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#eddie the banished
jqmunson · 3 days
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Leather Daddy
🖤 ⛓️🕷️
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mimixmunson · 22 days
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Eddie fucking you from behind and responding to all your whining like:
“Is that so?”
“That’s the spot huh?”
“Just take it, atta girl.”
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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 8 months
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Sweet Little Sister
Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader
Request: Could you do one where you're Steve's little sister and you go to Eddie to get a tattoo? But it's really a ruse because you have a crush on him and are trying to work up the courage to tell him. Then, you know...😉
18+ only
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“Harrington? What are you doing here?” Eddie asked, confusion written all over his face to find you at the door to his trailer. 
You pushed your hair back, gazing up at the metalhead that you’d been crushing on for two years. You’d noticed him at the beginning of your junior year, his first time repeating senior year. Fuck, he was so beautiful. Standing there in just a pair of sleep shorts, blank ink standing out harshly against his pale chest, that mess of dusky waves falling over his bare shoulders, was almost too much for you to handle. It took everything in you not to turn and run, but no, you had to play this cool. You’d come up with a plan and you were going to see this through. This was no time to chicken out if you ever wanted a shot with him. 
Your brother, Steve, knew him because they had some weird shared friendship with a freshman, Dustin Henderson. The two had become friends over the past year and having him around only intensified your fixation on the Hellfire Club’s dungeon master. You’d never been brave enough to say anything though, sticking to casual conversation about his DnD club, his band, school, etc. He’d even sold you some weed once and you had intended on making a move but you’d bailed at the last minute. 
“I actually came to ask you a favor,” you answered softly, willing your heart to slow down. 
“Oh yeah? What kind of favor is that, princess?” he mused with a smile, his elbow propped against the doorframe as he leaned into you. “Does Harrington’s sweet little sister need more weed?”
“No, not that,” you muttered quickly. “I uhh…well, I’ve heard that you did all your own tattoos?”
“Yeah, I did,” he replied slowly, leaning back and crossing his arms, eyes narrowing, lips pressed together, as he considered you, clearly wondering where this was going. 
“I actually want a tattoo and I was wondering if you’d do it.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide and then he started laughing, “Harrington’s infamous little sister wants me to tattoo her? Now, that shit is funny. And what, pray tell, does big brother think about this?”
“Steve doesn’t know,” you insisted, straightening your spine, trying to appear far more brave than you felt. “He doesn’t get a say. It’s my body and I’m eighteen. I can do what I want.”
Eddie’s lips pursed in amusement, “Kitty’s got claws. Surprising. Okay then. Come on in to my palace, princess and tell me what you’re thinking.”
“O…okay…” you stammered as he stepped back, sweeping his arm out. You stepped inside his trailer and he gestured to the couch, the two of you sitting next to each other. 
“Alright, darling, what are you thinking of getting? Do you have a picture or something?”
“Oh, yeah,” you mumbled, reaching in your back pocket and handing him a folded up piece of notebook paper. “I actually drew out my idea. It’s fairly simple actually.”
Eddie opened it up, turning his head as he looked at the drawing. It was two butterflies, just basic outlines, flying off into the sky. He glanced up at you, nodding. 
“I can totally do this. Can I ask why this?”
You felt the flush creep into your face, “You’ll probably think it’s stupid. It’s supposed to represent me and Steve, umm, getting away from our parents? You know, flying away and finally being free? I mean, it hasn’t happened yet but I am planning on getting a job once this school year is over and we’ve talked about renting a place together then. Getting the hell out of that house is all I want.”
Eddie chuckled softly, “That’s not stupid, sweetheart. I think that’s pretty cool actually. You two willing to give up all that money? Must be worse than Harrington even admits.”
You swallowed hard, “Yeah, well…”
Sensing your discomfort, he changed the subject, “Okay, where were you thinking?”
Okay, here came the part that had you the most nervous, the part where you set out the bait and hoped he took it. You inhaled deeply before pulling your shirt over your head. Eddie’s eyes bulged with shock as you took his hand, placing it over your heart. 
“I was thinking right here,” you whispered. “What do you think?”
“I…uh…I…” Eddie stammered nervously, tongue running over his bottom lip as he sat, frozen, his hand on your chest. “I…yeah, I mean…I can do it there. It’s uh…kind of where I did one of mine.”
“This one?” you inquired, tilting your head, one hand still covering his, the other rising to his chest, fingertip tracing over the demon head, your confidence bolstered by the way he shivered under your touch.
“Uh-huh.” He nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly as he swallowed. 
“I like it,” you told him. “Do you think mine would be better there or…” Releasing his hand, you hooked the loops of your jeans in your fingers, sliding them down your legs. Taking his hand once again, you placed it on your stomach, just above lacy pink panties you’d worn just for this. “Here?”
“Fuck…” Eddie muttered, closing his eyes. “I…uh…it’s up to you really. I…Jesus Christ…”
“Eddie?” you said softly, your other hand coming under his chin. “Are you okay?”
“No, not really,” he replied, shaking his head. “You’re standing here in your bra and underwear and I’m trying really hard to be respectful. I mean, you’re Harrington’s sister.” His eyes opened and he moaned. “But fuck, I mean, look at you.”
You bit your bottom lip, smiling, pleased at his reaction, “What if I don’t want you to be respectful? What if I want you to look?” You took both his hands, sliding them along your stomach and over your breasts, holding them there. “To touch?”
“Holy shit��uh…I…what…” Eddie looked like a deer in headlights, frozen, staring up at you. 
“Eddie, I want you,” you told him softly. “I’ve wanted you ever since the first day of my junior year. Do you remember? You passed me a spray paint can and said thanks sweetheart, flashing me a smile. Principal Higgins was hot on your heels because he’d found your artwork in his office.”
“Oh damn,” Eddie chuckled. “That was some of my finest work. A massive dick covering his wall. I even painted over his college degree. Well, shit, you saved my ass that day.” He rose from the couch, his nerves suddenly gone, large hands covering your hips, the metal of his rings cool against your flesh. “I guess I owe you, huh?”
“You really do,” you breathed, eyes closing as he tilted his head down, lips a breath away from yours. Finally, you were going to get everything you’d only fantasized about. 
“You sure about this, sweetheart?” he whispered softly, lips brushing over your cheek. “Once we do this, there’s no taking it back.”
“I don’t want to take it back.”
Your hand wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to yours, heat spreading through every fiber of your being, settling in your center. Dear god, help you, those full lips were even more delicious than you could have imagined. His tongue slid past your lips, licking every inch of your mouth and your knees buckled, your fingers grasping at his hair for purchase and you knew nobody could help you now. You were completely lost in everything that was him. The pads of his fingers pressing into your skin, velvety tongue exploring your throat, luscious lips devouring yours, fluffy strands of wavy hair between your fingers, hard chest and warm skin pressed against yours.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groaned, dropping to his knees in front of you. “I’ve imagined what you look like without your clothes, princess, but you are even more beautiful than I could have imagined.” 
His nose ran over your thigh and you inhaled sharply, head dropping back. He turned you, running his hand over your asscheek as he grunted. You shrieked when you felt his teeth biting into a chunk of your flesh. The sharp sting was followed by soft kisses and then his hands were guiding you to face him again. 
“Eddie…” you gasped, his breath hot against your already burning center as he nuzzled himself against your panties.
“Can I?” he asked, those warm eyes questioning as his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties. All you could do was nod. Slowly, so achingly slowly, he dragged your panties down your legs. You lifted one ankle and then the other so he could fully remove them. "Fucking hell..."
His nose ran along your folds and as it bumped over your clit, you whimpered, reaching out, grabbing his shoulders to hold yourself up. Eddie's hand gripped your calf, lifting your leg and bringing it over his shoulder, opening you to him. Those lips tortured you, biting and sucking the skin along your inner thigh and then the other, leaving marks you knew would show tomorrow. It gave you a thrill of pleasure thinking about Eddie's handiwork concealed under your clothes where only you knew about it.
"Please..." you pleaded, losing all sense of control, needing him like your lungs needed oxygen, like your veins needed blood rushing through them.
"Well, since you asked so nicely..."
Flattening his tongue, he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit and you shuddered, a guttural moan falling from your lips, nails digging into his flesh as your legs threatened to give out. Jesus, this man was talented. His tongue was making love to your clit, circling and flicking and rolling in ways you hadn't even known were possible.
"Eddie, that's so good. Oh my god," you panted, chest heaving, knowing it was going to take you no time to reach your peak but fuck, you never wanted it to end.
"Mmm, you taste so good, sweetheart. I could die a happy man buried between these thighs," he hummed against you.
Just when you thought nothing could feel better than this, his lips latched around your clit and two fingers pressed into you, sending you to an entirely new level of pleasure.
"Oh...fuck!" you cried, teetering, falling, plunging into an abyss you would never crawl out of. "I can't...oh my god...Eddie...I..."
"You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?"
Eddie's fingers curled within you, his mouth leaving your center and making it's way up your body. His thumb replaced his tongue, circling over your clit. Your eyes closed, helpless whimpers rising out of you. With his other hand, he gripped the back of your neck.
"Open your eyes for me, beautiful," he commanded. "I want to watch you cum for me." Your eyes fluttered open, a struggle against the coil winding tightly within you. "That's a good girl. Cum all over my fingers."
"Eddie..." you keened, back arching, his hand the only thing supporting your body as the most powerful orgasm you'd ever experienced in your life imploded through your body. It was like being burst apart from the inside, like shooting stars rocketing through the sky, like a tornado blowing everything apart. It was like nothing you'd ever felt.
"That's my girl," he praised with a grin, fingers slipping from inside you, leaving you feeling empty. "Fuck, you look beautiful when you cum. I could watch that over and over again."
You whimpered at his words, the very thought of doing this, having this with him for more than one night was almost too much to bear, too much to hope for. You arms came around his neck, your lips pressed to his once again, desperate for more, desperate for as much as you could get of him.
"Someone not satisfied yet?" he sang, pulling back with a grin, tongue running over his teeth. "We can't have that." His hands gripped your ass and hefted you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, lips moving over yours as he carried you into his bedroom.
He dropped you on the bed, quickly covering your body with his own. One of his hands slid behind your back, unhooking your bra and pulling the straps down over your arms.
"Fuck, you're so damn beautiful. You're like...perfect..." he commented, eyes raking over every inch of you, causing your body to flush with pleasure.
Then his lips were on your chest, covering every inch, teeth and tongue raking along your nipples, threatening to send you over the edge again. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him against you, needing more, needing to feel all of him.
"Fuck me," you pleaded.
Eddie's head popped up from your chest, eyes glinting devilishly. Kissing his way back up your body, he placed his hands on either side of your head, eyes burning into yours, dark waves brushing your skin.
"You want my cock, princess?" he inquired, teasing. "Want me to fill that pretty little pussy?" You nodded, panting beneath him at just the thought. "Did you fantasize about this? Huh, beautiful? Did you lay in your bed, in that big house, your fingers slipping into your pussy, imagining it was me?"
"Yes," you breathed, biting your lip. "Yes...all the fucking time. Please. I want you, Eddie. I need you."
"Need me? I like the sound of that." He rose from the bed, removing his shorts and boxers. You almost fucking salivated at the sight of him naked in front of you, something you'd imagined but you'd never gotten it right. He was so damn perfect. Grabbing a condom from the dresser, he ripped it open with his teeth, sliding it over his length.
Eddie crawled back over the top of you, lips dropping next to your ear, "Can I tell you a secret? I've jacked myself off to the thought of you under me a thousand time."
And then he was thrusting into you and it was perfection. It was angels singing on fluffy white clouds. It was rainbows glittering across a blue sky. It was sweet, cold ice cream on a hot summer day. It was a crackling fire and a cozy blanket after you came in from the cold. It was every fucking thing that was perfect and good in this world.
"Oh fuck yes..." you cried, wrapping your legs around him, heels digging into his ass in an attempt to pull him even deeper into you.
Eddie grunted, rutting inside of you, bottoming out as he rose up, one hand on the headboard. His eyes focused on the spot where he was entering your body, watching himself slip inside your warmth each time.
"Oh sweetheart...you feel so goddamn good..." he groaned, his hips rolling slowly, relishing every single thrust. "So fucking good, princess."
Your body jolted, tiny electric shocks dancing over your skin, your nerves endings on fire as flames of pleasure raced through you. Eddie's hands slid along your legs, gripping your calves and lifting them up, pushing them until they were back by your ears, causing his cock to reach a whole new depth, a depth you hadn't known existed.
"Fuck!" you screamed, eyes rolling back in your head.
"Yes. Oh shit, baby, I am so close. Are you close, princess?"
You nodded frantically, words lost to you, teeth digging into your lip so hard you could taste blood. Your body was a piano wire, pulled so tight you thought you would snap. Your legs tensed, ankles bent, fireworks exploding behind your eyes as your release burst from you, screaming Eddie's name, fingers clutching at him, grasping, nails scraping along flesh.
"Son of a bitch!" Eddie roared, head bent back, body stilling as he plunged into you once more, his own orgasm taking over. Your legs shook like jello as he trembled above you and then he fell, collapsing against you. "Jesus...shit...fuck..." he muttered, peppering your face with kisses, his forehead pressed against yours. "Your brother is going to be so pissed off when he finds out."
"I...I'm not gonna tell him..." you assured him, shaking your head, legs falling to the mattress, no strength left.
"Well, it will be kind of hard to keep from him forever," Eddie said with a smile. "I mean, how long can we keep hiding?"
"Keep hiding?" you asked, bewildered, list filled brain struggling to keep up with that he was saying. "Do you mean...you want to keep doing this?"
"Hell yeah," he laughed. "Don't you?"
"I mean...yeah...I do. But if we're just sneaking around to have sex, we can keep it a secret. You don't have to tell anyone."
"Oh sweetheart, I definitely want to keep having sex. There's so many damn things I want to do with you. But, I was thinking more than that. How would you feel about me taking you to a movie?"
"Like a date? You want to date me?"
"Yeah." He chuckled, the sound low and husky, sending shivers racing over your skin. "I mean, you said you liked me, right? I thought that meant like, you liked me, liked me."
"No, I do!" you insisted. "I just didn't think you would want..."
"Oh pretty girl, I want. I definitely want." Those lips began moving again, over your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. "You're not the only one who had a crush. I want all of you. I want everything with you."
You sighed softly as those lips began making their way south again, your body ready for him, pulsing, throbbing. Thank god you'd finally found the courage to make a move.
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toomanyacorns · 2 years
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Post Vecna. Eddie Graduated. Dustin's dads are thriving.
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(Follow me on IG @the.grimgrandma)
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kawaizawa · 1 year
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quick Eddie redraw
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mu86ons · 6 days
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washing eddie’s hair 🫧🧼💆🏻
warnings: tooth rotting fluff, soft eddie, nicknames (sweetheart and baby, reader calls eddie “eds”), a few “i love you’s”, nudity but still sfw
ೀ   ೨౿   ᠀𓏲   ϑ𐑞   ꣑୧    ೀ   ೨౿   ᠀𓏲  
“Sweetheart, I don’t want ‘Glacier Freeze’ it sounds like a car scent or something” Eddie sighs and shakes his head but you’re well invested in the shampoo bottles on the shelf.
“Come on Eds, it’s perfect. Good for curls, bigger bottle and smells amazing. Can’t use 3 in 1 forever” You put the bottle in the shopping cart and scan the rest looking for a conditioner.
“Baby”, Eddie wraps his arms around you. He rests his chin on your shoulder and mumbles into your ear. “I thought you loved me no matter what.” You laugh at his little antics, trying to dodge all the self care you’ve been. introducing him to. Last week was facials, this week hair routines and next week? The undeniable mani pedi time, of course eddie only lets you do this when he has a show coming up.
“I love you Eddie” You rub the ringed knuckles of the tall metalhead hovering you, back pressed into his lean physique. “This is part of my love for you. My pretty boy, my handsome rockstar, hm?” You gently tap his hands and walk foward to grab the conditioner. Of course he doesn’t let go of you, following right behind you as he pats your tummy.
He groans. He pouts. His usual behavior trying to pity you to just put it behind. He’s accepted defeat when you put the items onto the conveyor belt. Once you’ve made it back to Eddie’s trailer you set the items on the counter. Oil, shampoo, conditioner, brushes, combs, clips, scrunchies. All for Eddie. He never in his life imagined a girl would ever be doing something like this for him.
Eddie’s in his bedroom, stripped down to.. well nothing. You and Eddie have been dating for quite some time. You sleep over a lot, you help clean, you have seen each other in ways no one else has. So you find it humorous when you start undressing and Eddie starts gawking over your body.
“What is your problem.” You laugh and shake your head, tossing your shirt at Eddie. He laughs and smiles. “Can’t admire my pretty girl?” He fakes an offended look and walks up to you. Bare bodies and affection. “Well you were staring. Must’ve seen something you liked.” Eddie smiles and cups your face, softly stroking at the gentle skin of your cheeks. He runs a thumb over your soft lips, parting his own. “I see something I really like.”
Blushing. That’s what you do when eddie says things like this. You can barely hold the eye contact, and he knows it. so he pulls you into his arms and hugs you, soft yet very callous hands gently rubbing up and down your back, stopping at your hips. You love being affectionate with Eddie because deep down under the tough metalhead everyone thinks he is, he’s a softie for his girl.
Placing your hands on his soft shoulders, you look up into his honey smitten eyes. You whisper, “I love you.” He smiles and brings you in, pulling gently at your hips and plants a soft kiss on your lips. He nibbles and gives a small pull to your bottom lip. He smiles when he pulls away. “Love you more, sweetheart.”
You smile and look at the bottles of hair products lined up by the bathtub. “We’ll see if you feel that way after this.” He chuckles and finally, he starts his shower. Although now his showers have become your showers. Saves hot water and gives eddie extra time to be close to you. You and Eddie stand under the warm water covering your bodies. Once his hair is soaked enough you grab the shampoo bottle.
“Okay. First shampoo. I’ll do this part it’s more fun for me.” You start to lather his scalp with the shampoo. Oh.. Eddie’s never been more wrong in his life. ‘Glacier Freeze’ smells amazing. Feels great too, or at least that’s what the little happy murmurs from his lips are telling you. “Feeling okay?” You tilt your head a bit to see that Eddie has a small smile on his face. “I take it back.” He chuckles, “This is the best feeling ever.”
You raise a teasing brow. “The best feeling.. you positive?” He laughs a bit more, knowing what you’re getting at. “Okay second best. No wait..” He thinks to himself. “Fifth best feeling.” A bunch of laughs, followed by a bunch of scalp massaging and a bunch of complaints about ‘this taking way too long’ from Eddie and his hair is clean. Baby soft long brown curls.
Once you’re out of the shower and in much more comfortable clothing you sit on the sofa, Eddie sat on the floor between your legs letting them hang over his shoulders as you watch tv. It’s mainly eddie shutting his eyes to the comforting feeling of his girlfriend’s fingers in his hair, gently caressing in that conditioner that’s gonna make his hair smell so good. Feel so soft. He’s definitely gonna make you do this all the time now.
“Sweetheart, you were right.” He says a bit lazily, most likely dozing off from the comfort of your fingers in his hair. “What’s that?” He speaks up. “I’m thanking you,” He squeezes your calf that hangs over his shoulder gently. “For caring for me. My hair.. it’s never felt this nice”
You smile. “Aw. So sweet. You’re being so cute right now.” He groans and laughs a bit. “Okay knock it off. I’m not a softie I just love you. I love this.”
ೀ   ೨౿   ᠀𓏲   ϑ𐑞   ꣑୧    ೀ   ೨౿   ᠀𓏲  
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shurislostwifey · 2 years
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Steve questioning his sexuality right this second
AND THIS WAS IMPROVISED AHSNJSJ IM SCREAMING
adding in the scene 🥹 gay panic
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shybunnie20 · 3 months
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Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader
strangers to friends to lovers
★Teasers ★Locations ★My Masterlist
Summary: Eddie embarks on a new chapter after finally graduating. He expects to face a variety of hurdles that come with a change of scenery, but what he doesn't anticipate is falling head over heels for you.
Author's Note: Holy shit, I can't believe this is finally finished after 11 months. It’s the first time I've written smut in well over a year and I'm pleased with how it turned out (I couldn't have done it without the support of my beloved @eddiethefreakkmunson)
Location photos are linked above and in the fic at their first mentions. AU with no Upside Down, no use of Y/N, focuses on Eddie's POV, fluff and mild angst with a happy ending *wink wink*
Word count: 17.3k
Warnings: MDNI 18+! alcohol consumption/drunken behavior, subtly pervy moments, masturbation, fondling, dry humping, protected p in v, oral (f receiving), a little bit of praise & possessiveness, includes swearing.
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Eddie was determined to leave Hawkins for good as soon as he tossed his graduation cap to the sky. He didn’t expect how expensive a venture like that would be, so he devised a plan. For a couple of months, he would stick around to save up a financial cushion.
To pocket every penny possible, Eddie took up odd jobs around town like mowing lawns and painting fences. With every task completed, he army crawled his way toward living life on his terms. He didn’t expect it to take him well over a year to save up enough cash.
On this sweltering afternoon, the atmosphere is charged with the promise of new beginnings. The summer sun peeks out from behind the dense clouds and casts irregular shadows on the dirt road of Forest Hills.
His van is packed to the brim with boxes of his belongings. After mentally checking everything twice over, uncertainty twists Eddie’s stomach into knots. What if I have car trouble? What if I get lost? What if it’s not everything I hoped it would be?
Wayne descends the concrete steps and joins Eddie. He lets out a belly-deep sigh that speaks volumes. You’ll figure it out. You’re gonna find your way. Your best days are ahead of you.
There’s a hint of sadness in seeing his boy take this significant step toward independence. But beneath that sorrow, profound pride prevails within Wayne. Eddie’s dreams reach far beyond the boundaries of Hawkins. Sticking around here won’t do him any good.
Eddie looks at the man who’s been his rock; the one who used to rise before dawn to plate crispy bacon and fluffy pancakes, meeting Eddie’s needs before his own. The memories are vivid as he reflects on the milestones his uncle guided him through. Without a doubt, Eddie wouldn’t be half the man he is today if it weren’t for Wayne.
His beloved van sits atop the very spot where he once wiped out while learning to ride a bike without training wheels. “It’s time to be a big boy,” Wayne said, urging Eddie to muster some faith in himself.
Reluctantly, Eddie mounted his small bicycle and clutched the rubber handles. With a push to set him off, he experienced the fleeting thrill of accomplishment as he pedaled forward. He only made it a few feet before his balance wavered.
The bike wobbled, sending Eddie tumbling to the gravel. His knees and palms bore the brunt of the fall, and the sharp pebbles embedded themselves into his scraped skin.
Wayne isn’t exactly a ‘rub some dirt on it’ kind of guy, but he isn’t the coddling type either. He cleaned Eddie’s wounds, slapped on some bandages, and told him to give it another shot. Faced with his nephew’s tearful protests, Wayne emphasized that just because failure stings, it shouldn't deter him from trying again.
“I guess this is it then.” Eddie wipes beads of sweat from his brow using the back of his hand.
“Yep, looks that way. It sure will be quiet without y’here. I got so used to living with all that racket of yours.”
“It’s called good music. You should take it for a spin sometime, it’s way better than that honky-tonk shit you made me listen to growing up.”
“I like my honky-tonk shit just fine, thank you,” They share a laugh.
Wayne will undoubtedly miss their banter, but it’s their Sundays together that weighs the most on his heart. Occasionally, the summer graces them with a few perfect days—pleasantly sunny with a stirring breeze. That weather maintained an unspoken tradition.
When little Eddie moved in, he was struggling to find his footing and hadn’t spoken much. Wayne took him to a serene lakeside spot where the water gently lapped against the shore.
He cast his line into the water in pursuit of a crappie dinner, and six-year-old Eddie gleefully played with the live bait. Over the years, their dynamic remained largely unchanged. Wayne watched his bobber from the swaying dock while Eddie kicked back in a folding lawn chair. It was simple father-son time that didn’t cost more than an afternoon or two. As of now, those days are over.
“You sure you’re gonna be alright without me, old man?”
Wayne shrugs and shoves his hands into his front pockets. “I suppose I’ll manage one way or another.” 
“Take care of yourself,” Eddie says firmly.
“Will do. Oof-” Wayne chuckles when he’s abruptly hugged. He smooths over the back of Eddie’s head with his calloused palm.
The men hold onto one another, their unspoken sentiments conveyed in the silent embrace. They exchange a pat on the back before parting.
Wayne’s eyes follow his nephew as he closes the rear doors and makes his way toward the front of the van. “Eddie, one last thing. Remember to take your chances while ya got 'em and strike while the iron’s hot. Don’t let nothin’ pass ya by.”
Offering a firm salute, Eddie hops up and settles into the driver’s seat.
With Hawkins in the rearview mirror, Eddie sets off. Chicago may not be the sprawling metropolises of New York or Los Angeles, but it’s a world apart from his hometown.
It’s far enough away to provide a much-needed change of scenery, yet close enough that he can move back home if things go to shit.
The drive goes smoothly overall with a couple of instances of getting turned around. By the time Eddie is finished with the long hours on the road, he’s bone-weary.
His new place may not be the epitome of luxury, but it’s a roof over his head and that’s all that matters. After lugging his things to the fourth floor, Eddie can finally consider himself moved in. His apartment lacks furniture and decor, but it’s a space he can call his own.
The throbbing of an unbearable intensity plagues his thighs, a fiery reminder of the multiple flights of stairs conquered. He collapses onto his twin mattress and emits a low groan. The sound bounces off the bare walls and echoes through the studio apartment.
Eddie starts noticing the difference in sounds around him. Gone are the barking dogs and tires rolling over gravel. His fridge hums like the one in the trailer, which is nice, but it’s not remotely loud enough to drown out the argument happening in the unit above his.
When the noise finally subsides, he hopes to catch up on some much-needed sleep. But just a few minutes later, the ruckus rekindles. In a bid for tranquility, Eddie clutches his pillow to his ears to block out the animalistic makeup sex seeping through his ceiling.  He’s praying that the man is a two-pump chump because this is a lot for a first night. Hell, it’s too much for any night.
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In a matter of days, Eddie has already encountered a series of issues. Whenever he tries to use hot water, his shower head screeches like a banshee. And the upstairs neighbors? They wear bricks for shoes and have a hoedown at 2 a.m. on a nightly basis; that is, if they’re not at each other’s throats.
Job hunting has been fruitless. The gas stations, car washes, and tobacco shops turned him down for the same reason: no documented experience. This means that he’s going to be stuck with the makeshift bed frame he came with for a while, which is just wooden planks zip-tied together. He’s not sure how long it’ll be able to withstand his tossing and turning.
There’s good news, though. Eddie refused to succumb to defeat. Today, he strolled past a tattoo parlor and impulsively checked it out. When he approached the counter, Eddie was met by an imposing man with a rather unwelcoming demeanor. In spite of feeling a bit intimidated, he greeted the man warmly.
As expected, the shop owner Cliff, did not reciprocate. When Eddie inquired about job openings, Cliff promptly replied with a curt “no.” Eddie’s tone grew desperate and he nearly pleaded. Cliff became irritated and offered a non-existent custodial position just to get Eddie to shut up and leave.
Currently sprawled on the rickety mattress, Eddie holds Mr. Pickles in the air and looks up at him. His trusty plushie is a bit worse for wear, having had his seams sutured with crimson battle vest thread.
“We’re doing it, buddy. We’re finally doing it.”
Shortly after moving in with his uncle, he had trouble falling asleep in the unfamiliar trailer. Wayne, hoping to provide comfort, gifted Eddie the stuffed bunny. It swiftly became a treasured part of his life, symbolizing safety and support—two things he hadn’t received much of up to that point.
The floppy-eared companion got its name from Wayne’s favorite snack. Whenever his uncle would pop the lid on a fresh jar of pickles, young Eddie would erupt into a fit of laughter. He insisted that Wayne was going to transform into a pickle due to how fast he blows through a jar.
In his twenties now, Eddie still cuddles with Mr. Pickles every night. If his pal could talk, he’d tell him how proud he is. Eddie rolls onto his side and nuzzles the bunny’s worn fur. That smile lingers on his face while he drifts off to sleep, now with a sense of hope for the days ahead.
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The time has come. Eddie has worn through his entire wardrobe and needs to make a trip to the laundromat. Having a washer in the trailer was something he didn’t fully appreciate until now.
Taking a quick look around his apartment, Eddie spots a cardboard box that’ll suffice in lieu of a laundry basket. He fills the box with the scattered clothes from the floor, slips on his sneakers, and makes his way out onto the street.
Nestled in the heart of his neighborhood, Eddie arrives at his destination. The air carries an overwhelming fresh scent of detergent. It’s not bustling by any means; there are only a handful of people here.
Compared to those who are well-versed in their routine, Eddie feels out of place. He chooses an available machine and plops his box of dirty clothes on the counter behind him. He inspects the front-loading washer, not versed in its functions and operation. Eddie goes to open the machine’s door but it refuses to yield.
His patience wanes with each futile tug. Just as frustration peaks, a sudden realization dawns on him, prompting a blush to sweep across his cheeks. There’s a lock hidden on the flip side of the handle.
With the press of his thumb, the lock disengages and the door screeches open. Hot under the collar, Eddie hastily scoops up his clothes and stuffs them into the damp drum. He slams the door shut with a mechanical click, the sound signaling the lock relatching. 
This place lacks helpful signage, to say the least. The only one here displays the cost of running a cycle, but there’s nothing to guide newcomers through the process.
Eddie pulls out his wallet to retrieve a few quarters. After inserting them, he figures out the detergent tray without much trouble. But as Eddie presses the START button repeatedly, increasing his force with each press, the machine stubbornly refuses to respond.
“You have to choose a setting.”
Eddie jumps at the sound of your voice, his brows arched and mouth hanging open. “Huh?”
You walk over from the adjacent wall of driers a few feet away. “It won’t start unless you select a wash setting first.”
He looks at you like a deer-in-the-headlights, so you step in and set the machine to delicate for him. The washer springs to life and water begins to fill the drum.
“Ah, that makes sense,” Eddie says while rubbing the back of his neck. “These are so different from the one I had back home.”
“Where’s home?” You ask, resuming your task of folding your clean laundry on the nearby counter.
Eddie is visibly taken aback by your continued engagement. “A town in Indiana that you’ve definitely never heard of,” He starts to fidget with the detergent jug’s cap, though it’s already sealed.
Suddenly, Eddie feels self-conscious about his appearance. Talking to a cute girl wasn’t on the agenda today, he didn’t dress for this. He regrets choosing function over fashion; his denim shorts are an old pair of Wayne’s jeans that he cropped to wear while mowing lawns. The raw hems are messily frayed and the light blue is darkened with grass stains.
“Indiana, huh? You’re a ways from home then. What brings you to The Windy City?”
Eddie’s attention lands on your pile of clothes, subtly assessing your wardrobe choices. “Uh- just needed a change of pace, I guess.”
“Chasing the dream, right? Figured Chicago had more to offer?” You peek at him, catching his stare fixed on a pair of underwear at the top of the pile—a standard white cotton panty, nothing worth ogling.
“Yeah,” Eddie agrees, his posture stiffening when you make eye contact. He swallows hard, averts his gaze, and shifts his weight between the balls of his feet. “Something like that.”
“Did you bring your band with you?” You take the undergarment in question and fold it, seemingly unfazed.
As you move the folded pile into your laundry basket, his clothes start thumping inside the machine, causing suds to splash against the glass window. 
Eddie’s brows knit together. “How’d you know I have a band?”
“You’ve got the look,” You remark as your eyes travel over him.
He leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. “Is that so? Do enlighten me, what’s the dead giveaway?”
“Your hair,” You suggest charmingly.
Eddie swishes his brunette curls like a lady in a shampoo commercial. “Too predictable?” 
“I’d say it’s on brand. Let me guess, Slayer? Maybe a little Dio or Megadeth?”
Eddie narrows his eyes at you before looking down at his shoes. “Jesus Christ, you’re reading me like a goddamn book.”
You cock your head to the side, playfulness tugging at your lips. “And if I were to look for this book in a store, what name might I find it under?”
“Eddie,” He lets his arms fall to his sides. When you tell him your name, it bounces around in his head. How pretty, he thinks.
After lifting your full laundry basket, you step away from the counter. “Good luck with the dryers. Oh, and just a heads up, those doors lock too. Don’t go yankin’ the handle off unless you’re looking to take home a souvenir,” You giggle to yourself as you walk out of the laundromat.
Eddie’s mouth hangs open while he watches you leave. Once you’re gone, his attention drifts to the nearby bulletin board. Among the various flyers, one advertises an open mic night. He decides that he’ll check it out sometime this week.
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At Double Barrel Bar, Eddie is swallowed by a sea of mainstream nonconformity. The bar-goers are dressed similarly to him, and while the crowd is mostly younger people, they’re still a touch older than him. 
A symphony of clinking glasses and animated chatter collides with the thunderous live metal music. The dense haze of tobacco smoke and the distant clatter of pool balls only enrich the ambiance. The walls are adorned with framed music memorabilia and band posters, a mix of global icons and local talents.
Eddie is enveloped with nostalgia. This place reminds him of the gigs he used to play with Corroded Coffin, although they never played for an audience this size. Staring at the stage, he questions whether he could engage such a crowd and persuade them that he’s worth listening to.
Between two other men at the bar, Eddie takes a seat.
Lee, the bartender, greets him. “What can I get ya?”
Eddie shrugs and hooks his sneakers beneath the rung of the stool. “I'll take a cold one, whatever's cheapest.”
“You got it. Bottle or tap?” Lee wipes his hands on the white rag draped over his shoulder.
“Bottle is fine.”
Lee retrieves a bottle of beer and deftly pops the cap before sliding it over to Eddie.
His fingers curl around the icy glass, the condensation cool to the touch. Eddie’s plump lips wrap around the bottle’s rim and he takes his first sip. The crisp liquid trickles down his throat, offering a short-lived remedy for the stuffiness of the room. 
As Lee tends to another patron, Eddie fidgets in his seat, causing the flier in his back pocket to crinkle. “So, you host an open mic?”
“Yeah, Thursday through Sunday. Are you any good?” Lee asks.
Eddie flips his guitar pick necklace between his fingers. “I like to think so. I guess you’d have to ask the ants in my kitchen, they’re the closest thing I've had to an audience lately.”
Lee snorts. “I've got a good feeling about you, I’m gonna reserve a spot.”
“Oh, uh- you don't have to do that.”
Lee waves his hand in dismissal and gathers the abandoned glassware from the now-empty seat beside Eddie. “No pressure, just swing by on Thursday if you’re interested.”
The opportunity intrigues Eddie, but performing alone is uncharted territory. Contemplating the offer, Eddie grapples with a cloud of self-doubt looming over his decision.
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It’s been two months, and his routine is now established. Each day brings progress and a sense of reward, even though there have been occasional hiccups along the way.
Surviving the sweltering summer with a broken AC was sheer hell. He found himself spending ample time nude in his apartment or standing in front of the open freezer compartment of the refrigerator; sometimes simultaneously. Fortunately, September has arrived, and the temperature has begun to wind down.
Managing expenses requires a frugal approach, given the modest pay from his custodial job. Eddie resorts to taking power showers and using candles to keep his utility bill low.
Sometimes he forgoes meals to keep an extra couple of bucks on hand. But when he does eat, he opts for saltine crackers slathered in butter, bologna sandwiches, canned soups, and plain noodles. Occasionally he treats himself to store-bought pasta sauce, though it’s still the saddest spaghetti known to man.
Eddie faces skepticism from the seasoned artists at the tattoo shop, all military veterans who view him as an arrogant kid. Their perception fuels his determination to prove himself. To earn their respect, he’s dedicated to cleaning more thoroughly than he ever has in his life.
He’s become keenly observant, absorbing every detail of the professional tattooing process, despite never being included in those conversations. Within the circle of artists—Ace, Lunchbox, and Dozer—Eddie gravitates toward Ace, who becomes a mentor. Seeing Eddie’s genuine enthusiasm, Ace asks about his drawing abilities. 
Although Eddie’s sketchbook is brimming with fantastical creatures, Ace can recognize a young man’s raw ambition and desire for direction and purpose. He takes Eddie under his wing, allowing him to learn the medium while on the clock.
After taking Lee up on his offer, Eddie found himself on stage every Thursday night. His performances were rusty, as he hadn’t played in front of anyone since before he was working his ass off to get here.
As he strummed through the jitters, Eddie rediscovered the sanctuary that music had always offered. It felt like a part of him had resurrected, reviving the passion he sorely missed.
Playing Thursday nights may not rake in tips like the weekends would, but he’ll take what he can get. Eddie’s been saving up for some pre-owned furniture, and he’s happy to snag any extra cash he can for it.
Life is good right now. The worry about moving back home has lessened, and he’s genuinely amazed at how smoothly things are going. Just when Eddie thought things couldn’t get any better, a Saturday night slot opened up at the bar.
It would be twice as busy, packed from wall to wall with people who could bare witness to him fucking up. Doubt crept its way in, but when Lee mentioned that Eddie could pocket thirty-five bucks or more by the night’s end, it was a no-brainer.
Tonight marks his debut Saturday gig. Stepping through the red brick archway and out onto the stage, the creak of the rustic boards beneath his feet sends a ripple up his legs. Eddie hasn’t even made it to the mic and he’s already forgotten what foot he’s supposed to be stepping with next.
Beneath his t-shirt, his back grows slick. A lump lodges itself in Eddie’s throat, causing his voice to crack when he introduces himself to the room. Amidst the overlapping conversations and the flushing from the nearby restroom, the amassed noise seems muffled. The strong winds in his head distort the sounds, whirling like a twister.
Eddie hooks his guitar up to the amp and forces himself to take a deep breath. As he tunes his instrument, the upheaval begins to settle. Gradually, Eddie finds unity with his guitar and concentrates on perfecting the tone.
Throughout the performance, there’s a persistent undertow of nerves refusing to fully subside. In spite of his efforts to lose himself in the music, his fingers occasionally falter as they dance on the strings.
At the end of his set, Lee can be heard whooping and hollering over the sparse clapping. With a sense of relief, Eddie packs up and makes a beeline for the bar, eager to ease the adrenaline coursing through his veins. Normally, the rush is akin to a high, but this time around it’s so intense that he’s dying to dial it back a notch.
He splurges and orders something a bit fancier than his usual bland beer. Why not celebrate a little? Eddie claims a recently vacated table in the bustling crowd, seating himself on the leather stool adorned with studs. His eyes roam the room while he takes a swig of his drink, savoring the superior crisp taste.
His attention zeroes in on a figure just feet away, a quick recognition igniting in his mind. Eddie recognizes you instantly, due to the scarcity of memorable encounters he’s had.
Eddie observes from afar, observing your mannerisms as you execute your waitressing duties. You must only work weekends, which would explain why your paths haven’t crossed again until now. When your eyes meet his, a shock shoots through his body.
He sits in rapt anticipation as you make your way over. Time seems to stretch unbearably from your previous spot until you finally stand opposite of him, separated only by the circular wooden table.
A courteous smile graces your face—a skill that waitresses must master if they want to pay rent. “Ready for another?”
Eddie stares back at you. His eyes drift down to the almost full beer bottle in his hand. The cogs in his skull are scraping, unable to put the words you’ve said to him in a comprehensive order. He nods without making a peep.
You pivot to leave, but then turn back to him and lift a brow at his unaltered dumbstruck expression. “Are you sure? ‘Cause you don’t look it.”
He remains silent and shakes his head sheepishly, feeling foolish for agreeing to another beer and then changing his mind just because you asked again. Is there more dignity in being indecisive than a bumbling mess?
“You were just singing up there for nearly an hour,” you call him out, folding your arms and tucking your serving tray against your side. “I know you can talk.”
Eddie clears his throat, but he ends up making an odd sound. “Uh, my throat’s a bit sore, that’s all.”
“Did you forget to do your vocal warm-ups or what?”
“It probably sounded like I did,” Eddie laughs, the self-deprecation evident.
“Not at all, I thought you were great.”
“You did?” Eddie’s lips curl at your compliment. Heat blooms on his cheeks, amplifying the full-body perspiration. He takes a casual sip from his beer, a guise to moisten his dry mouth and escape your intimidating gaze.
“Totally, you really come alive when you’re up there,” you rest your forearms on the table’s edge. “Is it just Eddie, or do you go by a stage name?”
No way. There’s no fucking way that you remember him, his face is so forgettable it’s not even funny. Lee had to have said something about who was filling the Saturday night spot. Eddie is inwardly thrilled to hear his name roll off of your tongue, but he tries to maintain his composure. “I suppose not, I guess I never thought about it.”
“You could pull it off, it suits the whole ‘one-man show’ thing you’ve got going on,” You say while giving him a once-over. The intrigue on your face is unwavering as you walk away.
He’s drunk, he has to be. Or maybe his drink was spiked somehow. The room is spinning and he feels nauseous as all hell, despite only having taken a few swigs from his beer.
A short while later, Eddie’s bottle is half-empty as he sits, continuously replaying the moment in his mind. More specifically, he can’t stop thinking about the sparkle in your eyes; he’s never seen anything like it.
He snaps back from his daydream at the sight of your return, this time with an unopened beer in hand. Eddie looks nothing short of puzzled as you slide it across the table toward him. “Uh, no thanks, I’m-”
“Relax, it’s not for you. I’ll be clocking out in six minutes. I wanna hear more about that small town of yours. I mean, as long as that’s okay with you. I understand if you have other plans tonight.”
“No!” Eddie exclaims. “I mean, yes it’s more than okay, and no, I don’t have anywhere to be.”
You glance downward while scuffing your shoe against the floor. “Okay, cool. Keep it cold for me then?” 
“Yeah, for sure. You can count on me.”
Shit shit shit. How is he going to keep this beer cold? Of course, ways to heat it flood his mind. If you come back to a lukewarm beer, that’ll be the end of him. He’s going to fuck this up and any chance of getting to know you will be squashed.
When you join him again, your drink is still cold and the bottle has left a ring of moisture on the paper coaster. Eddie’s unsure of how he managed to not lose it; if he’s capable of anything, it’s misplacing something when his only responsibility is to keep it in his possession. 
As you slide onto the stool beside him, you’re quick to inquire. You ask him typical ice-breaker questions at first, and Eddie responds with a plethora of details. At times, he goes off on tangents. You don’t appear bothered by it.
Eddie talks about his ability to learn how to play songs by ear, and he delves into the intricacies of his favorite Dungeons & Dragons campaigns that he’s created over the years. He earnestly tries to convey its depth to you and throughout his ramblings, he doesn’t miss the concentrated look on your face as you try to keep up.
Lee is nearing the end of his cleaning routine and the other waitresses have left for the night. Neither of you is aware that the bar is devoid of a crowd, scorching lights, and blaring music.
Eddie has been too busy asking you about your origins and passions, his wide eyes and attentive demeanor affirming his genuine interest. Just as he mentions working at the shop and you’ve asked him how many tattoos he has, you’re interrupted.
Lee stands beside the table, armed with a damp rag and a spray bottle. “Awfully hard to wipe the seats when your asses are still on them. Scoot your booch,” Lee instructs by motioning toward the entrance.
Eddie doesn’t hesitate to slip off his stool. You, on the other hand, take your sweet time.
“Have a good night,” You say and give Lee’s shoulder a friendly pat.
Uncertain of his next move, Eddie hesitates while you make your way to an unmarked door. It’s half past two in the morning, and he feels a tug of concern about you leaving by yourself.
There’s a very good chance that you’d consider him clingy or intrusive if he waits here. Eddie opts to stand outside. He props himself against the building and idly nudges a loose chunk of concrete with his shoe to keep himself occupied. Soon after, you emerge into the night.
The slam of the heavy door prompts him to straighten up. “Hey.”
“Oh, I thought you left,” you admit and adjust your purse strap on your shoulder. “Thanks for telling me about Hawkins the Hell Hole.”
“The pleasure was all mine. Do you, uh…” Eddie inches forward, his Reeboks scraping loudly on the pavement. “Would you like me to walk you home? It’s pretty late.”
“I don’t live far, it’s just a few blocks.’
“Okay, I guess I’ll see you around then?”
Your eyes twinkle brighter than he’d previously seen. “I’d say the odds are in your favor.”
“Goodnight. Get home safe,” He says with a half-hearted bow.
“Likewise,” You reply, biting back a giggle.
Eddie watches you fade into the darkness along the unlit patches of sidewalk. Once you’ve turned the corner, Eddie smiles from the surreal sensation of floating on clouds.
In this moment, the feeling of joy is so potent that it’s borderline palpable. He’s the embodiment of elation, a soul soaring high. It’s a feeling he wishes he could bottle up and carry with him forever.
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The next Saturday plays out much like the previous one, save for one detail: it’s considerably tougher to concentrate on stage knowing who’s in the audience. Post-performance, the routine echoes that of the prior week. The two of you gravitate toward the same table as before, establishing it as the one you’ll always sit at.
At first, a hesitation lingers before diving into more personal topics. However, as the night progresses and more beers are consumed, you seamlessly fall into them. Eddie weaves elements of drama and romanticism into his past, making it utterly engrossing for you to listen to.
When you propose getting together outside of the confines of the bar for the first time, Eddie eagerly accepts your invitation to show him around since he has yet to do any sightseeing.
Eddie is swept up in an exuberant wave of boyish excitement, and it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt. He never experienced it during his teenage years like the average person. The sheer thrill of having an instant connection with a girl is an entirely new feeling for him.
Week after week, your laundry days are synchronized and you’ve started the habit of making silly faces or giving each other the finger just because. During the late nights spent together at Dove’s Diner, Eddie finds enjoyment in seeing you eat. It’s a peculiar fascination, but it makes him happy. Seeing you completely at ease while enjoying greasy food is endearing to him.
When he arrived in Chicago, Eddie couldn’t shake the feeling of not wanting to move back to Hawkins. Even so, he wasn’t experiencing the same comfort here as he did in that cramped trailer.
There was a longing for familiarity that he had in his old surroundings. Eddie didn’t want to have to go back home in order to feel that sense of belonging again. He had his doubts about ever truly adjusting to life here until you came along. In your company, the foreignness of the city fades away, replaced by that feeling he’s been missing.
Several times, he’s been working in his sketchbook, adding to the pin-up style figures and faces that bear a striking resemblance to you. While engrossed in drawing, he hadn’t picked up on the similarities. But when he absentmindedly drew a simple heart, that's when it occurred to him.
Eddie like-likes you.
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As your shift comes to an end, you head to the back room to gather your belongings. Eddie stands idly at your claimed table, picking at his hangnails while he waits.
“When’re you gonna ask her out?” Lee asks while tidying up nearby.
Eddie laughs heartily at the idea. “How about never.” 
“You should. I can tell she’s into you.”
“Yeah, right. I don’t stand a chance.”
Lee puts down his spray bottle and looks at Eddie. “Listen, I’ve known her for a while now. Trust me on this,” he dumps a used ashtray out into a trash bag.
Eddie emits a noise of disbelief, his mind flickering back to the painful lesson he learned in his youth—he’s no one's type. Lost in reflection, he doesn’t realize you’ve returned with your sweatshirt draped over your bent arm.
Despite the tiring evening, you're upbeat in his presence. “Okay, I’m ready! I was thinking we could get some takeout and watch TV at my place.”
“Sure, I could eat,” Eddie says with a grin. Lee is shaking his head, looking particularly smug.
Your apartment is the polar opposite of Eddie’s, the difference is like day and night. It has a homey atmosphere and there’s a notable absence of wear and tear. He does have band posters, framed personal photos, and furniture, but they fail to create the same inviting ambiance that your apartment effortlessly exudes.
Seated beside Eddie on your couch, you tease him. “You’re terrible at this.”
“I’m trying!” He attempts to mimic your technique, but the piece of chicken repeatedly falls from his chopsticks.
“I can see that,” you stifle a laugh. “And you’re total shit at it.”
Out of frustration, Eddie impales his sweet and sour chicken with both sticks.
Glancing your way, he catches you smiling ear to ear, watching him. Eddie smiles back as he chews. “What? This way works just as well.”
You laugh and refocus your on the TV while resuming your meal. Eddie swears that you’re sitting closer to him than when you first sat down. Your thigh is almost touching his and your shoulder is just as close.
The paranoia subsides as he gets lost in thinking about how he can feel the heat radiating off of your bare thigh. But Eddie’s pulled back to reality when your chopsticks cut across his vision and dig into his takeout box.
He doesn’t mind, not really; sharing is caring. Having said that, when you lean over to look into the box, your shoulder bumps against his. A particularly appreciative sound escapes your lips, one that’s borderline pornographic.
“That’s really good, I’ll have to get some next time,” you hum and place your takeout box on the coffee table. “Or I could just keep stealing yours, it tastes better that way.”
Eddie is frozen, eyes unblinking. As you return to your spot on the sofa, you’re unquestionably closer this time. Your beautiful skin is on display in those shorts of yours and your bare thigh is brushing against his own. He could choke on air right now if he were still breathing.
You look over at him, your brow furrowed. “You good?”
“Yeah, yep. All good,” Eddie avoids making eye contact and stares blankly ahead. “Peachy keen.”
“Okay, weirdo,” you brush off his abrupt awkwardness and scoot toward the edge of the cushion. After gathering your trash, you look at him. “All finished?”
“Mhm,” He replies weakly and extends his box toward you.
With your arms full, you head into the kitchen, leaving him by his lonesome in the living room.
Eddie releases a heavy sigh and drags his hands down his face. Your absence allows him to reenter his body, but it only makes him keenly aware of his not-so-subtle half hard-on that’s outlined through the thin fabric of his shorts.
His eyes widen in alarm and panic takes over. “Shit!” Frantically brainstorming ways to conceal it, Eddie spots a fuzzy blanket at the far end of the couch and he retrieves it, draping it over his lap. While he tries to make himself look as casual as possible, he catches a glimpse of your approaching shadow just before the kitchen light is switched off.
In the few seconds he has left, Eddie tries out various hand placements, but none feel quite right. Every position feels forced and conspicuous.
As you stride back to the couch, your sweet expression eases some of the tension in his bones. “I got a bit chilly,” Eddie blurts out, hoping to preempt any impending questioning. “Is it okay if I use this?”
“No, I’m totally gonna tell you that you can’t use a blanket for its sole purpose.”
Eddie laughs nervously, “Alright, alright.”
This is arguably worse, being wrapped in your scent. It’s awfully hard not to get any harder when your natural smell is flooding his head. It’s intoxicating, and he finds himself inhaling deeply to capture as much of it as he can.
“What’d I miss?” You ask while plopping back down beside him.
The continuous movement causes Eddie to clench his back molars together because an image surges before he can even think to suppress it. He’d bet all the money he has that you’d look stunning on top of him. There’s fantasy looming alongside the image; Eddie wonders what you look like beneath your clothes.
“Nothing, you didn’t miss anything,” He mutters. When you start to squirm against the back of the couch, Eddie shoots you a questioning look. “You got ants in your pants?”
You huff, “No, there’s an itchy spot on my back. Could you scratch it for me, please? It’s driving me nuts.”
“Oh, um, sure,” Eddie fumbles for words as you angle yourself and present your back to him. “Where is it?”
“Right between my shoulder blades.”
Eddie’s eyes zero in on the outline of your bra strap that’s visible through your shirt across your back. Given his luck, that would be the target. Just to be cautious, he starts by scratching at the higher middle part of your back.
“A little lower.”
Eddie swallows hard as his fingers tentatively inch their way down. His belly begins to swirl the closer he gets to the clasp, but thankfully, you stop him just before he reaches it.
“Right there! Yeah, harder.”
If this goes on too much longer, Eddie could very well pass out. But, per your request, he applies more pressure. Beneath the blanket, the discomfort has only intensified—his arousal is now raging with a persistent ache.
“Oh my god, finally,” You say appreciatively and settle back into a more relaxed position.
The overwhelming urge to touch himself skyrockets as his body begs for friction. Eddie repositions himself to adjust the blanket, hoping to keep his erection concealed. From the corner of his eye, his gaze drifts along your figure, pausing at the rise and fall of your diaphragm as you watch TV.
A jagged breath falls from his lips, but he’s determined to clear his mind. Realizing that he can’t leave here tonight with your blanket as a shield, he has to find a way to distract himself by the end of this program.
Miraculously, he survived. Now lying in his bed, Eddie is surrounded by the darkness, save for the glow of the moon and the faint residual light from the streetlamps filtering through the broken blinds. Eddie stares up at the ceiling while his mostly naked body responds to the vivid recollections swarming his train of thought.
On any ordinary day, Eddie would resort to the routine of using his hand and lotion to relieve himself. Be that as it may, the stirring in his core demands a different sensation.
With the thought of you weighing heavily on his mind, there’s an alternative means by which he’s going to alleviate the frustration and desire that’s grown too loud to ignore. Eddie, already shirtless, yanks his boxers off in a swift motion and kicks them off carelessly. Moving onto his knees, he leans over the edge of his bed and retrieves a pillow from the floor.
He sits back on his heels in the middle of his bed and contorts the stuffing with intent. For a moment, he’s not sure how he wants to use it. His body’s impatience grows, causing his erection to bob expectantly.
Eddie licks his lips in anticipation and sets the bent pillow down with the bend facing him. With one hand, he firmly holds the makeshift toy in place. With his other, he strokes himself languidly, blotting the fabric of the pillowcase with precum as he taps his cock against it repeatedly.
Experimentally, Eddie rolls his hips downward, thrusting the sensitive underside of his length against the smooth material. His eyes fall closed, and he can’t seem to pick just one aspect of you to fantasize about, not when every inch of you is so captivating. Eddie grunts, “Yeah, you like that?”
He adjusts his hips, angling them lower to get more friction. The heat blooming causes Eddie’s jaw to go slack. The usual five or six minutes have been halved as the thought of your smile makes Eddie embarrassingly close already.
Wanting to get in a few more thrusts before he’s spent, Eddie pistons himself against the pillow. “Tell me how badly you want me, I wanna hear you say it.”
With one fist continuing to pin the pillow down against the mattress, Eddie trails his other hand up his pale, slender stomach. He digs his gnawed-down nails into his skin, leaving red streaks behind, as he tries to imagine it as your touch. Eddie doesn’t know what it would feel like if it wasn’t his hand, but the thought of you is more than enough.
Devoid of any visual aid, the absence of a magazine or porno tape isn’t hindering him. Typically, when Eddie only has his imagination to utilize, he can beat off without finishing until he eventually gets bored and gives up.
This time it’s different. As his thoughts run wild, Eddie’s rhythm falters. The bed frame squeaks, and the wood shifts while he thrusts as hard as he can.
“Uhhh,” A coarse moan pours from his throat as his cum shoots onto the pillow. Eddie’s thrusts slow to a stop and he pants. The tension in his abdomen gradually subsides as he floats his way back down to earth.
His eyes flutter open, and he’s faced with the mess he made. “Fuckin’ hell,” With a sigh, Eddie decides that he’ll deal with it tomorrow.
After changing into fresh boxers, he chugs down a glass of tap water. Utterly exhausted, Eddie collapses back onto his bed. The aged frame creaks in protest to his abrupt flop. The intensity has been burned away, and what lingers is rawness.
Here’s the thing, Eddie has a way with words, and his unconventional charm comes without a second thought. But conveying himself physically is a different story. His upbringing lacked affection, and consequently, Eddie was robbed of particular milestones. Among those missed moments was sitting on the grass beneath a starry night sky on summer night.
Eddie never got to pluck the green blades from the ground as he gathered the courage to have his first kiss. He hasn’t so much as held someone’s hand before.
With Mr. Pickles tucked under his chin, a wave washes over his heart, wading him further into the tide of ache. Eddie may be inexperienced but he’s not stupid. He’s picking up what you’re putting down. Your persistent hints practically scream at him to make a move.
But your persistence only worsens the anxiety because Eddie’s not sure that he can take the leap like you want him to. It’s not that he doesn’t want you, that couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s uncertainty about what to do if he gets to be with you.
Eddie’s drawn to you, his poor pillow could tell you that much. This isn’t the first night he’s spent laying here trying to talk some sense into himself. When he practices being smooth instead of awkward, Eddie struggles to navigate through the hypothetical scenarios that he’s in complete control of.
If his bedroom walls could speak, they’d tell of those nights. But after the sinful act he just committed, they have a hell of a lot more to say. Those bold utterances were far from who he is. It was a facade, a portrayal of a self-assured man he’ll never embody.
Talking dirty made him feel powerful in the moment because the mask allowed him to avoid facing how he truly feels about you. At his core, what Eddie craves is to baby you, he wants to show you that he can be sensitive. He’d die on the spot to see you in a state of delight from being showered with adoration.
Eddie closes his eyes and envisions a world where he can be what you want. He’d never be oblivious to having food in his teeth, and he’d never push a door that should be pulled. This false reality is one where he doesn’t disappoint you by shying away from your advances. It’s unrealistic, he’s just not wired that way.
During his younger years, Eddie endured the worst of taunting. The other kids mocked his short frizzy curls by referring to it as a “rat’s nest.” They told him that he’d resemble a troll until his dying days.  It was ingrained into him that he was unworthy of any form of love—be it familial, platonic, or romantic. The remarks made about Eddie’s prominent nose convinced him that he was a walking safety hazard and he’d poke someone’s eye out if he ever dared to kiss them.
In the seventh grade, Eddie hit a breaking point. He was fed up with having chewing gum put into his curls. There are too many times to count where Wayne sat for hours with a jar of peanut butter, attempting to free the cemented wads from his nephew’s locks. One day, Eddie stood in front of the mirror in the cramped bathroom and cried at the discovery of another bright pink clump of gum tangled in his hair.
It may have been just one piece at that time, but it was the final straw. Out of desperation, Eddie did the only thing he felt would solve the problem for good. By taking matters into his own hands, he used the clippers to give himself a buzz-cut. As chestnut-colored locks cascaded down, settling atop the sink and his feet, the damage was done.
Wayne lent a hand in handling the patchy spots in the back of Eddie’s head that he couldn’t quite reach. The impromptu solution worked as he’d hoped, but it only opened the door to different torment. 
The following school day, his classmates didn’t hold back, likening his appearance to that of an inmate waiting to meet Old Sparky, or cruelly suggesting that he resembles his imprisoned father.
Eddie quickly came to understand that he was never going to be the guy girls wished would ask them to the dance. The scars of rejection were etched into his self-esteem, and since then, he’s come to terms with his inadequacy.
Perhaps you’re interested in Eddie because there are still things you don’t know about him. Surely, once you learn how unworthy he is, you’ll laugh in his face just as the others did.
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Tonight he’s shielded from the nightlife commotion inside his van, parked along the curb outside your apartment. He sits patiently, watching the pine tree-shaped air freshener gently sway with the feeble push of air from the AC vents.
It’s Friday night, and there’s nothing he’d rather do than spend it with you. Eddie directs his attention toward your building as you descend the steps of your apartment’s stoop.
Eddie detects the effort, even from afar. Your shoes look new and you’re wearing more makeup than he’s used to seeing you in. These differences have him pondering the significance behind the deliberate choices.
When Eddie casually suggested catching a movie a few days ago, he hadn’t thought much of it. To him, it was merely something you hadn't done together. He didn’t think twice when you got so excited about seeing a late-night showing of Die Hard.
It’s dawning on him that it wasn’t because you’re a big Bruce Willis fan. The reason you’re all gussied up is because this is a date. He asked you out on a date.
This is not a problem, per se. Eddie’s thrilled about going on his very first date, but fear also has him in a chokehold because he’s unprepared.
Wayne never took the time to give his nephew the lowdown on dating. It didn’t come up because Eddie never displayed interest or curiosity about it.
He’s at a loss. Eddie doesn’t know how to carry himself, he doesn’t have a clue about what’s considered proper etiquette beyond what he’s seen on TV and in movies. Are those even reliable sources?
As you cross the sidewalk in his direction, Eddie’s palms grow slick. It suddenly registers that he should be outside, ready to hold the car door open for you. But before he can act on this realization, you swiftly swing the door open and slip onto the passenger seat.
"Hi," You chirp, the sound almost a squeak as you close the car door behind you. You subtly adjust the bottom of your dress before securing your seatbelt.
“Hey,” Eddie’s eyes wander over your body until he finds himself admiring your bare knees.
With a jolt, his eyes snap back to your face, only for you to be watching him with a pleased expression adorning your features.
Eddie clears his throat and busies himself with turning over the ignition. “You look nice,” he scrunched his face. “Pretty! I meant to say you look pretty.”
"Thanks," you reply appreciatively and inspect your freshly painted nails to ensure they’ve withstood the indecisive wardrobe changes of the past half hour.
Throughout the brief drive, engaging in small talk grants Eddie a temporary respite from his brain being in overdrive. Determined to maintain composure, he makes a conscious effort to avoid looking your way.
Eddie successfully carries the conversation as you enter the lobby and get through the refreshments line. Luckily, you secure the last two seats at the end of a row; he’d have been mortified if the theater was oversold and there weren’t any seats left.
The first half of the movie goes as one would expect; you’re comfortably seated beside him, occasionally whispering commentary to each other. Meanwhile, Eddie shovels fistfuls of over-buttered and under-salted popcorn into his mouth, crunching away as the scenes progress on the screen before him.
But then there’s a subtle shift in your body language. He assumes that your inability to sit still might be caused by the need for a restroom break. That is until your knee gradually inches closer to his.
The film has become an afterthought as Eddie watches you place your hand on your thigh, noticeably close to his own that’s casually hanging off of the armrest. It’s impossible to differentiate the pounding pulse in his ears from the blasts of gunfire booming through the theater.
When your fingertips graze his, Eddie rips his hand away to reach for the bucket of popcorn that’s resting in the ditch of his opposite arm. “Want some?” he fails to whisper while offering the bucket to you.
The explosive flashes of red and yellow harshly illuminate your face and without a word, you shake your head and go back to the movie.
Eddie puts the bucket back where it was, and in the hopes of distracting himself from the guilty tingle in his feet, he fidgets with his wristwatch. Repeatedly, Eddie clasps and unclasps it, making the strap incredibly loose and uncomfortably tight around his wrist.
A few minutes go by and without warning, his heart stops because you unexpectedly rest your head on his shoulder.
As if struck by lightning, Eddie leaps to his feet. The motion launches the bucket of popcorn into the air, and the people in the row in front of you are showered with kernels. He's as stiff as a board as he’s confronted with mild uproar and a chorus of expletives. 
Red-faced and unsure of whom to apologize to first, Eddie turns to you. “Shit! I’ll go get another one,” He doesn’t wait for your response and rushes down the stairs, practically leaping over them two at a time.
After bursting through the double doors and out into the empty hallway, Eddie brings his palm to his forehead, his other hand propped on his hip while he paces. Once he’s able to collect himself, Eddie heads toward the lobby, only to find that everything is powered down. 
Eddie decides to use the little time he has to rehearse what he’ll say. There might not be anything he can do to play off his peculiar behavior; at least, nothing that he can think of at the moment.
As he shows up empty-handed, Eddie doesn’t overlook your rigid posture. Your left leg is crossed over your right, pointing away from him. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that you’re just upset that he wasted the popcorn and didn't get more.
In your lack of questioning, Eddie feels compelled to explain himself. “Concessions were closed, so…” He gestures with upturned palms, but you don’t acknowledge that he’s spoken or come back.
Not having received a response, Eddie resorts to chewing on his thumbnail and his leg bounces in tandem. Lost in his head, he finds it increasingly difficult to focus on the remainder of the movie.
Exiting the theater and stepping out into the parking lot, Eddie’s voice lacks confidence as he walks alongside you. “What’d ya think? I give it a solid six out of ten.”
You reply with a casual shrug and wrap your arms around yourself. “It was alright.”
“How ‘bout I treat you to Dove’s? Wanna go for a bite?” Eddie suggests to salvage the remainder of the evening.
“I’ll pass. I’m not hungry,” you say curtly, taking a step ahead to open the passenger door for yourself, denying Eddie a second chance to hold it open for you. 
“Oh,” Eddie begins, but his sentence is severed by the slam of the door. “Okay,” he finishes with a sigh.
During the drive back to your neighborhood, the air feels dense. The radio commercials do little to fill the space between you.
Upon the front tire nudging the curb, you get out of the van before Eddie has put it in park. He hurriedly follows suit, rushing over to catch up with you as you head toward your front steps.
“I had a good time tonight. Did you?” Eddie blurts out.
Pausing in your steps, you turn around and face him. “Yeah, I guess.”
Knowing that he’s the cause of your deflated spirit punches a pang to his chest. Eddie offers a gentle expression. “Would you wanna go again sometime? Probably best if you hold the popcorn though,” he chuckles uncomfortably.
“Night, Eddie,” You say with finality before letting yourself into your apartment.
Once you’ve gone inside, dejection overtakes Eddie’s features. “Goodnight,” he mutters to himself, biting the inside of his cheek.
Sifting through the mental archive of wisdom passed down by Wayne, Eddie desperately rummages for any guidance that could apply to his current situation.
Eddie has officially had the world’s worst date, and it very well could be the only one he’ll ever get to go on. It only hurts more that the outcome was entirely his fault.
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You’re avoiding him, that much is obvious. You stopped showing up to do laundry together and while he performs, you intentionally keep your back turned to the stage.
After your Saturday shifts end, you no longer stick around to hang out with Eddie, instead choosing to leave with your fellow waitresses.
One would think that it was a tough decision, but it makes perfect sense to him. Eddie gives up playing on Saturdays to avoid crossing paths with you. He reverts to his old spot on Thursday nights.
It’s a way to protect himself while making things easier for you. He can’t fathom how repulsed you are by his presence at this point.
Eddie sits at the folding table in his living room, his feet hooked with one another. The blaring thrash metal fills the room as he meticulously drafts tattoo concepts, completely absorbed in his sketchbook.
The incessant ringing of the telephone hardly cuts through the music. Eddie ignores it for the first two rings and lets out a reluctant huff before pausing the tape and picking up the receiver.
“Hello?”
“Heyyy, can you come get me?” Your cheerful request weaves through the lively chatter and honking car horns in the background.
Not having seen you in two weeks, your voice hits him like a wall. “What for?”
“M’ready to go home.”
Eddie reads his watch and leans against the wall. “I don’t see what that has to do with me.”
“You know what, forget it. I’ll just walk home.”
“Absolutely fucking not. What bar are you at?”
“Errr, The Dugout I think.”
“Stay put, alright? Wait for me inside, I’ll be there in a few,” After hanging up, he recklessly shoves his feet into his Reeboks and snatches his car keys from the counter.
Eddie arrives, expecting you to be inside. But there you are, sitting on the curb, right where you shouldn’t be. He calls out to you and jogs over, dodging a few bar-goers on the way.
At first, you turn your head the wrong way when you hear your name called. When you spot him, you scramble upright. “You came for me!” Excitedly, you raise your hands above your head and it slightly throws off your balance. 
“Holy shit, you’re plastered,” Eddie half-scoffs, half-laughs. His eyes roam your body, and he immediately takes notice of your scraped and bloodied knees. “Jesus, what happened?”
“Huh?” you ask, your drunken buoyancy unaffected by his evident concern. Following his guided point, you simply shrug. “I dunno, can’t remember.”
“You’re not here by yourself, are you?” Eddie scans the area, looking for any signs of someone accompanying you.
“Mmm... no, well yes. My girlfriends were here but they left.”
Eddie scoffs, “You’ve got some shitty friends.”
“Good thing I have you. My very own knight in shining armor is here to rescue me!”
“That tower of yours must’ve had quite the mini bar, princess,” Eddie remarks.
“Let’s go,” Eddie instructs, heading toward his van with the assumption that you’re following.  Peeking over his shoulder, you’re practically tripping over your own feet.
The long strap of your purse slides off your shoulder, snags on your bent elbow, and the bag thuds against your calf.
“What am I gonna do with you, hmm?” He steps back, takes hold of your purse, and throws it over his shoulder. Then, he wraps his arm around your waist and holds you snugly to his side, determined to get you home safely by whatever means necessary. After helping you into the passenger seat, he reaches over to fasten your seatbelt. “No hurling in here, got it?”
“Yes, sir,” you salute before sitting back so that your head is supported by the headrest.
Getting you up the stairs was the hard part. He unlocks the apartment door and gently steers you toward the bathroom.
You make a feeble attempt to resist, grasping onto the door frame before finally yielding to your waning strength.
Eddie lets go of you and begins to rummage in search of supplies.
“Okay, Eddie Bear. I’m ready for my bath,” You slur, leaning against the wall for support as you start to ease yourself into the tub.
“Eddie Bear, huh? That’s new,” he snorts before glancing over. “Oh, no you don’t. C’mere,” Eddie grasps you by the waist once more, guiding you to sit on the closed toilet seat.
With both hands, he cradles your booze-warmed cheeks, unintentionally pushing your lips into a pout. “Stay put, would ya?”
Mumbling to himself, Eddie goes back to gathering the first aid supplies. “I look away for two goddamn seconds. Nothing but trouble, I swear.”
The pout doesn’t leave your face and you cross your arms with an annoyed huff. As the seconds pass, it's as though there’s elevator music playing in your head while you wait for something to happen.
Eddie crouches at your feet. “So, what’s your justification for getting shit-faced on a weeknight?” The tip of his tongue peeks out from between his lips as he begins wiping away the dried blood on your knees with a damp cloth.
“Boys are dumb, that’s why.”
“I know, aren’t they just the worst?” Eddie concurs with a hum. He stands to rinse the cloth, washes his hands, and then fully gets to his knees on the tile floor to apply ointment.
“Yeah, they are,” Your voice trails off as you look at his fingers resting firmly on your thigh, just above your knee, to prevent any inadvertent movement.
Engrossed in your own little world, you start humming an improvised tune. “Like them so much,” you sing-song to yourself.
Eddie glances up at you briefly. “What’s that?”
“Your hands,” you explain and poke each of his knuckles with your index finger. “You’ve got such nice fingies.”
“Fingies?” Eddie smiles as he secures bandages over both of your knees. He withdraws his touch from your thigh and he takes hold of your hand, turning it palm-side up.
“Mhm, the nicest.”
“Yours are nice too,” he comments as he cleans the scrape on the heel of your hand. As Eddie admires the intricate lines and wrinkles across your palm, he inadvertently brushes the cloth directly against your wound.
You make a high-pitched fuss in reaction to the sudden contact, reflexively pulling your hand away.
“Shit, sorry,” Eddie apologizes earnestly. He applies the ointment before applying a bandage. Rising to his feet, he theatrically brushes off his hands. “There, good as new.”
You reach out to him in a toddler-like manner and make grabby hands at him.
Eddie laughs and leans against the door frame. “I’m not carrying you. Brush your teeth so we can get you into bed.”
“You’re no fun,” you groan while you stand awkwardly, the bandages restricting full movement. You wet your toothbrush and squeeze toothpaste onto it, making sure to shoot a scowl at Eddie as you do.
After lackadaisically brushing your teeth, you plop the brush back into its cup. “There, squeaky clean. Happy?”
“As a clam,” Eddie says with a grin. He steps back to allow you out of the bathroom. “Go put your PJs on.”
With a dismissive wave, you drag your feet to your room and begin to dig through your dresser drawer.
Just as he’s about to start picking up after himself, he’s interrupted.
“Eddie,” You call out defeatedly. 
“Yeah?” When he doesn’t receive an immediate response, he cautiously steps into the doorway of your room. There you stand, still wearing your dress.
“I can’t reach it,” You say, turning your back to him and bowing your head slightly, signaling that you need his assistance.
Eddie swallows hard and mutters under his breath, “Right, the zipper,” Stepping into the room, his hands start to tremble.
Now positioned behind you, he carefully takes hold of the small piece of metal. Despite the trembling, Eddie tries his best not to make contact with your skin as it’s revealed by the descending zipper.
Dizziness consumes him as his eyes flit between your shoulder blades. Once your dress is completely unzipped, Eddie takes a significant step backward, putting distance between the two of you. “Is that all you need?”
You return to sifting through your pajama options. “I think so.” 
Eddie retreats to the bathroom. The image of your bare back is seared into his memory, he’s just gonna have to live with it etched into his mind forever.
After regaining his composure, he locates some aspirin and fills a drinking glass with water. “Are you decent?” Eddie asks hesitantly, not daring to step closer to the threshold without receiving confirmation.
“Uh huh,” You mumble, flopping onto your bed and committing to the first position you land in.
Holding the cup of water and two tablets of pain relief, Eddie re-enters your bedroom. He finds you sprawled and droopy-eyed lying on your back.
Eddie’s chunky metal rings clink against the glass when he sets it down on your nightstand. “I think you’ll appreciate this little visit from the aspirin fairy come morning. You’re gonna feel like shit.”
“Okay,” you murmur, your attention glued to how his strong nose casts a shadow on his cheek in the glow of your bedside lamp. Flipping onto your side facing the door, you yawn and stretch your toes.
Eddie gathers the jumbled blanket from the other side of the bed and drapes it over you, covering you up to your shoulders with care.
Although he wants to, he refrains from tucking you in, concerned that you might trip or get more hurt if you need to get up. “Well, goodnight.”
Just as Eddie turns to leave, your weak grasp seizes his hand before he’s out of reach. It stops him in his tracks, and his gaze follows the path from your joined hands, tracing up your arm until his eyes meet yours.
Fighting to keep your eyes open, you’re teetering on the edge of consciousness. “I don’t want you to go.”
He returns without needing any further invitation and sits on the edge of the bed by your belly. Releasing his hand, you rub your eye before tucking your fist beside your head.
Looking down at you affectionately, a grin graces Eddie’s face. He watches as your eyelids flutter closed, and your breathing becomes slow and steady. “Such a sleepy girl.”
With your eyes cemented closed, you adjust your head on the pillow before drifting off to sleep. Eddie stays put for a minute or two, simply admiring you. He’s never seen something so precious.
His heartbeat rattles his ribs, just as it did the first time he saw you waitressing at Double Barrel. That static-like tingling plagues his extremities as an old thought resurfaces. In those conversations where you shared your life stories, Eddie couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to be kissed by you.
Eddie’s eyes brim with tears at the fact that his presence is solely due to your inebriation, and this closeness it’s about to expire. “God,” he exhales, rolling his eyes skyward to hold back his tears.
“Sleep tight, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers, pulling the blanket a touch higher over your shoulder. Then, he switches off the lamp and leaves you to rest.
Dwelling on the fact that you won’t remember tonight won’t do him any good. Getting this close to you would have never happened in sober circumstances. At least he got to take care of you in the way he always wanted, even if only for a short time.
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Over the past few days, Eddie has been thinking about how he felt when you relied on him to get you home. He’s curious whether the call you made to him signifies that you still want him in your life. If that happens to be the case, then he can work with that.
Going through with this might worsen the sting of rejection, but Eddie has his heart set on mending things.
Within moments of entering the bar and scouring the room for you, he spots you conversing with Lee about a table’s order. Eddie begins to pat his thighs in an erratic rhythm as he feels his insides lurch.
As soon as Lee notices Eddie, he wraps up the conversation and gets back to work. You observe Eddie, noticing the hopefulness on his face as he strides across the room. “Do you need something?”
“Not necessarily. I was wondering if I could uh, make you dinner or something?” Eddie kicks one foot with the other and totters back and forth in place. 
Your expression changes to one of disbelieving annoyance. “I can slap together a PB&J at home, but thanks.”
“No, no. I’m serious, I’ll make whatever you want,” Eddie insists.
“What for?”
Eddie briefly looks away, scratching at the nape of his neck. “I miss hanging out with you.”
“I don’t know,” You ponder with uncertainty, your gaze monitoring the occupied tables in case you’re needed.
“Let me cook for you. I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”
His pleading eyes wear you down. “Fine, when?”
A bright smile spreads across Eddie’s face, stretching from ear to ear. He bounces on his tiptoes with enthusiasm. “I’ll call you tomorrow and we can set a time then.”
“Sure, yeah,” you respond, your attention diverted to a booth on the far side of the room where the seated customers wave you over. “Look, I gotta go.”
You’re already back in work mode and walking away before Eddie can say anything else. He just stands there, incapable of shrinking his smile to a mere grin.
Bowing his head, Eddie pumps his fists at his sides in a moment of triumph. With the opportunity for redemption sitting in his lap, he has his heart set on making things right.
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In the days leading up to the agreed-upon dinner, Eddie makes several trips to the library, hunting for a recipe for the meal you mentioned. He dips into his emergency savings to purchase extra ingredients, dedicating his time and money to practice making it.
The first go around, he forgot to add two crucial ingredients, resulting in a bland and tasteless dish. Eddie couldn’t let it go to waste, so he settled for the less-than-impressive dinner that night.
On the second attempt, he tried to compensate for the previous mistake by adding more than enough seasoning. He didn’t exactly do it on purpose; it poured out of the canister much faster than Eddie expected. Regrettably, that meal went straight into the trash. Eddie couldn’t stomach a forkful of it.
Eddie absolutely, positively cannot fuck this one up. He can’t afford to, both figuratively and literally. Without a doubt, if he serves you a shit dinner, you’ll push him out of your life for good.
When you knock on the front door, the perceived silence on the other side of the door is broken with a clatter and muffled cursing. The quiet resumes and hangs in the air for a couple of seconds before the door swings open.
There stands Eddie, hair a little tousled. “Hello, hello!”
His stomach does somersaults at the sight before him; your clothes accentuate your figure, and your skirt suits you. Once again, you look stunning and appropriately dressed for a date.
Meanwhile, Eddie doesn’t have many options to choose from. The most formal thing he owns is a button-up shirt and it’s too dressy, but it’s all he has. Paired with it are his holeless black jeans. Before today, he never thought it was possible to be both over and underdressed at the same time.
“Come on in,” Eddie says, stepping aside with reluctance, allowing you to enter his apartment.
As soon as he opened the door to you, his mind turned into a whirlwind of second-guessing himself. The shirt is definitely too formal, but Eddie wants to prove that he knows it’s a date this time, and he means for it to be one. If only he owned an iron so that the material wasn’t as wrinkly as it is.
He wants to prove that he can clean up nicely, evident from the scent of aftershave and cologne. Eddie meticulously clipped his fingernails and tidied his eyebrows, ensuring that he is as presentable as possible.
“This is my castle,” He gestures to the space.
The entirety of the afternoon was spent tidying up and Eddie couldn’t bear to leave a single surface undusted. Any potentially embarrassing materials were tucked away and he washed all of his dirty dishes.
As you enter and survey his studio apartment, he takes the opportunity to rake through his bangs with his fingers. You spot his sketchbook sprawled open on the guitar amp and pick it up.
“Oh, those are nothing, you don’t have to-” Eddie moves forward and reaches out, intending to retrieve the drawing pad, but pauses when you point to the sketch he recently finished.
“This one,” you trace the lines of the drawing with your finger before looking over at him. “I’d get this one.”
“You’d let me give you ink?” There’s a hint of insecurity and surprise in his voice as he subtly retrieves the sketchbook from your grasp.
“Maybe. It depends if you’re still shit at it,” you shrug casually, interlocking your hands behind your back as you assess the living room area. Your attention falls on the antique bookshelf, adorned with miscellaneous items and framed photos. “Has Cliff let you take clients yet?”
“No, you’d be my first real canvas,” Eddie admits.
As you continue looking around, his gaze is one beat ahead of yours. His eyes land on it just before yours do, and his stomach drops upon spotting the one thing he forgot to hide.
“Oh my god!” You squeal, rushing over to the couch and scooping up Mr. Pickles. “Who’s this cutie?”
Pale as a ghost, Eddie stares blankly back at you. How the fuck did he forget to hide the one thing on this planet that rids him of all masculinity.
“I’ll introduce you another time,” Eddie silently urges you to put Mr. Pickles back in his spot, desperately hoping you’ll never bring it up again.
In actuality, he should be thanking himself for the oversight, because you look far more high-spirited than when you stood outside his door.
“I’m looking forward to it,” You brush over the matted fur on the bunny’s head before carefully placing him back on the sofa.
The tension dissipates on his body as he picks up on the change in your energy. It’s reminiscent of how happy you were to see him when you were drunk. But this time is different; it’s genuine, rather than influenced by alcohol.
You’re lured into the kitchen by the incredible aroma, and the steaming food matches the enticing smell. “There’s no way in hell you made that.”
“You bet your ass I did,” Eddie retorts with his hands on his hips while he makes his way from the front door to the kitchen.
You step closer to him. “No one’s ever done anything like this for me before,” you purr, inching closer until your toes nearly make contact with his socked ones. With featherlight pressure, you place a tender kiss on his cheek. “Thank you.”
Eddie’s internal circuits fry as he tries to process the fact that he just got kissed on the cheek for the first time. His lungs refuse their vital function, denying him oxygen. He retreats by half a step, attempting to mask the blazing rosiness of his face.
“For god’s sake, I’m so sick of whatever this stupid game is.”
“What game? I’m not-” Eddie panics.
“You get me to throw myself at you by doing thoughtful shit like this, but when I finally make a move, you act revolted.”
“I swear to Christ I’m not playing with you. I mean, I’m not trying to,” Eddie explains, his words jumbling together. “I know I've been making a total ass of myself, and tonight was supposed to fix that. But I just- I keep screwing up because I like you and you make me so nervous.”
You scoff, halfway turned toward the door. “That’s hard to believe. You flinch if I so much as bump into you. You don’t want to touch me, I get it.”
A pang of guilt hits him like a baseball bat to the stomach. “No no no, I do! I wanna touch you,” Eddie admits. “Look, you mean so goddamn much to me. You deserve someone who can make you feel good, and I can’t do that.”
Still guarded, you sound agitated but you turn to face him nonetheless. “What are you talking about?”
His voice lowers, a whisper of shame. “I don’t know the first thing about pleasing a woman. Nobody wants to fuck the dorky virgin, y’know?” Eddie’s vision blurs from the tears veiling his vision.
You frown at the vulnerable quiver in his voice. “I do, I’ve been wanting to.”
“Don’t bullshit me,” he lets out a humorless laugh. “I wouldn’t be able to make you cum.”
“I have to disagree with you on that. You’re a fast learner,” You extend your hand to him at waist height.
Eddie stares at your outstretched hand, struggling to process the gesture. He holds his breath, torn between his anxiety and trust. Cautiously, he places his hand in yours.
The benevolent hold pulses a flash flood through his being, the frigid water jolting his systems alive. When you intertwine your fingers with his, the clamminess is evident against the softness of your palm. Insecurity floods him, worried that you’ll be repulsed by it.
Cracks of lightning electrify Eddie’s heart, rendering him unable to meet your gaze. Instead, he focuses intensely on your joined hands. “I have no idea what I'm doing though.”
“That’s okay,” you assure him with a confident smile. Giving his hand a slight squeeze, you add, “See, not so scary anymore, right?”
Eddie shakes his head, even though fear is still coursing through his veins. You pick up on his hesitation and knowing that he won’t do it himself, you guide his hand to your hip and leave it there.
He sort of caresses, not out of boldness, but seeking to alleviate the numbness in his fingers. The sensation has already spread to other parts of his body.
Your patient expression, graced with a grin, grows into a bright smile when you meet his eyes. Eddie’s confidence blossoms, and he uses his other hand to cradle your cheek.
Acquainting himself with the contours of your face, his thumb strokes lightly from beneath your eyes and along your cheekbone. He starts to smile too as his nerves give way to the feeling of reassurance.
As you tilt your head into his touch, your eyelids flutter closed, and you grasp at the loose sides of his shirt, pulling him closer. He steps forward willingly, but his voice retains an uncertain tone. “I really wanna kiss you, but I’ve never, uh…”
You lean in, and the tip of your nose gently brushes against his. The thundering of his heart in his ears drowns out everything but your voice.
“Close your eyes and follow my lead, okay?” The warmth of your breath encircles his lips, turning his knees to jelly. 
Eddie can’t even whisper a confirmation. At your request, he closes his eyes, leaving him solely reliant on his other senses. The smoothness of your lips against his registers as a gentle peck with just enough pressure for him to feel it. It lingers, and he finds himself incapable of moving his lips in response.
“Want another?”
With his eyes still closed, he murmurs, “Yes, please.”
Devilishly, you press a kiss to his wrist, the hand that is still gently cradling your face.
Eddie’s eyes open, a pout and a scowl simultaneously forming his reaction. “Nu-uh, right here,” he insists, leaning in eagerly. He’s caught up in the desire to feel it again but he’s still hesitant to initiate the kiss himself.
You happily close the gap and this time, Eddie slightly purses his lips against yours, doing his best to follow your lead. After giving it a few tries, he feels you withdraw but his head instinctively follows, chasing your lips.
His eyes swirl with affection as he grapples for something to say, feeling breathless and dumb. “Fuck, I don’t wanna stop doing that.”
“Then don’t.”
Finally, Eddie’s able to pursue, but only a fraction of a second before you. With determination, his pecks carry more verve. It’s easier than he thought it would be; granted, he can rely on his ability to keep a steady rhythm, a perk of being a musician.
Eddie didn’t think this could get any better—that is until your lips slot perfectly between his, wet and warm. He pauses, malfunctioning once more. As you kiss him deeply, his mind is dusted in a golden haze and it feels as though he’s floating within himself. Enveloped by the sensation of your hands on his collarbones, a soft noise escapes him.
Mortified, Eddie freezes. Instead of deterring you, it only spurs you on. You wrap your arms around his neck and mold your body against his. The intensity of the kiss only escalates, he’s chasing your storm, matching your every move.
Your fingers entwine in the curls at the nape of his neck, coaxing more noises from him. Eddie is so far gone that he’s unaware of the growing bulge in his jeans. His hand leaves your cheek, traces down your shoulder, and along the outside of your arm before clinging to your waist with both hands.
You hover over his lips, a stream of electricity fizzling between you. “Is it okay if I take my shirt off?”
Eddie forgets to respond but then nods fervently. With curious eyes, he watches intently as you lift your shirt, unveiling skin he’s never seen before.
He inhales and exhales shakily as your necklace falls back into its place against your chest. It’s not a swinging pocket watch, but Eddie is entranced nonetheless.
“You said you wanna touch me,” you draw his trembling hands up your sides. “Now’s your chance.”
Eddie’s hands ascend and meet the silky band of your bra, and you guide his palms forward to the plush foam padding. Your reassuring hold is encouraging, but Eddie tears his stare from your breasts to check-in. He finds you already looking at him, exuding a sweet demeanor. “Give it a try.”
Eddie’s Adam’s apple bobs in the thick column of his throat, his hands unmoving beneath yours.
“Like this,” You squeeze your hands twice before removing your guidance and allowing him to proceed at his own pace.
Adrenaline motivates him to cup them independently this time, and his cock twitches as he commits to the action.
“You’re doing great by the way,” You offer a smile.
Growing more confident, Eddie applies more pressure. His thumbs move in tandem, brushing over the area where your nipples are concealed. The innocent delight in his eyes burns dark into frustration after a few squeezes. Eddie huffs in annoyance at the fact that he’s only getting handfuls of padding.
“Easy, tiger. Want this off too?”
Heartened by the lack of ridicule, he feels safe. Regardless, Eddie fails to articulate more than a few words, his heart lodged in his throat. “If that’s okay with you.” 
“Come sit,” You suggest, taking his hand in yours to lead him to sit on the edge of the bed.
As he sits, Eddie thanks himself for having washed his sheets for tonight, despite never imagining that this would happen.
When you release his hand, both of them return to the plush of your waist, making himself at home there. The straps of your unhooked bra drape loosely on your arms, and his pupils dilate as the foam cups gradually gain distance from your body. 
“Holy shit,” Eddie says under his breath, his bottom lip shining after a swift swipe of his tongue.
Your hips receive an involuntary squeeze as his patience begins to waver. He then slides his hands back up to your ribs, using his thumb followed by the heel of his palms to graze the bottom of your breasts.
With a sigh of relief, Eddie no longer has to daydream about what they might look like. His beautiful brown eyes roam over your body like you’re a masterpiece, a sculpture carved from stone solely for him to admire endlessly. Savoring the moment, he takes his time to appreciate every second. Eddie doesn’t take your trust for granted.
After a minute or two, you scoot backward onto the mattress toward the pillows. “Let’s get more comfortable.”
He watches you recline half-naked on his bed, and his belly swirls at the sight. Eddie follows suit, crawling to you. Now positioned between your legs, Eddie hesitates as he looks down at you, your hips not making any contact.
His touch resumes at your waist, but this time he’s stroking the expanse of your tummy; it inadvertently brings comfort to both you and him. Until this moment, he’s never had the chance to see the tiny details on your face up close—the distinct aspects that compose your sheer beauty.
Eddie’s hazelnut curls hang over his ears as his gaze trails over your neck and chest. His intense adoration makes you want to hide, but the unease is melted away when he captures your lips with his own. Eddie feels like it’s already been too long since he last kissed you, the deprivation like that of extreme thirst.
Goosebumps prickle his fully dressed form, a surge of belonging filling the cracks in the surface of his heart. Timid pecking is a thing of the past, each kiss more fervid than the one before it. The wet click of your lips drowns out the inhibitions buzzing in his ears.
Eddie’s large hand paws at your breast, his thumb playing with your pebbled nipple, drawing a whine from the back of your throat. You tug him closer by his jeans, bringing his hips down against yours. Regardless of the denim barrier, this causes a change in him. When you lift your hips against Eddie, he grinds back just as needily.
As your lips part, he begins a trail of affection along your cheek, jaw, and down your neck. When Eddie reaches your collarbones, his mouth moves hurriedly. He’s itching to fulfill the longing that’s been something he’s imagined plenty of times before. Kissing every inch in his descent, Eddie hunches over and takes your nipple into his mouth.
The melodious sound that pours from you makes him painfully harder. His cock strains against the metal zipper of his jeans, fighting to defy the taut material. You arch into his mouth, and Eddie continues to grind against the apex of your thighs.
He licks his way across to give much-needed attention to your opposite breast, all the while maintaining stimulation on the other with his thumb. Eddie suckles and flicks his tongue, his breath hitting your bare skin like a sweltering midsummer heat wave.
The reciprocity of sincerity is blowing his mind; the way it feels to have your hands weaving through his hair. There’s a slight tug when your fingers catch on a knot, and the sting only fans the flames burning in his lower belly.
Eddie releases your nipple, leaving it bereft of the heat of his mouth. Following his previously explored path up your chest and neck, he bashfully looks into your eyes. “Could I, uh, kiss you down there, too?”
“Normally I’d have to ask for head. Are you sure?”
The melted milk chocolate of his irises practically drips off of his lashes as he blinks at you. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life, sweetheart. I’ve wanted to taste you for so long.”
“I’m not entirely convinced,” You coax him playfully.
“I’ll just have to prove how starving I am then, won’t I?” Eddie quips, moving out of the way to remove your skirt. As he does, the waistband slips from your hips and he slides it off your legs.
You’re in nothing but your panties and the white cotton is not particularly sexy, but they sure are familiar. That day at the laundromat, Eddie never imagined he’d see you in this exact pair at some point. He wonders if you did.
His fingertips tap their way up your thighs until they reach the band of your underwear. You look so cute with your hands resting across your belly like an awaiting princess—his princess.
Much like the skirt before it, the garment is tugged down the curvature of your legs. Your knees knock together as your legs reflexively close. Meanwhile, Eddie is mesmerized by the damp patch on panties hanging from his fist.
“You wanna keep 'em?”
Eddie nods with feigned innocence. These would go to good use, he thinks. 
“They’re all yours,” You grant his wish.
“I feel so spoiled,” he says while tucking them into his back pocket for safekeeping. Then, Eddie redirects his attention to the living art laid out before him. “Especially for getting to see you like this,” he drags his fingertips along the outside of your calves until they reach your knees.
Your legs fall open, proudly putting your glistening cunt on display for him. 
“Fuck,” Eddie says, moon-eyed. He repositions himself between your legs, lying on his stomach. Drool pools on his tongue, his mouth just inches away from your body. With one arm wrapped under your thigh, Eddie uses a finger on his free hand to collect the wetness that’s all for him.
“Don’t be a tease,” You fuss.
“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Eddie responds, ready to put his new skill to use. It starts with a testing press of his lips against your clit. He works his way lower, mouthing at you messily, making out with your cunt. Eddie licks his lips and rests his cheek against your inner thigh. “Can I use my fingers too?”
“Yeah, just take it slow,” You gather his hair and keep it out of his face so it doesn’t get in the way.
Eddie glides two digits through your folds, admiring the way the pads of his fingers glisten with the mix of your slick and his spit. Slowly, he eases his two fingers into your entrance. They sink deeper without facing resistance, and you soak him down to his bottom knuckles. Eddie looks up at you from between your legs, amazed. “You’re so wet.”
You sigh, propping yourself up on your elbows to meet his gaze. “You own a mirror, don’t you? How could I not be.”
Flattered, Eddie smiles. He draws his fingers back before plunging them into you a little faster this time, though not by much. As you lay back and get comfortable, you instinctively roll your hips downward with each thrust of his fingers.
With his cheek still resting on the inside of your thigh, he’s unable to bring himself to speed up, downright mesmerized by the sensation of your velvety walls squeezing around his fingers. When he accidentally flexes and curls them upward, it elicits a pretty gasp from you.
Eddie’s gaze flits up, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What was that?” he teases and does it again, deliberately. “Did you say something?”
You moan, “That feels amazing,” You run your hand up your belly to your breast, massaging yourself in tandem with his improved technique.
He finds a steady tempo, rubbing the spot that makes your nerves flare. With nothing else on his mind, Eddie is fully engrossed as he drives his digits into you. Your fingers suddenly appear before him to rub your clit for added stimulation.
“Oh my god,” You moan unabashedly, arching your back off of the bed in response to the heightened ecstasy.
“You like that?” Eddie looks up at you, feeling a rush of pride as you writhe.
“Yes- fuck, I’m almost there.”
Eddie boldly nudges your hand away with his nose, swiftly replacing your fingers with his tongue, flicking it passionately.
Your moans fill his ears as he laps at you, enjoying the way you taste when you unravel. He’s so in the zone that he fails to realize you’ve already reached your peak and become overstimulated.
You squirm in his grip, gently pushing his forehead away. “Eddie, Eddie!”
“Yeah?” His fingers stop abruptly, and he looks at you with doe-like eyes, your glossy sugar smeared all over his lips and chin.
“It’s too much,” You say exhaustedly.
“Shit, my bad,” Eddie frowns, disappointed that his fun has come to an end. He slowly withdraws his digits, admiring the way you’ve coated them. He drags his fingers down his tongue like your arousal is cake batter from a bowl. A low hum emanates from Eddie as he sucks them clean, inadvertently making a show of it. “God, your pussy tastes good. Even better than I dreamed it would.”
“Come here,” You beckon him, smiling blissfully.
Eddie wastes no time getting onto his hands and knees and crawls up between your legs. Hovering over you, he gazes into your eyes, cheeks dimpled. “I made you cum.”
“I can’t remember the last time I came that hard either,” you chuckle, noticing the sheen on his face. You grab your discarded shirt to wipe it off. “Here, let me-”
“No!” Eddie angles out of your reach, his brow furrowed. Using his still-sticky fingers, he wipes at his lips and chin, licking his digits clean once more. “Can’t let it go to waste.”
After you tuck his frizzy curls behind his ears, Eddie’s tender grin fades. Your hands slowly move down his pecs to his belt, and you tug at the metal buckle. Just as you free the leather from the prong, he stops you.
“Uh- wait.” The hesitance in his voice brings your pursuit to a halt. The way you shrink back causes his heart to squeeze.
“I’m sorry. We don’t have to go all the way if you’re not ready.”
“It’s not that. Believe me,” Eddie reassures you. He brings a hand to the side of your face and strokes your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’m just worried that you’ll never wanna see me again ‘cause I'm so terrible in bed.”
Your shoulders raise and lower with the deep breath that you take. “You said you want to make me feel good, right?”
“More than anything,” Eddie declares in a heartbeat.
“Your cock would.”
Eddie nearly shudders and his voice burns raspy. “Yeah? You want it?”
You hook your fingers through his belt loops and tug, staring back at him intensely. “Not want. I need you inside me.”
“Christ,” he gulps and presses his hips forcefully against yours, dampening the denim. Eddie lowers his mouth to your shoulder and kisses it. “I wanna know what it feels like so bad.”
You turn your head and nibble his earlobe. “Let’s take care of that, shall we?” When your hands return to his partially undone belt, Eddie doesn’t intervene this time.
“I don’t have protection though.”
Blindly, you unbutton and unzip his jeans. “Side pocket of my purse.”
Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away and awkwardly scoots backward off the bed. His pants hang low on his slender hips, exposing the snug elastic band of his blue plaid boxers. After finding the condom, he inspects it. “I have no fucking clue how to use this.”
Sitting up, you hold your hand out. “I can put it on you if you want.”
Eddie hands it to you, then it occurs to him that he’s still fully dressed. While you’re tearing the foil package, he yanks down his jeans and kicks them away, his belt jangling. Only a few buttons are undone from the neck before he gets impatient. Eddie tears his shirt over his head, leaving his mane disheveled.
He pulls at the waistband of his precum-soaked boxers indecisively, but the sight of your beautiful naked body reminds him that it’s only fair. Eddie pulls them down and his anxiety has caused him to go partially soft. When you look at him, he wishes the world would swallow him whole. 
Your eyes rake across his slim frame, then meet his eyes instead of drifting below his waist. Eddie climbs back onto the bed, sitting on his haunches. You crawl onto your knees to join him and pull his body against yours, kissing him.
Mumbling against your lips, he tries to apologize for already failing you by being unable to stay hard, but his words falter as the kiss deepens, his worries becoming an afterthought. Eddie grips your waist, and the sensation of your breasts pressing against his bare chest makes him feel woozy. As soon as you break the kiss, he’s immediately filled with fear once more. “If it’s small or it looks weird, don’t tell me.”
You effectively distract him from his insecurities by trailing your lips down his pulse, dragging your teeth along the supple skin there. Eddie grips your ass harshly, a shaky sound pouring from his throat as you kiss your way down his body. He watches, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.
As you finally look at his shy cock, you run your palms up and down the sparse hair on his outer thighs. “You’re the perfect size for me,” You compliment him with a smile. 
“I am?”
You suck a bruise on the pale skin of his waist. “Yeah, you are.” 
Eddie’s eyes close, his hands resting on your shoulders as he focuses on the sensation of you licking and biting him. Lost in the feeling rather than inside of his head, Eddie’s cock gradually rouses.
Having previously set it aside, you grab the condom. “Hold it still for me, please.”
“O-Okay,” he secures it at the base, his palm covering the trimmed thatch of curls. “Like this?”
“Perfect,” With one hand, you fit the band around the tip, and with your other, you roll the latex down his shaft. That alone causes Eddie’s mouth to fall open, a ghosted moan tumbling from his lips.
“There, easy peasy,” Sitting back up and wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him flush against you. His wrapped, twitching cock is trapped between your bodies. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.”
“I’m not sure I could if I tried,” Eddie says, his eyes flitting between yours. “Is this really happening?”
“It’s happening,” After kissing the tip of his nose, you settle back bringing him down with you to get comfortable, your head resting on the pillow.
Eddie returns to the previous position, this time with your legs hiked around his hips, causing his cock to rub against your mound. Afraid of poking around too much, he asks, “Would you do the honors, m’lady?”
“Why, of course,” you say with a giggle. You guide the head of his cock right where it needs to be and look into Eddie’s eyes. “Go ahead.”
He swallows hard and inches his hips forward, the tip of his cock breaching your entrance. Eddie sinks until he’s halfway sheathed by the hot embrace of your cunt. As he pushes the rest of the way in, his jaw falls slack.
“You doing okay?” You soothingly stroke the bulging veins on his forearms.
“Mhm,” Eddie mumbles with his lips rolled inward. After a few seconds without moving, he draws his hips back and then drives them forward. The moan that rips from his chest is unholy.
After two or three agonizingly slow and experimental thrusts, the motion comes naturally to him after all that practice he’s gotten from humping his poor pillow in this very spot. “Fuck me,” The hand that isn’t supporting Eddie’s weight fists at the bed sheets as he thrusts repeatedly, falling into a slow and steady pace. “Jesus fucking fuck.”
“Look at you go,” you moan out. “It feels amazing, doesn’t it?”
“Feels… god, you feel incredible,” Eddie grunts, propping himself up on both hands. His hair hangs down, swaying with the tempo of his hips. In this position, he can watch the bounce of your body with each thrust and he’s doing just that.
The grazing of your fingernails along his flexing hips throws off his pace. It weakens him, especially when you’re looking at him the way you are. Eddie is so consumed by the feeling of you wrapped around him that he can’t be self-conscious about the fact that he’s moaning every time he sinks back into you.
The shame of virginity has been lifted away as Eddie experiences this night of firsts with the girl he’s crazy about. Eddie is struggling to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss a single second of this. He’s captivated by the way you’re watching his length disappear inside you over and over.
You look stunning lying on his pillow, anchoring his body to yours. Before tonight, he considered the concept of moaning someone's name to be cliché because it only happens in the movies. But Eddie’s had a change of heart because he can’t stop saying yours. It’s all of you right here, right now, all over, making a man out of him.
His muscles begin to tremble, and he lowers himself onto his forearms. Eddie rests his forehead against yours, his hips stuttering. “I’m so close, baby. I don’t wanna cum,” He slows his movement to stave off his orgasm.
“I want you to,” You express while gliding your hands down his muscular back.
“No,” Eddie protests, ceasing his thrusts entirely. “I want you to cum again first.”
“This isn’t about me.”
 “Are you shitting me? It’s always been about you,” he pulls back to look into your eyes. “I’d do anything for you, you’re so damn worth it.”
Just before you have the chance to respond, Eddie unexpectedly rolls his hips. With one hand, he thumbs at your clit, watching how your eyes roll back. He doesn’t even have to look down to see the mess you’re making because he can hear it.
Eddie’s moans dance with yours as he pushes his knees forward, adjusting the angle of his hips to mimic a ‘come hither’ motion. He knows he’s found the spot he discovered prior when your legs spasm around him. In response, Eddie rubs your clit harder.
The way your walls tighten makes it all that more difficult for him to hold back. He’s on the cusp, his abs tensing as he tries to fight it. Your hand flies above you to push against the headboard, your other one occupied with gripping his flexing waist.
“Cum for me,” Eddie growls, frustrated with himself as he teeters on the edge, just seconds away from spilling into the condom.
Your brows furrow and your eyes squeeze shut, a rush of air getting caught in your throat as you climax.
“Yeahhh, that’s it,” Eddie’s abdominal muscles tense to their limit. “Oh- fuck,” His voice pitches higher.
“I’m yours,” You moan prettily and guide him down, letting him bury his face in your neck to give his arms a well-deserved rest.
“All mine,” Eddie says between his labored breaths. He grips and lifts your hips while you kiss his shoulder. Losing their previous steadiness, his strokes become shorter and more sporadic. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum. I’m gonna cuh- uh- mmm.”
Eddie lets out a whimper as he delivers two unsteady thrusts before slamming his hips against you, burying himself as he orgasms. His ass tenses and ripples, the muscles contracting as he rides out his high.
Panting loudly, Eddie stills his movements completely and props himself up to look down at you. “Jesus Christ. After that, I wanna have you for dinner every day,” he says against your cheek before kissing it. “As a snack in the middle of the night,” Eddie adds, kissing your temple. “Shit, you’d be good for breakfast too. It’s the most important meal of the day, y’know.”
You let out a winded giggle, your bodies sticking together as he struggles to keep himself propped up.
“Sweetheart, can I ask you something?”
“You just did,” You tease and smile wide when he rolls his eyes and snorts.
Eddie takes your hand, flattening your palm against his chest so that you can feel how vigorously his heart is beating. “Is this what being in love feels like?” He asks tearfully.
“Yeah,” you nod, placing his hand over your own heart that’s thudding just as hard. “Just like this.”
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tags: @nj01 @tlclick73 @foreveranexpatsposts @madelynraemunson
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ieatfanficforbrunch · 3 months
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People Pleaser Steve
Steve is a people pleaser. Years of living with his parents and their demeaning stares and harsh words have destroyed his sense of self preservation.
"Keep Eye Contact, Steven," his mother would say. "Stop Complaining, You need to make our guest Comfortable." His father would say. Until the age of ten all Steve got was criticism. Constant reminders on how to behave perfectly and how to appease his parents.
The morning they decided he was old enough to stay home himself, coincidentally on his 10th birthday, they packed up and started renting an apartment in Chicago to better monitor their Business. They sent him money for food, got him a bike so he could go to school, they even sent a few extra 20s every other month so he could get new clothes as he grew.
Of course, Steve never complained. This was how he kept the peace, how he avoided the cold glare from his parents.
The pattern continued into adulthood, Steve practically raised himself for the last 8 years of his childhood, he only saw his parents when they needed him.
When he (accidently) became the mother of the nerdiest bunch of kids in Hawkins, he made himself a promise, No matter what he'd be there. Every recital, every birthday party, every holiday, and every time they needed a ride; he was there.
When Christmas came around after everything had happened, after Max had recovered and Eddie's wounds had healed perfectly, he decided he would make it the best Christmas they'd ever seen. Just to make them happy.
He decorated the entire house, made enough food to feed his small football team of a group, he got so many presents for everyone that he had to skip out on food three days a week for two months just because he wanted it to be perfect.
The kids came over on Christmas Eve night to spend the night together, slept in sleeping bags he bought special for them. Eddie came to help wrangle the crazies until Robin got back from visiting her grandparents in Ohio.
They ate like they were starving or like it was their last meal. All except Steve, who was too afraid to overstep or take away from someone else to even try one of the many kinds of food he made.
The games died down and the food was gone by midnight. The kids slept peacefully in their sleeping bags. Steve let out a small sigh, a smile on his face as he stood and took empty platters and plates to the kitchen.
He washed the dishes in silence, a baggy crew neck sweater replacing his usual polos. He knew if he wore them the others would notice he had lost weight and he didn't want to inconvenience them. It was rude to burden others with your problems. He honestly thought he had gotten away with it until a familiar Metal head guided him to the kitchen table.
"Ok Big boy, This isn't working for me," He said in a soft voice.
Steve immediately looked up, "I'm sorry, it won't happen again," he whispered, not even sure what he did.
Eddie sighs and says, "Steve, You think you're hiding it so well but you aren't. You take care of everyone and everything all of the time. Let me take care of you."
Steve couldn't move, couldn't respond, How Was he supposed to behave? He didn't know so he merely nodded.
Eddie smiled and immediately made Steve a bowl of cereal, something small and quiet. When he was positive Steve would eat it, he finished the dishes for him.
Steve looked so beat down and tired, the bags under his eyes told so much and Eddie knew that from now on he would do Everything to keep them away.
He took the empty bowl and washed it before walking over to Steve. "I know it's a bit early but...I got you something," he whispers, pulling out a small box from his back pocket.
It was a light blue box with a thin red ribbon and white trim. Steve's thin fingers removed the lid to find a locket in the shape of a guitar pick.
Inside there were two pictures, one with the kids, and one with Steve and Eddie. It was the picture from when Eddie was discharged, the day Steve agreed to get treatment for his wounds. Eddie's arm is around Steve's shoulders, it's the only picture in the world with Steve's Real smile. His eyes swelled with tears. It's the only gift he's gotten since he was 10, since his parents left to run their company, since Everything.
"Shit I didn't mean to make you cry again! I just-" Eddie is cut off with the tightest hug he's ever gotten.
"It's Perfect," Steve whispers.
He's met with calloused hands on the back of his head, gently massaging his scalp.
"Merry Christmas, Harrington."
"Merry Christmas, Munson."
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jqmunson · 1 month
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Hes fine. Don't worry. He's got cigarettes, snacks and his jams. I just needed to grab him a 6 pack real quick. Can you watch him for me? He don't bite. (Yes, he does.)
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kurtie4life96 · 1 year
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Song request: im afraid to go to heaven with Eddie but make it sexy PLEASE
I'm Afraid I'll Go To Heaven
E.M. × F! Reader
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Summary: Eddie is sick and tired of being called a "Satanist". Maybe his best girl friend can help him relieve that frustration.
CW: MDNI 18+, smut, dom!Eddie, sub!reader, graphic, rough sex, unprotected sex, a bit of ritualistic sex, choking, BLOOD play, KNIFE play, exhibitionism, spitting, handcuffs, masochism/sadism, oral (f receiving), anti-christianity, Christian protesters, smoking
THIS IS VERY ANTI RELIGIOUS/CHRISTIANITY. DO NOT READ IF THAT'S OFFENSIVE TO YOU. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.
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"Here we go again." Eddie mumbled through gritted teeth.
You sat in the passenger seat of his van as he turned into the trailer park, a swarm of angry protesters with picket signs shouting at the two of you, scattered across the front of his house.
"The cops won't do anything?" You asked, sighing out of frustration.
He laughed, motioning towards the protesters, "Nope. Why should they, anyway? I am part of the satanic panic, after all."
After the events of the Upside Down and Eddie almost dying, he was nearly charged for the murders that Vecna had committed. Miraculously, Hopper had managed to clear his name, placing the blame on Jason, as he was there when Patrick died, mercilessly bullied Fred, and his girlfriend was Chrissy. Plus, Jason was now dead. It was all too easy.
But the people of Hawkins still weren't convinced, still called Eddie a murderer, a Satanist, a devil worshipper.
They protested at Hawkins High, his graduation, even going as far to protest outside of his house.
The crowd slowly started to dissipate after a few months, but they were still relentless, calling him a sinner, a murderer, telling him he was going to burn in hell, to repent.
You had tried to protect your friend from these people. You'd screamed at them, threw trash at them, stuck by his side.
But Eddie was still miserable. And they were never going to stop.
Eddie pulled up in front of his trailer, parking and turning his van off. People began to surround it immediately, yelling at him, perhaps the both of you, holding up picket signs with some of the most vile words on them you'd ever seen.
He ran his hands through his hair, agitated, and punched the steering wheel suddenly, cursing to himself.
You reached your hand out to gently hold his, an attempt to calm him down, "We just have to ignore them and go inside."
Eddie snatched his hand away from yours, hurting your feelings a little, but you understood his anger, not taking it too personally.
"I'm sick of just ignoring them!" He exclaimed, wide-eyed, "I know that's what Hopper said to do, but I can't do it anymore, I just- I can't do it!"
He opened the car door and you quickly followed, rushing towards him as he confronted one of the middle-aged, bearded protesters, getting in the man's face.
"You need to repent, young man," he started, "if you want to live forever, be with loved ones in Heaven, you must confess-"
"I don't wanna live forever!" Eddie shouted, taking an even closer step towards him, making the man stumble back a bit.
"You're going to burn in hell-"
"Then so be it!" Eddie smiled maniacally, throwing his hands up in the air, turning around to face the crowd, "I don't want to go to Heaven, I'm afraid to go to Heaven!"
You looked to the crowd, worried, as they began to argue with him, but Eddie cut them off quickly.
"I'm not afraid of a so-called Devil, or- Satan, I'm afraid of being around people like you forever!" He paused to laugh again, screaming, "It's like me- people like me, are your only entertainment in this shitty town now!"
Eddie snatched a picket fence from a nearby protester, smashing it on the gravel, and throwing the broken wooden stick on the ground with an audible, frustrated groan.
The people went nearly silent for a moment, only quietly murmuring amongst themselves as your heart beat rapidly, waiting for Eddie's monologue to end.
"Whatever is waiting for me on the other side, I'm sure it's better than being around you Bible fucking, no spined, fiction loving fucking sheep!"
He was panting heavily now, turning red from rage as the silence continued. You grabbed his arm, giving it a gentle tug.
"C'mon Eddie, let's go inside now." You urged him with a soft, quiet voice.
"Yeah," he announced loudly, still glaring at the crowd, "let's go inside."
You both began to walk up the steps to the front door, Eddie turning towards them again for a moment to throw up his infamous devil horns, before flipping them off.
You walked in first, him slamming the front door behind him.
"You okay?" You turned to him, an empathetic, yet worried look on your face.
"Yeah," he let out a breathy chuckle, "yeah, I'm okay. Are you okay?"
You nodded, giving him a half smile, "Yeah."
Eddie sat down on the couch, sinking into it with a big sigh, fumbling with his rings, chewing on his lip as he stared off into space for a moment.
Little did he know how much your nerves were on fire, from the adrenaline and excitement you felt watching him get angry, snapping at the crowd and losing it a bit.
Watching him yell at the protesters, smash that sign, the way he stood up for himself, put those awful people in their place, it had butterflies filling your stomach, it made your face feel a little too hot. It didn't help that he was in a bad mood, that he was twirling his metal rings on his fingers.
Sure, you'd had a bit of a crush on Eddie of course, especially after his bravery fighting the demo bats, but you hadn't acted on your feelings. It wasn't the right time. He was going through too much, and the two of you had been close friends for years.
Eddie must have noticed you staring off into space too- or more so, staring at his hands, because he had said your name three times before he got your attention.
You perked up, coming back to reality and grinned awkwardly at him, playing with your hair anxiously.
"Sorry, what?"
He looked at you questioningly, like he was trying to read you, one of his hands gesturing towards the seat next to him, "I said, come sit."
"Oh, yeah, of course," you walked over towards the couch, sitting down next to him, feeling unable to relax.
"Smoke?" Eddie held up two cigarettes and a lighter, raising his eyebrows.
"Yeah, sure, thanks." You grabbed one from his fingers, staring at them a little too long again.
You put it between your lips, patting your pockets to look for your own lighter.
"Uh-uh," Eddie scolded you, putting his own cigarette between his lips, lighting yours and then his own, taking a long drag, "pretty girls don't light their own cigarettes."
You took a drag and smiled ear to ear, scooting closer to him until your thigh was touching his, shoving his shoulder playfully, "I've heard that one a few times now, Munson."
"Don't act like you don't like hearing it, though." He chuckled, then stopped, his smile fading away as he heard the faint voices from the protesters still outside.
"Fuckers," he spat, taking another long drag, "they're never going to leave me alone. They'll never leave you or Wayne alone, either. Not til' we leave the damn country or some shit."
"Yeah, probably not." You responded quietly, pursing your lips together, staring at your cigarette.
The both of you sat in silence for a few moments, deep in thought, watching the smoke circle around in the sunlight coming in through the blinds.
"What if there was another way?" You glanced over at him, asking nervously.
"What do you mean?" Eddie gave you a perplexed look.
"What if," you sighed, putting out your cigarette, your heart beginning to beat hard against your chest, "What if there was just... another way?"
"I'm not gonna 'repent for my sins', if that's what you're saying-"
"No, no," you shook your head, "fuck that, hell no. I mean... what if we scared them? Like... enough to make them go away? Leave you alone?"
"How?" Eddie scoffed, taking another puff of his cigarette before reaching his hand towards the ashtray to put it out.
"Hold on," you grabbed his arm abruptly, stopping him, your breathing shaky.
"What're you..." He trailed off, shifting in his seat.
You grasped his hand, keeping eye contact with him, as you slowly moved it towards the back of your forearm.
Eddie screwed his eyebrows together, in disbelief, as your forced his fingers on your forearm, putting his cigarette out on your skin.
You gasped in pain and hissed, your skin seering, before Eddie yanked his arm back, throwing it into the ashtray and grabbing your arm, inspecting the burn.
"What the fuck? Why would you do that? Are you okay? Jesus Christ, why? Why did you do that-"
"Eddie," you said his name softly, like a prayer, "Eddie... if it's okay, we should scare them."
He paused for a moment, still holding your arm, before responding, "What are you proposing?"
"I'm proposing," you took a deep breath, looking into his eyes, "we could make a mess. A mess that'll scare them for life."
Eddie raised an eyebrow at you, looking intrigued, pressing the pad of his thumb into your skin.
"What kind of mess?"
"Eddie, I like you. I know it's not the best time to tell you that, but you don't have to like me back," you continued to ramble, "I know the things you like to do when you're... having fun. You've told me. And I like the same things too, sometimes."
Eddie stared at you intently, leaning closer towards you, motioning for you to continue, "Go on, I'm listening."
You sighed, "You could use me, if you want, we could make a big scene, you know, scare them off, but only if you want to, you can say no-"
He interrupted you by grabbing both sides of your face, his rings cold against your skin as he crashed his lips onto yours, leaning into you as much as he could. Your body froze for a second, in shock, but you quickly kissed him back, resting your hands on his shoulders and humming contently.
"Oh, sweetheart, my pretty angel," Eddie broke the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours, his lips grazing your own as he spoke softly, "I thought you'd never ask."
"Really?" You pulled back and looked into his dark eyes.
"Really." His lips curled in a smile, then slowly faded as he asked, "Are you sure that's what you want? Because- I could really hurt you."
You nodded eagerly, "Yes, yeah, it's what I want. It's what I want with you."
"Okay," Eddie sighed, sitting upright as he looked down at you, "but if it gets to be too much, tell me. There's... a lot of weird things I'd want to do with you."
You sat on your knees, gazing up at him, almost as if you were worshipping him. His beautiful brown eyes, his long, frizzy dark hair framing his face just right, his clothes, his plump lips making you feel intoxicated.
"Eddie," you assured him softly, reaching a hand towards his hair, brushing it with your fingers, "nothing is gonna be too much. I like weird. And with these insane assholes outside," you looked towards the window, "how about we make it fun? Like you said... we're just entertainment. Let's put on a show."
He stared down at you, breathless, his heart racing, feeling absolutely feral- a mixture of his anger, excitement, and the sight of you fully giving yourself to him.
Eddie looked over to the window above you that faced the front yard, the crowd still there shouting, and he opened the blinds, staring outside with a sinister smile.
There was a moment of quiet between the two of you, the air thick with tension and anticipation, as you gazed at each other with locked eyes, before Eddie crashed his lips against yours again, much harder this time as he grabbed your hair to yank your head back, his other hand gently cradling the side of your neck.
You moaned into each other's mouths lightly, the kisses increasingly becoming faster, animalistic, carnal, not being able to get enough of each other. You both panted heavily between kisses as you smoothed your hands down his sides, then sliding them under his shirt to feel his scars and soft skin.
Eddie slid his tongue across your bottom lip languid, feeling like silk, the taste of him silencing all of your thoughts as you licked into each other's mouths feverishly, deeply, him tasting sweet like cherry coke- before he bit down on it, hard.
Normally this action would make someone gasp, yelp, cry even- but not you. You sighed contently as Eddie sucked on your bleeding lip, then sat upright again to look down on you, as if he was a God.
"Open." He commanded in a low voice.
You did as you were told, knowing what was coming next. He spat your blood back into your mouth, the taste of iron flooding your senses. You swallowed, licking your injured lip before he could tell you to do so.
"Fuck," Eddie groaned, "you are fucking unreal."
He stood up from the couch suddenly, and before you could question him, he grabbed your ass and lifted you up, setting you down harshly on the top of the couch, your back facing the window.
"I can't wait to put bruises all over this pretty skin." He rasped.
He lifted your shirt up eagerly, pulling it off of you and tossing it to the side.
"No bra, huh?" He smirked.
Before you could respond, Eddie went straight for your jawline, at first kissing it sloppily, then getting greedy, sucking and biting on your skin brutally, as he palmed your breasts, groping them and pinching your nipples, making you gasp and arch into him, his hair tickling your shoulder.
He made his descent down your neck and chest, sucking your delicate skin so harshly it began to bleed as you huffed and raked your fingers through his hair and tugged, wrapping your legs around him, silently asking him for more.
He licked down slowly between your breasts, keeping eye contact with you, then took one into his mouth, kissing and swirling around his tongue.
"Eddie, please," you whimpered, still tasting iron, "more..."
"More what, pretty girl?" He asked in a husky voice.
"Just... more," you whined, "just- I want you!"
"Fuck," he moaned lowly.
He pulled down your pants and panties off your hips and legs frantically, but swiftly, throwing them to the side with your shirt.
Eddie stood back for a moment, admiring your now nearly naked body with hungry eyes- the only garment still on you being your slouch socks, your bare ass pressed up to the window, as you gazed at his lithe figure.
"Open your legs." He gently demanded.
You did as you were told, and he breathed out a shaky exhale as he gazed at your heat.
He looked up towards your face again, your bleeding bruises, your bloodied lip with hooded, unholy eyes.
You grasped the back of the couch with both hands, leaning your head back, and let out a desperate sigh.
"Eddie-"
He kneeled on the couch quickly, spreading your thighs apart, then sliding two fingers along your soaked lips, and began to move his tongue along your clit messy and rapidly, lapping at your heat with a heavy tongue that somehow felt like velvet.
You cried out a mixture of his name and expletives as euphoria gripped your body, arching into his mouth and your muscles tightening.
"Eddie," you cried, "fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god-"
He slipped two fingers into you easily, curling them harshly, you feeling his rings at your entrance.
You gasped at the action, raking your hands through his hair, and you felt him smirk against your wet heat as he began to snake his other hand up your bare chest.
You needed more of him, so much more, and you grabbed his wrist, beginning to guide it towards your neck.
Eddie instantly got the hint, and wrapped his big hand around your throat, pressing his fingers into the sides of your neck.
You groaned in pleasure as blood ceased to travel to your brain, ecstacy taking over every inch of your body as your eyes rolled into the back of your head as he continued to savor you relentlessly.
"Harder," you managed to choke out, "please, harder-"
He moaned against you at your request and squeezed harder, making you see stars.
Your skin was on fire as you began to lose composure, and the world crashed around you, the strongest orgasm you've ever felt hitting its peak as you tried to moan, but your voice was strained.
Eddie continued to work you through your high, then kissed your sensitive nub, making you twitch before pulling back, his mouth slightly agape and wet with your slick as the both of you panted. He licked his lips and leaned towards you, kissing you gingerly as you tasted yourself on your tongue, then he promptly bit your lip again, reopening your wound.
"You look so hot when you're bleeding," he huffed against your mouth.
You gripped his shirt with one hand, then reached towards his hard, aching length with the other, making him groan.
"Eddie," you mumbled, "please, take them off, let me-"
"Next time, baby," he assured you, "next time. The sun is gonna go down. We need to hurry."
Your stomach fluttered at his words, 'next time', as you watched him take off his jacket and shirt swiftly, then pulling down his pants and checkered boxers, letting his cock free.
You stared at his length with wide eyes. You knew he would be a little big, but he was larger than you'd imagined. Your mouth nearly watered at the sight. You then watched him lean down to pull something out of his jean pockets.
Eddie stood up, holding up his switchblade, the sharp tip of it shining as he gazed at you intently.
"Do you trust me?" He asked.
"Yes," you whispered.
"Give me your hand."
You reached your arm out to him, excitement and nervousness bursting in your abdomen.
"This is gonna hurt, okay?"
You softly smiled and nodded, "Okay."
He grabbed your wrist, pressing the blade into your palm and quickly slashing a line into it, blood beginning to pool in your hand immediately. You winced at the pain, but gave him a hum of agreement.
Nodding at you, Eddie took to his own hand, slicing it the same way he did to yours, blood dripping through his fingers.
He threw the knife to the side before intertwining his fingers with yours, pressing your bleeding wounds together, then grabbed the back of your head, leaning in to kiss you passionately.
He pulled back, and took to your chest, smearing the mixture of each others blood all over your neck and breasts, his eyes seemingly turned black.
You whimpered at the sight, but were pleasantly surprised by how much it turned you on, rubbing your thighs together for some friction as your core ached.
"Turn around." Eddie instructed you, grasping your thigh, motioning for you to turn over.
With a sharp inhale and exhale, you turned around, knees on the seats of the couch, hands grabbing the back of couch, as you looked out the window, the crowd of people still outside now looking back at you in horror.
You smirked at them maliciously, wiping your face, smearing it with more blood to terrify them even more.
Eddie groaned at the action and kissed your lower back, squeezing your ass, taking his length into his hand.
"You're the most beautiful thing that's ever happened to me. And I'm gonna ruin you."
"Do it, Eddie," you whispered.
He lined his tip with your entrance, then gripped your hips harshly, slamming all the way into you with ease, bottoming out.
You both gasped loudly in unison, his cock stretching you out in a way that could only be described as perfect.
"You're so tight, fuck, you're gonna kill me baby." He groaned.
Eddie began to set a slow, but harsh pace, pounding into you deeply as you pushed back against his thrusts. It felt so much like Heaven, that you nearly forgot what you needed to do.
As he continued to snap his hips into yours harshly, you squeezed your wounded hand, collecting more blood in your palm, and dripped it onto the window, smearing it between his thrusts until you were satisfied that it was covered.
He began to fuck into you faster, hitting your cervix every time, as you began your work on the window, drawing a sloppy, inverted pentagram with your fingertips through the blood, the both of you cursing and moaning each other's names.
The crowd outside was horrified at the sight of your bloodied chest, the bloodied window, and the symbol you drew, making them leave the property rapidly in terror, like a bat out of hell.
You arched your back even more, goosebumps spreading across your skin as you both moaned, Eddie still fucking into you, raking his fingernails on your back, leaving behind a pattern of scratches.
Once you'd noticed that the voices outside had disappeared, you wiped your uninjured hand on the fogged, bloody glass, peering out the window.
"Eddie, fuck," you stammered between his thrusts, "it worked- they- they left. They all left."
He let out a breathy laugh, slowing down his pace, smoothing his hands up and down your back, "Oh, angel. You're so smart. Such a good girl."
You chuckled a bit through pants, reaching your arms back towards him to touch him, to hold his hands for a moment.
Eddie suddenly pulled out of you, and you whined at the loss, confused.
"What are you-"
Before you could question him, he grabbed your waist, lifting you up off the couch and making you yelp, throwing your naked body over his shoulder and quickly heading to his bedroom.
"Eddie," you laughed nervously, "what's happening?"
"Sh," he shushed you, placing a kiss to your side, then throwing you on your back onto his bed of messy sheets and blankets, gasping as your body hit the mattress.
You gazed up at him in anticipation, as he held his infamous handcuffs in one hand.
"Do you still want me?" He asked in a husky voice.
"Yeah, of course I do-"
"Good," He interrupted you and smiled wickedly, "arms above your head."
You bit the side of your lip and grinned, doing as you were told.
He got on the bed and crawled over you, placing the handcuffs over your wrists, clicking them in place, making sure they were tight, then kissed your injured lips softly.
Eddie leaned back, spreading your legs open for him gently, his length still rock hard.
"You're cumming like this."
You shivered at his words, and he gripped your hips, yanking them up towards his cock, and pushed himself inside of you.
"Fuck, Eddie,"
"Jesus, you're still so fucking wet," he cursed.
He began to thrust into you again, at first slow, but quickly becoming desperate, pounding into you with a harsh and fast rhythm, gripping your hips tighter and tighter, surely leaving bruises.
You felt fire in your abdomen as he continued to fuck into you, him biting and kissing your knee sloppily as the new angle of his cock hit your sweet spot every time.
"Eddie, I don't think I can last long, fuck-"
"Me too, sweetheart," he groaned, putting a hand between the two of you, circling your clit with his thumb as he watched himself disappear inside of you, "cum with me."
You felt his cock grow even harder against your walls, making your eyes nearly roll in the back of your head, tears burning at the corners as you almost sobbed, crying out expletives as your orgasm took a hold of you, shockwaves gripping your body.
Eddie felt your walls clench around him, making him come undone as he emptied himself deep inside of you, biting your knee to hold back a loud moan as he followed closely after you.
Your highs came to a halt, as he gently lowered you back down, and collapsed on top of you.
You both panted heavily against each other, trying to catch your breath as he finally slid out of you. He held the sides of your face and kissed you desperately, then planted kisses all over your face, making you giggle.
"So, uh, that was..." Eddie trailed off.
"Amazing. It was amazing." You finished his sentence breathlessly.
"Yeah?" He lifted his head up and smiled at you.
"Yeah," you smiled back, "we should... do this again... soon."
"Yes, we should," he kissed your forehead, "we really should. Gotta take you on a proper date first."
He sat up from the bed, and you whined at the loss of his body heat.
"Well angel," he started, "we need to clean up all the blood and stuff, ya know, and fix our hands before Wayne gets home."
"Yeah, we do, but Eddie," you showed him your hands, "you gotta get me out of these cuffs first."
"Oh yeah, yeah, duh," he laughed, "the cuffs. Of course. Just need to... find the keys." He began to look around his room worriedly.
"God dammit, Eddie."
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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 9 months
Text
Ride the Lightning
Pairing: EddiexFemReader
Request: I've read a lot of eddie fics, but I've never read a "sit on my face" fic. If you could write something about that, that would be great.😅
18+ Only
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"Sit on my face."
"Wh...what?" you mumbled, struggling to focus, your mind in a post orgasm haze after Eddie had worked your pussy with his fingers like a goddamn maestro until you were seeing stars. Your muscles were still trembling, tiny ripples underneath your skin.
"You're my princess," he mused, lying back, that mane of hair covering the pillow. He ran the palm of his hand over is face. "And this is your throne. So be a good girl and sit on my face."
Was he serious? Of course he was. Eddie never said anything he didn't mean. You were a bit hesitant, wondering if you would smother him, but you trusted Eddie. He'd opened you up to a lot of new things when it came to sex and you had yet to be disappointed.
"I'm waiting, sweetheart," he sang, raising his head, eyebrows lifted. "Why isn't that beautiful pussy on my face yet?"
"Uh...okay..." you agreed, crawling up his body. You placed one knee on either side of his head, hands gripping the headboard in an attempt to keep yourself from covering his nose and mouth. You had no idea how to do this but you didn't want to kill him.
"Princess, if you're going to sit on my face, then fucking sit and ride it. None of this hanging in mid-air bullshit. I'm not gonna suffocate, I promise. And if I do, well going out with my face buried between these thighs sounds pretty damn perfect."
Fingers dug into your flesh, dragging your hips down so you were firmly on top of him. You tensed, wondering if he could breathe, but then his tongue was teasing your entrance, his nose running over your clit and you groaned, the sound deep and long, eyes fluttering shut.
Your fingers gripped the headboard for dear life as his tongue entered you. And his nose, fuck, that nose, it rolled over your clit again and again. Your hips rolled with it, seeking out what you needed and he rumbled, a sound of appreciation beneath you, that rumble rolling through your body, sending tremors of pleasure straight where you needed them.
"That's my girl. Ride my face, princess. Take what you need," he told you, nose still nuzzling against your sensitive bud. "Fucking smother me with this pussy. I can take it."
"Fuck..." you groaned, rocking your hips over him. Eddie had his tongue out and you rolled across it, from entrance to clit and back again. His nose and tongue, the combination of the two, were sending your pleasure center into overdrive.
You keened, back arching and felt Eddie groan, only spurring you on more. Your hips rotated, swirling his nose around your clit in circles. Following your lead, Eddie's tongue slid inside you again, fucking you long and slow. His hands gripped your ass, not controlling your movements, just moving with you.
"Eddie...fuck yes..." you gasped, your stomach coiling tightly as your body let you know you were close. You removed one hand from the headboard, tangling it in his hair, gripping hard, pulling it away from the scalp and he growled, fingertips digging into flesh so hard you knew you would have marks and that only made this that much fucking hotter.
Eddie loved to talk during sex. He loved to give commands, to give praise, to ask you how you felt. He couldn't do any of that with your pussy currently gagging him and it gave you a sense of control you'd never felt before. It was such a goddamn turn on. You were usually the quiet one, the one who flushed when he'd ask you to talk dirty. You never took control but right now, you were thinking you could get used to this.
"Shit, baby. I'm so close," you breathed, driving yourself against his face harder and faster, chasing the high you knew was just beyond your reach. His hands slid along your stomach, up to cup your breasts, taking a nipple in each one and teasing it, rolling it through his fingers and that was it. "Fuck!" You screamed, back arching, your body shook once, twice, three times as you rode the waves of release.
Whimpering softly, your body relaxed, feeling like one of those inflatable air dancers at the car dealerships after all the air is let out. Eddie nipped playfully at your thigh, eliciting a squeak from you as he slid his hands under you, helping you to lie down next to him.
"You did so good, beautiful girl," he praised, running the back of his hand along your cheek, his rings cool and pleasant on your fevered flesh. "It was so fucking hot watching you use me like your little toy. Did you love that? It definitely sounded like you did."
You nodded, struggling to find words. They were like dry sand, solid and there but unable to form into anything. If you tried, it all just sifted away back into a pile on the ground.
"Mmm...my princess looks spent," Eddie mused, his hands taking your arm, lips trailing over flesh, tongue swirling in the crook of your elbow, before teeth were nibbling at your collarbone. And already, your body was humming for him again even as your brain was telling you that you needed sleep. "But I think you've got more in you because, baby, I'm not done with you yet."
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I'll Be Gentle
Pairings: Eddie munson x fem!reader
Summary: Eddie takes your virginity
Warnings: oral (f receiving) fingering, teasing, unprotected sex!. 18+ MDNI, if you do, you will be blocked.
Note: never written smut before so, really sorry if this is bad.
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Eddie always wondered what you were thinking about when you he caught you staring at him at all the time.
Whether it was his ring-decorated hands, his face and hair, or his waist. He wanted to know why.
You weren't the type of person to throw yourself at him, you weren't even experienced at all, so you probably didnt even know if you were looking at him in desire or just admiration for the boy.
He noticed the sudden changes in your behavior, especially excuses to touch any part of his body.
He first noticed when what used to always be hugs from around the neck, to now be low on his waist.
Or when cheek kisses were replaced by his neck and collarbones.
Or when you'd make excuses to hold his hand and fiddle with the rings on his long, rough fingers.
He didn't complain nevertheless. He loved the affection, he was just confused as to where all this was coming from.
You weren't completely clueless when it came to sex, you knew how it worked and how to do everything, you just didn't know what it felt like to want someone, you haven't experienced what it feels like to be touched in such an intense and intimate way before, what it feels like to have someone thrusting deep inside you making you let out the most sinful sounds any human could hear. You didn't know.
Eddie was barely experienced, his hands did the job everytime, but he knew what to do, he knew how to make a girl scream, and he knew he was able to do it.
So when he noticed how you got nervous around him, he was curious. You weren't like that when you first started dating, and that was 8 months ago.
---
"Hello, darling" he opened the door to his trailer to find you standing in a hellfire shirt. As you were an honorary member. With a bag in your hand, full of everything you would need for the night.
Every Saturday was date night for you guys, were you would stay at his trailer for the night. So today was no different, Eddie rented you guys a VHS to watch tonight, he would order some pizza or something and you'd cuddle up in his bed and fall asleep together.
"Hey" you smiled at jumped into his arms, wrapping your arms around his waist, with his arms around your shoulders.
"Come in" he moved out of the way, letting you in.
---
You were both on the couch, you cuddled into Eddie's chest with his arm around around you. Although Eddie couldn't focus when you kept shifting in your spot. Moving closer to him even though you were as close you could get, but he noticed how your legs were tightly closed together, like you were trying to get some sort of...friction. he tested his theory and placed a hand on your thigh, seeing you squirm in your place.
He smirked as he figured it out.
"You ok, sweetheart?" He asked innocently
"Mhm" you hummed in response
"You sure? You've seemed to be a bit...on edge lately" he said, caressing your arm in a manner that made your insides twirl.
"I'm fine" you shuddered
"I know you want something, sweetheart, maybe even need something. Dont be afraid to ask" Eddie whispered in your ear
"It feels funny" you dug your head into his neck and squeezing onto him
"What feels funny, darling?" He questioned
"Down there" you said reluctantly
"Your tummy?" He guessed, he knew what felt funny, he just wanted to hear you say it.
"No, my- my, just forget it, it doesnt matter" you whined.
"This area?" Eddie quizzed as he moved his hand dangerously close to your clothed heat.
"Higher" you murmered
"Here?" He moved a finger to brush the fabric covering your sensitive area
"Yeah" you nodded vigorously
"Well what are we going to do about that, sweetheart?" He raised an eyebrow
"I dont know" you threw your head back.
"C'mere" he brought you up to straddle his lap, placing a hand on both of your thighs.
"Want me to show you how to fix that, Baby?"
"How" you spoke softly, moving your head to the crook of his neck
"Want me to show you?" He asked
"Yes please" you sighed
He picked you up and moved to the bedroom, where he placed you down and crawled on top of you.
"Do you trust me?" He looked at you seriously
"Yeah" you smiled softly
Eddie dipped down to attack your neck with the hottest and sloppy kisses. One hand on the side of your head, holding him up and the other gripping on your waist, with the occasional light squeeze.
The soft noises coming from your pretty mouth echoed in his ears.
He moved down to suck on the skin of your cleavage. He pulled the hem of your shirt and waiting for your permission, which you gave him. Eddie swiftly removed the shirt that was covering your top-half. He had never seen you without a shirt on, not even in a bathing suit so he stopped for a minute just to admire your sweet body.
"Eddieee" you whined
Eddie smashed his lips on yours, sticking his tongue down your throat. You had made out before, but it was different now, if was hot and heavy and full of a completely different emotion and feeling.
You let out an airy moan, making the sounds vibrate against his mouth, sending shivers down his body. He had waited so long for this.
He unclassped your bra with barely any struggle and tossed it to the other side of him room. He let go of your lips and looked at your bare chest. His eyes fixated on them before going to attack one of them, leaving the other to be massaged by his hand, his tongue swirling around the nipple of your plump breasts, making you arch you back in inevitable pleasure.
You're body was so sensitive to every touch he placed on you, making it so easy to leave you in a mess.
He crawled down the kiss lower down your abdomen, giving every inch of your body something to moan about.
He unbuttoned your pants before sliding them down in a painfully slow pace, just to see how you bucked you hips. He placed delicate kisses on the inside of your thighs, the only thing that's keeping his from you in the silk panties hanging low on your hips.
He looked up at you and raised an eyebrow, to ask for permission
"Eddie please" you begged
His fingers curl around the fabric and pulled them down, keeping eye contact with you that made you shiver.
"If you don't feel comfortable with anything just tell me, ok? And I'll stop, no questions asked, ok?" He spoke softly in desire
"Ok, I will" you nodded you head.
Your legs were still pressed together tightly, so he spread them to her access to your aching core.
He slid a finger up and down your slick folds, sending automatic pleasure to your body.
"God your already so wet for me" he groaned at the feeling.
Eddie collected some of the juices and rubbed it on his fingers, looking at it with lust. It was all for him.
He dug his head closer to heat and stuck his tongue in slightly. Making you jump and yell out in surprise
"God, Eddie"
"Stay still for me, sweetheart" Eddie demanded, holding you by the thighs.
He attached his tongue to your throbbing pussy and tasted the sweet liquid you produced.
"You taste so god damn good, darling" he groaned against you.
The sinful noises of his tongue slurping you and your moans filled the room.
He stuck a finger in your core and started pumping in and out of you.
"You're so good, Eddie" you gripped his hair and pushed his face in more, making his nose hit the bud of your wet pussy.
You let out a high pitched scream when he curled his fingers inside you.
You had no idea it would feel so good to have him eat you out like this, you had pictured it, even had a dream about it once, but it didn't compare to the way he was making you feel right now. It was heavenly.
He stuck another 2 fingers in your tight pussy, slightly stretching the skin of your entrance, making you hiss in a hint of pain, Eddie knew he didnt really hurt you, it was normal, you hadn't been stretched out down there, but he was going to make sure you were.
"Ed-Eddie?" You stuttered, trying to contain your moans, although you could be as loud as you want seen as though Wayne was out working at the plant.
"Yes, darling" he said against you
"My tummy feels funny" you admitted
With one last lick through your folds and in your entrance, he pulls away
"Wait- why did you pull away! Was that bad, I'm sorry" you cried out in frustration.
"No, that wasn't bad, sweetheart, I was just getting you ready" he grinned sadistically
"Ready? Ready for what?" You whined, any bit of pleasure washed away from the loss of contact.
He didnt give you an answer. He just took off his shirt and pulled his pants down. Leaving him in nothing but his boxers as he crawled back onto of you, wrapping his arm to your back to press your naked body against his as he moved to adorn your neck with more marks.
"Eddie, I'm begging you, please do something" you moaned.
"Well, since you said please, how could I not" he laughed
He pushed his boxers of and wrapped your legs around his waist, giving him a good angle to slide right into you.
"I'll be gentle, alright princess" he said, placing a sweet kiss on your lips before pushing into you.
Eddie knew he wasn't small, he was a pretty big guy to say the least, so when you screamed out in pain from just half of his thick cock, he got worried. How were you going to take all of him?
"Its ok, I got you. Remember what I told you?" He spoke gently
"If I get uncomfortable just tell you" you whimpered
"That's right, princess" he nodded his head, pressing his forehead against your own, giving you a light kiss.
Eddie slowly moves himself deeper in your pussy.
"God, how are you so damn tight?" he groaned and your walls basically squeezed him.
"Ready?"
"Mhm" you hummed
Eddie slowly pushed in and out of you, still cautious if your in pain, but seeing your eyes rolled back and your mouth wide open. He had no choice but to go faster.
"You feel so good, princess" he groaned
"You're so big" you whispered
"Trust me, I know, baby" Eddie chuckled
Eddie hit a spot that sent you over the edge with pleasure.
"FUCK EDDIE" you screamed out while letting out the most sinful moan he'd ever heard.
"That's right, sweetheart. I'm the only guy who can make you scream like that" he smirked leaning down to your ear
"Do it again, baby, scream my name again" he whispered.
"I- you- so- good" you stammered
Eddie slammed back into you, hitting the spot again making you scream his name louder this time
"Feel- you feel so fucking good" he groaned
"Is this what you wanted all this time? All the touching and staring at me, hm? Is this what you were thinking about? How I could make you scream and moan with nothing but my tongue, fingers and cock? Is this what you wanted?" Eddie questioned
"Mhm" you purred
"Words" he demanded
"Yes, Eddie" you cried
"How do I feel, baby? Do I make you feel good?" He asked
"So good, you make me feel so good, you feel so- FUCK!" you yelled out
"You could've just asked for it"
-
Eddie moved your hips along with his, making the skin clap against each other, adding more friction to his fast and deep thrusts
"Eddie" you muttered
"Yes, princess"
"That feeling in my tummy is back again" you said, leaning your head back
"You've never had an orgasm before, have you princess?" He chuckled
"No" you shook your head
"When that feeling gets too much to handle, I want you to just let go, ok, kind of like push it out for me, ok?" he told you
"Yeah, I- i can do that"
Your mouth opened widely again. So Eddie took the chance to smash his lips in yours while keeping up the pace of his thrusting. Your hands finding their way to Eddie back and scratching him
You stuck your tongue in his mouth, searching around making him groan. You detached your lips from his and leaned up to adorn his neck with the marks he gave you.
Eddie held the back of your head and pushed you head deeper in his neck. The only thing keeping him from falling down on you was his unsteady hand on the headboard.
Eddie threw his head back and felt the knot in his stomach start to form, so his pace quickened inside you, he was going to make sure you came before him, in his eyes your pleasure came before his own.
"Eddie- I- EDDIE" you screamed, your voice cracking from going to high as you couldn't hold the feeling in anymore.
You released all your juices on Eddie's dick as he slowed his pace, not trying to overstimulate you.
"That's it, God, just like that, sweetheart" he rolled his eyes back and pulled out, spilling all his cum on your stomach and panting heavily.
Eddie dropped beside you sighed
"You did amazing, princess" he brushed the hair that was stuck to your head from sweat behind your ear.
"Thank you, Eddie" you said quietly, moving closer to his warm, sweaty body.
"There's no need to thank me, darling" he laughed
"I know, I just wanted to say it, for everything" you yawned.
"How 'bout I start the shower, we get you all cleaned up and then go to bed, how does that sound?" He suggested
"Sounds great" you smiled
"M'kay" he said before pressing a kiss on your head.
---------------------------------------------------
I dont know how I feel about this. But uh, hope you enjoyed that you filthy people.
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xgumiho · 6 months
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Eddie the Banished, on a voyage driven by love and vengeance, yearns for the siren lover he was forced to part from. A reunion beckons, but not before his beating heart is retrieved from the Flying Dutchman so he can offer it to Steve upon his return 🏴‍☠️
© xgumiho | do not repost/steal/edit/crop
Some lore behind the art and this ship (pun intended)! 👇
This AU of pirate Eddie the Banished and eldritch siren Steve is very VERY loosely based on Pirates of the Caribbean / Flying Dutchman / Dead Man’s Chest. I know this system and curse work differently in the movies and sirens work differently and I’m no writer so bear with me pls. One thing I CAN do is write in key points so uh.. here we go?
Eddie the Banished is the captain of the Flying Dutchman. His beating heart is locked up on the ship, in the Dead Man’s Chest.
He leaves the ship for one day every 10 years, and that’s exactly what he’s doing right now—just sitting on the beach and letting the sand run through his fingers when he hears the most beautiful voice coming from a nearby swamp.
In this AU, sirens enchant the hearts of their prey and then feed on them. Be that as it may, Eddie has no heart, so the siren song doesn’t bewitch him in the same way it would others.
Still curious, he goes to investigate. This is how he meets Steve, who, befittingly, is stunned by the fact that his song didn’t work—at least not the way he intended.
Nonetheless, it’s love at first sight on both ends, and after one night together, they promise eternity to each other.
However, Eddie feels like something is missing, like he has so much more love to give to Steve but is unable to with his heart locked away from him.
Eddie is to return to the ship by sunrise, or he will not be able to stay alive for much longer and will wither away slowly with his heart so far away from him.
Eddie gives Steve his dagger and promises to come up with a plan and to return in 10 years' time—for forever this time, with his beating heart in his hands as his ultimate sign of devotion and trust.
Eddie knows he will have to betray his ghostly crew and face their monstrous fury as he tries to retrieve the chest with his heart and find another captain for the ship.
It takes him 10 long, weary, vengeful yet hopeful years of exploits and battles to finally be able to set sail across the seven seas to find his lover once again.
But will he be able to find Steve where they had parted? Or has Steve, driven by excruciating longing, started looking for Eddie’s ghostly ship by himself?
Will the crew of the Flying Dutchman find a new captain, or will they face the wrath of the siren's true, ancient eldritch form?
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ars-de-elysium · 2 years
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No thoughts just little Bat Eddie. Nancy probably stole some little clothes from Holly’s doll collection for him, and somehow Dustin understands all his little bat squeaks…🦇
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shurislostwifey · 2 years
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Steve questioning his sexuality pt 2
The TENSION is real
Eddie just had to give killer eye contact and address him by his first name
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