🔥Flame On, Flayer🔥

Call me Red! 30s. Writer. Nerd. Ginger. Wanna be friends?

[corroded-hellfire]

I’m Red! Just your typical ginger, tortured artist, cat mom, fangirl.

Always open to requests and I especially love ones about my series ❣️

18+ MDNI

Eddie Munson masterlist

Steve Harrington masterlist

Eric (A Quiet Place: Day One) masterlist

Corroded Coffin Fest Event masterlist

This Is Music Valentine’s Day Writing Event masterlist

Collaborations

Want to be added to a tag list?

Buy me a coffee, if you’d like 💕

[corroded-hellfire]

i’m gonna ask him if u can pull his man

im not going anymore

[corroded-hellfire]

it's thundering so i can't get onions from the store so you'll just have to visit another time and i'll make french onion mac and cheese sorry

go to sleep

[corroded-hellfire]

do u think when lewis pullman spits he says he has to hock a lewgie

im going home

[corroded-hellfire]

get out of my swamp

[corroded-hellfire]

@munson-blurbs is so fun and smart and deserves to be married to Ben Grimm (specifically in rock form).

Haters are free to argue (and be wrong).

[corroded-hellfire]

In other news, guess who hijacked my laptop

[munson-blurbs]

nvm you're a hater

[corroded-hellfire]

U suck

[corroded-hellfire]

@munson-blurbs is so fun and smart and deserves to be married to Ben Grimm (specifically in rock form).

Haters are free to argue (and be wrong).

[munson-blurbs]

This is so sweet and genuine. So lucky to have a best friend like you. I cannot wait to return the favor when we meet your pookie.

[corroded-hellfire]

[corroded-hellfire]

@munson-blurbs is so fun and smart and deserves to be married to Ben Grimm (specifically in rock form).

Haters are free to argue (and be wrong).

[corroded-hellfire]

In other news, guess who hijacked my laptop

[corroded-hellfire]

@munson-blurbs is so fun and smart and deserves to be married to Ben Grimm (specifically in rock form).

Haters are free to argue (and be wrong).

[munson-blurbs]

Richie Jerimovich x Female!Reader

Summary: A situationship with Richie, an empty restaurant: it was the perfect recipe for a sexy rendezvous. Until his phone rang.

WC: 1.5k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (m receiving, implied f receiving), mention of dry humping, semi-public sexual acts, some canon lore but no spoilers, established situationship, implied age gap (Richie is in his early 40s, Reader is in her 20s or 30s), not proofread

A/N: I write for Richie now. I'm truly feral for this man. Like, y'all don't want to know the unhinged things I've said about him. Anyway, I now take requests for Richie Jerimovich. And if you haven't watched The Bear, you need to. Immediately.

Divider credit to @saradika-graphics

The Bear at the end of the night was alarmingly quiet. Dinner service was chaotic on the best nights; on the worst nights, it was downright overwhelming. 

But once the doors were closed to the public, and the only sounds were the refrigerator humming and the broom bristles brushing against the floor as you swept up. 

“Hey.”

You almost dropped the broom when the gravel of Richie’s voice cut through the silence. He leaned one forearm against the doorframe to the kitchen. 

“H-Hey,” you echoed, wincing at your obvious nervousness. “I didn’t know you were closing with me tonight.”

Richie’s blue eyes roved over your figure, wild with mischief. “Yeah, well,” he scratched at his beard, “I told Fak I’d swap closing shifts with him so he and Carm can watch the Sox game together.”

“That’s very selfless of you.” Your heart hammered in your chest. His words said one thing—this was a favor for Fak. But his smirk told you that this act was far from selfless. 

He nodded. “You wanna help me with something in the walk-in? Could use a pair of young eyes double checking my count.”

“Sure. Yeah.” You bit your lip, placing the broom back in the corner as you trailed after him.

Whatever had been going on with you and Richie happened outside of work. Maybe not too far outside of work; there’d been quite a few makeout sessions in your car whenever Richie insisted on walking you down the block after work. For safety, he’d always insist.

Richie stopped you before you could come inside, closing the door and then opening it again to let you in.

“Thing’s fickle,” he offered sheepishly. “Didn’t want us both getting locked in here and then having to explain…”

“Mhm.” You draped your arms over his shoulders and kissed him, melting into his familiar scent of tobacco and black coffee.

Richie swore against your mouth, his fingers hurriedly untucking your blouse from your pants and sliding beneath it. His calluses danced along your skin, leaving invisible trails of desire in their wake.

“Fuckin’...” Richie mumbled, cutting himself off with another kiss, “couldn’t stop checkin’ you out all day today. Kept thinkin’ about the last time we were alone. When we were in your backseat.”

Your whole body heated at the memory: you straddling his lap, dry-humping like two teenagers, not even stopping when Richie came in his suit pants.

You’d thought about that night, too. Touched yourself to the mental image of Richie whimpering as warmth seeped through the inside of his briefs and dampened your own panties.

Watching him come undone, your full focus on him, was one of the hottest moments of your life.

In the present, you unbuckled Richie’s belt, savoring the cool metal against your warm skin. You nipped at his bottom lip, swallowing the hitch of his breath when you slid your hand down his pants and over his cotton underwear.

His cock immediately stiffened at your touch, his hips thrusting instinctively into your palm. You could stay like this, maybe jerk him off while you kissed–

RIIIIIING! RIIIIIING!  

Richie yanked his phone from his pants pocket, rolling his eyes when he saw the caller ID. “Fuckin’ Carmy,” he grumbled, rejecting the call and tossing the phone onto the nearest shelf.

His tongue slipped into your mouth. You couldn’t help yourself; you moaned at the kiss, and Richie’s triumphant laughter vibrated throughout his body.

You stroked him again, putting an end to his victory and keeping him right in you–

RIIIIIING! RIIIIIING!  

“Don’t answer it,” you pleaded.

“He’ll just keep calling.”

“Then put it on silent.”

Richie shook his head. “Then he’ll come down here.”

He was right, but your stomach still sank when Richie swiped to answer the call.

“What?” He hissed, already regretting his decision to pick up.

And you were not above rubbing salt in that wound.

His eyes widened when you got on your knees in front of him, tugging his pants down to expose the erection straining against his briefs.

What are you doing? He mouthed, but you just kissed his thighs wordlessly.

“Yo, Cuz!” Carmy’s voice thundered through the phone. “Remember when we went to the Sox game with Mikey?”

“And me!” Fak screeched in the background. “I was there, too!”

“And Fak,” Carmy acquiesced. “Anyway, do you remember–”

“Uh-huh. I remember–shit!” Richie drew in a shallow breath when you dragged your lips over his still-clothed cock. “Good time. Fun time.”

Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his briefs, you drew them down his thighs as quietly as you could. You pressed a chaste kiss to his shaft before showing him an iota of mercy, swirling your tongue around the tip.

“Do you remember what Fak put on his hot dog?”

Richie rubbed a trembling hand over his eyes, and you took the opportunity to lick up the base of his cock. “Fuck–what? Cousin, what–are you calling me to ask me about Fak’s hot dog?!”

“Is my hot dog bothering you, RIchie?” Fak crooned. “Do you not want to discuss my wiener?”

You took Richie deeper into your mouth, partially to torture him further and partially to stifle your giggles. 

“Shut the fuck up, Fak!” Carmy’s threat was muffled by Fak cackling. “Cousin, listen. Do you remember Fak putting ketchup on his hot dog?”

Richie bit his inner cheek when you wrapped your hand around the part of his cock that didn’t fit in your mouth. “Uh, yeah. Ketchup. Yeah.” His fingers ground into your shoulder, squeezing it when you lapped up his pre-cum.

“I told you!” Carmy shouted. Richie pulled the phone away from his ear and winced. “I fuckin’ told you, Fak!”

“What? Gimme that–Richie,” Fak spoke directly into the phone now; he must have wrestled it away from Carmy. “I did not put ketchup on my hot dog! I put mustard on it!”

You hollowed out your cheeks, sucking and moving in tandem with each buck of his hips. With your free hand, you cupped his balls, massaging them and coaxing a soft whine from his mouth.

“I know you put ketchup on it, you fuckin’ freak,” Carmy countered, “because when Mikey saw you, he wouldn’t let you order a beer. He made you get a Shirley Temple, because you’re a goddamn child!”

“Maybe I just like Shirley Temples!”

“Oh, you do? You like them enough to order one at the Sox game? Really?”

“Really! They’re fruity and refreshing, and they come with the cherry–”

You gazed up at Richie, meeting his eyes as you moved faster, fingernails biting into his bare thighs. Your nose brushed his thatch of pubic hair, and you breathed in the musty scent like it was a lifeline.

“Holy sh-shit, ahhh, fuck.” Richie groaned, temporarily forgetting the two idiots on the other end of the line. 

A beat, then: “Cousin? You good?”

Richie choked on a reply, squeezing your shoulder again. You could lay off for a second, give him a chance to think…but what fun would that be?

Instead, you took him as deep as you could, gagging on his cock until tears blurred your vision.

“Just, uh, tweaked my back,” he lied as smoothly as he could.

“You need me to come down?” You heard rustling; Carmy was all ready to high-tail it to the restaurant. 

Fak didn’t wait for a response before declaring, “You’re going? Then I’m coming, too,” 

“No!” Richie yelled. “I mean, no thanks. I’m good. No one needs to come. Come here. No one needs to come here.”

“Alright.” Carmy sounded unconvinced. “Make sure to rest it. I think Sugar knows a good chiropractor–”

“Yup, got it! Thanks, bye!” No sooner did Richie end the call, he was spilling onto your tongue with a cry of your name.

You swallowed every last drop of his cum, grinning proudly as he hoisted you to your feet and into a long kiss. His hands framed your face, like he couldn’t get close enough.

“You little devil,” he said once he finally pulled away. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

“I can’t believe you still came after talking about Fak’s wiener.”

Richie laughed breathlessly, wiping beneath your eye where your mascara was most definitely smudged. “You wanna know something funny? It wasn’t Fak who put ketchup on his hot dog; it was Pete.”

“Are you serious?” You clapped a hand over your mouth. Carmy was probably still gloating over his win while Fak was insisting it wasn’t him. Poor guy.

Richie nodded. “Yup. Sugar was there.” He held out his phone. “Call her and ask her.”

“I believe you–”

“Call. Her.” Richie smirked, undoing your pants as he sank onto his knees. He kissed the apex of your thighs, chuckling when you shivered. “It’ll be entertaining for both of us.”

--

[corroded-hellfire]

RICHIE MANIA!!!!

I’m obsessed with this. Love that Carmy and Fak have no idea what’s happening, everything is just always so chaotic and crazy there.

Wouldn’t be opposed to reading about that phone call to Sugar 👀

[clytemnestraaa]

always such a struggle when you get to the sex scene part of the fic you're writing and you're not horny at all. i don't know. their things were touching. without ANY underwear. the end.

[munson-blurbs]

Summary: After being a goody-two-shoes bookworm throughout high school, you became a goody-two-shoes librarian at the Hawkins Library. Enter Eddie Munson, who knows that rules are meant to be broken.

WC: 2.1k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), unprotected p in v, semi-public sex, corruption kink, fingering, brief choking (kinda), mutual masturbation, Eddie and Reader are in their early 20s

Divider credit to @saradika-graphics

The stars twinkled in the night sky as you flipped the Hawkins Library’s sign from ‘open’ to ‘closed.’ 

Summer evenings at the library lacked the busyness of the school year. There were no students cramming for exams or checking out books for reports they’d procrastinated until the last minute. There were no disappointed faces when you’d tell them that all ten copies of The Great Gatsby had been checked out. 

It was just you, the chirping crickets, and the D&D game still going on down the hall. 

Shit. 

You’d put it off long enough. The D&D club wasn’t a bad group of kids; they always cleaned up after themselves, though you did have to remind them to lower their voices every now and then. The games apparently got…intense, and this was a library, after all. 

No, the problem wasn’t the kids, or the game, or the fact that the club’s logo nearly sent your small town into full-blown Satanic Panic. 

The problem was their fearless leader, Eddie Munson. 

Your first rap on the door went unnoticed, caught up in the din of their game. Your second knock fared better. 

“Aw, shit. What time is it?” A familiar voice lamented. You placed him after a second: Dustin Henderson. The kid had an overdue list a mile long. 

“Time to admit defeat!” Eddie’s growl sent a horde of butterflies surging through your stomach. “A truly pathetic showing tonight, boys.”

“Hey!”

“And Lady Applejack,” he amended before quickly slipping back into his dramatic persona. “Now, leave my sight! Your presence disgusts Eddie the Banished.”

The rest of the group trudged out of the room, but not before a shaggy-haired boy flipped Eddie the bird. 

“No manners, these kids. I’m tellin’ ya.” Eddie shook his head. He grabbed an empty soda can and chucked it at the nearest trashbin, missing by a longshot. 

“Shit,” he muttered, the tips of his ears turning pink as he scooped it up and tossed it away with purpose. “I was never much of a jock,” he joked lamely. 

You gripped the table, fending off the urge to kiss his embarrassed smile. 

“I know,” you blurted out, feeling your own face grow warm. “I mean, I remember in high school, you were more of a…”

“Freak?” Eddie supplied, his grin growing more confident. 

You laughed. “I was gonna say ‘rebel.’”

“Same thing.” He shrugged. “Better to be a rebel than goody-two-shoes, y’know?”

You didn’t know. You were a rule-follower; someone who craved order and structure. 

Eddie sensed your hesitation. “You’re a rebel, too.” He chuckled when your brows shot up, his declaration catching you off-guard. “Look: the library closes at nine, but it’s currently…” he checked his watch. “…nine-oh-six, and you haven’t kicked me out.”

You could kick him out. If he was anyone else, you would’ve reminded him that the library was closed and opened tomorrow at eight a.m. 

But he was Eddie Munson, the guy you’d harbored a crush on since middle school—buzzcut and all. 

He hoisted himself onto the plastic tabletop, plopping down with an exaggerated thud. 

“So, besides my athletic talent, what else do you remember about me?”

The way your patches were crookedly sewed onto your denim jacket. The way you cut class to hole up in the band room and practice guitar. The way you smelled of cigarettes and Old Spice. The way you climbed on top of cafeteria tables and made grandiose speeches, usually tearing into Jason Carver or Billy Hargrove in the process. 

“Not much.” The lie came out in a higher register, instantly giving you away. 

Eddie swung his legs back and forth. “Well, I remember you. And if I’m remembering correctly, you actually were quite the rebel yourself.”

“Me?”

He nodded emphatically. “Oh, yeah. Always reading, even when the teacher was talking. You got after-school detention for reading To Kill a Mockingbird in chem class.”

You balked at the memory. “That was not rebellion. That was just me being a bookworm.”

“I dunno.” There was a teasing lilt in Eddie’s voice that matched his smirk. “I think you’re more rebellious than you realize, Bookworm.”

His words haunted you until he showed up at the library a few nights later. It was two minutes to closing, and the place was a dead zone. 

Eddie’s Reeboks scraped against the carpet, his thumbnail tucked between his teeth as he chewed nervously. 

“H-Hey.” He twisted a skull ring around his middle finger. “You weren’t…upset the other night, right? When I was teasing…um, joking about you being a rebel?”

You shook your head. Shocked would have been a better descriptor than upset. 

Eddie blew out a sigh of relief. “Good. Yeah.” He raked his fingers through his curls. “Because I wasn’t making fun of you or anything. I…I thought it was pretty badass, actually. Like when we had to go to those stupid mandatory pep rallies and you’d just read the whole time.”

“I thought you were pretty badass, too,” you said softly. “I wish I had the guts to stand on top of the lunchtables and tell off Jason Carver like you did.”

Eddie’s face lit up, his usual confidence beginning to emerge. “Well, I wish I could’ve corrected Mrs. O’Donnell in front of the whole class like you did,” he countered. “I’d never seen her speechless before that day.”

You bit your lip, quelling your anxiety and working up the nerve to speak again. “I wish I’d talked to you back in high school.”

“I wish I’d kissed you back in high school.” Eddie took a step forward so that his body pressed against the desk. One hand gently cupped your cheek, and when you didn’t pull back, he drew closer. “I wish I told you I saw you reading The Grapes of Wrath so I tried reading it.”

“What did you think?”

He grinned against your lips. “I fuckin’ hated it.”

Before you could inquire further, Eddie pressed his mouth to yours, sealing his opinion with a kiss. You didn’t hesitate, kissing him back like his lips were a lifeline.

His tongue brushed yours and you let him in, savoring the taste of cigarettes and spearmint gum. You pressed your thighs together, grateful that he couldn’t see from the other side of the checkout desk.

When Eddie finally pulled away, there was no hiding the flush of his cheeks and his swollen lips. “I can leave now, or…”

He left it open-ended, waiting for you to fill in that blank. He should leave; the library was closed and it was time for you to go home. 

But…

“Stay.”

Eddie leapt over the desk as soon as the word left your mouth. His hands found your waist, backing you into the cart of books that needed to be reshelved.

His hardness strained against his fly and pressed into your thigh. Without thinking, you rolled your hips into him.

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie moaned, tightening his grip. “Knew you weren’t all innocent.”

“Maybe you’re just a bad influence.” Your fingers tugged at his shirt. “Coming into my library and corrupting me.”

Eddie chuckled darkly, his dark curls tickling your cheeks as he shook his head. “This isn’t corruption, sweetheart. You haven’t even seen corruption yet.”

“Show me?”

Eddie groaned at your request. One hand slipped under your linen skirt and squeezed your ass. “Show you, huh?”

You nodded, trying to fend off the heat in your cheeks and between your legs.

His nose brushed your ear. “Bend over this desk,” he whispered, “but stay quiet. Can’t be loud in the library, right?”

The moment your forearms rested atop the counter, his middle finger traced the dampness in your panties. 

“Fuck, yeah.” He circled your clit over the fabric, already sensitive from just the thought of his touch. “Have you been wet this whole time?”

“Mm…mhm.” You clenched around nothing, desperate for him to fill you. Every time you’d fantasized about this, you were in a bed or somewhere private. The public library was not on your list of imagined sex locations. 

But you couldn’t deny the thrill. The front door was still unlocked and the lights were still on; anyone could ignore the posted hours and walk right in to see Eddie currently shoving your panties aside and fucking you with his fingers.

“Oh…oh my god,” you whimpered. “Keep going. Please, keep going. Just like that.”

“I got you.” Eddie kissed the side of your neck, sucking at the supple skin. “Gonna let me leave a mark, Bookworm?”

You’d let him do whatever he wanted, no questions necessary. He was waiting for an answer, so you nodded–the only movement you could manage with two of his fingers buried inside you.

His teeth nipped where he’d just kissed, hard enough that a bruise would surely form by tomorrow morning. You’d have to cover it with makeup.

Or you could leave it. Show it off. Prove to everyone you saw that Eddie Munson had claimed you, even if for just one night.

“Eddie…Eddie!” You came around his fingers, rocking back into them. Eddie slowed his pace but stayed inside you, gently bringing you down from the high.

More. You needed more.

“Okay, okay!” Eddie laughed. 

Shit, did you say that aloud?

It didn’t matter; Eddie licked his fingers clean with a delighted sigh. 

“Turn around for a sec, little rebel.”

You nearly gasped. He unbuttoned his jeans and lowered the zipper, his cock straining to be free. There was no denying that he was rock-hard.

He stroked himself beneath his boxers. “Almost came when you did,” he admitted. “Almost…fuck…almost blew my load in my pants.”

The thought of him coming without even being touched was strangely hot. Something you definitely wanted to explore when you had more time.

“That turn you on, little rebel?” Eddie grinned, expertly reading the subtle diversion of your gaze. “Guess what? Me, too.”

He spun you back around and tapped the tip of his cock on your bare ass. You whined, aching for him, and he knew it.

“Patience,” he murmured. “Just gotta…there we go.”

He anchored himself inside you, pushing in until he bottomed out. His movements were torturously slow; he was too hard and you were too wet to do anything but fuck, yet he thrusted with care and precision.

“Eddie. Faster.”

His grip on your hips tightened, but he didn’t budge. “Beg for it,” he demanded. “Beg for me to fuck you against this desk like the bad fuckin’ girl you are.”

“Please, Eddie,” you tried again. “Please fuck me against the desk. I need to be fucked r-right now.”

“Mhm.” Eddie moved faster, but not fast enough. You reached around for his thigh to move him yourself, but he growled and swatted your hand away. “Now tell me who made you this bad. Who corrupted you.”

“Y-You did. You corrupted me, Eddie.”

With a string of curses, Eddie drove himself into you, unable to hold back as he pistoned his hips. 

“Thas’right,” he slurred. “I corrupted you.”

“You corrupted me,” you echoed pathetically. Every thought you had was focused on him, his cock, and how amazing he felt inside you. “Only…only bad for you.”

The two of you worked in tandem, finding the spots that made you moan while he grew impossibly harder within you. Every drag of his cock unleashed another wave of pleasure, and he chased after it reflexively.

“My pretty little rebel. Gonna make a mess of you, ‘kay?” When you nodded, he wrapped one hand around your throat and drew you back. “Need to hear you say it.”

Your brain scrambled for words until you finally found one: “O-Okay.”

You could practically hear his grin. “Touch yourself while I make a mess of you, little rebel.” He let go of your throat but stayed inside you until he saw you rubbing your clit with a trembling finger.

The soft schlick of his hand stroking his erection distracted you from the emptiness. You rubbed faster, failing to swallow the moans that echoed throughout the library.

“Gonna…gonna…oh, shit. Oh, yes!” Eddie painted your ass with warm cum, pushing his tip into your soft flesh. “Jesus H. Christ. That was…holy shit, that’s a lot of cum.”

Between heaving breaths, you laughed. Eddie Munson had just fucked you in the library–at your job–and finished on your ass, and now he was bewildered by the amount of cum?

He reached for the tissue box, ready to clean you off. And maybe it was the bravery of someone who just fulfilled a fantasy, or maybe it was just sex-induced foolishness, but you grabbed hold of one last piece of rebellion.

“Leave it.” You adjusted your panties and skirt, letting them cling to the large wads of his spend. It would certainly stain, but you didn’t care. 

You wanted a reminder of the night that Eddie Munson utterly ruined you for anyone else.

--

[corroded-hellfire]

Bug, you continue to write the absolute hottest things I’ve ever read. Please never stop.

[corroded-hellfire]

See? I'm working on it, I promise 😝

[spider-mann]

JOSEPH QUINN as JOHNNY STORM The Fantastic Four: First Steps (2025) Dir. Matt Shakman

[corroded-hellfire]

Hi! I had to ask, in your story on Inkitt did you rename the boys Eric and Johnny because those are names of other characters joe has played?

I did lol. I didn't keep the names Ryan and Luke because they are their own characters who live in the AYW world.

I changed everyone's names while adapting the fic to an original work. It's basically the same story (some things require changing when switching the world it's in), but I wanted the characters to feel separate from the AYW ones. Especially since I had to turn "reader" into an actual, fleshed-out character instead of trying to keep characteristics hidden to not exclude any insert readers of AYW lol

ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING MY STORY ON INKITT, YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THAT MEANS TO ME 💜

[wistericals]

x reader fanfic writers please just know that i love you thanks and good night

[smellsliketeenangst]

New Joe photos means a new Rockstar!Eddie edit 😍