Picture commissioned from lovely @furrysphinxthrone
Eddie Munson x Reader • 80s Zombie Apocalypse AU
based on this request/idea
WC: 2700
Warnings: some gore and violence obviously, but it’s also funny, think classic zombie slasher, eventual smut, MDNI
You thought getting called into work hungover after a second-year high school reunion was a bad day.
Try surviving a local zombie outbreak with Eddie Munson and his crew.
The phone rang many times before you picked up, whoever it was, they were insistent.
“Hello,” you said in the voice you normally use for ‘fuck’.
“Sorry to bother you so early darling…”
Not him again. Your boss. The clock was showing 11:15, the button broke in winter, so after daylight savings it was really 10:15.
“I’m fine.” You looked at the bucket by the bed, empty.
“So there’s a basketball game at Hawkins High tonight, a short drive from me, everyone hungry for hotdogs, good cash…”
The voice on the other side was almost apologetic.
“Why are you calling me now for the 6pm event?” The blood was pounding in your temples, you carefully sat up in the bed, and looked around — at least this is my house. Good.
“I might have eaten most of the stuff from the truck. You will need to restock. Get breakfast on me. Or lunch. Or a hotdog.” He laughed at his own joke. Son of a bitch.
“I’ll get ready and come by. As quick as I can.” That probably meant a few hours, taking last night’s second year high school reunion into account.
You peeked through the blinds at the sunny day outside, squinted, swallowed a pill and went to shower.
6pm In the neighboring town of Hawkins:
Eddie bent over the campaign notes — the map of the dungeon, the encounter tables, dialogue notes. The Hellfire Club was going to walk into the Lair of the Crimson Lich and they were going to suffer, cry and beg and Eddie was going to enjoy every second of it.
He was waiting for the party, reading through the notes again, chewing on the rubber of the pencil, when the door of the drama room slammed open so hard that the window rattled.
Erica Sinclair stood in the doorway, chest heaving, looking like she’d run the entire length of Hawkins without stopping.
Eddie lowered his notes slowly.
“I saw a boy,” she gasped, “eating a girl.”
Eddie stared at her.
She stared back.
He sat up, set his notes aside, and folded his hands on the table preparing to give a sex ed lecture.
“Erica,” he said, in his most patient voice. “What you witnessed is actually a completely natural, if deeply personal—”
“Shut the dumpster.” She looked like she wanted to throw up. “Not like that, you absolute creep, he was eating her brain—”
“Wha—”
“Her actual brain, Eddie—”
“Okay, I hear you—”
“There was so much blood—”
“ERICA.” He was on his feet now. “I hear you. Okay? I hear you.” He crossed to the window and looked out, half expecting to see nothing, half expecting her to be pranking him, because she was absolutely capable of it and he wouldn’t put it past her.
Eddie saw Jason Carver on the sidewalk across the street.
He saw Jason sucking the brain out of some cheerleader’s skull with enthusiasm. Her body flat on the sidewalk, his face covered in fresh blood and brain mass.
He dropped the curtain. Contents of his stomach tried to come up, then again. Eddie put his hand on the windowsill to steady himself.
“Okay,” he said, very quietly, to the wall. “Okay. That’s. Yeah.” He turned around.
Erica was watching him with wide eyes. She was twelve years old and he had no answers for her.
“Lock the door,” he said.
She already had.
They waited for the others.
Mike and Dustin didn’t show. Gareth didn’t show. Jeff didn’t show.
Eddie sat at the head of the table, looking at his campaign notes and listening to the sounds outside getting worse and trying to think. Erica sat across from him eating the last of his chips.
“We have to go,” she said, around a mouthful of Doritos.
“I know.”
“My parents don’t know where I am.”
“I know.”
“Eddie.”
“I know, Erica, I’m thinking—”
“Think faster.”
He looked at her. She looked at him. Outside, something fell over with a wet crash and neither of them looked toward the window.
“Okay,” he said. “There’s an emergency stand at the end of the corridor. We need to make it there, grab the fire extinguisher and run downstairs to the parking lot. Stay next to me.”
Erica sipped her soda and nodded.
Eddie peeked outside the door. The corridor was empty, freshly washed and quiet like always when everyone except the outcasts were at the basketball game.
Halfway through the hall they saw Mrs. Braun, the history teacher Eddie frequently clashed with. Her eyes were whitish, face pale grey and she moved slowly but with the determination of a tank. The sleeve of her pink blouse was ripped off, exposing a deep bite on her arm.
“Fuck fuck fuck!” Eddie froze mid-step, considering running or redirecting.
“Munson.” Erica pulled on his hand.
“Yes, that’s me. Why the fuck is it always me in the middle of the shitstorm?”
“Analyze this later.”
“Okay, I’ll run to grab the fire extinguisher while you go back to the room—”
“Absolutely not. I will distract her while you run. She seems slow and wears those stupid shoes.” Erica didn’t lose her cool, or at least pretended better than Eddie, whose brain was short-circuiting.
“Fine, just don’t get caught, okay, kid?”
Eddie sprinted toward the fire stand while Erica started making noise and moving frantically, trying to distract Mrs. Braun without attracting more zombies. Eddie was almost at the stand when Mrs. Braun lurched toward him clumsily — and he made a sound he will never tell anyone about.
Thankfully, whether it was a zombie characteristic or just a history teacher attribute, she was slow enough for him to pass her and reach the fire stand, where Eddie desperately jerked on the handle before reading — pull the ring. He got to the fire extinguisher just in time to blow a spray of foam in her eyes, then hit her head with the bottom of the container. She fell down hard and splayed on the linoleum either dead or knocked out.
Just as he breathed out and felt the droplets of sweat run down his back, at the other end of the corridor a zombie basketball player emerged.
“Run, Erica!”
She did, but jocks even in zombie form were quick and better oriented. Erica barely made it to Eddie as he was spraying the zombie. The door closed behind them with a heavy thud. Eddie had to sacrifice his belt to tie the handles. The way to the van was clear.
Eddie drove with both hands on the wheel. His jaw set, taking turns he didn’t need to take, avoiding a few scenes of former citizens feasting on brains. I will take her home, then sit in the van and panic. Erica froze in the passenger seat with her arms crossed and her eyes tracking everything with pure horror.
The Sinclair house looked untouched from the outside, which was either a good sign or the cruelest possible joke. The porch light was on. The door opened before they made it up the front path — Mrs. Sinclair saw them through the window and pulled Erica immediately.
“She’s okay,” Eddie said from the porch. “She came to D&D, she was safe the whole time, I brought her straight here—”
“Lucas.” Mrs. Sinclair looked at him clutching Erica. “Lucas went to the basketball game. He hasn’t come home.”
Eddie’s stomach dropped. Lucas was there with Mrs. Braun roaming around, with Jason and whoever else is infected with he has no idea what. His brain was zoning out of the scale of the disaster, just focusing on the next step — getting Lucas out of danger.
Mr. Sinclair appeared in the hallway with a shotgun. Eddie had no idea the Sinclairs even had a gun. Everything shifted into a horror movie mode — elongated shadows, disturbing sounds from the street, and eerie TV static.
“I’ll find him, I have a machete,” Eddie heard himself say.
Everyone looked at him. Eddie wasn’t famous for being a hero.
“I’ll find him,” he said again, trying not to look terrified. “And I’ll bring him back.”
Mr. Sinclair looked Eddie over.
“I knew you were a satanist,” he said.
Eddie opened his mouth.
“But,” Mr. Sinclair added, with the gravity of a man rapidly reassessing his priorities, “given the circumstances, that’s an advantage.”
“Bring my son home.”
Eddie closed his mouth.
“Yes, sir,” he had no time and no desire to argue…
Erica finally cracked and cried in her mom’s arms, looking like a child she was and not a little smart brat she played usually.
“Stay inside, they are slow and dumb.” Eddie instructed no one specifically.
“I’ll watch them,” Mr. Sinclair promised, grasping the gun with an unsteady hand.
Eddie turned back to the van, thinking how the hell he was going to get Lucas out of a gym full of zombies, and lit a cigarette.
You should have gone home.
That was the thought blinking in his head as the van rattled down the empty Hawkins streets. Most cars were trying to get out of the town. Smart. Lucky.
Eddie had nowhere to go except his trailer. The trailer had walls. The trailer had a lock. It theoretically had safety. Wayne should come back in the morning, like he could sort out any of this mess.
Instead he was driving toward Hawkins High with a machete on the passenger seat and exactly one plan, which was:
1. Find Lucas.
2. Don’t die.
3. Bring him back home.
The school came into view. The parking lot looked very dead. The asphalt was streaked dark here and there. Eddie could hear distant screaming echoing somewhere inside the school.
And right in the middle of the parking lot—
Are you kidding me?
You were sprinting between cars while three zombies stumbled after you.
Not screaming. Not crying. Just running with exhausted determination. You vaulted over the hood of a Honda.
One of the zombies grabbed at your jacket and missed by inches. His jaws clicked with an unnatural sound. Your blood ran cold.
Eddie slammed his foot on the gas.
The van roared forward.
“OH SHIT—”
THUMP.
The first zombie disappeared under the tires.
THUMP.
The second spun sideways hard enough to bounce off a parked car. You screamed and covered your face with your hands as the blood splashed on you.
The third turned just in time to get obliterated by the front bumper with a crunch Eddie would absolutely never get over.
You stopped, breathing hard, eyes wide.
Eddie leaned across the passenger seat and shoved the door open.
“GET IN!”
You did instantly, slamming the door behind you.
Eddie peeled away across the parking lot while more figures began emerging near the school entrance.
For about five seconds neither of you spoke.
Then:
“See the hot dog truck there?”
Eddie glanced at you.
“What?”
“It’s mine.” You wiped bloody hands on your apron. “High school basketball game, my boss told me. Great cash. For fuck’s sake.”
Eddie stared.
“You’re taking this weirdly well. We are basically in the Night of the Creeps zombie slasher.”
You shrugged. “I work in food service.”
“— never thought making hotdogs was dangerous.”
“In the end of the shift when crackheads try to steal the cash.”
Eddie opened his mouth and shut it back. He pulled up next to the truck. The side read: DOG DAYS with a smiling cartoon dachshund wearing sunglasses.
“I’m Eddie, by the way.”
“Yeah, I know. Heard your band.” You gave him your name casually, as if it was not on your badge.
“Wait — you went to see Corroded Coffin?” The boy lit up like he didn’t kill four zombies today.
“I went to get a drink. But you were fast. I mean good.”
“Basically the same. Thank you, for real. If the world collapses at least I will be remembered.” Eddie chuckled grasping at the straw of normalcy.
You smiled and disappeared into the truck. A minute later your head reappeared at the service window.
“How do you like it?”
“What?”
“Your hot dog.”
Eddie considered whether he even wanted to eat right now, but then — it might be the last hot dog in his life.
“Everything on it.”
“I’ll even make it double sausage.”
He had no plan and no strategy. Going through the main entrance was suicide. The fire ladder was next to the gym window — a good chance to assess what was going on inside, and possibly a way in through the roof or the window.
“Enjoy.” You interrupted his thoughts. He pulled closer to the window and grabbed a jumbo hot dog dripping with sauce, chips on the side and a can of Cherry Coke.
“Thanks. If this is my last meal, let it be.” Eddie chewed off a quarter of it in one bite.
“What do you mean last meal? Aren’t you driving the hell out of here?”
“I need to rescue a kid from the basketball game.”
You looked at him, questioning his sanity. You were in the high school parking lot, right next to the gym, potentially full of zombies. It was dark already and you swore you could smell the blood in the air.
“How do you know he’s even alive? It’s full of zombies.”
A flock of birds took off the wires making you both flinch. They cautiously approached the zombie bodies Eddie squashed. One of them was still moving.
“I don’t. I accidentally promised his mom and sister. There’s a ladder, I’ll take a peek.” Eddie didn’t sound sure. In fact, he looked lost and terrified.
“I’ll go with you.” You grabbed a crowbar from under the counter and climbed out of your truck without waiting for his response.
“You can’t risk it like that.” He let you in still. “You even know how to use it?”
“Want a demo?”
Eddie read your deadpan and didn’t press.
“Seriously, you barely know me, and you don’t know Lucas, and this is dangerous…”
“You just saved my life. I owe you one. Anyways I was just going to cover your back while you figure it out.”
“You made me a hotdog, we’re even.”
“If we survive, you follow me home and check if there are no zombies around, deal?”
You didn’t buckle up.
“Deal.”
“Drive to the ladder.”
“Bossy, I like that.” He smirked at you, but internally Eddie was grateful not to be alone on this mission.
A shape near the front entrance caught your eye.
“Wait.”
Eddie followed your stare.
A police cruiser sat crooked near the school steps. One of the doors hung open. A body lay beside it in a very unnatural pose. Police uniform. Not moving.
“He might have ammo,” you said quietly.
Eddie swallowed.
“Right. Cool. Awesome. We’re robbing a corpse now. A policeman’s corpse.”
“Welcome to survival.”
You crossed the parking lot carefully, scanning the exits of the building.
The policeman was definitely dead. Not turned, just dead. Eddie tried to look away from the bite marks and broken skull, but the metallic smell crept into his nose and mouth.
You crouched first, checking the holster.
“Got it.”
You pulled the handgun free with surprising confidence and started fiddling with it.
Eddie blinked.
“Have you done this before?”
“I watch a lot of action movies.” You checked the chamber. “Loaded.”
“Great. Fucking amazing…” Eddie groaned and reached for a cigarette.
A distant shriek echoed from somewhere inside the school. Both of you looked up.
The gym doors trembled.
Something slammed against them from the inside.
Eddie gripped the machete tighter. The fire ladder hung off the side just a few steps away.
Eddie took a breath.
“Okay,” he said. “Up we go.”
You cocked the handgun.
Eddie gave you an alarmed glance. “Please tell me you actually know how to use that.”
“Nope.”
“If I get out of this alive I swear I’ll stop dealing.”
You gave Eddie a side eye.
“Normally I would let the lady go first…”
He went up the ladder first as something inside the school began screaming.
As I work on Hotline Desire - Phone sex operator!Eddie x Reader
I got some headcanons
Eddie thinks it’s a form of art and he is an artist.
He thinks it’s therapy too, because it makes people feel better.
He has a "work outfit"
He warms up his voice by singing a song or two with an acoustic guitar
He has props: big matches, leather pants to slap, wine glasses...
He creates sound effects: watermelon eaten close to the receiver, jello punched with conviction, whatever is in the fridge pressed into service. A leather belt pulled slowly through belt loops. Ice cubes dropped into a glass one at a time. A lighter flicked open and shut — the specific clink of a Zippo.
He goes off script a lot, sometimes incorporating goblins. He’s had complaints. The happy clients outnumber them significantly.
Occasionally he breaks into what is technically a monologue.
Sometimes the dungeon master bleeds through and he’s narrating a scene without quite realizing it.
Summary: New to the industry, you become paired with one of p*rn’s biggest names; Eddie “The Freak” Munson. Used to doing solo work, you can’t help but feel a little intimidated and a lot nervous. That is, until Eddie teaches you that maybe there isn’t all that much to be scared about.
Content Warning: 18+ smut, porn, porn-industry talk/mentions, pornstar!Eddie x pornstar!reader, sex work, allusion to sex, dirty talk, she/her pronouns, masturbation (m & f), use of sex toys, swearing/profanity, mentions of oral sex, actual oral sex (m & f receiving), swallowing, cum-play, handjob, digital penetration (fingering), light spanking, overstimulation, voyeurism, sex while being filmed, rough oral/face fucking, face riding, face smothering, spitting/sloppy oral sex (both m & f receiving), softdom!Eddie, mutual pining. Eddie is down bad for reader. Eddie solidifies the rumors that he's a total munch.
────────
He was supposed to be off on Sundays- practically unreachable. It was a clause in his final contract that he signed almost 11 months ago. He had Sundays off with no disruptions. No calls, no emails, no meetings- and absolutely no work. So, when his phone rang through the quiet confines of his loft-style apartment, he groaned out in frustration.
Leave me the fuck alone, Paul…
He thought, slumping further into his couch as he slung his forearm over his eyes. He had nothing on his agenda besides a well-needed nap and some light D&D manual reading. He didn’t even plan on leaving his apartment. Just that.
So, when his phone stopping ringing, Eddie let out a sigh of relief- trying to doze off again before it started ringing again. Not even a five minute pause between the last call.
Whatever he wants, he can leave a goddamn message like everyone else.
He would get to it on Monday. Maybe. If he was lucky.
But no.
On the third attempted call, Eddie jumps off the couch with a groan- stomping over to his wall phone before picking it up.
“Munson.” He murmurs gruffly as he leans against the wall impatiently.
“Eds! Jesus Christ, kid! Pick up your damn phone when I call.”
“What do you want, Paul?” Eddie drones, already wanting to be off the phone as fast as he picked it up.
“Look, kid, I know you said no Sundays but-“
“Nuh-uh.” Eddie cuts him off “No. You know the rules. The only thing I asked for when we renewed my contract was that I get to be unreachable on Sundays. This-“ Eddie gestures to the phone in his hand even though he knew his manager couldn’t see him. It was all for emphasis, really.
“This is not unreachable.” He finishes “It can wait until Monday.”
“Look, kiddo, I know what you said but I don’t think this can wait.”
“Yeah, well, it’ll have to wait. I’ll call you back tomorrow.”
“Do not hang up on me, Munson! I know you’ve only got a month left of this but at least respect me enough to hear me out when I speak to you.”
“Fine,” Eddie sighs, rubbing his temple in exasperation “What do you want?”
“I’ve got a gig for you. Trust me, kid, you’re gonna love it.”
Eddie rolls his eyes.
“Y’know, Paul, I feel like I’ve heard you say that before.” He points out.
“Nah, kid. I mean it. I’ve got something you’re gonna love. Meet me in my office in an hour.”
“What!?” Eddie exclaims “Hold on! Wait-“
But before Eddie could argue, his manager had already hung up- leaving the other end dead as he stood there in disbelief.
That fucking bastard.
────────
To say that the porn industry had made him jaded would be an understatement.
After three grueling years, a lot of fucking, faking it, and getting off enough women to start a Jim Jones-style cult- Eddie had had enough. He was retiring. For good.
The announcement to the porn industry had been a shock to everyone. Eddie “The Freak” Munson; the sex-industry’s “Prince of Porn” (Or “The Prince of Pussy” as some called him, for some odd reason) was leaving behind his legacy as the ladies’ favorite male pornstar. No one has seen anything like it. It was practically unfathomable that someone of his caliber- someone who jackhammered his way into the hearts of millions- was walking away.
To almost every man in America, Eddie “The Freak” Munson was living their dream. Eddie, however, was bored, tired, and lonely. It was fun while it lasted but he was ready to move on. You could only fuck so many blondes with huge tits and daddy kinks until it got completely played out and repetitive. It also didn’t help that, outside of filming, he wasn’t even interested in sex.
True be told, sex had become the last thing on his mind. Not that he couldn’t fuck anyone he wanted. Hell, he was sure there would be a line halfway to Europe if he did. He just didn’t see the point. It was like eating the same meal everyday for the rest of your life. You get tired of it pretty damn quick. What was the point of sex without the emotional connection? The passion? The lust? It was just a waste of time and energy.
Eddie rolled into his manager’s office an hour and a half later, taking his sweet time as he parked his van at the studio. He walks past the receptionists, sending a wink their way as he walked through to Paul’s private office suite. There have been many occasions when he overheard the girls at the front-desk fawning over him after he had just wrapped up a scene with some “up and coming” star that was completely underwhelming.
Sometimes he even thought about taking home one of the receptionists and dicking them down just to see if he felt something. That he wasn’t completely numb to getting someone else’s rocks off. But Paul would surely have his ass if he found out. Sometimes Eddie wondered why he even cared.
“Where the hell have you been?” Paul exclaims, turning towards Eddie once he walks through the door “I was just in the middle of calling you.”
Paul puts the phone down as he watches Eddie plop down into one of the chairs on the other side of his desk.
“Yeah, well, I’m here now. What are your other two wishes.” Eddie deadpans.
“You’re lucky that production pushed back today’s shoot by another hour otherwise you would’ve missed out on what the hell I even called you in for.” Paul chastises, earning an eye-roll from his client.
“Which is?” Eddie points out “You had me race across town in traffic and you haven’t even told me that the hell for. Let’s get on with it. What’s this gig you’re so obsessed about?”
“I found a girl for you.” Paul announces excitedly as if he were a matchmaker and not a manager for sex workers.
“….Okay.” Eddie replies slowly “That’s it?”
“Would you lighten up?” Paul replies incredulously “I’m getting there, okay? Just give me a minute to, you know, set the scene.”
“Paul, I don’t pay you 10% for you to ‘set the scene’ and waste my time. Let’s pick a lane here, and stick to it.” Eddie states, not mincing words. One thing he learned fast during his first year in the industry was that mincing words was what got you used up and stomped on.
“Alright. So, I found this girl. Her manager came to me. Her company is putting together a flick. Oral Fixation 5 or some shit like that. Anyway, they’re looking for a male costar for her. They want someone good. It’s the girl’s first time with a partner. She mainly does solo work. She’s a bit skittish but cute. Different than the type of girls you usually work with.”
“So, you want me to fuck an amateur?” Eddie asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
“No, no. Not an amateur. She’s been on film before.”
“Has she fucked anyone on film before?” Eddie challenges, eyeing his manager judgmentally. Leave it to Paul to call him in on his day off to ask him to fuck some newbie that probably has no idea what she’s doing.
“See, that’s the thing, you wouldn’t be fucking her.” Paul explains.
“Then what would I be doing? Feeding her bon-bons?” Eddie asks.
“Like I said, it’s an oral flick. No fucking. Very simple stuff. She basically does most of the work herself. She’ll start off solo, get herself nice and ready, you come in and eat her out, make her come, she’ll suck you off, let you come on her face and voila! Done! You’ll be out of here by noon tomorrow. So, whaddya say?”
“….What does she look like?” Eddie asks, leaning forward in his seat. He would be lying if he said his interest wasn’t piqued. No actual fucking? Just some light oral work, a blowjob, and then done? Didn’t seem that bad.
“That’s why I wanted you to come in!” Paul explains “She’s here. In Studio B shooting some stuff for Hot & Horny. You can head over, give her a good look, see what she can do, and then we can book it if she makes the cut. Maybe if she’s up to your standards, we can use her for your big flick. But you have to decide today before someone else snags her. She’s cute, kid. A real looker. I don’t see her staying small for very long.”
“Really?” Eddie asks, rubbing his chin in thought.
“Really.” Paul assures him “What’re you thinkin’?”
“Alright.” Eddie sighs, standing up from his chair “Let me see her.”
────────
When he walks into Studio B, Eddie is expecting to find another cookie-cutter run of the mill porn girl. Big fake silicone tits, lip injections, and an overly-enthusiastic fake orgasm. Bonus points for bleach blonde hair. What he didn’t expect to find was you- the complete antithesis of all of the other girls he’s used to. You were a breath of fresh air.
You stood off to the side of your set- a cute little bedroom set up complete with frilly pink floral sheets, heart shaped pillows, and cute little teddy bears. Boy band posters were taped onto the fake set walls to mimic the feel of a girl’s bedroom. College student, girl-next-door. Young, hot, and sexy- and, boy, Eddie was into it. He was so fucking into it.
Production staff began setting up the scene, placing several different adult toys onto the rose-printed lacy duvet. A smorgasbord of pleasure instruments. Eddie was no stranger to solo girls scenes. He’s gotten off to many of them. But this one was different. He was sucked in- intrigued.
You were standing in a silky robe, covering up whatever production has asked you to wear. All Eddie could get a glimpse of was the thigh high white stockings with lace trim that adorned your long, sexy legs. No heels. Interesting.
You were talking to a set manager, batting your long mascara-ed eyelashes as your pink, kissable lips spread into a sweet smile. The set guy said something that got you to laugh, your head tilting back as you let out an adorable sexy laugh- your hair draping down like a luscious waterfall.
Fuck, you were hot. So, so hot.
“Told you she was a looker.” Paul chimes in as he sidles up beside Eddie- too distracted to notice that he was even in the vicinity “What are your thoughts so far?”
Eddie didn’t want to reveal his hand just yet. He didn’t want to seem too eager.
“Let me sit in for this one. I wanna see what she does.” He replies slowly, crossing his arms over his chest.
Before he knows it, the director calls you over- motioning for you to enter your set and get yourself situated on the cutesy pink bed.
Alright, Eddie thought, Show-time.
Before the cameras begin to roll, you gingerly untie the silk sash of your rope- taking it off to reveal your lingerie ensemble before handing it off to a set manager. Eddie’s mouth immediately went dry.
There you were in all of your glory, decorated head-to-toe in a baby pink lacy lingerie set that Eddie wanted to unwrap- desperately. You wore a bra that was practically see-through, your perfect tits hardly covered by the lace that adorned them. Through the fabric, he could spot your perky nipples- his mouth beginning to water at the thought of rolling his tongue around them- his hands full of your gorgeous breasts.
You wore a pair of lacy matching panties. Your beautiful cunt barely hidden beneath the fabric. Covered up just enough to leave him wanting more. Teasing him. You were a vision. You sat primly on the bed, your legs tucked to the side- like a proper lady- as you waited for your cue to start. Eddie began to move closer- not wanting to miss this.
He sidled up to the small herd of production members, standing firmly as a few of them greeted him with a nod. They were probably wondering what the hell he was doing there. He normally didn’t sit in to watch scenes. He was more known to shoot his own shit, get dressed, and leave as soon as possible. Yet, here he was, metaphorically sitting on the edge of his seat as he waited for you to start.
As if by the grace of god, the set director calls action- signaling to you that the camera was rolling. There wasn’t even a hint of intimidation as you started off slow and tantalizing. You place your fingers over your lips, blowing your signature kiss to the camera. Those lips. Those pouty, pink lips. Eddie hadn’t seen anything yet and he was already hooked- those soft kissable lips drawing him in. Soft lips that he wanted wrapped around his cock.
Continuing on with your tease, you trail up your body with your cute little hands, reaching up to your chest- gently massaging your tits through your lacy pink bra. The movement was slow and sensual, your hands kneading your perfect breasts- pushing them together seductively as you began to look straight into the lens of the camera.
Okay, Eddie thought, this was definitely not your first time doing this sort of thing.
He could tell, immediately- his eyes taking in the way that you were confident and deliberate with your touches. The way that your hands trailed up and down your body- grabbing, kneading, and tracing your irresistible curves. You were comfortable. In your element. Eddie could tell right away that, when it came to getting yourself off, you were definitely no amateur. He had barely even seen anything yet and he knew- and all he wanted was to see it in real time.
You reach up to hook your thumbs into your bra straps, sliding them off your shoulders as you bit your lip- batting those pretty eyelashes at the camera lens. Reaching behind you, you began to unclasp your bra- sliding it off agonizingly slow. Eddie’s breath hitches as his eyes lock onto your bare tits- nipples hard and perky as you playfully toss the discarded bra onto the floor beside the set bed.
Eddie couldn’t help but smirk, loving the way that you teased the camera- staring it down as if it were the viewers at home. The sad, unfortunate losers that weren’t anywhere near as lucky as he was to see it in person- to even be offered the opportunity to get on his knees to please you.
You kneel onto the bed, giving the camera a good view of your lower half- your lace panties and stockings still on. Those fucking stockings. Eddie could feel the blood circulating to his dick, causing him to grow hard against the zipper of his jeans. You had barely even done anything but play with your tits and he was already starting to leak precum.
These days, it took a lot for Eddie to physically react to things. Being overly-exposed to sex in this industry tends to do that to you. So, the sheer notion that he was getting hard and horny for you when all he had seen so far were your breasts was pretty damn close to miraculous. You were barely even into your scene and he was sure that he’d have to use one of the private dressing rooms to rub one out afterwards.
You ran your hands down your stomach, staring down the camera as you caressed lower and lower down your body until you reached the waistband of your panties, biting your lip as you plunged your right hand into the fabric. Eddie had to stop himself from groaning at the sight. He had seen plenty of women touch themselves- he was a pornstar, for fuck sake- but the way that you did it was hypnotizing. His eyes become glued to your clothed core as he focuses on the way that your fingers moved and teased yourself behind the thin fabric.
So fucking hot. So goddamn sexy.
He wanted to see more- needed to see more.
Your nimble little fingers teased your clit, working behind the thin fabric of your panties as you threw your head back in pleasure- your hair cascading down as your free hand reached up to one of your breasts. You pinched the nipple between your fingers, letting out a light little moan that had Eddie’s dick stirring beneath his boxers.
Fuck, that’s hot. Eddie thought. Keep going, baby. Show me how you do it.
As if you could read his mind from across the room, your eyes open- flickering over to him as you inch your hand further down into your panties. You insert a digit inside of your pussy, causing yourself to gasp as the sensation.
Shit.
Eddie watches your knuckles work their way inside of your cunt as he strains himself to get even just a glimpse past what’s behind those pretty lace panties. He could bet that they were fucking sopping wet by the way that your muscles didn’t tense or stutter when you inserted another finger. You probably slid it in with complete ease. Like it was nothing- and that was so incredibly hot.
It went on like this for a while. Eddie staring at your lower half as you toyed with yourself from behind the panties. Just when he thought he was on the brink of getting blue balls, you slowly slipped your fingers out of your panties- the production lights on the studio set picking up the way that your digital glistened with your arousal. It was a fucking sight. Such a sight that Eddie didn’t even think about you upping the ante- taking your drenched fingers and sliding them into your mouth, wrapping your lips around them as you sucked them clean.
Holy..fuck.
Suddenly, the director called cut- the sound of his orders causing Eddie to snap his head over in horror.
Cut? No. No, no, no, no, no! You were just getting started! What the fuck?!
“Alright, babe, second act. Lose the panties and get into position. Legs spread, okay?” The director calls out, causing Eddie to sigh in relief. You weren’t wrapping yet.
Thank god!
You nod at the director, hopping off the bed as you begin to take your panties off, sliding them down your legs. Where Eddie was standing off-set, he had the perfect view as you bent over further and further to push your underwear off. You were bend over so low that he had a full fucking view of your glistening wet pussy, and he was right- you were sopping. It took all of the fucking strength and self-control he had to not stomp onto that set, pull down his jeans to free his raging hard cock and jam it into your fucking cunt. God, he’s never wanted to fuck someone so badly in his life. He wanted to tell production to fuck your solo scene so that he could start fucking you.
You straighten up, now standing as you kicked off the panties- leaving you completely nude aside from the white thigh-high stockings. You climb back onto the bed, perched near the edge as you opened your legs- sitting spread eagle in front of the camera. Eddie was fully convinced that he was about to pass out.
That perfect little pussy. It was wet, pink, and tight. The prettiest he’s ever seen and he’s seen a lot during his career. Yours was the first to make him go weak in the knees, wanting to sink down in front of you at the edge of the bed as he spread you open and devoured you- acting as if you would be his last meal.
Production came rushing in to fix your hair, smoothing away any imperfections before running off set- gearing up for your cue. You waited patiently like a good, good girl. Hands to yourself as you awaited permission to continue and, if it were up to Eddie, he would reward you. For being so good. So patient.
The director begins rolling, cuing you in to start and Eddie was hooked and ready to see what you would do next- spread out in front of him. Your eyes catch the camera, your hands roaming down to your core as you begin to play with your clit- now uncovered. No barriers in-between. Thank god.
Your middle finger does all of the work, slowly circling your sensitive little button as you throw your head back again, letting the sensation take over you. Letting your hands freely pleasure yourself as if no one were watching- as if it really were you in your bedroom alone. That, Eddie decided, was what made it so hot. You weren't putting on a performance for anyone. There was no theatrics, no drama- no over the top acting. It was you. Just as you were. Enjoying every little bit of it- and, goddamn, was it sexy.
You let out soft little moans and gasps that went straight to Eddie’s dick, twitching in his pants at the way that you sounded. You sounded sweet- melodic. Music to his ears as your breathing picked up. He stared as you moved your fingers from your clit and down through your folds, wet and glistening as you spread your arousal all over your sex. You were drenched. In all of his life, Eddie never even thought about wanting to be an appendage, but holy shit was he jealous of your fingers.
You use one of your hands to spread yourself open for the camera, causing Eddie’s eyes to almost roll into the back of his head. He was seeing so much of you and he hadn’t even met you yet. But he couldn’t help but watch. He couldn’t look away.
You sink the middle finger of your other hand into your pussy, pushing it in until you reach your knuckle- so fucking deep with that little finger of yours. Eddie couldn’t help but want to take over, wanting to use his much bigger digits to fill you up just how you deserved.
Eddie watched as you slip another finger in, framing your soaked core with your pointer and pinky finger. The way that you touched yourself was hypnotic, putting him in a trance as you ramped yourself up closer and closer to your orgasm. Your moans grew louder, breathing heavier and more needy. Because there was something you needed- Him. Or maybe that’s delusional of him to think. But he knew that he needed you. He was hungry for you and he wanted a taste.
You begin fingering yourself, expertly delving your fingers into your pussy as you fucked yourself with your digits just the way that you liked. Eddie studies this, watching the way that you liked it- wanting to replicate it. No, he wanted to do it better. So fucking good that you couldn't even fathom the idea of anyone touching you but him. He was so drunk on your pussy and he hadn't even so much as touched it yet. He was fucked.
"Alright, angel." The director calls out, catching Eddie's attention for a moment "How about we get some footage of you with one of the toys? Get a really good build-up, climax, we'll do a closeup of the aftermath, and then we're done. Sound good?"
Toys? Eddie forgot about the toys. He was so fucked. He probably shouldn't watch this, knowing that he could very well finish in his pants- but he didn't care. He was rooted to the spot. Too addicted to move. He was drunk on you and your sexy body and your perfect pussy. He needed this. He needed to see you come undone. He needed something to think about tonight as he jacked himself off so hard that he would probably chafe. He'd have to use lube. His own spit wouldn't cut it. There's no way that he could rub himself raw when he knew that he was going to be lucky enough to be in your mouth the next day. Sucked off by those pouty pink lips.
His own thoughts and the view of you naked on that bed, toying with yourself, was becoming overstimulating. It was like an outer-body experience to watch. Even though he didn't feel like he was in his own body, he knew that there was nothing he wanted more than to be inside of yours.
His eyes are glued to the scene as you daintily reach for the toy of your choice. A purple Jack Rabbit style vibrator. You click it on, watching as the toy came to life in your hands. Eddie couldn't help but think about how much bigger he was than that stupid toy. How he would be able to reach places inside of you that the vibrator couldn't even come close to reaching. Places that you probably didn't even know existed. You deserved to be fucked like a queen. Not by some inadequate toy. Even still, he watched as you pressed the tip of the toy to your clit- causing you to gasp loudly in reaction.
Fuck, Eddie thought as he watched you slide the tip of the toy past your clit and through your folds- marveling at the way that your body shivered in reaction. The way that your body responded to pleasure was oh so delicious. Eddie was eating it up like he was starving.
He watches as the toy collects a thick coating of your arousal, making it so wet that Eddie had to bite his lip to keep from moaning.
Fuck, you were so wet.
You slide the toy back up towards your clit, pressing the tip against it harshly as your eyes fluttered shut- causing you to buck your hips.
So fucking sensitive.
You swirl the toy against your clit as you breath catches, followed by a soft moan that escaped those pretty lips.
Fuck, baby, let me hear you.
As if you could hear his thoughts, you let out a needy whine. You needed more. It wasn't enough. Not even close.
Before he could process it, you had begun to insert the toy into your pussy- falling back onto the mattress underneath you as you started to thrust it inside. Flicking your wrist with a motion that had you whimpering desperately. The vibration inside of your cunt causing your walls to contract around the vibrator- making it a tight squeeze to continue thrusting.
Eddie's eyes were wide as he watched. The sounds of your moans, the faint buzzing of the vibrator, and the wet squelching sound of your pussy completely overtaking him. Fuck, this was hot. The most erotic thing he's ever fucking seen.
You continue fucking yourself with it, picking up the pace as you sit yourself up enough to watch you fuck yourself with it.
Shit, yes! Bet you like to watch yourself get fucked, don't you?
You mouth falls open as you watch how slickly coated the toy was as you pushed it in and out of your pussy. Eddie was jealous that it wasn't his dick covered in your arousal, making it so easy for him to slide in and out of your cunt at an ungodly pace. He wanted it so fucking bad that his knees were weak.
Without warning, you finally find that spot. That perfect spot deep within you that had you going crazy. Toes curling, gasping for air, moaning out like crazy as you squeezed your eyes shut. You were close.
Fuck, baby! Just like that! Fuck, fuck, fuck!
You pushed that pathetic little toy as deep as it could go, your mouth falling into a perfect little 'O' as you got closer and closer and closer.
Show me how you like it, baby. That's right. So fucking good!
Soon you couldn't control yourself, bucking your hips as you thrusted it in and out of hole as your moans became more loud and desperate.
Fuck, sweetheart, doing so good. You're almost there. Need to watch you cum.
You began to reach your peak, practically sobbing as you kept working for it.
C'mon, baby. Give it to me. Let me see it.
And as if on cue with his dirty thoughts, you cry out in pleasure. Finally peaking as your thighs began to shake, whimpering as you came all over that stupid toy- your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave.
Fuck, yes! That's it! Fuck, you are so fucking hot! Jesus fucking Christ!
You rode out your orgasm, your chest rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath. It was so fucking hot. Eddie didn't know how he had gone this long in his career without fucking you. Without knowing you existed. A perfect little sex kitten that he wanted to play with. Hell, you alone were giving him second thoughts about retiring. Not before he could fuck you in every possible way imaginable. Fuck, he was so fucking into you that he could surely invent new ways to fuck you that had never even been thought of before. He'd have to create a whole new updated version of the Kama Sutra with you as his sole muse.
"That's a wrap! You did great!"
The director praises you as you slowly begin to sit up on the bed, hair wild with a blissed-out look on your face. Eddie had never seen someone look so beautiful post-orgasm.
A member of the production crew came over to you and handed you your silk robe. You stand up with shaky legs as they helped you put it on- making yourself modest after that fucking smoke-show that you had just given everybody. Eddie didn't know how no one else was crashing down like he was. He was leaking so much precum that he would probably need new pants. But it was worth it because you were...wow.
"See? I told you." Eddie whips his head over to catch his manager standing there next to him. Had he been there the whole time? Had Eddie been talking out loud? "What do you think, kid?"
Eddie's mouth was dry. He felt dehydrated from just watching. He felt like he needed to down a gallon of water after watching you get yourself off like a fucking professional. With an intensity that he's never fucking seen before.
"Is she still available?" Eddie croaks, his heart hammering in his chest. What if another guy had swooped in and booked the gig right under his nose while he was too busy ogling at you?
"I could give her manager a call and see if it's still open. I know they reached out to a few guys. That Chris Infamous guy being one of them. The jacked up one with the muscles. You know who I'm talking about."
Chris Infamous? Over his dead fucking body!
“Paul, go call her manager right now and tell them I’m in. Like, now.”
────────
The whole way home, he had been antsy. He had waited an hour after your shoot in his manager’s office as he called up your manager in an attempt to get in touch with them. There was no luck. Paul had missed them every single time- and Eddie made him leave a voicemail every…single…time. He couldn’t let this opportunity slip through his hands.
Eddie tried to busy himself with his previous plans that he had before leaving his loft earlier that day but he just couldn’t focus. The words in his Dungeons and Dragons player manual just blended together and his mind would wander off, causing him to read the same sentence over and over again.
He couldn’t keep his mind off of you. Your soft, supple body wrapped up in that pink lingerie. Those goddamn white stockings that you had kept on the entire shoot. The way your pussy glistened with your arousal underneath the production lights. Eddie was addicted- transfixed. He needed to do this scene with you.
He throws down his player’s manual, tossing his head back onto the couch. He stares up at the ceiling as he lets out a frustrated grunt. Waiting back for a response was torture. He just needed a yes or a no- hopefully a yes. God, he was hoping for a yes. But if the gig was taken, he wished he would know sooner rather than later in order to kill the anticipation.
He reaches onto the coffee table for his pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and placing it between his lips before lighting it. He took a couple of drags, the taste of nicotine barely doing anything to calm his nerves. He was so pent up. He had been ever since your scene. He was hot and bothered.
His mind drifts back to thoughts of you. Your perfect tits that would fit perfectly in his hands. Your perky nipples that he wanted to roll his tongue against, tasting them. But he mostly thought about your sex. What you would taste like. He imagined that you would be sweet- candy-coated beneath his tongue as he ate you up. Liquified sugar in the best way.
Eddie could feel his cock twitch beneath his pants as he fantasized- wanting to bury his head between your soft thighs as he worked his tongue against you so ferociously like it would be the last thing he’d ever do. He’d never wanted someone as bad as he wanted you- wishing that he could toy with your sensitive little button with the tip of his tongue. Teasing you until you begged for more.
Eddie began to unbutton his pants, feeling the ache in his cock that was dying to be satiated. He needed a release. His head was so full of you that he needed to do something to quell the heat that he felt in his groin. He needed to cum.
He pulls down his zipper, feeling a sense of relief as the pressure of the metal enclosure against his hard cock was finally removed. It was like releasing a long, pent-up sigh. He was painfully hard. Practically throbbing underneath his boxers as he slides his hand down past the fabric, gripping himself as he attempts to pull his dick out. He winces at the sensitivity he felt on his cock head.
When he pulls his dick free from his jeans, he looks down to find that his tip was nearly red, angry at the lack of attention that it was receiving. It had been a long time since Eddie had touched himself. He normally didn’t have to with the kind of work that he did. But this was different, he needed this. He needed relief.
He wraps his hand around his length, slowly moving it up and down the way that he liked but his member felt nearly hot to the touch. He was so worked up that it had made him ultra-sensitive to every little thing. Every stroke, every little flick of his wrist. He could feel everything with ten times more intensity than normal. And, god, he didn’t want this. He didn’t want to jack himself off to completion on his living room couch. No, he wanted to sink his desperately hard cock into the velvety soft walls of your incredible cunt.
A pearl of precum leaks out of his tip, slowly dripping down until he collects it with his finger-swiping it up to use as lubricant and he began to buck his hips into his hand. It shouldn’t be his hand. It should be you. He didn’t want to settle for anything that wasn’t you. But he’d have to until he hopefully got the real thing.
“Ah! F-fuck!” He gasps as he picks up a faster pace, wanting to reach his peak as quickly as possible. He was desperate for it. He was needy and fucked out by the images of you that kept playing out in his head.
You on the bed with your legs spread wide open for him, ready to take whatever it was that he was willing to give you like the good girl you would be. Like the good girl he just knew that you were. He stroked himself fast and hard as he thought about how he’d want you to take his cock. He wanted your legs slung over his shoulders as he pounded into you hard enough to have you sobbing. He wanted to wrap his hand around your throat and jerk you back onto his cock as he fucked you from behind. He wanted to fuck you like a whore. Like you were made for it.
“Fuck, baby…” Eddie whimpers, more precum oozing from his tip as he imagined that it was your hand instead of his. Stroking him with those soft little hands of yours as you stared him down with those gorgeous eyes. Marveling at just how crazy you could drive him- at just how badly he wanted you.
“Shit….just like that, sweetheart. Fuck.”
Eddie could feel himself getting close, his breathing picking up faster and faster until they became needy grunts- trying to chase his high.
“Shit, shit, holy fuck…”
He kept stroking and he wouldn’t stop until he got there. Not when all he could think about was just how hot you looked when you orgasm. When all he wanted was to fuck you so good that you had to beg him to stop. How he wanted to make you cum on his cock over and over again until you couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to take you apart just to put you back together again.
Just when he was ramping up to his finish, a few seconds away from blowing his load into his hand, the phone rings- snatching him right out of his fantasies.
Fuck. No!
He growls in frustration, jumping off the couch as he stumbles towards the phone- barely stuffing his angry cock back into the confines of his jeans. A denim-clad prison.
“What?” He huffs as he picks up the phone, his breathing still heavy and ragged from touching himself.
“Eddie, listen, I got in touch with her management.”
“Fuck!” He sighs in relief, resting his back against the wall. “What’d they say?”
“They were pretty psyched that you wanted in, kid. Turns out you were first choice for them. Which is great because they were an inch away from giving the gig to Chris. Good thing I called when I did. Anyway, you got the gig. They’re excited. The girl’s excited.”
You were excited? Wait…You knew who he was?
“Wait, she knows who I am?” Eddie stammers, his heart beating wildly in his chest.
“Oh yeah.” Paul laughs “Apparently she’s a huge fan.”
“Fuuuck. No shit?” He asks, trying to fight the grin on his face. He felt on-top-of the-world fucking incredible.
“Have you ever known me to pull your leg, kid? She asked for you specifically. By name. Lucky you, playboy!”
Yeah, Eddie thought. No fucking kidding!
“She asked…for me?” He still couldn’t believe it. You were out-of-this-world gorgeous and you wanted him to be your first on-screen partner? Eddie hadn’t experienced an ego-boost this big since…well, ever.
“Yeah, kid. First on her list. She was worried we wouldn’t accept what her management was offering but I told her we’d make it work.”
Fuck, he would do it for free.
Wait…
“You spoke to her?” Eddie asks, jaw practically hitting the floor.
“Oh yeah,” Paul replied “She personally returned my calls. Wanted to thank us for accepting.”
“No fucking way.” Eddie swoons. It just kept getting better.
“She also wanted me to tell you that she hoped you were impressed at the shoot today. She said she was a little nervous when she saw you but hopefully you didn’t notice.”
You...naughty…little…minx. You had known that he was there the entire time? Fuck….
“Anyway, call time for tomorrow is eight a.m.” Paul adds “And Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“Don’t fucking be late.”
────────
The next morning, Eddie had woken up early.
Not because he had something to do or somewhere to be. No vastly important errands that he needed to run. Eddie had woken up early because his body couldn’t stand to stay dormant and asleep any longer. Because, for once in a long time, his reality was better than sleep. He had something to look forward to- you.
He had never felt this way before, never took his work too seriously- honestly, what was there to take seriously? He just showed up, fucked, picked up his check, and went home. He never put much thought into things. He just did them. But today was different. Today, he seemed to be putting too much thought into everything.
He agonized over whether or not to drink coffee, worried that the caffeine might make him come off hyper or on edge when he finally had the opportunity to speak to you. He debated foregoing breakfast, giving himself an excuse to invite you out to post-work brunch if things really took off between you two. This was the start of all of his worries. The closer it got to his call time, he got more and more in his own head.
He was suddenly hyper-aware of everything about himself. Anything that you could nit-pick when you finally met. Did you like tattooed guys? What if you didn’t? Would you think his tattoos were stupid? Did you prefer guys with short hair as opposed to long hair? What if he wasn’t your type at all in the slightest and none of this even really mattered? It only got worse by the minute.
Then he reminded himself that you knew him. You’ve seen his work. You were a fan. There was obviously something you must have liked if you chose him out of any other guy in the industry. You were so pretty that you could have requested anyone you wanted- and you chose him. Eddie desperately wanted to know why.
He prepped and primped himself in the bathroom like a teenage girl. He took extra care in the shower, scrubbing every inch of himself vigorously with the soap that smelled extra good.
He washed and conditioned his hair. Hell, he actually brushed it and applied product instead of just running his fingers through it and calling it good. He fucking styled it- putting it into a low bun with a hair tie that he found in his medicine cabinet. He knew just how much wearing his hair up drove women crazy- and he hoped that you weren’t any exception.
He paid extra attention to his downstairs area, making sure that he was perfectly trimmed and proper for you. The last thing he wanted was for you to get on your knees for him and be met with an unkempt jungle. He wanted things to be neat and tidy. He also hoped that landscaping the bush would make his dick appear prettier- something that you’d want to put in your mouth.
An hour before his call time, he was shaking like a leaf. He felt like he was in high school again, nervous and skittish around the female population of Hawkins High. Which was ironic considering what he does for a living these days. Over the years following graduation and leaving that hellhole, Eddie had begun to gain a sense of self-confidence. His demeanor changed.
He became sure of himself, finally believing that he was worth women’s attention. That he was far more attractive than he initially gave himself credit for- and the critical feedback on his work as a porn actor definitely proved that. If twenty year-old Eddie could see just how many women would flip their shit over him, he’d have probably dropped dead in disbelief. But none of those women mattered. None of the porn girls that he had previously filmed with mattered. Even the girls from Hawkins didn’t matter anymore. You mattered.
The whole drive to the studio was anxiety-inducing. Multiple people tried to cut him off on the freeway- gotta love L.A. traffic. Some douchebag in a fucking Corvette flipped him off because he forgot to use his blinker, which seemed to worsen Eddie’s mood as he just kept overthinking himself. How was he supposed to talk to you, let alone shoot a scene, when he couldn’t even drive straight?
When he finally pulled up to the studio and parked his van, Eddie was officially a wreck. He had no idea what to do with himself. You were probably already inside trying to pretty yourself up for your scene together. Eddie couldn’t help but wonder what you would wear- hell, why did he even care if you wore anything at all?
He wondered if you were just as nervous as he was. Granted, you had an excuse. This would be your first scene with a partner, meanwhile, this wasn’t anywhere close to Eddie’s first rodeo. Yet, he felt like a virgin on prom night.
He enters the studio, trying to act normal as the front desk girls greet him. Even the choruses of “Hi Eddie…” in their seductive voices weren’t enough to get him out of his own head. He just gave a small wave and a slight tinge of a smile on his lips. Normally he would’ve leaned up against the receptionist desk and flirted- given them just a scrap of his attention. But not today. Not when he felt like he was going to be sick.
He drifted all the way back to Paul’s office, casually knocking on the door a couple of times before letting himself in. His manager looks up from his desk, suddenly adopting a confused look on his face once he laid eyes on Eddie.
“What in the hell are you doing here?” Paul asks, tilting his head in confusion.
The comment takes Eddie aback, immediately causing his stomach to drop. Was he missing something? He was supposed to be here…right? Then he felt the dread seep in.
Fuck. The shoot’s cancelled. No way. There is no…fucking…way.
“I…uh…I’m confused.” Eddie replies slowly, shaking his head as he tries to keep it together. This could not be happening.
“Aren’t we shooting today? I came before call time. Did they fucking cancel?” He panics, running his ring-clad fingers through his hair in agony. Fuck!
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Slow down.” Paul says “Nobody cancelled. Shoot’s still on.”
“But…I thought…you said you were surprised that I’m here.” Eddie tries to reason.
“Yeah,” Paul nods, looking at Eddie as if he were nuts “I’m surprised that you’re here before call time. I’ve managed you for the past three years and I can barely remember a time when you’ve ever shown up on time. Let alone early.”
“Oh.” Eddie replies, dumbfounded.
Well, at least the shoot is still on.
“Are you wearing cologne?” Paul asks, looking Eddie up and down as he stood awkwardly in front of his desk.
“Oh.” Eddie breathes “Yeah.”
That has Paul even more confused. Eddie always smelled nice but it was always just his natural scent- laundry detergent, a woodsy musk from the deodorant he wore, and a hint of cigarette smoke. Eddie never deliberately put on cologne unless he was trying to impress someone- and Paul knew this.
“Alright, well…” Paul starts, not knowing what to say to make things less awkward than it already was “Your leading lady is here. Dressing room A.”
“She’s here already?” Eddie gapes, taken by surprise. He thought he had more time to prepare. For what? He didn’t know.
“Yeah, kid. Unlike you, the leading lady happens to know a thing or two about punctuality. Speaking of which, why don’t you go see how she’s doing? Bet she’s sweating like a sinner in church. First time on-camera partner and all that.”
“Do you think she’s nervous?” Eddie asks, out of concern but mostly to gauge if you could be nervous because of him.
“No idea, kid, but it would be nice for you to have a conversation with each other. You know, before you stick your dick in her mouth.” Paul suggests.
To which, he had a great point. Eddie probably should go and say hi. Hopefully he can pull himself together enough to be charming and personable for you. Or, if anything, at least make you feel a bit more comfortable with him before he went down on you in front of a whole camera crew. This could either go very well for him or become a complete disaster.
────────
Eddie stood outside of your dressing room door, his body so tense that he felt like stone. On the other side of this door was you- the girl of his wet dreams that he somehow, begrudgingly, didn’t know existed until yesterday. To say that he was nervous would be an understatement. Eddie’s stomach felt like it was tied in knots and the last thing he wanted was for you to see that he was nervous. No, he had to play it cool- confident and sure of himself. He could do this. Even if it was all a facade.
He begins to knock, so nervous that he could practically break into a sweat over it. He was definitely glad that he decided to wear cologne today but then Eddie began to worry that maybe the cologne would make it seem like he was trying too hard. He was worried that you could sense it and that it would turn you off. Turning you off was the absolute last thing he wanted to do.
He could hear shuffling from behind the door, the sound growing closer before the handle turned and the door swung open- revealing you. All dolled up with completed hair and makeup. Wearing that short little silk robe. As soon as you saw him, your face broke into a smile.
Okay, Eddie thought, that’s a good sign.
“Hey,” he smiles, trying to be smooth but it was so fucking hard when you looked at him with those eyes “I’m Eddie. I’m…uh…I’m your scene partner for today.”
Not that he had to introduce himself. You knew exactly who he was. You had gotten off to his scenes more times than you could count.
“Right, of course!” You exclaim, extending out your hand in greeting as you introduced yourself to him. Eddie raised his eyebrows when he noticed that you hadn’t given him your porn name. No, you had given him your real name.
“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you….properly.” Eddie jokes, causing you to laugh. God, he loved the way your lips curled into a smile- how your eyes lit up. You were so damn pretty.
“Me too.” you nod, looking at him for a beat too long to be accidental. With a cheeky little glint in your eyes as you casually looked him up and down.
Oh, Eddie thought, so we’re flirting now?
“You mind if I come in? Or are you going to make me hang out in the hallway?” Eddie teases “Which I wouldn’t mind. As long as you keep looking at me like that.”
Your heart flutters in your chest “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” You bite your lip nervously- and, boy, does Eddie notice.
“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” He smirks “So, you gonna let me in or?”
“Right!” You shake your head “Come in.”
You step aside, letting him walk through the door before closing it for privacy. Not that you expected anything to happen. Not off-camera, at least.
Eddie walks over and sinks down onto the small loveseat that was against the wall in the dressing room. He sits seductively, legs spread apart as he leans back on the sofa like he owned it. Honestly, he was so charming that he could tell you that he did, indeed, own it and you’d believe him. You, on the other hand, sank down into the hair and makeup chair across from him.
“So, I…uh….I should probably say thank you for accepting. My management probably already told you but it’s my first time doing a scene with someone else. I normally do solo work.”
“So I’ve seen.” Eddie replies, a cocky smirk on his lips. He wanted you to know that he had seen you in action. Not that he needed to tell you. No, he just wanted to remind you of the fact.
“So, my manager might have told me that you had requested me specifically…..by name.”
As soon as the words left his lips, your face began to heat up in embarrassment. “He told you that?”
“Mhm.” Eddie hums, his eyes devouring you.
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry,” Eddie smiles slyly “I was pretty flattered, actually. Not gonna lie, it kinda gave me a big head.”
And, to tell you the truth, I wanna show you my big head, Eddie wanted to say.
But he didn’t want to come off crude and overtly sexual during your first meeting.
“Really?” You mumble bashfully, trying to look anywhere but at Eddie but it was so hard when he was so fucking hot.
“Yeah.” He confirms “Especially coming from a girl like you. So, tell me, sweetheart….why me?”
The sound of his deep, sexy voice calling you sweetheart was enough to make you light-headed. Lord have mercy….
“Well,” you sigh “My management really started to float the idea of me doing stuff with a co-star. They thought it might push my career a bit more and give me more opportunities. To be honest, I wanted to do it but I didn’t want to do it with just anyone. So, I told them that I would only agree to do it as long as I could pitch at least one guy that I thought I could feel…comfortable with.”
You thought you could feel comfortable with him. You had chosen him because there was something about him that you felt was different than all of the other porn guys. You were far too shy to admit it but Eddie was your favorite male pornstar. You didn’t know what it was about him but he just felt safe. Like you wouldn’t be completely in your head if you were to work with him.
You had seen so much of his stuff that you had witnessed exactly how he treated other girls-putting their pleasure first so much so that he made sure to at least get them off twice before he finished, himself. It wasn’t just that but how soft he seemed with them. Like every one of them and how they felt was important. For your first time, you didn’t want to feel like a piece of meat. You wanted to feel cared for. You were certain that Eddie Munson would be the perfect guy to pop your first-time cherry with. He didn’t want to settle for anything else.
“I make you feel comfortable?” He asks, looking at you in a way that had you on the brink of melting into your seat. However, truth be told, it was Eddie who was trying not to lose his shit. You felt comfortable with him. You had chosen him because there was something different about him than the others. You felt something.
“That’s, uh, really flattering.” Eddie clears his throat, trying to stifle the very turned-on moan that he felt coming. "Can I maybe ask why you feel comfortable with me? Y'know, so I can lean into it while we're shooting the scene?"
And so I can use it as spank bank material tonight…
“Well, I don't really know what it is exactly.” You begin, wringing your hands nervously in your lap “I guess it’s the vibe you give off. I’ve seen your stuff and I just….there’s something about how you treat the other girls that makes me feel like I’d be safe. Cared for, I guess.”
“Okay, yeah." He nods.
Keep it together, Eddie. Jesus Christ...
“I want to make sure you feel cared for. It's important to me. Especially it being your first time. I'm really flattered."
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah, of course. How could I not be?' Eddie admits “You're, like, super gorgeous....and you picked me, for some reason."
He says it as if he's not one of the most sought after guys in the industry. Like he was nobody. Like he couldn't have a harem of girls hanging all over him if he wanted to.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m looking forward to it. Making you feel cared for...and safe."
"Thanks, Eddie." You reply bashfully "That means a lot to me."
"Um....so....since we're being truthful and shit...can I admit something?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
"Yeah." You agree "Absolutely. Safe space and all." You smile and, god, it makes Eddie's dick so hard.
"I...uh...I've kinda got a little crush on you." He blurts out before he can back out of saying it.
"Oh." You breathe, your eyes widening in surprise "You have a crush...on me?"
Eddie fucking Munson just admitted that he had a crush on you.
"...Yeah." He winces "I've kinda been down bad for you since yesterday."
"Really?" You repeat "Me?"
"Why do you keep saying it like it's hard to believe or something?" Eddie laughs.
"I mean....because it is. You're...you know..."
"I'm what?" He pushes, wanting to hear you say it.
"You're Eddie 'The Munch' Munson, for god's sake."
"Jesus fucking Christ," Eddie laughs "That’s a new one."
"I mean...it's not not factual." You argue "When you...you know...eat pussy like that....you could have basically any girl that you want."
"Hm." Eddie hums, as if he were doubting it.
"Oh please," You tease "Don't act all modest. You know you're gifted."
"Oh, I am, am I?" He flirts, a cheeky smirk spreading across his lips.
"As if you don't know." You scoff, trying to avoid his gaze. But how could you when he was so hot?
"Well, sweetheart, that's really flattering coming from you." He compliments "At least I know that I have a pretty good chance of pleasing you later."
The comment went straight to your core, causing you to shift in the hair and makeup chair as you clamp your thighs together. You tried to be inconspicuous about the fact that him and his words had such a strong effect on you, but Eddie's eyes shift to your long, sexy legs as you crossed them in your seat. His lips curl into another smirk. He was loving this.
"Don't look at me like that." You practically whisper, your face heating up bashfully.
"Like what?" Eddie teases, that fucking shit-eating-grin still plastered on his face.
"I don't know. Like-"
"Like I wanna eat you?" Eddie interjects, raising an eyebrow at you seductively.
Cocky asshole....
"What if I do wanna eat you, sweetheart?" He asks, leaning forward as he rests his elbows on his knees, staring you down.
"I-"
"'Cause I do. As a matter of fact, since this is a safe space and all, I'm going to tell you that I wanna eat you so fucking bad. Real bad."
You were so fucking wet. Holy fucking shit.
"And if I'm being real honest, baby, I wanna eat you so good that I make you cry. But I get the feeling that you just might like that."
"Eddie..."
"But only if you want me to." He adds "I don't wanna misinterpret anything."
He couldn't misinterpret anything if he fucking tried. How you felt about him was so fucking obvious.
"Anyway," He says, quickly standing from his seat on the sofa. “I should probably go freshen up for you. Y'know, seeing as I'm about to get really lucky in the next..." He checks his watch "Thirty minutes."
He looks up from his watch, his big brown eyes falling upon you- drinking you in.
"See you out there, Princess."
────────
You were so fucking nervous. You stood off-set, watching as production set up lighting- making sure there was the right amount of brightness on the scene stage. The set was a small brick-walled room with an expensive looking black leather sofa in the middle. White shag rug underneath it and some vibrantly green foliage plants in the background.
It was reminiscent of those “casting couch” scenes that porn companies liked to shoot- but this one was classy. Not cheap and sleazy. Like it was the middle of someone’s living room- a glimpse into a private passionate moment between a couple and not just two strangers fucking. Eddie Munson was going to eat you out on that couch. The thought of it made you somehow even wetter than you already were.
Just as you were allowing yourself to get lost in the fantasy, you feel a large hand on your waist- causing you to look over to find Eddie standing next to you. Staring at you with softness in his eyes.
“Doing okay?” He asks, searching your face for any indication that you weren’t, indeed, doing okay.
“I’m okay.” You breathe shakily “Just a little nervous.”
“Don’t be.” Eddie whispers, leaning into you so intimately that only you could hear “There’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just me. You’re safe with me, okay?”
And somehow those five little words felt like they’ve lifted so much weight off of your shoulders. He was right. It was just him. You could trust him.
“Okay.” You whisper, looking into his warm, brown eyes. Everything was going to be okay.
“How about this…” he starts, beginning to think “If things become too much or you need to stop, I want you to tap my arm twice. I’ll get them to cut and we’ll take a break.”
“Won’t they get mad?” You ask, your voice tiny and uncertain.
“It doesn’t matter.” He states “What matters is that you’re comfortable. This is about you, sweetheart. Without you, there’s no scene. You have the upper-hand. You are in control here. Nothing happens here that you don’t want to happen. Understand?”
“Yeah.” You nod “Okay.”
“You trust me?”
“I trust you, Eddie.”
“Good.” He nods “Because there’s nothing to worry about. If things start to get overwhelming with everyone watching just close your eyes and just focus on feeling, okay? That’s my job. To make you feel good.”
You didn’t think it was possible to be even wetter than you had been before but Eddie being sweet on you had practically opened up a floodgate inside of you. If it weren’t for the scene, you’d throw yourself at him right there.
“Well, hopefully I’m able to return the favor.” You say “I’ve never done that before…on camera.”
You were alluding to giving him a blowjob. It’s not like you haven’t given blowjobs to ex-boyfriends and casual hookups before. But this was different. You would be sucking off Eddie Munson- a man that’s probably received far too many blowjobs to count. He’s probably experienced some mind-blowing shit and there’s no way that you’d ever be able to compare to what other porn girls have been able to do to him with their mouths. You were embarrassed to even try.
“Sweetheart, I’m sure you’ll do just fine, trust me. I’m not picky.” He laughs “Blowjobs are like pizza. Even when it’s not the best pizza, it’s still good because it’s pizza. Not that I expect you to be bad or anything.”
“…I don’t know if that’s supposed to be encouraging or not.” You reply, starting to retreat back into your own head.
“Sweetheart, what I’m trying to say is that it’s going to be fine. Don’t think too much about it.”
“But how could I not think about it when-“
You were cut off by Eddie grabbing for your hand, squeezing it affectionately as he looked into your eyes.
“I thought said you trusted me.” He points out, raising an eyebrow at you.
“I do.” You reply hastily “I just-“
“Like I said, focus on feeling. When we get to that part, I just want you to focus on what feels right. Things will be fine. Honestly, there’s also nothing sexier than a girl that’s into it, y’know?” Eddie explains “You don’t have to be the best at something. It doesn’t matter. What matters is that you enjoy doing it and I want you to enjoy yourself. ‘Kay?”
“Okay.” You nod, letting his words sink in.
“Also, sweetheart, with lips like those, I’m sure you suck cock like a champ but I guess I’ll just have to wait to find out.”
Your heart skips a beat at his dirty confession and you almost think about smacking his arm before one of the production managers approaches you.
“You’re on in five.” They say “Start stripping down and we’ll get you on set.”
You felt your blood run cold.
“Hey,” Eddie whispers, voice low as he strokes your back with one of his large hands “If it gets to be too much just look at me, okay? I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here the entire time.”
You take a deep breath before nodding. Eddie gives your hand another squeeze before letting you walk to take your place on set. He had successfully gotten you out of your head even just a little bit. Now Eddie just had to get himself out of his own head about cumming too soon.
────────
Eddie stands back near the camera as the director calls action. He had been watching you like a hawk, eyes peeled for any sort of sense that you were beginning to panic. He stared as you dropped your robe, handing it off before gingerly taking a seat onto the black leather sofa.
“Alright, start off slow like you normally do. Take as much time as you need. Start off with slowly taking the panties off. We’ll do some light touching, maybe some fingering. Get yourself nice and ready then Eddie’s gonna come in and take care of you.”
Hearing those words immediately felt soothing to you.
You look over towards the camera and lock eyes with Eddie. He was right there like he told you he would be. He winks at you, setting off a flurry of butterflies in your stomach.
You began to follow directions, waiting for the director to give you the okay before you started. Then you began to do what felt right. Just like you were doing a solo masturbation scene. You began to touch and caress your body, getting yourself worked up as you got into the scene.
You began with your breasts, reaching your hands up as you began to knead them through the red lacy bra that you had chosen for this scene- something that made you feel sexy and confident. In your head you began to repeat it like a mantra.
You were sexy and confident.
You are sexy.
You are confident.
You could do this.
You push your tits together, thumbs rubbing over your nipples through the lace bra and you gasped at the feeling. You shut your eyes, allowing yourself to be in the moment and just feel. Just like Eddie had told you.
Eddie, on the other side of the set, was watching. His eyes were hyper-fixated on every little thing. The way your soft hands roamed your supple body and you tossed your head back in pleasure as you teased yourself. He was too far away but he was sure that you were letting out the tiniest little moans as you touched and squeezed and felt your sexy body with gentle hands.
Eddie had been halfway hard all morning but now his cock was starting to respond to every little thing you did. Every pinch, every grasp, every flick of your fingers against your tits. He could’ve sworn that it was starting to get hot in there and your bra wasn’t even off yet.
“Okay, honey, start to naturally drift down more. Get to the panties and take them off. We want it nice and slow, alright? Tease the camera.”
Tease the camera? Eddie definitely won’t be lasting long enough for the planned cum shot if you kept going on like that. But he didn’t dare say it out loud. He didn’t want to immediately gain a reputation for finishing fast even when he had so much pornographic proof out there that he wasn’t a fast shooter. You were the first girl in the industry that made him worry that he was going to finish in his pants as soon as he got a taste of you.
Nevertheless, your hands began to drag down, lower and lower until they reached the waistband of your panties. Red lace just like the bra. You didn’t even have to feel yourself to know that you were ready to go. You knew as soon as you had locked your eyes on Eddie from where he stood off-set that you were going to be drenched. But your right hand still delved into your panties, swiping at your folds as you felt just how wet you were.
Eddie watched, heart pounding as he stared at your hand down your little red panties-playing with your sopping wet core until you slowly removed your fingers. Drawing them out to reveal a thin coating of your arousal. Eddie’s breath hitched as your eyes bore into him. You were staring at him. Your gaze was locked in on him. All of this was for him.
You bring your slick fingers to your mouth, maintaining eye contact as you popped them into your mouth, sucking them nice and clean.
Fuck, you dirty girl….
Eddie’s dick begins to strain against his jeans at the action. God, was he ready to find out what you tasted like. He couldn’t take the teasing and direct eye-contact for much longer. He was so fucking ready for you.
Meeting the expectations of the director, you slip your thumbs into the waistband of your panties, seductively shimmying your hips as you pulled them down tantalizingly slow- agonizingly slow. Eddie watches with greedy eyes.
You laid back onto the sofa, panties wrapped around your thighs as you begin to lift your legs up, pulling the wet lacy fabric the rest of the way down your legs that were lifted slightly into the air- giving the camera a nice view of your pussy. Thighs pressed together in a way that had Eddie staring hungrily. He wanted so badly to sink down to his knees and hold those legs up like that as he ate you. The sight was mesmerizing.
After the lacy panties were off, you flung them across the set- right in Eddie's direction and he swore he saw a cute little smirk on your face when you did it. God, you were so naughty- and he was going to teach you a lesson.
"Okay, honey, now lay back on the couch. Spread your legs. Great! Perfect! Can we get some finger action in there?"
Eddie realizes just how well you follow directions as your body melts into the back of the couch, bringing your legs up onto it as you open them for the camera- spreading them open for everyone to see and, god, it was a fucking sight that was so fucking unholy. Yet, Eddie couldn't look away. Not when you were bare and spread out in front of him for his eyes to feast upon. That gorgeous body, those lace-clad tits, that glistening wet pussy. You were going to fucking kill him.
Just when he thought it couldn't get any hotter, you looked off near the camera- eyes trained on his as you used your fingers to spread yourself open for him. He could have passed out right there.
Fuck, he was really gonna give it to you.
He was going to devour every fucking inch of that tight little pussy until you were screaming. Fuck the cameras, fuck the scene, fuck everyone who was watching. They didn't matter. All that mattered was what he wanted to fucking do to you.
Your fingers began to tease your hole as you glided them up and down your slit. You were so fucking wet that it was making Eddie weak in the knees. Your sopping wet pussy was none other than a holy altar in which he wanted to bow down and worship. Eddie wasn't religious but you were a fucking goddess that he would devote his entire fucking life praying to if you let him.
You began to play with yourself, using your fingers to rub your needy little clit in slow circles. You threw your head back against the back of the sofa as you close your eyes. Focusing on feeling. Making yourself feel good. Getting yourself nice and wet for Eddie.
Eddie.
Eddie fucking Munson with his huge fucking cock and his soft-looking lips and those big brown eyes. How he made you feel. So cared for, so safe. Your fingers begin to work your clit a bit rougher. You had seen him on screen so many times fucking so many girls and now it was finally going to be you. His head between your thighs. His tongue in your folds. Sucking on your clit. It was getting you so fucking worked up.
You insert two fingers into your pussy as you begin to fuck them into yourself. You let your mind take over, moans tumbling from your lips as you try to fuck yourself with your fingers as deep as you can- wanting to hit that spot within yourself that had you curling your toes.
You shove them as deep as you go, trying to reach it but you just couldn’t. It felt like something was missing. But you kept trying. It felt good, of course it did, but you couldn’t help but feel like something was off. Like you were struggling. Now you were beginning to wonder if closing your eyes and thinking about Eddie was what did you in.
You had no issues in the past with using your fingers on yourself to get the relief you needed but now they just felt inadequate. As if they suddenly weren’t enough. It was so odd. Was Eddie jinxing you? Were you maybe more nervous than you originally thought? Were you-
“Alright, honey, how are we doing?” The director asks, bellowing out to you from behind the camera. “You look good, babe. Gorgeous. We’re going to add Eddie in. Are you ready?”
You look over at Eddie as he begins to strip off his shirt, his brown curls still tied back in a low bun. As he removes his t-shirt, you can’t help but stare- zoning in on his sexy, toned body. He was so fucking hot. Just when you thought you couldn’t be more turned on by him, he looks up at you- making sure that you were okay. That you were comfortable.
You both lock eyes, staring at each other with so much sexual tension that the whole room could probably feel it. You wanted Eddie Munson so bad- his body, his mouth, this hands touching all over you. You wanted him so bad that your body felt hot to the touch. He had been your industry crush for so long and now you were going to have his mouth on you- tasting you.
You give the director the okay, still spread out on the couch. As Eddie prepares to join you on-set, he can’t help the way that his eyes wander over your beautiful body. Your perky tits, your long legs, your pretty face, your sexy curves- but, most of all, your glistening wet sex. You were practically dripping with arousal as he shamelessly stared at you- the most gorgeous angel he’s ever laid eyes on. He hadn’t even gotten his mouth on you yet and he knew that he was in for trouble.
“Alright, you’re on.” The director nods towards him, giving Eddie his cue. It was the moment that he had been thinking about for hours.
His hardened cock was surely very noticeable beneath his black jeans. He could’ve sworn that there was so much blood rushing to his dick that he would pass out from the sheer lack of it being anywhere else in his body- and it was only getting worse with the way that you were looking at him. As if he were the most delectable man on the planet. Which, you would have to admit, was pretty accurate.
Your eyes stay glued to him and the pure fucking sex god that he is as he crosses onto the set, introducing himself to the scene. You loved the way that the black denim of his jeans hugged his waist. You loved the silver chain that dangled against his right hip as he strode over to you. You loved the soft tufts of dark hair that made up the happy trail leading down into the waistband of his pants. Eddie Munson was a fucking dream. He was a king- and you wanted to be his queen.
“Hey, you.” He whispers, eyes on you as he sinks down onto his knees in front of you “Doing okay? Not nervous?”
He was checking on you. Fuck, there was no way this man could be any hotter.
“I’m okay.” You whisper back “Just a little overwhelmed.”
The way that Eddie looked at you with those chocolate brown eyes made you want to melt.
“Yeah?” He asks, voice still low enough for only you to hear- sharing this intimate moment with you only.
“Just a little.” You answer. You were trying not to focus on your nerves but you could feel the space that they occupied in your body.
“Everything’s gonna be okay, sweetheart. Just close your eyes and relax. I’m here to take care of you.” He says, his eyes warm “Remember what I said? If it gets to be too much just focus on me. Just forget that anyone’s even here. Okay?”
“Okay.” You whisper back, staring at him as you nod.
“Good.” He says “Now, how can I help you get comfortable? What do you need? Hm?”
God, he was making you so wet…
“….I….I, uh, can you use-“ You immediately felt embarrassed, your face flushes as you try to look away from him.
“Hey, hey, hey…” He tsks “Eyes on me. Look at me, angel.” He reaches for you, taking your chin in-between his thumb and forefinger- guiding you to look at him. “Tell me what you want. It’s just you and me here. It’s just us. Okay?”
“Okay.” You bite your lip, nodding along.
“Say it.” He demands, maintaining eye contact “I want to hear you say it. Need to know that you’re with me. That it’s just me and you in this room right now. Nobody else. Just us, okay? Tell me.”
“I….It’s just us.” You breathe, your body feeling as if it were on fire from the intimacy “You and me. No one else.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. Just you and me. Now, tell me, what….do you….need?”
What did you need?
“You, Eddie. I need you.” You gasp lightly, causing his lips to form into a smirk.
“What do you need me to do?” He asks “Gotta use your words or I won’t be able to understand.”
“I want….I need you to kiss me. Please?”
Eddie lets of a short, low growl from the back of his throat as his hands fly to your waist, grasping tightly as he jerked you towards him- wanting you closer.
“C’mere, baby.” He rasps, straightening his body to become level with yours before he uses one of his large hands to grab the back of your neck- pulling you into a rough, hungry kiss that was so intense that it could have knocked the air out of you.
And Eddie fucking Munson was an amazing kisser.
The way that his lips slotted and molded against yours. The way that his mouth moved against yours as he nipped and licked and sucked at your bottom lip. The way that he slid his tongue into your mouth as if you belonged to him- causing you to want him to make you his.
You moaned into his mouth as his tongue fought for dominance against yours, taking your breath away with how desperate he was to kiss you harder and more passionately than he already was- if that were even possible.
How hands were all over. Grabbing your waist, his fingertips trailing up and down your back in delicate touches. The way that his thumb slipped underneath the clasp of your bra. He pulled his thumb back to stretch out the band then released it to let it snap back against your soft skin- earning him a surprised gasp.
He removes his lips from yours, beginning to pepper light kisses along your jawline before trailing his lips down your neck. You tilt your head back, giving him more access as he kisses down the column of your throat and then back up- working his way over until he began nibbling on your ear. You thought you were dreaming when he whispered in your ear.
“Can I take your tits out?”
You probably seemed needy and desperate as you fervently nodded your approval. You worried that you probably looked pathetic but, to Eddie, there was nothing hotter than seeing how worked up you were getting.
“P-please.” You mutter, voice coming out breathy and shaky.
“Mmm…good girl. Wanna look at those pretty tits when I fuck you with my fingers.”
You let out a startled squeak at his filthy works, causing him to grin.
“Fuck, sweetheart, does that turn you on? Listening to me tell you that I wanna put my fingers in you? Hm? That I wanna stuff you full?”
“Fuck, Eddie…” You moan.
“God, sweetheart, you’re already moaning my name and I haven’t even touched you yet. So needy for me. I fucking love it.”
He reaches both hands around to your bra clasp, expertly popping it open and removing it as if it were the easiest thing on earth. To him, it probably was. He’s probably taken off so many girl’s bras that he could do it with his eyes closed.
He pulled the bra off, taking it in his large hand before flinging it somewhere on the set. Not that it mattered. As hot as it was, it was getting in the way of what he really wanted. Your tits in his mouth.
“Mmm fuck, baby.” He groans, staring lovingly at your gorgeous chest- your hardened nipples. “You are so goddamn pretty, angel. So beautiful. Can I put my mouth on them?”
“Please.” You moan, arching your back in order to bring your tits closer to his face. Eddie chuckles at your eagerness.
“Shit, sweetheart.” He laughs “You want me to put them in my mouth? Yeah? These sweet fucking titties….”
He keeps one hand on your waist while the other snakes up to your chest, grabbing a handful of your boob as he squeezes it in his hand.
“So fucking soft, honey. So warm…..so perfect.” He teases, voice low and seductive. “Perfect little tits. Want me to put them in my face? Suck on your perky little nipples? Fuck, they’re so hard for me.”
You don’t know what came over you but you instinctively grasp at Eddie’s hand that was left grabbing your waist as you draw it up and onto your other breast, wanting him to have two handfuls of you.
“Look at you, sweet girl. You want both my hands paying attention to your tits? So bossy.” He tsks “Could’ve just asked. But that’s okay. I’m gonna give you what you want. But you’re gonna have to do something for me too.”
You look at him with curiosity in your eyes. You had no idea what he was going to ask you. Truth be told, it made you a little nervous.
“Since both my hands are full, sweetness, I’m gonna need you to use yours to play with your pussy for me. Think you can do that for me? Hm?”
Fuck
You stare at him as he surveys your body, now fully nude in front of him. God, you were a beautiful sight.
“Okay.” You squeak out, nodding your head.
“Atta girl.” He whispers “That’s my good girl. Now start rubbing your clit.”
────────
To Be Continued…
A/N: Hope you enjoyed part one. Sorry that I cut it short, I didn’t want to make the fic too long and I also wanted to get it out before I left for vacation next week. I feel like I’ve already held this back from you all long enough. Please excuse any spelling errors. I’ll go back and edit later
It's my best friends birthday tomorrow. She's turning 20. I've known her practically my entire life. We've been friends since we were like 4. And for every birthday that we've known each other we've always seen each other. When we were little, it was a birthday party and a sleepover afterwards, and after we both reached about 13, it was just sleepovers. Sometimes, we attended each other's birthday dinners with family.
Earlier this month, she was taken to the hospital and then admitted to the ICU. She had a lung collapse, her pancreas was in narcosis, and she's suffering from a gallstone issue. Her resting heart rate has been at 130 instead of the 60-100 it's supposed to be. 3 days ago, they had to sedate her and place her on a ventilator. She's in a medically induced coma.
Normally, when I'm upset, I can call or text her, and we'd talk about how I'm feeling and break it down and work things out together. She's in the hospital, and the reason I'm upset, but I feel like she's the only person that I could talk to. It fucking sucks. We're 20, we are supposed to be worrying about college and grades and our future careers but now I'm worried if I have to write a eulogy for my bestfriend.
It's my best friends birthday tomorrow. She's turning 20. I've known her practically my entire life. We've been friends since we were like 4. And for every birthday that we've known each other we've always seen each other. When we were little, it was a birthday party and a sleepover afterwards, and after we both reached about 13, it was just sleepovers. Sometimes, we attended each other's birthday dinners with family.
Earlier this month, she was taken to the hospital and then admitted to the ICU. She had a lung collapse, her pancreas was in narcosis, and she's suffering from a gallstone issue. Her resting heart rate has been at 130 instead of the 60-100 it's supposed to be. 3 days ago, they had to sedate her and place her on a ventilator. She's in a medically induced coma.
Normally, when I'm upset, I can call or text her, and we'd talk about how I'm feeling and break it down and work things out together. She's in the hospital, and the reason I'm upset, but I feel like she's the only person that I could talk to. It fucking sucks. We're 20, we are supposed to be worrying about college and grades and our future careers but now I'm worried if I have to write a eulogy for my bestfriend.
Pairing: Baby Daddy!Eddie Munson x Pregnant!Reader
Summary: After a heated one-time hookup, you find yourself pregnant by none other than your best friend Eddie Munson.
Content Warning: 18+ Smut, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Digital Penetration (Fingering), Oral (F receiving), Oral (M receiving), Sexual Acts, Slight-Voyeurism/Public-Sex, Sexual/Suggestive Language, Foul Language/Swearing, Mentions of Abortion, Attempted Abortion, Pregnancy (obviously), Quasi-Cheating (Sort of?), Messy Love Triangle (I guess?), Slight ED (Eddie can’t get it up), Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Co-Parenting, Mentions of Toxic Relationships (On Again, Off Again), Slight Betrayal (Eddie Being an Idiot), Slight Angst, Slight Slut-Shaming (Not Reader), Vomiting, Violence, Slight Gore.
A/N: Content warning tags are for the series storyline as a whole and may not show up in every chapter. Just want to cover all my bases.
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6 Weeks
Eddie fucking Munson and that dreaded fucking ponytail.
You told yourself over and over again that this couldn't be happening. That it wasn't happening. But, oh, was it happening. The two bold pink lines on the end of the pregnancy test confirmed it. Pregnant. With Eddie Munson's little fucking demon seed. How could you let this happen? Oh, right. You knew exactly how this happened. You remembered every little detail of it. All of it.
You remembered how you cried out in pleasure against his lips as you climaxed. You remembered the way you yanked on that godforsaken fucking ponytail, using it as a rein as he went down on you. You remembered the sweet little grunts he made as he pounded you relentlessly into your mattress- talking you through your orgasm like it was the biggest achievement of his fucking life. How he had gasped loudly as he spilled deep inside of you. Well, you thought, now you have a souvenir.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
No, you thought, shaking your head. It was all a sick fucking joke. You could not be pregnant with your best friend's baby. You absolutely did not have rebound sex with him after Chrissy Cunningham dumped him cold on Valentine's Day. Just for her to take him back not even three days later. But that was all just wishful thinking. Because it was true. All of it.
Okay, it was definitely far too late for Plan B. The baby was already conceived. There was no changing that. Dear god, why didn't you use a condom? Eddie's words immediately come back to you, echoing in your head from that night.
"Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good..."
It was enough for you to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in to sink further into you- his body shivering at the action.
"Fuck! Never felt something so tight. Christ, don't make me pull out. Please."
And, like the idiot you were, you ate it up. Listening to his needy whines and moans as you reveled in his dirty little praises.
"So fucking tight, baby. So fucking wet for me. Tell me you're wet for me."
"Yes, Eddie! S-so wet for you. Only you. Want you to fuck me harder!"
“Yeah? Is that how you like it, sweetheart? Nice and rough? Huh? Say it for me…”
You thought back on how he had shown up on Valentines night with a bouquet of wilted red roses in his hand. His hair pulled back in that ponytail that made you weak in the knees. He was in a crisp black button down shirt. One that was ironed. His nicest pair of black jeans. He was wearing cologne for god’s sake. You had a harmless little crush on Eddie since the 7th grade but seeing the way he looked on your doorstep caused it to turn into a full-blown frenzy.
Before you could ask him what he was doing there and not at Enzo’s sitting across from his girlfriend Chrissy Cunningham at a romantic dinner for two, he was already storming past you and into your apartment- slumping down onto your couch.
“Well, that was a fucking disaster.” He announces, tossing the bouquet onto the coffee table.
“What happened?” You ask, watching the scowl on Eddie’s face as you followed him back into your living room.
“Well,” Eddie sighed, burying his face in his hands “She dumped me. Again.”
“What?” You ask “Why?”
“I don’t even know anymore. Something about me never taking her seriously. Never being serious. She’s been this way ever since The Hideout thing last week.”
Right, you remembered. The girl at The Hideout who was all over Eddie- who was too drunk to push her away. It had been a whole scene. Chrissy saw the way that the girl relentlessly flirted with Eddie while he did nothing to stop it. To be fair, Eddie was so oblivious that he didn’t even know that the girl was flirting with him. Not until Chrissy had decided she had enough and stormed out of the bar.
“How was I supposed to know that girl was trying to fuck me?” Eddie throws up his hands in exasperation “I’m still surprised that Chrissy wants to fuck me and we’ve been dating for over a year now.”
“I mean, that girl was coming onto you pretty hard.” You admit, earning you an incredulous look from Eddie “Don’t give me that look! I’m not saying that I’m on Chrissy’s side. I just don’t know how you missed the hint when that girl did everything but pounce on you.”
“Whatever.” Eddie grumbles “My point is that I always do something wrong even when I don’t do anything at all. I just don’t know what she wants from me.”
“I’m sorry, Eds.” You commiserate, walking over and plopping down on the couch next to him “I’m sure she’ll be over it soon. She usually doesn’t stay angry for long, right?”
“I just….” Eddie groans “I’m starting to wonder if I even want this anymore.”
“Whoa.” You reply, completely taken aback “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I…fuck, I don’t know.” Eddie mutters “Chrissy used to be fun. Don’t get me wrong, I love her, but the last few months have felt like….I just don’t know if I’m happy anymore.”
“Are you saying that you want to break up with her?” Your heart beats fast in your chest at his admission. You liked Chrissy. You really did. But you couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief upon hearing that Eddie was growing bored of her. You’d never admit it but you were jealous of Chrissy. You were envious of her for having the boy that you’ve loved since the 7th grade.
“Well, I mean, she kinda already did it for me.” Eddie scoffs “But maybe this time I won’t chase after her. Not when I don’t even know if it’s worth it anymore.”
“I’m sorry, Eds.” You frown, your heart breaking at how defeated he was “Is there anything I can do to help?”
“You can distract me.” He suggests “Keep my mind off of her. Getting dumped on Valentine’s Day is kinda fuckin’ embarrassing.”
“Okay.” You nod, biting your lip “Do you…wanna watch a movie? Or something?”
“Sure.” Eddie looks at you, a soft closed-lip smile spreading across his face “Yeah. That sounds nice. I could use some snuggles from my favorite lady.”
The admission leaves your cheeks blazing as you watch Eddie kick off his boots, resting his feet on your coffee table.
“So, uh, what do you wanna watch?” You stammer, trying to look away from him as he unknowingly lounges in front of you like the Sex God that he was. Not that you would know. Well, not from experience. However, you have heard several rumors throughout the years.
“Lady’s choice.” He replies “Pick whatever you want.”
Eddie watches you as you walk over to your stack of VHS tapes, flipping through them until you found something you wanted to watch. Since it was Valentine’s Day and you were such a hopeless romantic, you had picked Breakfast at Tiffany’s.
Eddie, however, wishes that you hadn’t picked so quickly. Not when he wanted to enjoy the view of you a little longer- kneeling down on the floor in front of your television stand, bending a little to read the titles on the low shelf as those teeny tiny little shorts of yours rode up little-by-little. Exposing the bottom of your ass enough to cause him to stifle his hungry groans.
“Got it!” You announce, waving the VHS tape in the air triumphantly “This okay?” You ask.
Eddie nods, not caring about whatever chick-flick that you planned to pop in the VCR. Not that he’d be paying much attention to it with you curled up next to him dressed like that. Sexy little hotpants that stretched tightly across your ass. Black tank top with no bra on underneath. He hoped that he’d at least be able to control himself enough to not allow a certain guest to make a surprise appearance.
You run to your room and grab a blanket, flipping off the living room lights before joining Eddie on the couch. You sat a good distance away. Maybe five inches on so apart. Not far but not close enough for Eddie to be satisfied- and he noticed immediately.
“What are you doing all the way over there?” He asks, furrowing is eyebrows as you tuck your legs underneath you on the couch.
“C’mere. I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.” He jokes.
But that was Eddie. Always joking even though you wished he wasn’t. It was cruel. Not that it was his fault, he didn’t know the way that you felt but his innocent flirting definitely didn’t help the horrible crush you had on him. The fact that he belonged to someone else.
“Ha.” You reply, rolling your eyes at him as your lips curl into a smile “Funny.”
“I’m not joking, sweetheart. Come over here. I’m lonely.” He pleads “So, so lonely. How could you leave me over here all alone and cold?”
You shake your head, rolling your eyes. If there was anything to be said about Eddie, it was that he was definitely dramatic.
You scoot closer, now only two inches apart but that still wasn’t enough. He wanted you closer. Eddie would never admit it, especially when he had only been dumped by his girlfriend an hour earlier, but he would have you in his lap if it were up to him.
With an impatient huff, he throws his left around you, moving it down to your waist so they he could draw you closer. Without warning, he tugs you closer, causing you to tip over- falling into his side as his arm clutched your waist. Your breath almost hitches as his thumb begins to rub against your waist, right above your hip.
“There.” He smirks “Much better.”
You felt like you had a lump in your throat as you swallow nervously, letting your body adjust against his so that you were nestled up against him- your head resting against his chest. You had cuddled with Eddie before- it wasn’t something new. However, this time, something felt different. Unlike all of the other times where you innocently huddled up close to him as you let your body relax- something about this cuddle session held tension. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it.
Maybe you were overthinking things. Maybe this was just like every other time but it was you who was making it weird. You worried that Eddie could sense it- your nervousness. As the movie starts, you turn your head to look up at him. His eyes were on the TV, absent-mindedly tracing circles into your skin that his thumb was rubbing against. He seemed unfazed. Just like every other time you’ve shared a friendly cuddle. Maybe it was you.
You let your body relax, choosing to switch off your mind as you melt into him. You even nuzzle the side of your face into his chest as you allow yourself to get more comfortable. Before you know it, your hand is creeping up to his chest- resting your palm there before you absentmindedly stroke the fabric of his shirt with your finger.
“This looks nice on you, by the way.” You whisper, your eyes zoning in on the opening credits as Audrey Hepburn stands in front of a shop window- peering at a display full of diamonds.
“Yeah?” Eddie mutters, turning his head to look down at you as you watch the movie.
“Mhm.” You hum “You smell nice too. New cologne?”
“Yeah.” Eddie answers “Bought it for the occasion. Y’know, before I got dumped.”
“Well,” you reply quietly “Chrissy Cunningham doesn’t know what she’s missing.”
And how could Eddie argue with that? Maybe Chrissy was missing out. But then again, if she hadn’t broken up with him tonight, would he be here right now with you? Snuggled up close on your couch as he indulged himself in the lingering sweet scent of your shampoo. He doubts it. In a way, he’s kind of glad. At least, with you, he didn’t have to sit up straight at a dinner table as he pretended to be civilized- eating over-priced food. Then it hit him. What the hell were you doing all by yourself on Valentine’s Day?
“Sweetheart?” Eddie whispers, turning his head to bury his nose in your hair. Strawberry shampoo. With hints of that vanilla scented body wash that he sometimes used when he showered at your place. Which wasn’t often. Maybe only once or twice. Yet, he couldn’t help but remember how the scent lingered on his skin the rest of the day- catching whiffs of himself that made his eyes flutter shut as if he were smelling you.
“Hm?” You answer, transfixed on the movie even though you’ve seen it a million times.
“You didn’t go out tonight?”
The question pulled your attention.
“Uh-uh.” You answer, Eddie noting how your voice carried a hint of disappointment “No date.”
“Why not?” He further interrogates “What about that guy? The one with the-“
“David?”
“Yeah.” Eddie replies, hoping that you couldn’t sense him scowling “Him. What happened to him?”
“I don’t know.” You sigh “Just didn’t work out, I guess. He asked if we could ‘still be friends’”
“Are you still friends?”
“Fuck no.” You reply, causing Eddie to snort out a laugh.
“Well, his loss.” He declares “Darryl doesn’t know what the fuck he’s missing.”
“David.” You correct, giggling against Eddie’s chest- causing him to smile.
“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”
You both fall silent, focusing again on the movie as the scene of Holly’s party plays out on the screen. You watch the way that Paul Varjak looks at Holly- like she had hung the moon and the stars herself. You couldn’t help but wonder when you would find a man that looked at you like that. A distant dream that felt so far away. You were tired of being the single friend.
Nancy had Jonathan. There was El and Mike. Max and Lucas. Even Dustin had a girlfriend that he met at Camp Know Where. Then there was Robin who was hopelessly in love with Vicki. Steve technically was single but he often kept a string of girls behind him- a new flavor of the week. Lastly there was Eddie and Chrissy. High school sweethearts that seemed to constantly be on the rocks but at least he had someone. You were the odd one out.
You tried not to let it get to you but by the time that the scene of Holly Golightly singing Moon River on the fire escape started to play, you were on the brink of bawling your eyes out. You held in your sobs, trying not to let your body shake as you laid against Eddie. Why the hell did you have to pick a romance? You should’ve just popped in Grease. Or The Karate Kid.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hey. Are you crying?” Eddie looks down, feeling the wetness of your tears through his shirt.
“No…” You lie, a sob escaping your lips.
Well, you thought, so much for that.
“What’s going on? Why are you crying?” Eddie questions, his brows pinched with worry as he turns to look at you “Speak to me, sweetheart.”
“I- I’m fine.” You hiccup “I don’t wanna talk about it. It’s embarrassing.”
“What’s embarrassing? I can’t help if you don’t talk to me.”
Oh, Eddie. Always wanting to help even though there was nothing that he could do about the way that you were feeling. It was something he just couldn’t fix.
“It’s fine. I’m fine.” You sniff “Let’s just finish the movie.”
“Fuck the movie, sweetheart.” Eddie says “Talk to me. Is it something that I did? Did I say something to upset you? Was it….fuck…is it because I brought up Devon?”
“David.” You sob “No, it’s not that. Well, I mean…sort of. I…can we just drop it? I don’t even know why I’m crying. This is so stupid.”
“S’not stupid.” Eddie counters, getting up from the couch so that he could kneel on the floor in front of you, preventing you for turning away and hiding from him. “Please tell me what’s wrong? Maybe I can fix it?”
“No!” You wail “You can’t fix it!”
“I can’t if I don’t know what it is.” Eddie argues, reaching for your hand as takes it in both of his, bringing it to his lips as he presses a kiss to it.
“Tell me what’s wrong?”
If only Eddie knew that he would be spending his Valentine’s Day- supposedly the most “romantic”day of the year- trying to figure out why seemingly every woman in his life was upset with him. What a fucking day.
“I don’t want to be alone.” You cry, launching forward to bury your face into Eddie’s chest- sobbing uncontrollably.
Fuck, Eddie thought.
“What?” He asks, trying to figure out what you were talking about “Sweetheart, you’re not alone. I’m right here.”
“No, that’s not what I’m saying!” You whine “I’m tired of being single. I’m tired of dating around. I’m tired of not having someone who loves me.”
“What are you talking about?” Eddie shakes his head, confused. “I love you.”
“Yeah,” you snivel “But not like that. Not the way that Robin loves Vicki. How Nancy and Jonathan love each other. Not the way that you love Chrissy.”
“Oh.” Eddie replies, completely dumbfounded.
“I just don’t get it. Am I unlovable? I go on all these dates and just…nothing. Things just end badly or they just stop talking to me. It’s like…there’s something wrong with me.”
“Hey! Stop that.” Eddie orders, grabbing your face in his hands as he forces you to look at him “You don’t say shit like that. There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing. You hear me?”
“But what if-“
Your objection was immediately stolen by Eddie pressing his lips against yours. Crashing into you hard enough to jolt you backwards- leaving you completely stunned. Eddie was kissing you. Your best friend’s lips were on your lips and you swore that your body was going haywire.
It ended as quickly as it happened, leaving you reeling as you stared back at him- unblinking. Eddie stared back at you, wondering why in the hell he had just kissed you. Friends don’t kiss friends. Not even best friends. Especially not when one of them was going through a fresh breakup and the other was emotionally vulnerable. What the fuck was he thinking?
“Shit.” Eddie panics “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-“
“It’s okay.” You cut him off, averting eye contact “We’ll just pretend it didn’t happen.”
As soon as you suggested it, Eddie’s heart sank. What if he didn’t want to pretend that it didn’t happen?
“Yeah. Right.” He stammers “You’re right.”
A moment passes where the two of you just stared back at each other, not knowing where to go from there. Yet, the both of you felt an unbearable tension. Something electric between you. You open your mouth to speak, Eddie watching your lips part and it felt like something within him finally snaps. You could sense it.
“Fuck it.” He breaks, his body colliding into yours as he kisses you again- hard and fast. He groans against your mouth, guttural and animalistic. His hands were everywhere. He didn’t know what to do with them so they were everywhere. Grabbing, kneading, stroking, caressing. Every inch of you that he could get ahold of.
He wastes no time deepening the kiss, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip as you allow him access- his tongue quickly dominating yours as he makes out with you. Eddie clearly knew how to kiss. You, on the other hand, still felt like you were in shock- your hands placed hesitantly on each of his biceps as he attacked your mouth, grabbing the back of your neck to kiss you even deeper. As if he wasn’t close enough- as if he wanted to be skin-to-skin with you. Without warning, he pulls away, just for a moment.
“Touch me.” He pants.
“W-what?” You stutter, watching him eye you down with a hungry glare.
“Fuck, sweetheart.” He growls “Put your arms around my neck, grab my shirt, pull my fucking hair if you want. Just give me something.” He urges.
He grabs at your wrists, bringing them up to wrap around his neck as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in to devour your lips once again.
You grab onto the hair at the nape of his neck, daring to get a bit rougher with him. The action immediately earns you a low growl. The sound ripped right through you, immediately making you wet as you yanked him closer to you.
“There she is,” He smirks against your lips “Atta girl.”
The praise leaves you breathless, going straight to your heat as you ball up the fabric of his shirt in your hands. He works his lips against your mouth as if he’s in heat. Hungry and desperate for you. He nips at your bottom lip, eliciting sweet moans from you that go straight to his dick. His member stirring beneath the fabric of his jeans. Without hesitation, he grabs one of your hands- taking it in his as he places it over his hardening cock. He smirks as you let out a startled gasp.
“Feel that?” He asks, voice low and gravelly “If there was something wrong with you, do you think I’d be this hard for you right now?”
“Eddie.” You gasp, shocked at the filthy words leaving his lips. Have you heard Eddie say pervy things before? Of course. You had been there through his years of puberty. But never had you thought in your life that you would hear him say such vulgar things to you.
“What, angel?” He coos “Gonna be shy now? Hm? Or are you gonna let me fuck you properly?”
“Eds,” you moan “We can’t. What about-“
“What?” He asks, his eyes dark with lust. His eyes consuming you to the point of you almost losing your train of thought.
“Chrissy.” You drop.
Fuck, Eddie thought.
Chrissy.
You stood in your bathroom, wondering who to call. What to do. You felt helpless as you continued to stare down at those two pink lines. How the hell did you let this happen? With Eddie of all people. Eddie- your best friend. Eddie- who had a girlfriend. A serious girlfriend.
You started to feel sick to your stomach. A different kind of sick than the “stomach bug” that you foolishly thought you had- the illness that turned out to be morning sickness all along.
The very little amount of food that you happened to get down that morning begins to roil in your stomach. You try to breathe deeply through your nose. In….then out….in….then out.
Fuck.
You scramble to the toilet, dropping down beside it as you begin to vomit, spewing out everything in your system. You wretch so hard that your body jolts, leaving you gripping the sides of the toilet as you heave into it.
Fucking Eddie. That stupid fucking bastard and his stupidly hot ponytail. Fuck Valentine’s Day. Fuck the way that he made you feel that night just to throw you aside and pretend it never happened.
“You’re not mad, are you?”
“No, Eds.” You lied “I’m not mad.”
“It’s just…Chrissy and I have been together for so long and I just don’t know if I can throw all that away, y’know?” He wrings his hands “I also don’t want to lose you by making things complicated. I just think that….it’s best we stay friends.”
“Sure. Yeah.”
“Good. I’m glad you understand where I’m coming from.” He breathes a sigh of relief “You also deserve the best, y’know. Which would be, like, the opposite of me and I wouldn’t want to be in the way of you finally finding someone who’s good for you….”
All of that, you thought, was just an excuse for him to get off scot-free after having sex with you and not giving you any sort of commitment in return. What a fucking idiot you were. You were used to guys doing shit like this- using you to get what they want and then promptly tossing you aside. But you never would’ve expected this from Eddie.
Eddie.
The reminder of weekly movie night at Steve’s house caused you to groan. You had already skipped the last two, citing your mystery stomach bug as your excuse for missing out. You knew how it would look if you didn’t show up again three weeks in a row. As much as you didn’t want to see Eddie right now, you knew that you couldn’t dodge him any longer before he started showing up at your door expecting an explanation. So, you decided, you would sit through movie night.
You would pretend that everything was okay. That you were totally and completely normal. That you weren’t pregnant with Eddie’s baby as he was snuggled up next to Chrissy only a few feet away from you. You would pretend that you weren’t internally agonizing over what you were going to do. You would pretend that nothing bothered you. That everything was just how it should be even through life as you knew it was starting to crumble down around you.
It had been about a month and a half since Valentine’s Day. You would be lying if you said that you weren’t hurt. You were extremely hurt. You let Eddie inside of you. You let him hold you close and touch your body and gave him a very intimate piece of yourself that you’d never get back. Now there was a piece of him that he left behind- growing within you.
You pick yourself up off of the bathroom floor, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you flush the toilet. Walking to the sink, you turned on the tap- cupping your hands to gather water as you splash your face. You open your eyes, staring at yourself in the mirror as your reflection stared back. You looked like yourself on the outside but you felt wholly and completely changed on the inside.
You sit down onto the cold tiled floor, leaning your back against the wall as you think of the nearest urgent care facility and how late they were open. You needed to at least have the pregnancy confirmed by a doctor before you made your next decisions. Whatever they would turn out to be.
Eddie knew he wasn’t in the right state of mind, thinking completely with his dick and not with his head. He knew that he shouldn’t be doing this but he couldn’t help himself. He had gotten a taste of the forbidden fruit that was you and he couldn’t pull himself away now. Not even at the thought of his now-ex-girlfriend.
Chrissy
“I don’t wanna think about that right now.” He whispers, sending a shiver down your spine “Just wanna feel you.”
You lunge for him, pressing your body against his. You spread your legs, allowing Eddie to kneel between them as you made out with him- grabbing at your thighs. Your hand snakes up to tug at his ponytail, earning a low chuckle from Eddie.
“Love it when you wear your hair up.” You admit, between heated kisses.
“Yeah?” He teases “Like what you see?”
“God yes…” you moan.
He breaks away from kissing your lips to move along to planting hot, open-mouthed kisses to your neck- immediately sending a tidal wave of pleasure throughout your body.
“Fuck, Eds.” You squeal, mind completely going blank as you became jelly beneath his touch “I-I love the way you kiss me.”
“Yeah? You like that, baby?” He replies, his voice hot “I’m gonna do more than just kiss you.”
Before you could even catch your breath, Eddie had scooped you up off of the couch- his large hands grabbing at your ass as he held you. You waste no time wrapping your arms and legs around him as he carries you towards your bedroom.
“Fuck, you’re so hot!” Eddie groans, carrying you through the threshold of your bedroom “So fucking hot. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
“I- I want you Eddie. Please.”
“You want me to what? Use your words, angel.”
“Want you to fuck me, Eds. Want you to make me feel good.”
“Yeah?” He purrs “Well, since you asked so damn nicely.”
Eddie drops you onto your bed, your back hitting the soft mattress beneath you as Eddie kneels between your legs, spreading them open for himself.
“God, you’re fucking perfect. Bet your pussy is just as pretty as you are, huh?” His eyes full of sex and sin “Gonna let me find out, sweetheart?”
You sat nervously in the urgent care waiting room, anxiously tapping your pen against the clipboard holding the paperwork you were too distracted to fill out.
You glance around the waiting room, taking in the many colorful posters on the walls that advertised the dangers of tobacco use, proper handwashing technique, and how to stop the spread of germs.
What the fuck were you going to do?
Best case scenario; It was a false positive. Worst case scenario; You would have to make the hard decision of what would be the fate of you and the baby growing inside of you. Did you even want to have a baby? Did you want to have kids at all? Were you prepared to raise another human and become responsible for how they turn out?
Were you going to keep it?
Were you ready to be a single mom?
Were you going to tell Eddie?
“Can I take these off?”
Eddie glanced up at you from between your legs, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your shorts.
Those teeny,
Tiny
Shorts.
“Yes.” You whisper “Please.”
Eddie hums appreciatively at your words.
“Atta girl. Such good manners.”
He begins to pull your shorts down, dragging your panties off with them. Part of you felt self-conscious that you hadn’t worn the sexiest pair of underwear. To be fair, you weren’t expecting this to happen- ever. However, Eddie couldn’t care less- his eyes glued on your core that was slick and glistening with your arousal.
“Fuck, baby.” He groans “All of that for me?”
You nod bashfully as he bites his lip.
“God, I wanna taste you. S’that okay, sweetheart? Can I go down on you?”
“Please, Eds.” You moan “Been waiting for this.”
This peaks his interest, his eyes locking onto yours.
“You have, huh?” He smirks “You’ve thought about this before?”
You felt like you wanted to hide under the covers and disappear. Why the fuck would you say that?
You reach for the pillow next to your head, using it to cover your face that was burning with embarrassment.
“Hey,” Eddie calls, squeezing your thigh affectionately “Don’t hide from me. I think it’s hot. Really fucking hot. Tell me what you think about.” He grabs the pillow from you, tossing it out of your reach as he stares down at you- waiting to hear an answer.
“I, uh…..I think about you. Going down on me.”
“Yeah?” Eddie whispers, his voice dripping with lust “Tell me more.”
“You’re..uh…fuck….you’re using your tongue on me. Licking me…slowly.”
“Is that so?” Eddie smirks.
“Yes.”
Eddie grabs your legs, hitching them both over his shoulders as he lowers his head into your cunt, licking a slow broad stripe upwards until he reaches your clit. It had been so long since you’ve last been touched and your eyes practically roll into the back of your head.
“Like that?” He asks, feigning innocence as if he didn’t have his face in your crotch.
“Y-yeah.” You stutter “That feels so good.”
He begins to dive back into your core, repeating his actions before moving to pay more attention to your clit.
“Keep talking to me, sweet thing.” He mumbles against you “Be a good girl and tell me what you want.”
“F-fuck!” You breathe, back arching off the mattress as he gently nips at your clit- sending shocks of pleasure through your body “Just like that. Keep going. I…I’m gonna come if you keep doing that.”
“Already?” Eddie teases “Baby, I’ve barely even started.”
He removes his right hand from where it was squeezing your thigh, bringing it to your core as he places his thumb roughly onto your clit. Without warning, he begins to rub it in tantalizing little circles that had you moaning like crazy.
“Holy fucking shit!” You squeak, your hand shooting down to wrap around Eddie’s wrist “Eds!”
“Too much? Want me to stop?”
“No!” You yelp “Don’t stop.”
“Whatever you say, sweet girl.” Eddie replies with a grin “Think you can take my fingers?”
“Congratulations.” The doctor says, smiling up at you from your test results “You’re definitely pregnant.”
You felt like the room was spinning. Suddenly, the only thing that you could focus on to avoid passing out was a box of tissues next to the exam table. Pregnant. It was confirmed. You were actually pregnant.
“How are you feeling?” The doctor asks, picking up on your lackluster reaction.
“Oh. I…I think I’m still in shock. A little. I…don’t know how I feel. I’m on the pill. I just…I don’t know how this could’ve happened.
“Well,” the doctor replies “I suppose that’s a pretty fair reaction. It’s pretty big news- a baby on the way. As for the birth control, it’s not a common occurrence but we have seen instances where women can still get pregnant while actively taking birth control. The most common reason is when you may have missed a pill or two. Do you think this could be a possibility?”
You had thought about how you had misplaced your pill pack right around the same time that you had sex with Eddie- needing to call your clinic for an early refill. But you had picked up your prescription only a day or two afterwards. Could you have gotten pregnant within that small 24-48 hour window?
“I did miss a couple. I thought it would be okay if I doubled up the dose the day after to make up for it. I thought…” Your brain felt foggy.
“In most cases this is possible but it depends on the type of birth control pill you’re taking. Sperm can live in the vagina for up to five days. Obviously, the chances of getting pregnant are the highest during the first twenty-four hours after sex. But even with the chances of pregnancy decreasing with each passing day, it is still possible to conceive. In your case, it seems, that you were able to get pregnant during the time period where you had missed those pills.”
“And you’re absolutely sure?” You question “ That I’m pregnant?”
“No doubt about it. Blood tests are over 99% accurate. However, there have been instances of false positives but they’re extremely rare.”
Everything the doctor said to you after that point was only caught in bits and pieces- feeling like you were listening to him speak from underwater. Ninety-nine percent accuracy was practically inarguable. You were having a baby.
“…..A good prenatal vitamin in your daily routine is what would be best for your baby…..”
You were having a baby.
“…..Morning sickness is to be expected during the first trimester. Just make sure you….”
There was a baby growing inside of you.
“…….I’ll give you some referrals for obstetricians. First course of action would be setting up an appointment in order to find out how far along you are…..
You were going to be a parent.
“…..Your due date and first ultrasound….”
You didn’t know if you could handle this. A single mom with no help. Raising a child on your own.
“……And I wish you the best of luck. If there’s anything you need or if you have any questions, the nurses are more than willing to help….”
The next time that you finally return to reality, you are standing outside of the urgent care entrance- a pamphlet in your hand titled “Your Baby and You: What to Expect in your First Pregnancy.” In your pocket was a phone number for a local ob/gyn clinic. In your heart was fear and uncertainty. Where do you go from here?
“Fuck, Eddie! Oh my god!”
You were on the brink of orgasm as he curled his fingers inside of you, his tongue working at your clit as you fisted the sheets below you. He would have been knuckles-deep inside of you if it wasn’t for the thick silver rings adorning his digits. Every time you felt the cool metal rub against your clit, you swore you were going to lose it.
“That feel good, sweetheart?” He asks, his tone teasing.
“So fucking good!” You moan “I’m getting close!”
“Yeah?” Eddie asks, looking up at you with eyes that felt like they could suck you in and devour you whole. All you could do was nod desperately.
“Let’s get you there, princess.” He winks, his head ducking back down as he takes your clit in his mouth, sucking harshly as your body jolted.
“Holy shit! Eds! Oh my god!” You cry out.
Before you could stop yourself, one of your hands flies up to grab at his ponytail- greedily pushing his head further into your cunt. Eddie growls at the action. He ruts against the mattress, trying desperately to gain some friction. He was so painfully hard from all of the pretty sounds that you were making for him. The fact that his face was buried in your pussy that tasted like heaven on earth. The sheer knowledge that he was fucking you- his best friend. It was all so forbidden but so fucking sexy.
Eddie strains against your grip on the back of his head as he comes up for air.
“Jesus fucking Christ, sweetheart. You taste so fucking good. So sweet. Best I’ve ever tasted.”
Eddie didn’t even know what he was saying. His mouth began babbling and he couldn’t stop.
“God, I love eating you out. Drenching my fucking face with this pretty little pussy of yours. Making me taste you.”
“Fuck.” You sob, feeling the mounting pressure of your oncoming orgasm “Keep going, Eds. I’m gonna fucking come.”
“You like it when I talk to you like this?” Eddie tsks, flirting with you “Y’know, I never would’ve guessed you’d be such a dirty girl in bed. Show me how dirty you can be. Grab my hair again, sweetheart. Grind against me. Fucking use me.”
You fist his ponytail, shoving his head down into you as you arch your back off of the mattress, bringing yourself closer to him as you begin to grind your wet heat against his face, chasing your high. It was coming towards you like a freight train. You rubbed down hard against his tongue, your pants picking up as you work for it. The pressure building up more. And more. And more. Until a tingling feeling intense pleasure washes over you.
“Shit! Fuck! I’m coming! Oh my god, I’m coming!”
You walked down to the nearest pay phone from the urgent care, immediately reaching for the phone book. You open it to the yellow pages, flipping through until you found the section that you were looking for; Family Planning Services. You ran your finger down the text as your eyes skimmed over what you were looking for. There it was.
You pick up the receiver, pulling some change out of your purse as you feed the coin slot enough currency to make a call, you dial the number- waiting as it rang. With each ring, your hand gripped the phone tighter- thinking about what you should say. What they would say to you. If they’d immediately know what it was that you were calling for before you even had to utter the heavy three-syllable word. Just when you thought you were about to chicken out, your ears were filled with the tinny cheerful voice on the other side of the line.
“Thank you for calling Planned Parenthood! How may I help you?”
You breathe deeply. In…then out. You swallow the nervous lump in your throat.
“Hi, I’d like to make an appointment, please.”
"God, angel. You did so good for me."
Your head was spinning as you try and catch your breath, releasing your grip on his hair.
“Doing okay up there?” Eddie asks, peering up at you as he takes in your blissed out face.
“More than okay.” You hum, causing Eddie to smile.
“Ready for more, sweet thing?” He asks, bringing your legs down from his shoulders- moving up your body to press a kiss to your lips. You could taste yourself on his mouth. The “best he’s ever tasted.” You’re sure he’s said that to every girl he’s fucked. Even Chrissy.
His body stiffens, immediately sensing your apprehension once his girlfriend- ex-girlfriend?- popped into your mind.
“Hey, you okay?” He asks, searching your face for signs of uncertainty “We don’t have to do this. We can stop.”
“N-no,” you shake your head, trying to forget about the girl that Eddie really belonged to- the girl who wasn’t you. A girl that you would never be like no matter how hard you tried. The girl that Eddie was in love with. Well, if you couldn’t have him for real then you could at least grant yourself this.
“I’m okay. I want to.” You mutter “Do you want to?”
“Yeah!” Eddie replies almost a little too fast- a little too eager “Yeah, fuck….I do. As long as you want to. We don’t have to…you know….just because I went down on you.”
“No, I want to, Eds.” You breathe “I’ve wanted to for a really long time.”
“Yeah?” He asks, his dick somehow hardening even more than it already was. Eddie could get off just from listening to you tell him that you wanted him. That you were going to grace him with the divine opportunity to have sex with you.
“How long?” He asks, staring into your eyes as he hovers above your half-naked body.
“…since middle school.” You admit, your face heating up in embarrassment.
“Fuuuuck…really?” He asks, his head spinning. And you were just now telling him this?
“Yeah.” You swallow “Really.”
“Even with the buzz cut?”
“Even with the buzz cut.”
“Fuck, you’re a little freak, you know that?” Eddie jokes, ducking his head to kiss your neck.
“Yeah?” You flirt, your voice hot and raspy “Do something about it then.”
Eddie’s eyes darkened as soon as the words left your mouth. A dare he wasn’t going to back down from. His hand flies to the hem of your tank top.
“Take your fucking tits out.”
────────
You stood on Steve’s front porch, overthinking absolutely everything. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, you thought. Especially when you had already made your presence around Eddie pretty scarce over the last month and a half. You couldn’t face him then so why the hell would you be able to face him now? Knowing that you were carrying his baby just made matters worse. Before you could officially decide against showing up, the door swings open- putting you face to face with Steve.
“Hey, you.” He smiles “How long have you been standing out here?”
His smile immediately drops when he sees the expression on your face. Something was up. He could sense it.
“You alright?” He asks, stepping towards you as he closes the front door behind him. He didn’t know why he did it but he could tell that there was a sense of privacy that he needed to provide you.
“Yeah.” You lie “I’m fine.”
You were not fine. Not even close to fine. Your insides were screaming out for you to tell someone- anyone.
“I…”
You stared at Steve, your eyes trying to tell him what your mouth couldn’t say. Steve didn’t know what had taken over him but, without even a moment’s hesitation, he reached for you- placing his hands on your upper arms. He caught the subtle way that your chin wobbled as if you were about to cry. You were not okay.
“Steve-“ You whisper, voice breaking.
Then the front door flies open, revealing Eddie Munson behind it.
“Hey, Big Boy, did you-“ He immediately freezes, walking in on your moment of vulnerability. His eyes fixate on Steve’s hands on your arms, Eddie’s jaw flexes. Steve drops his hands, looking over at Eddie.
“Hey.”
“Sorry, I…uh…popcorn?” Eddie asks, still looking between you and Steve. Something was up. He could feel it.
“In the pantry.” Steve answers “I got the one with extra butter.”
“Cool…” Eddie nods, trying to remain nonchalant before turning to speak to you “Hey, sweetheart. Good to see you.”
“Thanks, Eds.” You reply awkwardly “You too.”
Steve caught on immediately, picking up on your demeanor towards Eddie. You two were on the outs, Steve figured. But why?
“So…” Steve starts, running his fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck “Should we start the movie? Before Robin gives us a lecture about punctuality.”
“Yeah. Right.” You nod.
You and Steve try to move towards the door at the same time, causing you both to bump shoulders.
“Sorry!” Steve apologizes, his hand landing on the small of your back, just for a moment, but Eddie saw it.
“After you.”
Steve gestures for you to enter the house first, using the same hand that had very briefly caressed your back. Eddie began to dwell. Since when did Steve become so touchy with you?
“Thanks, Stevie.” You reply, walking ahead as Eddie steps out of the doorway to let you through.
Stevie.
Since when did you call him “Stevie”?
It was within that moment that Eddie realized that something just didn’t sit right with him about this.
The touching, the weird tension he felt when he opened the door on you and Steve, his hand touching your lower back, you calling him Stevie…
There was something going on here.
And Eddie didn’t know if he liked the possibility of what that something might be.
────────
You lift up your shirt, exposing your bare breasts to Eddie as he sucks in a long breath- his eyes roving over your hardened nipples on display for him.
“Fuck.” He groans, taking the bunched up material of your tank top and pulling it over your head- tossing it across the room. He ducks his head down to run his tongue over one of your sensitive buds before nipping at it. You moan at the sensation. He grabs both of your tits with his large hands, kneading them in his palms as he grinds his clothed crotch against your core.
“Eddie…” you moan, tugging at his black button down shirt that was still on.
“Yeah, baby?” He hums, too busy kissing your tits.
“Why am I the only one naked?” You ask, taking in the fact that he was still fully-clothed while you were beneath him- completely bare and exposed.
“You want me to take my clothes off, sweetheart?” Eddie rasps, looking up at you from between your chest.
“Please?” You ask, tugging at his shirt once again.
“Okay, baby.” He replies “Whatever you want.”
He removes himself from on top of you, getting off the bed as he stands beside it. Your eyes focus on him as he slowly begins to unbutton his shirt, one-by-one- his eyes boring into you as he works his fingers down. With every button that is released, more and more of his milky skin emerges from underneath the fabric it was hidden beneath.
“Like what you see?” He smirks, finally reaching the last button before he pulls the shirt off- dropping it onto the floor beside him. Revealing his chest tattoos that you hardly ever see.
You nod, your eyes zoning in on his bulge as he begins to unbuckle his jeans. He slides the zipper down agonizingly slow. You were almost certain that he was prolonging the big reveal as much as he could in order to build tension and suspense. You were far too horny to stand it.
“Eds.” You reply sternly, giving him a look of utter impatience “I’m dying here.”
“Alright, gorgeous.” He laughs “Almost finished.”
He hooks his thumbs into the waist of his jeans, pulling them down along with his boxers. His member is freed from its restraints, slapping against his lower stomach as he lets his jeans pool at his feet- kicking them off. Your jaw practically hits the floor. It was beautiful- he was beautiful.
“Everything okay?” He asks, a bit self-conscious as you stare at him in awe. He was big- no, huge. The biggest you’ve ever witnessed in person.
“You’re- wow.” You breathe out, studying how hard he was. His tip slightly red and leaking a considerable amount of precum. Your mouth immediately begins to water like some sick Pavlovian effect that he had on you. Already trained to want him in your wet, eager mouth.
“Fuck, Eds.” You moan “Can I…”
Your eyes dart between his eyes and his dick, wordlessly conveying what you want.
“Mmm…” Eddie groans “As much I’d love you to, baby, I don’t wanna blow my load in your mouth. Wanna be inside you. That okay?”
Was that okay? You thought. It was more than fucking okay.
“Yes, please.” You breathe, watching his lips curl into a devilish smirk.
“Mmm…Y’know, baby, with manners like that, you can have whatever you fucking want.”
────────
Eddie flopped down onto the couch as you worked the room, greeting everyone that you haven’t seen in the past two weeks. Eddie couldn’t put his finger on it but something about you was just…off- besides whatever it was that he had walked in on between you and Steve.
He settled his left arm on Steve’s leather sofa, looking over his shoulder to grab at the throw blanket draped over the back of the couch. The cuddle blanket, you and Eddie had dubbed it long ago. On the occasions that Chrissy didn’t show up for movie night (which was common), Eddie saved the spot next to him just for you- ready to snuggle you close. Prepared to be your emotional support buddy in case the movie was scary- always hoping that it was so that he could feel your body nestled close to his at the scary bits and bury your face into his bicep or his chest to shield your eyes.
Eddie didn’t want to admit it but things between the two of you had been awkward ever since he and Chrissy had gotten back together after Valentine’s Day. You hadn’t cuddled since then. For the first few weeks since he and Chrissy had gotten back together, she had tagged along to movie night- being the one that snuggled up next to Eddie and shared the cuddle blanket. Come to think of it, ever since he and Chrissy made up, you hadn’t been around much at all.
With Chrissy taking your spot next to him on the sofa, you opted to sit somewhere else the past few weeks. Your interactions with him during movie night had become minimal but he was also so focused on entertaining Chrissy that he hadn’t noticed until now.
Then there were the times that he had called and asked to hang out, to which you had declined each time. Citing that you were busy or that you had caught some stomach bug that you couldn’t seem to shake off. Eddie took it all in stride, at first. Now he was worried that you were actively avoiding him. But why would you be? You said things were cool between you two, right?
“Hey, you!” Robin exclaims, hugging you tightly. Eddie eavesdrops from where he sat on the couch, trying to look preoccupied with something else as he listens in.
“How are you feeling?” She asks, looking at you with worry “Better?”
“Yeah.” You nod, trying to force a smile. Trying to pretend that nothing was wrong and that you hadn’t just found out that you were carrying someone’s baby- someone that was only a few feet away from you. “I’m better now. Mostly.”
“Good! We all missed you.” Robin replies, leaning in before whispering in your ear- low enough for only you to hear “Especially someone sitting over there.”
Robin pulls away from you, swiftly darting her eyes over in Eddie’s direction as he suddenly became very interested in the silver chains on the cuff of his jacket.
You don’t answer. Instead, you gave a weak smile before you work your way over to Nancy and Jonathan, asking them what they’ve been up to. After twenty minutes of this, Eddie was practically steaming in his seat. You seemed to be having a conversation with everyone but him tonight. What the fuck?
“Movie’s starting in five!” Dustin bellows “And we’re watching Top Gun. I don’t wanna hear any shit about it! It was my turn to pick. Nobody presses play until I get back from the bathroom.”
“Make sure you aim this time!” Steve scolds “I’m tired of cleaning up after you. I’m not your mommy, Henderson.”
Dustin gives Steve a death stare before flipping him the bird, stomping off to the bathroom down the hall.
Eddie watches as everyone starts to decide where to sit. He looks over his shoulder, finding you and Steve in the kitchen whispering to each other. He was growing impatient. He has a warm spot waiting for you and you were in there fraternizing with Harrington? Since when have the two of you even been close? Not as close as you and Eddie were. Eddie had known you before you had even developed breasts. But now you were acting like Steve was your best pal on earth? Eddie’s hands began to ball into fists. Then it only got worse.
You follow Steve back into the living room, passing Eddie up as you slump down into a spot on the other end of the sofa. Right next to Steve. What….the…fuck? The worst part? You didn’t even look in his direction. Not even a parting glance. Were you snubbing him?
Eddie watches in disbelief as Steve leans in to whisper something in your ear. You nod. Oh, Eddie thought, So you and Harrington share secrets now?
Eddie grinds his teeth, watching Steve steal his spot. Next to his girl. Who did this fucker think he was? Oh, right. King fucking Steve. Eddie rolls his eyes. Thought he grew out of that, he fumes. Clearly not. Arrogant little fuck.
“This seat taken?”
Eddie looks over to find Dustin standing in front of him, looking at the open spot next to him. The spot that you should be sitting in.
“Guess not.” Eddie bitches, his face settling into a pout. Dustin catches it and raises his eyebrows questioningly.
“Soooo….can I sit here?”
“Just sit down and shut up, Henderson.” Eddie grumbles, snatching the cuddle blanket off of the spot beside him so that Dustin could sit down.
“Geez.” Dustin sasses “Who pissed in your Corn Flakes?”
Eddie’s head whips towards Dustin, giving him a look that silently conveyed him to not push it.
Dustin took the hint, knowing just how Eddie could be when he got bitchy. It was best not to poke the bear.
────────
“You ready?” Eddie asks, lining himself up at your entrance. He runs his tip up and down your slit, feeling just how wet you are, causing him to groan. “Fuck, you’re wet. Been thinking about this.”
“Yeah?” You whine, looking into Eddie’s eyes as he continues to rub against you.
“Oh, you have no idea, sweetheart.” He rasps, his voice low “Tell me when to move.”
“I’m ready.” You answer, your voice small. Unsure.
“Hey, hey, hey.” Eddie replies, catching your apprehension “We don’t have to do this.”
“I want to.” You answer “I’m ready. Just…worried that it…”
“Worried about what, baby?” Eddie coos “What’s in your head right now?”
“Worried that it’s not gonna fit.” You admit, and the sound of your innocent voice saying something so fucking hot was enough to have Eddie throbbing.
“Don’t worry, angel. It’ll fit. I promise it will.” He replies “‘Kay?”
God, how were you both just now doing this? He should’ve been fucking you ages ago.
“Okay.” You nod.
“You trust me?” Eddie asks, looking into your eyes. Those pretty, pretty eyes.
“I trust you, Eds.”
“Good,” he breathes “Now, just relax for me, alright? I’m gonna take care of you.”
You force your body to relax underneath him, making yourself ready. You were about to have sex with Eddie. Your Eddie. Your favorite person in the entire world. The fact of it was so surreal that it felt like a dream.
Eddie grabs his member, lining himself up with your wet heat once again as he begins to enter you, watching your face for any indications of discomfort or regret.
He hears a sharp intake of breath from below him, stilling his hips as he looks down at you.
“You okay?” He asks, his voice laced with worry.
“Yeah.” You assure him “I’m okay. You feel good, Eds. So good.”
The words that left your sweet lips were enough to have him melting. The tip of him was barely in and you were already mesmerized.
“Fuck, baby.” He sighs “I’m gonna keep going. You good?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Okay. Shit…alright.” he babbles, inching his hips closer to you as he pushes himself deeper, sinking into your plush, slick walls.
“Ohhhh fuck…” he gasps, his hands reaching above your head to grip the sheets.
“Are you okay?” You ask, watching the way he was squeezing his eyes closed.
“Y-yeah. Fine. Just…shit, you’re tight. M’not even all the way in.” He groans “Holy fuck…”
“Do you wanna stop?”
“No!” He replies hastily “Just gimme a sec.”
He takes a deep breath, beginning to push himself into you further- focusing on the way you were suffocating his cock with your velvety soft walls. This, Eddie decided, was heaven. It had been between your thighs the entire fucking time. Who would’ve known?
He lets out an almost pornographic moan as he bottoms out, pushing himself into you as deep as possible. The action earns him a long, drawn-out moan from you. A sweet fucking sound that made him ravenous.
“Eddie!” You gasp, clawing at his arms “S-so deep.”
“Jesus Christ, you feel so fucking good.” He whimpers “Fuck…”
Eddie begins to draw back, almost to the point of pulling out completely before thrusting back into you, causing you to gasp.
“Oh my god!” You squeak, your mouth falling open in pleasure.
“Fuck, you’re so hot!”
“More, Eddie!” You beg “Give me more.”
And who was Eddie fucking Munson to not give a lady what she wants?
He begins to snap his hips into you, drawing back and sinking back in like his life depended on it.
“Yes!” You whine “Eddie!”
The sound of his name tumbling from your lips only spurs him on. He grasps into your hips, angling himself to quickly fuck into your dripping cunt. The sudden angle shift had you digging your nails into his shoulders.
“Shit, Eds! Just like that!”
“Yeah? You like that, sweetheart?” He pants, picking up his pace "So fucking tight, baby. So fucking wet for me. Tell me you're wet for me."
"Yes, Eddie! S-so wet for you. Only you. Want you to fuck me harder!"
“Yeah? Is that how you like it, sweetheart? Nice and rough? Huh? Say it for me…”
“Eddie, please!” You beg.
“C’mon, baby. Use those pretty words of yours. Ask for what you want.” He growls.
“I want it rough!” You plead “Please!”
Eddie grunt as he drives into you harder, pounding you hard enough to jolt your body forward onto the mattress.
“Eddie! Eddie! Fuck, yes!” You chant.
“That’s right, sweetheart. Taking me so well. Like you were fucking made for my cock. Isn’t that right? Want it so bad, huh? Such a good girl, letting me fuck you like this.” Eddie praises “Such a good, good girl.”
The sounds of your moans coupled with the sound of Eddie pounding you into the mattress was downright filthy.
“Fuckin’ drenching my cock, princess. Fuck, that’s so sexy. You’re so sexy.” Eddie babbles “Can’t believe I’m fucking you. God-“
You began to feel the tell-tale signs of your high approaching, becoming breathless and desperate as Eddie fucked himself into you.
“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie! Fuck! Please!” You didn’t even know what you were asking for but all you could do is plead with him.
“What, baby?” He coos “Am I fucking you too good? Want me to stop?”
“No!” You cry out “Please, please, please don’t stop!”
“That’s right, sweetheart.” He praises “You can take it, can’t you? Taking my cock so fucking well.”
“Eddie, I-I’m close!” You gasp out desperately.
“Yeah?” He purrs “You close? You gonna come on my cock, sweetheart?”
“Please.” You practically sob “Wanna come for you. So bad.”
“Mmm…fuck!” Eddie growls “I’m getting close too, angel. Need to get you there first.”
Without hesitation, Eddie reaches down between you- placing his ring-clad middle finger onto your sensitive bundle of nerves as he roughly plays with your clit, sending you closer to the edge.
“Shit! Oh! Oh! Oh god!” You shout, your orgasm beginning to rip through you “Oh yesss! Fuck, I’m coming! I’m coming!”
“That’s right, angel! Come for me! Fuckin’ give it to me!”
It was the last thing you could hear before your screams began to fill the bedroom, your chest heaving as your orgasm took over your body. Your toes began to curl, your mouth dropping open as you were beginning to see stars. Eddie leans down to press his lips against yours, trying to stifle the sounds of your climax so that your neighbors couldn’t hear you and file a noise complaint with your apartment complex.
“Shit, baby! You’re squeezing me so tight.” Eddie pants, removing his lips from yours “I’m almost there, sweetheart. Almost there.”
He helped you ride out your orgasm, continuing to chase his own as you writhed in pleasure underneath him and Eddie swore that it was the hottest thing he’s ever fucking seen. Not even the horniest, filthiest porn-flick he’s ever watched could top this. This was the real fucking deal. The sexiest thing he’s ever fucking experienced- and it had him tumbling over the edge right after you.
"Fuck! Never felt something so tight! Christ, don't make me pull out. Please."
Without warning, you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in close as you hook your ankles together- holding him there. The action has his eyes practically rolling into the back of his skull. He slams his cock into you mercilessly.
“I’m gonna fucking come, baby! Fuck! Oh fuck!” He buries himself into your cunt so deep that he wanted to fucking live there and never come out. He wanted to fucking marry it. He swore to Christ himself and the heavens above that your pussy was the gold standard- the best he’s ever fucking had. The best he would ever have.
“Baby! Baby! Holy shit!” His voice breaks as Eddie hits his limit “I’m fucking coming!”
────────
“Eddie, you good, man?”
Dustin looks down at Eddie, standing over him as he shrugged on his jacket to brave the rainstorm that had started shortly into the movie.
“M’fine, Henderson.” Eddie drones, staring straight ahead with the same scowl on his face that he had had the entire movie.
“You sure? ‘Cause you look like you’re gonna kill someone.”
“Henderson, I’m gonna kill you if you don’t stop asking me stupid questions.” Eddie hisses.
“This is about her, isn’t it?” Dustin whispers, glancing towards you on the other side of the room as you stood next to Steve- helping him store leftover pizza in his fridge.
“Is it because she didn’t sit next to you?” Dustin prods, trying to find the source of Eddie’s unhappiness. Eddie just wants him to back off and mind his own business for once instead of worrying about him.
“Don’t you have someone else to bother, Henderson?” Eddie quips “Seriously, go away.”
“Geez.” Dustin rolls his eyes “Just go ahead and be all bitchy towards me because your other lady is blowing you off for Steve.”
Eddie’s eyes immediately snap onto Dustin.
“You noticed it too?” Eddie questions, completely ignoring Dustin’s comment about you being his “other lady” Eddie didn’t even care enough to straighten him out about that. All he cared about was finding out what Dustin knew about you and Steve.
“Yeah, I guess.” Dustin shrugs “I mean, I noticed that she hasn’t spoken to you since she got here. Especially when you two are usually on the end of that couch doing everything but sucking each other’s faces off.”
“Hey, no.” Eddie interjects “First of all, it’s not like that with us.”
“Like what?” Dustin challenges “Like you’re not totally in love with her?”
“Who said I was in love with her, Henderson?”
“You don’t have to.” Dustin replies “You’re more transparent than a sheet of plexiglass. She could ask you to jump off the quarry and you’d already be at the bottom doing the breaststroke.”
“You, Henderson,” Eddie replies, pointing his finger at Dustin “Don’t know what you’re talking about. Did you forget that I have a girlfriend? An amazing, adorable, super sweet girlfriend that loves me.”
“Oh, I remember. I think you are the one who forgets that you have a girlfriend, Eddie.”
And that was the comment that really struck a nerve.
“Excuse me, you little shit-stain?”
“Hey, I’m just saying,” Dustin tries to reason “I don’t know if Chrissy would be very happy if she saw the way that you looked at the girl that’s supposedly you’re best friend.”
“And how exactly do I look at her, hm?” Eddie challenges “Go ahead, do enlighten me.”
“Just forget it, Eddie.” Dustin replies, realizing not that it was a bad idea to even bring it up now that he knew that Eddie would never drop it.
“No, tell me.” Eddie crosses his arms “I’m dying to know. How do I look at her?”
Dustin sighs. He wished he would’ve just kept his mouth shut.
“I said forget it, Eddie.” Dustin sighs “Look, can you give me a ride? It’s raining and I don’t want to bike all the way home.”
“Yeah.” Eddie grumbles, still annoyed but never wanting to let his friends stand out in the cold and the rain “Sure. Whatever. Grab your shit, we’re leaving in five.”
Eddie rises from the couch, turning towards the kitchen to still find you and Steve standing there. Talking. What could the two of you possibly be talking about for so fucking long?
Eddie plucks up the courage to talk to you, approaching you and Steve in the kitchen as you speak in hushed tones. As soon as they see him approaching, the immediately stop talking.
Okay, Eddie thought, that’s totally not fucking weird or anything.
He stands in front of you and Steve, feeling an awkward tension between the three of you.
“Hey, man.” Steve smiles, looking at Eddie as if nothing abnormal was just happening. But it was, right? Or was it all in Eddie’s head?
“Hey.” Eddie clears his throat before turning to look at you “I, uh…me and Henderson are heading out. I came over to see if you wanted a ride home. Y’know, since it’s raining.” And because I always take you home.
“Oh.” You reply as if you’re taken aback. Eddie begins to feel even more suspicious. Since when were you surprised when he offered to take you home? He always dropped you off at your apartment after movie night. Hell, he was the one who drove you around Hawkins whenever there was somewhere you needed to go. Why were you acting so odd about it now?
“Thanks, Eds, but Steve is actually going to take me home.” You continue “But I appreciate you offering.”
You appreciate him offering? Since when did he have to offer, ever? It was an unspoken agreement since basically the dawn of time that he was your ride home. Now you were carpooling it up with Harrington? What…the…fuck?
“Sure, yeah. Cool.” Eddie responds, trying to feign nonchalance. Except it was totally not cool. It was vastly and entirely not cool. “So…I see you’re feeling better. I was thinking that maybe we can, y’know, hang out. I miss having you around.”
“Oh. Really?” You ask, not knowing what to say “I, uh…I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I have a lot going on and stuff.”
“Yeah?” Eddie questions “Do you wanna talk about it, maybe?”
“That’s nice of you to ask, Eddie.” You say “But it’s a little late and I’m kind of not in the mood to talk about it right now.”
Oh, but I’m sure you wanna talk about it with Mr. Perfect with his stupid good hair.
“Sure, yeah.” Eddie nods “I get it.”
“But I’ll call you soon.” You add “Promise.”
“Sure.” Eddie nods.
Liar.
“I’ll….see you around.”
Before you could reply, Eddie had turned on his heels-stomping off to collect Dustin and get the fuck out of there. The sooner that he could be at home in his bedroom and wallowing in his own self-pity, the better.
────────
“Fuck,” Eddie pants, flopping down onto the mattress beside you as he begins to laugh incredulously “That was…”
Amazing? Spectacular? Fucking sublime? Absolutely mind-blowing? Life-altering? The best thing he’s ever fucking felt in his subpar life?
“Wow.” He breathes “Shit…”
You, on the other hand, lay beside him. Silent. Just thinking. A feeling of immense guilt and regret flooding you. You just fucked Eddie- and you liked it. No, loved it. You loved him. You were in love with him.
“Hey,” Eddie whispers, taking in your lack of response as he rolls over onto his side to face you “You good?” His stomach drops when he notices your lack of euphoric afterglow. Fuck. Shit! You hated it.
No. No, no, no, please god no.
“Yeah.” You mumble “I’m okay. I’m good.”
But you didn’t seem good and that made Eddie begin to spiral.
“Shit! Did I hurt you? Did I do something wrong?” He questions, searching your face for something- anything.
“What?” You ask “No! No, I’m okay. Just….thinking.”
“You hated it…”
“No! No, I didn’t hate it!” You exclaim “It was nice, Eds. I just….I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Look…I’m gonna go take a shower. Maybe that’ll help.”
“Yeah…sure. That’s a good idea. Do you…want me to join you?” Eddie asked hesitantly, hoping that you’d say yes. That he could hold you underneath the warm, running water and get you to finally open up to him about what was going on.
“That’s okay.” You shoot him down, beginning to rise from the mattress as you grab at the bed sheets, covering yourself up self-consciously as you get out of bed. As if Eddie didn’t just see all of you- especially the most intimate parts. “I’m gonna be in and out anyway. You can stay…if you want.” You offer. “It’s late.”
“Yeah,” Eddie mutters “Okay.”
He watches as you grasp the bedsheet around yourself tightly as you walk towards the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom. Before you closed the bathroom door closed, you look over your shoulder at Eddie- who was watching you worriedly.
“Eds,” You say, your voice barely a whisper “It was nice. Really nice.”
Eddie’s heart began to lift even just a little bit. At least he knew that it wasn’t absolutely, tragically terrible for you. It still wasn’t the reaction that he was hoping for. It wasn’t coupled with the heart-felt sweet confession that you maybe loved him just as much as he loved you. But he also knew that would only ever happen in his passionate wet-dream fantasies about you.
Before he could respond, you had already gone into the bathroom- closing the door behind you as you left him naked and vulnerable in your bed. Yearning for you desperately even after just having been inside you, the closest that he’s ever fucking been to you.
Fuck, Eddie thought, this girl is going to kill me.
────────
You were seated in the passenger seat of Steve’s BMW, fiddling nervously with your seatbelt strap as he drove toward your apartment.
“So, how long have you and Eddie been hooking up? I thought he was dating Chrissy.”
“He is.” You sigh, continuing to explain the complexity of your situation to Steve “And it was only once. On Valentine’s Day.”
“Okay…” Steve replies, trying to follow along “But didn’t he go out to Enzo’s with Chrissy on Valentine’s Day? I just don’t understand how you two ended up having sex. I mean, I’m not, like, judging or anything. Honestly, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”
“What?” You ask, confused by what Steve was saying “What do you mean?”
“Oh, c’mon.” Steve huffs out a laugh “Don’t pretend like you and Munson haven’t had the hots for each other for years.”
“What? No. Me and Eddie have only ever been..you know…platonic.” You argue.
“You’re joking, right?” Steve counters “You do realize you’re literally telling me right now that you and Eddie had sex. Like, sex-sex. As in he stuck his d-“
“I know!” You interject, cutting Steve off before he could say the words “I know what I fucking said, okay?”
“It’s just…you hear how ridiculous that sounds?”
“Look, Steve, I said it was complicated.” You huff.
“Honey, I don’t think it’s as complicated as you think it is. You like Eddie. Eddie more than likes you, trust me. You two hooked up…and now…”
“I’m pregnant.” You state.
“Yeah.” Steve nods, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed “Pregnant.”
“What the fuck do I do?” You groan, throwing your head back against the headrest.
“Are you going to tell him?” Steve asks, looking over at you as he continues to drive.
“No!” You exclaim “Absolutely not! No.”
“Okay.” Steve answers “Well, what are your plans?”
“I, uh…I have an appointment on Monday. At Planned Parenthood. To…you know.” You reveal, your heart pounding as you finally say the words out loud. That you didn’t plan on keeping it.
“Shit, okay.” Steve nods “And you’re sure?”
“Yeah.” You reply “I just…I can’t have a baby, Steve. Especially not Eddie’s. My love-life would be over after that. Nobody’s gonna want to date me when I come attached with a kid.”
“I don’t know,” Steve jokes “Munson seems like he’d totally be into that.”
“Ugh! Can you stop fucking saying shit like that?” You bury your head in your hands “Even if Eddie wasn’t already with Chrissy, he’d skip town and run for the hills if he found out that I was pregnant with his baby.”
“I don’t know about that.” Steve shrugs “I think Eddie would step up. Especially knowing it was you who was having his kid. You know how he is with all that shit with his own dad. I just don’t see him abandoning you.”
“Well, we don’t know that for sure.” You lay out “And we’re sure as hell not going to find out. Which is why I kind of need your help, Steve. Like, really.”
“Yeah.” Steve replies without hesitation “Of course. I’ll be there one-hundred percent. You know that. Just tell me what you need and I’ll be right there next to you.”
Your heart warms at Steve’s admission. You always knew he was a good friend but now you were realizing just how good of a friend he was to you. Supporting you, comforting you, keeping your secret.
“Do you, maybe, think that you could take me? They said that I need someone to drive me. Make sure that I get back home safe after. I could also use the emotional support. Someone to hold my hand in the waiting room before I go in.”
“Of course!” Steve accepts “I’ll be there. For as long as you need me. You don’t have to do this alone.”
You begin to feel the prickliness of oncoming tears in your eyes from Steve’s words. Finally relieved that you had told someone. That someone was by your side and that you didn’t have to do this alone. You use your sleeve to wipe at your tears, trying to control your breathing enough to prevent yourself from sobbing. You sniff, staring into your lap as caught sight of Steve’s hand reach for yours- taking it in his own as he rubbed his thumb against the back of your hand soothingly.
You look over at him, watching as he gave you a sad smile before averting his eyes back onto the dark, stormy road ahead. You were glad that you had asked him to bring you home.
“Thank you, Steve.” You whisper into the silent cab of his car “This means a lot of me. More than you know.”
You lock eyes with him again but he doesn’t say anything back. Just sitting in the silence. He didn’t have to say anything. The way that he squeezed your hand in his let you know that he knew exactly what this meant to you. You didn’t have to say a word.
────────
You dressed yourself in the bathroom, your hair wet from the shower as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You could barely even make eye-contact with your reflection, guilt eating you from the inside out. All you could think about was Chrissy Cunningham. How you had sex with her boyfriend. How you let Eddie fuck you like some cheap rebound while he had to still be dwelling over the breakup. Were things even over between the two of them? You doubted it, yet you slept with Eddie anyway- and the reality of it made you feel dirty. Now you had to get back into bed and face him.
You braced yourself as you opened the bathroom door, preparing yourself to act normal but as soon as you stepped into the dark bedroom, you realized that you didn’t have to. The bed where Eddie once laid was empty. The pile of clothes that he had left on the side of the bed were gone. He had dressed himself and left without even bothering to say goodbye.
You stood there, dumbstruck.
No, you thought, there’s no way that he could have just left.
There’s no way that he could have just fucked you and walked out like a cheap hook-up. Some regretful one night stand.
You storm out of your bedroom, walking into your living room as you search around for him. Expecting to find him in the kitchen raiding your fridge for a late-night post-sex snack. But no. It was empty. You hurried back into the living room, looking to see that his boots were gone from where he had kicked them off during the movie. Eddie had taken off. Nowhere to be found.
You walk about into your bedroom, filled with disbelief. Checking your nightstand for a note, at least. An explanation on where he went or even why he had left. Nothing. Your blood ran cold. You sink down into your bed, noticing that the covers were pulled back up. You throw yourself back onto the bed in agony, feeling something underneath your back and the sound of crunching in your ears.
You sit back up, reaching to pull the covers back as you find the bouquet of wilted red roses on the side of the bed where his body used to be. Just staring back at you. Left there just for you. Leaving you wondering what they meant. Why he had left them there. Why he wasn’t in their place instead. How you wished it were him. How you wished that he had been laying there waiting for you to get out of the shower and climb in next to him and hold you in his arms and keep you warm and run his fingers through your damp hair. How you wanted him to show you that he didn’t regret this. That he wanted you like how you wanted him. That everything was okay.
Obviously joker Eddie isn't totally like the joker( he treats women a lot better than the canon joker)
Imagine falling in love with a criminal... Not just any criminal but the clown prince of crime himself..
You went to school with Eddie back in the day. Although you've never really talked to him much there was something about him that intrigued you.. something different.. you never did like the way everyone else treated him... After the accident that changed him as well as finally losing his sanity ( killing his father) you visit him in Arkham asylum....
So Much I Wanna Do - Eddie Munson x Reader - Part Three
When you're paired with Eddie while working at a seasonal haunt event, tensions begin to rise with each passing night. Lines between reality and fantasy begin to blur. And no matter how many bruises you're covered in - you don't hate it.
CW/TW: smut, chase through the woods, Eddie being like kind of a dick but you're into it, choking, breeding kink if you squint, no use of y/n
{as of rn this is the last part, so enjoy, team!! thank you for loving my silly lil spooky story so much !!}
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
For the rest of the shift, Eddie was the model of professionalism - as if he hadn’t been knuckles-deep inside of you over break. He stuck to the choreography perfectly - no improvised choking, no terrifying whispers that belonged in a horror movie instead of a goofy haunted house. He was careful, almost courtly, helping you up from the mats and alter with a gentlemanly hand every time. It should have put you at ease, but instead, it felt like he was holding his breath, waiting for something. He kept shooting you looks when he thought you weren't paying attention, dark and heavy, like he was replaying the events in the storage closet over and over again. To be fair, you were doing the same thing.
When the park finally closed, the walk to the parking lot was thick with unsaid words. The air was crisp, the gravel crunching under your boots the only sound. You kept stealing glances at him, trying to gauge his mood, but he was unreadable, hands shoved deep in his pockets, shoulders hunched against the cold.
You reached your car, fishing your keys out of your pocket with trembling fingers. You were just about to unlock it when Eddie moved.
He didn't say a word. He just stepped in, crowding you against the driver's side door. The sudden movement made you flinch, your heart jumping into your throat.
"Eddie," you started, your voice coming out steadier than you felt, though you couldn't really look him in the eye. "About earlier... Backstage."
You forced yourself to meet his gaze, ignoring the way your stomach twisted itself into knots.
"That... that can't happen again. We're working together. We can't do that."
You waited for him to apologize, to look guilty, to maybe back off. Instead, he let out a low, dark chuckle.
"Can't happen again?" He stepped closer, eliminating the last inch of space between you, until you were pressed flat against the car door. "Is that what you're telling yourself?"
"That's what I'm telling you," you insisted, though your voice wavered.
"Look at me," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, rough and intense. "You were shaking. You were soaked. I felt it." He leaned in, his nose brushing against your cheek, inhaling your scent like he was starving. "You wanted it just as badly as I did. Don't lie to me."
You opened your mouth to deny it, to tell him he was insane, but the words died in your throat. Because he was right. God help you, he was right. You had been terrified, but you had also been more alive in that cramped and dusty storage area than you had been in your entire life.
"I don't know what I want," you whispered, the truthful confession tearing out of you.
Eddie didn't give you time to continue to overthink. He didn't give you time to breathe. He cut you off with his mouth.
The kiss was fierce and demanding, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that bordered on violent. Your eyes went wide, your heart seizing in your chest as you instinctively pushed against his chest, trying to wedge a sliver of space between the two of you.
"N-no," you mumbled weakly against his mouth, panic flaring hot and sharp in your gut. "Eddie, stop."
He didn't stop. And you knew he wouldn’t unless you used the safe word. As if to confirm this, he pressed his hips forward, pinning you harder against the cold metal of the car door, trapping your hands between your chests. One of his hands left the car and gripped the back of your neck, tangling in your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. He tasted like nicotine and spearmint gum, a dizzying combination that overwhelmed your senses.
Your protests were smothered by his lips, swallowed by the sheer intensity of him. Your heart was pounding, but slowly, the terror began to fracture. The adrenaline that had been pumping through your veins all night shifted, turning from fear into something else - something hot and heavy.
His grip on your hair tightened just enough to send a jolt down your spine. You felt his teeth graze your lower lip, biting down gently, and a whimper escaped your throat. It wasn't a cry for help anymore.
Your hands stopped pushing. Instead, your fingers curled into the fabric of his t-shirt, clutching him closer. The panic slowly ebbed away, replaced by a swirling heat that made your knees weak. You kissed him back, opening your mouth under his, letting him sweep his tongue inside, claiming you. You felt small and powerless, yet also completely electrified.
Eddie groaned low in his throat. It sounded like both victory and need. He released your neck, his hand sliding down your side, over the curve of your waist, down to your hip. He squeezed your ass, pulling you flush against him, grinding his length against your stomach.
"See?" he whispered against your mouth, pulling back just enough to breathe, his eyes wild and dark in the parking lot lights. "I knew you -"
"Shut up," you breathed, dragging him back down to you.
The two of you made out in the darkness of the parking lot for what felt like hours, but could have only been minutes. It was sloppy and desperate, full of teeth and heavy breathing. His hands seemed to be everywhere - roaming under your sweatshirt, skimming the bare skin of your lower back, tracing the line of your ribs. He was greedy and insatiable, touching you like he couldn't get enough, like he was trying to memorize the map of your body.
And you? You were utterly lost in it, your head spinning, your body responding to his with an eagerness that scared you almost as much as he did. No one had ever really desired you in the way Eddie seemed to want you at that moment. You were gasping for air, your head falling back against the car as he pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat.
"We should s-stop," you managed to gasp, though you made no move to push him away.
"I don't wanna stop," he muttered against your skin, his hand sliding up under your shirt, his calloused fingers dragging along the lace of your bra. "I wanna ruin you. Let me ruin you.”
The possessiveness mixed with the barely-concealed plea in his tone made you shiver. You could feel the barely leashed aggression in him, the way he was holding himself back from going too much further right there against your car. He wanted to take you, claim you completely. That much was abundantly clear. And the terrifying part was how much you desperately wanted to let him.
"Someone’ll see," you whispered, weakly.
He let out a frustrated sigh, resting his forehead against yours, his chest heaving. He looked wrecked, his pupils blown wide, lips swollen.
"Tomorrow," he said, his voice rough and serious. "We're off tomorrow."
"Huh?" you asked, confused and breathless.
"I'm taking you out.” Eddie’s tone was decisive. “And we’re gonna finish what we started, yeah?”
He pulled away, bending down to scoop your forgotten keys up from where you’d dropped them on the ground. He pressed them into your palm, fingers lingering against yours.
"Go home, sweetheart" he said, stepping back, his eyes never leaving yours. "Before I change my mind and drag you into the back of my van."
You had half a mind to let him, and you stood there for a long time after he walked away, gripping your keys so hard they dug into your palm. You touched your bruised lips, your heart still racing, terrified and thrilled in equal measure.
Sunlight hit your face through a gap in the blinds, dragging you out of a sleep that had been restless and full of confusing dreams. You woke up with a groan, your body feeling like one giant bruise, and your lips still tender.
For a few blissful seconds, you didn't remember why. Then the memories of the night before flooded in, all culminating in one word - chainsaw. The safe word you hadn’t used.
You sat up in bed, clutching your knees to your chest.
What the hell were you doing?
Adrenaline was a hell of a drug, you’d give it that. It made dangerous things feel exciting. You had let a guy you barely knew - a guy who quite literally played a cult leader for fun and seemed to have a bit of trouble separating fiction from reality - manhandle you numerous times the night before. A guy who had literally choked you just an hour before kissing you.
"Idiot," you muttered to yourself, burying your face in your hands.
Thankfully, you had the day off. It was the perfect opportunity to reset. Take a bath, do your laundry, and put some distance between you and whatever storm was brewing inside Eddie Munson and threatening to consume you as well. You weren't a character in some dark romance novel - just a girl working a seasonal gig. A little voice in the back of your head said that you probably needed to walk away before you got in too deep. Well, deeper.
You found his number on the crumpled schedule sheet Gary had given you - scrawled in the margin in black Sharpie. You stared at it for a long time before picking up the phone. You were an adult. You could be firm and call things off.
He picked up on the second ring. "Yeah?"
"Eddie," you said, surprised at how steady your voice sounded. "Hey. It's me."
"Hey," he said, and you could hear the smile in his voice. It made your stomach flip. Stay strong. "I was just thinking about you. About last night, and I -"
"Look, Eddie," you cut him off, closing your eyes tight. "I've been thinking. About… I don't think it's a good idea. We aren’t a good idea."
“What?”
"The scene last night was... it was intense. Too intense. And then backstage, and the parking lot... I think we got kinda carried away. I think it's best if we just keep things… Professional."
Silence stretched on the other end. You could hear his breathing, slow and rhythmic, calculated.
"Professional," he repeated flatly.
"Yeah. I just... I'm not really looking for anything right now. And you’re a great guy, I just think you might be a little... Intense. For me."
There was a pause, and then a low, dark chuckle. It sent a chill down your spine.
"I don't accept that."
The words were so quiet, so devoid of hesitation, that you assumed you hadn't heard him right. "Excuse me?"
"I said, I don't accept that," he repeated, his voice dropping an octave, that low, gravelly tone he used when he was in character beginning to bleed into his real voice. "Didn't seem to think it was a bad idea last night when my fingers were literally inside you."
"That was adrenaline," you argued, your grip tightening on the phone until your knuckles turned white.
“I asked for your permission.”
“Yeah, but I -”
“Even made sure we had a safeword, sweetheart. Not really sure what more you want from me.
"Eddie, the whole thing was a mistake. It was a lapse in judgment."
"It wasn't a mistake," he said firmly. "You're just scared because you've never felt anything that real before."
"Of course I'm scared! You scared me, Eddie!" You snapped, losing your composure, your voice rising.
"Thought that was part of my allure for you," he countered smoothly. "I have a hard time believing you’re so terrified of me when you kissed me back. You wanted it just as much as I did."
"I was confused! You manipulated the situation -"
“How?”
“You made me… Uh…”
“Made you what? Spit it out. Name one thing I forced you to do against your will last night.”
Nothing, I liked all of it and you know that. Son of a bitch.
“I think you're terrified because you liked it.”
Goddamnit.
“You liked that I took charge of the situation - and you never used your safeword. So stop pretending you're some innocent victim when we both know you're throbbing for it right now."
The crude word hung in the air, stealing the breath from your lungs. You felt hot shame wash over you, mixed with a sickening pulse of arousal that you despised yourself for.
"Don't," you whispered.
"Then tell me you don't want to see me," he challenged. "Tell me you didn't think about me the second you woke up. Tell me you aren't thinking about touching yourself right now just remembering my hands on you."
"I'm not," you lied.
"Liar," he said softly. "We're not canceling. I'm picking you up at seven."
"Eddie - “
"Seven o'clock," he repeated. "Wear something comfortable. And don't make me come up there and get you. Because I will. But hey, maybe I shouldn’t threaten you with a good time."
"Eddie, stay away from me."
"See you then."
The line went dead.
You spent the next few hours pacing your apartment, jumping every time a car drove down the street. You debated calling the police, but that seemed insane. It was just a date, right? Eddie was just being pushy. Weird. Intense. But he hadn't actually threatened you, not really. He was just... You didn’t have a good word to truly encapsulate what he was. Or how he made you feel.
But you didn't call the police. And you didn't leave the house to go to a friend's, even though you knew you probably should. Instead, you sat on the edge of your bed, paralyzed by a weird, buzzing anticipation that you hated yourself for feeling.
At seven on the dot, you heard the low, guttural rumble of a van engine outside. You peeked through the blinds and saw his van parked at the curb. It was idling, the headlights off, the silhouette of his head visible through the windshield.
Your brain was screaming at you to turn off the lights, and hide under the bed until he went away. He scared you, you told yourself. And he doesn't respect boundaries. He’s dangerous.
But your body moved on its own. You found yourself grabbing your jacket and slipping your shoes on. You walked down the stairs and out the front door, your feet carrying you toward the van even as every instinct screamed for you to run back inside.
He’d gotten out of his vehicle, and seemed to have been headed towards your front door. A smirk played on his lips.
"Took you long enough," he said, opening the passenger door for you with a mocking flourish. “My lady.”
You looked at him, torn between terror and that awful, magnetic pull you felt whenever he was near. "I told you I wasn't coming," you said weakly, your voice lacking any real bite.
"I know," he said, his eyes locking onto yours. "But you're here. Funny how that works."
You looked at the open van door, then back at him. “This is such a fucking mistake.” You muttered under your breath.
“Mistakes make the best stories.”
The inside of his van smelled like him - leather, stale smoke, and that distinct woody scent that seemed to follow him everywhere. It was dark, the dashboard lights casting a faint green glow over the cab. You sat rigidly in the passenger seat, clutching your seatbelt with both hands, watching the familiar streets of Hawkins blur past the window.
He hadn't told you where you were going. Then again, you hadn't asked.
"You're quiet," Eddie said, breaking the heavy silence. He drove with one hand on the wheel, his elbow resting on the open window, the cool night air whipping his long hair around his face.
"I didn't exactly want to come, Eddie," you replied, voice tight. "I told you no. That usually means something to normal people."
Eddie let out a low, dark chuckle. "We're not normal people, are we? We're the ones who scream in the dark for minimum wage." He glanced over at you, his eyes dragging over your profile with a hunger that made your skin prickle. "Besides, you didn't have to get in. You could've slammed the door. Called the cops. But you didn't. You just got right in the car."
"I was scared," you admitted, turning to look at him, hating that your voice wavered.
"Liar," he said softly. "You were curious. Bet you were hoping I’d drag you out anyway."
"I wasn't!" But even as you spoke the words, the image of Eddie throwing you over his shoulder and into the back of his van made your stomach twist pleasantly.
"Then why are you here?" He asked. "Tell me.”
“I don’t know.”
“Then tell me you hate me. That you wanna go home. I’ll turn this van around right now, drop you on the sidewalk, and never look at you again. Is that what you want, sweetheart?”
You opened your mouth, the words on the tip of your tongue - but they died in your throat.
"That's what I thought," Eddie scoffed, shaking his head.
He took a sharp turn off the main road, the tires crunching on gravel as he headed toward the wooded outskirts of town. Your heart rate spiked.
"Where are we going?" You asked, trying to keep the panic out of your voice. Maybe you should’ve asked that a little sooner, dumbass. Eddie doesn’t seem like the type to take you out for ice cream.
"Somewhere we won't be interrupted," he said simply. "Where you can stop pretending you don't want this."
Eddie pulled the van into a secluded area at the edge of the woods near the old derelict lumber mill. It was pitch black, save for the moon filtering through the bare branches of the trees. He killed the engine, and the silence rushed back in, heavier than before. The only sound was the cooling ticks of the metal and your own shallow breathing.
Eddie turned in his seat to face you, undoing his seatbelt. The space in the cab suddenly felt incredibly small.
"Why did you really call me today?" He asked, his voice dropping to that dangerous rasp. "To call it off? See if I'd chase you? Did you wanna see how far I’d go?"
"I wanted to stop this before it got out of hand," you said, your voice trembling despite your best efforts. "Because you're unstable and you don't listen."
"Unstable," he repeated, testing the word like he liked it. "I'm just honest. You're the one lying to yourself."
He reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. You flinched, pulling back against the door, but he didn't retreat. Eddie followed you, his hand sliding into your hair, cupping the back of your neck. His grip was firm, but not painful.
"You liked it last night," he murmured, his face inches from yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him. "I think you kinda liked not having a choice."
You stared at him, your eyes wide, trapped in his gaze.
"Never too late to use the safeword, baby girl," his thumb traced the line of your jaw. You shook your head and tried to avoid his gaze, but he yanked your head back to face him. “Nuh-uh. You don't get to sit there and act all when we both know you got off on the whole thing."
The crude accusation made your face burn with shame, but underneath it, that dark, twisted heat flared up again. He was right. God, you hated him for being right.
"Eddie, please..."
"Please what?" he challenged, his lips hovering over yours. "Please let you go? Or please ruin you?"
The look in your eyes was apparently all the urging he needed to close the distance, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss. It was just as fierce as the night before, but this time, there was nowhere to run and nothing to interrupt. You were trapped in the cab of his van, surrounded by his scent and overwhelming presence.
You tried to keep your mouth shut, to resist, to push him away. Not because you didn’t want him, but so you could prove to yourself that you still had a shred of common sense somewhere in the recesses of your brain.
But your hands were the first to betray you. They fisted in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer instead of shoving him back. His tongue probed insistently, and when his teeth nipped at your lower lip, a soft whimper escaped you. Eddie deepened the kiss, one hand tangling in your hair, tilting your head back to give him better access. His other hand dropped to your waist, pulling you across the center console to straddle him, your chest pressed against his.
"You're trembling," he whispered against your mouth, pulling back just enough to speak. He said it like it thrilled him.
"Probably the fear," you lied, your breath coming in short gasps.
"No," he said, his hand sliding down to your thigh, squeezing roughly through the denim of your jeans. "It's probably the thrill of doing something you know you shouldn't."
His hand moved higher, his fingers brushing against the seam of your jeans between your legs. You gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily, seeking the friction and warmth of his touch.
"See?" he smirked, his eyes dark and gleaming in the dashboard lights. "Seems like your body knows what it wants.”
Eddie examined your expression thoughtfully, clarity and understanding dawning in his eyes even though you were silent.
“You want me to force you, is that it? You want me to take the choice away so you don't have to feel so guilty about liking it."
Your jaw dropped involuntarily, and Eddie’s grin was positively wicked.
“I knew it.
"This is crazy," you breathed, your hands resting on his shoulders, unsure whether to push him away or pull him closer. "You're crazy."
"Maybe," he conceded, leaning in to trail wet, biting kisses down the side of your neck. "But you're here. You're in my van. In the middle of nowhere. With me. And you haven't tried to run once."
He bit down hard on the sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder, hard enough to make you gasp, his hand kneading your inner thigh with a possessiveness that bordered on violence. The sharp line between pain and pleasure was blurring, turning into a dull, throbbing heat that made your toes curl.
"Why did you come?" He demanded, his voice rough against your skin, laced with a dark, taunting amusement. "Hmm? If I'm so scary, if I'm such a monster... Why did you get in the van?"
"I don't know," you whimpered, your head falling back as his fingers teased you through the denim, light and maddening. "I c-couldn't say no."
"Ever think it was because you don’t want to say no," he asked, looking up at you, his face shadowed and intense.
You looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the obsession simmering just below the surface. It was terrifying. He was terrifying. And yet, as his hand pressed more firmly against you, sending sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine, you realized with a jolt of panic that he was right. You were scared to death, but you were burning to find out what he would do next. Fear was apparently a powerful aphrodisiac.
"Kiss me," you whispered, the words barely audible, hating yourself for needing it.
Eddie grinned, a flash of white teeth in the dark. "With pleasure."
His mouth crashed against yours again, hungry and demanding, and you closed your eyes and let the fear wash over you, mixing with the heat until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.
The air inside the van was stifling, thick with the heat radiating from your bodies. Eddie’s hands were everywhere, roaming under your jacket, tugging your shirt free from your jeans. His skin was hot against yours, calloused fingers with their cold rings dragging over your ribs, making you arch your back despite the voice screaming in your head that this was madness.
He kissed you like he was starving, devouring you, his teeth scraping against your lips, his tongue claiming your mouth with an urgency that bordered on feral desperation. You were lost in it, hands tangled in his hair, the fear and the arousal blurring together into a heady cocktail that made your head spin.
"Let's take this to the back," he muttered against your throat, his hand sliding down to grab your ass, pulling you harder against him. You could feel him, hard and insistent beneath his jeans, a heavy reminder of exactly what he intended to do.
The rough implication of his words, the visual of the dark, empty back of his van, snapped something inside you. The curiosity if he was all talk was almost too much to bear.
Game, set, match then, Munson.
You planted your hands on his chest and shoved him away with everything you had. It caught him off guard; he fell back against the driver's side door, eyes widening in confusion.
"Wait - "
You didn't wait. You dove for the passenger door handle, your fingers fumbling frantically with the handle before you finally managed to wrench it open. Eddie tried to grab at the belt loops of your jeans, but you tumbled out of the van, hitting the gravel hard, your knees scraping beneath the denim. You hardly felt the pain.
You heard Eddie shout your name, but you were already running without looking back. You bolted into the treeline, crashing through the underbrush, ignoring the branches that snagged your hair and scratched your face.
"Get back here!" Eddie roared, the sound of a door slamming echoing behind you.
The woods were almost pitch black, the moonlight doing almost nothing to illuminate the maze of shadows and twisted roots. It felt like you were running blind. Your lungs burned, your breath coming in ragged gasps. You could hear Eddie not far behind you - crashing through the woods, heavy footfalls tearing up the earth. He wasn't trying to be quiet.
Not all talk, then?
"You can't run from me!" his voice cut through the night, closer than you expected. "There's nowhere to fucking go!"
Terror lent you speed you didn't know you had. You vaulted over a fallen log, stumbling on the other side, scraping your palms on the rough bark. You scrambled up, your heart beating so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.
Think, you told yourself, your eyes darting around the darkness. Hide.
You spotted a dense thicket of bushes to your left and dove for it, curling into a ball behind the tangled branches. You clamped your hand over your mouth to stifle your breathing, squeezing your eyes shut. You were terrified, yes. But also more than a little excited.
The crashing footsteps stopped.
The silence that followed was scarier than the noise. You could hear the wind rustling the leaves, the distant hoot of an owl, and the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears.
"Come on, sweetheart," Eddie’s voice drifted through the trees, mocking and soft. "You're making this way harder than it needs to be."
Twigs snapped nearby. He was circling.
"Didja wanna see if I was all talk? Is that it?” His tone was placating, like he was talking to a spooked animal. "Is that what this little runaway act is for?"
For a few more minutes, there was silence.
Suddenly, a hand shot through the bushes, grabbing your ankle with a grip like iron.
You screamed, kicking out instinctively, scrambling backward through the dirt, but Eddie hauled you out of the thicket with terrifying strength. You were on your back in the leaves before you could even process the movement, looking up at him looming over you. He was breathing hard, his chest heaving, his hair wild, but he was smiling in a way that looked positively feral.
"Gotcha," he panted, dropping to his knees to straddle you, pinning your body to the forest floor.
"Let me go!" You thrashed beneath him, arousal mixed with a bit of genuine panic clawing at your throat.
"I don't think so," he said, grabbing your wrists and pinning them on either side of your head. "Not unless you say the magic word."
“P-please?”
“P-please?” Eddie taunted with a laugh, but his face sobered for a split second, his grip on you loosening the slightest bit. “You remember your safeword, right?”
You nodded.
“Use your words. Tell me you remember it.” He looked deathly serious.
You raised an eyebrow, surprised that he was choosing this moment to sort of check in with you.
“It’s c-chainsaw.” A shaky laugh escaped you. “The safe word is chainsaw.”
“Good girl.” His praise made you squirm almost as much as the darkness that returned to his eyes. He leaned down, face inches from yours, the adrenaline radiating off him in waves. "So what was all that for, sweetheart? Did you think I wouldn't find you?"
You stared up at him, trapped, terrified, and horrifyingly aroused. He was in his element now, and the look on his face made your stomach flip.
"I just… Wanted to see if you were fucking with me.”
“Oh?”
“If you were just talking a big game or not.”
Eddie shifted his weight, pressing his hips against yours, letting you feel exactly how much he was enjoying the chase. “And what do you think now?”
“Dunno, you haven’t really done much yet.”
His hands squeezed your wrists, nearly cutting off circulation. “Tell me you’re mine.”
“W-what?”
“Say it. Tell me there’s no one else.”
Umm…
“Say it," he hissed, biting down on the sensitive skin of your earlobe. "Or I'll make you scream it."
The threat sent a jolt of liquid heat straight to your core. But there was something about pissing him off that excited you. And if the bulge in his jeans was any indication - he was also into it.
"No," you gasped, struggling uselessly against his hold.
"Say it," he demanded, releasing one of your wrists only to wrap his hand around your throat. "I caught you, fair ‘n square. You're mine. I own you."
The realization that you were in the middle of the woods, completely and utterly at Eddie Munson’s mercy made fear briefly smother the arousal you were feeling. Was this truly a good idea? Almost certainly not.
"I-I'm yours," you whispered, not sure what else to say. "I'm a-all yours, Eddie."
"Good girl," he murmured, sounding satisfied. "Now are you going to stop fighting and let me ruin you?"
You stared up at him, trembling violently, heart racing with a mix of terror and a dark, traitorous thrill. You were exhausted, scratched up, and terrified, but looking into his wild eyes, you realized the chase hadn't scared him off. It had only made him want you more.
I should be screaming for help. Clawing his eyes out. Running to the nearest police station. But God help me, I’ve never felt more alive than I do right now with his hand around my throat.
Your chest heaved against his, the rough ground digging into your spine. Eddie’s hand on your throat didn't tighten, but the weight of it was a leash you couldn't slip. He stared down at you, his eyes blown wide with a manic sort of delight.
"Look at you," he teased, a wicked grin splitting his face. "The whole terrified thing looks good on you, sweetheart. But I’m a bit anxious to get to the main event - aren’t you?"
You nodded. Eddie leaned close, his lips nearly touching yours.
"Option one," he said, his voice dropping to a low, rough murmur that vibrated against your lips. "You be a good girl. Stop fighting. You walk back to the van with me, and we do this the way I wanted to. Like civilized people."
He paused, letting the silence stretch. His thumb stroked the side of your neck, terrifyingly gentle.
"Option two," he continued, his eyes darkening, "I fuck you right here. Tear those clothes off you and take what’s mine while the leaves watch."
You froze, your eyes widening. The raw possessiveness in his voice made your knees weak. He wasn't bluffing. You looked at him - at the wild, untamed hair, the intense focus, the sheer lack of hesitation in his eyes - and you knew he would do it. He would ruin you out here in the dirt if you let him.
The thought terrified you. But beneath the fear, hot and shameful, was a spark of something else. A dark, twisted curiosity that whispered you wanted to see how it would make you feel..
Do it, the voice in your head whispered, surprising you with its depravity. Let him have you right here in the dirt. Let him see how crazy he can make you.
"Choose," he demanded, his hand tightening on your throat.
On second thought. Germs.
"The van," you whispered, the word barely audible.
Eddie’s grin faltered, replaced by a look of dark, hungry satisfaction. "Smart choice."
He didn't let go of you. Instead, he kept his hand clamped around your wrist, his fingers digging in as he hauled you to your feet, and marched you back through the woods. You stumbled alongside him, breathless and trembling, but he didn't slow down. He led you like a prisoner back to the waiting vehicle.
The van was idling where he’d left it, the headlights cutting beams through the darkness. He wrenched the sliding side door open and practically shoved you inside. You landed on a thin mattress, scrambling backward toward the bench seat, but he was right behind you, a looming shadow in the night.
Before you could even sit up, he was on you. He crowded you against the back of the front seat, shedding his jacket and flannel in one fluid motion, tossing them aside into the dark. He grabbed your ankles, wrenching off your shoes and yanking you down flat. Then he crawled back over you like he was reclaiming his territory.
Eddie captured your mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing your protests. His hands were rough, tugging at your clothes with a hungry, rough urgency. He didn't bother with unbuttoning your jeans; he just gripped the waistband and yanked them down, taking your underwear with them in one rough pull.
You gasped as the cool air hit your skin, and his hands were there instantly, warm aside from those damn silver rings he always wore. He dragged his fingers through you, his eyes rolling back in his head when he felt how aroused you were.
He groaned, his voice dripping with dark triumph. "Such a dirty fucking girl. You can pretend to be scared all you want, but your body knows who it belongs to."
“Belongs to?”
“You heard me.” His fingers moved against you, and your hips writhed against him involuntarily. “God, you’re desperate.”
“Shut up.” You meant for your voice to come out as slightly bitchy, but the words sounded more akin to a whimper.
"Make me," he challenged, fumbling slightly with his belt buckle, the sound of metal clanking loud in the quiet van. "You're mine tonight. And I think I'm gonna ruin you for anyone else."
Eddie freed himself, and the sheer size of him was intimidating. He reached into his discarded jeans pocket, ripping open a foil packet. He rolled the condom on with practiced ease, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Safety first," he mocked, his voice thick with arousal. He lined himself up, pressing the blunt head against your entrance. "Though, shit…The thought of filling you up... Puttin’ a baby in you..." He let out a ragged breath, his eyes glazing over with a dark, possessive lust that made your skin burn. "That would be so fucking hot. Knowin’ I did that to you."
You were too blissed out and overwhelmed to really process the insanity of his words. A vague wave of heat washed over you at the thought, but it was drowned out by the pressure as he pressed into you.
It was slow and relentless. He forced his way in, stretching you, filling you up until you cried out. It was too much, too fast, the burn of the intrusion mixing with the overwhelming pleasure.
"Take it," he hissed, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot on your face.
When he started to move, there was no gentleness in it. He fucked you with a driving, rhythmic force that shook the van, gripping your hips to keep you in place. Every thrust felt like a claim on your body. He kissed you deeply, swallowing your moans, his tongue mimicking the movement of his hips.
You dug your nails into his shoulders so hard you were certain you drew blood - but Eddie didn’t seem to mind. He moved one of his hands to press firmly down against your stomach, just above where his pistoned in and out of you. The pressure made you cry out and writhe beneath him.
The fear was still there, a humming background noise, but it was drowned out by the sensation of him. The sheer intensity of his focus on you - like you were the only thing in the world that mattered - was intoxicating.
"You're so - Jesus Christ -" he groaned, burying his face in your neck as his words became incoherent. "Knew you'd feel like heaven. Fucking hell."
He shifted his hips, hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars. You cried out, your head falling back against the floor, your back arching off the mattress.
"Right there?" Eddie asked, a smug satisfaction in his voice. He did it again, harder, and just before you shattered, completely, he pulled out of you.
“What the f-fu-”
With surprising ease, he flipped you over, yanking you up on all fours before he sank into you again. You groaned, feeling his large hand splay across your back, pressing down so that your elbows hit the mattress. From that angle, he was able to go even deeper, and you felt as though you were being split in two in the best way. Each heavy, hot inch of him filled you, and you were surprised sex could feel so good. His ringed hand squeezed the back of your neck, and you saw a constellation of stars burst behind your eyes.
With a cry, your orgasm ripped through you violently. Your muscles clenched around him, your body shaking with the force of it. Eddie didn't stop. He rode you through it, his pace relentless, drawing it out until you were begging him to stop and for him to never stop in the same breath.
"Look at me," he commanded, yanking you back to all fours despite your shaking. "I wanna see you."
You forced your eyes open, looking dazed and overwhelmed as you glanced over your shoulder.. He looked wild, his hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that stole your already labored breath away. With one final, deep thrust, he buried himself inside you, his body going rigid as he found his release.
He nearly collapsed on top of you, but instead he rolled on his side and took you with him. For a long time, the only sound in the van was your combined breathing, heavy and ragged. You stared up at the roof, your body humming in the aftermath, feeling bruised, used, and terrifyingly alive.
Eddie lifted his head after a moment, brushing a sweaty lock of hair away from your face. He looked down at you, a strange, soft expression replacing the usual manic grin.
"See?" he whispered, his thumb tracing your lower lip, pulling it down in a pout slightly. "Told you it'd be better if you were good."
So Much I Wanna Do - Eddie Munson x Reader - Part Two
When you're paired with Eddie while working at a seasonal haunt event, tensions begin to rise with each passing night. Lines between reality and fantasy begin to blur. And no matter how many bruises you're covered in - you don't hate it.
TW/CW: smut, light choking, discussion of safe words + some cnc vibes, no use of y/n
The next evening, the shipping container felt less like a breakroom or space to get ready and more like a meat locker. The temperature had dropped with the sun, and the metal walls seemed to leech the heat right out of your bones.
Or maybe it was just that your body was one giant, throbbing bruise. When you’d looked in the mirror this morning, dark purples and angry blues were blossoming along your arms and collarbone, mapping out exactly where Eddie’s hands had been the night before.
You sat on a blanket on the floor to stretch, hissing as you tried to rotate your shoulder. The movements to warm you up pulled at seemingly all your muscles, sending aches radiating down your sides. Jesus Christ.
The door groaned open, letting in a blast of frigid air, and Eddie stepped in. He was already in his black robe, the heavy fabric hanging open, revealing his t-shirt and cargos underneath. He stopped mid-step when he saw you. His eyes - already darkened by the liner he wore - narrowed. He walked over, the heavy thud of his boots echoing before he knelt down next to you. His gaze dropped instantly to the array of colorful marks marring your skin.
"Whoa," he said, coming to a halt just inside your personal space. "That looks... Shit. I’m sorry."
You looked down at the mottled skin on your forearm, then back up at him. You forced a nonchalant shrug that pulled painfully at your sore shoulder. "Occupational hazard."
He frowned, reaching out as if to touch one particularly dark bruise on your forearm, his fingers hovering just above the skin. You saw the tension in his hand, the way his rings glinted under the harsh fluorescents. Then he seemed to think better of it and let his hand drop.
"I talked to Gary," he said abruptly. "Told him the concrete was a lawsuit waiting to happen so he's bringing in extra crash mats. Thick ones. For the... Struggle area."
You blinked up at him, surprised by the gesture. "You did that?"
"Yeah. Well." He shifted his weight, looking away from your bruises and fixing his gaze on a stack of plastic skulls. "Can't have my sacrifice passing out from impact before the ritual. And I, uh. I don't want to actually hurt you."
Something warm and fluttery bloomed in your chest, displacing the dull ache. It was a confusing reaction. Feeling comforted by the guy who had effectively used you as a wrestling dummy.
"That's actually really sweet, Eddie. Thanks. I appreciate it."
He shrugged, looking visibly uncomfortable with your gratitude.
"Yeah. No problem. Hey, um..." He looked back at you, his eyes searching yours with a sudden, piercing intensity. "Last night. Was I... Did I cross a line? Anything I did that made you uncomfortable? Because if I did, I -"
"No," you interrupted quickly. Maybe too quickly. He definitely had crossed more than one. The memory of his weight on you, the electric hum of his breath against your neck, flashed through your mind. "No, you didn't. It was intense, sure, but that's the job, right? We're selling fear. I'm good."
He held your gaze for a beat longer, as if trying to see past your deflections, before nodding slowly. "Okay. Good. Just checking. Shall we go break in the new mats?"
The house was quiet again, the atmosphere heavy and still, smelling of dust and artificial fog. The new mats were indeed thick, laid out over the first section. You were relieved.
"Ready?" Eddie asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet, his energy manic and barely contained.
"Born ready.”
You ran the scene. This time, when he tackled you, the landing was soft, but the force of him wasn't. He landed on top of you with a controlled violence, his weight solid and overwhelming, pinning you effortlessly.
You gasped, struggling against his grip and attempting to wedge your knee up, but he was ready for it, nudging it aside with his own. His hands caught your wrists, and you squirmed, twisting your hips to escape. But he was an immovable object, his thighs locking yours into place, his chest pressing you down until you could barely breathe.
"Eddie, get off!" You tried to laugh breathlessly, but you were genuinely trying to worm your way out from under him.
He didn't budge. Just leaned down, his face inches from yours, that wild grin plastered across his features. He adjusted his grip, shifting his weight to pin you even more effectively, rendering you completely helpless.
"You're so feisty," he panted, slightly out of breath himself. "I like that."
“Eddie, please. I c-can’t -”
He let you struggle for a moment longer, watching you writhe beneath him with a look of fascinated amusement. Finally, he pushed himself up slightly, looking down at you sprawled out underneath him, chest heaving, hair a mess. His eyes dragged over your form, lingering on the vulnerable curve of your throat.
"You know," he said, rolling off you and onto his back on the mats, staring up at the ceiling, "you're really fun to throw around."
You lay beside him, rubbing your wrists and trying to force air back into your shaking lungs. The comment hung in the air, weirdly casual but loaded. It sent a little jolt down your spine that wasn't entirely unpleasant. A shameful thrill that you tried to stamp down.
"Should I take that as a compliment?"
"Sure, why not?" Eddie turned his head to look at you. "Most people would probably just go limp. Dead weight. Boring. You... You fight back. It makes it better. More real."
You didn't know how to feel about that. Thrilled? Unsettled? Bit of both? You shrugged, standing up and smoothing down your nightgown. But the feeling of his weight pressing you into the mats stayed with you. Heavy, possessive, and undeniably enticing.
By the third run, the adrenaline was a steady hum in your veins. But by the time the final group shuffled through, terrified and giggling, you felt raw. The new mats made the falls painless, but they didn't soften the impact of Eddie.
He was definitely… Different tonight. Faster. Rougher. There was a simmering aggression under the surface that hadn't been there before. When he grabbed your arm to yank you back toward him, his grip was iron-tight, his fingers digging into your bruised skin until you gasped. It wasn't acting; it was a genuine reaction.
When he tackled you, there was no hesitation or easing you into it. He just took you straight down, utilizing the momentum of the chase. During the struggle scenes, you found yourself genuinely to create even a sliver of space.
You could’ve sworn he growled "Mine," during the final show. His hand even wrapped around your throat for all of five seconds. Your heart stuttered in your chest. For a moment, amidst the screaming of the guests and the flashing strobe lights, you forgot it was a show. When you looked up at him, wide-eyed and breathless - something predatory stared back.
And the worst part? A sick, twisted part of you didn't really want him to stop.
By the time midnight hit, you were trembling, and it wasn't just the biting cold cutting through the thin fabric of your nightgown. You peeled yourself off the altar for the last time, your body feeling like it had been through a spin cycle. Bruised, battered, and buzzing with a strange, static charge that you couldn't seem to scrub off.
You were gathering your bag near the exit, trying to zip up your jacket with fingers that felt numb and clumsy, when Gary marched up. The trusty clipboard was clutched to his chest like a shield, and he looked weirdly flushed, almost sweaty despite the chill.
"Hey!" Gary barked, though there was a distinct lack of his usual misery in his tone. He looked between you and Eddie, who had been leaning against the doorframe watching you pack up. "I've been getting feedback all night. Non-stop."
You blinked, straightening up. "Why? Was the sound system too loud?"
"Loud? No. It was... Other things." Gary cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable but oddly thrilled. "Apparently, we've tapped into something with the cult scene. I've had multiple different groups of girls - and I mean, grown women, too - complain to the staff outside."
"Complain?" Eddie asked, pushing off the doorframe and crossing his arms. "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing was wrong," Gary said, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial hush. "They were complaining because they couldn't stay to watch it all again.”
“What?”
“They were saying it was the, and I quote, 'hottest thing' they've ever seen in a haunted house. Apparently, this whole 'possessive cult leader' angle is... Doing it for them, I guess? Big time."
You felt your face heat up, a hot flush creeping up your neck that had nothing to do with the exertion. "They... Liked it?"
"Liked it? They loved it," Gary said, tapping his clipboard with a pen. "They said the chemistry was palpable. One woman asked if the two of you were dating in real life. Another asked if she could pay extra to go through the scene a second time." He grinned, a sleazy, money-hungry grin. "Whatever you two are doing out there, keep it up. It's gold. Just... Keep pushing that boundary. They want the fear, but they like the spice, too."
He walked away before you could formulate a response, leaving you standing there with your mouth slightly open.
"Well," Eddie said from beside you, slinging an arm around your shoulders. "Looks like we're a hit, sweetheart."
He didn't look disturbed or even confused by the feedback. If anything, he looked validated as he fell into step beside you as you headed out to the parking lot, the silence between you heavier than it had been the night before.
"You were on fire tonight," he said, breaking the quiet. His voice was still raspy from all the shouting.
"Yeah, well," you hugged your arms tighter around yourself, trying to stop your teeth from chattering. "You too. You really, uh, committed, I guess. "
He laughed, a sharp, bright sound. "It’s acting, baby. Gotta give the people what they want."
You reached your car, but you didn't immediately unlock it. In the harsh parking lot lights, Eddie looked exhausted but electric, the dark smudges of residual makeup under his eyes making him look gaunt and strangely beautiful.
"You got a little intense back there, though," you said, keeping your voice light, but your eyes were searching his face. "Like, really intense. A couple of times, I thought you were actually going to snap my arm."
Eddie’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second. He took a step closer, invading your space, leaning his forearm against the roof of your car. The smell of cedarwood, leather, and sweat enveloped you.
"Did I scare you?" he asked softly. The playfulness was gone from his tone. He sounded genuinely curious, hungry for your answer.
"Maybe a little." You admitted, your heart rate picking up speed despite your best efforts to stay calm. "It’s just... You’re really strong. And you get lost in it. Sometimes it feels... Real."
He stared at you, his dark eyes boring into yours, unreadable. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the sleeve of your sweatshirt, trailing down to your wrist where the bruises were darkening under the fabric.
"I'm sorry."
You waited for the "that I hurt you," or the "I didn't mean to" addition. But they didn't come.
His thumb began to rub slow circles over your wrist, his gaze dropping to your lips, then back up to your eyes. There was a dark, heavy weight there that made your breath hitch. "I just get... Carried away. When it's you."
But Eddie didn't look sorry at all. He looked like he was replaying the night in his head, savoring the memory of you underneath him, fighting and terrified.
"It's fine," you said, your voice sounding small, weak to your own ears. "We're just acting."
"Right," he said, straightening up and stepping back, but the ghost of a smirk played on his lips. "Just acting. See you tomorrow."
You watched him walk away, his stride confident and loose. You got into your car and sat there for a long time with the heat blasting, trying to shake the feeling that you had just narrowly escaped something much more dangerous than a pretend stabbing. And harder try harder still trying to tell yourself you weren’t into it.
Three nights later, the boundary between the act and reality didn't just blur; it shattered.
It was midway through the night, the height of the evening when the groups were biggest, drunkest, and the screams were loudest. The run had been standard - tense, physical, but within the lines - until the final moment in the ritual room. You had collapsed on the altar but instead of “stabbing” you with the rubber knife immediately before the blackout, his hand wrapped firmly around your throat.
It wasn't a fake choke. It was a vice.
Before you could process the deviation, he hauled you up by the neck, your feet scrabbling for purchase and fingernails clawing at his large hands. He pulled you up and twisted your body around, slamming your back against his chest. The impact knocked the last of the air out of your lungs with a pained wheeze. The rubber knife was in his other hand, but he didn't bring it to your chest. He pressed the blunt tip against your cheek, hard enough to indent the skin, dragging it slowly down toward your jaw with deliberate, terrifying pressure.
The group cheered, thinking it was part of the show. But you felt the tremor in his hand. You felt the way his fingers squeezed, digging into the delicate sides of your neck, just a fraction too tight, cutting off your airway for a terrifying, dizzying second. He wasn't looking at the audience, goading them to cheer him on as he often did. His face was buried in your hair, inhaling the scent of your sweat and shampoo.
Panic, sharp and real, spiked in your blood.
The whole exchange lasts less than twenty seconds, but the moment he let you go to "kill" you, you scrambled away, bolting behind the backdrop to the backstage area.
You burst through the curtain, stumbling into the cramped, dimly lit corridor that ran behind the various scenes and rooms. You kept running, past the prop tables and the spare fog machines, until you found the storage area near the back exit.
Ducking behind a stack of wooden crates, you slid down to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest. You couldn't catch your breath. Your hands were shaking violently, the adrenaline crashing into a sickening wave of nausea. You pressed a hand to your throat, where the phantom sensation of his grip still lingered like a burn. Had Eddie lost control? You felt sick, a weird mix of terror and a twisted, confusing heat that you didn't want to acknowledge.
You buried your face in your hands, squeezing your eyes shut to stop the tears that were threatening to spill. You just needed a minute. You needed to be away from him. From everyone. Maybe you’d accidentally hit your head during all the falls.
"Five minute break, people!!" Gary’s voice shouted through the intercom system, echoing down the metal hall.
You sat in the semi-darkness, wrapping your arms around your legs, rocking yourself slightly. Just get through the shift, you told yourself. Just go home and never come back if he’s making you feel weird.
"Hey."
You jumped violently, smacking your head against the crate behind you.
Eddie was standing at the end of the aisle, silhouetted by the faint red glow of the exit sign. He wasn't wearing his robe anymore, just his shirt and jeans. He looked out of breath, his hair wild, his chest heaving like he’d also run the whole way here.
You pressed yourself back against the crates as he moved closer your heart rate spiking again.
"Go away, Eddie." Your voice shook slightly. "I'm on break."
"I know," he said softly. He didn't stop walking until he was right in front of you. He crouched down, bringing his face level with yours, blocking out the rest of the room. The dim light caught the intense, searching look in his eyes. "You ran away."
"You scared me." You blurted out. "You choked me. That wasn't supposed to be in the scene. You actually almost hurt me."
"I know." He repeated, reaching out, hesitantly, like he was afraid you'd bite, but when you didn't move, he rested his hand on your knee. His palm was hot, searingly so against your cold skin. "I got... Carried away. I saw you there, and I just wanted to..."
He trailed off, his gaze dropping to your lips, then back to your eyes. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted it to be real. For a second."
"It was too real. That’s the problem.”
"Shh," he murmured, shifting closer. He was crowding you again, trapping you in the small space between the crates. His hand brushed your hair away from your face, tracing the line of your jaw where the rubber knife had been. "Don't cry. Please. I hate it when you cry."
You hadn't even realized you were crying until he wiped a tear away with his thumb. His touch was impossibly gentle, a wild contrast to the violence from moments before.
"I swear to God I won't do it again," he whispered, leaning in closer. "I really like doing this with you. I don't wanna ruin it."
You looked at him, trapped between the crates and the boy who was slowly unraveling your sense of sanity. You wanted to run, but you were frozen, pinned by the softness in his voice and the darkness in his eyes.
"Just..." you took a shaky breath. "Just give me a sec."
"Okay," he said.
But he didn't leave. Instead of giving you space, he shifted his weight, moving from a crouch to sitting beside you, pressing his leg against yours. The heat of him was overwhelming. He turned his body toward you, one hand resting on the dusty floor, the other sliding from your knee, up your thigh, slow and deliberate.
Your breath hitched in your throat. You knew you should stop him. Push his hand off and tell him to get the hell away from you. But in your heart of hearts… You didn't want to.
His fingers curled around the inside of your thigh, squeezing gently, his thumb rubbing circles against the sensitive skin there. Your body reacted traitorously, a spark of arousal lighting up your nerves despite the fear still coursing through your veins. The combination was intoxicating in a way that both confused and thrilled you
"See?" Eddie whispered, face inches from yours, his eyes dark and fixed on your mouth. "You're shaking. But I don’t think it’s because you're scared."
"I am scared," you whispered back, though the protest felt weak, hollow.
"Are you?" He leaned in, his nose brushing against your cheek, inhaling the scent of your sweat and perfume. "Or are you just excited because deep down, you know I'm not really pretending, and you like it?"
He moved his hand higher, his knuckles grazing your skin as he rucked the fabric of your nightgown up slightly. The air in the room felt thick, suffocating. You were paralyzed, caught between the instinct to flee and the utterly sick need that his touch ignited in you. You hated yourself for it just a bit, but you leaned into him, just a fraction, letting him feel the tremor in your bones.
"Good girl," he murmured, his lips brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Let me have this?"
You nodded, even as his hand didn't stop. It slid higher, his rough palm hot on your inner thigh. The contrast was dizzying - the terrifying memory of his grip on your throat mixing with the searing heat of his touch now. You should have kicked him away. Screamed. Immediately raced to the security at the event. Something. But your body felt like lead, heavy and uncooperative, legs betraying you completely as they fell open just enough to grant him access.
"You're trembling," Eddie whispered. He wasn't looking at your face anymore; his gaze was fixed on where his hand disappeared under the nightgown. "I can hear your heartbeat.”
“No you can’t.” You mumbled, glancing away.
“Are you actually scared of me, or are you scared of how much you want this?"
"I don't..." You choked on the words, your breath hitching as his fingers brushed the edge of your underwear. "I don't know."
Eddie leaned in so that his forehead rested against your temple. "You don't have to know. You’re allowed to turn your brain off and just feel it.”
You shifted slightly.
“But if you really, really don’t wanna do this, I’ll stop.”
“What?”
“I like when you fight back. When you’re scared and stuff. But I’m not, like, a total monster. Two way street and all that shit. It’s not fun if we’re not both on the same page.”
You raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.” Eddie mirrored your facial expression. “If it’d make you feel better we could have a safe word.”
“Safe word?”
“Ah, so I guess you’ve never needed one before?” He chuckled. “It’s just a word we’d use if something goes a little too far. Everything stops, no questions asked.”
“I never said I wanted to do anything with you.”
Eddie looked utterly bemused. “Didn’t have to. I can see it in your eyes. Could since the night we met.”
You averted your gaze.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart.” You felt the coolness of his silver rings as he stroked your thigh. “Been told I have that effect on a lot of people.”
“Handsome and humble.” You muttered. He just laughed again.
“So, the way I see it you have two options,” he mused, tilting your head towards him with his free hand. “You pick a safe word and we see where this thing goes, or you tell me to fuck off and I never touch you outside of the context of work ever again.”
The air in the cramped storage space felt thick, suffocating, charged with the kind of electricity that made the hair on your arms stand up. You were trapped between a stack of crates and a guy who had just manhandled you in front of a crowd, but the only thing you could focus on was the pressure of his hand. The heat of his words, and the potential of what he was offering you.
Have a little fun. What’s the worst that could happen?
You barely know this guy, and he’s clearly into some weird stuff. Regardless of the fact that you might also be into it - that doesn’t make any of this a good idea.
Only one way to find out.
“Chainsaw.”
“Pardon?”
“You, uh, asked for a safe word. And that was the first thing I could think of.”
Eddie laughed. “Not bad. Chainsaw. I’ll definitely remember that.”
You shifted slightly. “So… What now?”
For a moment, neither of you moved or spoke. Then Eddie leaned a bit closer, his breath hot against your skin as his lips grazed the shell of your ear.
"You liked it out there, didn’t you?" He whispered, his voice so low it sent shivers down your spine.
“Out t-there?”
"When I grabbed you. When I showed everyone who you belong to."
“I didn’t -” your words left your mouth as a whimper, but they were weak, lacking any real conviction.
"I felt you," he insisted, his voice dropping another octave. His brown eyes were dark and hypnotic. "When I had you by the throat. You went soft. You fucking melted. You didn't want me to let go."
He pressed his palm against you, feeling you over the thin cotton of your underwear, and the friction made you gasp, your hips bucking involuntarily. You closed your eyes, but you could feel his lips curve into a smile on your jaw.
Eddie shifted his hand, slipping his fingers beneath the elastic. The sensation was raw and electric - his calloused skin against yours, cool rings biting into your thigh, the sheer audacity of where he was touching you in the grimy backstage of a haunted house. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and yet - a part of you was thrilled by it. You were at his mercy, completely under his control, and it seemed as though he wanted to take his sweet time to ruin you.
"So responsive," he groaned, his fingers sliding through your arousal, slick and hot. He seemed surprised by it, pleased, his confidence spiking. "Look at that. And you were trying to say you didn’t want to do anything with me."
"Eddie," you breathed out, your head falling back against a crate with a dull thud.
"I know, baby girl" he soothed, his thumb finding that sensitive bundle of nerves and circling it with a precision that made your vision white out. "Kinda overwhelming, right? Letting someone else hold the reins. Have all the control."
Despite the fact that you were due to go back to work at any moment, Eddie didn’t seem to care. He certainly wasn't rushing. In fact, he was savoring every second, playing your body like an instrument he'd been practicing on you for years. Every stroke felt like he was breaking you down piece by piece. He rubbed slow, tight circles, his other hand coming up to grip your hip, holding you steady as you started to squirm. He shifted his body to straddle your legs slightly so he could face you, watch your reactions.
"You're so wound up, sweetheart," Eddie murmured, his face buried in your neck, inhaling your scent again. “I can feel you fighting it. Just let go. Let me make it better."
He added pressure with his thumb, dragging a moan from your throat that you couldn't fully suppress. It felt shameful, how good it was. How quickly he had unraveled you with just a few touches. You were spiraling, the pleasure building fast and urgent, coiling tight in your belly as you rocked against his hand, desperate for more friction.
"That's it," he encouraged, his voice rough with arousal. "Don't hold back on me. I wanna hear what I do to you."
Without another word, he slipped a finger inside you, and the sudden intrusion made you cry out, your nails digging into his shoulder through his t-shirt. He curled it instantly, finding that spot that made your vision blur, working you with a ruthless efficiency that left you gasping for air.
"You feel incredible," he groaned against your skin, pumping his finger in and out, adding a second one to stretch you, to fill you up more. "So perfect. Like you were made for me. Shoulda know from the second I saw you."
“I -”
Eddie’s teeth grazed along your earlobe and you shuddered. “You like it, don’t you? Knowing anyone could walk in and see you like this. With me. You want that?”
He scissored his fingers inside of you and your back arched before you could formulate a snappy response. The shame was burning through you, but it was drowning in the tidal wave of pleasure. This whole time he’d been talking you through it, guiding you, telling you exactly what was happening to your body as if you were incapable of understanding it yourself. It was arrogant, dominating, and it was working on you in a big way. Whether you wanted to admit it out loud or not.
"You're close," he stated, reading the more frantic rhythm of your breathing, the way you were fluttering around his fingers. "I can feel it. You're squeezing me so hard. Fucking Christ."
He picked up the pace, his thumb working your clit while his fingers pumped inside you, the wet, obscene sounds of his movements filling the small space. The coil inside you was ready to break.
"Come for me," Eddie commanded, his voice low and rough, vibrating against your neck. "Be a good girl and let go. Give it to me."
He bit down gently on the sensitive skin of your throat, right over your pulse point, and that was it. The pleasure crashed over you, violent and blinding. Your back arched off the floor where you’d somehow slid during Eddie’s ministrations, a gasping moan tearing from your lips as your body convulsed around his hand. He didn't stop, milking it out of you, prolonging the aftershocks until you were a boneless, trembling mess in his arms.
Slowly, the world came back into focus. The dust particles dancing in the light from the exit sign, the distant sound of chainsaws revving up, the heavy, ragged sound of your own breathing.
Eddie pulled his hand away slowly, leaving you feeling achingly empty. He brought his fingers to his lips, tasting you, his eyes dark and fixed on yours with a satisfaction that bordered on terrifying.
"See?" he whispered, wiping his thumb across his lower lip. "That wasn't so scary, was it?"
So Much I Wanna Do - Eddie Munson x Reader - Part One
When you're paired with Eddie while working at a seasonal haunt event, tensions begin to rise with each passing night. Lines between reality and fantasy begin to blur. And no matter how many bruises you're covered in - you don't hate it.
Author's Note: I was like Many melatonins deep like a week & a half ago one night, & I was like lol Eddie would make such a good scareactor but his dramatic ass would probably take it too far - what if he took it too far in like, a dark romance-adjacent way? So. That's what this is. I think we're gonna be rockin with about 3-4 parts. enjoy!!
CW/TW: injury/bruises, eventual smut (not this chapter, but i'd classify it as cnc), banter, no use of y/n.
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The air inside the repurposed shipping container was thick enough to chew on. It hung heavy and stagnant, a noxious bouquet of aerosol hairspray, latex solvent, stale cigarette smoke, and the faint, sweet tang of drying fake blood was the official perfume of "Horror Hill.” The town of Hawkins’ premier - and only - haunted attraction during the months of September and October, And it was currently doing its best to induce a splitting migraine.
You were perched precariously on a wooden crate that threatened to splinter under you, hunched over a vanity mirror that looked like it had only barely survived a bar fight. Your reflection - complete with blood stains and extra-pronounced under-eye bags - stared back, looking moderately panicked. For the last ten minutes, you’d been attempting to wrestle the zipper of your corset-style dress into submission. The plastic teeth were jammed halfway up your spine, refusing to glide over the fabric mesh, or even slide back down so you could strip it off to see what the issue was.
"Come on," you gritted out, twisting your arm around at an unnatural angle once more. The skin of your shoulder pinched as the zipper made a half-hearted attempt to move before stopping again.
"Ouch. Son of a b-"
"Wardrobe malfunction, or mating dance?"
The voice was deep, raspy, and dripping with amusement.
You spun around so fast you nearly tipped the crate over, gaze snapping to the corner of the room, previously obscured by a costume rack.
Sitting on the floor next to a stack of supply crates like he owned the place, was a guy you definitely hadn’t seen during the excruciatingly boring orientation briefing. Nor had you seen him come in. He was currently engaged in lacing up a pair of heavy combat boots, pausing to look up at you. The first thing that hit you was the hair. A mane of dark, wild curls that defied gravity and seemed to have a personality of their own. The second thing was the rather unique ensemble - for Hawkins, at least - that he wore with such ease. heavy silver rings adorning nearly every finger, and a faded black band t-shirt peeking out from under an unbuttoned flannel and leather jacket.
He looked way less like a seasonal employee at some dumb Halloween event, and more like he was about to frontline for a heavy metal band. You wondered ever so briefly if he played an instrument.
"I'm going to go with 'mating dance,'" he continued as you didn’t respond. The guy flashing a grin that was equal parts crooked and charming, and it made your stomach flip pleasantly. "Though, I gotta say, the zipper seems to be winning. It's playing hard to get."
You narrowed your eyes at him, refusing to let him fluster you. "It’s not a mating dance. It’s a hostage situation. And I'm the hostage."
"Ah." He stood, the heavy thud of his boots vibrating through the metal floor of the container. He approached you, moving with a loose, easy grace. "Well, I specialize in hostage negotiations. If you’d like some help."
He stopped just barely outside of your personal space, close enough that you could smell him. The faint scent of cedarwood and tobacco enveloped you. It was infinitely better than the chemical fog filling the room.
"Turn around for me," he commanded gently, not really asking.
You hesitated for a split second before turning your back to him. "It’s stuck right in the middle. Either it’s caught on the fabric underneath, or the zipper is just fucked. Can’t move it either way."
You felt the warmth of his hands near your skin before he actually touched you. His fingers were calloused, the cool metal of his rings pressing briefly against your heated skin as he bent at the waist and inspected the damage. He didn't just yank at it immediately. He hummed a low, thoughtful tune, his exhaled breath ghosting over the back of your neck as he steadily worked the zipper. It shot a little chill up your spine.
"You know," he murmured, his voice dropping an octave as he focused seriously on the task. "Most people usually wait until they clock in to start acting terrified. You're jumping the gun."
"I'm not terrified," you lied, watching his focused expression in the mirror. "I'm annoyed. There's a difference."
He let out a low, rich chuckle that vibrated against your back. "Oh absolutely. It's a hostile world for pretty girls with broken zippers.”
“Shit, is it actually broken?” You turned to look back, but one of his hands shot to your waist, stilling your movements.
“Hold still.”
For another moment, he worked the zipper. Then, slowly, it finally gave. His knuckles grazed your spine with a purposeful precision that was annoyingly enticing. With a final, deft flick of his wrist, the slider clicked into place at the top. He removed his hand from your waist and smoothed both hands over your shoulders, adjusting the fabric, not pulling away immediately. The lingering felt intentional, heavy with unspoken interest.
"There," he said, finally stepping back but keeping his gaze locked on yours in the reflection as he gave a dramatic bow. "Hostage rescued. You're free to go, my lady."
You turned to face him, smoothing down the skirt of your dress and trying to regain your composure. He leaned back against another makeup table, crossing his arms over his chest and looking entirely too pleased with himself.
"Thanks," you said, gesturing vaguely to your back. "You're a lifesaver. Or a zipper-whisperer.”
“I’m normally not zipping them in the direction you needed, but you’re welcome. Anytime.”
Your face flushed slightly at his implication. “Ah. Is that a talent they teach in orientation?"
"Bypassed orientation.” He admitted with a shrug. "Figured I'd wing it. It's just performing and jumping out at people. How hard can it be?"
"I mean, it can take a bit of a physical toll if you’re not careful." You replied, glancing away and already thinking about the bubble bath you were planning on taking later. “So uh, what was your name again? Don’t think I caught it.”
“I didn’t throw it.”
“Good with zippers and funny.”
He smirked slightly, brown eyes glinting with mischief as he stuck out a ringed hand for you to shake. “Eddie. Eddie Munson. Alias Demonic Cult Leader over in house six.”
You raised an eyebrow but smiled despite yourself. Eddie did indeed have a magnetic, cult leader-esq energy that pulled you in. A chaotic and flirtatious sort of charm that made you want to… What? Sass him back? Rip all his clothes off? Find an excuse for him to touch you again?
You shook your head slightly as if trying to dispel water lodged inside your ears. Eddie looked at you curiously.
"Ooh, the cult leader. Ambitious, for your first year.”
“Oh?” Eddie looked intrigued.
“Normally Mr. Anderson doesn’t cast just anyone in that house. Since it’s more of a performance than just jumping out to scare people.”
“Guess I’m just that convincing.” He grinned. “Which reminds me - what are you supposed to be, exactly?”
You glanced down at your costume. “Depends on the night - but today I’m an undead pirate wench in house three. Lots of groaning and dragging myself along the floor. Super dignified. My parents are very proud.”
Eddie pushed off the table with a short laugh, closing the distance between the two of you again. He looked down at you, his expression softening from teasing to something more intense. You didn’t want to admit that it stole just a tiny bit of air from your lungs as he reached out, twirling a lock of your hair around his left index finger thoughtfully.
"Kinda like the sound of that.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. A damsel in distress... Sorta."
You huffed out a laugh, pulling back slightly. He let his hand drop to his side. “I’m not a damsel in distress.”
“You seemed pretty distressed earlier.”
Couldn’t argue with him there.
“I would’ve figured it out eventually.”
“Of course.” Eddie inched forward. “But what about now?”
“Huh?”
“Are you still distressed?”
“N-no.” You frowned, trying to ignore the heat that radiated off of his body as a result of his closeness, as well as the fact that he seemed to like the way he affected you.
“I really hope you’re better at scaring people than you are at lying.” Eddie’s voice dropped to a lower register, and goosebumps erupted across your skin. “Otherwise we’re gonna have a lotta really disappointed customers.”
“I’m not -“
“You’re shaking.”
“It’s chilly outside.”
“It’s not that -”
“I run cold.”
“Well, I run hot.” Eddie replied with a wicked grin. “So where does that leave us? Happy to help you again, if you’d be interested.”
At some point during the exchange, you’d backed up enough that you were just inches from the wall of the shipping container. Just one more shuffle backwards and he could’ve had you caged against the wall. Not that you didn’t want him to, exactly. But you’d met him less than ten minutes ago, according to the clock on the wall.
Shit. Almost showtime.
“Well, gates open in twenty. So I’ll have to pass.” You responded, fighting to keep the tremor from your voice.
"Alright, alright. No need to get flustered on me, sweetheart." The endearment rolled off his tongue effortlessly, natural as breathing. He hooked his thumbs through his belt loops, rocking back on his heels after taking a few steps away. "I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot of each other if you change your mind. Or if you have any more… Wardrobe malfunctions."
"I’ll keep that in mind," you said, feeling a smile tugging at your lips even as your brain screamed that this guy was, in all likelihood, not great news. What could a little banter hurt? You’d probably never see him again after the event was done. "Have fun sacrificing virgins tonight, or whatever it is you’re doing."
Eddie grinned. "How’d you know my after-work plans?”
“Oooh, scary.”
“Do you have reason to be worried?”
Heat rose to your face and you prayed it wasn’t visible under your makeup. “If that’s your only sacrifice criteria - then no. I’m perfectly safe.”
“Duely noted.” Eddie laughed, sobering as a gaggle of chatty performers entered the room, all in various stages of having their makeup and costumes on.
A few of them greeted you before dispersing to cake on more blood, or touch up latex prosthetics. He glanced at them before turning back to you as you sidestepped him to gather your things and go to your assigned role for the evening.
"Break a leg," he called out as you headed for the door. "Or don't. I heard medical is understaffed tonight."
You gave him a thumbs up before stepping out into the cool night air. As you walked away, heading through the fog-filled haunt, you felt a strange prickle on the back of your neck. A distinct feeling of being watched. You shook it off, chalking it up to the eerie atmosphere and the anticipation of the first night of scares.
But you didn't look back.
If you had, you would have seen Eddie Munson no longer inside, against the table with a lazy grin and finding someone else to chat up. He was standing by the open door, watching you walk away into the dark. The playful deviousness had vanished from his face, replaced by something darker. Hungrier. Utterly fixated. He didn’t appear to be looking at just another coworker. He was looking at what appeared to be the only real thing in a sea of plastic props and fake blood. Eddie was intrigued. And he had already decided he wasn't letting you go that easily.
Over the next week, the shipping container and the fog-labyrinth of Hawkins’ Horror Hill became the exclusive domain of your strange dynamic with Eddie Munson. He didn’t feel like just a coworker - more of a constant, chaotic presence.
The man had a terrifyingly impressive talent for materializing out of the smoke machine haze right when you needed a distraction or someone to chat with. On your breaks, he’d steal sips of your lukewarm soda, regale you with conspiracy theories about why the animatronic clown out front kept malfunctioning, and always sit just a little closer than a normal casual acquaintance should.
The friendship felt rather fast, cemented by shared misery and the kind of banter that only develops when you're both covered in real sweat and fake blood. You found yourself seeking him out before the night began, perching on the crate next to him after you’d gotten ready.
You enjoyed the way he’d mock the groups of high school jocks, launching into high-pitched, nasal imitations of them at every opportunity. In return, you provided him with your own real-life horror stories of the last few years that you’d worked here, which reliably sent him into fits of cackling laughter.
It was easy. Electric, even. Honestly, it was probably the only thing keeping you from quitting. You’d already decided that this was going to be the final year lurking in the fog. Leave the terrorizing of paying guests to the high school and college kids of the town from then on.
But by Saturday night, most of the novelty of the job had worn off, replaced by a grim reality. The autumn air had turned biting, the wind whipping through the cornfields that surrounded the haunt with a vicious chill. The sprung tents and barns that housed the walk-through haunted houses provided little warmth or relief for anyone - especially the performers.
The head of the event, a man named Gary Anderson whose soul seemed to have been crushed by years of minimum-wage management, gathered the shivering actors before opening one evening in the “backstage” area. You found yourself involuntarily inching closer to Eddie for a bit of warmth. He hadn’t been lying. He did run hot. Very hot.
"We need more intensity!" Mr. Anderson shouted over the wind, his voice cracking like a pre-teen boy's. "The word on the street is that the farm in the next town over the road got the cops called on them because the guests were convinced someone was actually getting murdered in one of the houses.”
“D-did they?” A blonde freshman girl asked nervously. You recognized her from the zombie apocalypse house.
“Did they what?” Anderson looked annoyed.
“Did someone actually die?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Probably not. Who cares.” He began to flip through pages on his clipboard, pulling a red marker from his pocket. “Point is - we need to up our game and really sell this as the premiere tri-county haunt event it’s been for the last fifteen years. We need more panic, terror, gore -”
You felt Eddie’s lips brush the shell of your ear as he leaned in close. “I think he kinda actually wants someone to die.”
“You volunteering, Munson?” You whispered back.
Before he could retort anything, Anderson’s shrill voice cut him off. “In order to make sure everyone’s talents truly shine in the most frightening way possible - we're swapping some positions."
“Pardon?” A bespeckled young man with a dramatic burn prosthetic cocked his head. “But we already -”
“I stayed up all night figuring out who would be best in which locations.” Anderson snapped, cutting him off. “As well as reworking some of the scenes in the houses for maximum terror.”
“Didn’t realize this was such a production.” Eddie murmured, half to himself, half to you.
“It normally isn’t.” You conceded. “Must be scared we’re losing money.”
“Hey - you.” Anderson was suddenly right in front of you, stabbing a finger in your face. "You're moving over to house six. You're gonna be our cult sacrifice."
You raised an eyebrow. “House six already has a sacrifice.”
Mr. Anderson looked annoyed. “It has a bloody dummy on an altar. Now it has you. Take this and go to costuming and change. Then meet Mr. Munson and I over at the house in fifteen, and we’ll go over what you’ll be doing.” He shoved a scrap of paper into your hand with the words Cult Sacrifice scribbled in what appeared to be blue crayon.
“I -”
“Go.”
With a sigh and a shrug, you left as he began barking out new house and role assignments to many of your fellow haunt performers. Eddie watched you leave, fighting back a dark smile.
The costume you were given was a travesty. While much more comfortable and flowy than your pirate corset, or most of your other ones - you were quite certain that you would freeze to death before you even got to the altar room in house six.
You stood in front of the cheap mirror in the costume trailer in a thin, practically sheer nightgown made of cheap cotton and trimmed with lace. It was stained with fake blood in strategic places, but still offered zero insulation against the forty-degree weather. It hit just below your knees, and the neck was a deep V, held up by two flimsy pastel ribbons that looked ready to tear at any second.
"Great," you muttered, staring at your reflection. Whatever Gary was going for - you hoped the money was worth it. The event didn’t open for a bit, so you kept on your thick socks and pulled an oversized sweatshirt over your head. You’d take them off later.
By the time you got to house six, your teeth were already chattering. Eddie was waiting. He looked the part of the Cult Leader perfectly—black robe hanging open to reveal a torn button-down, his face hollowed out with shadows mimicking a skull design.
“Whatcha wearin?” Eddie asked, good naturedly gesturing to your top. “Didn’t realize my cult sacrifice went to the local community college.”
“Temporary adjustment.” You yanked up the sweatshirt halfway so he could see what you’d actually be wearing. “Classy, right?”
To your confusion, Eddie went still as gaze swept over you. Taking in what he could see of your bare shoulders down to the hem of the nightgown. His jaw worked silently, and you saw his throat bob as he swallowed hard. Something in your gut twisted in delight at the idea that he found your look at all attractive.
"You look..." He started, then stopped, his voice coming out rough and strained. "You look like you're going to turn into a popsicle before the first group even clears the gate."
"Perceptive as always." You let the sweat fall back down and wrapped your arms around yourself in a futile attempt to generate some heat. “If I freeze to death in the name of Gary making a few extra bucks - remember me fondly, would you?”
"Fuck, Gary's an idiot." Eddie replied, tearing his eyes away from your legs with visible effort. He shifted his weight, gripping the hilt of his rubber knife until his knuckles turned white.
“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” Anderson’s unamused voice cut through the air as he entered, looking frazzled as ever. He shot daggers at Eddie, but glanced at you and let out a low whistle as you pulled your sweatshirt off. You did your best to avoid scowling. “Lookin’ good, sweetie.”
“You inappropriately flirt with all your employees, Gary?” Eddie muttered.
Your boss chose to ignore him in favor of gesturing to the hallway/stage area where you and Eddie’s scene would take place and replay throughout the night.
“Alright, you two. Here’s the deal.” He pointed to the first part of the hallway - usually reserved for the cult leader to stalk through and jump out at random passersby. “You’ll start from here. Eddie, you chase her, and just before she reaches the curtain that separates this section from the next - tackle her.”
“Tackle me?” You frowned. “You didn’t say anything about -”
“There’s mats on the ground.” Gary sounded annoyed. “And Eddie’ll be careful, right? You’re not gonna break her?”
Eddie glanced at you, as if debating his answer. “No, sir.”
“Great. Anyway,” your boss continued. “You’ll scream, fight him, beg for your life, whatever. Improvise. I don’t care, just make it look like he’s terrifying.”
“Sure.”
“The strobe lights are gonna go out for about ten seconds - and in that time, Eddie, pick her up and get her past these curtains to the altar room, where you’ll -”
“He can just drag me.” You interrupted. “I don’t want him to like. Drop me. Or throw his back out.”
“Who’s in charge here?”
“I’m just saying -”
“Can it, missy.”
Eddie stepped forward, looming slightly over Mr. Anderson, who shrank back slightly. “We’ll rehearse it and figure out what works best.”
“Fine. Whatever. Point is, get her over to the altar, and then pretend to kill her. The lights’ll go out again, and you’ll both slip behind this backdrop and run back to the beginning. Then you do it all over again. Capeesh?”
“Capeesh.”
“Great. Run it a few times and I’ll do a walkthrough later to let ya’ll know if you need to change anything.” Gary wrote something on his clipboard as he walked away before calling over his shoulder something about the gates opening in fifteen.
"Okay," Eddie’s voice had dropped an octave, shifting into his stage persona, but his eyes were intense, focused entirely on you. "So, wanna try to escape me before I get you?"
You tried to ignore the way your heart rate picked up at his words. "Y-yeah. Sounds good."
"Don’t worry, I have exquisite control. You’ll be fine.” A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
You rolled your eyes, moving to your starting mark near the entrance. "See, when you say it like that I get worried.”
“You wound me, sweetheart. I take your safety so seriously.”
You smoothed your nightgown. “Tell that to those thin mats I have to fall on. So much for safety first.”
"I think it’s safety third here," he corrected. "Let's go."
You took a deep breath and started to run, feigning terror and allowing a scream of terror echo through the silent building. Your bare feet slapped against the cold concrete as you bolted.
"Please! Somebody help me!"
Eddie burst from the shadows seconds later, lunging after you. You turned on your mark at the edge of the mats, allowing him to tackle you to the ground. The impact knocked some of the wind out of you, and you tried to scramble backwards. His arms were still locked around your waist,
"Got you," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest and into yours.
"No! Let me go!" You struggled against his hold, which didn’t seem to loosen at all.
But Eddie didn't let go.
He held you there under him, his face inches from your own. There was something in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Or maybe you just hadn’t noticed. Something dark and terrifying. And rather thrilling.
Eddie pressed down a little harder, pinning you there with his hips, one hand braced beside your head, the other holding the rubber knife against your ribs. The remaining air left your lungs in a rush. Up close, the intoxicating scent of him overpowered the stale smell of the haunt. He was close. So close. Too close.
"You're trembling," he murmured, his voice dropping to a whisper.
"I'm acting," you breathed back, though your pulse was hammering so loudly you feared he’d hear it. "It's the c-cold."
"Is it?" He leaned in. "Because I think you're lying."
The banter and sense of theatricality were gone, swallowed by the sudden, suffocating tension between you. This didn’t feel like a quick rehearsal anymore. You were acutely aware of how little clothing you were wearing, the sheer fabric doing nothing to stop the heat radiating off his body. You’d been so focused on his face that you hadn’t realized his knee had slid between your legs, nudging them apart. Upon feeling the friction, you let out a sound that was half-protest, half-something else entirely.
"Eddie," you warned, your voice wavering.
He grinned, a flash of white teeth in the darkness that surrounded the two of you, suddenly lightening his hold and allowing you to scramble up before he grabbed you once more. He dragged you through the curtain that divided the “scenes” by your upper arm, spinning your back towards the altar set piece. With a shove that looked far more dramatic than it actually was, he released you. Your lower back hit the painted wood, and you toppled backwards, landing hard on your elbows as your lower half dangled off the edge of the altar.
The air between you ignited once more as Eddie closed in on you. He was heavy, solid, and everywhere, his thighs trapping your legs as he leaned over you. The billowing robes created a canopy around your bodies as he pinned your wrists above your head with his upstage hand, his grip bruisingly tight.
"P-please," you whispered, looking up at him with wide eyes. You weren’t even sure if that was your line. It sounded pathetic, breathless. “Let g-go.”
Eddie paused, the rubber knife hovering over your chest. He was panting slightly, his minty breath ghosting over your face. His gaze dropped to your lips, then lower, to the rapid rise and fall of your chest beneath the thin nightgown.
For a split second, his grip on your wrists tightened. His thumb pressed your pulse point, as if testing to see the physical effect he had on you. Shifting his hips, he pressed them a bit more against yours, and you felt the undeniable evidence of just how much he was enjoying the “rehearsal”. It didn’t feel like he was acting anymore. While part of you was excited, the other part was rather alarmed.
"You beg so pretty," he murmured, his voice rough but almost reverent. You felt the rubber knife trace along your jawline. "Makes me wanna keep you."
“What the hell, Eddie?”
The man above you retracted his limbs with violent suddenness, scrambling off you and back to his feet. “Fuck. Shit. Sorry. I-”
“Got a little carried away?” You muttered, as he offered you a hand, but refused to meet your eyes. You took it, noticing that his grip was still bruising as he hauled you upright. You swayed slightly, the blood rushing back into your extremities, your skin tingling with a leftover electricity that felt wrong and right all at once.
“Yeah. I… Dunno what happened.” Eddie cleared his throat roughly, adjusting his robe with sharp, aggressive tugs. "That was, uh, let's run it again. Faster this time. Now that we’ve got the movements down.”
You nodded silently, smoothing down the sheer nightgown and taking a shaky breath. You felt shaken, electrified, and a little sick with a confusing cocktail of emotions. Maybe Eddie was just a method actor lost in the zone. Or maybe you'd just let a predator pin you down twice and had enjoyed the thrill of it.
But as he turned back, his eyes dark and fixed solely on you, you realized with a jolt of shame that you were hoping it was the latter.
By the time the final strobe light flickered and died, signaling the end of the night, you felt like you’d gone ten rounds with a freight train. The adrenaline that had kept you vibrating at a high frequency was fading fast, leaving a heavy, aching exhaustion in its wake.
The "scene" had been a gauntlet. Over and over, groups of guests had shuffled through, shrieking as Eddie chased you down the hallway and watching in terror as he “sacrificed” you upon the altar.
You’d thrown yourself into the role, screaming yourself hoarse, clawing at the floor, thrashing in his grip. The chill was gone, and a sheen of sweat coated your body from exertion. And maybe other emotions, as well.
And as for Eddie... Eddie was terrifying. He was fully committed. Every time he tackled you, every time he pinned you to the ground, there was a ferocity to it that felt almost too real. The audience loved him, and he ate it up.
Meanwhile, you were covered in a layer of dust and grime - knees scraped raw and you knew you’d be sporting a spectacular collection of bruises on your arms and ribs tomorrow from both being thrown around and also where he’d grabbed you. Purple fingerprints had already begun to bloom on your skin like dark flowers.
The physical toll was the easy part to process. It was the other stuff that was proving to be far more confusing. The way your stomach clenched with a sick heat when his weight settled on you. How his breath felt hot against your neck and made you shiver with desire even when he was whispering threats. The way he looked at you.
At the end of the night, you changed your clothes into something far warmer and collected your things. You just wanted to go home. Soak in a hot bath, and scrub off the stage blood, as well as the confusing, electric charge that seemed to cling to your skin like secondhand smoke.
Stepping out into the night air was a relief. The makeshift parking lot just off the country road was mostly empty. The silence felt heavy after hours of screaming as you walked towards your car.
"Hey! Wait up!"
The shout made you jump, your nerves still raw. You turned to see Eddie jogging after you. He had scrubbed off most of his makeup, though traces of shadows still clung stubbornly to the corners of his eyes and hairline. It gave him a feral, sleep-deprived look. He looked wrecked, given that the night had probably been nearly as taxing on him as it was on you, but he was grinning.
"Shouldn't walk out here alone," he said, falling into step beside you, his presence looming large in the dark. "You never know what kind of psycho is lurking in the shadows."
You shot him a dry look, though your pulse kicked up a notch. "Says the guy playing a cultist who just spent eight hours tackling me to the ground."
"Exactly," he said, bumping his shoulder against yours. The contact was solid, grounding. "I know how they think. I'm probably your best defense."
Eddie walked you all the way to your vehicle, leaning against the door as you fished for your keys. The silence between you wasn't uncomfortable, but it was charged. He kept looking at you, his eyes tracing the line of your jaw, the way you huddled into your sweatshirt. It felt like he was undressing you with his eyes, stripping away the layers to see what lay underneath the fear and the adrenaline.
"Uh, thanks." You said softly, finally unlocking the door. "And thanks for... you know. Not actually sacrificing me tonight. Kinda seemed like you wanted to for a sec there."
Eddie laughed, a low, rumbling sound that seemed to vibrate inside your chest. "Well, you kept gettin’ away. You're slippery when you want to be."
"I try." You murmured, opening the door.
"You two!"
The shout cut through the quiet night air, making you both jump. Gary was running at you from the entrance of the main building, looking uncharacteristically pleased with himself.
"Just wanted to catch you before you took off," he said, beaming. "Feedback was incredible tonight. People were saying house six was the scariest it’s been in years. The 'cult sacrifice' angle? People love your dynamic."
You forced a smile, leaning tiredly against your car door, hoping the darkness hid the flush on your cheeks. People are weird. "That's great, Gary. Glad we could help."
"So, I'm making it permanent," Gary said, checking something off on his clipboard with a satisfied scratch. "I know I made some changes earlier tonight - but you two are staying in the house for the rest of the season. No more swapping. Whatever the hell you two are doing, it’s working for people."
You felt a sudden spike of something - nerves? dread? a dark, curling heat? - in your stomach. "The whole rest of the season?"
"Absolutely," Gary said firmly. "If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. Same time tomorrow, alright?"
With a final nod, Gary turned and marched away, leaving you standing there in the dim glow of temporary parking lot lights.
You glanced at Eddie, expecting him to crack a joke or do a little mock-salute. But he wasn't laughing. He was staring at Gary’s retreating back, his expression unreadable in the shadows. Then, slowly, his gaze shifted to you. There was an intense, focused look in his eyes. It wasn't the look of a coworker who was happy to keep a good gig. It was darker than that. Like the look of a wolf who had just been told the sheep pen would remain unlocked.
"Well," you said, trying to break the tension that suddenly felt thick enough to choke on. "See you tomorrow, I guess."
Eddie pushed himself off the car and stepped closer, crowding into your space. He reached out, his fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. His touch lingered, his thumb grazing your cheekbone, his skin rough and cold.
"Guess so," His voice dropped an octave, private and low. "Try to get some rest, sweetheart. You're gonna need it."
With that, he turned and walked away toward his van, hands shoved deep in his pockets, leaving you standing by your open car door. You stood frozen for a long moment, unsure if his words excited or terrified you. But as you climbed into the driver's seat and gripped the steering wheel to steady your shaking hands, one thing was clear: working with Eddie wasn't just acting anymore. And you weren't sure you wanted it to be.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: +18 MDNI, HEAVY DARK CONTENT! Graphic violence and extreme gore, torture and prolonged physical abuse, racism, fatphobia, degradation against a body type, bodily harm, descriptions of racism, heavy description of torture, wounds, humiliation. Dead Dove, Do Not Eat.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2,7K
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: The quiet town of Hawkins, Indiana has been ravaged by unexplained and sudden murders, bringing terror and panic to the population. Five friends find themselves cornered by a mysterious and sadistic masked figure and forced to reveal their darkest secrets. In a sadistic game, the winner is not the one who comes out alive.
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: we're getting close hihi. TAGLIST IS OPEN!
𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
Ghostface turned his attention to Carol's trembling figure, her eyes rolled back and her head thrown back, her mouth agape as she drooled and convulsed in her chair. "But enough about her," he continued, his voice taking on a sing-song tone. "It's time to get back to our little game."
With a flourish, he once again drew the knife from the depths of his cloak — where he had placed it before — and resumed pacing, his eyes gleaming with distorted excitement behind the mask as he watched his captive audience, the climax of his game drawing ever closer.
"Eenie, meenie, miney, moe," he chanted once more, the words a macabre rhyme echoing through the room. "Grab the victim by the toe. If they scream, let them go…"
The air crackled with tension as the masked figure loomed over each trembling figure, his face a mask of pure malevolence. With each verse of the twisted rhyme, the anticipation grew, the fear intensified with each passing moment.
Ghostface's gaze fixed on Jason, his eyes gleaming with predatory intensity as he approached his chosen victim, the impatience to maintain the act slowly waning with each passing minute.
Jason's heart pounded in his chest at the sound of his name being uttered by his captor, cold sweat breaking out on his brow as he realized he was next in line to face the masked tormentor's perverse game.
"Well, well, well, Jason," Ghostface taunted, his voice a chilling whisper that seemed to echo in the silence of the room. "Looks like you're next."
Jason swallowed hard, his breath shallow and ragged. He tried to quiet his mind and prepare for what was to come, failing in the process.
He looked in your direction with pleading eyes, as if he wanted you to take his place and spare him for a few more minutes before his fate was sealed in blood.
Jason felt the sharp point of the knife before he saw it. “Who said you could look at her?” The pile of black fabric blocked Jason’s view of you. “She can’t help you, and even if she could… I would never allow it.” Ghostface pressed the knife against the boy’s cheek until he turned his face back to the center of the room. The heavy presence remained beside Jason, not allowing him to look at you again, a clear warning that should not be ignored.
Ghostface hovered over the boy, his masked face just inches from his. With a swift, almost casual movement, he reached out and removed the gag that had silenced Jason's voice, allowing him to breathe freely once more.
Jason breathed deeply and unevenly, the cold air of the room filling his lungs as he tried to regain his balance. He blinked, his eyes adjusting to the dim light as he met the chilling gaze of Ghostface's mask, which stood beside him like a guard dog. But whose?
"Thank you," Jason managed to croak, his voice hoarse from the hours of silence.
Ghostface stared at him, rolling his eyes and curling his lips in mockery, the mask revealing none of his intentions. "You're welcome," he replied, his voice low and dry.
"Are you going to… hurt me?" his voice trembled at the overwhelming and suffocating presence of the masked man.
He snorted in amusement. Yes. "It all depends on you, Jason," he lied enigmatically.
Jason's voice trembled as he began to speak, his words full of shame and regret. "I… I have a secret," he confessed, his voice almost a whisper.
The room fell silent as Ghostface and the others turned their attention to him, their eyes fixed on him with a mixture of curiosity and boredom.
"I… I bullied someone," Jason continued, his voice growing stronger as he forced the words out. "His name was Eddie." You made a sound of recognition at the mention of that name, drawing Ghostface's attention to you, who promptly turned so that he was facing the two of you as if he were expecting something.
"I made people think he was a freak, but the truth is… the truth is that I liked him." Jason's voice trembled as he forced himself to continue, each word a painful admission of his own cowardice and cruelty.
You stared at Jason, your eyebrows furrowed in… something you weren’t sure what it was, but were about to find out.
“I… I bullied Eddie,” he began, his voice almost inaudible as he struggled to pronounce the words through the lump in his throat. “I made his life a living hell… Spread rumors about him, mocked him in front of everyone.” You felt gloved fingers press against the frown that had formed on your forehead, softening it with a delicate, almost gentle touch.
His fingers slid along your hairline until his hand rested entirely on your head as if he were about to stroke your hair again. “What are you doing?” Jason watched the scene, dumbfounded by what he saw.
Without removing his hands from you, Ghostface drew the knife again and pressed it against the boy’s cheek more aggressively. “Did I tell you to stop talking, you bastard?” His cheek burned from the small cut made by the knife tip. "Keep talking, now!"
He took a deep breath to organize his jumbled thoughts and resumed his confession.
"I… I insulted him," he continued, his voice growing stronger with each painful admission. "I told everyone he was worthless, a freak… I made sure he knew he didn't belong there." He kept glancing at you, dumbfounded by the captor's attitude, who seemed to ignore him in favor of caressing you. What the hell was going on?
"And the worst part…" Jason's voice faltered, breaking as he forced himself to tell the truth. "The worst part is that I did it because… because I liked him."
"But he would never be with someone like me," Jason choked, his voice choked with the weight of his own self-loathing. "He was too good for me, he was everything I could never be."
The room fell silent. Jason looked at his friends for any reaction, but found only the grotesque scene of Tammy and Carol slumped in the chair, eyes wide and mouths agape, fighting for their lives after the torture. He didn't even look at Tommy, who still lay unconscious in the chair, probably dead or on his deathbed.
A choked sound of suppressed laughter reached his ears, and he stared incredulously at Ghostface, the sound echoing off the walls with a resonance bordering on mockery and arrogance. "Jesus Christ," he taunted, his voice overflowing with scorn. "You're more pathetic than I thought you were. 'He was everything I could never be?' You didn't even know him, Jason, you knew the version you believed to be the true one."
Jason recoiled at the words, his face flushed with humiliation as Ghostface's cruel laughter filled the room.
"You bullied someone because you couldn't handle your own feelings?" he continued, his voice heavy with contempt. "Pathetic."
"Well, Jason," his voice cut through the heavy silence like a blade. His hands never letting go of you, as if that small act was the only thing keeping him grounded. "As amusing as your little confession is, that wasn't the secret I was looking for." Jason's heart sank at his words, the color draining from his face as he realized the true extent of his vulnerability. He had bared his soul, exposed his darkest secret, only to discover he had completely missed the mark.
"What… what do you mean?" Jason stammered, his voice trembling with fear and confusion.
His eyes gleamed with malicious amusement as he approached the boy's face, his presence looming over Jason like a specter of destruction. "Your secret, Jason," he hissed, his voice overflowing with contempt. "The one that truly haunts you… is far deeper than your pathetic little crush."
Jason's voice trembled with a mixture of despair and resignation as he spoke. "I… I don't have any other secrets," he confessed, his words almost inaudible amidst the heavy silence that enveloped the room. "Nothing important enough for you to remember like that."
Ghostface's laughter echoed through the room, a cruel symphony of mockery that cut Jason like a knife. "Oh, Jason, Jason, Jason," he taunted, his voice overflowing with contempt. "You really are a pathetic human being, aren't you?"
Jason shuddered at the harsh words, his heart sinking even deeper into despair. He had hoped his confession would earn him some kind of mercy, but it seemed Ghostface had other plans.
His voice softened slightly, a hint of amusement coloring his words as he approached the blond boy.
"Well, well, well, Jason," he said, in an almost playful tone. "Since you've been cooperating so much, I think I can give you a hint."
"Here's your hint," he whispered, his voice low and menacing. "Men's locker room, gym class, energy drinks…"
"I know what you're talking about," he said, his voice firm despite the turmoil that assailed him.
Ghostface's voice cut through the silence like a blade, his tone overflowing with skepticism. "Seriously?" he repeated, his words laden with a mocking tone. "Then tell me, Jason. What do you think you've discovered?"
Jason's voice overflowed with disdain as he recounted the events of that fateful gym class, his words laden with a cruel satisfaction that sent shivers down the spine of anyone who listened.
"It's so pathetic that my secret is this," Jason began, his tone overflowing with contempt as he rolled his eyes in disdain.
"There was a guy in our class, I don't remember his name, he was practically invisible at our school, you know?" He grinned proudly as he spoke. "He was a really fat guy, obese, he looked like a pig about to be slaughtered, always sweating and wheezing as if even speaking was a difficult task for him. It was ridiculous, honestly, pitiful."
As he spoke, an ironic smile appeared on Jason's lips, his amusement at the memory evident in the glint of his eyes.
"One day, the guys and I decided to have some fun and try to help that fatso," Jason continued, his voice full of malice. "We noticed that he always drank some kind of energy drink before gym class, I guess to try to at least get through a few minutes of the activities, and let's be honest about it, it clearly didn't work since he remained that size." He smirked and raised his eyebrows in amusement and sarcasm.
“So we put some kind of pre-workout in his drink. It was a powder that me and the guys took with Gatorade when we needed extra energy for games; the recommended dose for athletes is half a dose, but we decided to put in two doses just to see how long the pig could last on the track. He was huge; we figured half a dose wouldn't even tickle that fat boar.”
A cruel laugh erupted from deep within Jason as he remembered the scene that had unfolded before his eyes, the impotent struggle of his unsuspecting victim filling him with a repugnant sense of satisfaction.
“He drank it all in a few seconds and went straight to class, but the idiot couldn't even run half the track; in the middle of the circuit he fell to the ground clutching his chest and convulsing,” Jason laughed, his smile widening into a triumphant grin.
"It seems he had a cardiac arrhythmia and his heart almost stopped or something, the coach called an ambulance and the paramedics said he was suffering from early-stage dehydration and almost had a heart attack, that's why he couldn't run. But, hey, he deserved it, right? I was just trying to help him exercise and lose a few pounds, the guy was so huge he almost had to sit on two chairs at school." He laughed as if it were funny to almost cause someone's death.
But as the echoes of Jason's laughter faded into the darkness, a heavy silence settled over the room, the weight of his callous words hanging in the air like a dark cloud as you watched in horror at the words and lack of remorse of the boy you called a friend.
Ghostface's mask remained impassive, but his eyes revealed a glint of disgust and disdain as he listened to the callous account. The distorted satisfaction in Jason's voice and his attitude toward his actions irritated his sense of morality — somewhat ironically — leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
For a moment, Ghostface said nothing, the silence stretching between them like an abyss of judgment.
"You find pleasure in the suffering of others," Ghostface stated, his tone cutting through the air like a whip, his voice cold and heavy as a block of ice. "You mock someone for their appearance, their struggles, their humanity. And you dare call that help?" There was no trace of amusement in his words, only a raw contempt for Jason's blatant cruelty. His mask may have hidden his expression, but the weight of his condemnation hung heavy in the air, casting a veil over the room.
"You're nothing but a bully, Jason," Ghostface continued, his voice low and menacing. "And bullies like you don't deserve compassion or forgiveness. Only shame.
"Are you ready for your punishment, Jason?" His tone overflowed with malice as he asked the trembling figure before him.
"But you said—" The tip of the knife pressed against Jason's lips.
With a malicious glint in his eyes, the masked figure snapped his fingers, and Freddy stepped forward, emerging from the shadows and heading towards the forgotten bag on the floor, picking up a small briefcase.
Ghostface opened the briefcase with precision and murmured as he chose, he looked at Jason again and chuckled softly.
He brandished a syringe and a medical vial filled with a potent cocktail of adrenaline and energizers that he had prepared earlier, sticking the needle into the seal and sucking the liquid until the syringe was full, tapping it a few times to break up any bubbles that had formed. Before closing the briefcase, he took out a puncture band and a catheter and handed them to Freddy, together they approached Jason with an air of malevolent glee, eager to subject him to their nightmarish torture.
Without saying a word, Freddy gagged him again before he could protest again and tied the tourniquet around the boy's biceps, waiting until the veins dilated. Seconds later, he inserted the catheter needle into Jason's vein and wiggled it from side to side, searching for the best position. Seeing the blood flowing back through the catheter, Freddy injected the syringe needle into the tubing and applied the deadly mixture directly into his bloodstream.
After a few seconds, Jason's heart began to race faster and faster due to the adrenaline, pounding against his chest with an intensity bordering on agony. His muscles tensed painfully as he groaned in agony, his body writhing against the restraints as the stimulants coursed through his veins like fire.
Freddy leaned closer, his grotesque mask looming over him. "You thought you could escape punishment, Jason," he hissed, his voice overflowing with malice. "But in this nightmare, there is no mercy."
As adrenaline coursed through Jason's veins, his vision blurred and his senses spun out of control. Every nerve in his body screamed in protest, but he remained conscious, trapped in a hellish limbo between life and death.
Sweat poured buckets from his skin as his body struggled to control his impulses. He felt weak and on the verge of fainting, yet his heart seemed to race even faster. He felt himself foaming at the mouth and choking on his saliva because of the gag that prevented the foam from escaping completely, and as he choked, his eyes began to roll back in his skull with the onset of a convulsion and a heart attack.
Ghostface watched with sick fascination as Jason's torment unfolded before his eyes. He reveled in the suffering, savoring every agonizing sigh and tortured groan that escaped his lips.
But his sadistic pleasure was short-lived, for while Jason teetered on the brink of oblivion, he turned to you with chilling intensity.
You are the only one who hasn't confessed yet, the only one who hasn't exposed your sins to this perverted judge.
"Well, well, well, looks like it's your lucky day," Ghostface quips, his words mixed with a chilling blend of sarcasm and sadism. "Or should I say, your unlucky day?"
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: +18 MDNI, HEAVY DARK CONTENT! Graphic violence and extreme gore, torture and prolonged physical abuse, racism, fatphobia, degradation against a body type, bodily harm, descriptions of racism, heavy description of torture, wounds, humiliation. Dead Dove, Do Not Eat.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2,7K
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: The quiet town of Hawkins, Indiana has been ravaged by unexplained and sudden murders, bringing terror and panic to the population. Five friends find themselves cornered by a mysterious and sadistic masked figure and forced to reveal their darkest secrets. In a sadistic game, the winner is not the one who comes out alive.
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: we're getting close hihi. TAGLIST IS OPEN!
𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
He looked in your direction with pleading eyes, as if he wanted you to take his place and spare him for a few more minutes before his fate was sealed in blood.
a little blurb of what’s cooking. To all wonderful writers 🌹
Warning: masturbation
The flowers were from Dustin.
The oranges were from Max. The magazine was from Gareth.
It arrived on day four of Eddie's recovery, still in its plastic sleeve, slid onto the bed with no explanation and no eye contact.
His right arm was bandaged from wrist to shoulder. Moving too fast still made something in his ribs protest loudly. He was bored completely out of his mind and had been staring at the same water stain on the hospital ceiling for six hours and counting.
He picked up the magazine.
It was Hustler. Of course it was. Gareth had probably bought it at a gas station and died internally in the process.
Eddie peeled the plastic sleeve off with his good hand and flipped through it with the idle curiosity of a man who had nothing else going on. The pictures were fine. He turned to the fiction section, as a known literature lover…
He almost missed it.
He was halfway through a story on page forty-seven when something snagged. He went back. Read the line again.
He sat up too fast and his ribs screamed at him but he didn't care.
He read the whole thing.
It was anonymous. A reader submission from [city redacted]. The magazine's editorial note called it "unusually literary for the genre" which, even now, made him grin despite himself. He read it twice more, slowly, the way you re-read something you can't quite believe is real.
The bar with the stage the size of a closet. The band setting up. The guitarist with the dark curls. The gin and tonics. Her watching him through the solo and clenching her thighs. The hallway by the bathrooms. “Drive fast.” The hotel. The shower. All this could be a coincidence. But not “two blocks from the High school”.
He dropped his head back against the pillow and stared at the ceiling with a very different expression than the one he'd been wearing for the last four days.
She'd written about him.
She'd gone back to her city and she'd written it down and sent it to a magazine and it had been published and Gareth had bought it at a gas station without knowing and put it in his hands in a hospital bed in Hawkins, Indiana.
The universe, Eddie thought, had a genuinely deranged sense of humor.
He looked down at the magazine again. Then at the closed door. Then at the magazine.
His ribs hurt. His arm hurt. He had a button he could press that would bring a nurse in approximately four minutes.
He found page forty-seven again, settled back against the pillow, and got his good hand busy.
———
It wasn't hard to get there. The story was good — she wrote direct and precise and he liked even more that it was describing how she felt back then. He read the part about his solo and something warm spread through his chest that had nothing to do with what his hand was doing.
She'd watched him play and then she'd gone home and written it down.
He stroked himself slowly at first, reading, then faster, the magazine went down on his chest. When he came his head fell back, his jaw clenched and her name was forming behind his teeth. Not sweetheart. The real one.
He lay there for a moment, breathing.
Then he looked at the ceiling and said, out loud, to no one:
"Come back to Hawkins."
Working on part II of What heavy metal does to you but also want it to be independent
💬 2 🔁 23 ❤️ 184 · What heavy metal does to you ·
You just had the best hookup of your life and in the morning Eddie asks you to drop him
You just had the best hookup of your life and in the morning Eddie asks you to drop him off at the High School
WC 2700
warnings: smut 18+, minors DNI, oral f receiving, protected p i v sex, unprotected piv sex in the shower
You hadn't planned on ending up here.
The consulting gig had wrapped early—three days onsite with a client, and you'd been staring down another evening alone in a hotel room. You'd changed out of your blazer into jeans and a camisole and asked the woman at the front desk where the locals drank.
She'd looked you up and down and said, "The Hideout. Take a left on Route 4."
So here you were. Mid twenties, two gin and tonics deep, sitting alone at the end of the bar in a town you couldn't have found on a map yesterday, watching a band set up on a stage the size of a closet.
They were loud before they even started playing. The drummer kept hitting things for no reason. The bass player was arguing with someone about a cable. And the guitarist…
He was something else.
Dark curls to his shoulders, a beat-up denim vest over a Dio shirt, silver rings catching lights every time his hands moved. He had tattoos on his arms—you couldn't make them out from here, just dark shapes. He moved around the tiny stage, checking amps, tuning his guitar with the caress that made your stomach tighten. When he leaned into the mic to test it, his voice was low and warm, almost playful.
"Evening, freaks and lovely people. We are Corroded Coffin, and we are about to make your ears bleed."
Scattered cheers. He grinned—wide, wolfish, unself-conscious—and you felt it in your knees.
They launched into something fast and brutal, all crunching riffs and bass fury, and he played. His whole body moved with it, hair flying, fingers blurring on the fretboard, and every thirty seconds or so he'd throw his head back.
You forgot about your drink. You forgot about the client. You forgot your flight was tomorrow.
Halfway through their set, during a solo, his eyes swept the room and landed on you.
You didn't look away.
Neither did he.
He held your gaze through the rest of the solo, fingers still moving like they didn't need his brain involved, and the corner of his mouth curled up. Not a grin this time. Softer than that.
When the set ended, you expected the spell to break. You expected him to disappear backstage, or get swallowed by groupies, or turn out to be shorter than he looked from a distance. Instead he hopped off the stage, grabbed a beer from behind the bar, and walked straight to you.
"You're not from around here."
It wasn't a question.
"What gave it away?"
"You're sitting at the bar alone and you haven't thrown anything at us yet. That's basically a standing ovation around here." He took the stool next to you, close enough that his knee pressed against your thigh. Up close he was damp with sweat, curls sticking to his neck. You studied his rings against the beer bottle when he picked it up. "Also, you were watching me like I was doing something interesting. Most people in here just want us to turn it down."
"You were doing something interesting."
He tilted his head. His eyes were brown—dark and amused. "Yeah? What was that?"
"Playing guitar like the building was on fire and you didn't care."
That smile again. The wolfish one. "That's kind of the whole point of heavy metal, sweetheart."
"Don't call me sweetheart."
"What should I call you?"
You told him your name. He repeated it, and something about the way it sounded in his voice made your skin prickle.
"Eddie," he said, offering a ringed hand. "Eddie Munson. Guitar, vocals, bad decisions."
You shook his hand. His grip was firm. He didn't let go immediately.
———
You talked for twenty minutes. Maybe thirty. He was funny—sharp and self-deprecating and quick, the kind of person who said exactly what they were thinking. He asked you what you did. You told him about the consulting, about flying into towns like this to fix problems that could've been solved with a single competent hire. He laughed and said, "Sounds like hell."
"It is hell. That's why I'm here."
"Well," he leaned closer, "glad I could be your escape."
His hand was on the bar next to yours.
"You want to get out of here?" you said, and you meant it to sound casual, but it came out direct and low and unmistakable.
His eyes went dark. "Yeah," he said. "I really do."
Eddie turned toward the stage, where his bandmates were packing up, and called out—
"Hey! Gareth. Jeff." They looked over. "Take care of my gear. And the van. I'm—" he glanced at you, and that slow half-smile came back, "I'm indisposed."
The drummer—Gareth, apparently—looked from Eddie to you and back again. His expression said he'd seen this before.
"You owe me, Munson."
"Put it on my tab."
He slid off the stool and held out his hand.
———
You didn't make it to the parking lot.
He caught your wrist in the hallway by the bathrooms, pulled you into the dark alcove by the back door, and pressed you against the wall. His mouth found yours before you could say anything clever, and the kiss was…searing. Eddie kissed you with the same devotion he played his solo, one hand fisted in your hair. His tongue slid against yours and you made a sound into his mouth that should have embarrassed you, but his hips rolled into yours in response and you could feel exactly how much he didn't care about embarrassment either. You grabbed the front of his vest and pulled him closer because there was still too much space between you.
He tasted like cheap beer and devoured you like he'd die if he stopped. His shirt was still damp from the set. You could feel the heat of him through it.
"Your hotel," he said against your lips. "How far?"
"Ten minutes."
"Drive fast."
———
You drove fast.
His hand was on your thigh the entire drive, just resting there, his thumb tracing lazy circles that made it extremely difficult to focus on the road. He talked the whole way, something about the set and a song they'd been working on, and you heard approximately none of it because his hand kept drifting higher.
"Are you even listening to me?"
"No."
He laughed, low and delighted. "Good."
You were vaguely aware that you shouldn’t bring a stranger to your room, but then the door closed behind you and Eddie pressed you against it and every coherent thought dissolved.
His mouth was on your neck. Your hands were under his shirt, his skin hot, you dragged your nails down his chest and he groaned against your throat so low you felt it more than heard it.
"Off," you said, pulling at his vest, and he shrugged it off without lifting his mouth from your collarbone. You got his shirt over his head. He was pale and wiry, the tattoos you'd only half-seen under stage lights were right there now—bats crawling up his forearm, something darker on his shoulder you couldn’t identify yet. Eddie looked like trouble.
He pulled your camisole off in one motion, and when he saw you hadn't been wearing a bra, he stopped. Just stood there staring with his mouth slightly open, his chest still heaving.
"Wow," he breathed.
"Are you going to stare or are you going to do something?"
He did something.
He dropped to his knees.
Your jeans came off so fast you heard a seam protest. His hands wrapped around the backs of your thighs pulling your hips toward his face, and then his mouth was on you through the lace. Your head hit the door hard enough that you should have cared but didn't.
"Eddie—"
He pulled your underwear down. His tongue pressed flat against you, one long slow stroke, and then another, your hands found his hair and pulled. He moaned against you like that was exactly what he'd wanted, the vibration buzzing through your entire body, and then he stopped being gentle.
His mouth worked against you sucking, and licking, two fingers pushing inside you while his tongue circled your clit. You were loud, you knew you were loud, but he kept saying encouraging words against you like your noises were the best thing he'd ever heard. Your thighs were shaking. Your fingers were knotted in his curls. He curled his fingers and pressed his tongue down at the same time and you came so hard your vision whited out, your whole body clenching around his hand, a moan tearing out of you that didn't even sound like your own voice.
He stayed there through it, easing you down with slow soft strokes. When he stood up his chin was wet and he was grinning like he'd just won something.
"Bed," you managed.
He picked you up. Actually picked you up—your body in his arms, —and dropped you on the mattress. He stood at the edge of the bed unfastening his belt, and you watched leaning on your elbows.
He shoved his jeans and boxers down. You made a sound that was somewhere between appreciation and impatience.
"You have a condom?" you asked.
He pulled one from his wallet. "I was a Boy Scout for three weeks."
"Don't ever say that again."
He rolled it on and climbed over you. For a second he just hovered there—braced on his arms, hair falling around his face, those dark eyes on yours. He was still cocky, still Eddie, but there was something underneath it. Like he couldn't quite believe this was happening.
He pushed inside you and you both swore at the same time. The stretch was perfect.
He set a rhythm that was just this side of brutal, one hand loose around your throat, thumb stroking your racing pulse and the other holding your thigh open, and every thrust hit deep enough to knock the air out of you. The headboard banged the wall. The bed creaked. You wrapped your legs around him and dug your heels into his back and he cursed and drove in harder.
"Fuck—you feel—" He couldn't finish the sentence. You dragged him down by the neck, scratching it in despair, and kissed him, tasting yourself on his mouth.
He shifted the angle, hitching your hips up, and you actually cried out. He felt it, heard it, saw the way your body arched and he kept that angle, driving into that spot again and again. His forehead dropped against yours, his breath ragged.
"Come on," he said against your mouth, "come on, I want to feel it—"
You came again, harder than the first time, clenching around him in waves, and he groaned your name into the crook of your neck and followed you over the edge with three more thrusts, bottoming out.
For a long moment there was just breathing. His weight on top of you, heavy and real. His heart hammering against yours.
"Fuck yeah," he said.
You just panted.
"I mean—it was awesome."
"Yeah."
———
Eddie disposed of the condom, collapsed next to you, and stared at the ceiling. You lay there catching your breath, sweat cooling on your skin, too wrung out to move.
"I need a shower," you said eventually.
He turned his head to look at you. That smile again. "Want company?"
———
The shower was small. Eddie was not small. You wedged yourselves in under the spray and it should have been awkward but instead it was slippery and steamy and his hands were everywhere—soaping down your back, cupping your breasts, sliding between your legs while the hot water ran over both of you. You bit his bicep playfully.
He reached down and wrapped your hand around his cock, which hardened in your grip immediately, his head falling back against the tile.
"Again?" you asked.
"Again," he confirmed. "Definitely again."
He turned you around and you braced your hands against the tile wall. His mouth was on the back of your neck, biting gently, and then he was inside you again. Now it was different— no condom —and you moaned loud enough to echo off the bathroom tile.
The water ran over both of you. His hand snaked around your hip to find your clit, rubbing in tight circles while he thrust into you from behind, and his other arm was banded around your ribs holding you up because your legs had stopped being reliable.
It was slower this time but not softer. Deliberate. Each thrust measured and precise, filling you completely, his lips against your ear whispering things that made you clench around him—filthy things, explicit things, interspersed with your name in soft whisper.
You came with his fingers on your clit and his teeth on your shoulder. You breathed out his name. He pulled out a moment later, finishing on your buttocks. The water had gone lukewarm.
Neither of you cared.
———
You slept tangled together in the hotel bed, his arm heavy around your waist, his breath warm on the back of your neck. It was the best you'd slept in months.
Morning came too soon. You blinked awake to find Eddie already up. He was sitting on the edge of the bed in his boxers, hair a catastrophic mess, squinting at his watch.
"Morning, gorgeous," he said when he saw you were awake. His voice was rough with sleep and it did things to you that were deeply inconvenient given the time of day. "I need a huge favor."
You propped yourself up on your elbow. "What kind of favor?"
He rubbed the pink scratches on his neck. For the first time since you'd met him, he looked almost sheepish.
"I need a ride. To, uh. Hawkins High."
You stared at him. The silence stretched.
"The high school," you said flatly. You stared at him. The baby face under the wild hair, the lanky limbs, it all suddenly made sense. He probably was eighteen. Maybe nineteen if he’d been held back.
He must have read your terror —because he put both hands up immediately.
"Whoa, whoa. I'm twenty. Okay? I'm twenty. Born 1966. Do the math. This—" he gestured at himself, the stubble, the angles, "—is just what heavy metal does to you.
You pressed your fingers against your eyelids, “I thought you were… twenty-five. At least.”
"I've been held back. Twice," he continued. "Because I was busy—" he gestured vaguely, "—prioritizing the arts. But I am a legal, consenting, tax-paying—okay, I don't pay taxes, but I'm an adult, that is the point."
He scooted closer, and his proximity still made your pulse jump even now, even in the middle of this. His face changed—dropped the showman thing, the performance.
"I'm not a kid," he said, quieter now. "I'm just a guy who's bad at school and good at guitar and had the best night of his life with a beautiful woman who's way too smart to be consulting for people who can't figure things out on their own."
You looked at him for a long moment.
"I'm dropping you off two blocks away," you said.
He broke into that grin—the full one, the one that had gotten you into this mess. "Deal."
———
You drove him in your rental car through the flat, quiet streets following his direction and sipping hotel coffee, morning sunlight slanting through the windshield. He drummed on his knees to a song only he could hear.
Two blocks from Hawkins High, you pulled over.
He turned to you. For a second neither of you said anything.
"If you're ever back in town—" he started.
"I won't be."
"If you're ever back in town," he said again, like you hadn't spoken, "The Hideout. Every Friday and Saturday. Ask for Eddie."
He leaned across the center console and kissed you—slow this time, thorough, one hand cupping your jaw. When he pulled back, his thumb traced your lower lip.
"Thanks for the ride, sweetheart." He said, climbing out of the car with his vest slung over one shoulder.
"Bye, Eddie"
He shut the door. You watched him walk the two blocks to the school entrance, all loose limbs and denim and chaotic hair, utterly unconcerned with the world.
He didn't look back.
You sat there for a full minute, engine idling.
Then you laughed and put the car in drive.
Inspired by the fact that Joseph Quinn doesn’t nearly look twenty in S4
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: +18 MDNI, HEAVY DARK CONTENT! Graphic violence and extreme gore, torture and prolonged physical abuse, racism, bodily harm, descriptions of racism, use of the N-word by a racist character, heavy description of torture, wounds, humiliation. Dead Dove, Do Not Eat.
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3,6K
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: The quiet town of Hawkins, Indiana has been ravaged by unexplained and sudden murders, bringing terror and panic to the population. Five friends find themselves cornered by a mysterious and sadistic masked figure and forced to reveal their darkest secrets. In a sadistic game, the winner is not the one who comes out alive.
𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: Ohhh I forgot how good it was to write haha. TAGLIST IS OPEN!
𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
"Now it's time for one more of you to join the fun." He looked at the faces of the remaining three. Carol, Jason, and you.
He gestured to you, Carol, and Jason, who were watching with a mixture of fear and anticipation. "Let's play a little, shall we?" Ghostface's voice was full of sadistic pleasure as he began pacing back and forth in front of you.
“Eenie, meenie, minie, moe,” he chanted, pointing a gloved finger at each of you seated there. “Grab the victim by the toe. If they scream, don’t let them go.”
The only thing to be heard in the dark room was his macabre chant, and if you strained your ears a little harder, you could hear the erratic rhythm of your companions’ hearts as they struggled to maintain a neutral expression before the masked man.
As he continued the twisted rhyme, your stomach churned and sweat pooled at your temples, a chill spreading through your body.
"Eenie, meenie, minie, moe," Ghostface's finger landed on Carol, his masked face contorting into a cruel grin that displayed dominance and power.
"Looks like you're the lucky winner, Carol." He moved closer to her face, the white mask hovering above the head of the girl who refused to look at the sadist in front of her.
He reached out and removed the gag from her mouth with a certain brutality — recalling the moment of hysteria earlier — while she gasped deeply with panic and rage, her chest rising and falling rapidly as her lungs filled with air, her chin trembling, and the sound of her teeth chattering filled the room.
But Carol wasn't the kind of girl who feared a man.
"You sick son of a bitch!" She turned her face toward him as she screamed, the powerful sound of her voice, consumed by rage and despair, echoing through the four corners of the house as she spewed curses at Ghostface.
"Who do you think you are? Do you think you can do this to us and get away with it? To me?" You, Jason, and Tammy watched in shock as she unleashed a torrent of curses and threats at him as if the fact that he held her life and everyone else's in his hands was just a mere insignificant fact.
The walls of the room seemed to tremble with the intensity of the words, full of venom and rage, the atmosphere charged with the tension of the moment.
“I’m going to kill you, you fucking psychopath! I’m going to make you bleed like a pig!” But Ghostface remained unfazed.
He crossed his arms over his chest and let out a low, dark laugh of mockery. “Ah… I love it when they fight back, it turns me on so much.” He taunted, his voice velvety with pleasure and sadism. He tilted his head to the side and studied the fuming girl in front of him.
“You know the game, Carol…” His voice overflowed with malice and menace. “Tell me your secret and I’ll let you go… Or not, I haven’t decided on that yet.” Carol choked on her breath as she stared at him with wide, incredulous, and defiant eyes, a nervous smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
“I won’t—” she laughed incredulously. “I won’t tell you anything, you sicko.” She laughed as she spoke, as if she didn’t believe the consequences would come for her.
Her determination was firm as she refused to give in to the demands of that sadistic monster, even knowing that in that perverse game, your lives were at stake.
His posture stiffened. “Oh, darling… I think you still haven’t understood one thing here.” His voice dropped a few octaves, becoming gravely deep and menacing. “You’re not in control here. I am.”
He sighed as if disappointed. “Carol, Carol…” the disappointed voice echoed through the room with a delightful shiver as he watched the girl struggle futilely against the restraints. "I thought it would be more fun to play with you, but I guess I was wrong."
Her heart seemed to fight to escape her ribcage and flee from that horror, her chest heaved with a mixture of fear and raw determination not to show weakness before the mentally disturbed and masked figure that circled her like a predator about to pounce.
"Let me go now," she demanded, her voice trembling but firm. "I won't be part of your sick game, I refuse."
Ghostface tilted his head humorously. “Oh, but you already are.” His tone overflowed with amusement in a twisted sense of humor.
“Long before you and your friends woke up in this room, you were already pieces in my game.” The mask’s expressionless face hid any emotion from its eyes.
“Confess, little mouse Carol,” he demanded in a low, menacing voice. “For the last time, confess your sins.”
“I have nothing to confess to you,” she replied, her lips and chin trembling, looking anywhere but at him.
He laughed darkly, the sound reverberating through the small room. “Ah, I wouldn’t say that if I were you, little mouse. We all have a few bodies hidden in the closet, don’t we?”
Carol swallowed hard, lowering her voice to a whisper, her shoulders tightening against her body. “I’m not going to give you that satisfaction.” She could feel her skin damp with the cold sweat that was accumulating.
“As you wish, then,” he murmured softly, gripping her face tightly, his fingers digging into her cheeks and forcing her to look up. “I’ll accept your tongue as punishment.” He raised his other fist toward her mouth, a knife in his gloved hand, its sharp edge gleaming in the dim light.
“Wait!” She forced the words through her throat, the sound muffled by his grip on her cheeks. “I’ll tell you.” Her eyes closed as she furrowed her brows in an expression of pain and shame.
She curled up in herself, keeping her eyes closed. “My secret is… It’s about a guy.” Ghostface lowered the knife and released her face.
“Oh, a guy…,” he sneered in a malicious voice. “Tell me more, little rat.”
“I ruined his life out of greed.” She confessed, and grotesque sobs escaped her lips.
“And how did you ruin his life, Carol?” She hesitated before speaking, her brain still trying to be rational and remind her of the social consequences she would face when she left and everyone knew what she had done.
She looked at you, Jason, and Tammy — who were staring intently at her — but mostly at Jason, her eyes trying to signal what would be an apology. “I… I met him a few years ago. He showed interest in me when I was still in high school.” The words echoed through the room.
“He was rich and knew a lot of powerful people, and I became interested in him thinking about the advantage I could gain if I could get something out of him.” Ghostface listened attentively, arms crossed, knife still in hand.
“At first I was perfect, I treated him with affection and pretended to be the most docile person in the world. Until one day he said he loved me, and I realized it no longer made sense to continue pretending, so I showed him who I really was.” She recounted as she remembered.
“Ah, greed… It’s like that old saying: give a man power and you’ll really see who he is…” he reflected darkly. “What happened next?” He feigned curiosity.
Carol hesitated for a few seconds. “I started blackmailing him, saying I wanted money and jewelry or…” She fixed her gaze on Jason and tears streamed down her face. “Or I would tell his wife that he was cheating on her with me, I had all the proof and I used it to my advantage.” Jason frowned, finally understanding where this story was going.
Ghostface began clapping slowly and chuckling softly as if it were amusing. “A married man? Wow, how original… They say love has no age, but in your case, it has assets… And a wife, but who cares about that these days, right?” He mocked and laughed along with the other masked figures and gestured for her to continue.
“One day he refused to give me any more money and said I was bluffing, so I sent all the evidence to his wife and hid my face so she wouldn’t know who I was.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she spoke.
“I later learned that they divorced and that his wife kept everything, all the money and all the property. Apparently, they had signed a prenuptial agreement saying that whoever cheated would leave the marriage with nothing. He tried to contact me afterward, but I kicked him out of my life; he wasn’t useful to me anymore, so why would I keep him?” She shrugged as if she didn't care.
“Interesting…” his voice overflowed with sarcasm. “So you’re quite the slut, aren’t you? Going after a married man for money, like a cheap prostitute… And you even had the nerve to blackmail him for more money.” He punctuated in an accusatory tone. “Not that he’s a saint, a person who betrays the one who sleeps next to them every day deserves nothing but pain and suffering, but you’re not innocent.” Carol frowned angrily at receiving a lecture from a murderous psychopath.
“And who do you think you are to tell me if I’m innocent or not? You’re nothing but a crazy psychopath who kidnapped five people for your sadistic little game!” She roared furiously.
“Me?” He asked, pointing to himself. “Here I am your god, so I think you’d better start praying according to my mass or I won’t be so merciful with your penance.” His voice dropped dangerously low octaves.
“Do you regret it, little rat?” Ghostface asked disinterestedly, and she chuckled dryly.
“Yes, I do regret it… I regret not being smarter and keeping that pathetic old man around longer. I would have sucked everything out of him, and there wouldn’t have been anything left to tell the tale.” She looked at Jason. “The only thing that hurt me was seeing you cry over your parents’ marriage without knowing I was the reason for it all. And even though you’re my friend, I would do it all again, but better.”
Ghostface looked at Jason and Carol, repeating the action a few times, and gasped in surprise, bringing his free hand to the mouth of the mask— a scene that would be comical if it weren’t for the setting they were all in — and began to laugh as if he had heard the funniest joke in the world.
“Wait… You slept with your friend’s dad?” He asked, amused by the situation. "I thought only termites liked old wood, but it seems you're very interested in it too." He laughed along with the masked figures, and you had to restrain yourself from smiling out of respect for the situation. But he saw the corners of your lips twitch, a smile threatening to appear.
He took a deep breath after laughing and spoke seriously. “As funny as it sounds, that’s not your secret, little rat Carol.” You widened your eyes in surprise and shock at learning that this wasn’t your friend’s worst secret. “I think you’d better confess once and for all, I’ve lost patience with you.” He waved the knife in his hand as a reminder.
Her nostrils flared and she clenched her jaw tightly, grinding her teeth. “Can I ask for a hint? Everyone else got one, so I have one too.” He rolled his eyes beneath his mask, and the urge to simply rip out her vocal cords seemed too appealing at the moment.
“A hint, huh?” He took a deep breath as he placed both hands on his hips. “Well, let’s see… You spread some rumors about someone aggressive and using drugs at school.” Recognition flashed through her eyes, making her expression harden even more. “…And you know exactly why you did it.”
Her facial expression tensed, her jaw clenching and teeth grinding. “Yes, I know,” she sighed heavily in irritation. “I despised someone.”
Ghostface murmured in recognition. “And why did you despise that person, little rat?” He questioned with his arms crossed, the knife always in hand.
“Because he was different from me, and I don’t like people like him.” Carol rolled her eyes as if the answer were obvious. “My parents taught me that that type of person isn’t trustworthy, and that I should always be wary.”
“That… kind of person?” he dragged out the sentence. “What kind of person is he, Carol?” His voice came out almost as a low, menacing growl.
Her upper lip curled. “I did what needed to be done,” she deflected. “I spread some rumors around the school, small things at first, but enough to attract some attention.” She explained through gritted teeth. “Like punching a locker at school, one of those that were always a pain to open; a fake confrontation with a teacher… Mundane things, but when repeated they become a red light in people’s heads, even more so if a seed of doubt is planted.” A proud, half-smile formed on her lips.
Everyone in the room was motionless — except for Ghostface, who was circling Carol, and the aforementioned girl, who was still talking — and without reaction after her confession.
Carol continued. “After planting that seed, I started spreading more rumors, more specific things this time,” shrugging half-heartedly. “I said I’d seen him in the janitor’s closet a few times, always with something in his hands. Then I lied that he’d been aggressive with a girl in our class, and emphasized how strange his eyes looked…”
She looked at you. “He was friends with that freak who dealt drugs, so it was easy for people to put two and two together.”
You raised your eyebrows and a flash of a long-haired boy crossed your mind; you glanced at the masked man and found him already staring intently at you.
“After that, I only had to say that he had been aggressive with me one day, and assaulted me when I hadn’t done anything.” Ghostface looked away from you and turned incredulously to the girl in front of him. “I made everyone believe he was dangerous, until he got what he deserved. He went to jail, but I heard that after a while the police released him due to inconsistencies in drug and behavioral tests.”
“I wanted to make him pay… He didn’t belong there, he would never be like me or like them,” she looked at the three of you in the chairs.
The room seemed to have grown colder, the tension so thick it could be cut with a knife. “Make him pay for what, little rat Carol?” His voice, almost a coo, pierced the tension in the room.
Her eyes rolled again. “For him being different.”
He nodded slowly. “Because he was different,” he repeated. “…Different how, Carol?” His voice was heavy with feigned innocence, a stark contrast to his chilling aura.
She jutted her chin and cocked her head. “He was inferior, lower class… A disgusting negro who contaminated that school.”
Complete silence filled the room as she stared at the man with satisfaction. The shame and disgust you felt for Carol burned in your chest, and without realizing it, tears streamed down your face. Unable to contain the torrent of ugliness from the core of the person you called a friend, it overflowed.
Ghostface's masked face showed no emotion, but everyone could feel the weight of his gaze on Carol, judging her for her hateful words like a god about to pronounce penance, and for the first time that night, Carol felt terror crackle through her bones with its sharp, icy claws.
"A racist little bitch…" His voice was a venomous whisper full of contempt and revulsion, and for her, it was worse than if he'd yelled. "Do you know what people say about racists, Carol?" She shook her head, almost petrified.
He approached, his masked face inches from hers, his voice a chilling hiss. "Burn the racists," he spat, each word dripping with malice.
The room seemed to close in around her, the darkness pressing down on her like a suffocating weight. Carol's heart pounded in her chest, the terror of her words paralyzing her and reality consuming her like a bucket of cold water.
"No, no, please…" she whimpered, her voice almost a whisper as she begged for mercy, she looked at those she called friends, searching for help that wouldn't come.
But Ghostface's masked face remained impassive, the darkness of the mask hiding the twisted pleasure he felt stemming from her fear.
"You wanted to make that boy pay," he taunted, his voice low and menacing. "Now it's your turn to pay for your sins." He snapped his fingers.
"Michael," Ghostface gestured to him and pointed to a bag in a dark corner. "It's time for penance."
She couldn't suppress a gasp of horror as the new figure emerged from the darkness and approached with the bag in hand, her heart racing even faster. Her mind finally grasped the reality of her actions and seethed with terror at the sight of two masked figures determined to punish her.
Michael approached, his imposing figure casting a long shadow over her. "Please," she pleaded, her voice trembling with fear.
But Ghostface's laughter echoed through the room, sending shivers down her spine. "Apologies won't save you now, Carol," he taunted, his voice full of malice, and opened the bag, the sound of the zipper echoing through the room.
"Hmm…" He murmured and pulled out a metal spoon and a blowtorch, along with a thick piece of wood the size of a finger. "I think we can begin." He passed the piece of wood to Michael, who wasted no time and walked over to Carol.
One of his hands gripped her hair tightly as he pulled her head back and shoved the object into her mouth. "No, no!" she screamed, fighting against the grip on her hair and convulsing in the chair. Her efforts were futile against the masked man's strength, who had managed to shove the rectangular piece of wood in and put the gag — which lay forgotten around her neck — back into her mouth.
But her pleas fell on deaf ears as Ghostface advanced toward her, the spoon and blowtorch menacingly in his gloved hand. “It’ll only hurt a little.”
He lit the blowtorch and positioned the flame on the back of the spoon, the metal instantly absorbing the heat of the flame until it was hot enough, and pressed the metal against her facial skin.
The agonizing screams muffled by the wood were like music to his ears.
He removed the spoon from her face and admired the mark left, red and swollen, fluid-filled blisters rapidly forming.
He looked at Michael, who waited beside him, and nodded, a signal to continue.
Michael extended his gloved hand, gripping Carol firmly. She struggled against him, but his strength was overwhelming.
With menacing efficiency, Ghostface pulled a metal rod from his pouch and heated the tip with the blowtorch until it glowed a reddish-orange color, the heat radiating through the room, a stark contrast to the chilling silence that had fallen upon them.
Carol's eyes widened as she watched the rod being heated, and she struggled even harder against the masked man's grip.
Ghostface let out a macabre laugh as he passed the rod to his companion, who, with a swift and brutal movement, pressed the scalding metal against the exposed skin of her legs.
She screamed in pain as the heat burned her skin, the smell of burning filling the air.
The room filled with the nauseating sound of burning flesh as she writhed and screamed, the agony consuming her. Tears mingled with the sweat on her face as she tried to beg for mercy between sobs, with that piece of wood in her mouth, her screams echoing off the walls in a chorus of suffering.
But there was no mercy in that twisted chamber of horrors.
Michael continued his relentless torture, the metal rod leaving trails of destruction across Carol's body.
Blackened wounds left her skin rough and cracked like the dormant lava of a volcano; the center of the wounds opened, revealing the second layer beneath her skin, a circle of festering blisters formed around the open hole, exposing the flesh.
She would burn for her sins, her flesh scorched by the fire of her own cruelty.
Michael stepped away from Carol's nearly lifeless body, which struggled to remain conscious amidst the incessant waves of pain and agony. Tammy wept copiously at the cruelty and violence, while you and Jason remained motionless — perhaps out of fear, perhaps because of the horrific scene of Carol's burning flesh and regurgitating wounds.
With a chilling laugh that cut through the air like a blade, Ghostface stepped away from the scene of torment, his face contorted in sadistic delight beneath the mask.
The echoes of Carol's screams still reverberated in his mind, but to him, they were nothing more than a harmonious symphony of terror and torture, the perfect music.
"Well, well, well," he taunted, his voice laden with malice. "Looks like that racist bitch got what she deserved, don't you think, Michael?"
Michael remained silent, his impassive mask revealing nothing as he observed the scene and returned to his place in the darkness.
Ghostface turned his attention to Carol's trembling figure, her eyes rolled back and her head thrown back, her mouth agape as she drooled and convulsed in the chair.
"But enough about her," he continued, his voice taking on a sing-song tone. "It's time to get back to our little game."
