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á° modern!eddie whoâs just as much of a geek. he still has an old guitar hero set which he plays somewhat regularlyâ gareth always likes using the drums.
definitely a thrift enjoyer. itâs a habit he kept from a not-so-fortunate childhood. he side eyes resellers, and would always pick up a handful of trinkets for a significant other.
total fiend for a white monster and pizza rolls combo.
heâs a simple guy when it comes to socks but sometimes heâll be caught in old, silly cartoon ones when he gets too lazy to do laundry. that being said, heâd also still be a ripped jeans, band tee or raglan guy. the designs and colors would have a bit more flavor, though. he has a wider variety of belts and buckles. particularly likes his silver bat one.
has a soft spot for the little halloween hand sanitizers from bath & body works. loved the monstober era as a kid. also still watches halloweentown every year.
100% owns a black cat named ozzy. had a freakout when said man died irl.
you suggest being padme and anakin for halloween and heâs almost positive heâs having a heart attack. leia and han were the alternative; heâd certainly never complain if you were to wear her bikini.
á° eddie whose soft spot for d&d roleplaying transfers over to the bedroom. heâs initially embarrassed to say anything, he feels lucky enough that youâre even with him, but itâs hard to hold himself back when you suggest matching fantasy costumes for halloween. in the midst of steveâs party and after spending far too long staring holes into you across the makeshift dance floor, the two of you end up stumbling upstairs together.
his face is flushed from alcohol, hair a mess from the way youâd been running your fingers through it. your hennin sat abandoned on the same bedside table heâd leaned his sword against as he pounded you into the guest room mattress.
âitâd be a real shame if your majesty found out what we were doing,â he muses with an upward tick of his lips, bunching your pink dress even higher up your waist to get a better look at your dripping lips. a scoff barely leaves you before he gives your inner thigh a sharp smack, drawing out a startled yelp.
âmm. iâm sure itâd cause a scandal, sir.â
he uses the same hand to pat fondly at your cheek, âthatâs what i thought. anything for your knight in shining armor, right?â your brows pull together at that though itâs hard to stay mad with how heâs stretching you.
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mechanic eddie and his trailer park gf ( inspired by this post )
i feel like heâs the type to teach you everything to keep you busy and not bored , the trailer park can be a bit boring so he wants to make sure youâre not that . you two spend time under the car while he teaches you the parts and how to fix it , but his plans usually go south as all you can of think of doing is kissing and nipping away at his ear . clearly unfazed by all this car work
he loves to watch you lounge in the lawn chair outside the trailer , loves to watch you tan to your hearts content while you read the latest magazine and smoke a cigarette . he will come over to you from time to time to take a drag from your cig but usually itâs to kiss your beautiful face and that glossy lips of yours , partially to get himself worked up , partially because he wants to swap the smoke from cig mouth to mouth
heâs protective , damn straight he is , so he makes sure you know how to protect yourself if ever thereâs a case heâs not around . he takes you to the woods near the edge of the trailer park with the shotgun in hand , he positions a couple coca cola cans while you stand there just picking at your freshly done hair . he comes over and teaches you how to hold the gun , how to shot perfectly all the while standing right behind you , which tbh makes you feel a tad bit horny . and him too , i mean the though of seeing his princess shot a gun perfectly makes him want to just strip off all your clothes right there !
eddieâs a gentleman , he will cook , he will clean , he will make sure youâre provided for . heâll take you shopping in the old cadillac and let you max out his card , he will of course indulge in your shopping haul , the way you model off your new clothes for him in the small space of the trailer . he also loves to show you off , itâs obvious i mean the trailer park is a small space and everyone knows everyone but he still shows you off . â you remember my girlfriend right ? â it isnât a way of reducing you down to just â girlfriend â but rather a way of him showing that this is his girlfriend
okay now , heâs a softie for you but when it comes down to sex , heâs no softie and you love that . heâll fuck too anywhere , if that means atop a car heâs currently fixing for a client , on the lounge chair outside the trailer , over the kitchen counter , in the goddamn woods , fuck it if heâs horny enough heâll fuck you in another persons trailer whenever youâre over for dinner . heâs a manhandler !!! he will indeed wrap his biceps around your neck , he will indeed make sure his grip on your thighs is strong enough to hold your ass up in the hair . heâs wonât stop , not until heâs tired and well . . . you donât protest
cause you match each others freak , eddie munson the only hot mechanic on the trailer park and you , the trailer park princess everyone wishes they could get a piece of
re: that last post, i feel like eddie very easily could be one of the girls... like, hanging out with all your best girl-friends and eddie tags along too because he's fun and chill and doesn't mind doing "girly" things. he'll hold purses and shopping bags no problem. professional door holder-opener. he starts up a running joke about being the protection detailâinsists on scanning the premises everywhere you go to make sure it's safe for the ladies. and he will absolutely keep up with all your friends' hot gossip...
keep thinking about lounging on the couch with bestfriend!eddie, both tired after a long week of work. his body leans up against your side, which you welcome, gently guiding his head to rest near your neck, where your hands automatically move to rove through his curls. your fingers push through tousles of thick plush hair, making him groan in response, and settle into you further.
"feels good, sweetheart," his voice is a deep whisper against your throat.
"mhm," you hum, your softness matching his. "your hair's so fluffy, eds. you'll never cut it, right?"
he lets out a soft snort, "no, no. would never do that to you. know it's basically your favorite thing about me."
you smile, your cheek landing on his crown, "is not."
"you supervised my last trim."
"that was just emotional support, thank you very much."
"emotional support for you." he grins, moving a hand up to thumb with your shirt collar. "would you even still love me without it?" his face morphs into a phony frown, wide brown eyes on display for you.
"oh shut up, drama king, you know i would." you tease him, "would you still love me if not for the amazing back scratches i supply?"
he lets out a sigh, head falling back against the crook of your neck, pretending to ponder it. "i s'pose so. guess you're stuck with me."
"yeah, guess i am." you hand moves down to his shoulder blades and you start your light scratches, just because he brought it up, and he's a brat.
"wait a sec-" he slurs out, "can you go underneath my shirt? please? 'ts a more immersive experience that way."
totally a brat.
"yes king eddie, i'll do as you please" you roll your eyes, eating it right up. he knows it, too.
"thanks, sugarpop. you're the best."
and within a few minutes, his body is jello against yours, and you can't help but let out a quiet laugh when you notice him already drooling against your chest.
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on a night back in hawkins, you decide to drop by an old not-haunt just to see how your old not-friend eddie is doing.
whatâs the harm in that?
18+ MDNIâ7.2k
cw: fluff-fest with angsty undertones. reserved/wallflower reader feat. some deep-seated insecurity (they say write what you know, yâknow?) and flashbacks to a shitty first kiss that is for sure most definitely not ripped directly from sarah lore đ
eddie is the Flirtmaster Supreme, I made him too smooth for his own good, truly. r wears a dress, uses she/her pronouns, drinks alcohol, and smokes weed (badly).
You might have guessed Eddie Munson would wind up running the Hideout.
Heâd worked there throughout high school, possibly even before then. It had only added to the shroud of mystery and intrigue surrounding himâa source of endless fascination for you and the rest of your former classmates.
Well, okay, maybe that was just you.
Back then he was a lowly barback, bobbing and weaving around the same group of drunks every night, clearing empties and wiping down sticky tables, attempting the Sisyphean task of keeping the bathrooms clean in exchange for his band being allowed up on their so-called stage.
Now he was acting manager and in the process of buying out the original owner so she could retire. He made a lot of changes alreadyânot that youâd ever dared set foot in here during your tenure at Hawkins High back in the day. But you (rightfully) assumed it was your average hole in the wall, with barely any light coming through the dirt-streaked windows; all the walls papered so thoroughly with stickers and graffiti you couldnât guess what color they were; furniture so rickety and shoddily built it fell apart if you so much as looked at it wrong.
The space was still divey, but heâd changed up some of the decor and added some light fixtures over the bar so people could actually see what they were drinking. Heâd swapped out the older standing tables for black vinyl booths that lined the walls, leaving the middle open for shows.
Heâd also managed to construct an honest-to-god stage in the corner with lights, and a sound system and everything. At present it was empty, but according to the fliers tacked up on the door quite a few bands were slated to play there over the next couple of weeks. His own included.
And it seemed the interior wasnât the only thing that had been updated.
His height still afforded him the same gangly frame you remembered from high-school, but heâd filled out slightly with more muscle and a bit of softness around his formerly bony hipsâwhich you were most definitely not checking out as he spun a bar key on his middle finger and slipped it smoothly into the back pocket of his black jeans.
You had fully been expecting just to slide onto one of the newly refurbished stools that ran along the side of the bar and drink in relative anonymity. Instead, you were stunned to find recognition in Eddieâs eyes as he turned to greet you and your name fell easily from his lips.
Like heâd been saying it for years.
âThis is a surprise,â he said, leaning casually on his side of the bar.
Your mouth dropped open, but not to speak. You just blinked back at him in silent stupor.
His arms were turned out, his sleeveless tank showing off the sinewy muscles wrapped around them and the same tattoos you must have wasted hours of class time staring at. Heâd cut it off at the bottom,its curled hem barely skimming the top of his handcuff belt, and your mouth watered at the thought of him reaching for something over his head to reveal a sliver of his pale stomach and the tantalizing patch of sparse hair that swirled just below his navel.
âYou know me?â you asked, still blanched with confusion.
ââCourse I do.â He gave you a warm smile, deep dimples forming on either side of it. âI think I only passed Old McDonnelâs class because you let me copy your notes every morning.â
He paused and took a long moment to let his eyes wander appreciatively up and down your form. You felt your thighs press, grateful for the oak shield that hid your reaction from his view.
âDonât you know me?â he purred.
Jesus. You thought you might slide right off the freshly re-upholstered seat under you.
âOhâ IâŠum,â you cleared your throat, âYeah, of c-course I do. Youâre Eddie. Eddie Munson.â
âDing ding,â he grinned. âRemembering my name gets you a drink on the house. Whadâyou like?â
He pushed off the bar and tipped his head at the rows of bottles lined up behind him, never taking his eyes off yours. They glinted like shards of onyx under the warm glow of the pendant lights.
âA rum and ginger?â you replied sheepishly, praying he didnât think you were too lame for not going with the typical whisky. But Eddie just shot you a wink as he reached for a clean glass.
âMm, something sweet with a little bite? Sounds about right for you.â
Youâre glad to have a moment to collect yourself when he looks down to scoop some ice out of the bin, because you were not remotely prepared for this onslaught of charm. You also werenât sure where he got the idea that there was any bite to you at all, but the implication alone makes your body buzz watching him pour out the liquor and then spray in your mixer with the soda gun.
He placed the drink down in front of you, bubbles effervescing as he set a lime on the rim and juices dribbled down its side. He then waited, expectant smile on his lips as he watched you take your first sip. Only when you had, giving an encouraging nod and a quiet thanks, did Eddie finally tear his eyes away, seemingly remembering the rest of the people in the bar existed.
In a flash, heâd done a quick check with the scant number of other patrons, closing out oneâs tab and replenishing anotherâs drink before he returned to his spot in front of you.
âSo, what brings you in?â he asked. âYou moved, right? Havenât seen you around.â
âY-yeah, I left for school and justâŠstayed away,â you chuckled. âIâm here for my dadâs birthday.â
Eddie plucked a maraschino cherry from a jar he produced seemingly out of thin air and dropped it into your drink, giving you another smile as he licked sticky red juice from his thumb.
âSounds festive,â he hummed, veins in his hand bulging as he screwed the lid back on the jar.
Fucking christ on a cracker.
Was he trying to kill you?
âWell, I guessâŠâ you cringed inwardly at the words before they even left your mouth, âI guess itâs sort of my birthday too? Theyâre a couple days apart, but we always mash âem together.â
âOh, shit. Way to bury the lede, sweetheart!â
Eddie leaned on the bar again, folding his arms under his chest this time so his eyeline was level with yours and he could lean a little further forward, edging his way into your space.
âItâs not a big deal,â you insisted. âI donât really celebrate it.â
âWell, thatâs no good.â He shook his head. âYouâre definitely worth celebrating.â
Pure fire rose in your cheeks at his leading tone, and you felt your brain whirring trying to think of a response. Thankfully, a rumbly and disgruntled voice from the end of the bar called out for some attention and saved you from yourself. Eddieâs expression soured and his eyes rolled as he straightened up to full height.
âWha-a-at?!â he brayed loudly, shooting you a sly wink when he caught your wide-eyed gaze.
Your panic turned out to be unfounded, the owner of the voice giving up a wry chuckle, evidently not phased in the slightest by this outburst. The older man huddled against the wall simply smirked and snarked about how he needed to âquit flirting long enough to serve some drinks.â
âBah! Youâre just jealous, Ray,â Eddie scoffed, flapping a hand at him that turned into a warning finger. âAnd I better not catch you trying to sneak her out from under me, alright? Sheâs mine.â
This time, it wasnât just your cheeks that caught on fire. Your entire body was searing, engulfed by flames, tingling as if youâd been dunked in a vat of magma. And your mind was blankâdevoid of any thought aside from those two words flashing like a neon sign on a loop in your head:
Sheâs mine. Sheâs mine. Sheâs mine.
It had to be a bit. Just an off-handed comment he threw around without giving any thought to who it was being prescribed to. Even so, you allowed yourself to bask briefly in the satisfaction.
It made something stir deep within your gut. Some slumbering giant who had lain dormant for so long you were certain it had fallen into legend. A creature you tended from a young age, only to seal it away in a cavernous tomb before it could grow too large to containâstrong enough to decimate whole villages in a single strike.
But now it was awake. And making itself known by the ache at the crux of your thighs.
âCanât believe you werenât going to tell me it was your birthday,â Eddie chuckled as he came back to you with a teasing smile. âYouâre really racking up the free drinks tonight, huh?â
You sputtered on the sip youâd just taken of the cocktail in front of you.
âOh, no, you donât have toââ
He held a hand up to stop you, the other reaching blindly behind him to grab a bottle of rye he used to top off Rayâs drink. âNope, uh-uh, donât wanna hear it,â Eddie insisted. âItâs actually illegal for me to charge for a birthday drink. Unless, of course, you wanna see me in handcuffs?â
He leaned into your space again, lowering his voice for that last part.
His brow lifted in a suggestive arch, disappearing behind his scraggly bangs, and you felt like you might rip off a hunk of your stool you were gripping the seat so tight.
Was this real life?
Was Eddie MusnonâŠflirting with you?
The thought alone sets off a second heartbeat between your legs, practically throbbing.
Absolutely not, you answered yourself. He is a bartender and youâre at his bar. All heâs interested in is a good tip. Donât be that guy at the strip club who thinks a lap dance âmeans something.â
âNâŠno,â you answered him meekly (also lying), âwouldnât want that.â
Eddie nodded, still smiling as he grabbed a glass and started to dry it with a towel. Conveniently, remaining in the same spot in front of you.
âSo, howâs the visit so far?â he asked.
âItâs good, umâŠjust kind of strange being back,â you hemmed, hands wringing in your lap.
Eddie pulled his lower lip back with his teeth. A look you couldnât quite name flickered in his dark eyes and he shrugged, his chin dropping to his chest as he watched his hands dry another glass.
âYeah, well. You took off so fast after graduation Iâm surprised you didnât break the sound barrier.â
He kept his head bent, focused on his task, but he couldnât stop his gaze darting up to watch you through the fan of his thick lashes. You felt your breath catch when your eyes met, and promptly looked away. You took another sip of your drink, mostly sucking air through your straw while you stared at the ice, and couldnât help but wonder if he was thinking of the same thing you wereâŠ
Graduation night. The bonfire in the woods. The rows of trucks and cars parked haphazardly along the edge of the forest with their headlights shining into the treeline as the class of â86 reveled in the bacchanalia of their newly minted freedom.
The last high-school party any of you would ever attend.
You couldnât say what ultimately possessed you to go. Maybe youâd been emboldened by the fact that it was most likely the last time youâd ever see any of these people again. Maybe it was just good timing that your friend from yearbook had offered you a ride seconds after you overheard some jock confirm with Eddie that heâd be there selling that night. Maybe you wanted, for once in your entire high school career, to do something a little bit reckless and decidedly un-like yourself.
Or maybe it was just the pure, unbridled hope you might run into him there.
Eddieâs lips parted to speak again, but he was cut off by a group of younger guys who had come in and immediately started asking him about drinks and where the darts were for the dartboards.
And while he dealt with them, you found yourself drifting back into the memory of that nightâŠ
Clutching the ringed hand he offered as you clumsily tried to navigate the roots that sprawled on the forest floor; making your way towards the outermost edge of the party. Still close enough to the blaze to be scantly lit, but far enough that no one would notice you with The Freak, standing behind the thick trunk of a tall, imposing oak.
You leaned back against it, the rough bark biting into your bare back and snagging slightly on the gauzy material of your sundress. You had talked yourself into buying the revealing garment by reasoning that no one would ever even see the spaghetti straps and the nakedness of your arms and shoulders and collar bones under the bulky cover of your emerald green robe.
But now, with Eddieâs gaze drinking in the sight of all your gloriously exposed skin, you were oddly pleased you hadnât had enough time to change in between coming home from the dinner with your parents and rushing back out the door when you spotted your friendâs car pulling into the driveway.
The firelight flickered, reflecting in his eyes that were as black as the shadowy woods at his back, and you literally felt every thought in your head being obliterated. You tried to will yourself to speak but couldnât manage so much as a squeak, having used up all your boldness to approach him at the fire and ask if he had anything to smoke. Stomach tying itself into knots with every word.
With a slow smile, Eddie pushed back the curtain of his long hair and revealed the joint heâd tucked behind his ear. He held it out in a quiet offering, but you made no move to take it from him.
âI, umâŠI donât know h-how,â you admitted, heart thumping relentlessly against your ribcage.
âThatâs okay,â he said before placing the joint in between his lips instead. God, his lipsâŠ
Your pulse jumped, temples throbbing so hard you could scarcely breathe while he dug around in his jacket pocket looking for a lighter. He took a couple short, shallow puffs to get it going and a cloud of its earthy smell imbued your senses, blending with the sharper scent of the bonfire.
He then pinched it in the middle and held up the smaller end to your mouth.
âJustâŠtake it slow,â he murmured, heavy-lidded gaze transfixed somewhere on the lower half of your face. âDonât inhale too hard.â
You nodded, even though you barely registered the words he was saying you were still so deeply distracted by his lips, and the fact that your own were now so close to his fingers. Trembling like a leaf and desperately trying not to look like you were, you touched your mouth to the paper.
Oh fuck, mother bitch, that burnedâ
Tears immediately sprang in your eyes and you sputtered, trying to smother the cough as it burst forth and failing. It came out in a relentless string of dry hacks, your nose stinging and your throat tightening as you whipped your head sideways to avoid spraying spittle directly in Eddieâs face.
âYouâre okay, youâre okay,â he soothed, the tiny smile he was trying to hide coming through in his voice as he rubbed his hand across your back in a wide circle, coaxing you through your fit.
Not that you could even enjoy the sensation of his warm palm on your bare skin.
He kept it up, though, until you were able to catch your breath and stand up (somewhat) straight.
âSo-sorry,â you wheezed, giving your chest a solid thwap trying to clear your throat.
âNah,â Eddie waved off your apology, grinding the lit end of the joint into the bark of the tree before he placed it back behind his ear. âItâs really fine. Happens to the best of us. Honest.â
You felt yourself slump against the trunk in an attempt to hold yourself up. It was tough to say if the dizzy, floating feeling in your head was due to the singular hit youâd taken off that joint, or just a reaction to Eddieâs very presence. Heâd stopped rubbing your back, but hadnât yet moved away from you. Still standing close enough you were breathing in the smell of his cologne.
Slowly, his hand came up to the side of your face and he pressed the pad of his thumb to the skin just beneath your lashes, swiping away a stray tear that leaked from the corner of your eye.
In that moment, everything had seemed to slow practically to a standstill. No more breeze rustling the tree branches overhead, no more drunken teenagers stumbling into one another, no more beers sloshing out of plastic cups and splattering on the soft earth. The scope of the entire world had narrowed down to you and Eddie and the negligible number of inches between you.
âYou want, uhâŠwater? Or anything?â he asked, his thumb still idly stroking your cheekbone.
Your head shook slowly, barely conscious of the moment, your eyes never leaving his. He gazed back at you, soft and endearing, the corner of his mouth crooked up. Looking at you almost like he knew all the things youâd been thinking as you laid in your bed at night. Like heâd seen you touch your fingers to your lips in the softest, barely-there brush, imagining it was his mouth.
His shoulder shifted and you felt his other hand on your hip, gripping you purposely. Deliberately.
All at once, it was too much. The heavy pounding of your heart in your chest too rapid, turning from anticipation to terror. You felt like you were behind the wheel of a racecar whose speed had climbed too high without you noticing, teetering on the verge of spinning out of control.
Almost hearing the screech of tires, you slammed down on the brakes.
âI-I have to go.â
With the ghost of his handâs warmth still on your cheek, you slipped out of the space in between the tree and his body. In short, uneven strides you stumbled back to the party and gripped your friendâs forearm as hard as you could when you found her, insisting âwe need to leave.â
And seeing the wild, panicked look in your eyes, she didnât dare argue.
You wished he kissed you that night. You thought about it for weeks afterward, reliving every step in your head, pinpointing every humiliating second.
It was a foolâs errand, honestly. From the moment you approached him, you shouldâve known.
Eddie Munson had plenty of girls to kiss. Plenty of girls whose pits didnât sweat and whose knees didnât buckle at the thought of someone getting close to them. Who didnât tremble with full-body shakes like a neurotic chihuahua when someone put a hand on their hip.
You and he werenât even friends. Youâd never had so much as a real conversation.
The best you could muster was a timid âyouâre welcomeâ whenever heâd returned your notes after copying them, or a small wave when your eyes unwittingly met his across the cafeteria.
He talked, sure. But he could talk to anybody. He could debate a brick wall if the occasion arose. Any time heâd spent making idle chatter with you was surely just an attempt to fritter away a couple hours of class time. And youâd hung on his every word, barely offering a pittance in return.
âSorry about that,â Eddie grumbled.
He slid back into his place in front of you just as the door behind you smacked closed. The group of guys who came in left just as quickly, evidently unimpressed with his selection of Scotch.
Truthfully, you couldnât say you were sad to see them go.
âYou okay?â he asked, his head dipping to catch your eye. âYou want water, orâŠâ
Your eyes flicked up to meet his as he trailed off, his face clouding with some strange expression as his fingers drummed on the surface of the bar. His gaze was suddenly distant, almost as though he too was recalling the last time heâd asked you that. Impossible as that was.
âNâŠno,â you exhaled the sharp breath you were holding. âIâm alright.â
Eddie nodded, his head bobbing longer than was necessary as if to a song that only he could hear before he grabbed a pint glass and filled it with water anyway, setting it down in front of you.
Even without that group of guys to deal with, Eddie got annoyingly busy after that. Annoying to him, at least. He grimaced every time somebody called him away either for a refill or to order.
The bar wasnât crowded, by any means, but there was a consistent flow of people who needed him, demanding the attention he seemed antsy to direct somewhere else.
You got down to the last of your drink, and just as you were debating whether you should commit to another, a new one had appeared in front of you, delivered with a wink and a smirk from a dark-haired blur as he moved past you on his way down to the other end of the bar.
Smiling around the straw, you snuck a glance at Eddie and found him already looking back at you while he counted out l change. Your neck twinged with the urge to turn away, embarrassed at being caught, until you remembered he was the one whoâd been caught looking at you.
And he didnât seem embarrassed at all.
The small rush petered out and Eddie came back to you, letting out an exaggerated âwhew!â as he dragged the back of his hand across his brow.
âThat almost felt like work,â he groaned.
Maybe it was the rum going to your head, but you couldnât help giggling at the terrible joke, a hand coming up to cover your face when a soft snort unwittingly escaped through your nose.
Your eyes met his again, twin pools of espresso just about twinkling at the sound.
The bar was much emptier now, and quieter too. It wasnât like it had been loud before, but now its silence felt sort of daunting. The kind of silence that made you feel anxious about how to fill it.
Thankfully, Eddie was adept as ever at defeating awkward pauses.
âYou knowâŠthereâs a bunch of stuff I never knew about you,â he said after a few minutes.
âReally?â you scoffed. âLike what?â
âI donât know, lots of things,â he chuckled. âWhat about, likeâŠyour first kiss?â
Your fingers tensed around your glass. And you thought if you were a little stronger, it might have cracked open against your palm when every muscle in your face went still as stone.
You hated thinking about your first kiss.
Simply put, it was a mess. Brought on by a lethal mix of green apple vodka and your self-esteem at a record low. Sloppy and clumsy and too-quick. Over before you even had your bearings.
He justâŠattacked you. Pushed his face into yours, barely aiming. Like he was in a hurry to get it over with. Like you couldâve been anybody with a mouth and it wouldnât make any difference.
It was a guy who was sort of friends with (and sort of wanted to fuck) your roommate. One youâd go with to parties or out to the bars. But heâd only ever engaged with you after heâd been drinking. Sober, you were lucky to get so much as a cursory greetingâassuming he got your name right.
The night it happened, you'd gone out with a big group and heâd been pestering you.
Not flirting, not as far as you could tell, just irking. Stealing sips of your drink, reaching behind you to pick up the hood of your sweatshirt and pull it up over your head, tugging on your sleeves, poking you, reaching behind his friend sitting in the middle seat of the cab to tickle your ear.
Then you got home and he started texting, asking forâno, tellingâyou to come over.
And to your credit, you tried to discourage it.
Begging him off with next time, some other time, another time. Because maybe if he could muster some of this enthusiasm when he was sober, you might find yourself a little more amenable to the idea. But then he hit you with the words you had no idea would still haunt you even years later:
honestly, itâs now or never.
Youâd panicked. It had taken this long to find someone who was even willing to kiss youâwho knew how long it would be before you could find another? Before youâd ever have another chance. SoâŠyou did it. Told him to meet you outside your dorm, and kissed him. And then he left. Because of course he didnât just want to make out. But at least you had enough sense to shut that down.
You shook your head, mouth dry and your throat suddenly too tight for your words to get out.
âIt, umâŠit was nothing to write home about.â you answered, staring at your lap.
Eddie, mercifully, either didnât notice the immediate shift in your demeanor, or he simply elected to ignore it. âOkay, screw your first kiss,â he said daringly. âTell me about your best one.â
Your fingers traced the edge of your glass, running down the ridges of the facets, freezing at his question. All ofthe air in your chest rushed out, leaving the cavity constricting as you struggled to breathe normally. The molten brown of Eddieâs eyes scanned over your expression, his features wrinkling with concern when he saw the pained look that came over your face.
âI donât wanna do that,â you said quietly.
Something in your tone made Eddieâs gaze soften. He dropped down to his elbows, leaning in a bit closer and lowering his voice to a murmur. Something just for you to hear.
âHow come?â he asked.
âBecause IâŠâ Your throat tightened in a thick, dry swallow and you had to take a swig of your drink before you could go on, â...because Iâve never really had a good one.â
The admission hangs in what little space there is between your faces. As soon as the words left your lips, you wished you could take them back. Suck them back into your lungs and rewind the whole evening until your feet carried you back out to the parking lot and over the gravel where your car was parked, back to your room at your parents house where you belonged.
âNever?â Eddie frowned.
And you canât say if itâs the softness in his voice or the confusion in his eyes, but you keep going. Trying to shrug it off, trying not to sound so sad and pathetic. Broken and weary.
âThey always kinda rushed it,â you said. âI didnât get a chance to breathe or think, they justââ
âNo drumroll,â Eddie finished for you.
His expression seemed to curdle like heâd just smelled something sour, his jaw ticking in a hard set frown. The veins in his arms stood out slightly as his grip tightened on the bar towel heâd been using to dry some glassware while you talked.
âThatâs awfully disappointing,â he sighed, twirling the towel between his hands and then snapping it lightly against the edge of the bar with a soft tap. âSometimes the lead-in is the best part.â
âYeah, well,â you shrugged and swept the back of your hand across your cheek just to be sure you werenât crying. âClearly, I pick a lot of winners.â
Eddie chortled at that, his chest rising in a short puff. âAny of âem still live âround here?â he asked. âGimme some names, Iâll take care of the rest.â
âOh, no,â you shook your head rapidly, âthis was in college. I neverââ
You winced, cringing inwardly at what youâd been about to reveal: that you had gone most of your adolescent life without kissing anyone. That the thing most people had knocked out by the time they were pre-teens, you hadnât managed until you were well into your twenties. And even when you did, it was always so dissatisfying. Lacking.
You let out a joyless laugh, glancing down at the drink in front of you. âI mean, nobody around here was ever interested, soââ
âBullshit.â
âHuh?â
âIâm calling bullshit, sweetheart,â Eddie echoed himself, the sing-song words laced with a leading tone. âI know for a fact someone liked you.â
âOh, really?â you scoffed in disbelief as you went to take another sip. âLike who?â
That devilish smile twisted up the corner of his lips again, and he tilted his head. âMe, for one.â
Your sinuses erupted with pain as you nearly shot ginger ale out of your nose. You blinked furiously and your hand shot up to cover your face.
âYoâyou what?â you sputtered, still half-choking.
âAlways thought you were cute,â he shrugged. âGot a thing for smart girls.â
You felt your stomach drop, plummeting to the dingy floor underneath your feet.
Jesus. Were you really so pathetic that Eddie Munson had to dream up some imaginary crush just to make you feel better? This was a level of rock bottom youâd never imagined hitting. With a trembling hand, you reached for a napkin at the same time Eddie offered you one, your fingers meeting briefly when you took it, static crackling in the air and tingling where youâd touched.
You dabbed under your nose, still burning from the threat of fizzy ginger ale shooting through it.
âI wasnât that smart,â you muttered, mostly to yourself. âTrust me.â
Eddieâs mouth popped open to respond, but he didn't get the chance. From the same spot he had not moved from all night, Rayâs voice cut through the low music playing over the sound system.
He said something about his chariot being on the way and having to cash outâassuming that Eddie actually wanted to get paid that night. The pair of them traded a few more friendly barbs you were starting to glean were par for the course for these two, and as Ray settles up it dawns on you.
Aside from him, youâre the only one left in the bar.
While you were distracted with Eddie, everybody else had steadily filtered out until it was down to just the three of you. And once Ray was gone, it would be just you and him. All alone.
Once heâd paid, Ray slid off of his stool and Eddie came out from behind the bar to help him over to the door. The two of them chuckled together as Eddie held it open for him and then pulled it firmly shut once they said their goodbyes.
But then, instead of returning to his side of the bar, he sidled up next to you instead.
You fought the instinct to jump when Eddie appeared at your side, the closest heâd been to you all night. His scent was even stronger, sweat and musk mingling with the aromas of bitters and liquor. It made you feel woozy, swaying on your stool like youâd taken a shot of 100-proof him.
âI need a break,â he said, nodding in the direction of the back door then tapping the pack of smokes rolled into his shirt sleeve that sat on his shoulder.
You blinked back at him mutely.
Was that your cue to get lost? If you werenât here, would he be able to close up and go home? If he genuinely wasnât going to charge you for your drinks, you had no tab to settle.
You could just tip him and go. Get out of his hair. God, his hair. His beautiful, beautiful hair.
âOhâŠkay,â you said slowly, mentally flogging yourself for remaining in your seat when he was so clearly trying to get rid of you. But you couldnât find the will to standânot when you were being pinned down by his devilishly handsome smile and his penetrating, all-consuming stare.
He chuckled, letting his head fall to rest his cheek on his shoulder, his eyes shining as he smiled at you and then nodded at the back door again.
âCome keep me company, sweetheart.â
The back of the Hideout wasnât all that different from the front.
Aside from the dumpsters and the wooden crates stacked next to them, it was nearly identical. And rather of an assortment of cars parked across the gravel lot, it was Eddieâs van pulled up next to the loading door, alongside the cinderblock structure.
A single flood light shone down on the two of you as he pushed the door open, brandishing his free arm with a flourish as though he was escorting you into a castle rather than an alley.
You giggled at the display, recalling how he used to do the exact same thing when you were leaving the one class you had in commonâhanging back after the bell had rung so you and he were walking out at the same time, then scurrying ahead of you to grab the door and hold it before it closed.
Hugging yourself despite the balmy night air, your eyes darted about nervously, looking anywhere but at him, already mentally preparing an excuse for not taking a cigarette when he offered one.
Except Eddie didnât even reach for his pack.
âSoâŠâ he said, spinning abruptly to face you, âIâve been thinking about something.â
âReally?â you asked. âWhatâs that?â
âI justâŠâ he sighed and tipped his head back, exhaling up to the sky. He brought his eyes back down and you swore tiny pieces of the moon had landed in them. âI think you deserve a good kiss.â
You stared back at him, speechless as youâd been when he recognized you the moment you came into the bar. Beneath you, your legs had started to tremble and you felt your breathing get heavier. Your shoulders tensed, thinking any minute youâd be hearing the blare of your alarm clock.
âOh,â was all you could say.
Eddie licked his lips thoughtfully, taking a careful step closer to you. âAnd I,â he started with a thick swallow, âwould really like to give you one.â
You felt your eyes widen, about ready to pop out of their sockets. The âYESâ you wanted to scream gets lodged so tight in your throat you think you might actually choke, mouth dropping open.
âIs thatâŠokay?â he asked, tilting his head at you as he parsed your expression. It was more than okay. It sounded like a dream come true.
You took the deepest breath you could manage, chest shuddering with the effort, and nodded
âOkay,â Eddie said, letting out a breath of his own, as if he had been holding it. âGood.â
He took your hand in his and carefully brought it up to the nape of his neck. He helped you thread your fingers into his hair and encouraged you to grasp his curls firmly at the root. Your breathing hitched as his touch trailed over your knuckles and down your forearm to your elbow.
âDonât be scared to hold on tight,â he burred low in your ear. âI like it when it hurts a little.â
Your grip tensed as his hands settled on your hips, squeezing gently as he backed you up to the brick wall. It felt gritty and cold against your back, but you couldnât find it in you to care one bit.
Eddieâs hands squeezed again, sliding them up a little higher to your waist.
âFuck, are you beautifulâŠâ he murmured, his eyes flitting wherever they were able at such close proximity. The slope of your nose, the curve of your jaw, the graceful lines of your neck.
His voice was so soft, so adoring, you felt your knees liquifying. You wanted nothing more than to believe him implicitly, but you couldn't stop the little seed of doubt deep in your gut that quivered beneath the earth from peeking out through the undergrowth until it had sprouted.
âReally?â you whispered, hating how mousey you sounded. How timid and unsure.
He brought one of his hands up to cradle the side of your face. Your eyes fluttered closed, leaning in to the warmth of his palm, interrupted only by the cool bite of his rings that dissipated when they warmed to the temperature of your skin.
Still, you couldn't help but shiver when your eyes opened to find Eddie's gaze focused so intently on yours, squinting in a bemused sort of way.
âDo you honestly not know?â he asked you with a slow grin. âYou really donât see it?â
All you could do was shrug. You didn't think you were, like, hideous or anything. But you had never been particularly impressed by your looks. And no one had ever looked at you or acted like you were some ethereal being who'd fallen to earth just to grace these mere mortals with your face.
Well, at least not until now.
âEddie, youâŠâ
He shook his head, stopping your words on their way out of your mouth. Like somehow heâd heard the âdonât have to do thisâ youâd been thinking.
âI know,â he whispered, close enough that his breath hit your skin in a soft puff. âI want to.â
He took a long moment, letting the edge of his thumb brush along the high points of your cheek. His gaze only grew more intense, his face inching closer as his eyes began to flutter closed. You felt your foot hovering over that imaginary brake pad, threatening to slam down on it just like it had all those years ago. But it never does.
You donât let it.
His nose touched your face before his lips, its rounded tip pressing into the apple of your cheek before your mouth melds with his. Itâs the softest, slowest, most tender kiss you ever experienced. He lets you have all the time in the world to think about it, to notice the ways his movements ebb and flow, his jaw and mouth all working together.
To feel the way his chest expands, taking the deepest breath of you he can and holding it inside his lungs like he canât stand the idea of losing whatever part of you he just inhaled.
You have all this time to think, but your head has never been so empty. No, not empty. Quiet.
Itâs as if sound itself ceases to exist. Not even your own rapid heartbeat pounding in your ears is enough to break through the pure peace of finally, finally getting to kiss Eddie Munson.
Thereâs no more cars whizzing past, speeding down the two-lane highway. Thereâs no more hum of the exhaust fan or relentless buzz of the bare bulb flickering over the back door.
Thereâs justâŠnothing.
Nothing but the feel of Eddieâs mouth tenaciously exploring yours, dragging every second out into a minute and savoring like itâs something preciousâsomething heâs scared heâll never get again.
He doesnât dare pull back when your lips part with a quiet click, just stays right there with his face close to yours and his shaky breath expelling. Itâs only as the world slowly leaks back into focus that you realize his fingers are trembling against your waist and his bottom lip is quivering.
âThat wasâŠwow.â
You canât help but laugh gently at his words, dizzy with the elation that went straight to your head. His eyes flit across your face, his brows lifting in a silent request for more.
Your nod is shaky, but lacks no enthusiasm. And itâs all the permission he needs to dive back in.
He takes you faster this time, clutching you harder to pull you tighter against him. Thereâs a latent strength in his arms, a tension coiled in his corded muscles heâs working so hard to restrain.
Donât, you wanted to scream at him. Donât stop, donât hold back, I want it allâ
God, you wished you could will the words to leave your throat. They sat there, lodged firmly in your esophagus, practically cutting off air supply.
Eddie moved his hands upwards to cup your face, squishing your cheeks just a little as he cradled them tenderly in his calloused palms.
You hummed into his mouth, excited and anxious all at once, and Eddie sucks in a breath through his nose. Like heâs not gonna let something stupid like breathing get in the way of this.
You break apart just shy of your lungs bursting, the both of you panting heavily into one anotherâs mouths, trying to catch your breath. He blinks heavily, dazed and delirious as he asks,
âWhenâs your birthday?â
âWhâŠhuh?â
âYour birthday,â he repeated, still panting, âwas it today?â
You tried to thinkâa Herculean sort of effort when you could still taste Eddieâs lips on yoursâand finally sifted something from the primordial ooze heâd turned your brain into.
âN-no. Itâs, uhhâŠâ It took you a second to remember what day it even was. âItâs tomorrow.â
âThank god,â Eddie grinned and breathed out in relief. âI want to take you out.â
âOut?â You blinked a couple times, brow pinching together. âOutâŠwhere?â
âLike for a date, out,â he couldnât help but snicker. âMovie. Dinner. General revelry?â
Warmth exploded in the middle of your chest. âYouâŠyouâre not working?â
âPegâll cover for me,â he said assuredly. âIf itâs for something important.â
âAnd IâmâŠâ you looked back at him, hope shining in your gaze, â...important?â
He smiled at you again, eyes all peaceful and dreamy as he reached up to trace the side of your face, sweeping the tips of his fingers from your temple to the bottom of your chin.
âIf you even have to ask,â he sighed and shook his head, âI didnât do my job right.â
And then his mouth is on yours again, his hand sliding back to cup the nape of your neck, holding you in place as he kisses you deeply. Itâs not, not a sweet kiss, but itâs not just sweet. Thereâs a little something more to it this time. Something dizzying and breath-stealing andâŠhot.
You feel his body press up against yours fully before he remembers himself, but the loss of heat and pressure makes you mewl pitifully into his mouth. No. Donât. Stay, you want to beg.
Your hands moved out of their own volition and grasped fistfuls of his shirt, tugging him back into you. His laugh rumbles low in his throat and you can feel him smiling into your next kiss.
A smile that doesnât dim one bit when you part.
âShould we, umâŠâ you heard your own giggle, the twitterpated reaction semialien to your dazed and dopamine-addled brain. âShould we go back in?â
Eddie let out a tiny noise that sounded dangerous close to a whine. âWhat for?â he asked.
âI donât know,â you tittered, âjust to be sure youâre not being robbed blind or something?â
You glanced at the door, imagining the bar filled with big disgruntled men ransacking the liquor on the other side, descending into chaos with no one to stop them. Eddieâs teeth flashed in a grin, dark chuckle stuttering in his chest, a mischievous edge to the sound you remembered well.
Normally hearing it right before he did something particularly devious.
âOh, sweetheart,â he exhaled, letting his forehead rest against yours, âthe doorâs been locked and the signâs been off since Ray left.â
big time snuggles for reading my lil indulgence đ this one is for the bad-kiss-havers, we deserve a re-do. love you, mean it!