b-ritney

[b-ritney]

Ok fuck this whole romance thing… he came onto me first and he still played me LMFAO 😂

[b-ritney]

I’m so proud of myself.. I only thought about him 998 times today… that’s 2 less than yesterday :)

[b-ritney]

Please for the love of f**king gawd just ask me out 🥹

Is what I’d say to him if I wasn’t a massive baby

[b-ritney]

Hey y'all sorry I've been absent lately. An incredible boy came into my life so I've been a little distracted lately haha I've also been working but lmao

[b-ritney]

<3

I saw you wrote for all three boys during date night and I didn’t know if it was fine to ask for headcannons of them separately with reader. Like what would dating them look like?

It's always okay to ask for that! I love doing headcanons for the boys! Sorry it took so long but I'm back to writing!!! I hope you enjoy it!!!

Billy-

Billy is so rough around the edges but for you, he is a sweetie (I'm such a sucker for that type of love)

He wants you to know he really does love you! So he tries and does whatever he can for you.

Most of the time he shows his love by protecting you and making sure you're safe. This can be shown when you two are at a party, he makes sure you don't over drink and if you leave to go to the bathroom he holds your drink to make sure no one messes with it.

He is a bit over-protective of you and sometimes that can lead to arguments but it does come from a good place. He just doesn't want to lose you.

He calls you his angel because he really views you as an angel that was sent to him

Ever since you two got together he's been less angry, less violent, and more friendly to Max and her friends.

Billy figures out that he's truly in love with you when you find out about his dad. That night he showed up bruised up and when he told you it was because of his dad it took a lot in him to stop you from going over there and making Neal have matching bruises.

His favorite type of date is driving around town with the windows down and once you get to your special spot he pulls out a blanket from the trunk and you just watch the stars. However, he never looks at the stars...he only ever watches you.

Steve-

Spoils you every. single. time. Doesn't matter how

He hates his parents but that doesn't mean he won't use their money to spoil you.

Calls you his princess because he knows you deserve the world and he will give it to you somehow.

He worships you, especially if you've been with him since his king steve era. He knows how awful he was during that time of his life and he can't believe you stayed with him through all of it.

He realizes he is in love with you when you hold him closely after a night terror. He hides his trauma from a lot of people. He's the strong one for so many people and he isn't used to people taking care of him so when he woke up to you waking him up one morning around 2 am he knew that you were the one. You held him close to your chest that night and played with his hair for hours, letting him feel that you were close, that you weren't going anywhere. That night he fell asleep to your heartbeat and finally didn't have any sort of night terror.

His favorite type of date is cooking together! He loves the intimacy and domestic vibes that come from it.

Eddie-

Gets insecure at times. He trusts you but he knows there are other guys who could spoil you more than he can. He doesn't like that he is so much poorer than the others in town, he feels awful when he can't pay for something you want but he knows you both love each other so much so he tries not to focus on it.

Such a sweetie to you! He treats you like a queen because you are to him

He writes songs about you but if you hear them he will deny it all! He says he doesn't do love songs but it's clear he's just a lovesick puppy when it comes to you

You are his baby. He would call you sweetheart but....what if his guitar gets jealous?!?

He realizes he is in love with you when he comes homes one night after Hellfire to see you already there making dinner for Wayne and him. You didn't realize he had arrived since you were talking to Wayne about how his job was going, but it made him realize that you were the one. Anyone who takes time out of their day to not only take care of him but also his old man will forever have his heart.

His favorite type of date is when you come over, order takeout, and just listen to music. He tries and teaches you how to play the guitar and every time you do well he gives you a kiss.

Tagging: @sweet-villain @b-ritney @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @eiightysixbaby @zestychili @livinnadaydream @tiannasfanfic @djkeruigbbygirl @emmyshortcake @bloodthirstybreedingbunny

@bookshelf-dust

If you like please comment, reblog, and even request an idea for me to write!!!

[b-ritney]

Y’all I gotta white boy on my rosta 😳

[b-ritney]

Y'all remember Warren Peace from Sky High... Jesus that guy had my little ass torn tf up. I loved that man.

#so damn fine #damn that man is fine

[b-ritney]

you ever read a fanfic and just sit back and think...someone wrote something THIS good... and then just....published it on the internet....for free.....

[b-ritney]

Star-Shaped Night Light

Dumb-ass single dad mechanic Eddie x fem! reader ANGST

Warnings: Trials of single parenthood, talks of Eddie's past with his parents nothing violent, Eddie being dumb, cussing...

Pre-reading: This idea came to me after reading a few other single dad stories, I will try to find them and add them to a tag list here but I was definitely inspired by other writers... that being said all my ideas are original and I made sure I didn't come to close to anyone else's work bc that's stealing duh but yes this story was inspired through other very talented writers.

Story Summary: Eddie's childhood friend stuck by his side through thick and thin. How does he choose to repay her? He pushes her away.

2.4k words

I tried to proofread there are prob still typos

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The thud of his heavy boots clunked at a sleepy cadence as he trudged up the steps for the evening. Just as he does every day, he spent his entire car ride home contemplating what he did to deserve the girl sitting at home with his child that isn't hers.

The gentle, caring girl who put her life on hold to help his sorry ass raise a child...that's not hers...yet she loves that baby as if she grew it in her own belly.

He opened the door quietly and shut the door even quieter predicting correctly his daughter was asleep. As he stood there with his back to the door, turning his wrist until the deadbolt latched he caught a whiff of her perfume from her jacket hanging on the wall next to him... she's worn the same one since high school, it took him back to the day he met her...it made his chest ache with fondness. It also made him sick... because his love for her was criminally selfish... his biggest regret is that the baby you were rocking in the nursery wasn't yours... which sounds insane...but if he could go back and do it differently he would have listened to you and been careful. He would have waited until he could have seen you through your dreams and achievements and then put a ring on your finger. He would have done it different... he would have done it right... he knows what you would say if you could hear his thoughts...

You'd say something incredible like, "Eddie, there is no right way to do this. Sure there are more sustainable... or historically accepted ways of doing life but you are doing just fine and I'll always be here." Fuck. It made him want to cry. He untied his boots and slipped out of them, and shrugged off his old jacket... he stepped lightly into the kitchen and pushed the straps of his overalls off his shoulders to reveal his mostly clean white t-shirt. He twisted the knob on the sink and let the water run over his fingers until it was warm... a post-it note on the window caught his eye and broke his heart,

*Ed, there's a plate for you in the microwave, I'm in the back rocking Mel. Hope you had a good day. :)*

The water scalded his hand snapping him out of his teary-eyed stare at the little luminescent pink piece of paper stuck to the window, and the fucking ridiculously undeserved thoughtful actions attached to the message that made his stomach twist into knots.

He diligently washed his hands and padded them off with the dish towel. Then quietly made his way to check on you... he passed the open door of the hall bathroom that was illuminated by the little star night light you brought from your house the second time you spent the night at his trailer... that's when he found out that out of all things you were afraid of the dark...and even though you sprinted like a track racer through his home you still let him sleep through the night and comforted his baby when she cried into the early hours of the morning...

He was already just holding on by a thread when he reached the nursery door, but when he heard you singing to the baby that wasn't yours he trembled. He leaned back on the opposite wall and looked down at the space between the floor and the bedroom door, where the most beautiful sound floated into the dimly lit hall, he crossed his arms over his chest as if to block his heart from hearing the sound... so keep himself from loving you more than he already did... and held the knuckles of his left hand to his chapped lips as if to think for the first time in his life before he did something as fucking stupid as he was about to do. He mouthed the words with you... it's the same song you gifted him the day he found out Melody's mother was pregnant... you apparently had been looking for him all afternoon after he went MIA... he was working a graveyard shift and you showed up in your pj's and brought him food just to sit in the garage and keep him company while he took advantage of your kindness and talked your ear off about his problems until 3 o'clock in the morning. You stayed with him until you convinced his stubborn ass to go home and sleep on it; so he could make good decisions about his next steps. Before you walked away you handed him a small rectangular package wrapped in shimmery paper left over from Christmas two months prior. "...Ed..." you sighed trying to think of what to say, "I won't lie to you and say I understand what this is like... but... I'll do what I can to help." you scratched your head and smiled sympathetically, "call me tomorrow so I know you're alright." With that, you handed him the gift and got in your car leaving him rigid in the chill of that early February morning... he slid into the driver seat of the van and tore open the package... a mix tape.. scribbled with blue pen across the label:

Take It Easy :) love, y/n

He swiped a tear from under his tired eyes as you hummed the higher-pitched notes so as to continue soothing his child...

"Well, I'm running down the road trying to loosen my load Got a world of trouble on my mind Lookin' for a lover who won't blow my cover She's so hard to find"

He let out a shuddered breath as he pushed off the wall slowly turning the nob. You were curled up in the corner in Wayne's old rocking chair, cradling Melody in a perfectly wrapped swaddle you had practiced for a week just to help him figure it out. You smiled up at him when he walked in, effectively making him pre-regret everything before it even happened. You whispered for him to help you out of the rocking chair so you could lay the baby in her cradle. He scampered over and tilted the chair forward supporting your back with his free arm as you swayed your hips to keep his kid in a constant state of comfort. "Night Mel, Love you baby girl," you whispered kissing his baby on the head lightly. Eddie followed suit before following you out into the kitchen. You were already warming up his dinner when he caught up to you...

"How was she?" he asked trying like hell to keep down the bile in the back of his throat.

"Perfect as always," you said leaning against the kitchen counter, "How was work?"

He could feel sweat dripping down his neck, "Good, good..." he took a steadying breath and bit the bullet like the reckless idiot he always was... "Listen can we talk?"

"Uh oh," you laughed quietly, he was about to blindside you, and it made him feel shittier than anything he's ever done. He motioned for you to follow him out front with his shoulder he grabbed your jacket and keys from the tray. He slid the jacket up your arms.. the same arms that have been protecting his baby since the moment she was dumped into his care six months ago. Once the door was shut he tried to hide his watery eyes and trembling hands behind a cigarette.

"Eddie? What's going on?" your big emerald eyes bore into his soul.

"I don't want you to take this... the wrong way... because I appreciate everything you've done for me.. more than I'll ever be able to express..." He took a long pause leaving you in more agony than he could fathom.

"Eddie...?" so many questions lingered in the one word... what did I do wrong?, how can I fix it? The answer is a gut-punching nothing absolutely fucking nothing... he's just a coward.

"There's no... non-dick-headed way for me to say this but... I don't think you and Melody need to be around each other anymore." "Eddie...?" What the fuck are you talking about? Please don't take her from me. What did I do? What changed? After everything I've done for you...

"You aren't her mother y/n."

A fat tear rolled down her cheek. Jesus Christ... It dawns on him in this terrible moment that this is the first time he's ever seen her cry... and it's his fault.

"I've loved that child more than her real mom ever did. What is this about?" She clutched at the frayed ends of her old jacket for some sense of comfort. The once pleasant May breeze suddenly felt frigid against her damp cheeks.

"She's gonna think- she's gonna think she's yours... and that we are together... I'm just trying to get ahead of the inevitable, I just don't want to put her through that... this isn't what I want her to remember when she gets older."

He knew he royally fucked up when he manned up enough to look up from the floor. Your face was turning purple from holding back whatever emotions were running through your tired mind.

"You don't want her to remember that despite the way everything looks she has people around her that love her more than anything...?" Your sneakers dug into the gravel at your feet as if to beg the earth for some stability.

"I just- don't want her getting attached."

"Children have nannies Ed.... and fuck you. I've given up over a year of my life to get you through this..." From inside the belly of the trailer, Melody whimpered and whined until she began to wail. You stood frozen in the driveway, Eddie looked right back... he watched the way your muscles fired to go toward the sound, the way your blunt nails dug into your palms with nerves... what really fucked him is up in the way you clutched your chest... the same way you were rocking Mel only fifteen minutes before the rug was snatched from beneath your feet.

You patted the empty spot on your chest where his baby has slept many nights, what was once a warm comforting spot now felt hollow. "Fucking look at me you prick... it hurts this bad because you know it's wrong... and I don't think it's Melody you're actually worried about "getting attached"." You sucked in a hurried breath... "I love that little girl Eddie." Your voice tapered off into a whispered high-pitched whine as you tried to hold back your own river of tears. "I've stood by you through everything...and you are telling me you don't want your child to remember someone who loves YOU and HER unconditionally...? Eddie, I've backed you up through a lot of fucked up shit but this has got to be the worst."

"You can't tell me you don't understand where I'm coming from..."

"Oh I do... trust me I do... your mom ran off because of your dad, your dad was a deadbeat...but your uncle took you in because damn him if anything happened to that little curly-headed mess of a boy.... he isn't your dad Eddie and I've never seen a person love as deeply as Wayne... Funny how you forget so quickly that I've known you for so long..."

He was silent... what could he say.. he knew before he opened his mouth this was wrong. Nothing he could piece together in his mind sounded right so he just accepted it, "Let me give you some cash for your trouble."

She huffed dumbfounded, "I don't want your fucking money. I want to be a part of her life I want to be a part of your life... but you're pushing me away because you are scared of me... you're scared of this," she pointed her finger upward and made an irritated circular motion, "you always run when the going gets tough Eddie... but despite how you feel... you're responsible for more than yourself now." She tilted her head toward the sound of his screeching child.

"Pocket the fucking cash and go get Melody."

You got in your car without another word the headlights casting him in an accusatory light for all of the stars above to see... he felt like the heavens were glaring down at him for shutting out the answer to his prayers. He couldn't see you over the shine of the low beams but he could hear a choked sob rip through the steel doors and windows. The last thing you said to him rattled between his ears as he turned and went inside. He dusted off his pants with his calloused hands in a futile attempt to rid himself of the dirty feeling that settled over him like dust. He leaned over the sink and watched as a tear slid down the tip of his nose and rippled in the dishwater of a baby bottle you had used to feed Mel earlier in the evening. As he turned on the water and waited for it to get warm he made the mistake of looking up.

Staring back at him the little pink Post-it sagged in the window, the steam from below causing it to detach and drift dismally down into the water where your sweet message morphed into a convoluted mess of black ink until it faded into nothingness and the paper split apart in the sink... Melody cried the microwave beeped to remind him that a homemade meal was getting cold...

*..it hurts this bad because you know it's wrong*

He carried himself down the hall past the night light in the bathroom and gathered Melody in his arms tucking her into his chest just like you did. He tried to re-tuck her swaddle but it wasn't as uniform as yours... he rocked her and bounced her he tried everything he knew but she still cried... he walked with her out into the hall, where he was once again crushed by a memory that took him out like a rouge wave. As the soft glow from your night light seeped onto the scratchy carpet of the hall he was reminded of the night he came home to you and Mel sleeping up against the door frame... You had tried everything to soothe her just as he had now... yet she still cried... you were exhausted but you sat with her on the floor under the light until she slept... you told him you were waiting for him to get home to move because you didn't want to walk into the dark alone... Another tear stung his raw skin, as he slid down the door frame under the nightlight...cradling his daughter in his undeserving hands. As the reality dawned on him that not only did he make you cry tonight... but he pushed you into the dark alone.

[b-ritney]

OMG, you are too sweet! Imma go cryyyy... I need them together too! I can't deal with how it ended bahaha

Star-Shaped Night Light

Dumb-ass single dad mechanic Eddie x fem! reader ANGST

Warnings: Trials of single parenthood, talks of Eddie's past with his parents nothing violent, Eddie being dumb, cussing...

Pre-reading: This idea came to me after reading a few other single dad stories, I will try to find them and add them to a tag list here but I was definitely inspired by other writers... that being said all my ideas are original and I made sure I didn't come to close to anyone else's work bc that's stealing duh but yes this story was inspired through other very talented writers.

Story Summary: Eddie's childhood friend stuck by his side through thick and thin. How does he choose to repay her? He pushes her away.

2.4k words

I tried to proofread there are prob still typos

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The thud of his heavy boots clunked at a sleepy cadence as he trudged up the steps for the evening. Just as he does every day, he spent his entire car ride home contemplating what he did to deserve the girl sitting at home with his child that isn't hers.

The gentle, caring girl who put her life on hold to help his sorry ass raise a child...that's not hers...yet she loves that baby as if she grew it in her own belly.

He opened the door quietly and shut the door even quieter predicting correctly his daughter was asleep. As he stood there with his back to the door, turning his wrist until the deadbolt latched he caught a whiff of her perfume from her jacket hanging on the wall next to him... she's worn the same one since high school, it took him back to the day he met her...it made his chest ache with fondness. It also made him sick... because his love for her was criminally selfish... his biggest regret is that the baby you were rocking in the nursery wasn't yours... which sounds insane...but if he could go back and do it differently he would have listened to you and been careful. He would have waited until he could have seen you through your dreams and achievements and then put a ring on your finger. He would have done it different... he would have done it right... he knows what you would say if you could hear his thoughts...

You'd say something incredible like, "Eddie, there is no right way to do this. Sure there are more sustainable... or historically accepted ways of doing life but you are doing just fine and I'll always be here." Fuck. It made him want to cry. He untied his boots and slipped out of them, and shrugged off his old jacket... he stepped lightly into the kitchen and pushed the straps of his overalls off his shoulders to reveal his mostly clean white t-shirt. He twisted the knob on the sink and let the water run over his fingers until it was warm... a post-it note on the window caught his eye and broke his heart,

*Ed, there's a plate for you in the microwave, I'm in the back rocking Mel. Hope you had a good day. :)*

The water scalded his hand snapping him out of his teary-eyed stare at the little luminescent pink piece of paper stuck to the window, and the fucking ridiculously undeserved thoughtful actions attached to the message that made his stomach twist into knots.

He diligently washed his hands and padded them off with the dish towel. Then quietly made his way to check on you... he passed the open door of the hall bathroom that was illuminated by the little star night light you brought from your house the second time you spent the night at his trailer... that's when he found out that out of all things you were afraid of the dark...and even though you sprinted like a track racer through his home you still let him sleep through the night and comforted his baby when she cried into the early hours of the morning...

He was already just holding on by a thread when he reached the nursery door, but when he heard you singing to the baby that wasn't yours he trembled. He leaned back on the opposite wall and looked down at the space between the floor and the bedroom door, where the most beautiful sound floated into the dimly lit hall, he crossed his arms over his chest as if to block his heart from hearing the sound... so keep himself from loving you more than he already did... and held the knuckles of his left hand to his chapped lips as if to think for the first time in his life before he did something as fucking stupid as he was about to do. He mouthed the words with you... it's the same song you gifted him the day he found out Melody's mother was pregnant... you apparently had been looking for him all afternoon after he went MIA... he was working a graveyard shift and you showed up in your pj's and brought him food just to sit in the garage and keep him company while he took advantage of your kindness and talked your ear off about his problems until 3 o'clock in the morning. You stayed with him until you convinced his stubborn ass to go home and sleep on it; so he could make good decisions about his next steps. Before you walked away you handed him a small rectangular package wrapped in shimmery paper left over from Christmas two months prior. "...Ed..." you sighed trying to think of what to say, "I won't lie to you and say I understand what this is like... but... I'll do what I can to help." you scratched your head and smiled sympathetically, "call me tomorrow so I know you're alright." With that, you handed him the gift and got in your car leaving him rigid in the chill of that early February morning... he slid into the driver seat of the van and tore open the package... a mix tape.. scribbled with blue pen across the label:

Take It Easy :) love, y/n

He swiped a tear from under his tired eyes as you hummed the higher-pitched notes so as to continue soothing his child...

"Well, I'm running down the road trying to loosen my load Got a world of trouble on my mind Lookin' for a lover who won't blow my cover She's so hard to find"

He let out a shuddered breath as he pushed off the wall slowly turning the nob. You were curled up in the corner in Wayne's old rocking chair, cradling Melody in a perfectly wrapped swaddle you had practiced for a week just to help him figure it out. You smiled up at him when he walked in, effectively making him pre-regret everything before it even happened. You whispered for him to help you out of the rocking chair so you could lay the baby in her cradle. He scampered over and tilted the chair forward supporting your back with his free arm as you swayed your hips to keep his kid in a constant state of comfort. "Night Mel, Love you baby girl," you whispered kissing his baby on the head lightly. Eddie followed suit before following you out into the kitchen. You were already warming up his dinner when he caught up to you...

"How was she?" he asked trying like hell to keep down the bile in the back of his throat.

"Perfect as always," you said leaning against the kitchen counter, "How was work?"

He could feel sweat dripping down his neck, "Good, good..." he took a steadying breath and bit the bullet like the reckless idiot he always was... "Listen can we talk?"

"Uh oh," you laughed quietly, he was about to blindside you, and it made him feel shittier than anything he's ever done. He motioned for you to follow him out front with his shoulder he grabbed your jacket and keys from the tray. He slid the jacket up your arms.. the same arms that have been protecting his baby since the moment she was dumped into his care six months ago. Once the door was shut he tried to hide his watery eyes and trembling hands behind a cigarette.

"Eddie? What's going on?" your big emerald eyes bore into his soul.

"I don't want you to take this... the wrong way... because I appreciate everything you've done for me.. more than I'll ever be able to express..." He took a long pause leaving you in more agony than he could fathom.

"Eddie...?" so many questions lingered in the one word... what did I do wrong?, how can I fix it? The answer is a gut-punching nothing absolutely fucking nothing... he's just a coward.

"There's no... non-dick-headed way for me to say this but... I don't think you and Melody need to be around each other anymore." "Eddie...?" What the fuck are you talking about? Please don't take her from me. What did I do? What changed? After everything I've done for you...

"You aren't her mother y/n."

A fat tear rolled down her cheek. Jesus Christ... It dawns on him in this terrible moment that this is the first time he's ever seen her cry... and it's his fault.

"I've loved that child more than her real mom ever did. What is this about?" She clutched at the frayed ends of her old jacket for some sense of comfort. The once pleasant May breeze suddenly felt frigid against her damp cheeks.

"She's gonna think- she's gonna think she's yours... and that we are together... I'm just trying to get ahead of the inevitable, I just don't want to put her through that... this isn't what I want her to remember when she gets older."

He knew he royally fucked up when he manned up enough to look up from the floor. Your face was turning purple from holding back whatever emotions were running through your tired mind.

"You don't want her to remember that despite the way everything looks she has people around her that love her more than anything...?" Your sneakers dug into the gravel at your feet as if to beg the earth for some stability.

"I just- don't want her getting attached."

"Children have nannies Ed.... and fuck you. I've given up over a year of my life to get you through this..." From inside the belly of the trailer, Melody whimpered and whined until she began to wail. You stood frozen in the driveway, Eddie looked right back... he watched the way your muscles fired to go toward the sound, the way your blunt nails dug into your palms with nerves... what really fucked him is up in the way you clutched your chest... the same way you were rocking Mel only fifteen minutes before the rug was snatched from beneath your feet.

You patted the empty spot on your chest where his baby has slept many nights, what was once a warm comforting spot now felt hollow. "Fucking look at me you prick... it hurts this bad because you know it's wrong... and I don't think it's Melody you're actually worried about "getting attached"." You sucked in a hurried breath... "I love that little girl Eddie." Your voice tapered off into a whispered high-pitched whine as you tried to hold back your own river of tears. "I've stood by you through everything...and you are telling me you don't want your child to remember someone who loves YOU and HER unconditionally...? Eddie, I've backed you up through a lot of fucked up shit but this has got to be the worst."

"You can't tell me you don't understand where I'm coming from..."

"Oh I do... trust me I do... your mom ran off because of your dad, your dad was a deadbeat...but your uncle took you in because damn him if anything happened to that little curly-headed mess of a boy.... he isn't your dad Eddie and I've never seen a person love as deeply as Wayne... Funny how you forget so quickly that I've known you for so long..."

He was silent... what could he say.. he knew before he opened his mouth this was wrong. Nothing he could piece together in his mind sounded right so he just accepted it, "Let me give you some cash for your trouble."

She huffed dumbfounded, "I don't want your fucking money. I want to be a part of her life I want to be a part of your life... but you're pushing me away because you are scared of me... you're scared of this," she pointed her finger upward and made an irritated circular motion, "you always run when the going gets tough Eddie... but despite how you feel... you're responsible for more than yourself now." She tilted her head toward the sound of his screeching child.

"Pocket the fucking cash and go get Melody."

You got in your car without another word the headlights casting him in an accusatory light for all of the stars above to see... he felt like the heavens were glaring down at him for shutting out the answer to his prayers. He couldn't see you over the shine of the low beams but he could hear a choked sob rip through the steel doors and windows. The last thing you said to him rattled between his ears as he turned and went inside. He dusted off his pants with his calloused hands in a futile attempt to rid himself of the dirty feeling that settled over him like dust. He leaned over the sink and watched as a tear slid down the tip of his nose and rippled in the dishwater of a baby bottle you had used to feed Mel earlier in the evening. As he turned on the water and waiting for it to get warm he made the mistake of looking up.

Staring back at him the little pink Post-it sagged in the window, the steam from below causing it to detach and drift dismally down into the water where your sweet message morphed into a convoluted mess of black ink until it faded into nothingness and the paper split apart in the sink... Melody cried the microwave beeped to remind him that a homemade meal was getting cold...

*..it hurts this bad because you know it's wrong*

He carried himself down the hall past the night light in the bathroom and gathered Melody in his arms tucking her into his chest just like you did. He tried to re-tuck her swaddle but it wasn't as uniform as yours... he rocked her and bounced her he tried everything he knew but she still cried... he walked with her out into the hall, where he was once again crushed by a memory that took him out like a rouge wave. As the soft glow from your night light seeped onto the scratchy carpet of the hall he was reminded of the night he came home to you and Mel sleeping up against the door frame... You had tried everything to soothe her just as he had now... yet she still cried... you were exhausted but you sat with her on the floor under the light until she slept... you told him you were waiting for him to get home to move because you didn't want to walk into the dark alone... Another tear stung his raw skin, as he slid down the door frame under the nightlight...cradling his daughter in his undeserving hands. As the reality dawned on him that not only did he make you cry tonight... but he pushed you into the dark alone.

[b-ritney]

Star-Shaped Night Light

Dumb-ass single dad mechanic Eddie x fem! reader ANGST

Warnings: Trials of single parenthood, talks of Eddie's past with his parents nothing violent, Eddie being dumb, cussing...

Pre-reading: This idea came to me after reading a few other single dad stories, I will try to find them and add them to a tag list here but I was definitely inspired by other writers... that being said all my ideas are original and I made sure I didn't come to close to anyone else's work bc that's stealing duh but yes this story was inspired through other very talented writers.

Story Summary: Eddie's childhood friend stuck by his side through thick and thin. How does he choose to repay her? He pushes her away.

2.4k words

I tried to proofread there are prob still typos

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The thud of his heavy boots clunked at a sleepy cadence as he trudged up the steps for the evening. Just as he does every day, he spent his entire car ride home contemplating what he did to deserve the girl sitting at home with his child that isn't hers.

The gentle, caring girl who put her life on hold to help his sorry ass raise a child...that's not hers...yet she loves that baby as if she grew it in her own belly.

He opened the door quietly and shut the door even quieter predicting correctly his daughter was asleep. As he stood there with his back to the door, turning his wrist until the deadbolt latched he caught a whiff of her perfume from her jacket hanging on the wall next to him... she's worn the same one since high school, it took him back to the day he met her...it made his chest ache with fondness. It also made him sick... because his love for her was criminally selfish... his biggest regret is that the baby you were rocking in the nursery wasn't yours... which sounds insane...but if he could go back and do it differently he would have listened to you and been careful. He would have waited until he could have seen you through your dreams and achievements and then put a ring on your finger. He would have done it different... he would have done it right... he knows what you would say if you could hear his thoughts...

You'd say something incredible like, "Eddie, there is no right way to do this. Sure there are more sustainable... or historically accepted ways of doing life but you are doing just fine and I'll always be here." Fuck. It made him want to cry. He untied his boots and slipped out of them, and shrugged off his old jacket... he stepped lightly into the kitchen and pushed the straps of his overalls off his shoulders to reveal his mostly clean white t-shirt. He twisted the knob on the sink and let the water run over his fingers until it was warm... a post-it note on the window caught his eye and broke his heart,

*Ed, there's a plate for you in the microwave, I'm in the back rocking Mel. Hope you had a good day. :)*

The water scalded his hand snapping him out of his teary-eyed stare at the little luminescent pink piece of paper stuck to the window, and the fucking ridiculously undeserved thoughtful actions attached to the message that made his stomach twist into knots.

He diligently washed his hands and padded them off with the dish towel. Then quietly made his way to check on you... he passed the open door of the hall bathroom that was illuminated by the little star night light you brought from your house the second time you spent the night at his trailer... that's when he found out that out of all things you were afraid of the dark...and even though you sprinted like a track racer through his home you still let him sleep through the night and comforted his baby when she cried into the early hours of the morning...

He was already just holding on by a thread when he reached the nursery door, but when he heard you singing to the baby that wasn't yours he trembled. He leaned back on the opposite wall and looked down at the space between the floor and the bedroom door, where the most beautiful sound floated into the dimly lit hall, he crossed his arms over his chest as if to block his heart from hearing the sound... to keep himself from loving you more than he already did... and held the knuckles of his left hand to his chapped lips as if to think for the first time in his life before he did something as fucking stupid as he was about to do. He mouthed the words with you... it's the same song you gifted him the day he found out Melody's mother was pregnant... you apparently had been looking for him all afternoon after he went MIA... he was working a graveyard shift and you showed up in your pj's and brought him food just to sit in the garage and keep him company while he took advantage of your kindness and talked your ear off about his problems until 3 o'clock in the morning. You stayed with him until you convinced his stubborn ass to go home and sleep on it; so he could make good decisions about his next steps. Before you walked away you handed him a small rectangular package wrapped in shimmery paper left over from Christmas two months prior. "...Ed..." you sighed trying to think of what to say, "I won't lie to you and say I understand what this is like... but... I'll do what I can to help." you scratched your head and smiled sympathetically, "call me tomorrow so I know you're alright." With that, you handed him the gift and got in your car leaving him rigid in the chill of that early February morning... he slid into the driver seat of the van and tore open the package... a mix tape.. scribbled with blue pen across the label:

Take It Easy :) love, y/n

He swiped a tear from under his tired eyes as you hummed the higher-pitched notes so as to continue soothing his child...

"Well, I'm running down the road trying to loosen my load Got a world of trouble on my mind Lookin' for a lover who won't blow my cover She's so hard to find"

He let out a shuddered breath as he pushed off the wall slowly turning the nob. You were curled up in the corner in Wayne's old rocking chair, cradling Melody in a perfectly wrapped swaddle you had practiced for a week just to help him figure it out. You smiled up at him when he walked in, effectively making him pre-regret everything before it even happened. You whispered for him to help you out of the rocking chair so you could lay the baby in her cradle. He scampered over and tilted the chair forward supporting your back with his free arm as you swayed your hips to keep his kid in a constant state of comfort. "Night Mel, Love you baby girl," you whispered kissing his baby on the head lightly. Eddie followed suit before following you out into the kitchen. You were already warming up his dinner when he caught up to you...

"How was she?" he asked trying like hell to keep down the bile in the back of his throat.

"Perfect as always," you said leaning against the kitchen counter, "How was work?"

He could feel sweat dripping down his neck, "Good, good..." he took a steadying breath and bit the bullet like the reckless idiot he always was... "Listen can we talk?"

"Uh oh," you laughed quietly, he was about to blindside you, and it made him feel shittier than anything he's ever done. He motioned for you to follow him out front with his shoulder he grabbed your jacket and keys from the tray. He slid the jacket up your arms.. the same arms that have been protecting his baby since the moment she was dumped into his care six months ago. Once the door was shut he tried to hide his watery eyes and trembling hands behind a cigarette.

"Eddie? What's going on?" your big emerald eyes bore into his soul.

"I don't want you to take this... the wrong way... because I appreciate everything you've done for me.. more than I'll ever be able to express..." He took a long pause leaving you in more agony than he could fathom.

"Eddie...?" so many questions lingered in the one word... what did I do wrong?, how can I fix it? The answer is a gut-punching nothing absolutely fucking nothing... he's just a coward.

"There's no... non-dick-headed way for me to say this but... I don't think you and Melody need to be around each other anymore." "Eddie...?" What the fuck are you talking about? Please don't take her from me. What did I do? What changed? After everything I've done for you...

"You aren't her mother y/n."

A fat tear rolled down her cheek. Jesus Christ... It dawns on him in this terrible moment that this is the first time he's ever seen her cry... and it's his fault.

"I've loved that child more than her real mom ever did. What is this about?" She clutched at the frayed ends of her old jacket for some sense of comfort. The once pleasant May breeze suddenly felt frigid against her damp cheeks.

"She's gonna think- she's gonna think she's yours... and that we are together... I'm just trying to get ahead of the inevitable, I just don't want to put her through that... this isn't what I want her to remember when she gets older."

He knew he royally fucked up when he manned up enough to look up from the floor. Your face was turning purple from holding back whatever emotions were running through your tired mind.

"You don't want her to remember that despite the way everything looks she has people around her that love her more than anything...?" Your sneakers dug into the gravel at your feet as if to beg the earth for some stability.

"I just- don't want her getting attached."

"Children have nannies Ed.... and fuck you. I've given up over a year of my life to get you through this..." From inside the belly of the trailer, Melody whimpered and whined until she began to wail. You stood frozen in the driveway, Eddie looked right back... he watched the way your muscles fired to go toward the sound, the way your blunt nails dug into your palms with nerves... what really fucked him up is the way you clutched your chest... the same way you were rocking Mel only fifteen minutes before the rug was snatched from beneath your feet.

You patted the empty spot on your chest where his baby has slept many nights, what was once a warm comforting spot now felt hollow. "Fucking look at me you prick... it hurts this bad because you know it's wrong... and I don't think it's Melody you're actually worried about "getting attached"." You sucked in a hurried breath... "I love that little girl Eddie." Your voice tapered off into a whispered high-pitched whine as you tried to hold back your own river of tears. "I've stood by you through everything...and you are telling me you don't want your child to remember someone who loves YOU and HER unconditionally...? Eddie, I've backed you up through a lot of fucked up shit but this has got to be the worst."

"You can't tell me you don't understand where I'm coming from..."

"Oh I do... trust me I do... your mom ran off because of your dad, your dad was a deadbeat...but your uncle took you in because damn him if anything happened to that little curly-headed mess of a boy.... he isn't your dad Eddie and I've never seen a person love as deeply as Wayne... Funny how you forget so quickly that I've known you for so long..."

He was silent... what could he say.. he knew before he opened his mouth this was wrong. Nothing he could piece together in his mind sounded right so he just accepted it, "Let me give you some cash for your trouble."

She huffed dumbfounded, "I don't want your fucking money. I want to be a part of her life I want to be a part of your life... but you're pushing me away because you are scared of me... you're scared of this," she pointed her finger upward and made an irritated circular motion, "you always run when the going gets tough Eddie... but despite how you feel... you're responsible for more than yourself now." She tilted her head toward the sound of his screeching child.

"Pocket the fucking cash and go get Melody."

You got in your car without another word the headlights casting him in an accusatory light for all of the stars above to see... he felt like the heavens were glaring down at him for shutting out the answer to his prayers. He couldn't see you over the shine of the low beams but he could hear a choked sob rip through the steel doors and windows. The last thing you said to him rattled between his ears as he turned and went inside. He dusted off his pants with his calloused hands in a futile attempt to rid himself of the dirty feeling that settled over him like dust. He leaned over the sink and watched as a tear slid down the tip of his nose and rippled in the dishwater of a baby bottle you had used to feed Mel earlier in the evening. As he turned on the water and waited for it to get warm he made the mistake of looking up.

Staring back at him the little pink Post-it sagged in the window, the steam from below causing it to detach and drift dismally down into the water where your sweet message morphed into a convoluted mess of black ink until it faded into nothingness and the paper split apart in the sink... Melody cried the microwave beeped to remind him that a homemade meal was getting cold...

*..it hurts this bad because you know it's wrong*

He carried himself down the hall past the night light in the bathroom and gathered Melody in his arms tucking her into his chest just like you did. He tried to re-tuck her swaddle but it wasn't as uniform as yours... he rocked her and bounced her he tried everything he knew but she still cried... he walked with her out into the hall, where he was once again crushed by a memory that took him out like a rouge wave. As the soft glow from your night light seeped onto the scratchy carpet of the hall he was reminded of the night he came home to you and Mel sleeping up against the door frame... You had tried everything to soothe her just as he had now... yet she still cried... you were exhausted but you sat with her on the floor under the light until she slept... you told him you were waiting for him to get home to move because you didn't want to walk into the dark alone... Another tear stung his raw skin, as he slid down the door frame under the nightlight...cradling his daughter in his undeserving hands. As the reality dawned on him that not only did he make you cry tonight... but he pushed you into the dark alone.

#stranger things #eddie x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #angst #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson au #corroded coffin #stranger things au #stranger things 4 #eddie munson st4

[b-ritney]

I cried I cried I cried and I loved it

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶What happens when Eddie tries to hide the less-than-fun side of being a single parent from you, and you discover Miss Mouse can't always save the day?✶

NSFW — angst with a happy ending, reader wears eddie's hoodie, comfort, kissing, 18+ overall for smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 11/19 [wc: 14.2k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11

AO3

Chapter 11: In the Beginning...

——Then——

In the beginning…

It was January 31st, 1988, and Wayne had come in to check on him again. And maybe he had a reason to when Eddie continued to stare at the pockmarked ceiling, dressed in the same clothes as three days prior, laying on the same bedsheets last washed by well-meaning, pre-aged, liver-spotted, wrinkled hands gnarled from factory work after being tanned on a big rig’s steering wheel for decades.

No music played from the stereo record player; The Doors still sat with the album art turned, stopped mid-spin. The paperback on the nightstand remained unfinished, its dog-eared page trapped as a placeholder from New Year’s Eve. Dust and cigarette ash clung to the room as if saving it in a time capsule of the morning he was arrested, and any movement would disturb the illusion.

“Eddie?” Wayne called out to him with his Free name; one that shouldn’t hold a stigma, because Eddie was a free man, wasn’t he? He was innocent. Even if they hadn’t caught the other guy yet. “You okay if I go?”

Tracing the bumpy lines of the most recent tattoo on his stomach, he answered, “Yeah, I’m fine,” and his uncle breathed as he usually did when he was wringing his mouth with indecision.

Wayne twisted the doorknob, uncertain. “If you’re sure.. And, uh, I’ll stop by the hardware store and pick up somethin’ for the spray paint on the trailer if the cookin’ oil trick doesn’t work, don’t you worry about it.”

Whatever rude thing someone wrote this time, Eddie hadn’t gone outside in days to know.

After a long silence, Wayne cleared his throat and gave a gruff, “I’ll see ya after work,” and left, as foretold by his rackety truck fading further into the night, and the deadness of winter taking over. A staleness of midnight inactivity in the crisp air invading the guitars and amps and magazines Eddie never touched anymore; the ceramic of his bedside lamp, the model car next to his lighter, the binders stacked on his desk with a pencil he hadn’t sharpened since it broke six weeks ago. He didn't get much relief from his routine of ignoring, shutting down, isolating, and desperately trying to get tears to form when he had none left to give, so he wept agape and dry, spiraling downward.

The phone rang.

He wasn’t going to answer—he hadn’t since December unless under obligation—but in case it was Wayne, he did.

“Hello?” The other end of the line was equally hesitant to answer his unrecognizable voice, gone hoarse from disuse. “Hello?” he repeated.

“Eddie?” A beat. “I guess I’ll get this over with. Look, uh, do you remember selling to a girl at Brad’s party a couple months back? Not the Halloween one,” they said, definitely a young woman’s voice, but with each word spoken she lost her fluttery nervous edge and replaced it with a direct tone, leaving no time for him to dawdle.

He hurled his mind into searching his memories before the ones made in the weeks prior, only grazing past the details which haunted him, and registering the question he was asked. “Uh, yeah, yeah I think so. Ah, Sarah? Something generic like that. Sold to her a couple times before. Why?”

Her severe silence loaded the chamber. His forthcoming nature pulled the trigger, never learning when to shut his mouth and keep information to himself. There was no telling who he was speaking to, or what happened to the girl he sold to, or why he was the subject of interest. His stomach clenched in knots at the whiff of gunpowder. He was too relaxed at the prospect of a normal conversation. He said too much. It was happening again. The police sirens would wail any minute now. Whatever happened to Sarah—or whoever—was bad, and he incriminated himself. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.

But it was her next words that fired the shot. Rang in his ears. And he knew then, as the cold sweat took over his body and bile stung his throat quicker than his heart leapt black spots to his vision, life as he knew it was over.

“I’m pregnant, and it’s yours.”

————

In the beginning…

It was March 7th, 1988, and Eddie walked out.

It was better than listening to Wayne blame himself for not doing enough, or being involved enough, or whateverthefuck he was saying about failing Eddie, because soon those judgments would turn into nags about how Eddie’s irresponsibility got himself into this mess, and those arguments would become shouting matches about his lack of preparedness for raising a baby, and Eddie would end the fight with his fist through the hallway closet door, where his piece of shit father’s jacket swung on the hanger and fell to the floor.

Following the Munson name.

————

In the beginning…

It was April 29th, 1988, and Eddie left his motel room to drive forty-five minutes outside of Hawkins to sit across from a woman in a dimly lit restaurant with her hand laid atop her round belly, and his cold chicken alfredo. The cheese in his oval shaped dish had coagulated, but he wasn’t hungry anyway.

The entire time his mouth ran sentences, he kept his gaze focused on a crumb dirtying the white tablecloth as the candle flickered shadows through their untouched water glasses. Yet, his tone remained animated and optimistic, though a bit hollow. “—So, uh, with the money from workin’ at the gas station, and what I have saved from that graveyard shift I picked up at the laundromat, I can afford the crib no problem. Maybe you could, ah, come with me to pick it out! I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be looking for, but whatever you want, you got it. And—And I’ll start stocking up on diapers, and stuff. Y’know, different sizes. Some clothes. Could even get a nice baby blanket, or somethin’. I guess cribs have those teeny mattresses, so we’ll need sheets for that, too. Um, one of those, y’know, things that hangs over it and spins, puts them to sleep.” His lips hinted at his first smile in weeks at his dumb explanation for a mobile. “And with your job, you have health insurance, don’t you? That’ll.. That’ll really help us out,” he emphasized by bugging his eyes, and nodding. “There’s a position open at an auto shop in town that I’m gonna apply for, but I don’t think insurance will kick in until I work there for a certain number of days. Sucks, but it’s decent money. Better than what I make now, anyway. Um..” Thinking, he sorted through his plan for the future in his head, making sure he didn’t forget anything important—

That’s when he made the mistake of looking up, and a different type of heartache wrung his chest.

Indifference powdered her shimmery beige eyelids, darkening to smoky apathy at the outer corners with a touch of heavy mascara weighing her eyes half-closed. She appeared bored—he wished she appeared bored—but in the eternity he glanced at her, she resembled a loaded chamber moments from cutting him off.

Continuing, he said, “I can also handle the small stuff like bottles, and bibs, and pacifiers. Depending on how much the crib is, I can probably swing the carseat too, just gotta sell my other guitar, and—”

“Eddie,” she stated. He winced.

There was no trace of his smile left on his lips; trembling and licking at the sore metallic-tasting spot he bit out of habit. The first sign of rejection welled behind his eyes. A sense of shame clogged his throat, but he tried, “Are people still bothering you about me?” he asked, so meek and defeated.

Her words were a merciless killing, “Does it matter?” He shrugged, running the side of his hand along the table’s edge, concentrating on the crumb. “And don’t bother buying anything.”

“Why not?” he faltered. “I’m not gonna be some deadbeat who doesn’t provide, okay? I’m good on my word.”

“You know why.”

The cruelty, the truth he denied, struck him.

“You don’t want to try?” His voice went watery, and the candles swam in his vision. “We’re having a baby together, and you don’t want to try and work something out between us?” There was a reason he avoided addressing where the crib would go, or what the arrangement was after coming home from the hospital. In the first few calls they had, she seemed interested when he rattled off the list of cheap apartments he found around Hawkins scribbled into his notebook, and when he lightened the bleak mood with a joke, she laughed, sort of.

Though, he was always the one to call her, and her answers were refined to short words such as yeah, or no. And she did pick up the phone less often, but she was busy with University or her career or there was a family thing that had come up or she was just headed out the door, so he stuck with planning their future by himself, aware of the ugly reality twisting his stomach with dread.

Maybe he was being naive, but he thought she’d come around by now. See how responsible he was being, and maybe.. maybe..

“I’m not interested,” she dismissed him in monotonously stern frankness.

“I thought you said you liked me,” he reminded her, on the verge of something pathetic, “at the party.”

The corner of her jaw twitched from an emotion she ground between her teeth.

That was the final straw.

She swung her gaze around the restaurant, releasing a hard sigh of frustration, and shaking her head. Dropping her hand to the bottom of her belly, she leaned forward, and eviscerated any hope he had for them being together. “I’m not interested,” she hissed under the susurration of nearby tables, “in raising a baby with someone whose reputation is for giving girls discounts when they flirt with him.”

Eddie shrunk into himself, not expecting the hit below the belt.

“You’re just the loser dealer that all the guys send their girls to because they know you’re too lonely to turn them down. I wish I stuck with flirting, because let me tell you, having a couple of smarties to get me through last semester wasn’t fucking worth it.” She motioned at her stomach, he assumed. “I almost missed my finals because I couldn’t stop puking.”

Fat drops wobbled his vision. Anxious sweat from holding his breath prickled his hot face. His knuckles hurt from clacking them against one another, punching bone-on-bone in his lap to distract himself from letting the venom win. Biting impressions of his teeth into tongue from the weight of his one chance at normalcy slipping through his fingers.

The ache of deep-seated rejection stung worse, built worse, escalated worse with every heartbeat echoing in his head: not even someone who’s having your kid wants to be with you.

Chairs skid across the tiles behind him, and a family stood to leave. Eddie faced the stained glass window as they passed, pretending to admire the intricate details while warm tears spilled over the dam, and onto his cheeks in steady drops like rain. Drip, drop, drip, drop..

Embarrassment, failure, freak..

Even before he was wrongfully arrested, his reputation was trash.

Pathetic loser not good enough for his dad, his uncle. Can’t pass fucking high school, or get a girl to stick around for more than a few weeks; just long enough to feel the safety of attachment, learn their likes and dislikes, what their favorite flowers were, and then they’d leave too..

“Doesn’t matter,” she exhaled. One, two—she took two calming breaths through her nose while his was running, and he was trying to not sniffle through the grossness of crying.

Composed and diplomatic, she sat up, smoothed the buttons of her burgundy maternity blouse stretched across her swollen middle, and informed him “I’m giving her up for adoption.”

Eddie froze.

Her.

Tiny tines of salad forks ceased clinking on plates. Silly dull knives unworthy of much else sank into whipped butter, and stopped. Pretty laughter faded, leaving red lipstick kisses staining the rims of wine glasses.

Her.

He froze. A strange cliche to explain how his body reacted. How his heart pounded, and tears splashed onto his clenched fists. How his brain latched onto one word, one word only, and the blood drained from his cheeks to pool liquid rage in his empty belly. How his temper surged like a wave, and crashed, again and again on the shore of fate. How he was thinking sharper, seeing clearer, smelling the raw flame of the candle being snuffed out from his sudden movement.

The tableware rattled when he planted his elbow next to his forgotten dinner, and pointed a stern finger at her stomach. “That’s my daughter, and you will not—”

“C’mon, Ed—”

“No,” he cut her off. He didn’t give a damn if another tear rolled from his wide eyes when he said it, he put conviction behind his voice even when it cracked, “That’s my daughter, and you are not giving her up for adoption.”

“Be serious,” she spat back. “You don’t have the means to take care of a baby. I’m doing this as a favor for the both of us. Mostly for you.”

Eddie sucked his bottom lip inward and chewed the flesh. Shivers of indignation trembled his body, and his nostrils flared from the absolute power he invoked to rein his voice from the snap, bite, snarl his upper lip suggested. “I don’t care what you think is best,” he maintained through the viscous tar coating his refusal in the abhorrence she deserved. “That baby.. She’s mine.” He nodded until the motion was ingrained, and her expression changed. Pointing to himself, now. “She’s mine, and I want her.”

There wasn’t much thought put behind his decision. It was done. It was innate. It was automatic, and her soft warning—”You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,”—was as heeded as the candle’s flame.

He paid for the date. It cost five hours of his minimum wage. That was all his money. He was hungry when he got back to his shitty motel; opening the door to darkness, and a suitcase of dirty clothes he’d need to sort before going to work at the gas station at the edge of town where his boss cut his hours last week because it was making customers uncomfortable to see a criminal serve them at the till, and a new sound replaced the ding of the cash register: loser, loser, loser..

Already, he couldn’t afford diapers.

Already, he failed.

Already, he was worthless.

Already, he was alone.

Not even the woman he was having a baby with wanted to be with him.

——Now——

Eddie hung up the phone, and you watched his shoulders rise and fall for long moments, listening to the rain pattern shift above. The storm spilled its sorrows on the tin roof, uncaring if the structure could handle the stress of another trial when it was weak and susceptible. It poured, and poured. Ruthless. Vicious and brutal as nature could be, targeting the vulnerable and strong alike.

His back broadened with a breath, and finally, he dropped his hand from the yellowed plastic, staring at the dial pad as his arm went limp at his side. Absorbed by his thoughts as the old night rolled into another low growl of thunder, and whatever was on his mind reflected heavily in his vacant appearance.

“Ed?” You waited for him with a kind lift to your brows, but as soon as his glance landed, your chest tightened.

The emotion in Eddie’s eyes was heavily guarded, communicating little as to what caused the tenseness in his jaw when he averted his gaze to the floor, walking fast and purposefully away from you standing half-dressed in his kitchen, and stopping at the front door with his head down. Going through the motions of buttoning his pants, and buckling his belt, rigid and rough, snapping the leather against itself.

“Is Adrie okay?” you asked, voice coming out painfully shallow, like when you were using it to diffuse a customer service issue with the breeze of happiness and a plastered smile.

Leaned over, he shoved his feet into his boots, and began lacing. “She’s fine.”

Blunt, and closed off. Not like your Eddie from an hour ago. And you didn’t know how to navigate asking him what was wrong, and easing him into opening up to you, coaxing him back to that place of union and understanding.

Left feeling confused, you gleaned that this wasn’t the time to bother him about it, and mumbled, “Okay,” and assumed the rest. You dragged the whispery ends of the blanket across the floor, and picked your sweater off the carpet, having that particular sense of embarrassment as if you’d missed a cue, and should’ve read the room sooner, and been clothed and leaving without him asking.

You dressed in silence, doing up the buttons on the cardigan he so skillfully slipped you out of. Treading over linoleum to wash the evening off your hands and mouth. Making yourself small to fit next to him in the entryway, and putting on your shoes in a state of quiet obedience, missing the warmth of his hands and the comfort of his lovesick grin. Wilting under the coldness of his attitude, and wanting nothing more than to reach out, and soothe that bit of regret knotted between his eyebrows.

He regarded the exposed skin of your upper chest, and handed you his black hoodie from where it hung next to his canvas work jacket. “Here.”

Here wasn’t much of a break in the distance he resurrected between you, but you pulled the heavy scent of cigarettes and cologne over your head, and he almost found himself braving eye contact to tell you, “I’m dropping you off first.”

“What? No,” you blurted, “I’m going with you to pick her up. She’s just scared of thunderstorms, right? No big deal, you can drop me off after.” Which seemed like the right thing to say; that you were fine with Adrie crying, but when he set his gaze on you, a small image of yourself swam in his endless pupils, and your stomach clenched at the animal warning in his unbreakable stare.

Eddie shook his head an imperceptible amount, only enough to loosen the curtain of curls tucked beneath his jacket’s collar, and shift the lamp’s glare at the edge of his bitter coffee eyes. It was a threat to back off. Leave well enough alone. Stop encroaching on the parts of his life he hid, and keep the illusion intact.

“I wanna go,” you assured gently.

However, your support fell short when challenged against the aggressive shine swallowing you whole. He looked at you. Really looked at you with the same intensity as when his hands were on your hips and you rocked yourself in his lap, chests flush together with a lazy prayer of your name on his tongue; when nothing mattered more than honoring each other with lips and teeth, tasting sweat on necks and sucking bruises until moans were spilled from heads thrown back. But instead of unraveling you in shocks of pleasure, the ignorance of your child-free lifestyle softened the harsh lines of his face, and slowly, slowly, the shine dulled. The fight left him.

He saved his apology until his back was turned, and the squeaky doorknob gave under his heavy palm—turning it with too much force—and he cracked open the world beyond the two of you, dousing the lingering tenderness of your affection on his skin with frigid mist. “Sorry tonight ended this way.” The door banged open on the rusted iron handrail, caught on a gust.

The trailer park was bright with daylight. Flash, after flash.

Eddie’s silhouette eclipsed the doorway, outlined in lightning. He stood impossibly taller—like the animal threat still lurked within his structure, and caution stayed within your subconscious, altering how you perceived his lanky frame into something more imposing. His shoulders carried many burdens, bulked from five years of hard labor, possessing strengths you couldn’t imagine. He stepped to the side, insisting the door stay open with the spread of five fingers only, and his body no longer shielded you. You were exposed to the cold splash of rain on your shins. His palm was firm at your lower back, and you peered up at the hard set of his jaw feathering the muscle at the corner, sweeping the bone in a mature edge of stubble. Strands of his frizzy hair whipped in the wind. Droplets speckled his nose like freckles. His gaze, anchored on his car through the downpour, brewed with resentment.

His deep timber resonated in your chest beneath the safety of his hoodie, “Car door’s open, I’ll lock up behind you.”

And you were pushed.

Beaten down to a hunch, you took careful strides in your heeled shoes down the concrete steps and into the soft mud, covering your head as best you could from the cloud’s assault, and flinching at the closeness of the strikes darting around the boundary of treetops surrounding the trailer park. You tried the handle, and the car welcomed you into its dry insides. Guilt followed your tracks of caked on mud, leaves, and dead weeds on his nice red interior, but when you shivered to the bone, you didn’t care as much. Curled in on yourself, you spied Eddie’s vague shape through the waterfall blurring the windshield, and listened to his heavy boots trudge up to the door, and soon, the car sank with his weight too.

The engine roared to life. Heat wouldn’t come from the tiny AC units for some time, but the promise of such gave you hope. Eddie, beside you, drenched beyond measure, did not match your enthusiasm. Shadowed streams snaked across his pinched expression, swimming down his heavy brow, and splitting his raw lips. His bangs stuck to his forehead, and his cheeks trembled from his clacking teeth.

Soft music played from the radio station.

Riders on the Storm.

Two booms of thunder ended your small attempt at a smile from the timing.

Leftover adrenaline pulsed in your veins, fumbling your grip on the seatbelt. Wet earth and unease stroked your skin like skeletal hands, muddying your tights, and soaking his hoodie, weighing it down to your crushed sweater beneath. You wanted to speak; to poke, to prod, to press him to talk to you. The questions were there. On your tongue. At the ready; inviting him to tell you why his mood soured over a situation out of his control, other than the obvious weather.

But Eddie’s face was carved with irritation, baring his teeth as he attempted to buff circles into the icy fog on the windshield, only for it to cloud over in an instant. “C’mon..”

The wipers couldn’t keep up with the powerful current, and the tires struggled to find traction. “Fucking—damnit,” he said, interrupted by him slapping the steering wheel, cascading water off his work jacket, and onto every surface around him.

You twisted your hands in your lap at his mild slip in temper.

Now was not the time to bother him.

In a lurch, your shoulder bumped the door, and your head rocked side to side from the car backing over the swell of mud behind the tires. With another frustrated stomp on the gas, it evened out on paved road, and though the visibility was low, you were off towards the nicer side of Hawkins.

For once, he drove responsibly. Street signs could be read before he passed them. Fallen limbs in the road could be avoided, not ran over. His rings tinked off the glass when he rubbed at the thin fog, and the music was dialed to a somber ambiance behind the deep sighs through his nose. Dark stretches of treetops bent to the wind’s will. Short buildings sat so dim beyond the faint streetlights, they might as well have been deserted. Each red light was a necessary break for him to shove his fingers in the air vents to thaw them.

He never spoke. Never looked at you. He kept himself busy with tasks, and when those tasks were over and his hands were defrosted and the windshield was mostly clear, he regressed within himself. Unnervingly quiet. Turning onto streets with heavier regrets sagging his features the longer he crawled in front of white picket fence houses, and stopped.

The two story home was lit beautifully by the ornate sconces placed on either side of the doorway. Their lawn was manicured, and the sidewalk was free of weeds. No cars were at the mercy of the storm, they were parked inside the two-door garages. There was activity behind the embossed curtains hung in the living room of the residence. Presumably, the biggest shape was the father who called over the phone.

Someone who wore a business suit to the preschool’s Thanksgiving play lived here.

Eddie stalled. He remained seated forward, hands gripped at 10 and 2, squeezing the steering wheel as rain echoed in the belly of the car, battering the roof inches above your damp hair. There was a pause in his movements, his breathing. An awareness in his silence at the questions you didn’t ask. Tension in his pursed lips, rubbing them together as he surveyed the street.

He opened his mouth. Then, he thought better of it, and got out.

Your earnest call of his name was swallowed by the sea cleansing his body of your night together.

Leaping up the bullnose brick stairs, Eddie raised his hand, but before he could knock, the artisanal stained glass shimmered with movement. The immaculate door opened to a winced face. The man’s glasses were askew on his aged eyes, and his peppered hair hung over his eyebrows, no longer gelled back. He exchanged a few tight words with Eddie as Adrie was handed over, and Eddie, of course, shuffled into a meek posture, dipping his head, apologizing profusely. Almost bowing to this man dressed in matching pajamas and a robe. In horror, you watched the door close during one such apology. You could tell it happened in the middle of him speaking, because you had to sit through the agony of Eddie animatedly explaining something only for him to look up, straighten at the realization, and stand there for a few more seconds until the sconces dimmed off.

Worse, still, he cowered in the nook as cruel rain belted his back, doing his best to bundle Adrie in her tattered quilt and securing her on his hip, keeping all of her dry except her little legs wrapped around his middle. She buried her face in his neck, and he hesitated on the balls of his feet, judging the distance between the house and the car. His large palm covered the blanket over her head. All he had was his jacket.

Lightning revealed his weary frown.

At the clap of thunder, he sprinted.

Back in New York, at the going away party your friends threw in your and Robin’s honor, they warned you about moving to the Tornado Alley, and what to look for if one were to appear—green skies and all—but most importantly, they told you an incoming tornado sounded like a train. Being city dwellers, they wouldn’t actually know, but Robin confirmed it. And now you could too, because the piercing wail coming towards you could only belong to a natural disaster, not a four-year-old girl.

Murky water flooded to Eddie’s ankles from where it rushed against the sidewalk, sloshing in with his boot stomped to the floorboard for balance as he ducked inside amidst the fuss. He got Adrie into her carseat as quickly as possible. In the chaos, her overnight backpack fell somewhere in the dark, her quilt was chucked aside, and he cursed when the buckle bit into his thumb. She had a fistful of his hair, tangling it, making it harder to see what he was doing. He may have even threatened her full name to let go. It was hard to hear on account of the shrieking.

“Daddy!” The vowels were elongated, broken by hiccups. He shut the door, and in the small space with no escape, her big emotions rang louder. “Daddy!” Again, the y was screamed with the full power of her lungs, which would be impressive for their tiny size if it wasn’t for the pounding in your skull. She hollered louder when he sat heavily behind the wheel, “Daddy!” He didn’t shush her fourth tantrum spilt on his name; he accepted it, knowing it was futile.

It took all your strength to blink. Sat half-turned in your seat, frozen, gaze unfocused, marveling at your brain’s ability to function. You shifted your attention to Eddie’s face, a surprising few inches from yours.

The heat of his concentration scorched shame to your cheeks.

Avoidant no longer, your reaction to Adrie’s meltdown was the sole subject of his interest. Zeroed in on, dissected, and picked apart by just his eyes alone. Didn’t matter which eye you shied from, you were pinned in both, your discomfort blatant for him to witness. Your clamped mouth, your apologetic withdrawal, your fidgety fingers on your skirt; all of it. All of it was captured in his periphery because he didn’t dare break sight as he turned the key in the ignition, and started a raucous engine you couldn’t remember being turned off.

Humbled by the girl assaulting your senses, your questions were answered.

This was why he didn’t want you to come. This was why he slighted you with a pointed look from the recesses of his annoyance when you trivialized his daughter’s behavior as ‘No big deal.’ This was why he kept you separate from his parental sphere where everything wasn’t made of sunshine and rainbows. This—coming to terms with your inexperience staining each uncontrollable contortion of your unprepared expression—was why he never let anyone near his heart.

Adrie could no longer form his name through her open-mouthed cries, resorting to plain, wet screams which trilled past your eardrums, resulting in a throbbing headache.

At that, he grasped the gear shift, put his boot to the gas, and cut fat lines through the river overflowing the pampered neighborhood streets.

Eddie’s anger was a presence. His embarrassment, too. Just like at the auto shop when problems stacked and stacked into an unbearable weight on top of his sleepless nights and long mornings, he turned inward to delay his outburst. To feel everything so fully in his fists wringing the leather covered steering wheel until it creaked, and teeth gritted until they begged no more. Just that one second to release his frustration, and then it was suppressed from sight. But you felt it. His ire rested below your braced muscles, beneath your clammy palms and in your shallow breath. It invaded the tidy home you kept behind your ribs, taking up residence in your hammering heart.

The humiliation of having the date end when it did paid its dues in his bad mood. Disappointment radiated off his narrowed eyes, and slack frown. “Adrie,” he warned in a low tone.

She bawled louder, shriller than the crack of lightning.

The immense pressure to adapt was upon you. There was no sense in parsing what he expected you to do in this situation, it was clear he was soured by your ineptitude the moment you let it show on your face, but.. Only two short weeks ago, he relied on you to divert Adrie’s meltdown before DND night. And sure, she had already stopped crying by the time you got there, but you could come to his rescue again, couldn’t you?

You twisted around in your seat, proud of yourself for thinking of a solution, and showed him you could handle a modicum of parenthood. “Adrie, look!” you tamped down your children’s television host voice to a delightful, excited cheer, “I’m here. Miss Mouse is—!” Shocked with your hand reaching towards her, shooting pain traveled up your arm from her swift kick to your wrist. You recoiled, rubbing at your forearm without blame. It wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t even looking at you. Her fit was directed at the window she couldn’t peel her attention from, dropping tear after tear from her swollen eyes at the thunder shaking the car. “Adrie?” you tried softer, but she beat her hands on the carseat harder. Wailed until you were defeated to a wince. Yelled until you accepted a unique heartbreak you weren’t prepared for.

Miss Mouse couldn’t always save the day.

Acute twists of rejection wrung your chest. Eddie wasn’t the type to say I told you so, he wasn’t mean like that, but when you sat forward and your gazes moved past one another, never quite meeting, you knew what he was thinking.

Little else stung worse than his obvious cynicism at how this date was concluding.

Exacerbating the issue, Adrie escalated to screeching her distress. Every open sob of hers pulled your focus, invaded your brainspace, overpowered any thought before it began, and set your teeth on edge from the high-pitched squeals you swore vibrated in your bones. Her behavior seeped into your nerves, winding them up, scratching them with the very tip of a brittle nail, inciting a riot. The need to flee crawled under your skin. Breathing was uncomfortable. Your ankle hurt. There was to break in between the blinding pulses of your headache. The car was too hot, too cold, too swerving from the high winds buffeting it sideways. Your tights were too tight. His hoodie too stifling. Itchy yarn from your sweater chafed your damp neck. Alarms of panic battled inside. Louder, louder, louder—Adrie cried louder. Eddie’s lips tugged down at the corners, chin wrinkled, tensing his face from a sadder response. Your lashes fluttered from the chokehold his frown had on you. Fingernails bit your palms. You tried to bide your time, to resist snapping. Dug down deep for something, something you could do, something.. innate. Some answer within you to fix it all. To get her to stop. To get him to relax. Something, something, something—instinctual.

“Pull over!” you barked; Eddie had every right to whip his head around at your sudden demand, but in your panicked state you only cared about the road ahead. “Ju-Just—just—” You scanned the dark parking lot outside the hardware store, and stabbed your finger on the cold window, pointing past it. “The gas station! Under the roof-thing.”

When it wasn’t clear he heard you, you turned towards him at the same time he leaned forward to catch your eye. Justifiable skepticism burdened his brow, tightening the edges of his crow’s feet. His lips hung parted with a confirmation hesitating between them; however, it was silenced after you maintained your need, and the fight against the wind won.

Soppy pebbles scraped wet asphalt, muddied in the bump and grind from Eddie turning too sharply into the sloped driveway, banging into a pothole, and rattling the innards of his already rocky cargo. He careened towards the closed convenience store with its row of dim fluorescent lights inside. Pulling up alongside the gas pumps, he slammed the breaks. A second later, he slapped the windshield wipers OFF, violently shushing their grating squeak.

His patience strained thinner. Working through the sensory overload festering like infected wounds on blistered skin, he rumbled a shallow apology past his aching teeth. Quickly, it devolved into a barrage of doubt. “Look, I’m sorry she—Wait, where’re you—?” The instant fear of rejection shot past his octave. “Wait! Please don’t—”

Cruelly, he thought; heartlessly, he knew; the sun-faded black cotton draped about your shoulders was the last image his adrenaline latched onto, playing it over, and over, door slam and all. He wasn’t parked for more than a clock tick, and you hurled yourself out into the storm, leaving him behind. His first assumption was gentle. Kind whispers stroked the angst in his chest, telling him you needed a break from the noise, that was all. Then the hatred of abandonment gutted his center.

“Giving up already?” he asked aloud in a conclusion only meant to hurt himself when no one was there to answer.

As if sensing his hopelessness, Adrie sniffled into the worst of her hyperventilated cries. Broken disjointed things. Sinking him deeper, deeper into his seat, crossing his arms over his caved chest, shuddering at the hot sting wobbling his vision at his own inadequacy.

Never good enough for anyone to stay.

Tremors of repressed memories wakened the churn of nausea making him sick.

“Baby, baby, it’s okay,” soothed a voice behind him, trickling in with the splash of faraway drops. “It’s okay, sweet baby, I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

Eddie jerked his chin up and stretched his neck to see into the rearview mirror. The wall of water teetering on his lash line made everything blur, so he tugged down the slick skin beneath his eyes to suck back the tears, and almost allowed them to spill at the scene behind him anyway.

In the reflection, you crawled across the backseat and unbuckled Adrie’s carseat, learning how to maneuver the straps from watching him. She reached for you, your hair, your clothes; small fists belying their strength. You didn’t care. You calmed her struggles with pretty words. “It’s okay, yeah, you can hold on to me, baby. Let’s get you wrapped up nice and warm. There we go.” Shhh. “Let me see your face, so I can clean you up.” Shhh.

“M–M-Mizz Mou—se,” Adrie got out between body-wracked sobs.

“Mhm, I’m here.” Shhh. “Miss Mouse is here.”

—Oh.

“Baby..” So modest was his whisper when so resolute was his yearn.

He leapt into motion, flushed with adrenaline.

The ripple effect of your actions caused tidal waves to swell and crash over him; body hitched in the place where his past convinced him he lost it all, only to collapse into a stuttered exhale of acceptance, understanding there was someone out there who cared about him to this degree; throat constricting with gratitude he could only express by stumbling out into the foggy cold, throwing open the door, and sliding into the backseat with you.

His fingers grazed the baby hairs at your nape on their way to the side of your head, using his wide palm which took up too much room to cradle you steady with a gentleness unknown to his tough skin. He trusted you to forgive him for how hard he knocked his forehead to your temple, and smashed his nose to the soft of your cheek. He need not worry. Beautifully, you adjusted to the bulky arm behind your neck, leaned into the crook of his body he hollowed out for you, and filled the familiar place at his side. You worked diligently to clear his daughter’s face while he passed a strong hand over her back and dropped it to shape his grip at the end of your thigh, curving his fingers in and slotting them to the underside, behind your knee.

“S’okay, Adrie,” you cooed, wiping at the sticky grossness clinging to her nose. “I’ve got you,” you continued the mantra, albeit with a lapse in motherly tenderness as a result of trying not to gag too hard.

Outside the car, the gas station’s tall canopy provided enough coverage to stop the rain from pounding the roof. Harsh winds howled past, encouraging the woeful sobs dropped onto your breasts, but the lightning stayed within the clouds, and the thunder faded in the distance. “Look at me,” you guided, sweeping the hoodie’s cuff over her puffy cheeks glowing splotchy red from the neon beer signs in the postered up convenience store windows. “We’ve got you. Nothing bad can happen when we’re here.”

Eddie lips pulled thin against your skin, breath stuttering damp and thick on your neck like a smothered cry.

“Nothing bad can happen when we’re here, okay?” Repeating the union of you and him, you went on, “We’ve got you. You’re safe with us. Nothing bad can happen when we’re here. Right, sweet bean?” You tucked the quilt around her feet, and held her close. “We won’t let anything bad happen to you, ever.”

With her hands latched into the folds of fabric around your neck—cotton, yarn, and canvas—her big coughs were cushioned by your arms snuggling her to your front while Eddie’s chest was at her back, embracing her between your two bodies converging to protect her in a toasty nest. Warm air hummed from the vents, shooing off the stale chill clinging to the backseat, now disturbed by activity and plucky guitar strings playing over the radio.

Across the Universe.

Undertaking the complexities of the man rubbing his forehead into your hair with the same sort of neediness as his little girl wringing your clothes, you assumed the responsibility of consoling them both. “Nothings gonna change my world,” you mumbled the lyrics into the patchwork quilt covering Adrie’s curls. “Nothings gonna change my world,” you sang to Eddie, face tipped up and eyes falling closed, seeking out his nose to trace the tip of yours along the soft bumps in a devoted offering after the turbulent events causing you both inner strife.

His fingertips became an imposing force spread across the scope of your cheek, turning you toward him, capturing you in a deeper kiss than you were ready for. It was demanding, hard with desperation, misaligned and urgent. Born out of necessity in the moment. He kissed you in front of his daughter, where she could see if she picked her face up from your chest, and a dart of surprise lit your heart at the recklessness. You kept a level hand atop her head in case he’d come to regret the decision, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care. He sighed into a second helping, and at the sound of the wet smack, she stirred.

Adrienne hooked her fingers into your collar and sniffled hard, soothing herself from further cries by hugging you tight, huddling into your comfort, oblivious to what was happening around her.

Easily, you fell into the third kiss. Became what he needed, mouths mashing together at the odd angle, your lower lip plush between his. Dizzying amounts of reverence manifested in his spontaneity. He packed a lifetime’s worth of bottled up feelings into the affection he was privileged to. Giving, and taking. But his impulses were still a puzzle. When he’d drank his fill, he squeezed your leg, broke apart from your lips in a silent slick slide, and drew a deserved breath.

“Sorry, no one’s ever just.. done that for me before.” He shrugged his hand off your thigh at the poor summary of the millions of things on his mind, and left it at that.

Spurred by the praise, you seized the opportunity for communication. “Remember how before we played DND that night, I told you to call me first next time you needed help?” you reminded him, and something vulnerable, maybe even pleadful, entered your tone. “I want to be someone you can rely on, Eddie.”

An unfortunate amount of complicated emotions passed in his eyes. There wasn’t much to garner from them, nor his soft grunt when he dropped his nose to the column of your neck, above Adrie’s head, and regressed into his quiet self. Reserved. Hard to decipher. He did speak up once to warn you she would fall asleep with how you were holding her—same as he did most nights on the couch while Late Night with David Letterman aired—and you embellished your promise to him with a kiss to the stringy curls frizzing at his scalp, “That’s okay.”

And it was okay, truly, when the storm raged heaves of rain against the car, spraying the windows with shocks of water. You dabbed Adrie’s cheeks. Wiped her nose. Rocked her in the same tempo as the backs of Eddie’s fingers stroking your cheekbone, flexed bicep behind your neck. Thunder occurred. Lightning happened. But with your quick thinking, lulling gestures, and genuine effort to speak past the fondness clogging your throat, you calmed her. Calmed her so well, in fact, her hands went limp and her body relaxed, fatigue claiming her victim to the numbered sheep hopping over fences in her dreams. After her tantrums, she was taxed out. Drained.

Stuck in the cramped middle between Eddie and the carseat, you rearranged your legs before they went tingly numb from her weight on your lap, and shifted the pressure off your heels. It was sweet having her fall asleep on you. Her slow breaths filled your arms as a reward for your efforts to hush her. The quilt smelled of their home, cozying itself in your lungs and sweeping you in a sense of longing for the humidity in his kitchen after making soup.

Though, as much as you thrived on the temporary role you played as parent—taking over for Eddie and dwelling on the fact Adrie slept propped on your chest like the many times she napped on his stained coveralls—you could do without the additional pain of him leaning on you too.

You groaned at the sharp twinge in your spine from slouching sideways, and conveniently, your movement roused his consciousness. He launched into a sleepy inhale. Robust, filling his lungs to the brim, too loud, too silly and sweet. He primed you for a solid press of the bridge of his nose to your jaw by thumbing you towards him, after which he pulled away, separating himself from you fully.

Eddie rolled his shoulders, stretching out from the uncomfortable position, and faced the window. He commented in a sincere tone, “You’re good with kids.”

“I know how to entertain kids,” you corrected him. “I don’t know how to do any of the hard shit you do.”

The streetlights painted strokes of dotted orange on his complexion cast in shadow. He played with the tips of his fingers, squishing each one in a line as he ruminated, staring elsewhere, perspiration blurring the outerworld, sealing yourselves in this crowded car together. “You do a good job,” he reassured, petering out in a hoarse whisper.

Ceaseless nerves gnawed at his absent-minded ring spinning. Not a big production like when he wrung his hands or bit his nails, but enough to show he was getting anxious. You’d expected his leg to be bouncing by now, but it was laying softly against yours. Something big was on his mind.

You bumped your knee into his. “Talk to me.”

Talk to me. Yes, you asked the world of him. You knew it, too. Encouraging his gaze to flick to Adrie bundled in your arms, and back to the window. His eyes weren’t wide with fear, just larger than normal at the subtle confrontation. It was time he opened up to you. There wasn’t a concrete ultimatum if he didn’t, but there was a mutual understanding that if this were to continue, he needed to trust you to be there for him. No more reluctance.

He extended his hand towards your knee, patting twice before claiming it in the great breadth of his palm, stroking his thumb over the thin pantyhose; bridging the gap from his earlier behavior, but not yet apologizing for the soreness he caused.

Sorting his thoughts, his throat bobbed twice on the swallow.

And of all the questions he could ask, of all things he could say, of all the topics he could choose, he picked, “Did you ever want kids?”

Heat swam to your cheeks, blood rushed to your ears. Buds of true belonging bloomed at the question, adorning stems of untended longing first planted during the Christmas party at work, ever growing. Your heart pumped faster at the inherent past and implied future of the subject. His curiosity was a mild prod, perhaps not meant to encourage these leaps in logic considering he announced it in the same buckled cadence of someone who was asking about the weather—and yet, the hold it had on you was impossible to deny. A blend of you, Adrie, and him, just like now, but in different contexts—different meanings other than sitting in the back of his car—something domestic, like being piled together on the couch watching Disney movies; that’s what was pushed to the forefront of your mind.

But, despite those instantaneous fantasies, this was a place for honesty, and the significance of your pause between his question and yours was an entity of its own, stiff like his posture.

“Are you ready for this conversation?” you checked. He fostered an anxious glance and nod. “Having kids is not something I ever saw for myself, no.”  The consequence of your answer marked his immediate dropped eye contact, but ever patient with him, you continued strongly, “With how I dated and moved around, I didn’t think it was for me, that sort of lifestyle. It’s just not something I put a lot of thought into except when my friends were having kids, and really, they kinda turned me off of the idea. Pregnancy sounds.. daunting. Or—you know—really fucking scary. They’d always talk about how awful it is, all the complications you could have, the risks, the near death experience in one case,” you broke off in a squirm. “And then you don’t even get the relief once the baby comes. Like, seriously, taking care of a newborn sounds straight up terrifying.”

Eddie cracked. His hiss of laughter was a welcomed reprieve, especially when it sank to his chest, gripping his shoulders in a hearty shake. “Y-Yeah,” he got out, face crinkled in all the ways you adored, “it is straight up terrifying.”

You giggled in the softest way, careful to not disturb Adrie’s shallow breaths, and careful to not swoon too head-over-heels over the image of him rocking a baby. “It seems easier when they’re older, though,” you said, broaching the real crux of the conversation with your chin dipped to the top of her head. “Like it’s not as bad when they can actually communicate why they’re crying, or tell you what’s bothering them.”

“Not necessarily easier, just different,” he clarified. “It’s less about making sure this little tiny thing that can choke on its own snot survives the night, and more about the emotionally draining problems like her telling you about her day at preschool, explaining a situation where a group of kids kept giving her tasks to do that sent her away, and she’s smiling so big when she’s telling you, thinking it was a game, but deep down you’re just waiting for the heartbreak years down the line when she realizes they gave her errands to run because they were excluding her, and the reason they were laughing every time she came back was because they took joy in being mean to her.”

Wilt tinted your faint, “Oh..”

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He upped the pressure he used to pat and rub your knee. “S’part of life.”

Consumed by his side profile, you studied the scope of his impassive expression set on the premature lines edging his face. The urge to find the right thing to say amidst the convoluted churn of anger on his behalf, and sadness on Adrie’s, itched something fierce beneath your skin. Ultimately, no words of inspiration came.

Eddie took an anticipatory breath.

The radio garbled advertisements for the station’s sponsors.

“Still wouldn’t trade it for those first months when she was a newborn, though.” Pursing his mouth thin, he rolled his lips inward with a hardened brow, releasing and scrunching tension around his nose as he shook his head slowly, addressing the memories of those days with a shine of pain to his eyes, and a loud smack of his tongue. “The moment I found out Adrie’s mom was pregnant, I wanted to do the right thing—y’know?” He took his hand off your leg to demonstrate the narrow path he followed. “Kept my head down, stayed focused, didn’t bother anybody, got a real job, and kept my mouth shut. Lotta places didn’t wanna hire me, obviously, but I applied anywhere I could, and when I got the job, I’d go get another one on a different shift, and another one on a graveyard shift. Sold whatever I had—guitars, ‘nd shit—bought what I could with the money. I wanted to be a good man. Be a provider. Be worth something.” Scrubbing his shaky fingers over the stubble on his chin, he aimed to calm himself, but when bringing up the Hell he went through during those times, there was little to stop his pitch from wavering. “Still wasn’t good enough.”

A verdict aimed at him flippantly, yet the impact on his self-esteem was immeasurable.

Gathering himself, he licked the inside of his cheek, and explained, “In the beginning, when Adrie was born, I tried to make it on my own. Locked in this little motel room with a crying baby. Couldn’t go to work. Didn’t have anyone to call to watch her for me, y’know, didn’t.. didn’t have anyone to rely on after walking out on my uncle, and isolating myself from my friends. The people at the bullshit resource center said I wasn’t eligible for benefits because they were for single moms, not dads. And child support was taking too long to kick in. Not like it mattered when it couldn’t pay for a single canister of Similac. I didn’t have fucking anything. Or know anything.”

His shame was only beginning to unravel.

“There were these free classes at a clinic for expecting parents, but I..” He dropped his knuckles to his thigh and fed them along the coarse cotton, using the friction to burn away the guilt. “I-I didn’t go. I didn’t want to go alone. Be the only guy there, by myself. Have all these people w-who might know who I am fucking.. fucking staring at me.” With how he was looking down at his lap, rocking slightly with his movement, he stood no chance against the wall of tears damming at his lashes. “I didn’t want to go because of my sense of pride, and my baby suffered because of it.”

“Eddie, that’s not true—” you stepped in.

Three effective beats of his fist on his leg, and you were left to witness his face crumple from the utter contempt he had for himself.

“It is true,” his volume fluctuated in jumps. “She wouldn’t eat. She wouldn’t fucking eat and keep it down.” Droplets splashed his jeans in unyielding splats. Drip, drop, drip, drop.. They slipped and spread in splotches of salty remorse he couldn’t wipe away quick enough. “Nothing worked. Couldn’t get her to latch onto a bottle, and, and—I didn’t know, I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to microwave the formula, but she wouldn’t take it room temp, so if it was too hot she’d just scream at me until it wasn’t, and I–I just—I was having these breakdowns, I don’t know. I blacked out, and next thing I knew, I was at Harrington’s, and Nancy was taking care of her for me.” The emphasis alluded to much, though the fact their son was only a year older, and Nancy would still be producing milk said it all. 

Frantic breaths which wouldn’t catch were pulled past grimaced lips parted on the unrefined sob his confession emerged on. “I never wanted to be with Adrie’s mom, but proving what she said was right, th-that I was a fucking loser who didn’t know what he was doing, it-it-it.” In a desperate flourish, he pointed at his temple, It lives in here, and another tear clung to the tip of his nose, smeared by the back of his wrist.

Stunned useless by the suffocating urge to help him, you blanked. Sat still while your favorite mechanic reduced himself to the wrong opinion of others; the same person who showed his gentle nature by picking worms out of the garage after a heavy rain so they didn’t dry out. Remaining frozen while silent pain wracked your friend’s held breath, heaved and shuddered out as a cough into the same palm he used to catch your ankle when he challenged you to a race on the creepers, and he had to cheat to win before you beat him to the service door. Saying, “Baby, no,” to the man who snuck a smirk over his daughter’s head when he caught you doting over her as she sat on his hip, and the smell of Christmas potluck embedded itself into the memory of Eddie’s eyes hinting at a deeper glint than the tease on his grin.

“I am a fucking failure,” he seeped out his regret. “C-Couldn’t give her what she needed. I still can’t. Still can’t give her what she wants, ever. T-T-Tellin’ her I can’t get her something when she asks for it—and the disappointment. Just a piece of shit who disappoints her. Never good enough—” There was another high-pitched stutter, but it was muffled behind his trembling hands covering his face, and smothered by your intervention.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you shot out, hand and voice working together to untangle the trauma his knotted fingers attempted to hide. “Listen to me.” No please, but no lack of kindness, either. “You are not a disappointment. Not then, not now, not ever. Do you hear me? You’re not any of those things.” You tugged at the canvas jacket around his stiff arms tucked tight to his body, and rocked him away from his huddle against the door.

In the aftermath of your scramble to comfort him, Adrienne startled awake. Her soft hmm? became a grunty whine when the sensation of slipping backwards disoriented her. “Daddy?” One of her fists found your hoodie for balance, but her groggy curiosity dealt a heartbreaking blow.

She traced the wet trail on his cheek, encountered a tear in its path, and broke the droplet’s surface tension on her finger, wondering aloud, “Why’s Daddy crying?”

Thinking quickly, you used your muscles earned through unloading car parts from delivery trucks, and scooped her from your lap onto his, diverting the nuance of grown-up-problems by fumbling out, “Daddies cry sometimes, too. Have you told him you love him today? Can you tell him? It’ll make him feel better. Please, Miss Adrie?” Whether or not it was the perfect phrasing wasn’t important. What mattered was the unsuspecting gratitude laden at the base of his frown.

“I love you, Daddy,” Adrie said, latching her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

“You’re a good man,” you added, and rolled onto your hip, fitting your body to his side. You nosed through his long, frazzly curls, and spoke earnestly, but softly into his ear, “You’re a good man, Eddie. Look at how well you take care of her. Look at how well fed, clothed, and happy she is. You make her so happy.. You make me happy, too. You’re the best dad I’ve ever met. No one else compares.”

He dragged a sniffle from his last sob into an unintelligible mumble.

“I’m here.” Shh. “I’m here.” You included Adrie in your hug as you brought your hand up to the other side of his flustered hot face, blending your fingers through the hair stuck to the sweat and stubble on his jaw. “We’re here for you. We’ve got you. Nothing bad can happen when we’re here.” Sweet with conviction, “It’s okay, handsome, I’ve got you.”

Overwhelmed by the small I love you, Daddy, on one side, followed by You’re a good man, on the other, his inhale shivered, and he cuddled Adrie to him for a watery, “I love you, too.” Croaky and real, and mouth agape on an ugly cry he let you witness until his needy reach cupped the back of your head, and smushed you to his wet cheek, scratching the same sentiment into your nape, just like you were rubbing it into his scalp, exchanging the affection without words.

Us and Them funneled through the car, mellowing the heightened emotions with its dreamy saxophone opener.

“I’m so glad to have met you,” you prized in tender sweeps of whispers and thumbs. “I actually look forward to coming into work because of you, even when you hide my pen cup, and tickle me when I go to reach for it on top of the Coke machine. Which is unfair, by the way.”

“Yeah?” he asked for dear reassurance, and distraction.

Humming against the intimate corner of his jaw, you nudged the prickly scruff, and melted into his uncoordinated pets over your ear. “I see your sacrifices, and trust me, Eddie, you’re doing a great job at raising your daughter. Stuff like buying her toys, or cookies, or whatever doesn’t matter. The love you show her is better than any of that. She’s so lucky to have you.”

Another tear dropped to the tattered quilt. Another, another dropped. He squeezed his eyes shut and more fell. Hindered breaths let go in stuttered huffs shook his chest, swayed his damp hair. You circled your thumb over the rivers on his sensitive skin, and found a dry section of your sleeve to clean the price he paid for being a good father without the proper support he needed. Soothing him with fond shushes and feather touches. Forming a ball of comfort around him: cramped in the tiny car, a cast of solid fog on the windows for privacy, Adrie’s blanket draped about your jumbled legs, and her lanky arms wrapped around his neck where precious words were stoked from the embers of a fire which he built. “I wanna color with you to-mah-rrow,” she pronounced. “You can have the dinosaur book, because I want the kitty cats. Deal?” Deal, he nodded.

Your bottom lip introduced a blessing at his sideburn, “You deserve to see yourself how we see you.”

Recovering from the unbearable throb his stuffed sinuses drove to his headache, he tried—“Thank you, baby,”—though the letters were mashed together, and further pulped by the thickness in his throat. Loud, however, was his hug. Crushing you both to him with honed strength; flexed forearms demonstrating the power lying dormant in the track of muscle he snaked around your waist. Groans were earned from his expertise. Bones protested the gesture, begging to be released. It took several seconds of your heartbeat pumping visibly at the edge of your vision, but he let go. Afterall, there was no praise to be had by flattened lungs.

“That hurt,” Adrie complained.

“Ow,” you agreed.

“Sorry,” he said in non-apology.

At a change in tone, you fawned, “But that was a nice hug.”

Adrie rated it, “An 8 out of 10.”

Crowded together, the bond was unmatched. His arms were spread like a greedy dragon hoarding its wealth. Chest open, collecting his most remarkable treasures to the roaring furnace locked within the confines of his body, ready to share the warmth to those who could appreciate its value. Clasped in your hand was Adrie’s ankle, gaining squirmy kicks for each smile and giggle traded under Eddie’s chin. Dressed in his well-loved hoodie, the crook of his elbow fit to your figure, and the backs of his fingers strummed your bicep in a trained motion. None of it was perfect, no. The hoodie could smell less like cigarettes, his forearm stuffed behind you meant you couldn’t recline comfortably, and when he patted your hip, he awakened the dull throb of the bruising grip he left during earlier events.

Those weren’t bad things, though. They were as real as human flaws. Accepted as such, too.

“Are you feeling better?”

Sporting a grin favoring one cheek more than the other, Eddie’s eyes were framed by clumped together lashes after being stripped to his barest self and given the grace he needed. “Yeah,” he answered Adrie in fondness, “I’m feeling better now.” Not forever. He wasn’t cured. But with time, he guided his gaze to the velcro shoe you were wiggling back and forth onto her heel, and climbed his soft study up to the plump concentration on your bottom lip after you released it from between your teeth.

Perceiving his attention, you clocked him with a sneaky grin. “We’re a sardine family.” Brightening at the bewildered noise he made, you tapped Adrie’s knee, and imparted your wisdom as if he should know it too. “Yeah, you know, you, me, and Adrie. Jammed packed back here like a tin of sardines. All squished together.”

They blinked at you. You blinked back.

“And I thought I was supposed to be the one with bad jokes,” Eddie offered after some thought. You cut him a look. “But I like the image,” he amended.

“I like sardines,” Adrie chimed. She didn’t know what sardines were, but you appreciated her enthusiasm.

The conversation waned from there. Drowsiness from the old night seeped into your collective huddle, slouching you all towards one another. Heavy limbs went boneless. Tender brushes of thumbs came to an end. The sound of deep breaths were heard between the local ads for Indiana’s finest antique mall and an uptick in the rain smacking the paved street. Near the edge of sleep, you convinced yourself to get Adrie up and into her carseat. Eddie sat back and watched you go through the steps of buckling her in, listening to her plea for Fluff in her backpack, tucking the quilt around her just right, and hitting your head on the roof in pursuit of making her happy. Taking care of his kid. You collapsed beside him, far closer than would be proper for coworkers, and basked in his approval, noting the pride in his charged gaze. The emotional rollercoaster of the evening took its toll on his swollen face—nevertheless, romance novels could learn a thing or two from the way his stare rendered you weak.

“Should get you home before the storm gets worse,” he warned in an attractive thrum of sternness. He might call you lil’ lady next. Or remind you he promised your father he’d have you back on time.

Floating in the fizzy pool of your crush's attention, you nodded your dizzy head, and observed without need, “Yeah, should get home before it gets worse.”

He laughed. You swam in his laugh, in the instinctual desire based in his mood after watching someone nurture his young. A silly thing to rock you into a sultry sweat considering the outcome of your second date. Luckily, when you stepped out of the car, the frigid mist stole your focus, hosing you down and keeping you from reading too much into the odd chemical imbalance that must be happening in your brain.

The night was really fucking long.

Driving with the radio on low, Eddie drifted his ringed fingers over your forearm whenever they weren’t being used on the stick shift. A small gesture letting you know he was thinking about you when there wasn’t anything to talk about, not that it was needed. The calm was nice. The storm behaved en route to the Buckley’s, avoiding the occasional tree limb blocking a lane. He removed his touch from your person, and with a glance, you were assured it wasn’t the last.

“You didn’t have to walk me to my door,” you gasped, posing with your arms stuck out, useless against mother nature sagging your soaked clothes.

A puddle formed on the wood planks where he wrung his hair. “And make you do this run all by yourself? C’mon, sweet stuff. I’m a gentleman.”

Shivering on the covered porch, your shoes were partially to blame for the slipping incident(s) in the muddy driveway. The lack of the house lights on was another, slowing down your sprint into a crawl. A yellow cast from a lamp in the back room lit the hallway, but other than its soft glow, that was it. Clearly, no one expected you to come home.

“Is it okay if, uh,” you began, “Is it okay if we kiss in front of Adrie?” Oh, how your awkward pointing from yourself to the car came to a charming halt, fingers caught in the stiff fabric of his jacket, under his spell.

Plush pink lips warmed by vented heat promised your worries away.

“I think she’s asleep anyway.” His voice was playful, tugging syllables in the way his lopsided grin ought. “But,” he softened, “yeah, we can kiss in front of her.”

The permission washed over you. Weeks and months in the making. Brewing tension under the surface in your daily interactions—and now? You kissed him. Just for fun, just to show off. You kissed him again. Gentle, pretty brushes. Tame, refined, and for the sake of exploring the lack of boundary before saying goodbye.

Working man arms defined your waist.

Fingers calloused from gripping pens grazed his steady throat.

He swallowed, and spoke endearments with his busy mouth, “Could kiss you all day, baby.” Your lips kicked into a smile which he devoured, kiss after kiss. Neat little things. Virtues, maybe.

“Could’ve kissed me since the day we met,” you answered, feeling the squeeze around your back when his belly pressed you into his embrace. Though, his dismissive snort caused you to frown. “I’m serious. Coulda had me back then. Or at least you could’ve kissed me when we were slow dancing in the garage, or standing under the mistletoe at the Christmas party. Like, seriously, way to make me feel rejected.”

His wide passionate eyes shared common ground with his genuine smirk at your feigned agony. “Excuse you, but I am not having our first kiss be at work.”

“Then why not at DND when everyone left?”

“Because, sweetheart,“ his cadence loved those two words most of all, “I knew I only had a few minutes with you. And I needed a helluva lot more than a few minutes with you.”

“Or, what about when—”

Crazy how you strove to be silenced by his mouth. Craved it like no other, provoking him into eager unions, fulfilling the itch and providing the scratch with your bottom lip between his, just how he liked.

You shifted. Your inner thighs rubbed through your ripped tights. The untimely circumstances bringing you to Robin’s door lived on the surface of your chilly skin; ushering you to reality, and he as well.

“I’m sorry for how all this turned out.” Eddie’s sincere apology pitched his voice to something sorrowful, something deeper, and maybe you underestimated how much the night ending when it did upset him as a man.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”

He shuffled his stance, scraping his boots in dissatisfaction. “Baby, you didn’t even get anything,” and you knew what he meant. And it annoyed you he’d even brought it up.

Combing your fingers up from his nape through his hair, you drove him into you, chasing the molten ooze pooling at your center in effort to shut him up. Wet, hard, nipping kisses at his plump lips until they were raw like his tear-stained cheeks. You forwent air. Mouths melding as one, then apart as two, then one, then a set of awake eyes boring into his drunk ones. “Our date was perfect. We needed this.” The trust, the experience, the uncomfortable glimpse into his life and how you handled it. His breakdown, his shame, his face when he finally let go and ugly cried in front of you. “I don’t regret how our night turned out.”

Nodding into a nudge of his nose stroking the side of yours, he was honest with himself, “I don’t regret it, either.”

“Well, you might regret it in the next half-hour if this storm keeps up, and you’re stranded with Adrie in the car because a tree fell across the road.”

“Shit.” Indeed, the weather was turning again. If luck were on his side, he could deal with the high winds and sheets of rain until he got home, but, more likely, he drained his luck over the course of the date, and lightning was about to start again.

Eyeing the sky with hesitance, he asked, “Can I call you tomorrow? Or—today?”

“I’d be upset if you didn’t.” Acting as an endorsement to get going before things worsened, thick forest branches creaked in the distance, popping like warnings. You followed it with snappier affections doled between your palms fitted to his jaw. “Please be safe, Eddie.”

“I will, I will. Kay?” Urgency swept him from kiss to kiss—needy, and intense, treating them as the last. “I adore you, baby. Tell me you adore me.”

Mushy under his tender affirmations, your body went pliant and he accepted your weighty lean on his chest, making it harder than it already was for him to leave his sweetheart behind. “—dore you too, handsome,” you moaned into his mouth, sending him off on a proper goodbye.

“Jesus Christ, woman.”

Ever the lovestruck fool, he stayed rooted on the porch watching your figure move from shadow to light within the home, eyes glued to sways and curves as you met the hallway and bent to peep inside Robin’s room. It was the single lamp being turned off which broke his greedy gaze, and ended his fun. Oh well. His Monday morning was booked with penciled in meetings for his admiration and your assets.

Eddie spun on his heel and stopped stalling. He didn’t bother throwing his arms over his head, he accepted his fate, and ran. Sloshing through puddles, slipping in mud. He wrenched open the door, and fell inside the car. The heater made him sticky warm in the gross way, so he turned it down, and got comfortable behind the wheel, adjusting, adjusting.

Pulling oxygen into his outkissed lungs, he heaved a solid breath, and sank into his seat, unable to comprehend the recent events carving out a new path for him to consider where there wasn’t one before.

——Then——

In the beginning…

Summer died to autumn, and it was time to move on from Steve's. Eddie tried to make it on his own in the motel room over the three day weekend break from work, but his wallet was empty, his baby was dressed in another family's blue sailboat onesie, and come Tuesday morning at 7AM, he needed someone to watch Adrie who wasn't an overworked Nancy Harrington.

Infant in hand, pride left behind in his boyhood, Eddie knocked on his uncle's door, and in Wayne's usual manner, he answered by clearing his throat when neither words nor greetings failed to repair the strained relationship.

“Can I live with you?”

Taking in the marks of fatigue under his nephew's averted eyes, Wayne said, “Of course, son,” and welcomed him inside with a swung gesture.

The walk to the single bedroom humbled what spirit Eddie had remaining. Or, crushed what was left of it. He passed by the kitchen table which still had his chair cocked out, noticed the patched-up hole in the closet door, and flicked on the lightswitch, grazing the curled edge of a poster he hung over a decade ago. His stomach sank at the familiarity.

Blazed by the ornate lamp hung in the corner, standing out like a behemoth beside his white desk, was the crib he was never able to afford.

Adrie grunted awake in her carseat. Looking down at her would spill his tears, so he cranked his head back to stare at the ceiling, steeling himself after spotting the new bedsheets stretched across his mattress, and he knew—he knew—if he turned around, the pullout bed in the living room would still be set up.

His uncle never took his room back.

Defeated by the routine pang of worthlessness, impressed to have any self-esteem left to be stolen from him at the point, Eddie sank to his childhood mattress with his three-month-old daughter at his feet, undressed himself from his boots, and made a clear spot for them both on the bed, away from blankets or pillows. He laid on his side, legs crossed and knees bent with an arm beneath his head. Same position he assumed on the motel’s carpeted floor yesterday when Adrie experienced a milestone: rolling over. Not from her back to her stomach, she wasn’t coordinated enough for that yet, but with enough powerful kicks and wiggling, his paranoia coaxed his other arm around her.

He molded himself to be her protector. Chest sunken on a shallow breath, forearm spooned to her side closest to the edge, and gaze trained on her chubby cheek. Her babbly noise of happiness brought him a sense of reward, and though the newborn smell had faded in the weeks where motor oil stung his nostrils, he put his nose to the top of her head for a whiff of a sweet scent that wasn’t there, and felt the peace it brought him anyway.

Wayne shuffled into the room with a sizable stack of chunky hardcover books between his hands. “I, uh, checked these out from the library. Been doin’ some readin’ while you were gone.” He set them down on the bedside table, and pointed at a few of them. “Learned a lot from the one on the bottom, but they were all, ah, educational, I s’pose.. Some lean more religious than others,” he grumbled. “But, uhm..”

The expectant pause in his uncle’s speech drew Eddie’s awareness.

“Can I hold her?” Wayne asked.

“Yeah.” He almost had the strength to clear the rasp from his throat. “You can hold her.”

Putting his new knowledge to good use, Wayne first worked his palm under Adrie’s head before scooping her into his folded arms. Eddie took his shame in small doses, glancing at his uncle meeting his grandchild for the first time, and looking away when he cooed over her. Three months and his only family member had yet to meet his baby. Three months spent avoiding this trailer, and depriving his uncle from making these memories.

Self-loathing boiled under Eddie’s skin, and still, there was a fleeting desire to brag about Adrie’s neck strength, and how it wasn’t so necessary to be wary of her head falling back.

But he stayed quiet. He pushed his overgrown bangs out of his eyes, and read the book’s titles, wondering what sparked enough interest for Wayne to stuff receipts between the pages, or mark them with paper clips if they were particularly interesting.

Speaking in his gruff smoker’s voice with an edge of seldom heard unease, Wayne introduced a conversation, “I read in that yellow book there that babies shouldn’t sleep in the same bed as the parent. Dangerous, with how tired you are, ‘nd all. Should I put her in the crib?”

As gingerly and delicately as one could be when discussing the reality of a child suffocating to a parent who was well aware of the risks, Eddie regarded him with an annoyed expression, and Wayne shut his mouth in apology.

“I’ve gotta do her night routine again, so I’ll be up for a bit.”

“Yep.” A solid statement, and conclusion, to the conversation.

Bending down, Wayne positioned Adrie in the hollow Eddie created for her, and mentioned there were leftovers in the fridge on his way out. He shut the door behind him. It didn’t take long for tiny fists and tinier fingers to find a lock of his hair, and pull it into a drooly mouth. Didn’t take long, either, for his exhaustion to kick in and for the emotions to crash through his walls.

Tears slipped sideways along his features. Cresting over the bridge of his nose, colliding with his other eye, and joining the wetness at his hairline, dotting the bedsheet. He pressed his face to his baby who was too innocent for this world. “Daddy loves you,” he whispered, tasting the word for the first time. Daddy. It didn’t feel right when Steve stepped in as a father figure, but he could acknowledge it now. He was a dad. A momentous occasion followed by, “I’m so sorry you’re mine.” An apology uttered on a wet hiccup—borderline unintelligible—but after coming back to this trailer, and enduring his memories trapped between its thin walls, he promised, words slurring to a constricted squeak in his throat, “Daddy’s gonna get us a nice house, okay? Your own room. Your own bed. Daddy’s gonna do it. Just give me some time, okay? I’ll do it, I swear. Daddy loves you so much. So fucking much.” The promises bred dread even then, living in the pit of his stomach as future disappointments, knowing he would fail.

Perhaps sensing his distress, his little girl used the last of her energy to kick his arm in a fair warning before her face scrunched, and the wet coughs preluding her wail for food began.

He dried his face on the bedsheet. In this moment, it was hard to continue crying when he had another human relying on him. It was time to move on. Time to bury the pain, and move on. Time to neglect himself, and move on. Time to give up, and move on. Kiss her chubby cheeks so fucking much he feared he’d never be able to stop, and move on.

——Now——

Now, he checked the rearview mirror and Adrie was looking back at him, possessing a curious pinch between her brows at his reflection.

“You were kissing Miss Mouse,” she accused and questioned.

“I was,” he confirmed.

“What does that mean?”

“It means, ah,” he filled the pause with another ah while he searched, “It means we’ll be seeing more of each other. She’ll be coming around more, and stuff. Hanging out with us.”

Ever ponderous, ever candid, ever blunt, she asked, “Does that mean she’s my–”

Crazy Little Thing Called Love blasted their eardrums.

Eddie’s fingers slipped over the volume dial by accident—totally by accident—as he reached for the stick shift, turning the music on high and drowning out the last word of her sentence.

—Mom.

No way in hell was he ready for that conversation after the emotionally grueling night he’d had.

“Whoops,” he pretended, “Sorry, couldn’t hear you—but, uh! Hey, do you wanna start our bedtime story early? Should I go with the princess one, or the Sesame Street gang running their own bakery? Hmm.." He drew out his hum until he was in the clear of the Buckley's mailbox, swearing he wasn't the reason it was laying flat in a ditch. "How about we pick up where the princess one left off? So! The firbolgs have declared alliances with Toadstool Kingdom, and.." Throwing it into first gear, Eddie raced home as quickly, but responsibly, as possible, talking non-stop. His parched throat begged for a drink by the time he pulled into the trailer park—a scratchy pain made worse by his nervous chatter in the elusive quiet of his parked car.

He wrapped Adrie in her quilt as best he could while securing her on his hip and booked it through the rain, unlocking the front door and ducking inside right as an unlucky flash of lightning came.

And when nature’s nightlight died, he blinked and blinked at the spots in his vision.

It was unfathomably dark in his living room.

Stumbling over a small shoe in his way, he patted the wall for the lightswitch, and flipped it. And flipped it again. And harassed it some more. Sighing heavily in defeat, he grabbed the giant flashlight on the kitchen counter, and lit the way. "Looks like we're camping tonight." (Their codeword for when the power was knocked out.)

"Okie dokie," she said, ignorant to the cruel world of no pancakes for Sunday breakfast when the electric stovetop was out of commission.

In the meantime, he got them both ready for bed with the added pain of doing it by a single wobbly light source, ready to pass out the second his body sank to the mattress and his head hit the flat pillow—

But of course, Adrie rocked his shoulder incessantly, goading him into giving her attention at her whim, sanity be damned. "Mm?" he grunted, coating the noise in mild annoyance.

"Daddy?" she checked.

The wait for her question grew excruciatingly long.

He almost wasted an eye roll. "Yes, my child?"

"I wish Miss Mouse was here."

Surprised more so by his yawn than the request itself—and then surprised again when his heartbeat remained calm when confronted with the reality of Adrie noticing too much—he struggled to stay awake in his best interest, perhaps giving an inappropriate answer, and unwittingly feeding into her inner wishes, "I do too." He was fading, and quick. The hard rain had returned, droning white noise on the roof, soothing his eyelids closed over the dry sting they drew. Rolling, fighting the stiff sheets tucked around them both, he threw an arm over her before the doom-roll of thunder came. Sweet dreams greeted him in a pair of tiny arms folded to his chest. Brain shutting down. Night, night. Asleep.

"I wish she was my mom."

"Goodnight, Adrie," he stressed.

[b-ritney]

Dude I get wicked post line dancing depression, I just wanna be out there among the people bro getting my boot scoot and boogie on... lmao and I don't even like country music

[b-ritney]

screaming crying giggling omfg this is awesome

I’ve had this thing in the back of my head for awhile about Phone Sex Operator!Eddie and the reader going through a dry spell so she calls to get out her frustration OR the other way around and Eddie constantly calls because he’s obsessed with her voice, and most of the time he just wants to hear her voice so he’ll spend his time just talking to her

dial-a-thrill

Phone sex operator!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: you and your ex broke up more than five months ago and you’ve refused to start dating again, even the thought of a one night stand puts a bad taste in your mouth but on a lonely night something you thought you’d never be desperate enough to do, becomes as tempting as ever.

⚠️warnings: eventual smut, 18+ mdni, phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, sweet eddie, talk of sexual acts, lots of pet names (baby, sweet thing etc) readers been deprived, one little mention of readers ex being a cheater, they fall fast.

wc: 3k

notes: thank you so much to whoever requested this. I’m obsessed with this prompt. Yes, there will be a part 2. (don’t forget to tip your writers with a comment and reblog)

You’re not sure what lead you to this point, what has you so desperate to stoop to a new low. But you’re willing to bet it’s the fact that you’ve not been touched in several months. After you ended things with your cheating, lying, sorry excuse of an ex boyfriend Troy, the thought of moving on and putting yourself back out there in the dating world just didn’t seem appealing to you in the slightest. You decided after the break up to throw yourself into work, so you didn’t have to deal with the hollowed out feelings of loneliness that had taken over.

Up until now, you thought you’d be completely fine, you thought you would make single life your bitch by doing just that, staying single. What’s the point of moving on when you’re just bound to get hurt? You couldn’t risk feeling that pain, again.

So instead of being a normal person and going out to a bar or club to find someone to offer you the release you’ve been craving, you’re dialing a number you got off the the tube as you watched some late night tv. The commercial alone had you hot and bothered, the men they used for the ad reeled you in so easily, but the sultry sound of the man’s voice that read off the number, beckoning you to call and talk to “hot local men” had you shamelessly clenching your thighs together. Has it really been so long, that you’re this desperate? The answer is yes, absolutely.

So here you are laid in bed, silky pajamas adorning your curves, as you wrap the red cord of the landline around your manicured fingers. Awaiting a voice on the other end, as the phone continues to ring. You debate hanging up, this was embarrassing, surely the man that picks up will know what a desperate loser you are, so desperate you have to call a phone sex operator to help you get off. But your curiosity out weighed your pride at this point.

“Hello, thank you for calling dial-a-thrill, what’s your name?” The low husky voice greeted, knocking you right out of the back and forth thoughts playing ping pong in your mind.

“Hi, hello.” You replied, as all confidence left your body “m-my names, y/n.” You closed your eyes in shame, rubbing your hand down the side of your face, it’s been so long that you can’t even speak to the opposite gender without fumbling over your words, or it could be the insanely attractive voice of the man on the phone, that is making you lose all resolve.

“Nice to meet you y/n, my names Eddie. How are you this evening?” He mused, you could hear the hints of a smirk said through his words.

“I’m doing okay, how’s yours?” And you definitely sucked at small talk.

“Can’t complain now that I’m talking to you.” He flirted, you know he probably says that to everyone who calls in, but you couldn’t help the blooming heat of your cheeks at his admission.

You giggle like a little school girl, “well same here, Eddie.” You try out the same salacious tone he’s using, but end up cringing at yourself.

“What can I help you with tonight, sweetheart?” Your panties are ruined, you mind as well take them off now because if he keeps up with this you’ll be drenched. “Hmm, I don’t know, I just wanted to talk.” You responded, immediately realizing how desperate that sounds, you should’ve just hung up when you had the chance.

“Just to talk? Are you sure about that?” He laughs a little before continuing. “I mean, we can talk, don't get me wrong but people don’t usually call just to talk.” Yup, you were right, you are humiliated.

“Yeah, I’m sure they don’t, but um I’ve just I don’t know maybe this was a dumb idea, I’m sorry.” You almost slam the phone down back onto the receiver before you hear his voice again, “no, no, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or weird just because you want to talk. I don’t mind talking, sweet thing, I’m just not used to it, that's all.”

You bite your lip, mentally battling with yourself whether you want to continue, his voice once again knocks you out of your inner turmoil, “hello? Sweetheart?” — “mmm, yeah I’m here, sorry!” You say after clearing your throat. “Well what would you like to talk about? we can talk for as long as you'd like, but just to remind you, it is 5 dollars per hour.”

“Right, yeah I remember,” you clarified as you lay back into your pillows, getting more comfortable. “So, how do these calls usually go for you?” Probing purely out of curiosity, a little part of you wanting to know how this phone call could possibly go.

“Well, that depends on you, sweet thing.” He chuckles, “but, usually it’s women wanting me to help them get off.” He sighs, as if he’s deep in a memory, “mm, I see, so what do you usually say t-to help them?” You were aware Eddie could practically feel your nervous energy through the phone, “hey, baby. I can tell you’re nervous, I'm sure this is your first time doing this, but I promise you I'm not here to judge you, I don’t bite okay?” His voice going from an almost low growl to that of a tone with genuine compassion, it put you at ease and made you feel ten times more comfortable with the whole situation.

“Thank you, I needed that.” You lightly chuckle, “so, do you also touch yourself? Or, I mean I’m sure you get so many calls, sometimes you have to fake it.” You continue prodding until the conversation slowly goes in the right direction, in due time. He hums before he begins speaking, “I’ll be honest, I fake it about 80% of the time, after doing this so long you kind of get immune to the dirty talk and the moans.” You weren’t sure if you wanted that honesty, you definitely don’t want him to fake it with you.

After a beat of silence from you, as if he’s telepathically reading your mind through the phone he lets out a held breath softly distorting the sound on his side. “Shit, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that, I’m trying to make you comfortable and now you’re probably going to be worried about whether what I’m doing or saying is real.” He huffs. “No, I mean yeah that was my first thought but I guess I asked so you’d answer honestly. You’re right, I’ve never done anything like this before and I’m just curious on how it all works.” You begin playing with the buttons on your silky top out of nervousness.

“That’s alright, I’ve never had anyone call in curious about any of this, so it’s a nice change. You just tell me what you’re comfortable with and I’ll follow along. How does that sound, baby?” His tone pulls you in like a siren's song. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

You bite your lip, and begin rubbing at your pert nipple as you continue to speak. “Eddie?” Your voice sounded so soft, you almost didn’t recognize it. “Yes, sweetheart?” His voice, just as soft, answered. “Can you not pretend with me, please?” You sounded so delicate, so sweet. “I wasn’t planning on it, y/n.” His voice was wrapped in honey. ‘I wish I knew him outside of this’ pops into your head, but you quickly shake that thought away.

“Your voice is really sexy.” The burst of confidence makes your heart rate pick up. “Oh yeah?” His tone now cocky, you couldn’t help the movement of your right hand making its way into your little sleep shorts. “Mmhm, it is.” The words come out breathy. “Well thank you, sweet girl.” He says. “Mmm.” Is all you let out as you begin to rub your clit over your cotton panties, you can feel the very prominent wet spot in the center. “What are you doing, baby?” The seductive voice on the other end asks. “I have my hand in my shorts, I-I’m rubbing myself.” You say shyly.

Eddie’s eating it up on the other side, your innocence for what you’re engaging in, is really turning him on, he hasn’t been this aroused by a caller in what seems like forever. “How bout you take your little shorts off? Get comfortable.” He suggests, you oblige by lifting your hips and pulling your panties and shorts down in one go, dropping them off the side of your bed. “Okay, they’re off.” The last thing you wanted from this call was to feel desperate, yet here you are completely and utterly desperate for this man, who you didn’t even know. “Good girl,” his tone getting even more salacious, “open your legs up wide for me, baby.” You couldn’t hold back the moan that bubbled out of your chest at his words, you’d never been talked to like this, it was sending you into an orbit and you began to wonder if he was really local to your area like the commercial said, what you would do to meet him in real life and have all these words whispered into your ear as he pounded into your pussy.

“You like that, baby? You wanna be my good girl?” As those words left his mouth, you began to sink a finger into your drenched hole. “Fuck yes, I wanna be your good girl, please?” You beg as your lower lip slightly puckers. “Listen to you baby, you’re a natural.” He says with a chuckle, “such pretty little noises. You’re makin’ my dick hard, sweet thing.” He growls, “mmm, am I really?” You’re continuing the assault on your pussy, pushing your finger all the way in to the second knuckle, but you need more so you add another. “I told you baby, I’m not faking it with you, you make the sexiest sounds I’ve ever heard, fuck!” He groans, you hear shuffling going on in the background. After adding the second finger you’re now letting out little sounds of “uh, uh” and “ah”. You can hear slick, wet sounds coming from him, “If I was there with you right now, what would you want me to do to you, baby?” He sounds breathless. “I would have your fingers inside of me, instead of mine. They’re too small.” You whine with a pout. “I would love to finger fuck you, baby.” He groans, “would you let me eat your pussy?” He sounds so needy, needy for you and it’s turning you on even more, if that’s possible. “I’ve never had anyone do that before.” You timidly say, “no? Well fuck now I wanna be the first guy to eat your pussy, make you feel so fucking good! I’d make you forget what your name was, after I’m done.” His breathing continues to pick up.

“Oh you’re cocky.” You giggle but it’s cut off by a guttural moan you let out after you take the wetness from your hole and begin rubbing your clit. “Fuck,” he moans before continuing. “I have a good reason to be.” He says with a heavy sigh. “Really? Why is that?” Your ministrations have picked up as the knot in your belly begins to tighten, “if you saw my dick in person you’d understand.” He chuckles, “describe it to me, Eddie.” You know the description is going to be what sends you over the edge. “It’s about 8 inches, cut and thick.” Your legs start shaking as you tense up your body, “keep going, omg please keep going.” You squeak. He laughs before he continues, “It’s so fucking hard right now, the tip is so red and I’m already leaking precum, baby.” The picture in your head is so vivid, god what you would do to be able to suck it, or bounce on it. “Eddie, fuck! It sounds so pretty.” The knot is wrapped so tight and your body is unbelievably tense. “Spit on it for me, baby and pretend it’s me on my knees, sucking your cock.” You were full of confidence now that you were on the verge of an earth shattering orgasm, “fuck, I’m the one suppose to be talking to you like that, but holy shit sweet thing, you’re about to make me cum. Are you close?” You debate on lying and edging yourself, you don’t want this phone call to end, but you can’t you’re already there and fuck does it feel amazing. “I’m cumming! Oh my god Eddie, I’m cumming!” You’ve never been a loud person in bed but you’ve also never been this turned on. If that says anything about your ex, then maybe you should be more appreciative that it ended.

“Fuck, I’m cumming too, baby!” You hear the slick noises get faster as Eddie’s moans get louder, as the crescendo of his orgasm crashes over him and now all you hear is the loud breathing of you both, coming down from your highs. “You still there?” He asks, after inhaling and exhaling a particularly deep breath. “Yeah, I’m still here.” You didn’t want this call to get awkward, you should probably just thank him for his time and hang up. “Do you wanna keep talking or are you good for the night?” His cocky laugh makes you playfully roll your eyes. “Well maybe I can call again, sometime?” You get up and slip your panties and shorts back onto your lower half. “Yeah baby, you can call whenever you like.” You can hear his smile, even though you can’t see it, but god you wish you could see it. “So if I were to call, say tomorrow same time, would you answer?” You ask nervously, “Well, I’m not supposed to do this and I never have, but I do have an extension number you can reach me on after dialing this one, if the line is busy then just hang up and try again until I answer, does that work?” You nod before remembering he can’t see you, “y-yeah, that works. What is it?” You dig in your side drawer pulling out an old receipt and pen, “it’s extension #045.” You scribble it down before throwing the pen back in the drawer, “okay, sounds good. You have a goodnight Eddie.” There was a giddiness to your tone, you hoped he didn’t pick up on. “Goodnight, baby. I’ll talk to you later?” He questioned, “yes, talk to you later.” You hang up and stand from your bed walking over to your mirror, sticking the number on one of the open spaces between the mirror and the wood encasing it.

You didn’t call Eddie until four days later, you were swamped with work and when you’d get home you were absolutely exhausted, you also didn’t wanna seem too eager so you were grateful work took up some of your time. But today was your day off and your plan was to stay home and talk to Eddie, maybe it’s stupid to spend your time talking to a phone sex operator but you can’t deny, he made you feel things you never have before.

When the clock hit 7:30pm you punched the number and the extension into the phone, to your disappointment it was busy, so you hung up and decided to occupy yourself for a little bit. After about 20 minutes you called back, Eddie almost immediately answered.

“Hello, thank you for calling dial-a-thrill, what’s your name?” You smile at the sound of his voice.

“Eddie, it’s y/n.” You were afraid the next time you called you’d feel as nervous as the last time, but luckily you had some sort of confidence this time round.

“Fuck, thank god! I had some real weirdos today.” He snorts “I haven’t heard from you, thought you wouldn’t end up calling back.” You could hear the disappointment in his voice. Wow, did he actually want to talk to you? A part of you thought he wouldn’t even remember you the next time you called, but here he is basically telling you he waited for your call, he thought about you. The thought made your cheeks rosy and made a warmth descend over your body.

“I’m sorry, I was really busy with work, and honestly way too exhausted, but luckily I didn’t have to go in today, so..” you trail off before he interrupts. “You don’t have to be sorry, baby. Guess I was just excited to hear from you.” Your eyes slightly widen at his words, excited to hear from me? You silently asked yourself. “Yeah, right. How many women call in and hear that?” You cackled at your words, but Eddie stayed silent. “I actually don’t tell anyone that, just like I’ve never given out my direct extension.” He takes a deep breath, “look, I’m sure you have your thoughts about me considering what my job is, but when I speak to other women it’s about sex and that’s it, for me and them. They don’t care if they’re talking to me or some other guy, I-I know this is weird, given this is our second time talking on the phone, but I really felt this connection with you I’ve never felt, talking to anyone else.” Your stomach fills with butterflies, you knew you felt something, you just didn’t expect him to feel it too. You couldn’t help but do a little giddy dance at his words, you felt like you were dreaming. You’ve been pining over this man for days, unable to get him out of your mind and you don’t even know what he looks like, you only have his voice and personality to go based on and somehow that makes the connection feel deeper. “Hey, um are you really local to Indianapolis?” You sheepishly ask. “I actually live in Hawkins, so kind of.” He says, but his next words catch you totally off guard, “would you like to maybe meet up sometime?”

Thank you for reading!

[b-ritney]

If I don't get more tattoos rn I think I might cry

[b-ritney]

OMG thank you for reminding me Ill go fix the link <3

MY FAVS LIST PT.2

for some reason every time I try to add a new fic to my original favs list it says there is an "Error processing my post" *rolling my eyes* I have so many fics to add to the list tho, get ready to add some new HEAT to your TBR :)

PART 1 You DO NOT want to miss these

mostly Stranger Things and Avatar lmao

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sleepy and Needy in Steves Lap by @lunarzstarz SMUT

Oh my f'ing GAWD, this is *chef's kiss* this writer is SO talented.

she's gonna save me by @newlips Fluff

Bestie im on my knees. You killed that fr, mechanic Eddie never disappoints. :) THIS IS A 2 PaRt SeriES so far!!

as long as you need by @lilacletter SMUT

As promised I was FINALLY able to add this to the list! :) I love the kindness and attentiveness the writer portrayed in Eddie it's so PerFecT, this writer is sooo talented! Get ready to MELT like a popsicle in JULY.

You Give Love A Bad Name by @cinemaquinn SMUT SMUT SMUT

Also as promised I was finally able to add this to the list :) come get ya'll JUICE!!! I am LIVING for the breaks in his dominant demeanor. Like even though he's a dick he still wants her to feel good and be comfortable. BUT THE ENDING TORE MY ASS UPPPPP girllllll it's soooo good!

Ok i had to come back and add more to this bc i've now read it 3 times.

You know when you're looking for that perfect dynamic in a fic that is the sexiest to you? This is that for me. Like you can tell that even though he is cocky and has the rockstar persona when it gets down to it you can tell he genuinely cares that she is comfortable and enjoying herself. and the CHECKING IN had me giggling and kicking my feet like... he is giving me whiplash in the best way... its like a fatal attraction, he draws you in with the bad boy persona and then switches up and is all sweet and caring and then goes right back to the bad boy. I'm so excited to see how the next part goes.

Lets Go Dont Wait by @carolmunson spicy Fluff

Girl... you've once again blessed me with a masterpiece, I'm officially dubbing it a New York Times best-seller

Check out @pandorxx and @tiredmamaissy for some KILLER avatar smut... I mean both of these writers are so talented... and the content they serve is *bitting my knuckles* SO PeRfecT.... if you love ten-foot-tall, blue, SHREDDED cat people then they've got you covered fr fr <3

Satiate me by @zujime SMUT

hehehehehe this is.. hehehe sensational... we love a tired, hazy dick down... at least I do. *cries in virgin* Listen... The casual dominance had me at attention like YES SIRRRRR when he goes, “Open up for me, yeah?” and “Tongue out, baby, come on.” I was GONE. seriously fabulous work <3

Just call me Mr.Munson by @bimbobaggins69 SMUT

Listen the idea of sucking dick has never been appealing to me.. only just recently have I discovered this itty bitty part of me that might like it a little... but THIS, this has given me a whole new perspective lmao consider my horizons broadened, and the idea not completely off the table LMFAO <3 awesome fic

Eddie Shotgunning blurb by @wndalovebot SpICy <3

Doing this with someone is in my top 3 fantasies lmao you should have heard the scream I scrumpt lmao I am a fucking fool for this. You know what I would do if this ever happened to me.... I honestly don't know... but my knees are weak just thinking about it. Sooo Good! <3

Steddie Tattooing blurb by @idkmanijustwannawrite SMUT

Y'all already know this was being added immediately, lmao this first time I got a tat was a religious experience bc I discovered so much about myself lmaooo I was like "you know what would be good with this???" ...Head... all these thoughts were internal. Don't worry I have some semblance of decency lmao then I found out that there is a whole community of people who think the same thing on here lmao all jokes aside, this is so so so good go give it a read, show the author some love, you will not be disappointed. <3

Mafia Eddie by @funsonmunson-again

This shit has me giggling like a fool, I can not talk enough about how talented this writer is, I am on my knees fr queen. It's the type of writing you read over and over and NEVER get tired of. <3 Mafia Eddie does something to me frrrrr.

Jake Sully x Bimbo gf by @coffeeandbookskeepmealive SMUT

This keeps me up at night lmao I'll be so for real I'm in between finals rn and I read this before taking my next test... I can't tell you how many times I've read it already.... I'm not normally into the lil housewife type thing but BRUH this had me crossing my legs and giggling fr. What I like about this is that it fits the prompt but Jake doesn't dehumanize her for being lil slut for him. He still treats her nice and wants her to feel good and that makes me FERAL. Go show this writer some love! <3

The Truest Statement by @newlips 18+

I know this isn't necessarily fan fiction lmao but this is going to live in my head forever... lmfao 'big stretch' bruh i'm gone I blacked out.

Something Extra by @luveline SMUT

This was in my first favs list but the damn link broke at some point so I wanted to put it here again because it is sooo good and deserves proper recognition!!! putting my old comments below :)

It's the way he so sexily explains what he's gonna do to the reader and asks if it's ok and everything, we love a respectful man UGH actually though it is so so so so good.

I Need Something By @hellfiremunsonn SMUT

This is the first time I've seen an author (yes an AUTHOR you are so talented <3) mention a lil panic moment after sex which is more common than people might think, there are so many emotions flooding your system at once. and HOLY F this was just all-around amazing... when he "hey hey hey baby you're okay." My cheeks got HOT fr. <3

The "yes" Policy by @pinkrelish Fluff EVENTUAL SMUT

I have mentioned this before but I am just now on the last part and I want to tell the author with all honesty... your writing style blows my mind I was enthralled in every sentence and I could read this over and over and over... you are beyond incredibly talented.. this is the type of story that could EASILY become a brilliant movie and YOU did that! I really hope you are proud of yourself bc all jokes aside this is a series is a masterpiece. EVERYONE should read this series.

Rabbit Food by @oneforthemunny SMUT

The truth is that I need to go through and write a commentary on all your master lists bc everything you write is gold but for some reason this week DILF Eddie has me in a fucking chock hold. Also, new kink unlocked... thank you. LMAO This is another author I can't recommend enough! <3

us versus them by @myosotisa SMUT

You should know I will be back to read this over and over and if I could leave 1000 hearts I would bc GOOD GAWD this did something to me fr fr. This part in particular:

"Did so good for me, sweetheart.

So pretty, so perfect.

Come back to me, baby. Nice and easy."

yeah, I died a little. As in I blushed so hard I had to get up and walk away to cool down. Take a bow bc you DID THAT!!

TBC... <3

[b-ritney]

palms sweaty moms spaghetti lawd have merthy

Us versus Them - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

summary: You made the mistake of telling your boyfriend Eddie you were having trouble using one of your toys because it was too strong. He's determined to help.

notes: smut, it's porn without plot, graphic sexual content. 'sir' kink, rope bondage, overstimulation, sex toy use, spitting, slapping (face and body), choking, degradation (slut, whore, etc.), praise, unprotected p in v, implied creampie, implied squirting, mean!Dom!Eddie (with aftercare). it's messy y'all, let me know if i missed anything.

wc: 2.6k~

this was written for @ghost-proofbaby because i said i would use all her kinks against her and this is my attempt. so here you go, babe. thanks to @fracturedarkness, @blue-mossbird, and @abibliophobiaa for proofreading and helping me write the ending. enjoy!

-

“If you don’t stop pulling on the rope it’s gonna break your skin, baby. Maybe I should get you some nice padded cuffs so you can struggle all you want without hurting yourself. But we can’t do that right now so,” the only warning you receive is the meat of Eddie’s palm touching your inner thigh, lining up the shot, punctuating the next 3 words with harsh slaps, “stop fucking squirming.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I’m so sorry! It’s just so, so much,” your voice breaks into a croak at the end, catching on the end of the sentence as your back arches away from the toy that Eddie holds relentlessly to your clit. He tied you up what felt like hours ago and has barely given you a chance to fucking breathe since he’d gotten the Rose Toy in his hand.

He pushes up onto all fours, moving from his prime viewing angle between your quivering legs to hover over your tear stained and flushed pink face. “Poor baby,” he coos in a mocking tone, his free hand running knuckles down your sweating cheek. “Too sensitive for her new toy. I told you I was gonna help you, didn’t I? Told you I was gonna tie you up and get you used to it, didn’t I?” The relentless buzz sends your eyelids fluttering again, a whimper crawling its way out of your throat as you try to process what he’d asked you. 

The next slap hits you across the cheek, lighter than the smacks on your thighs, but still harsh enough that your eyes shoot back open and your cracked lips break apart in a gasp. Eddie’s thumb and forefinger press into your cheeks on either side, locking your jaw wide as he leans in even closer. Reeling back an inch, he spits hard into your open mouth, hitting the back of your throat and triggering your gag reflex. “I asked you a question, dumb whore.”

“You did,” you mumble out through the way he grips your jaw, struggling to swallow the thick saliva that pools in the back of your throat from yourself and him. “You told me, Eddie.”

“There we go, now was that so hard?” He asks, eyebrows raising to let you know he does expect an answer. You shake your head the best you can given his hold and he rewards you with removing his hand and the press of a button, making the vibration swap from a constant swirl to a pulsing vibration that you feel from your scalp to your toes.

“Edd-ie!” You keen, your back bowing as your body tries to pull away from the overwhelming sensation. He’d learned that if he left it on one setting for a long enough period of time, it would start to lose potency, almost like a numbness, which made swapping the pattern that much more powerful.

“Eddie!” He parrots back to you in a high pitched tone. “Aw baby, you’re drooling all over your chin. Messy girl.”

Eyebrows pinching tight together, a broken moan echoes out into the room as your pussy clenches down hard on nothing. “Please, sir, it hurts.”

“You can’t handle it? It hurts?” His voice pitches up in a taunt, clicking his tongue and shaking his head in disappointment. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and bite down hard, tears spilling out from the corner of your eyes as you nod. “That’s a shame baby. Because I need you to squirt all over your pretty blue bed sheets before we’re done.” The idea of needing to hold back in order to achieve that has you whimpering in the back of your throat – your last 3 orgasms had torn out of you like wild animals.

“I can’t – I can’t do it, Eddie. I can’t,” you babble, the words stuck on your tongue like a skipping record as your hazy and sluggish brain tries to make sense of anything.

A ringed hand grips your throat, not cutting off air or blood flow, but with enough pressure to pin you down and make you really feel it. There’s an absolute inferno of lust in his eyes, pupils blown out in an oil fire that shows no signs of stopping any time soon.

“You can, and you will.” His command is deep gravel, sending an electric shiver down your spine. “Don't be ungrateful baby, you take what I give you, understand?”

A sob tears from your throat, tears falling freely as your thighs clamp down on Eddie’s hand and the toy it holds. But you don’t answer fast enough, Eddie’s other hand tightening on either side of your neck to stamp the blood flow to your brain. “You really have lost all your manners, haven’t you, sweetheart? Not a single brain cell in that whole noggin’.” He lets go quickly after, huffing a little laugh at how you suck in air, and then flicks your temple with his middle finger. “Just a stupid slut that can’t think of anything other than how much you want to be filled up.”

The idea of some kind of stimulation other than the Rose has you begging before you can even second guess it. “Please, please sir, want to be filled up so bad. Want your fingers or your cock or your tongue, please, just anything.”

“Anything, huh?” He asks, manic gilt in his eye as his plump lips spread in a sharp grin. “Anything at all?”

“No, no no no no, please, want you Eddie! Want you inside me, please!” You know he would comply maliciously to your request unless you scrambled your thoughts together enough to make a more specific one. Attention wavering from your own body to him as you try to ignore the pressure building in your abdomen for the who knows how many-th time.

“Sounds so pretty, baby,” his sharp grin goes soft, just a bit of teeth behind bitten red lips. “Beg for it again. Better this time.”

The vibrator switches patterns on cue.

“Please!” Comes out as a screech, a burn crawling down your vocal chords that you know you’ll be feeling tomorrow. “Please, sir, want you to fuck me so bad. Want your cock, want your cum insi-ide me. Please, pleasepleasepleaseplease-”

A whispered “fuck,” is the first sign you get that Eddie’s resolve is crumbling. It has you gasping out, fingers twisting in the rope that still binds you to the headboard in anticipation. Whenever he got like this, wanting to bring you to tears and desperation more than anything else, it was hard to get him to change his mind. But once the first pillar cracked, betraying his carefully curated domineering persona, it was a short matter of time until all that remained was splinters.

His free hand flies to his belt, fumbling fingers trying to pull it loose. “Okay, baby, I hear you. I’ll give you what you want if you give me what I want, okay?” You nod harshly, a full body shiver coasting through you as another moan hits the air. Then a sharp pinch on your inner thigh has you yelping. “I said, okay?”

“Okay, yes, yes, whatever you want,” you rush out, the words tumbling over each other in your haste to not halt the progress of getting this adventure to finally be over, “I’ll do anything.”

“Good girl,” he hits a little love tap right where he pinched, sending another shock straight to your cunt, before he goes back to yanking his belt free. It takes an awkwardly long time for him to do with one hand but you know better than to tease him for it now. You just wait as patiently as you can while he undoes his fly and shimmies his pants and boxers down just low enough for his fat cock to hit the air. Just the sight of it, skin tinted with an angry red and pearly white pre-cum pooled in the foreskin that covers the tip, has your toes curling and your thighs tensing. All you can do is watch as he wraps his long-fingered hand around the top of it, easing the skin back so he can spread the substance down his shaft, a shaky exhale leaving him as he pumps his fist a few times before tilting his hips down toward you.

Realizing he’s going to fuck you fully dressed while you lie naked on your bed has your breath catching again before you even feel the hot mushroom head of him press into you below where the Rose still buzzes relentlessly. “Fuck! Baby, you’re so wet – shit, so fucking t-tight.” He stutters out, clearly affected as he starts to feed inch after inch of his hard cock into your fluttering cunt with a hand gripping the base to stop him from finishing before he can even get all the way inside.

The feeling of him splitting you open, how your own slick pushes its way out of you in rivulets as he bullies his way inside almost threatens to undo you immediately. Your gasp comes out as a croak, your eyebrows drawing tight together in near agony as he bottoms out.

“Sh-shit. Baby, I’m not gonna last. I can-” he cuts off with a groan as you clench down on his length when the vibrations come back to the forefront of your attention. “Can feel the vibe. Feel how close you are.”

“Eddie, please,” you whimper, fingernails digging into your palms as you lose the only control of yourself that you had left when he starts to pull back. He rears back only a scarce inch or two before his hips rush back forward, lips parting soundlessly as his face contorts in feeling. You prepare for the onslaught but curse loudly when he pulls all the way out, leaving you feeling even more empty and bereft than before. Before you can openly question it, he grips your leg and folds it back, knee towards the bedside table, and wedges himself beneath your hips and the bed. He reaches over and hitches your other leg up similarly, using the elbow of the arm that is still wedged between your legs to keep it in place.

Hips tipped up, he forces himself back inside your awaiting hole without warning. Positioned like this, he rubs directly up against the spot on the front wall of your cunt that has you seeing stars and trying not to scream. “There she is,” he sighs out, a satisfied smile gracing his face when he sees your eyes roll back. His hand goes back to gripping the underside of your thigh, pressing the fold deeper as he grinds down into you. “Now we’re giving her what she wants, isn’t that right?”

It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about your pussy and that knowledge sends you spinning, barely keeping afloat as he begins to fuck into you in earnest. “Fuck, baby, never gets old,” the rough material of his jeans rubs against your ass, the metallic clatter of his belt slapping the sides of your thighs each time he bottoms out. “Like this pussy was made for me.”

“Yours,” you manage to squeak out, trying to focus on the way his cock splits you apart instead of the numbing pain of the Rose that still swirls against your overstimulated clit. “Yours, yours, yours.”

“That’s right,” a throaty laugh rumbles through him as he looks down to where the two of you are connected, “my pretty pussy that’s gonna gush all over me, just like I asked.” The vibrator swaps patterns again, the new one way past too much for you, and you can’t stop the scream that forces itself out of your dropped jaw. Eddie groans above you, feeling both the new vibration and how strongly your muscles clench around him as it reacts to the stimulation. “Can feel you, my little slut.” His fingers dig into the meat on the underside of your quivering thighs as he settles into a bruising pace. “You gonna give me what I want? Gonna soak my cock, make a mess of your pretty sheets?”

“Eddie!” Is the only response you have to offer as your eyes pinch closed, trying to focus on letting the pressure within you build beneath the pain of the overstimulation.

“Right here, baby,” he confirms, cold rings rubbing along your thigh to soothe you, “I’ve got you. Just gotta give it to me, sweetheart. Give me what I want. Make a mess.”

The wet squelch of your pussy is obscene as you squeak out an exhale each time he drives home, pressure tipping higher and higher until your fingers, toes, and lips go numb. “E- euh,” you try to get out his name, let him know you’re going to come, that you’re going to give him what he wants, but all you can do is moan out. Loud and long, voice pitching up as his satisfied grin returns again. It only takes a few more rolls of his hips against yours, the curls at the base of his cock flattened wet with your own slick, before you lose yourself entirely.

Vision whiting out, back bowing, muscles in your body clenching tight as all sensation centers around your bullied cunt and then explodes outwards in a rush of endorphins you simply cannot feel. If there was ever a moment that you would describe as ‘leaving the Earth’ it would be this one – and in the overwhelm of that rush, you abandon the ground, floating up amongst the stars until all goes dark.

Did so good for me, sweetheart.

So pretty, so perfect.

Come back to me, baby. Nice and easy.

When your eyes blink back open again, all you can see is the side of Eddie’s head, his hair tucked behind his ear. He’s looking down your body, and as you follow his gaze, the feeling returns to between your legs, where he is carefully wiping you clean with a warm, wet cloth. You're unable to stop the whimper from coming out as you instinctively twitch away from the gentle touch. His big, brown eyes shoot to yours at the movement, pulling the soft cloth away from your sensitive skin. “I know, I’m sorry, baby. I’m almost done. Doing so good.”

Nullified by his praise, you grit your teeth and bare it as he does 2 more soft swipes across your swollen folds and then tosses the rag back toward your bathroom with a wet slap. “Okay, now some water.” A hand tucked behind your shoulder to lift just your head off the mattress, a cold glass of water presses to your dry lips. You take a few grateful gulps before pushing back against his hand to let him know you're done. Not wanting to push you to drink more, he sets the glass down on the bedside table and reaches for your hand, gripping the tender skin of your wrist between his own fingers and pressing a kiss to the marks the rope left behind. “What else do you need, anything?”

Swallowing hard to attempt to find your words for the first time, you shake your head. “Just you, Eddie. Just you.”

- - -

Sneaking back into your shared apartment a few weeks later, you’re careful not to let the plastic bag in your grip make too much noise as you run as quietly as you can to the bedroom. 

Your new purchase is a bit different than the toys you and Eddie have played with so far, but your excitement is almost beyond measure.

After all, payback is a bitch. And it’s you versus him.

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let me know if you enjoyed, thanks for reading :)