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#get fuckin WILD DUDE
angorwhosebabyisthis · 2 months
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every now and then i remember the time a few years ago, when sdmi fandom first had its revival thanks to netflix, when a wildly popular sdmi blog run by an anti said the words 'perfectly good Black woman' in reference to why you should ship [man you could easily read as white, whose arc she was fridged for] with her instead of [hatesink character whose race is ambiguous due to being a furry, but has a BLISTERINGLY antiblack narrative under a thin layer of fantasy racism, with a fun side of homophobia and holocaust denial the latter of which is directly invoked in the post], which got hundreds of notes, and i grimace my face through the back of my head all over again lmao
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stealingyourbones · 6 months
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Re: you are playing half-life
1) GOOD IT'S GREAT, needs a bigger fandom outside hlvrai. Also maybe look into Black Mesa- the fan made modern remake that is *absolutely beautiful,* one of the few games that would probably actually be worth $60, but is actually only $20, and is a faithful recreation with modern technology.
2) siren pups are called houndeyes! Headcrabs are probably p obvious, but also, the squid face dogs are bullsquids, and the three-armed aliens are vortigaunts!
3) pleas don't slander my boy Barney Calhoun like that he's just a security guard not a cop and in fact is canonically, actively anti-cop/anti-facist in HL2 please he doesn't deserve to have his game rejected like that PLEASE LOVE MY BOY-
Ok im sorry that's all I'm done I'm just passionate about these games I hope u enjoy them ok bye <3
!!! Oh bro you’re so good!! I absolutely LOVE people talking about things they’re passionate about and have a bunch of facts to share!!!!
I KNOW THE NAME OF THE HOUNDEYES NOW!!! Today is a good day :)
I shall play Blue Shift then fuck yeah!!! Was just about to start Half Life 2 so I’m glad I found that out beforehand and play everything in series! I’m absolutely gonna check out that fanmade game that sounds so cool!
As a kid I was pretty much fully isolated from video games as a whole and honestly it’s been a BLAST playing games that are spoiled or well known for many but completely unknown for me! I finished playing the Portal series a few weeks ago and MAN I now know why it is on such a high pedestal!! The games are wonderful and the characters are absolutely iconic. Currently going through well known earlyish PC games, the Doom games, Portal, Half-Life, and slowly chugging my way through chronologically so I can see how video gaming as a whole progressed and evolved! It’s so neat! It’s really hard trying to play a few games though, lots of games expect you to know a lot of stuff so I have to watch lots of videos to make sure I’m not forgetting a Super Important button that does a Super Important Game Mechanic. It’s so cool tho!!!! I’m having such a great time!!!!!!! Thanks for the ask my guy!! :D
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ravenwolfie97 · 2 months
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hey question why is mac n cheese so addicting to eat send post
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andthebeanstalk · 1 year
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Anytime a demon shows up in a movie, it's always "oh no! get a priest! get holy water! get some crosses!"
and never "hey guys what makes us think that the Catholic Church as an institution is prepared to fight evil? Particularly when it relies upon the existence of perceived evil in order to maintain its power??"
Or "Hey, why does every story about magic and the Catholic Church also tend to canonically validate Christianity as the one true religion??"
And Wendall & Wild is like, "don't worry, y'all. We got you covered."
--
Anyway, this is yet another reason I love the portrayal of the Church in this movie. This is the most thematically coherent animated American film I've seen in a thousand years.
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Every time somebody writes Eddie doing something super cool and sexy I have have headcanon two goblin-esque habits for him to keep it even
#eddie munson x reader#hes despicable and im in love with him and hes not sexy unless he has the energy of a weird loser who does weird off putting stuff#and is sometimes shoved into water idk i need my fictional men as sad and pitiful as possible or else im not attracted to them anymore#u say hes like a super kinky dom that gets ass all the time?#i say he hasnt washed his hair in 2 weeks and wears all those layers bc he gets cold very easily and shivers a lot#idk if anybody else is listening to taz ethersea but theres this lil guy called urchin#and he speaks in a high pitched voice and one of the first things he says is im a nasty lil freak just a wild little guy#the other day i was trying to find a thru line of like when the wretched little man becomes truly my beloved wretched little man#and i think its when they get soaked in water against their will#like a baptism of sorts#to really become the kind of character i will think about for several years#just sopping wet in their clothes on the rest of the adventure while they are touching wet denim#which is always bad#anyway#i feel like i always need to end these by saying that this is 100% genuine and said with love but i feel like if u read this far u know#i just have very specific and very bad taste in dudes#ive been rewatching some formative media lately and hoo boy every fuckin one theres like a soaking wet miserable boy#that i was fucking obsessed with#and every time im like oh yeah thats gotta be the origin#and then i see an earlier one and its that one#who was the original horrrible boy that made me this way?#wait#fuck#fuck wait i do know who it is and now i need to go lay down#fucking annakin skywalker#he and padme were my first ship my first queer crush simultaneously#and aparently absolutely instilled the deep love of sad boy cool girl within me#thats the name my friend gave it and she said it so succinctly that i needed a minute bc thats it#cool girl is also a slug woman in her own ways but shes always confident about it at least#anyway thanks ive had this blog for a week and now u know the entire history of my taste in men thanks for coming to my seminar
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gibbearish · 7 months
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speaking of terraria ive spent the last few days grinding my way through it for the first time in i think like over two years and i forgot. so much but also im doing SO much better than before
#i put it in expert mode too and ive only ever done normal previously so its. wild ive gotten as far as i have as fast as i have#im already in hardmode#AND IM ON CONSOLE DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW MUCH THESE CONTROLS SUCK ASS ON CONSOLE#it was hard enough on pc but now it's just silly#on pc i was a yoyo main but thats basically impossible on console so now im sword as fuck#nights edge my beloved 💖#or for some bosses im ranged and just. pray i can sort of aim good lmao#some shining day ill get a good gun and chlorophyte bullets and then wont have to think about it at all#but as is theres abt a 0% chance of me beating the mechs so we're back to grinding for now#plus i got harpy wings literally like an hour into hardmode so uhhhhh pretty fuckin good!!#i have gotten. so much better at dodging the wyverns than i ever was before#i think before i just avoided them until i was powerful enough to immediately kill them but this time i was like.#give me your fucking souls of flight right now i need wings NOW#and the harpies were the easiest thing for me to grind#its a 1/200 chance to drop‚ i think mine took like 350 to drop but thats still not bad#i just slapped down a space platform with a blue candle and called it a day#the fully surrounding damage from nights edge is so fuckin crucial though dude ive gotten swords that are technically higher damage already#but they just Cannot Compete with me being able to just. Not Let Things Touch Me At All#also the harpy wings are . ridiculously good for how early you can get them provided youre willing to grind a little?#i think every other time ive just gone through the ranks of em the way youre supposed to w like#and angel/demon ones and working my way up? but i was just like. hold on harpies are here all the time i could just. zool#zoop*
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creepyscritches · 1 year
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I've been sporadically watching episodes of bridezillas after spending 6 hrs alone with my stylist in her salon watching it together during my appt and. God. Everyone from my state/hometown area that gets on this show is.......not unusually aggro (start a fight in yeehaw town and it'll be the most annoying screaming match of your life before one or two punches decides the whole thing) but my GOD i had no idea how many people down here want a 100k wedding and expect their parents or bridal party to pay for it 👁️👁️
My mom got remarried in 2016 and I think they spent ~$300, most of that being church reservation/donation and booking a large group area at a local buffet everyone likes. She bought her dress for like $10 eight years prior and found matching shoes a couple month before the wedding for like $8 (she looked great too!). Deadass I think it took them 3 weeks to plan the wedding and finalize details. I just saw a groom-to-be get bullied into renting his fiance 3 stretch limos he couldn't afford and she's practically cartwheeling in triumph.......grooms on bridezillas..................you don't have to marry mean women
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waywardsalt · 10 months
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despite however you feel abt the rest of totks gameplay i feel like we can all agree that minerus mech thing fucking sucks
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medieval-canadian · 2 years
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sometimes i pick up lilith because she’s meowing at me to play but i’m in the middle of something like making tea and like. god. i mean obviously sometimes she squirms to communicate she wants to get down (and i let her of course), but a solid half the time, if not more, she just… settles in, puts her little paws on one shoulder and looks around and rubs her face on me like, “yeah okay this isn’t what i had planned but it’s p cool, i like it”
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candyradium · 1 year
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man i cannot believe that i went to school for over a decade and didnt care about getting up in the morning and now im at college and im so excited to go in every day and im disappointed when the day is over bc i want it to last longer
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gregmarriage · 2 years
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the way tom and shiv’s whole relationship has a aura of fakery to it and makes me so uncomfortable. they have the odd sweet moment but it’s mostly them being awkward around each other. their “open relationship” (which tom doesn’t seem comfortable with) is just shiv sleeping with other people but tom doesn’t and i’m curious if that will change, because it’s not really an open relationship if only one of you is getting with others, is it? every time the arrangement is brought up, tom really doesn’t seem into it. he seems to have only agreed because he doesn’t want to lose shiv. it’s so weird and uncomfortable.
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ink-asunder · 6 months
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Yeah, the jacket, the pack, the cane. Basically the only thing you can take in is your camera and your keys.
What about rescue meds, inhalers, water (in a cave that gets over 84 degrees sometimes). Why will my jacket brush up against things in ways my body wont already do. Where am I supposed to keep my payment and ID, bunny boy?? My fuckin bra? Or are those not allowed either
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devilfruitdyke · 1 year
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gonna be honest gang this is not trans joy of me
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burstinn · 6 months
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Male reader with absolutely Fucking Huge Tits.
(headcanons!)
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People shown: Soap, Gaz, Ghost, Price, Keegan, König, Horangi, Graves, Alejandro, Rudy
I felt silly I was high and it's funny jwjsjsnsw ew endnsndndnd.
Didn't think my first post would get that much attention but.. Anyways.. Yay?
You have fucking big moobs.. Huge male tits.. Fucking succulent ass Cherries
You are a guy. And lucky for you, You have the most plump, ungodly monumental tremendous tits ever. Ofcourse you had the build to support your huge tits.. But your tits were the most eye catching.
When you first joined 141 or Kortac or whateevveer....Man holy shit they went fuckin wild. Like they weren't even trying to hide that they were blatantly looking at your capacious boobs.
Soap
- he was the first to yell like some Scottish words for Holy shit when you landed out from the Heli showing off your stupendous balloons
- he would be the first to be staring with no shame
-he would also be the first to ask if he could squeeze them.
-he would ask you how the hell you got your mighty melons. And he would ask you if it's possible for you to lactate.
- idk he'd bark..
- if you were to sex. He would lick, slurp your hoo Haas
-Would see if he can make you lactate
-makes you wear a bra. Freaky
- continues to play with your dongdongs after your very amazing activity gently
Gaz
- His eyes went wide.. Probably did the shocked guy face with hands on his head when he saw you
- face red no eye contact trying to not look at your mammoth sized Quadruple D breasts
- secretly staring but it's so obvious he's staring especially when your running laps.. Yknow yknow boobie flaps go up and down Fr fr
- one day when you guys were alone together he probably went down on his knees.. Begging to let him touch and squeeze your boobies.
-If you were to do the devils tango.. Also bite marks.. And licks.. More gently but desperately.
Ghost
- eyes wide under mask. Is confused how a dude could get those unwieldy lofty ass TITTS.
- also secretly staring. Less to zero obviousness.
- wants to ask as well to touch your bazongas but he's to scared.
- you caught him staring once and he immediately looks away. So like the amazing man you are you asked him if he wants to hold your tatas.
-he nodded obviously.
-you doing the nasty? He's rough. No mercy to idk your whole body. Especially your gazongals.
-boob fucking.
-bruises hickeys bites everywhere. Mostly on your GadonkGadonks.
- he would bury his head on the middle of your Tits... It's like a pillow.
Price
- Suprised and impressed. Idk why he's still shocked everytime he sees you walking around
- looking sometimes. But more respectful
-you need too ask him first if he wants to hold your beach balls.
- if you do wrestling in bed. Loving duhh. Lovingly and softly suckling your Rounder Pounders.
- also buries his head on your moob boobs
- Would probably just call you in his office sometimes just so he can use your Boobs as a pillow.
-His beard tickles.. Hmm.
Keegan
- Awooga
-Pointing at it then looks back at someone then looking back at you then looking back at someone.. Then back and forth
-Takes pictures
- you were standing in front of him talking then he just suddenly.. Grabbed your Bazonkers.
-Takes more pictures. Has its own folder just for your mountainous front moons.
- Roleplay sex that involves fucking your boobs Intensity varies
König
- Blushing under mask
-is also a proud owner of plump tits. But he's afraid of yours.
-Also YOU need to be the one to ask as well if he wants a squeeze.
- compare boob sizes.
- rough but gentle RAAAAA. Would ask before doing anything to you doingloings
-Rubs your tats together
- ask before taking pictures.. Shows it to Horangi
- Sometimes he would just stare blankly at you before he just.. Squeezes your knockers..
-He immediately gets red and apologizes red faced from shame and embarrassment.
-When you told him you don't mind and it's okay.. He gets relaxed.
-Now he would just pull you into closets just so he could ask you to caress your man tiddies even though he doesn't need to.
-You caress his too. It's like a ritual.
Horangi
- starts laughing in shock and interest and is also impressed
- Also Staring no shame. But it's less obvious because of his shades
-Asks if your tits are implants..
- Would ask König for pics of your Cupcakes.
- Constant slapping of your boobers.
- jokes about your Honkers..
-Loves Your Honkers but also jealous. He wants big buggers as well :((
- Starts drawing on them. Non permanent colorful markers
-would dress it up as well. Putting glasses.. His sunglasses a mustache..
-would purposely smudge food on your Clonkers and He would say some shit like
'Sorry let me clean that up' and starts licking fr
Graves
- Soldier what the fuck he would say or something.
- Don't get distracted.. Gets distracted.
-Makes you purposefully fight/ train/ spar with him.. Make him discreetly hit or touch your award winning rounders
-If you confront him about it. He will probably say a half assed sorry. Look at you like some pissy bitch for forgiveness.
-Forgiveness being you let him do the bed rolling sweat inducing activity with you.
- Please PLEAASE let him picture it during your seeexx
- Shows it off. Of course he will. Who?
His shadows duh
-compliments your hooters frequently
Also makes jokes with his shadows
-Got sad once and dragged you away from whatever you were doing. And just used you as a pillow and cried.
- If most or all His Shadows are stressed or frustrated from a mission they all gettin in a single file line. And they get to caress touch YOUR FUCKING GARGANTUAN GAZOONKAS one minute each.
-Graves is last because.. He's doing more than just caressing your boobs...
Alejandro
- any Spanish nicknames to refer to your boobs that you don't know of
- Flirting.
- Conspicuous staring..Starts ranting to Rudy about how much he wants to hold your teacups. He's passionate about it to.
- Manages to get the balls with the help of Rudy.. To ask to hold your chest footballs.
- is gentle at first before he looses it and starts squeezing it and roughly touching. Until you made a very audible noise of hurt or discomfort
-Apologizes.. Buys you literally everything just so you can forgive him. On his knees saying sorry in Spanish.
- Praises your body
Rudy
- Just as thirsty as Alejandro. Just more shy and respectful.
- When Alejandro starts confessing to him how much he wants to touch your chests.. He reciprocated and also tell Ale how much he likes your Moobies.
- Sharing. Both sharing. Alejandro touching your left Rudy on the right.
- If Rudy is touching you. If you even shift on what he thinks is a sign of uncomfortability.. Will say sorry.. For weeks.. Even months.
- Will never forget it. Even though you probably did and assured him that it wasn't a sign of anything. Avoided you for a few days out shame.
-Also apologizes for avoiding you.
- Also Praises your body.
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girlboypersonthingy · 25 days
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Hiiii I wanted to request hazbin boys x injured male reader? Reader gets into a scuffle, gets roughed up quite a bit and comes home not looking too well (I wanna see em fuss over the reader lol)
Mmph, yes yes, I love boys fussing over their injured darling. Too fuckin cute! I have so many great requests for Hazbin and Helluva, I’m so excited 🫨 thanks for the request and enjoy anon 💟
Notes: gn!reader bc anyone can get into a scuffle so why not, mostly fluff with a sprinkle of angst
TW: blood, bruises, fighting, cussing, of course it’s suggestive during Angel’s part 😉
Includes Lucifer, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Vox and Alastor
Hazbin boys x reader- Bruises 🖤
You’re not sure who roughed you up, you barely got a look at the dudes before you were laid out on the dirty sidewalk getting punched and trying to push one of the perpetrators off you. Whoever he was, he was strong and brutal and must’ve really had a problem with you because damn, you were fucked up. Not that you couldn’t hold your own, but there was more than one of them and they really caught you off guard. You had suffered several blows to the face and a few kicks to the stomach and back. Seemed like the group showed just a bit of mercy tho- they could’ve broken your legs or straight up killed you. Luckily, you limped away with only minor injuries but a huge blow to your psyche. While it could’ve been worse, it was horrific and traumatizing regardless.
It’s hard trying to stay tough and take care of yourself because you’re scared, feeling like you’ll have to look over your shoulder from now on when you’re out on the streets. It was also a bit embarrassing considering Husk and Angel offered to tag along with you to keep you safe but your dumb ass insisted you were fine alone.
It was late now, around the time everyone went to bed at the hotel so you were expecting to silently creep inside, hobble to your room and take care of yourself in secret. And if anyone asked about the marks or bruises the next day, you’d just blame it on a wild night of partying. To your surprise, as you walk in the door the entirety of the hotel’s staff and residents were sitting on the floor and couches in the front room, drinking and talking by the fireplace. Of course, Charlie had everyone doing some bonding bullshit late at night. The sound of the door clicking open has everyone’s eyes looking towards you now. “Ah, shit…” Leaves your swollen lips as the crowd gasps and one by one, they all stand and approach your damaged figure. Finally, the one person you really didn’t want to see you like this comes rushing forward to get a good look at you.
Lucifer 🍎
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“Oh, Satan! (Y/N), are you okay? What happened? Ohhh, my poor angel!”
Proceeds to fuss and worry over you while wearing the saddest expression :,( his poor bb
Might actually cry a little…just hurts him to see his darling all banged up.
It’s not just the physical pain he senses, it’s the emotional pain you feel too- the fear and the trauma and the stress of it all
His hands just hover all around the most damaged parts of you- fingers almost touching your eye which was now swollen shut, his thumb ghosting over your busted bottom lip
Whisks you away to his room and runs you a bath. Gets you all clean and is probably still whining and crying over you as he watches the bath water turn red with all the blood washing off you and gets you ready for bed.
He’s an emotional man, okay?
He also feels extremely guilty for not being there to protect you. Even if you bluntly told him you don’t need his protection, he feels like it’s still his fault at least a little bit.
Miiiiiiight start a silly little argument over you never leaving the hotel or his side ever again lol
“I just want to protect you, my love. Please! Stop being stubborn.”
He’ll really really baby you tho.
Like even if your legs are working fine, NOPE! Don’t move an inch. Luci will carry you anywhere you desire.
“Lucifer, I just have a black eye and some scrapes. I can walk just fine, babe.”
And he’ll just ignore you and continue to coddle you and do everything for you
For sure this man peppers very gentle, very soft and slow kisses on your tender face once you’re cleaned up and finally resting in his bed
And he for sure cries again in the morning when he wakes up and your face looks even worse
Probably even panics a bit like-
“IM TAKING YOU TO A HOSPITAL OH MY SATAN!!! MY POOR BABY WWAAAA!”
“It’s just some bruises! Luci, they always look worse before they look better, I’m fine.”
Just calm him down with some kisses and words of love
Angel Dust 🕸️
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“Holy shit! What happened, babe? Oh no…this is bad. This is sooo bad! This is why we wanted to go with ya.”
Also gets very dramatic and concerned, looks so sad over your battle wounds
But of course he’s a flirt even under tough circumstances and can make a dirty joke even in the most dire situations
He’d definitely tell you you look hot asf and that you’re soooo brave~
Tries to lighten the mood a bit
“(Y/N), I wanna be the only one who gets to rough you up.” *pouts but also winks at you*
Angel has had his fair share of beatings courtesy of Valentino so he’s very good at first aid and knows tons of tricks to help with bruising, cuts, scrapes, preventing scars, relieving the pain.
He’s great at the clean up part but even better at the comfort part
Brings out all six arms to wrap you up in while you lay in his bed, cuddling up to you while offering soft kisses to the parts of you that aren’t so sore.
Angel is always down to fuck so if you’re feeling up to it, he’ll offer you some great sexual healing while being oh so careful of all your wounds and all the painful spots.
Will let you take control too, he hopes it’ll make you feel better and maybe return some of the confidence you lost from this scuffle.
He can spot a bruised ego from a mile away and he’ll do anything to get you feeling happy and secure again.
Also argues with you about never letting you go anywhere alone ever again lol he just loves you too much. If you’re gonna get jumped, he’s either gonna be there to help you out of it or he’s gonna be taking half the beating right next to you.
Reminds me of a song…
“I wanna walk with you, wherever you go to. I wanna hurt with you. Whatever you go through, I do too.” -sour switchblade by Elita
Yeah that’s Angel, just wants to be beside you no matter the circumstances
Husk 🃏
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“Oh, you dummy! This is why we wanted to go with you. Oh, doll face. Who did this? You alright?”
Yeah, he’s mean sometimes so he’s gonna scold you for going out alone before the comforting starts.
Ultimately, he doesn’t pull you away to get you cleaned up or anything. Lets you decide what to do next, where to go. He just follows you and keeps a hand on you somewhere to let you know he’s here for you.
Will whip up any drink you ask for in hopes of it relieving the pain a bit
But he’s sneaky, he’s gonna ask you tons of questions about what happened, who did it, where you were, how many of them there was. Won’t give you your drink until you answer him.
Husk is plottin and schemin, wanting to get back at the assholes who did this to you. Hes thinking about all the cool, little weapons he has and what he can do with them to teach those jerks a lesson.
In the end tho, he does get more sentimental and soft spoken later while cuddled up to you in bed.
He’ll purr softly in your ear while letting his hands gently roam your body, tracing comforting circles all over your bruised skin
Will def wrap you up in his silky wings and then proceed to pour out his entire heart to you.
“I love you. I’m so glad you’re okay. You need to listen to me. I know better than you, I’ve been down here a long time. You have to be more careful. I dunno what I’d do if I lost ya, doll. You gotta stick with me, I’ll always protect ya.”
Once you fall asleep, he wanders out to the lobby to find Angel at the bar and there they talk about teaming up to get revenge on the assholes who dared to touch Husk’s little babe
The next morning, of course they’re still talking about it. You’ll have to tell these idiots to stop and just let it go bc omg they sound crazy rn they’re gonna make a mess if you let this continue
Buuuut if you kinda like them fussing over you this much, then by all means let them do their thing as you sit back and enjoy the attention
Ooooh, Husky is getting maadddd. Kinda cute when he lets a protective growl slip out while talking to Angel. Aww he loves you~
Sir Pentious 🐍
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Immediate tears and full blown panic attack at the sight of your battered face.
“OH MY GOODNESSSSSS!!! My baby! My darling! Ohhhhhh, you poor thing, come here! I’ll take care of you.”
Doesn’t care that the entirety of the hotel residents are crowded around watching you two- Pentious holds you like a baby in his arms and carefully sinks to the ground with you, holding you so tight it actually kinda hurts due to all your bruises.
Cries for a while like this- goes back and forth between examining your bruises and cuts and bloody nose with his watery eyes to then burying his face in your neck as he weeps for you.
“Pen, I’m okay. Just a little banged up. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I CAN’T HANDLE IT!!! You’re too pretty to be beaten up like thisssss. Aawwwww.” And he’s crying even harder now.
And this goes on for a while until you finally decide to get up and go to your room with him to get cleaned up.
Babies the absolute fuck out of you- brings you food in bed and tries to feed it to you, gets you in the bath and refuses to let you touch anything while insisting he do all the work for you, carries you everywhere.
It’s actually so nice tho- he washes your hair for you real slow and firm as he scrubs your scalp, very carefully washes the dirt and dry blood from your skin only to reveal more bruises he hadn’t seen before, carefully applies ointment to your bloody cuts and scrapes
Listen…this man is not gonna stop crying until you are 100% healed up. Even the next morning, you wake up beside him to see his face wet with tears as he sniffles.
At least you know he really truly deeply cares for you and loves you 💚
“Oh, it’s okay, babe. I’m felling so much better today, especially since I get to start my morning in bed with you.”
And now he decides he’s gonna keep you in bed all day and continue to baby and pamper you
Keeps his tail and most of his body wrapped around you loosely all day as you watch movies and relax. Cant stop staring at your face and focusing on each blue and black bruise you wear, eyeing every cut and scrape and the split skin on your lip.
You took a beating and he thinks it’s only fair that you and him stay in bed until you’re truly feeling well enough to resume your normal daily tasks.
Of course, he has to stay with you in case you need something! Can’t leave his injured partner alone, wouldn’t dream of it!
Vox 🖥️
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(I know he’s not at the hotel, pretend you just walked into V Tower instead, k?)
REVENGE REVENGE REVENGE
“WHAT. THE. FUCK?! Who? Where? When? HOW FUCKING HOW DARE THEY-“
You’ll have to cut him off or he’ll go on an entire raging tangent about revenge and eventually short circuit lol
“Voxy, I’m okay. Don’t worry about it. I just wanna get clean and go to bed.”
He slowly cools off and begins to focus more on you and your injuries, asking if you’re okay or if there’s anything he can do. Now behind closed doors, his entire attitude changes.
He’s following you into every room, watching you with an expression of intense sadness and concern, wishing he could take all your pain and give it to himself instead. He’d suffer for you if it meant seeing you happy and healthy
Sits in the bathroom in silence but keeps you company while you wash up. He might ask if you need help but also wants to give you space and make sure you feel safe
Assists you in getting dressed while making it very romantic and being very attentive. Vox will so slowly slip your pajamas onto you while letting his claws ghost over all your bruises.
Will lean in and kiss your busted lips right as your head pops through the top of your shirt, followed by a smile and probably more kisses
Listen, most of these boys are gonna become way more over protective after this incident okay? Vox is most definitely not an exception
Insists that either He’s gonna be with you every where you go from now on or he’s gonna send security with you every where you go from now on.
And no matter who is with you when you’re out in the streets, his cameras will also be watching over you.
Oh yeah, and he goes back in the cam footage and has a perfect view of the whole incident. He watches it over a few times before ordering a hit on every sinner who dared to mess with his lover.
You’ll never have to worry or look over your shoulder or worry again 😘
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Alastor 🩸
Doesn’t say much or even stay long to worry about you at first.
He’s more angry and bent on revenge than anything. He’s worried about you too but he knows you’re strong and can take care of yourself.
He slips off to do some exploring and investigating to find out who did this to you
Spends maybe an hour figuring it out and then promptly goes on a murder spree to take care of all those pesky sinners who dared to lay a finger on his beloved
Okay, now that that’s out of his system, he can come back and take care of you.
Isn’t as cuddly and romantic as the others but he still babies you and refuses to let you do anything for yourself.
“Now now, darling. Just relax. I’ll have you cleaned up and feeling better in no time.”
Bathes you, dresses you, tucks you into bed all while humming slow tunes to you
Doesn’t cuddle you but sits on the bed beside you and gives your head some gentle pets
“You won’t have to worry any longer, my dove. I took care of those degenerates and I’ll never let you wander the streets of hell alone ever again.”
Will place a gentle kiss on your throbbing head before leaving you to rest.
He’s serious tho, anywhere you go he goes too. You’re never leaving his sight again ❤️‍🩹
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munson-blurbs · 1 year
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series
Summary: After moving to Hawkins to take care of your ailing grandma, you end up spending a wild night with Corroded Coffin's lead singer, Eddie Munson. When you uncover his true intentions, you have no desire to ever see him again, but fate--and his son, Harris--has other plans.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), fingering (f! receiving), oral (m!receiving), slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n
WC: 7.5k
Chapter 1/20
Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika
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Late August, 1996. 
July had come and gone so quickly, and you could sense it in the muggy air as the daylight dwindled away on the horizon of an orange colored sky. Your heels click along the parking lot pavement as you make your way into the dingy bar. Everyone told you that your twenties would be full of surprises, but no one warned you that those twists and turns would land you in Hawkins, Indiana. 
The neon sign reads The Hideout; well, really, it reads Th H deo t, and the “o” is starting to flicker. You’re not the only one who notices the building’s crumbling exterior. 
“Huh,” Jess says, crossing her arms over her chest. “This place seemed a lot cooler when I was in high school.” Still, she pushes open the door, where you’re immediately hit with the stench of cigarettes and beer. The floor is sticky with what you can only hope is spilled liquor, and you take a seat on a rickety barstool. 
“How did you even hear about this place?” you ask your new friend, tugging your dress so it covers a bit more of your thighs. You had one night out to yourself, and Jess was insistent on you making the most of it. 
“Used to come here all the time when I was, like, sixteen?” She wrinkles her nose. “They’re dirt cheap and they never card, so my friends and I used to get super wasted. Thought we were hot shit.” She flags down the bartender with a wave and a smile. “Anyway, you can’t live in Hawkins and not come to the Hideout at least once. It’s a tradition.”
The bartender, a woman who looks to be in her mid-forties, leans on the counter. “What can I get you ladies?” she asks. Her voice is raspy from what sounds like decades of chain smoking. 
You’re about to order a Bud Light, but Jess cuts you off. “We’ll each have a Hideout Special,” she says confidently. “Make hers a double.”
“Jesus Christ, are you trying to kill me? And what the hell is a Hideout Special?”
She waves off your concern. “Honestly, I have no idea. But it’ll get you buzzed fast.”
You reluctantly agree, sipping on something that tastes vaguely like a mixture of rum and vodka, with the pungency of rubbing alcohol. “That’s awful,” you grimace, and Jess just laughs.
“Yeah, they’re pretty rough going down. But you only have one night to yourself, and you’re gonna make the most of it.” She links her arm through yours, using her free hand to tilt the drink back up to your lips. “Now, drink up. The band’s gonna start playing soon, and you’ll need all the liquor you can get. Trust me.”
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Corroded Coffin, the band in question, is warming up in the back room. Tuesday nights   has been their slot since high school, and if their lead singer and guitarist has his way, it’ll be their slot until they’re too old to play. He’s tuning his ax, tongue poking out of his mouth in concentration, only looking up when he hears a faint “oh, shit,” come from his bandmate.
“Y’good?” Eddie asks, strumming gently to play a perfect A-chord.
“Yeah,” Jeff says, holding up a small black box. “Forgot I had this in my pocket; almost dropped it when I took off my jacket.”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “That’s what you get for wearing leather in fuckin’ August, dude.” He squints at the object in Jeff’s hand. “What is that, anyway?”
“A ring,” Jeff proudly announces. “I’m gonna ask Viv to marry me.” The big, goofy grin on his face makes Eddie’s stomach churn. He looks at Gareth and Danny, expecting similar disgusted reactions from them, but they’re both smiling, too. 
“Way to go, man!” Danny says, and Gareth claps Jeff on the back. “Our little Jeff is growing up.”
“Oh, fuck off, man,” Jeff says, but he’s laughing as he accepts the congratulations. He glances expectantly at Eddie, waiting for him to chime in. 
“You two’ve been together for a million years,” Gareth jokes, twirling a drumstick in his free hand. “What made you decide to take the plunge?”
Jeff’s eyes dart around the room. “Okay, I wasn’t supposed to say anything,” he starts, voice hushed, “but Viv’s pregnant!”
“Holy shit!” Danny sputters. “Dude, you’re gonna be a dad!”
“Yeah,” Jeff agrees incredulously. “Fuckin’ wild, isn’t it?” His gaze falls to Eddie. “Does the seasoned professional have any words of wisdom?”
An uncharacteristic silence fills the room. Eddie can feel their eyes burning a hole into his head. He knows what he should say, what Jeff wants to hear, but he can’t bring himself to feign happiness. “You don’t have to marry someone just because you knocked her up.” It comes out with a snarl, meaner than he’d intended. 
“Crazy thought, but have you considered that I actually want to marry her?” Jeff shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not all content being miserable hermits like you are.”
“Whoa, break it up,” Gareth tries, stepping between the two guitarists, but the conversation’s already too heated. 
“I’m not miserable, and I’m not a hermit,” Eddie counters. “I’m just not about to limit myself when there’s plenty of pussy in the sea.”
Jeff rolls his eyes. “Whatever, dude. Thanks for the well wishes.” Eddie can’t help but notice the flash of hurt in his eyes as he walks away. A small part of him feels bad, but he can’t shake the anxiety that unexpected change seems to bring.  
“So, what does this mean for Corroded Coffin?” he asks. “Should we consider this our farewell show?” He tries to ignore the irritated glares he’s getting from Gareth and Danny. It’s like the words fall from his mouth before his brain can process the damage they can do. 
“Obviously, once the baby comes, I’ll have to take a step back,” Jeff shrugs. “And I’m gonna try to work some overtime before it’s born. Save some extra money, y’know.” 
The room had been zapped of joy, and Eddie feeds off of the sullen atmosphere. “Nice commitment to the band,” he sneers. “Glad to see how easily your priorities change.”
“Yeah, man, you should try it sometime,” Jeff snaps. His fists clench, and he looks angry enough to throw a punch. “Maybe you’ll stop acting like an overgrown teenager.” 
Eddie’s about to fight back, jaw locked in place and eyes seeing red, but he’s temporarily grounded by the sound of the manager’s tired voice echoing from the ancient sound system.  
“Put your hands together for Corroded Coffin!” A smattering of applause signals their cue to enter. Eddie tries to shake off the conflict; it can be resolved after they play. The show must go on, or whatever it was that his high school drama teacher always said. 
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A balding man with a gruff voice introduces the band as Corroded Coffin. Jess’s eyes go wide; she’s already a few Hideout Specials deep and definitely feeling it.
“Oh, shit!” she laughs with a hiccup. “That’s my sister’s boyfriend’s band!” She motions to the bartender to pour her another drink, but you shake your head and just mouth water. The bartender gives you a knowing nod, probably grateful that she won’t have to be the one dealing with Jess tonight.
“Yeah, that’s Jeff!” Jess continues, pointing at a tall guitarist with tight curls. “He’s the one who knocked up Viv!” She cackles like she just made the most hilarious joke. “I totally forgot they were playing tonight.” She frantically waves at him, and he gives a small head nod in acknowledgment.
Your eyes are drawn to someone else: the lanky, ring-clad man who takes center stage. He grips the mic with black polished nails, smirking out into the crowd as he yells, “Hawkins, how’re we doin’ tonight?” The loudest cheers come from Jess, and you join in, letting out an obnoxious “woooooo!” in response.
The noise draws his attention, and you watch as his smirk shifts to something needier, hungrier, even. His big brown eyes land on you and Jess, leaving you momentarily breathless. He’s absolutely gorgeous, light stubble on his cheeks and above his plush lips. He’s wearing a white V-neck that shows off a dusting of chest hair. His torn black jeans hang low on his hips, accentuated with a studded belt. A gleaming pair of silver handcuffs are clipped to one of the loops.
“All right!” he calls back. “Well, this first one goes out to the pretty girl in the blue dress at the bar. Wait for me after the show, Sweetheart.” He counts out to four, and they launch into a cover of Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me.
It doesn’t even register until Jess nudges you, more forcefully than necessary, and says, “Hey, you’re wearing a blue dress!”
Oh. 
Oh. 
“Who…who is he?” you ask, feeling a warmth spread through your core that you’re sure isn’t from the alcohol. 
“That,” Jess says, leaning on you for balance, “is Eddie Munson. Total freak back in high school, but now he’s just got a reputation for being a freak in the sheets.” She throws you a clumsy wink and adds, “looks like you’ll get to find out for yourself tonight.”
“I’m not really a one-night stand kind of person,” you counter, internally cringing at the memories of your feeble attempts at hooking up, all of which inevitably ended with you pining after them pathetically. 
Jess rolls her eyes. “Come on,” she whines, taking note of the way you and Eddie can’t seem to tear your gazes from each other. “Your dad leaves tomorrow, and then you’ll be spending your nights taking care of your grandma. You gotta live a little!”
Plopping back down onto the barstool, you consider her sentiment. It’s true; once your dad goes back home, you’ll be the one helping out in the evenings. And the new school year starts next week, leaving you with little time for yourself. 
Your whole life has been spent helping others. You became a teacher to shape young minds and provide them with a safe place to learn and express themselves. You moved to a tiny town in the middle of Indiana to look after your grandma. Even now, you’re babysitting Jess and ensuring she doesn’t dehydrate instead of letting loose and ordering another drink. 
“Fine, but only if he brings it up,” you concede. “I’m not gonna be the one to make the first move.”
The band moves on to their next song; it’s either an original or one you’re not familiar with, but you find yourself dancing to the beat. Jess joins you, writhing her body in some kind of drunken jig that has you cackling. You’re having such a great time that you don’t even notice Eddie tripping over a few chords as he watches you sway your hips back and forth. 
Corroded Coffin plays for another forty minutes. You recognize some Metallica and Black Sabbath songs, headbanging along until you’re dizzy. The bartender slides you another drink—on the house, she insists—and you sip it eagerly, trying to quell your nerves. Eddie shouts out, “thank you, Hawkins!” and disappears backstage with the rest of the band. 
You can’t ignore the dejected pain in your heart, but you muster up a smile and turn to Jess. “Ready to get out of here?”
She shakes her head, putting her palm on the bar to steady herself. “You still have to wait for Eddie,” she teases. “You promised.”
You cock your eyebrow in amusement. “First of all, Drunky McWasted, I didn’t promise anything,” you say, “and second, show’s over and, uh, he’s not here.” You swivel around for emphasis. 
“Give him a fucking second, would ya?” The comment doesn’t come from your friend, and you turn around to see Eddie standing behind you. He’s got a towel around the back of his neck, mopping up the sweat from his performance. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail, and you can see the remnants of kohl eyeliner smudged around his lash line. “Had to clean myself up a little bit, damn.” He smiles, and you feel like you’re going to melt. 
Jess interrupts, pushing you closer to him. “Eddie, this is my neighbor.” When you still don’t say anything, too awestruck to introduce yourself, she tells him your name. 
Eddie nods, letting his fingers graze yours. “What’d you think of the set?” He grins at the bartender, who gives a small head bob and hands him a whiskey, neat. 
“It was good,” you manage, finally finding your voice. “I especially liked the song you dedicated to the pretty girl in the blue dress.” There. You flirted. The rest is up to him.
“Yeah?” He rests his forearm on the bar and leans over to take his glass. “Was kinda hopin’ you would. Soon as I saw you, I knew I had to shoot my shot.” His eyes flit over the low-cut neckline of your dress before he drags his gaze back to your eyes. “You new to Hawkins?”
“Mhm,” you say, watching as he fumbles with a pack of Newports. “I moved here to take care of my grandma.” Good going. Nothing turns a guy on like talking about your elderly relatives.
But Eddie’s unfazed. “Hot and nice? A lethal combo, if I do say so myself.”
“What about you?” you blurt out. “I mean, have you always lived in Hawkins?”
He shrugs. “Been back and forth. Came here when I was nine, left when I was twenty-two, then came back about four years ago.”
“What brought you back? Missed all the excitement?” You laugh and he gives a small smile, but an emotion you can’t pinpoint crosses over his face.
“Somethin’ like that,” Eddie mutters, popping a cigarette between his lips. “Wanna go outside an’ have a smoke with me?”
“I’d love to,” you say with an apologetic tone, “but I really don’t wanna leave her alone.” You motion to your friend, who is currently trying to convince the bartender to let her have another drink. But as soon as she hears you using her as an excuse, she waves you off.
“Go,” she insists. “I’ll be fine. ‘M gonna have Jeff take me back home.” She stands on her tiptoes, nearly falling over, flailing both her arms wildly when she spots Jeff in the crowd and shouting, “Jeffy! Jeffy, can you drive me home so these two can have sex?”
You feel your face heat up at her words as Eddie shakes his head incredulously, lips twisting into a cocky grin. The last thing Jeff wants to do after Eddie’s earlier tantrum is help him get laid, but he knows there will be hell to pay if he doesn’t watch after his inebriated sister-in-law-to-be.
“Yeah, sure,” he grumbles, carefully looping his arm around her waist and helps her to his car. He appears to deliberately avoid making eye contact with Eddie, though you don’t know why. The two of them seemed to be getting along just fine on stage. The rest of the band leaves with them, carrying various instruments. No one even acknowledges Eddie’s presence. 
“Uh, everything okay?” You can’t not pretend you didn’t notice; the tension is far too obvious.
Eddie brushes it off with another shrug. “Guys all got sticks up their asses, I dunno.” He pulls a black Bic lighter from his back pocket and motions towards the door, signaling your cue to walk out with him and drop the conversation.
Chirping crickets and a rowdy group of drunks shouting obscenities at each other punctuates the otherwise quiet atmosphere. Eddie looks at you expectantly, holding out his lighter, and you realize that he’s waiting for you to take out your own pack of cigarettes. A pack of cigarettes that you do not have.
“Oh, I, um, I don’t smoke,” you stammer, biting your tongue in irritation towards your own awkwardness. “I mean, I’ll smoke, like, socially, but I don’t carry cigarettes on me. Sorry.”
“Wanna bum one?” You pluck one from the pack and lean in as he lights it for you. The crisp inhale of tobacco lingers in your lungs for a moment before you breathe out, grateful that you didn’t cough like a middle schooler stealing cigs from her mom’s stash. You take another drag, watching as he does the same. You’d thought that there would be some level of conversation, but Eddie seems perfectly content smoking in silence.
“So,” you finally say, “how long have you been playing guitar?”
He chuckles and pushes his hand through his hair, stopping where it’s gathered into a hair tie. The perspiration on his forehead is starting to dry, but his bangs still stick to it. “Shit, gotta be twenty years now. Damn, I’m fuckin’ old.”
“How old are you?” It comes out more accusing than inquisitive, and you sharply inhale more nicotine to shut yourself up.
“Turned thirty last month.”
“Oh, that’s not old,” you reassure him. “I’m twenty-eight, so…not far behind.” 
He doesn’t say anything in response to this. Maybe you’d misread his intentions. Or maybe he’d lost interest after just a few moments alone with you. The pretty girl in the blue dress quickly becomes the lame girl in the blue dress, and you both return home unsatisfied.
You try again, this time saying something that warrants a response. “I just moved here last week, if you have any recommendations of places to go. Restaurants or something?”
Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, ‘s pretty boring around here.” 
End of conversation.
“Well, I should probably get home,” you say, shifting your weight onto your other foot and stubbing out your cigarette in the nearby ashtray. There’s no sense in wasting anymore time, and the nighttime chill is biting at your bare legs. 
“Wait, what?” Eddie practically does a double-take. “I thought…didn’t Viv’s sister say something about…”
Or maybe you’d read the situation correctly after all.
“You still want to?” 
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” He ashes his own cigarette, and the smirk returns to his face. “Your place or mine?”
Considering the fact that your place is currently housing an eighty-year-old woman with declining cognition, and your father, you quickly jump at the offer to go to his home. 
You walk with him to his car, a beat-up blue sedan. He opens the passenger door, and you thank him with a tight smile, still not sure what to expect. Maybe he’s just not into small talk, but he seems awfully closed off for a man who’s trying to get laid.
A tangle of tree-shaped air fresheners hang from the rearview mirror; they sway slightly as the two of you plop in your seats. Instinctively, you look behind you as he turns the key in the ignition. Nestled into the far left side of the backseat is a carseat. Cheerio crumbs are wedged in the crevices, and an empty sippy cup leans up against it.
“Is that a carseat?” It’s a dumb question; of course it’s a carseat, but you can’t bring yourself to be more blunt and ask if he has a kid. I mean, the guy couldn’t even tell you a single restaurant to go to.
“Oh. Yeah.” Eddie reaches around, placing a ringed hand on the back of your headrest as he backs out of the spot. He doesn’t elaborate on the matter, just speeds out of the parking lot, so you don’t push it.
The words, I love kids; I’m actually a preschool teacher, linger on your lips, but you bite them back. This is supposed to be casual, a one-night stand; you’re not trying to be anyone’s stepmother.
Eddie flicks on the radio to a metal station–of course–and you sit back and try to enjoy the ride. You can faintly hear him humming along to the music. The fingers on his left hand drum on the steering wheel, while his right hand finds its way to your upper thigh. Fuck, it feels good. He gently squeezes, and the sensation of his cold metal rings combined with his hungry touch makes you involuntarily press your legs together.
“Just wait, Sweetheart,” he laughs. “There’s more where that came from.” It’s probably the most he’s said to you all night, and you consider it a small win. You lean in and gently nip at his earlobe, grinning as he shivers at the contact.
“There’s more where that came from,” you echo, shifting back in your seat. Eddie looks at you, brows raised and forehead creased in amusement, but–big surprise–says nothing. He pulls into an apartment complex parking lot, swinging into the nearest available spot, and kills the engine. Without the music or the steady hum of the ignition, you’re suddenly plunged into complete silence. Are you really doing this? Going to a stranger’s apartment to have sex with him? What if he’s some sort of serial killer? But Jess knows him–sort of–and vouched for him, so he can’t be all bad, right? Although, Ted Bundy had friends, too…
Eddie clearing his throat disrupts your inner monologue, and you glance up at him shyly. “Sorry,” you mutter, though you’re not quite sure what you’re apologizing for.
“No biggie,” he says, like he’s used to women just spacing out in his car before they fuck him. “Um, y’ready to go inside?”
You nod, opening your door and carefully stepping out onto the uneven pavement. You wobble a little in your high heels, but you feel a hand on your lower back, steadying you. “Lemme help you,” he mumbles, lacing his fingers through yours and guiding you to the front door of the building. 
The two of you only make it to the stairwell between the first and second floors before he’s pouncing on you, your back against the cold concrete walls. His hands start on your waist, traveling upwards and lightly grazing your breasts before he’s cupping your face. His kisses are hungry, but not sloppy; when his tongue breaches your lips, you let him in without a second thought. He places his knee between your legs, just barely nudging it against your lace thong. “Fuck,” he hisses, pulling away from you and running his tongue over his teeth, “I need you, pretty girl.” 
You pout, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. “Can’t get naked until we’re in your apartment.” You pause before whispering in his ear, “and if you thought this dress looked good on me, wait till you see it on your floor.”
Eddie’s eyes widen. “‘S just another flight of stairs after this, yeah?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just takes your hand again and leads you to apartment 3C. There are a few Hot Wheels cars scattered on the ground, but he kicks them under the couch without further explanation. He sits down, adjusts his body on the soft beige cushion, and pats his lap. “Your throne,” he says cheekily, exposing tiny dimples on either side of his lips.
Wordlessly, you climb on top of him. Your dress bunches up as you straddle his waist, though that won’t be a problem much longer. You greedily grind your clothed pussy over the rough denim of his fly, sucking on his neck as his strong hands clasp the back of your thighs and pull you closer.
“Needy thing, hmm?” Eddie smirks, chuckling when you feign offense. “Where’re you going? ‘M just teasing you.” He sits up a bit, tugging one dress strap down and kissing the flesh between your neck and shoulder. “Maybe I read it wrong, but…y’look like a girl who likes to be teased,” he says, voice muffled by your skin. 
“N-No, I do. Like it,” you stammer, fumbling with the frayed hem of his shirt and lifting it over his head. You run your hands over the expanse of pale skin, admiring his tattoos. There’s one of a red guitar pick right above his left pec; without thinking, you kiss it gingerly. He lets out a quiet moan, unzipping your dress and helping you shimmy out of it. You’re not wearing a bra, and he nearly chokes on his own tongue when he sees you on display for him.
“Christ, baby,” he groans, “got the most perfect fuckin’ tits I’ve ever seen.” He kisses them and runs his thumbs over your pert nipples before briefly sucking on them. The nickname baby isn’t lost on you, but you try not to read into it. 
Still, there’s a sense of satisfaction at the way he’s crumbling literally beneath you, though you can’t help but snarkily say, “bet you say that to all the girls you bring back here.”
Eddie throws his head back and laughs, sending vibrations through your core. “Only the ones with perfect tits.”
You hate yourself for wondering how many perfect-breasted women there have been.
“Bedroom?” It’s all you can manage, already breathless from dry humping like a goddamn teenager on prom night.
Eddie hesitates before shaking his head, a curl falling loose from the hair tie. “Let’s just, uh, stay out here. Room’s kinda a mess.” The unsure expression on his face hints at another reason, but he quickly distracts you by pushing your panties to the side, slipping his middle finger into your aching cunt. “Holy shit. S’fucking wet already. I knew you were needy.”
“Y-Yes. Need you. Need more.” You’re already stretched out by one finger, but you’re dying to know how a second one feels. The more of him inside you, the better. He obliges, fucking you with his pointer and middle fingers while his thumb makes tiny, hurried circles against your clit. “That’s it, right…right there. Don’t stop; please don’t stop!” He brings you to your orgasm, smirking as you finish all over his fingers. 
Your rocking slows, and you reluctantly pull yourself off of him and sink to your knees. He’s unbuckling his belt as fast as he can, and you can’t help but notice the wet spot on his jeans right where you were grinding on his thigh.
Eddie’s pants and plaid boxers are around his ankles in a heartbeat. His hard cock rests against his stomach; a pearly bead of pre-cum leaks from the tip. “Let’s see what that cute little mouth can do, Sweetheart,” he muses, leaning back into the couch with his hands behind his head.
You bite your lower lip. “First I gotta clean you off, yeah?” you ask before licking the tip, tasting him. His length twitches at that minimal contact, which makes you giggle. “Just relax. Let me take care of you.” There’s no protesting, so you grasp the base of his shaft with one hand and cup his balls with the other. You suck on the head, circling it with your tongue, before taking as much of the rest of his cock as you can fit into your mouth. 
“Mmm, baby, yes,” he growls, inhaling sharply when you gently tug on his balls. “Thas’ a good girl. Play with my fuckin’ balls, just like that.” He bucks up his hips, bringing his cock even further down your throat. “Gag on it, baby. Gag on my big fuckin’ cock.”
He’s not wrong; at least, it’s the biggest of any guy you’ve ever been with. Hollowing out your cheeks, you increase your pace, letting your nose brush against his patch of dark curls. Saliva drips down your chin; you swipe at it clumsily and keep your focus on him. 
“Shitshitshitshitshit–FUCK!” Before you can even process what’s happening, Eddie pulls out of you. Thick, hot ropes of cum trickle down his right hand, and he buries his face in his left. You reach for a tissue and hand it to him, and he angrily wipes off his spend. 
“Gimme fifteen minutes, and I’ll be good to go,” he says, tossing the used tissue in a nearby wastebasket. He finds the remote tucked behind a couch cushion and clicks on the TV. An episode of Seinfeld comes on. “You’ll do,” he mutters, plopping down next to you and poorly stifling a yawn.
“Sleepy?” you tease, wrapping your naked chest in an itchy wool blanket and curling up. He doesn’t put his arm around you, or make any attempt to cuddle, so neither do you.
“Nah, ‘m fine.” But nearly five minutes later, while Jerry and Elaine argue about God-knows-what, you can hear Eddie softly snoring next to you.
“Eddie,” you whisper. No response, so you try a little louder. “Eddie!”
“Huh? What?”
“I can, uh, I can go now. I’ll call a cab. Just need your address.” You start to get up and head for the phone hanging on the wall, but he puts an arm out to stop you.
“‘S’okay. Stay for a bit, baby.”
Stay for a bit, baby.
It almost feels like you’re taking advantage of him; his curt conversations and closed-off demeanor earlier in the night indicated that he was not looking for someone to sleep over. But now he’s asking you to stick around, resting his head on your shoulder and letting one tattooed arm drape over your waist. You let him stay there, trying your best not to wake him, but you’re forced to reach over him to grab the remote when an infomercial starts blaring.
“C’mere,” he mumbles, half-asleep as he lays down and scoots himself as far back as he can. You follow his lead, pressing your back against his bare chest. Your eyelids flutter shut, and you find yourself drifting off while wrapped in the warm embrace of this handsome stranger.
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RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!
You’re startled awake by a loud, unfamiliar noise that doesn’t sound like your alarm clock. 
RRRRIIIINNGGG! RRRRIIIINNGGG!
Eddie jolts up, almost knocking you off the couch. “Shit, didn’t think you were still…” He turns towards the ringing sound, still confused. “What time is it?!” His eyes widen as he gets a look at the clock, which reads 7:19. “Shit, shit, shit! Son of a bitch!” 
He practically flies off of the couch, sprinting to the phone and bringing the receiver to his ear. “Wayne? Yeah, I’m sorry…overslept. I can be there in ten…no, you don’t have to do that, I’ll just…okay, okay, fine. See you soon.” He hangs up with a clank, turning back to you. 
You’re just sitting on the sofa, still wearing nothing but your underwear and the blanket. “Everything…um, is everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he says, but he lets out an overwhelmed sigh. “Let me help you find your dress.” He doesn’t say it aloud, but the real meaning behind his words seeps through: you should leave.
You nod, feeling the all-too recognizable lump in your throat. It happens any time these shared intimate moments come to an end; the realization of just how temporary you are in someone’s life is a punch to the stomach.
You find the bunched blue garment behind the couch and slide it over your head. The fabric feels stale and cold against your skin, like it doesn’t belong to you. Eddie’s only wearing his boxers, and you catch yourself staring at the collection of tattoos that trail down his arms and torso.
“Like what you see?” He laughs when you duck your head, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks as he walks towards you. “C’mon, don’t be shy. Not after that little show you put on for me last night.” He leans down, tilting your chin up to him and kissing you softly. “Before you go, leave your number, yeah?”
That makes you roll your eyes. “Oh, please,” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest.
“What?”
“Don’t ask for my number if you’re not gonna call,” you say. You sling your bag over your shoulder as you walk to the door. “We don’t have to do the whole song-and-dance. We can just, y’know, leave this as a one-night stand.”
Eddie chuckles incredulously. “You wound me, Sweetheart,” he says. “‘Course I’m gonna call you. How could I not wanna see a girl as beautiful as you again? ‘Sides,” he adds slyly, “We didn’t even get to the best part.”
Begrudgingly, you write your number on a nearby notepad. The phrase don’t get my hopes up for nothing sits on the tip of your tongue, but you bite it back.
You’re halfway down the stairwell when you remember that you never called a cab. There’s no way in hell that you’re going to clamber back up to the third floor and ask Eddie to use his phone–and get his address–so you continue down to the lobby payphone and dial Jess’s number.
“H-Hello?” a man’s sleepy voice picks up on the third ring.
“Uh, Jess?” It’s clearly not your neighbor, but you have no idea what else to ask. Did she find some skeezy guy to bring home from the Hideout last night? 
“Nah, it’s Jeff. Who’s this?” When you say your name, he hums in acknowledgment. “Oh, yeah. From the bar, right?”
“Yeah…is Jess there?”
He yawns into the receiver. “Last I checked, she was asleep. Finally. She spent half of last night puking her guts up. Everything okay?”
“Mhm. I was just wondering if she could pick me up from…um, from Eddie’s.” You cringe at your admission; the last thing you want is for Eddie’s bandmates to think that you’re some kind of pathetic groupie.
But Jeff seems unfazed. “I’ll be right there.” Before you can protest, he hangs up. 
You catch a glimpse of yourself in the glass-door reflection. Your hair is a mess, and there’s smudged makeup around your eyes and lips, like a billboard for the walk of shame.
Jeff pulls up a few minutes later, and you bashfully climb into the passenger seat. “Thanks,” you mumble, trying not to let your humiliation show through.
“Yeah, well,” he shrugs as he pulls onto the main road, “it’s a special occasion.” When you pinch your eyebrows together in confusion, he laughs. “Ed never lets a girl stay over. Not sure what you did–don’t wanna know, to be honest–but you must’ve made quite the impression.”
“Didn’t mean to,” you say quietly. “We both fell asleep after…yeah. We only woke up when we did because some guy named Wayne called.”
Jeff nods knowingly. “That’s his uncle. He watches his son on Tuesdays when we have our gigs.” 
His…son?
Jeff must notice the stunned expression on your face, and his cheeks flush pink. “Shit, he didn’t tell you about Harris?”
“We didn’t do much talking,” you reply wryly. “I’ll have to ask him about that when he calls.”
“Christ,” Jeff shakes his head. “Hate to be the bearer of bad news, but he’s not gonna call. Never does. Calls it the ‘Cat-and-Mouse.’”
“The what?” Your throat goes bone-dry. You should’ve trusted your intuition, denied giving him your number, left it as a one-time thing.
“He brings a girl back to his place, has sex with her and asks for her number, but doesn’t call. When she shows up to the bar the next week, all insecure and wondering if he’s still interested, he acts like he’s been so busy, apologizes profusely, and strings her along until she catches on. Then it’s onto the next one.”
You feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest. Bile burns at the back of your esophagus, and you have to blink back tears. How could you be so stupid, so naive? Didn’t you know by now that guys like Eddie Munson are only after one thing?
The two of you sit in silence until he pulls up to your building. “Thanks,” you say finally, “for the ride and for the warning.” Jeff just nods, watching to make sure you get inside before driving off. As soon as he’s safely down the road, you burst into tears. Angry at Eddie, but mostly angry at yourself.
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Eddie watches from his window as you get into a car–Jeff’s car–and leave. Great, he thinks, I’m sure I’ll get my ass handed to me at our next practice for fucking around with his sister-in-law’s friend. If we even still have a band, anyway.
Throwing on a pair of dark gray sweatpants and an undershirt, he makes his way downstairs just as Wayne and Harris arrive. His son is leaping out of his carseat to get to him.
“Daddy!” Harris flashes a gigantic smile. His dark brown curls are a tangled mess atop his head. Eddie unbuckles him and wraps him in a giant hug. He’s losing the chubbiness of his baby fat, but he’s still sweet and cuddly.
“Har-Bear!” Eddie laughs. “Did you say goodbye to Grampa Wayne?” Harris encircles Eddie’s waist with his legs, reaching out his arms to give Wayne a hug through the window.
“Sorry again,” Eddie says sheepishly. “Fell asleep and forgot to set the alarm.”
“Got a job yet? A real one?” Wayne asks stoically, ignoring his nephew’s apology.
A storm cloud washes over Eddie’s face. “I’ve told you a million times: nothing’s going to pay the bills as well as working for Rick.”
Wayne rolls his eyes. “Get a job,” he says pointedly, pressing a kiss to Harris’s cheek before lowering his voice and growling at Eddie, “and wipe the damn lipstick off your neck, for Chrissake.”
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Jeff’s right: Eddie never calls. The home health aid that takes care of your grandma during the day informs you at the end of each shift that week that no one named Eddie called for you. And while you can’t say you’re shocked, it doesn’t do much to quell the hurt.
You spend as much time as you can preparing your classroom for the new school year. By the time you’re finished, the room is decorated to look like a jungle. Stuffed animals of lions, monkeys, and different birds line the shelf tops, which are packed with various books and art supplies. Your walls are decorated with different posters, all of which encourage kids to be their best. 
The hustle and bustle of the first day of school helps keep your mind off of your personal life. With a thermos full of hot coffee, you happily introduce yourself to your teaching assistant, Will. He’s a sweet guy, a few years younger than you, and he’s practically bursting with games to teach the kids.
“Before I forget,” he says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper, “I picked up our roster from the office on my way in. Looks like we have ten kids this year.”
“You’re the best,” you tell him gratefully, and he starts putting tiny chairs around tiny tables.
Being new to town, you don’t expect to recognize any of the names on the list. There’s an Abigail Carver, a Joshua Harrington…
And a Harris Munson.
“No fucking way,” you muse, apparently a bit louder than you’d intended, because Will’s head snaps up and he swivels in your direction. “Sorry.”
The sounds of bubbly giggles and excited chatter filing into the hallway grab your attention. One by one, parents start dropping off their kids, kissing them goodbye. There are tears–some from students, some from parents–and you’re quick to reassure everyone that school will be so much fun.
You’re just grabbing the sign-in sheet for Mr. Carver to fill out when you feel a small thump against your legs. When you look down, you see a curly-haired boy staring up at you with wide, brown eyes. 
“This is my classroom!” he says matter-of-factly, pointing to the number 3 on the door. “My name’s Harris. Like the guy from Iron Maiden!” He jumps up and down as he speaks. “Are you my teacher?”
“I am.” You smile and introduce yourself, peering towards the door. “Harris? Did a grown-up drop you off?” And please tell me his name is Wayne, you silently plead. 
“Oh, yeah! My dad has my backpack!” He starts running back to the hallway, only to crash right into Eddie. 
“Little dude, you can’t be running off like—” Eddie stops mid-sentence when his eyes land on you. “Oh, shit.”
You set your jaw, willing yourself to stay strong. He’s on your turf now. 
“Mr. Munson, you need to watch your language,” you warn crossly. 
“Yeah, sorry,” he mutters, handing Harris’s backpack to him. “I packed him a snack, um, and a juice box.”
“Okay,” you nod, crouching down to Harris’s eye level and injecting enthusiasm into your voice. “Can you find your cubby? It’s the one with your name on it!”
The little boy bounds over to his assigned spot, hanging his bag on the hook before running over to play with blocks. 
Forced to interact with Eddie, you press up on your knees and say, “Pick-up is at two.”
“Can I say goodbye to my kid before you kick me out? Jeez,” he grunts, calling out to Harris with his arms wide open. Harris hugs him, half-heartedly promising to be on his best behavior before starting to race back to the toys. 
“We walk in the classroom,” you tell him sweetly. “That way, people don’t hurt each other!” You make a point to look over at Eddie when you say the last part, though his gaze is trained on the classroom posters. Harris, innocent and oblivious, walks hurriedly towards the group of kids playing with blocks. 
“Didn’t know you were my kid’s teacher,” Eddie remarks, pressing his tongue into his cheek. 
You shrug. “Maybe I would’ve told you if you called me.”
Shooting you the wide eyes that he passed down to his son, Eddie lets his lower lip jut out in a little pout. “I’m so sorry; life’s just been, like, crazy lately—”
“Exactly what Jeff said you’d pull,” you bite back. “Two PM, Mr. Munson.” You walk towards your students to begin circle time, leaving Eddie dumbfounded. 
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After a long day of wrangling ten four-year-olds, you’re ready to go home and take a nap. The kids are gathered around the table, molding Play-Doh and giggling amongst themselves. By 2:10, everyone’s been picked up. Except for Harris.
“Typical,” you mutter, kneeling next to the boy and smiling sweetly. “Whatcha making, Harris?”
He holds up a lump of the yellow clay. “A dinosaur, see? Roar!” You fake being scared, and he laughs. “Don’t worry; it’s just pretend!”
“Oh, phew!” You wipe imaginary sweat off of your brow. “I was afraid that he was gonna eat me!”
Harris reaches over to where one of the other students had been sitting and plucks a handful of blue Play-Doh off of the table. “Wanna play with me?” He’s looking at you adoringly, and you can’t possibly turn him down.
Just as you’re about to join him, Eddie runs into the room. “Hey, buddy! Sorry I’m late. Got, uh, caught up with something.” 
Harris just shrugs, unaffected by his dad’s tardiness. “S’okay. Look!” He holds up the dinosaur proudly, giving another ferocious roar.
“That’s awesome! And super scary.” Eddie ruffles Harris’s curly hair before looking at you. “Can we talk for a sec? Out there?” he asks, gesturing to the hallway.
You huff out a sigh. “Fine,” you concede, and Will slips into the chair next to Harris. 
Eddie closes the door behind him. “Listen,” he begins, twisting his rings around his fingers, ”about the other night…” He trails off, and for a split second, you think he might offer a genuine apology. “I just don’t want this to affect how you treat Harris.”
You bark out an incredulous laugh. “You really think I treat my students any differently based on whether or not I like their parents?” Crossing your arms, you turn back towards the door, throwing out a pointed, “I think it’s best if you leave now.”
Eddie’s voice draws you back into the conversation. “I’ve never had this problem before,” he snorts. 
“Excuse me?”
“Most girls love the thrill of the chase. The will-he, won’t-he. Haven’t struck out yet,” he retorts, a smug grin spreading on his face. 
You roll your eyes. “Well, I’m honored to be the first. I don’t know what girls are into your pathetic games, but I’m certainly not one of them. So, please, just go before you say something else ridiculously stupid.”
Eddie bristles at that, standing a bit straighter and clenching his jaw. “Yeah, whatever,” he mutters, twisting the doorknob and punctuating his frustration with, “Frigid bitch.”
He’s just trying to get under your skin, and you refuse to let him get the best of you. You plaster on a well-practiced fake smile. “If you don’t think that this classroom is a good fit for Harris, you can request a transfer with the office.”
“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart,” he snaps, yanking the door open so aggressively that it smacks into the wall. “We’ll be out of your hair by tomorrow.”
“Can’t come soon enough.”
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