“is Something Wrong With Me?” | E. Munson

i don't wanna be on my phone but i need my phone to figure out where i'm going on a walk and i need my phone to get to my audiobook and i need my phone to call my brother and i need my phone to get in touch with my friends which is fine but i don't want to be on my phone.

so i walk and that's fine and i'm using the phone in an okay-way in that moment. but sometimes i am using the phone like it is a weapon and that's stupid because no it's not. ive seen a weapon those are different this is a phone. but it's also in my hands until 2 AM and i haven't slept. at 4AM. i don't even mean to do it half the time i'm opening the phone to check the weather or to check my email which are things-that-are-okay but then i am in my phone for hours somehow, and i missed the dawn while i was on instagram. i don't even like instagram.

i don't want to be on my phone im not good at it so i try to put distance there but then i'm distancing myself from my friends. we meet up in person but my pictures are on my phone and the menu is on the phone (mon dieu) and so is venmo. so i need the phone to be with my friends and that's fine because it can record concerts and fun activities and i can take pictures of them smiling with pumpkins.

but i don't want to be on the phone because i go to look at the pictures of the pumpkins and i hate how i look in it but it's fine. and somewhere between the pumpkins and 3AM i have lost so much time. i don't even know what i'm doing on it only that i don't enjoy it any longer. it is this long blank void. forever and ever. restless like how mushrooms feel restless beside a dead body.

i don't want to be on my phone so i pick up the phone and i type into google things to do in my area and i save them to my phone and i'll need my phone to get to the tickets and i'll need my phone to book the appointment and i'll need it, i'll need it

sometimes it physically pains me to hold back my sarcastic comments 

60′s-80′s “Halloween Sale” newspaper typography (via: newspapers.com)

November 14, 1956:

Elvis was on vacation in Las Vegas, Nevada, from November 10 to 18, 1956.

From the Long Beach Press Telegram, November 15, 1956:

“Liberace and Elvis Presley, two of the world´s highest paid entertainers, staged an impromptu act for nothing early today after Liberace’s night club appearance.

Presley was in the audience at the Riviera Hotel as the piano-playing television idol went through his performance, and after the last show ended he went back to Liberace´s dressing room.

With only a slight amount of urging from photographers and publicists, Liberace exchanged his gold sequined jacket for Presley´s striped sports coat, and from there it was only a short step to an exchange of musical instruments.

Elvis sat down at the piano, and Liberace picked up a guitar, and in no time at all a rock´n´roll session was under way. It lasted about 30 minutes with some 200 persons jammed around the pair as they performed.

Said one observer: ‘Elvis played a mean piano, but Liberace said he was an amateur on the guitar - and he sounded like one.’

Said Liberace: ‘Elvis and I may be characters - he with his sideburns and me with my gold jackets - but we can afford to be.’”

EIGHTEEN, CRAZY (Part IV/?)

"Corroded Coffin"

Summary: With her highschool experience coming to an end, Y/n finally grows tired of her parents' long lasting effort to make her the perfect girl; if they refuse to let her live her best life, she'll make them live their worst— and what can possibly be worse than having your lovely daughter mingling with Eddie Munson?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Genre: mostly fluff/fake dating

Tags:

Eighteen, crazy: @greetings-and-salutations @ozdramaqueen

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: probably just language? Damn

A/N: this one's a little bit longer but it's fine bc we get a glimpse of corroded coffin and we love that. I saw someone name Unnamed Freak #1 Grant bc of the actor, so we're sticking with that. Enjoy<3

Prologue Part I Part II Part III

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

"—and when I tell you she was ruthless... Ugh." Lizzy's eyes rolled back in annoyance, fingers carding throw her hair to move it out of the way as we walked the halls in her locker's direction. "Anyway, my point is, you made the right choice by not coming to Tina's yesterday."

"Not much of a choice there, was it?" I corrected her, keeping my eyes front. "I had to tutor Eddie."

A single amused laugh left my friend's mouth. "He's a bit of a nightmare, isn't he?" Before I could agree with her, Lizzy pointed at four punk boys idling near Ms. O'Donnell's classroom. "Speaking of the devil."

To the blonde's surprise —and mine—, I jogtrotted to the group until I was at arm's reach and tapped Eddie's back, until then turned to us.

"Hey!" He seemed taken aback by my cheerful demeanor and took him a painfully long instant to snap out of the confusion and jump into character, a toothy grin tugging on the corners of his mouth as he turned his body to face me.

"Well good morning, m'lady." Stealing a quick look at his friends, I wondered how much they knew about our arrangement. Taking in consideration their distrustful visages, probably not a lot. "Hey, Lizzy."

My head spun to see my friend, who had caught up with my quick pace, and was now subtly waving her hand at the metalhead.

"How was the test?" I inquired, returning my attention to Eddie.

"Oh?" He shifted awkwardly in place, clearly not expecting my question. "It was good, I... think? Dunno, I don't wanna jinx it." He grimaced, scratching the back of his neck. "I'll get the grade next week."

"I'm sure it'll be a good grade." I reassured him with a genuine smile. "Next time we should start studying earlier, though. Not just, you know," I vaguely gestured with my hand. "The day before."

"Yes, ma'am." He teased, leaning forward for a second, only to retreat back fast as lightning, undecipherable brown irises staring straight into my own. "Is that it or...?"

"Uh, yeah." I gave him a short nod with pursed lips. "Yes, that's it."

After a second of awkward silence, I cleared my throat and excused both me and Lizzy before waving the boys goodbye.

"There was absolutely no need to make it that awkward." Lizzy commented in a whisper.

"Shut up, okay?" I mumbled mortified, fighting the urge to run into the nearest bathroom and die because what the fuck was that.

We didn't get far before my name was called from the history classroom's door, loud enough to be heard above the usual hubbub caused by the seniors and underclassmen.

"Y/n! Hey!" In a couple of strides, Eddie was once again in front of me, looking as fidgety as I had ever seen him. "Hi. Again." With a nervous titter, his bravado demeanor was completely gone, so much that he averted his gaze from mine. "Uhm... You know, I'm— I'm in a band?" He questioned more than stated, folding his arms over his chest.

"Yeah, Liz told me." I credited my friend, pointing my thumb at her.

"Nice, so" He shot a silent cry for help to what I figured were his friends. "We gig at The Hideout on Tuesdays, at 10pm."

"Really? That's really cool."

"Yeah, pretty cool," he finally gathered the courage to make eye contact. "we actually got a crowd of five... Drunks." After tearing a laugh out of me, his shoulders began to relax. "You should come see us. If you want."

"Oh." Oh. My face tightened, sympathy getting in the way of rejection. "Actually," Already knowing the answer, Eddie's shoulders slumped. "We got a Calc test tomorrow and I kinda suck at it so—"

"That's okay." He gave me an understanding nod, shoving his hands on his back pockets. "I was—"

"You said you play every Tuesday?" I cut him off, brewing what I knew to be a crazy idea in my mind.

"Yeah, every Tuesday. Unless it gets cancelled."

"Well, don't cancel the next one." The ghost of a coy smile appeared on my face at his wide eyed expression.

"Alright, we gotta go." Lizzy announced, situating herself behind me to push me forward. "Bye Ed."

"See you, ladies."

One Week Later

"Y/nnnn!" I barely had time to close my locker and turn at the singsong sound of my name before two ring clad hands spun me around, making me squeal in the process. "Y/n, my beloved, my sweet darling, my saving grace." He listed the titles with unnecessary dramatism and a lot of gesticulation with both of our hands, as he held my palms on his own.

A confused giggle escaped my lips, unknowingly returning Eddie's touch by rubbing the back of his hand with my thumbs. "Okay, what's going on?"

He halted his movements, letting go of me to dig in his backpack. After shuffling through it, he pulled out a piece of paper with a cocky grin. "I got a C+ in Ms. O'Donnell's." He announced, chin tilted up while he handed out proof of his words.

Effectively, a big 'C+' had been written and circled in red ink on the top corner of the sheet. "WHAT? OH MY GOD!" My chest unreasonably swelled at the grade, wide eyes ping-ponging between the test and Eddie's toothy smile. "That's great, that's actually great. Well done Eddie!" Without thinking twice, I threw my arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a quick, euphoric hug.

Even though he was quick to hide it, I didn't fail to notice the initial sheepishness taking over Eddie once I pulled away. "Gotta give you some credit for putting up with me, huh?" He pointed out in a joking manner.

"We should go celebrate." I suggested, spinning to shut the locker, which had been left open behind me.

"No can do." Eddie let his shoulder fall on the row of lockers in order to re-enter my visual field. "Got band practice and then—"

"The gig at The Hideout, yeah."

"You remembered." The boy seemed somewhat surprised. "You coming?"

"I'm thinking about it." I tried my best to play contemplative and hold back the suggestive smile. It's supposed to be a surprise, I reminded myself, mirroring Eddie's posture.

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

"Jesus Christ!" I could see my best friend's grimace reflected on her vanity mirror, in front of which she sat retouching her eyeshadow. "Gag me with a spoon."

"Don't be mean, Linda." I chastised her from the heavily cushioned bed, helping Lizzy pick up her Calc notes that, with any luck, would get me from a D- to a B.

"Is this, like, important to you?" George questioned from the rug without looking at us, eyebrows furrowed at his notebook.

"It's part of the deal." I lied. Why did I lie?

"Oh, spare me." Liz snorted, inquisitive eyes digging holes into my elusive frame. "You're dragging that excuse now."

"Okay, it's not a part of the deal! So what?!" I glared at my friends in vexation, slamming the notes on the mattress. "He's putting up with so much shit lately, so forgive me if I wanna do something nice for him."

A tense silence flooded Linda's bedroom, which was broken as soon as a swift exchange of glances took place among my friends.

"I'll phone Steve." Linda began. "See if he can help."

"I can call Tina." Lizzy followed.

"Someone's gotta make sure none of Tommy H's friends show up so," George sighed, finally rising from the floor. "I guess that's me."

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

"Why?"

"Oh, I just wanna know if I have to practice extra hard later." I tilted my head at his playful tone, unable to tell if he was joking or not.

"Well I—"

"Eddie, c'mon! We gotta get going, dude!" A passerby's hand yanked the long-haired boy's sleve, making him roll his eyes.

"Alright, sweetheart, duty calls." He took a step forward and planted a soft kiss on my temple before taking off while I stayed helplessly frozen in place. "see you around!"

It took a good minute for my body to start functioning again, and when it did, my face felt burning hot. God, I hated it.

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

EDDIE'S P. O. V.

"EDDIE!!"

I seethed at Gareth's voice, pausing my motions when I heard his quick steps coming my way from the inside of the bar.

I had used the establishment's back door —as per usual before every gig— to go out, tune my guitar and have a smoke. It was my little ritual, a brief but effective alone time moment before the show. Apparently, not even that was allowed.

"What." I spat at the youngest bandmate, throwing the cigarette to the concrete and stepping on it.

"It's— they're— there's—" I frowned at his stuttering and the way he frantically motioned into the bar with his drumsticks. "Jeez, just— you gotta see it. C'mon!" He urged, gesturing me to follow him back in, which I reluctantly did.

I was about to tell him off for interrupting my routine for something stupid, but then we turned the corner to get to the poor excuse of a stage we played on and I froze.

There was, objectively, a lot of people —and I mean a lot—, most of them around our age; considering we usually played for five to seven middle aged men... Well, the current situation was a bit overwhelming at the very least.

"I think your girlfriend brought them." Gareth whispered, trailing after me while I climbed up to where Jeff and Grant stood confused.

I couldn't find it in myself to face the crowd just yet, so instead of skimming our incoming audience, I asked, "Y/n's here?"

"Uh... Yeah." Grant bobbed his head at where the bar counter was, prompting me to look. I peeked over my shoulder and instantly met Y/n's gaze. She gave me a timid wave, which I returned with a snort because why on earth did she look nervous? It was us performing in front of classmates that called us freaks in the high school halls.

"Okay. Listen up." I leaned into my bandmates, hanging the strap of the guitar across my chest so I could clench and unclench my fists in an attempt to rid myself off the anxiety. "This may be new, but a crowd is a crowd; doesn't matter if it's five people or fifty, alright? We're performers. We perform. Got it?" They all gave me a swift, resolved nod. "Don't get nervous and don't fuck it up. We got this."

There was a wave of murmured agreement preceding our retreat to our respective spots on the stage, which left me at the very front, exposed to all those eyes.

"Alright, guys." I spoke into the mic. I refused to sound somewhat shy or unsure, and therefore overcompensated by raising my voice as much as I could without screaming. "This is Corroded Coffin. I hope you're ready to rock, 'cause we sure as hell are." I shot a look over my shoulder at my three friends, who gave me their unanimous approval.

Breathe in, breathe out.

"Y/n!" The girl shot me a panic-stricken look, eyes going comically wide when I turned all the attention to her. "This one's for you."

I couldn't help the amused grin tugging up the corner of my lips when I heard the nosey, unintelligible whispers that followed my shameless wink at the blushing mess of a girl Y/n had turned into.

Oddly enough, that granted me the confidence I needed to shred my guitar.

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

READER'S P. O. V.

Only good things had come out of the gig, I thought to myself as everyone began to exit the place in order to return to their respective cars.

Eddie got his big crowd —who enjoyed the music more than they'll ever admit—, I had the privilege to see him play guitar, and people had approached me at least five times to ask me to congratulate my 'boyfriend' for his guitar solo, which I was gladly going to do.

The bar was still reasonably crowded when I approached the stage. While two of the band members helped the drummer dismantle his instrument, Eddie picked up the amplifiers and sends at the edge, which situated him just in the right spot to see me walk towards them.

"Hey there, sweetheart." He greeted me, crouching for us to be eye to eye.

"That was amazing."

Eddie motioned at the wide open front door, through which the multitude of classmates could still be seen by the cars. "You brought them all?"

I shook my head no, a smile escaping my lips are Eddie's raised brows. "I just... spread the word. Live music at The Hideout every Tuesday."

The boy before me observed my form with a mildly squinted, undecipherable gaze that made me both want to hide and get lost in his dark eyes.

"Are you gonna go home now?"

"I mean," I tittered nervously, toying with the hem of my short skirt. "I wasn't supposed to be out at all."

Eddie visibly pondered something, his lost irises landing on his black combat boots. "Okay hold on." Placing the wires and amps on the side, he climbed off the stage, adjusting his belt before letting his hand dig into every single one of his jeans' pockets until he found the keys to his van. He whistled at his bandmates until he drew the attention of one of them. After throwing him the keys, Eddie's focus returned to me. "Can't leave them stranded."

"Stranded?"

"I'm walking you home." He clarified, intertwining his fingers with mine in order to pull me close to his side and drape an arm over my shoulders. "C'mon, m'lady. Got a long walk ahead of us."

And just like that, we walked out of The Hideout, waving my friends goodbye and trying not to snicker at the looks everyone gave us while we crossed the parking lot.

Only when he considered we were completely out of sight, Eddie put some distance between us, making me miss the warmth of his body.

We walked in silence for a good while until sneaking glances at each other and flashing smiles wouldn't cut it anymore.

"So," Eddie began, eyes glued on the pavement and hands on his pockets while his foot kicked a rolling stone. "What'd you think? Did you like it?"

It took me a second to understand he meant the music. "Oh! Yeah, I think it was awesome! Weird, but awesome." He echoed my sentence in low, amused voice, the ghost of a smile making his dimples show. "You know? You looked a bit like uh..." I'm snapped my fingers repeatedly with a focused frown. "What's his name? Ugh!"

"I'm kinda scared of the comparison you're about to make." Eddie quipped.

"Why? I'm sure you know him." I groaned, pulling on the strings of my memory in hopes of remembering his name. "Lizzy has a crush on him. This one guitarist—" I clapped my hands, doing a little jump on the spot. "Eddie Van Halen!"

"Oh." Eddie's eyes went wide. "Wait, really?"

"Yeah. Oh my God, are you blushing?"

"Pfft no I'm not." He unconvincingly stated, his voice going up an octave. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything." I breathed out an amused laugh, raising my hands in surrender.

"You don't have to, I hear your thoughts." He whispered, pulling a caricaturseque scary face whilst bending in my direction.

"Creep." I playfully shoved his arm, earning a cackle from him.

"Lizzy has a crush on Eddie Van Halen?" I hummed affirmatively and he clicked his tongue, tilting his head to the side. "The lady's got taste."

"I think she might have a crush on you too."

"You think so?"

"I mean... You look a bit like him. And you play guitar." I pointed out, motioning at his fit and guitar, strapped to his back. "Liz loooves guitarists." I shrugged, putting my hands behind my back. "If you want, when this is over, I can set you guys up."

"Nah." Eddie shook his head no, eyes falling back down from me to his boots. "Lizzy's cool and all, but I don't mingle with the popular crowds. Oil and water."

"You mingle with me."

"Yeah, 'cause we got a deal."

"Uhm Y/n?" Eddie spoke again refusing to walk in silence for another couple of minutes. "tell me something about you."

Ouch.

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I just stayed quiet, forcing myself to ignore Eddie's inquisitive irises on me and choosing to observe the poorly lit suburban street instead. Luckily, we were close to my house.

"Something like what?"

"Dunno, favorite book?" I quirked a brow at the metalhead and he sighed, overtaking me to walk backwards before me. "We're supposed to be 'dating', and if someone asked me what you like, I wouldn't know how to reply."

"Fair point." I agreed, deciding to indulge him. "Alright, favorite book... Probably Jane Eyre."

"Jane Eyre?"

"Yeah."

He snorted. "You're weird."

"What's yours— if you even read."

"Ouch!" He mockingly stabbed himself on the heart, throwing his head back.

"I'm kidding, I swear!" I assured him with a surprised laugh, my hands reaching out to stop him from tripping.

"Okay, mine's Lord Of The Rings."

"Oh! Which part?"

"You've read it?" My eyes followed his movements while he retreated to his original position to walk by my side. "Obviously not, 'cause your favorite book is Jane Eyre." The side of my fist bumped his arm in feigned outrage.

"I tried, but I never got past the Ents."

"What?!" Eddie nearly jumped at my statement.

"The Ents" I groaned dramatically. "They're sooo annoying!"

"How dare you!"

"They're insufferable."

"You're insufferable." I slapped away Eddie's accusing index finger with a smile.

"Oh," I halted my steps, eyes fixed on my house. 'this is perfect."

"What's perfect?"

"My mom's by the window."

"D'you want me to put on a bit of a show?" Eddie's tone was dangerous; he had 'trouble' written all over his face.

"Yes."

With a wink, he took my hand in his and led me to the front sidewalk of the house, only stopping when he was sure my mother had an acceptable view of us.

"Is making out still off the table?"

"Eddie." I warned him, seeing the grin dancing on his lips as he turned to face me, readjusting the strap of his guitar so the instrument wouldn't come in the way.

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding. C'mere."

My eyes went wide when Eddie's ringed fingers found the right side my waist, slowly drawing me in. "What are you doing?" I muttered, trying not to panic when he more hesitantly placed his free hand on my left hip.

"Put your arms around my neck." I did as I was told, feeling his breathed whisper fan on my skin due to the lack of distance between us. "Is your dear mother looking?"

I peeked over Eddie's shoulder to see my mother standing by the window with a folded arms. "Yeah." I barely had time to return my attention to Eddie before he dove in, body arching into mine while our noses bumped.

But that's all he did.

"woah."

"Don't laugh now." He chastised me, anticipating I would most likely burst into nervous giggles due to the situation.

"I'm trying my best." I assured him, gnawing on my lower lip to try and comply, which almost led Eddie himself into a fit of laughter.

His lashes fluttered close as he forced himself to stay in character instead of pulling away to chuckle. Taking a deep breath, his lids opened once more and he leaned a but further, planting a kiss on the corner of my lips.

My racing heart was nearly put under cardiac arrest when my front door bursted open. "Y/n! What in God's name are you doing?!"

Eddie hissed, pulling away just enough to meet my eyes. "She's religious?"

"Mhm." I confirmed, finally allowing my shoulders to shake due to my chuckling. "Devoted."

"Get inside!"

"Coming, mother!" I shouted, letting my hands slide down from Eddie's neck until they rested atop his chest.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He announced, squeezing my side before letting me go.

"Eddie? You got my phone number right?" He gave me a quick nod while I took a step back and circled him. "Call me when you get home, okay?"

"As you wish. Hey, Y/n," his digits brushed mine, stopping me from taking another step further in my mother's direction. "Thanks for tonight."

As a response, I briefly took his hand in mine, rubbing the back of it with my thumb before resuming my walk.

Due to my back being turned to Eddie, I missed his puzzled half smile, and the way he almost tripped when he began to undo our path.

A room is a still a room Even when there’s nothin’ there but gloom But a room is not a house And a house is not a home When the two of us are far apart And one of us has a broken heart.

-A House is Not a Home: Dionne Warwick (1964) / Luther Vandross (1981)

restraint

premise: it’s not eddie’s fault that he wants you so badly, he can’t help it.

pairing: perv!eddie munson x (f)reader

word count: 1k

warnings: eighteen+ content, unaware somnophilia, so dubcon, dry humping, coming on panties, a bit obsessive!eddie.

etc: i guess i’m part of the pervy eddie club now, i hold no shame i just wish this idea didn’t come to me at five in the morning because i still have gotten no rest from it!

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

Eddie can’t help it, he really can’t. The little voice in the back of his head—the one that’s probably his conscience, that part of your brain that lets you know when something is morally wrong or just plain fucked up—is being steam rolled and turned into white noise as his cock hardens in his pants.

He can already feel the droplets of precum wetting the material of his boxers, making it cling to the tip of his cock.

He wonders if you can feel it, the way he’s throbbing as he grinds against your ass in slow gentle thrusts. Just enough for the friction to move your body with his, but not enough to wake you.

And yeah, he really shouldn’t be doing this but he really cannot help it. Not when you look this pretty in one of his band tees. The bottom of the shirt pulling up the more you move in bed, exposing your cotton panties, the curvature of your ass, the way the cotton clings and shapes your cheeks so perfectly.

How could he not reach out and touch?

His fingers were buzzing, burning to run along the material. His palm feeling like a furnace compared to yours when he lets it run along your back side, over the curve of your ass, your buttcheek sticking out from the bottom of the panties—index finger running along the back scheme right where your pussy hides, right where he wants to be, loves to be.

It wasn’t his fault that you looked so perfect like this, so pretty. Just as it wasn’t his fault that his cock had started throbbing to the point of pain, aching to the point of need that he had to rut against you. He would have gone insane if he didn’t.

And it wouldn’t be the first time, nor the last.

He would purchase a million tees if it meant he got this kind of show every night. Got to see your bare legs, your braless tits fill out the front so well.

God he loved the way you looked in his clothes.

Loved you like this. At his disposal, so fucking pretty for him, all his, his cock fitting perfectly against your ass—pressed between your cheeks when he finally can’t stand the pounding in his cock anymore and pulls down his pajama pants to position his cock between them. The cotton so soft. His nose buried in your hair as soft grunts fell from his open mouth.

His body even closer. Like glue to yours, your frame moving in tandem with his, quicker, harder the more pressure he puts in his movements. Enough to have your tits bouncing.

And he shouldn’t be greedy. Shouldn’t need—want—more. But you’re just so perfect and he can’t help how badly he wants you. He can’t.

So he doesn’t hesitate in moving his hand below the tee, his palm cupping your tit. Thumb running along your erect nipple, your small whimpers echo through him like a siren calling out to passing ships.

How could he not touch you like this? How could he ever stay away, not want to have his cock pressed to your body, inside of it, fucking you, feeling you all of the time.

How was it wrong to want you this bad, it couldn’t be.

“So perfect,” Eddie whines at the back of your skull. Whispering to you, hoping you can hear, feel how hard he is right now. How much he fucking aches for you to the point of frustration. “My pretty girl.”

He definitely shouldn’t come like this. On your cute little panties while you’re sound asleep. But he needs to come. Needs to mark you, needs to show you what you do to him, what you caused, why he can’t control himself around you.

And so he’s letting out a gutturaled sob into your hair as he paints the outside of your panties with his come. Wetting them, staining them with the seed you forced out of him. From making him crave you. Want you. What he couldn’t help. What your perfect body does to him.

When he pulls back to see a glob of it on one of your exposed ass cheeks he’s already growing hard again. Wants to wipe it up with his finger and push it between your lips, have you swallow it down without even knowing.

But, knowing you’ll wake up wondering, innocently clueless as to what’s on your skin, why your panties feel so weird; brings an amused kind of joy to him. Makes him want to hold you down to the bed and show you where it came from. Only this time he’d be coming inside of you.

He hisses at the sensitivity as grips the head of his cock, moves it along the wet patches of his come on the cotton. Spreads it along your purt covered cheeks. Wants you to wake up feeling soiled, soaked, wet because of him.

The ache deep in his balls is barely sedated. It never is when it comes to you. He could do it again. Ruin these panties to the point of unsavory. Or maybe he could pull them to the side, press the heat of his cock into your crack. Rub the head of his cock against it until he comes again.

Or even run the length of it along your pussy. Hear the wet noises of your folds opening up for him, greeting him like a warm embrace he wants so badly to be inside of—all of the time. You’d get so wet so quick, you have before when he’s done it. Have even come in your sleep just from the tip of his cock lightly brushing against your clit.

It never felt wrong to be with you like this. To take you like this, have you like this. You were his girl, so pretty, so perfect. He needed you, it wasn’t his fault.

And he never was any good at self control anyway.

how utterly heartbreaking

rest in peace Lisa Marie Presley 🕊️⛪️🕊️

Like excuse me-did you not hear what I just said 🙄😒

safe - e.m.

summary: you and eddie see eachother for the first time after you broke the friendship to protect him from the upside down

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader

word count: 4.7k

tags: mentions of drugs, strong language, no s4 spoilers, friends to enemies to lovers-ish, angst

a/n: fellas! i have written about 6 eddie fics bc nothing could satisfy me n im still iffy abt it so u gotta tell me if this sucks, alright? we’re cousins here, its ur duty. BUT I HOPE ITS ENJOYABLE ITS ANGSTY BUT THATS HOW I COPE <3

Eddie Munson sat on a lounge chair by the pool, unlit cigarette hanging by the corner of his mouth. His metal lunchbox stood by his boots, on the stoned ground. His right leg bounced up and down with quickness, his fingers fiddled with the rings on his right hand.

Keep reading