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alien-magnolia · 1 year

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Eddie Munson’s Little Housewife

This one’s pretty kinky!! Fic description and warnings down below:

18+ minors DNI.

Fic description: Dom! Eddie Munson x fem!subby reader, smutty smut, praise/degradation kink, daddy kink, impact play, collaring, service! kink

“Princess!!,” you hear your boyfriend shout from the other side of the trailer. He was in the living room, you were in his room, just laying around in bed.

You wore one of his oversized band shorts, and pretty hot pink lace panties!! With frilly socks to match, of course. You hear him call you and quickly jump off the bed to run to him.

You come into the living room and there he is, sitting on the couch, manspread, a dwindling flame from the cigarette in his mouth. “Come here, sweet girl,” he says, and pats his lap, motioning for you to sit. You skip over to him, settling in on his lap. He holds your thighs together with his big calloused hand, and you sling your arm around his shoulders.

“I got a little idea, sweetheart. A little idea for our play time, for a scene,” he starts. You knew this was coming. Anytime he wants to talk with you on his lap, you had a feeling it was going to be something dirty.

You felt that little jolt between your legs. Eds felt it too. Suddenly it was a bit hot in the room. “I like the sound of that Eds. Can I be super pretty for you??,” your voice was starting to slip into that subby space you and him loved so much. “Of course, sweet thing. How about this? We can start tomorrow. I give you a few hours to prepare, then I come home from “work” and see how good my baby can serve her Daddy. Would you like that, princess?,” he asks you, lips trailing over your neck. You giggle and squirm a bit more in his lap. “Yes.” “Yes, what?”

“Yes, daddy.” “Good,” he smiles, attacking your face with kisses!!

~ The next day ~

The scene was to start in late afternoon. You found a light pink dress with some heels in your closet, and put on some jewelry and bright makeup too. Eds was outside, waiting to “come home” to his pretty little housewife. Before he left, he instructed you to clean the kitchen and make him dinner. You got dressed first, and then completed the tasks he ordered you to do. Suddenly, the door opens.

You had just finished taking his dinner out of the microwave, and setting the table for him. Here he was, dressed in a black leather jacket and black jeans this time. His top dipped down, down just below where you could see his hairy chest.

You stand there, staring at him. He’s beautiful. “Now, where are your manners, sweetheart? Aren’t you going to invite me in?,” he drawled, his voice low, taunting. It gave you a little tingle between your legs, as you brush aside the hem of your skirt and let him inside.

“Dinner’s all ready, honey. I set the table, just the way you like it,” you gesture to the table, and pull out his chair for him, bringing him a napkin as well.

He hums, satisfied. He doesn’t praise you just yet. He is waiting, waiting for you to mess up. Just so you can get punished.

He eats his dinner in silence, while you sit across from him at the table, hands folded all nice in your lap, watching him with intent. You feel like he’ll start any minute. The anticipation is killing you.

“I’m done,” he whispers, softly, and you scramble to clear his plate. You left his cup on the table. He raises his voice a bit.

“Are we forgetting something?,” he asks you. You freeze. You didn’t clear anything off the table yet. “Oh, um…,” you start.

“Ah, ah, no time for explaining now, baby. You forgot. Isn’t that right?,” he says, stepping closer to you, pushing you against a wall, his hand trailing up your skirt.

“Yes, daddy.” He huffs, “good.” He pulls out a chair into the kitchen tile, sitting on it, leaving you panting against the wall. He taps his thigh. A signal. You knew what to do. You start to walk over to him.

“No. Kneel,” he points, onto the floor. You do as he says, kneeling right in front of him, hands folded in your lap. That was his favorite position. You look up.

He takes your chin, bringing your face a bit closer to him. He pulls out your small collar out of his pocket, reaching behind you gently to put it on. It is pink, with a heart ring in the middle. He tugs on it a bit, brushing your hair behind your knee.

“Didn’t listen to daddy, did you now, sweet girl?” You shake your head, as he peppers your cheek with a few light kisses. “Now, look at you. Kneeling like a little whore, for all those neighbors to see. I think my girl needs to be put in her place, don’t you?” He smugly taunts. He tugs on your collar a bit, his calloused fingertips brushing against your soft neck. “Here’s what’s going to happen, sweetheart. I’m going to close those curtains, lock that door. I’m going to put you over my knee. And then I’ll give you as many spanks as I see fit, and you’re going to thank me for it, like the little slut you are.”

You froze again, simply mulling over his words in your head. He reaches over to you, a look of concern on his face. “Color, sweetheart? What’s your color?,” he asks. “Green, daddy. So green.” He smiles, and pats his knee again, motioning for you to get up. You loved how he checked in on you during a scene, he was so caring!!

Suddenly, you feel your skirt lifted, a cool breeze, your lavender lace thong exposed for him to see. You feel his metal rings, the shape of them, graze over your thong, pulling on it a bit. Without warning, he brings it down on your ass, you jolt forward a bit. “That’s one, princess. I think you need a minimum of twenty, maybe thirty, even. You’ve been bad.”

“Two,” he calmly says, as his calloused hand comes down on your ass again. Lucky for you, he gave you only ten more until you were shaking a bit in his lap. He gently pulls you up, and lays you on the table, face down.

You can’t see what he is doing, but you feel him now on top of you, his hairy chest pressing down onto your small, bare, back!! He grunts a bit, and you feel his hands near your backside. “Spread those cute little thighs for me. There you go, sweetie. What a good girl.”

You can’t do much but nod and moan, and soon enough you feel his big calloused fingers push Into you, god — it felt so good. “Fuck, — he grunts. This sweet little cunt is just sucking me in. You must be so ready for me, sweetie.” His voice —just so sweet. “Gonna give you my cock now, honey.”

With that, he slides Into you, your squelching pussy just pulling him in more and more, you felt so full and good, all stuffed with your daddy’s cock! “Fuck, princess, so fuckin’ good baby, so tight, can’t even move, what a good little slut you are for me,” he praises, stroking your hair with one of his hands, and the other holding your hips up firmly in place.

“Gonna go fast now, sweetie. You just lay there and take it for me, ‘kay?” “Yes, daddy,” you answer him, softly, brain too empty to think. You feel one his hands steady your shoulders, and then he starts pounding into you, ruthlessly, grunting, at a pace that has the table shaking.

“God — he was so strong and you loved it!! You felt his soft and big balls against you, as he drove his fat cock deeper and deeper into you. “Too deep, s’ too deep, daddy, can’t take it anymore,” you squeal out to him, and yet he does nothing but calm uou with some more “it’s okay, princess, just be a good girl and take it for me.” And soon enough, you feel his hot seed spill out into you, and with that, he is about to pull out. You grab his wrist. “Want your cock, daddy. Want it in.”

He agrees, kissing you on the cheek lightly. “S’okay, sweetie. We can stay like this. My perfect little housewife, huh? She’s so good for me, letting me breed her on the table like that. My perfect girl, so good for me,” he coos at you, as he momentarily pulls out, to slide you on your back. He lays back down on top of you, his heavy body pressing down on your little one, he slides his cock back in.

“How about we cuddle a bit, and then I can take a bath with you? How does that sound, sweetie? Did so good for me today…,” he coos at you some more, you run your hands through his fluffy dark brown locks. You loved scenes with your Eds — you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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poppy-metal · 2 years

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i'm always seeing posts abt casual dominance w steve but what abt eddie???? i need.

eddie is worse bc he doesn't even realize hes doing it.

he'll do the thing where he puts his hand on your waist when he squeezes behind you like, "sorry, sorry." you are on the verge of cumming.

eating with him and he stops mid ramble to reach over and thumb at the corner of your mouth, "you had thing, it was bugging me." now you have to sit there for the rest of lunch wet between the legs.

eddie playing d&d and turning to you with a smile and holding his cupped fists towards your lips where he's holding his dice, "blow for good luck." and now you're thinking of blowing something else.

eddie and casual dominance is just alot of him being touchy feely because physical touch is his love language and he has no idea his hands are now the two costars starring in all your fantasies when you touch yourself at night.

when you see his cuffs for the first time, you balk and point to them, "these for show, munson." and he quickly glances up from where he'd been hunched over his guitar, messing with the strings with his pick necklace held between his lips. he spares the cuffs one cursory glance before hes looking back down again to adjust his fingers, "they're for kink stuff. hey, listen to this-"

you want to pass out.

#ask #eddie spaghetti

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carolmunson · 2 years

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before there was a before (steddie x f!reader)

fluff and smut, plenty of plot but pretty porny. long af, but when am i to be short winded?

warnings: 18+ minors dni, some pretty violent violence at the beginning (bordering actual abuse), eddie to the rescue, some very sweet steve, casual dominance, daddy kink, swearing, p in v sex (unprotected), mocking language, some almost fighting, crying, oral (m receiving), mmf threesome

story takes place in early winter 1991. really want to reiterate that steve isn’t just ‘daddy’ mean at the beginning, he’s actually mean. reader beware.

"And now she's lookin' for a downtown man, that's what I am..." Eddie's hand falls on your thigh, his voice falling in harmony with Billy's while the song crackles through the speakers. He always put your mix on when you were in the car together, especially when you were like this.

You weren’t sure where you were going, but he helped you pack a suitcase this morning for about a week long trip. He almost felt lucky that this blow out with Steve happened before your vacation so he could care for you properly.

Tears were pouring out of you while you looked out the window, remembering Steve’s face while you left – trying to hold back his own tears when Eddie looked back at him.

'You’re gonna bring her back, right? It’s just a week?’ he asked weakly, turning to you, “You don’t have to leave, baby. You don’t have to do this to me. You know I’m sorry.”

’I’ll keep you posted, Steve,’ Eddie’s voice was cool and uncaring, shutting the door behind him. Steve looked out the window while you pulled away and he waved, you tried not to, but you waved back anyway. That’s what had you crying now – his broken face, like a little boy whose parents forgot to pick him up from school. But Eddie wanted you to remember Steve’s face from last night, the whole reason he was taking you away.

“I d-didn’t do anything wr-wrong, you j-just had a bad day at w-work,” you’d cried out on your knees in the bedroom, his frame towering over you with your chin in his fingers.

“What’re you talking back for?” he growled, the Maker’s on his breath was distinct.

“I’m n-not talking back, Stevie. I don’t know wh-why you’re so upset with m-me,” you tried to explain. He’d come home in a bad mood, obviously having stopped at the bar on the way to forget his sorrows in a bottle of bourbon. He made up in his head that you were out all day slacking off, ’probably flirting with the boys at the grocery store, like a fucking slut’ and ’out spending all his fuckin’ money,’ – all because there were dishes in the sink that he had asked you to do this morning. The thing is, you had done the dishes this morning. The house was immaculate because you didn’t want to worry about it being messy during your staycation this week. The boys had promised to clean up after themselves. Eddie had a later shift, so when you were out running errands he was making a cake for his co-worker for her birthday. You called him to complain about him leaving a mess in the kitchen and he begged you not to clean it up – he’d do it when he got home. He apologized profusely over it. “I did the dishes,” you cried, your thighs and backside stinging from where he wailed on you in the kitchen with his belt, “I already t-told you they were Eddie’s. He asked n-not to do them.”

“And you’re a fucking liar,” he hissed.

“I’m not lying, Steve,” you cry while he presses up on your chin, implying he wants you to stand – you do slowly and gingerly. As you get to your height, he grips your jaw hard again and pulls you close to him. His eyes are menacing, challenging you.

“If you keep calling me Steve in my house, it’s gonna get worse for you,” his voice held nothing in it outside of superiority, “You want it to get worse for you?” You shook your head no, not meeting his gaze. Too afraid to set him off.

“Bend over the bed,” his demand made your knees buckle, a fresh crop of tears pouring from your eyes.

“Please don’t, Stevie,” you whimpered, your skin buzzing and welted from his belt and his hands from earlier. You shook while he maneuvered you, lifting your dress back up over your hips – your underwear previously discarded on the kitchen floor.

“This is what you deserve,” Steve’s eyes were dark, “You earned this.” “Say it, baby,” he ordered. Your hung your head while hearing the clink of his belt getting wrapped around his hand again, your body shuddering with sobs, “I earned th-this.”

The next blows made you scream, desperately trying to shimmy away from him. He hooked his arm around your waist roughly to keep you in place, his nails dragging hard and furiously over your beaten skin. A high pitched, pained whine erupted from your throat while he stood back up, rearing his arm back.

“No, please, please don’t do it again,” you cried, giving into his accusations, “I’ll go do the dishes, please, let me go. I’m sorry I lied daddy, I’ll be good – just please stop.” Another hard blow from the belt seared across your ass, and another. Your blubbering booming through the room, into the hallway, and down the stairs.

“So you are a fuckin’ liar?” Steve challenged.

You could hear Eddie bounding up the stairs at the sound of your voice, barreling through the bedroom door frame with a heated expression, “Woah, woah woah, what the fuck is going on in here? She told you to stop.”

He pulled you out of the line of Steve’s next whip of the belt before Steve could react, holding you tightly to his chest while he adjusted your dress back to its proper place. He rubbed soothing circles on your back with his warm, ringed hand while you collapsed into him.

“What’s it for this time, Steve?” Ed asked, exasperated, “What could she have possibly done this time?”

“She’s lying to me about what she did today,” he said, crossing his arms, guilt settling in at the sight of your beaten skin, “I asked her to do the dishes this morning, and she did everything but that. Then she tried to say it was you. You’d be pissed too.”

Eddie takes a deep breath and lets it out of his nose, “It was me.”

“She did the dishes this morning before she left to run errands, I made a cake for Sarah for her birthday – I told her I’d clean them up when I got home,” he said, “Why didn’t you just believe her? You could’ve called the store and asked me.”

“You’re just covering for her like you always do,” Steve said defiantly, standing up off the bed.

“You’re refusing to be wrong, because now you feel bad,” Eddie said, you could feel him start to vibrate, anger setting up in his chest, “You do this every, single, time, you let your bullshit get the better of you.”

“It’s not worth it,” you said, looking up at Eddie and only seeing his chin. You tap his chest and he looks down at you, eyes sad at your tear streaked face, “It’s not worth getting mad over, Ed.”

“It is worth getting mad over, baby. He’s just fucking beating you at this point,” he almost yelled, “You can’t just let him think that’s okay.”

“It’s not worth it,” you hiccup, “I d-don’t want to do this any-anymore.”

They both get quiet, listening to your shuddering breaths as you pull out of Eddie’s hold and go grab some pajamas from your dresser. Steve doesn’t look at you while you walk by him.

“Honey, let me take care of you,” Eddie pleads, “Let’s go relax in the other room, I’ll make it better.” He watches you shuffle and cry out into the hallway. You sulked into the guest room turned mancave next door, slamming the door behind you. “You went to the bar again?” Ed asked, “You fuckin’ reek of bourbon.”

“What do you care?” Steve asked, defensively. Ed stood up close to him, chest puffed, glaring at him down the slope of his nose. “I care –” he begins, giving him a tight shove in the chest, “Because every time you get drunk, you start acting like your fuckin’ dad.”

Steve’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t retort. His brain was fuzzy and fuming, but he was lucid enough to know that whatever came out of his mouth next would sting – and he wasn’t in the head space to beat Eddie in a fist fight. (He’s never won anyway.)

“Steve…” Eddie starts again, “She’s gonna leave.”

“She’s not gonna leave, Ed,” Steve huffs, “Where is she even gonna go? Back to her parents? She’s living here rent fucking free, whose gonna take care of her like me, hm?”

“Like you? Psht, you really are so far gone, dude,” Ed’s brows knitted, staring down at him, “When’re you gonna get your shit together? Why do I have to keep telling you to get your shit together? Why do I have to keep saving her from you? No one’s taking care of her like you because you don’t take care of her.”

“I have my shit together, Munson,” Steve cracked his neck, “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

“Aw you gonna hit me, Harrington?” he mocked with a grin, seeing Steve’s hand twitch while his neck cracked, “Go for it, make my fuckin’ day.” The boys stared each other down for a minute before Steve pushed past Eddie and went down the stairs, the door to the back yard slamming behind him. Eddie sighed, talking to Steve was like talking to a wall. While he soothed you that night – coming in and treating your battered thighs, rubbing your back and legs, covering you in kisses – he thought about what he could do to make this a little better.

“I’m gonna take you somewhere this week,” he mumbled between pecks to your lips, “I’ll pack a bag for you tomorrow, and we can get out of here. You wanna do that?”

You considered it for a minute, “What about the store?”

“What about it?” he asked, “It’s my store, I have employees. They can run it without me for a few days. Let’s get outta dodge for a little, let Steve have some time alone.” Back in the van, Eddie frowned at your crying, letting his hand run over the top of your thigh, “It’s okay, baby. I know he made you feel like you’re doing this to punish him, but you just need a break. That’s okay. No one’s mad at you.” His voice felt like a hot bath on sore muscles, coaxing you to relax. Eddie knew he’d spend the first day trying to get your mind off Steve’s desperate morning pleas to make you stay. Him waking up and making breakfast, spilling apologies over you while pouring your coffee. Trying to give you a kiss before you left, but Eddie wrapped an arm around you before he could.

“And when she knows what she wants from her ti-i-ime. And when she wakes up, and makes up her mi-i-ind,” Eddie’s voice continued to sing along. You thought about the first time you heard Eddie sing it, sitting on his lap in the back seat of Steve’s car when, things had just gotten interesting between the three of you. It was new and exciting, a secret you all liked keeping.

“She’ll see I’m not so tough, just because, I’m in love–”

—

Early October, 1989 “–With an uptown girl! You know I’ve seen her in her uptown world. She’s getting tired of her high-class toys, and all her presents from her uptown boys. She’s got a choice--” You were all piled in the BMW singing along badly, most of the kids were home for the long holiday weekend. Steve and Eddie and the girls wanted to do something fun and fall with them before they went back to school until November. So, apple picking it was – even if it was a little too late in the season. Steve would peer back at you in the rearview mirror and shoot you a smile just so you’d blush back at him. Robin in shotgun (always), Nancy planted firmly on her lap (despite her distress calls that all of this was dangeorus and they should just take the mini-van), and the boys plus Max piled on top of eachother next to you and Eddie. “You sound good,” you encouraged, turning to face him, your faces a little too close, “You a singer or something?”

He rolled his eyes, his voice drenched in sarcasm, “Oh, no, never sang before in my life.”

“I don’t know,” you smiled playfully, “You’re really good. You should like, start a band one day. Know anyone who plays music?”

“Can’t think of anyone actually,” he confessed, his eyes wide and over the top, “None of my friends play instruments – I don’t even know how to hold a guitar.”

He watched you laugh and ached to touch you more, to hold you close to him. To put his hands on your thighs the way he knew you liked it. Ever since Eddie had gotten a taste of you, he selfishly only wanted more of it – all of it, all of you. 'Uptown girl! You know I can’t afford to buy her pearls, but maybe someday when my ship comes in. She’ll understand what kind of guy I’ve been, and then I’ll win.’

He confessed he was a little nervous he wouldn’t be able to get enough at peak ripeness for the pies he wanted to make. He’d made keylime pies this past summer for the ladies at the women’s shelter across from his record store and they were such a hit that he wanted to do apple and pumpkin pies for the fall.

You assured him ten times over that there would be enough apples for him to make pies. You promised you’d climb to the top of any tree if it meant getting all the apples he needed.

You regretted that promise after getting to the orchard.

“C'mon babe, you can do it,” Eddie said, a couple of thick branches above you, holding out his hand while the other held tightly to the trunk of the tree.

“Ed, I – I can’t,” you said, peering down at the ground, frozen in place. Steve laughed a little from back on the ground, cheering you on from the roots, “I’m too scared.”

“Baby you got it, you just have to grab his hand. He’s got you,” he called up, “And if you fall, I got you. Either way, you’re safe.”

Eddie winced when Steve said 'if you fall’, knowing that it would inadvertently put even more doubt in your mind. You looked at your beat up sneakers balancing on the bark.

“Why don’t you climb up here, Harrington?” you called down, “Why does it have to be me?”

“You did promise,” Eddie reminded softly, his hand still out while you met his gaze, beckoning you forward, “C'mon, come to daddy.”

He grinned when you blushed hard, knowing that those couple of words would make your stomach flip and turn a switch in you. Suddenly overcome with a need to please him, you grab his hand, getting pulled up while your feet reached for the next branch for support – hoisting your self up to meet Eddie, face to face with a cluster of gleaming red apples.

“Okay, hold open the bag for me, please?” he asked. You unhooked the half full bag from your shoulder and watched as he balanced close to the end of the branch, it creaking in response to the weight of him and his boots.

“Be careful, Ed,” you warned, but he turned and tossed you a wink. Something he’d do every time you told him to be careful in the future.

He plopped the apples one by one into the bag, until all five had been shorn from their home. He took the handles from you and slung them over his own shoulder, knowing that the increase in weight was making you feel unbalanced. Your face really told him all he needed to know.

“Thank you for being so brave, baby,” he murmurs while pressing a kiss to your lips, hidden behind the leaves. God forbid Nancy or Robin or the gang show up and see it. He left you breathless while he scrambled down the tree like a cat, his boots crunching on the leaves while he landed with a thud.

“Um!” you look down and seeing their feet at the base of the tree, “Guys I – I don’t know if I can get down.”

Steve took a step forward, ducking under a branch to look up at you with his arms crossed. His green sweatshirt hugged his broad shoulders, forearms still slightly tanned from the summer. His watch glinted in the sunlight pooling in from the leaves, shimmering on the ground below.

“You okay, honey?” he asked, frowning at your reddened face, “Want me to come up there and help you?” You shook your head no – but wanted to say yes. You could do this, you made it all the way up here. You could find your way down. “You’re okay,” he cooed, a hand coming up to the lowest branch, “I know you can do it. I’m right here, I got you!”

“Is she stuck?” you heard Dustin’s voice before you saw his shoes approach Eddie’s, then Robin’s sneakers, then Nancy’s, then the gang’s. You huffed with embarrassment – you were a grown woman damn it! You could climb down a tree! How hard could it be?

You trembled while you slowly turned around, treating the uneven branches like a make shift ladder – opposite hand and leg working slowly as you made your way closer to the ground. Soon seeing the groups feet, then their legs, then their chests before Steve’s strong arms wrapped around your middle and pulled you from the last couple of branches.

“Told you, I got you,” he said in your ear, putting your feet on the ground, “What were you so nervous for? You climbed down that tree no problem.”

“Maybe I just needed some of your encouragement,” you flirted with a smile. Steve blushed, pulling you in by the back of the neck to give you a deep, slow kiss. The kind that made the kids still get a little squicked out.

“Alright, get a room Harrington, gross,” Robin muttered, tossing a hand at the both of you while the group moved on to more trees. You stood breathless with Steve, staring at eachother while the cool air tinged both of your cheeks pink.

“So proud of you, angel,” he flashed you a knowing smile while tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. The praise warmed you up quickly from your core to your finger tips. His fingers laced with yours while you strolled through the orchard. Robin, Nancy, and Max exchanged honey sticks in different flavors. Mike, Eddie, Lucas, and Dustin were chasing each other through the trees, chucking mushy rotten apples at each other that had fallen too soon.

“We’re gonna walk down to the farm,” Steve called out to the group, some strangers even turned to listen with how commanding his voice was.

“Who am I getting cider for?” he asked a little more quietly, everyone raising their hand, the boys making a big show of who wanted the first cup.

“Definitely not you, Wheeler,” Steve muttered, while counting out how many cups he’d need to order. Mike, who’d grown tall and gangly, now in his late teens, still tossed him a face like he was twelve in his basement.

“We’ll meet you down there,” Nancy called over.

You walked together hand in hand, basking in the sun on your face – the kind of sunshine where it was only hot if you stood directly in the rays but the shade was chilly. It wasn’t cold enough for your breath to smoke around you, but the little chill in the wind let you know it wasn’t far away. “You cold?” Steve asked, “I can go get my jacket out of the car.”

“That’s what? A three mile walk away, Steve?” you laughed, “I’ll be okay.”

“I can run, I’m like – super fast,” he said, always talking with his hands in some way or another.

“It’s okay, the cider’s hot, it’ll warm me up,” you squeezed his hand.

“I can warm you up when we get home,” he said under his breath. You hold back an eye roll – with everyone out of ear shot it left a lot of leeway for Steve to act on some new things you’d been trying out. Some rules here and there, some mild punishment (if you could even call it that, it felt so good) – but you weren’t about to press his buttons on a nice day like today. He let go of your hand to pull you in at the waist, walking with his arm around you. With anyone else the position would be awkward over such uneven ground, but Steve had such a way of making everything smooth. He loved being close to you, feeling your body heat, smelling the perfume he bought you ghosting off your skin.

“Is that better?” he asked, “A little warmer?”

You nod up at him, “Much better.”

He keeps himself around you while you approach the large cabin in the farm, a grocery store of sorts. The sounds of children giggling and the petting zoo animals disappearing while the doors close behind you. The rush of warm air from the heating is welcome on your skin and you try to get out of Steve’s hold to inspect a shelf of pumpkin flavored fudge nearby.

“Hey, hey, where you goin’?” he asked, snaking you back in by the belt loop, “We’re here on a mission.”

You huff a little while he pulls you in and you can feel his stare linger on you for a beat longer than normal. A shiver runs through you while he does it, but you don’t meet his eyes. He opts to keep a hand on the small of your back while you both weave through patrons of the store, getting to the back wall where a counter was set up for walk away treats.

“Hi there, how are you?” Steve asked while approaching the counter, always so charming.

“I’m great, thanks for asking,” replies the old woman, her apron tight around her. Her soft gray hair tied in a braid down her back, “What can I get you folks today?”

“I need nine cups of cider, if that’s possible,” he asked, already fishing for his wallet in his back pocket, “And um, a dozen of the cinnamon sugar donuts.”

“Comin’ right up,” she beamed, disappearing into the kitchen.

You both waited, leaning against the counter. You could feel Steve staring again, his hand coming to cup your cheek so you’d face him.

“Hi, Stevie,” you smile.

“Hi,” he says back, “You look so pretty, today.”

“Just today?” you laugh and he melts, his thumb sliding over your cheek bone, now pink from the praise.

“You’re pretty every day,” he confesses, “But there’s something about you right now – just extra pretty.” He shrugs and you take his hand from your face, pressing a soft pillowy kiss to his palm. Steve’s heart races, always a sucker for your soft touches. He’s never gotten over how gentle you can be with him, the way your fingers lace through his hair, when you trace the veins on his hands. When you kiss him slow on the cheek when he’s had a bad day.

The cider and donuts arrive and you check out. Steve, always observant and never one to deny you of anything, made sure to toss a small pack of the pumpkin fudge you were eyeing on the conveyor belt.

“Give me,” he says, while you pick up the cardboard cup holders filled with lidless styrofoam cups. Steam floated up to your face, soothing you as Steve held open the door to the outside – the wind was a little colder now.

“Give it to me, it’s too hot,” he demands. You frown and exchange the cider for the bag of donuts, walking over to the picnic tables a small distance away from the farm. The group had comandeered one, everyone with their bags of apples, cheering when you arrived with the goods. Steve sat at the empty spot across from Eddie while you went around serving everyone – a barrage of 'thank you’s’ and 'your welcomes’ exchanged throughout. When you got to the final cup of cider, your own, you looked around and realized there was no space for you. You stood there, suddenly feeling awkward and out of place, even though you knew all of these people – they had become your friends too over the last ten months.

“Hey,” Steve called over to you, patting his thigh, “This seat’s all yours.”

You do roll your eyes this time while you make your way over, discretely skating your fingers over Eddie’s back while you walk around him to get to Steve’s lap. He struggles to hide his giddiness at the attention, even as you slide onto Steve’s thigh.

“Did you have a good day?” he asks, resting his head on your shoulder. You nod, putting your cider down and fishing the fudge out of the bag, covered in sugar from the donuts. You undo the plastic wrapping neatly, laying it out between you and Eddie, pulling a piece off after cutting it with the small plastic knife taped to the bottom.

Just as before, your face tells Eddie exactly what you need to know.

“You don’t like it?” he asks with a giggle. Your face scrunches and you shake your head no.

“Oh, no, babe I’m sorry,” Steve apologizes as if he made the suggestion to buy it, “Do you want me to go get you a different flavor?”

“No, no, it’s okay,” you say, sipping your cider to take the taste of your mouth, “Sorry for wasting it.”

“Stop, I’ll eat it,” Eddie assured, shoving a piece in his mouth before wrapping it up and putting the remainder in his deep leather jacket pocket.

The ride home was much quieter, everyone a little tired out from running around all day. The BMW seemed to move slower with the weight of everyone’s apples filling up the trunk. Most of the back seat crew was nodding off, Robin, Nancy, and Steve engrossed in a lively discussion about why Married to the Mob is a cinematic masterpiece. Eddie took this chance to snake his arm around your middle and pull you close enough that his nose was in your hair. He leaned his forehead on your shoulder, his hand warm and protective on your opposite hip – your personal seatbelt.

By the time you got back home you were all exhausted, dragging yourselves out of the car – the walk from the driveway to the front door feeling longer than usual. You took turns taking showers and mulling about the house, organizing the apples in the fridge – Eddie starting on pie crusts. Later in the night, you and Steve retreated off to the bedroom while Eddie went to his to read. He tried to ignore your whines and whimpers sneaking in from the cracks in the door, but after a little it got more difficult to not hear you. “Oh, shit,” Eddie could hear Steve’s ragged breaths and moans through the wall. “So good, baby, that’s a good girl,” Steve cooed, Eddie caught your gagging and sputtering. He groaned, closing his book, palming himself over his sweats. Just imagining you with your back arched on your knees on the bed, mouth full, your eyes like saucers while you look up for Steve’s praise. He reached into his pants, letting his fingers graze gently over his length before gripping it at the base, pumping slowly. Thinking back to your last triste in Steve’s room, your mouth wrapped around his cock while Steve’s teased you with his fingers. Watching you moan while he called you his pretty baby, his sweet little whore.

“You wanna ask him?” he heard Steve ask. “Yes, daddy,” your voice had raised a few octaves. Eddie’s breath hitched at your obedience, his strokes getting faster while his tip weeped into his boxers. You knocked on his door, slick and aching between your legs, “Eddie?” you called out.

“Yes, angel?” he asked, snaking his hand out of his pants and opening the door, leaning against the door frame. He tutted at your face, needy and pathetic, a little bit of drool still wet on your chin.

“Can I help you with something?” he asked with a smirk, crossing his heavily inked arms over his chest.

“Will you come play with us?” you asked meekly, self concious over how naked you were in the hallway – even with no one else in the house.

“What do you say when you ask for something?” Steve called sternly from the bedroom.

“Please?” you quickly added, your eyes rounding, ready to please.

“Well when you ask like that…” he says, tilting his head to the side, uncrossing his arms to run a finger down your face.

“C'mon,” he says, offering his hand to you and you speedily take it while he guides you the five steps it takes to get to Steve’s room. Steve is sitting against the headboard, as naked as you are, cock hard and angry in his hand lazily stroking himself in your absense.

You let go of Eddie’s hand to climb back on the bed, marveling at him while he sheds his bottom layers, left only in the chain around his neck. He watches you kneel at the edge of the mattress, your hands outstretch for him, but he bypasses them to pull you in by the back of the neck and cheek. His kiss is hungry and aching, bursting with the heat of all the kisses he wanted to give you today. You return his intensity, snaking your tongue in his mouth – gasping as your lips part only to meet again. Your hand sneaks down to his cock, hard and begging for you, you slide it through your hands and savoring the silky softness of the skin. “Mmmf, please,” he begs into your neck, teeth grazing over your jugular making you jump. Steve quickens his pace on his shaft, face getting hot at sight of both of you, honing in on both of your quickened breaths and moans.

Your thumb slides over the tip and he groans, his teeth marking your shoulder. He needed this, needed you to touch him, to make him feel good like this. His hands wandered, grasping at you, leaving indents on your more fleshy parts. You missed the feeling of his cold rings, he must’ve taken them off when he showered.

“Show daddy what you’re doing, princess,” Steve said softly, “Show me what’s got Eddie feeling so good.” You pull back from Eddie a little, your hand working his cock like he paid you to do it. Your palms covered in a sheen of his pre-cum, helping you jerk him quicker while his breaths start picking up.

“Baby, baby, easy –” he pants, sweat starting to glisten at his hairline. He reaches for your forearm to steady you and you pout while he takes his cock out of your hand.

“I just wanted to make you feel nice,” you say, a little whiny, playing up the part for the boys.

“You’re making me feel so nice, sweet thing,” he coos, “Are you feeling nice? Has anyone made you feel good yet?” You shake your head no – Steve tutts, “Don’t be a liar, baby.”

His low tone makes you sit back down on your calves, Eddie’s eyes darken down on you, his hand on the side of your face snaking into your hair, “Did you already cum before I came in?”

He watches you nod, looking down at your knees.

“Look at me when I ask you a question,” Eddie’s voice gets a little sharp and you pulse between your legs, looking up at him through your lashes.

“I already got to cum, but it’s been a long time,” you urge.

Steve lets a chuckle out through his nose, his erection laying flush against his stomach, “It’s been fifteen minutes.”

“Greedy girl,” Eddie chides, he tugs at your hair, tilting your head back so you meet his eyes, “I have an idea – why don’t you put that mouth back on Daddy’s cock while I fuck you from behind.” “I think that’s a great idea,” Steve says, and you turn to look at him – his eyes are lust blown – the honey brown of them long forgotten, “Don’t you, sweet thing? You were doing such a good job before.”

“Yes, daddy,” you nod, your head fuzzy and floaty at both men throwing demands your way.

“Go,” Eddie says softly, letting go of your hair and nudging your shoulder towards Steve. You crawl the short distance over to him, starting in table top position before arching low. Steve leers at your back and how it curves out into your hips and ass while your lips slide softly over the thick vein starting at the base of his cock.

“Can’t wait to see how pretty you look when you get fucked from behind,” Steve coos, fingers carding through your hair, “Daddy never gets to see that pretty face when you cum.”

“Mmm,” you reply, hot all over. You suck softly on the tip, using your hand on the mid-shaft in the same motion as you did Eddie’s. Twisting just slightly, squeezing at every flick of the wrist. You feel Ed position himself behind you, unaware of how nervous he is – being only the second time he’s been inside you. You shiver at his fingers testing your wetness between your folds, seeing how slick and ready you were before pushing himself in.

“Still a little too tight,” he says, “Don’t know if I’ll fit, angel. We can try another time, yeah?”

“No,” you whined at his teasing, spreading your legs further apart, “Please, sir. I need it.”

“Aw, you need it?” Eddie mocks, two of his fingers sliding back and forth against the length of your slit, “But did you earn it?”

He smirks devilishy at your following whimper, muffled by Steve’s cock hitting the back of your throat. Steve’s head leaned back against the headboard, one hand gripping your hair at the scalp to control your movements on his cock. “Oh, don’t bully her, Ed,” Steve says, making eye contact with him over your body, “She’s definitely – oh fuck – earning it over here.”

“Please,” you whine again, coming up for air, “I’m being so good.”

“She’s being so good,” Steve repeats to Eddie, his mocking makes your cheeks sting but you ignore the feeling as he guides you back down to his tip.

Eddie guides himself in slowly, just starting with the first couple of inches while you start to stretch for him. You gasp, arching deeper, pushing your hips back to take more of him.

“Watch yourself,” Eddie hisses down at you, bringing his hand down in a sharp smack across your left cheek – mouth watering at the reverb of your ass. “Sorry, sir,” you yelp, Steve chuckles at you, already watching you fade behind the eyes.

“Since you think you can take it like a big girl, I won’t be so nice about it,” he growls, shoving himself into you while you lurch forward, a pleasured cry creaking out of your throat. Eddie can barely contain himself, snapping his hips against you in a steady rythm, your slick already wetting the hair at his pelvis.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you string out, “Fuck, oh fuck, oh my god.” “Eddie, it’s – oh fuck it’s so big,” you whine, feeling one hand splay against your lower back, the other gripping your hip. Eddie chuckles darkly at your confession, feeling your walls clench lightly around him.

“Look at you, baby,” Steve says, scooting forward to meet your face with his, losing your posture to probably take him in your mouth.

“Look at you taking that dick, you’re doing so good,” he lauds, “Daddy’s so impressed with you.”

“Thank you, Daddy,” you gasp, eyes watering at the feeling of Eddie pounding into you. Your fingers gripping the sheets as your walls loosened further to accomodate his size, but it still wasn’t enough. You felt so full of him, the tip of him just grazing your g-spot with every thrust.

“Why don’t you look back and thank Eddie for fuckin’ you so good,” he recommends, but you know it’s an order. Your pussy clenches again, feeling Steve’s tongue and lips on your neck while you turn your head.

Eddie was drunk on the sound of you squelching over him he could barely register you talking. Eyes heavy lidded while your warm, wet slit swallowed him in, holding on tight when he got to the hilt of every thrust. “What was that, baby?” he asks, slowing his thrusts down grunting at how you suddenly felt tighter than before.

“Thank you for – mmm – f-fucking me so s'good, sir,” you manage to croak out. “Just good?” he asks, reaching forward to grab gently at your chin – admiring how your eyes rolled back when Steve sucked on a senstive part of your neck. He’d learn all your sensitive spots soon enough.

“I could fuck you even better,” he says, “You want that?”

You nod feverishly, your cheeks red, your walls flutter around him with wanting. “What do you say?” he asks, mimicking Steve from before. “Please!” you cry out, feeling him pull his length out of you, approaching it from a different angle and – oh. Oh.

You next cry was silent as each pump into you hit the spongey mass of your g-spot with percision. Tears took no time to start streaming down your cheeks, sending Eddie and Steve almost over the edge. “That feels good?” Eddie asked with his brows raised, “You like getting fucked like this?”

“Y-yes,” you whimper, “Yes s-sir. I love getting fucked like this.”

“Why?” he asks, “Tell daddy why you love getting fucked like this.”

You turn to Steve whose fisting himself hard, getting close to the edge – his own personal porn video right here in living color. He uses his free hand to hold your head up, kissing you forcefully – with ownership. “Is it cause you’re a pretty little whore?” Eddie asks, his rythym starting to stutter.

“Is it baby? Is it because you’re a whore?” Steve’s eyes narrow down at you, knowing what to say next to send you over the edge. He could tell Ed was close by the way he was biting his lip, his grip on your hips bound to leave bruises. The heat in your stomach was thrumming with excitement, building tigher and tighter, your eyes shutting tight has your ass bounced back against Eddie’s deep thrusts. Steve takes your chin roughly in his hand to steady you and your eyes pop open, his words come out sweet, “Are you daddy’s filthy fucking whore?”

“Oh fuck!” you cry out, creamy spend coating Eddie’s cock, squeezing down hard on him. He grunts, pulling you back on him so he can keep pumping into you – beads of sweat springing from his forehead to your back. You can barely control your mouth, letting out a string of expletives, finally settling on a breathy chant of, “Yes I’m a whore, yes I’m a whore, I’m such a whore, such a fucking whore for you…” Eddie pulled out, gripping and pumping himself with speed, quickly ordering, “Knees, now.”

You don’t take a second to breathe, scrambling off the bed to get to your knees at the edge of the mattress. Both men, slick with swollen ruddy tips, loomig over your and your open mouth. You stick out your tongue, flattening it over your chin without being asked and you see Steve smile – finally a learned behavior after weeks of trying to drill it into your head. They cum simultaneously in ragged moans, a mix of their seed landing in your mouth, on your tongue, the rest smattering over the rest of your face and your closed eyes. You hear them kiss as they come down, sloppy and needy, soft little ’mms’ escaping their lips as their breaths steadied. You stay in position with your tongue out until you feel Steve take a soft tissue to your eyes. You open them gently, making sure there wasn’t anything left sneaking around, letting them fully open the coast was clear. Your eyes glitter with left over tears, your pupils proving how fucked out you were. The only things in the world being Steve and Eddie, now standing over you.

“Swallow,” Steve says, and you obediently put your tongue back in your mouth – savoring the salty liquid mixing with your saliva as it pours down your throat.

“How you feeling, baby?” Eddie asks, while reaching for his boxer and sweat pants, slipping them on, “Are you okay?”

You nod, too tired to talk, but Steve asks again, “You okay?”

Whenver he repeats a question, you know it’s because he wants to hear you. You’ve never been great at keeping your emotions at bay – you had only cried a couple of times after sex with Steve, just from being over whelmed by the orgasms he’d give you. Even so, if you were gonna cry, he’d rather you do it with him around so he could hold you through it.

“I’m okay,” you rasp out, your throat still sore from the assault of Steve’s cock on your esophagus. “You need some water?” he asked, “That was a lot, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, was a lot,” you repeat, dazed. Eddie pulls you up from your knees gently and sits you on the bed, tilting your face toward him – your eyes unfocused with a dreamy smile.

“You’re not with us right now, huh?” Ed asks. You shake your head no, he sounds a little far away but his touch is electrifying. Before you know it, you’re being laid back down with the covers smoothing over you. The boys shushing and cooing praises on either side of your body, covering you in kisses to the face, your lips, your neck. You came to when a glass of cold water was pressed to your lips, an equally cool wash cloth wiping away the dried spend on your face. The biting cold of both shocked your nervous system, forcing you into a deep shuddering breath.

“There she is,” Steve hums, “There’s my girl.” “Hi,” you say, taking another sip of water. “Hi pretty,” Eddie whispers, nuzzled against your cheek. He presses his lips against it, “Lost you there for a second.”

“Sorry,” you say, but your time between sips was too long for Steve’s liking – he presses the glass to your lips again.

“Don’t apologize, baby. You did so good today,” Steve assures, “You were such a good girl.”

Such a good girl, such a good girl, such a good girl. You could float away at his words, the tone he says it in, the way he means it.

“I have to go start prepping the apples, so I’m gonna go down stairs,” Eddie starts, sliding to the edge of the bed, “But I’ll come back up later to come kiss you goodnight, okay?”

“Can I help?” you ask hopefully. “Why don’t you rest up a little bit more if you’re feeling up to it, you can come help me,” Eddie says, “That was a lot, you should just relax.”

“Okay,” your shoulders droop a little, but you know he’s right. You watch him go, stopping in the bathroom to clean up. Steve puts the empty glass on the bedside table, pulling you close to him. You sink into his arms, feeling protected under the bulge of his bicep flexing over your chest. “Today was nice,” his voice like the warm sugar on the donuts earlier.

“Today was nice,” you agree with a tired, happy sigh. You look at him, his eyes back to the honey brown you fell head over heels for, “I love you, Harrington.”

He blushes, hiding his face in your shoulder, always so vulnerable after a fuck like that. He leaves a peck on the flesh there before meeting your forehead with his. “I love you, too. I love you the most.”

– Midwinter, Early 1991

“Hey,” you hear Eddie’s voice, soft and gentle, “Wake up, baby.”

Your eyes peel open, you’re still in the van but parked. It’s dark out now, you must’ve fallen asleep. Your face feels puffy from crying, the familiar post sob aches creaked in your joints. His hand rubs your shoulder and you lean into it, turning to face him. “Hi sleepy,” he smiles, “Were you dreamin’?”

You nod, but you aren’t sure if you were dreaming – more so caught in a memory.

“We’re here, okay?” he asks, “You want to sit in the van for a minute and get your bearings?”

You rub your eyes and nod, looking out of the windsheild to see a cozy looking inn next to the small parking lot. You’re not sure where you are, but through the first floor windows you can see a fireplace and plush leather chairs. He wanted to take you somewhere safe, you think. Somewhere that doesn’t feel like home does right now. He’s taking you to some version of The Shire, just like in his books.

You hear Eddie get out of the car to collect your bags from the back, he looks over his shoulder with a fond smile. You feel warm and it’s not from the heat still blasting on you. Eddie feels so safe, just like he did on that tree branch at the apple orchard.

Your chest aches again, desperate for how it felt to be a trio again. How it was when Steve was okay, when Eddie wasn’t always on defense, when you weren’t afraid to come home some nights. Like it was before. Before you had a before. Before there was a before.

#THE STEDDIEVERSE #STEDDIE X READER #DOM!STEDDIE X READER #DOM!EDDIEMUNSON #DOM!STEVE HARRINGTON #DOM!STEVE HARRINGTON X READER #DOM!EDDIE MUNSON #DOM!EDDIE MUNSON X READER #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things au #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction

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ameliora-j · 2 years

Note

I want casual dominance w eddie so so bad !!!

Imagine being really tired when you come home, too tired to take off your makeup so eddie takes it off for you so your pillows dont get dirty :( gently wiping off your makeup with wipes and helping you brush your teeth so you guys can go to bed

he hooks his hands under your armpits and lifts you up before carrying you to the bathroom, sitting you on the counter and cleaning off your makeup, then brushing your teeth and washing your face all while you whine abt being sleepy and telling him to stop. and he’s j like “shhh angel daddy’s got you” :(((

#nani’s angels 👼🏽#fanmail 💌#eddie munson

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chiawrites · 5 years

Note

can you do like maybe just maybe nsfw alphabet but with EDDIE BROCK k thnkx bysies!

!! Yes I can and I certainly have so here we go

Pairing: Eddie Brock x Fem!Reader, generally gender neutral except for B

Word count: 1691

Warnings: NSFW, DO NOT SCROLL IF YOU’RE IN A PUBLIC PLACE lmao

Tags: anon and my little venomfuckers

A- Aftercare

Considering that this man is literally a loveable mess, he’s sweet as FUCK when it comes to aftercare. He’ll make sure to clean you up, reluctantly hand over one of his sweaters, and spoon you till you both fall asleep. He likes being the little spoon, (although he will NEVER tell you that) but when he’s the big spoon he’s very protective. Usually spooning leads to second rounds if you’re the little spoon. Just think of the “how to spoon: dick hard on the butt, tiddy in my hand” video of Anakin Skywalker lmao

B- Body Part

Well, see, a bi man will be a bi man, and Eddie, loving women, will definitely love your breasts. He likes peppering kisses across them during and after sex, and leaving little suckle marks. He most certainly has an issue with leaving hickies everywhere boobs are concerned. That and your hands, your nails, and any other part of your body that you use to leave marks on him. He likes it when you drag your nails down his back and leave red streaks from pressing too hard, or when you dig your fingers into his hair while his lips graze your neck.

C- Cum

This man is definitely not clean. Depending on if you use birth control or not, he prefers being able to get messy with you than wear a condom. In all honesty, the thing that turns him on the most is probably seeing you dripping from his own seed.

D- Dirty Secret

Oh-hoho he would never be able to muster up the courage to tell you but this man loves it when you’re on top. Not just because he has a front row seat to your body on display, but he’s aroused by the idea of you being dominant. It’s always been a kink of his to be tied down, albeit he hasn’t experienced it often. Back when he was with Anne, they experimented drunkenly maybe once, but never after that.

E- Experience

He isn’t as experienced as you’d think. Obviously he’s had sex before, he’s not a damn virgin, but he’s not much of a fan of one-night stands; so he hasn’t gotten around enough to know all the tricks of the trade. That said, he enjoys learning what makes you tick, and what pleases you.

F- Favourite Position

Cowgirl or doggystyle, hands down. Eddie loves having you on top, obviously. Seeing your breasts bounce every time your bodies thrust together, oh lord it makes him harder. He also loves doggystyle because of how you crumple face first into the pillow and try to muffle your moans for the neighbours. His favourite part about doggystyle is the control he has of your hips, grasping them and leaving crescent dents where his nails dug into your flesh. He loves seeing your ass in the air, just for him.

G- Goofy

This man is a goof. That’s it. His best jokes are always told when he’s pounding you from behind, gripping you tight.

No but on a more professional note- during foreplay, he loves to make you laugh. Seeing you enjoy yourself is the best part of sex, for him. He cannot stand uncomfortable and quiet nights of sex and nothing else. If theres no comical connection, it’s a turn off.

H- Hair

He’s not hairless like a siamese cat, but he prefers to trim himself at least once a week. Don’t ask him to shave down there, though, because even for you, he wouldn’t suffer being itchy and uncomfortable.

I- Intimacy

This guy is a hopeless romantic. Eddie will definitely tell you sappy stories about how much he loves you and what he would do for you. Sex isn’t purely sex just for pleasure for him, its a bond, and a sensual act that he uses to show how much he cares for you (and who exactly you belong to, but that’s on his top nights.) After sex, if you’re not immediately knocked out, he likes having long conversations with you on existentialism. He also loves the sound of your voice, and when you go on passionate rants about your interests.

J- Jack Off

There’s nothing I could write here that would even possibly be safe for work haha nice

Ever since the two of you got together, he hasn’t had much need, nor opportunity to masturbate. When he does, it’s only because he’s pent-up and you’re gone.

He prefers to watch you please yourself, if anything. The sight of you, probably thinking about messing around with him, getting off by yourself? God damn

K- Kinks

It’s been mentioned before but Eddie is a sucker for being tied down, tied up, and just generally bound. Whether its you tying him down, or him tying you down, he’s game for it. The idea of being restrained and forced to watch, but not touch is what makes him tick.

Another thing is size. He likes his partners smaller than him, so it’s easy to throw them over his shoulder and lift into different positions with ease. Eddie likes the idea of having to bend to reach your lips, or you having to go on your tips of your toes to press kisses to his neck.

L- Location

Eddie prefers the bedroom. He likes secluded places and comfortable surfaces to have sex on, namely his bed or yours. That said, he definitely is turned on by the risk of being caught if you two decide to have a quickie in a public place.

M- Motivation

The thing that gets him going is the anticipation of what’s to come. He likes teasing and being teased. He especially likes it when you send him pictures of you in lingerie. Not naked, but in undergarments, because it’s similar to the idea of unwrapping a gift. Eddie likes to use his imagination as motivation. Usually he starts thinking of various fantasies or past sexual encounters with you and he’s ready for another round.

N- No

Anything that has to do with abuse or non-consent role-play is an instant turn off. He refuses to hit you in any way, and dislikes the idea of gagging and/or blindfolding either of you. He likes to see your eyes and hear your whimpers anyways :-)

O- Oral

Giving or receiving, he’s good either way. He prefers giving, though. The thought of your thighs wrapped around his head, hands grasping at his hair as your hips move against the movements of his mouth? God yes.

Although he prefers being generous and considerate, Eddie won’t refuse head.

P- Pace

Eddie likes to start off slow, enjoying the way his thrusts feel inside you. But when you both start to get undone, there’s no limit to how much he’ll speed up. He isn’t often rough and quick, but when he is, it makes the climax all that more blissful.

Q- Quickie

He will do quickies if he or you are in a hurry, but he prefers the full time allowance. When you’re doing quickies, he prefers to pin you up on the wall of wherever you both are, and push into you from underneath. Your legs around his waist, pulling him in, prompt him to go faster.

R- Risk

Risk-taking is thrilling and sometimes exciting, but when it comes to extreme risk, like doing it in a public washroom or something of sorts, count him out. Since sex is an intimate act for him, the idea of other people spying and/or watching you two going at it for their own pleasure is a no-no.

S- Stamina

Eddie can last a long time before climaxing. That said, once he does, it’s unlikely he’ll go past two rounds. Sex can be anywhere between five minutes to thirty minutes, if the foreplay is good and lasts long enough.

T- Toys

The both of you don’t own many toys. He’s not exactly a fan, because he feels that genuine sex is better than silicon sex, but the few times he’d seen you getting off my yourself with a vibrator made him change his mind a little. Sometimes, when he’s going down on you, he’ll break out the vibrator along with his mouth and watch you go crazy for it.

W- Wild Card

He loves seeing you dressed up. Anything that’s tight around your ass, or that shows your cleavage will make it hard for him to keep his hands off you.

When it comes to being dressed up in lingerie, he prefers black or red. Those colours are undeniably sexy, for some subconscious reason. Eddie adores seeing you in slightly see-through lace, and gets handsy when you start to strip for him. That man will not deny a good striptease.

X- X-ray

Let’s see inside his pants, shall we?

Some would argue he’s the perfect size. 7 inches hard, thick enough to fill you up but not thick enough to hurt.

If he really wanted to, he could potentially get Venom to give him a size upgrade :-D

Y- Yearning

When Eddie really wants you, he’ll let you know. A hand on your thigh when you’re both eating out and you aren’t being innocent, a kiss to your jawline when you bring him meals at work and are dressed up and showing off while pretending like you’re in casual clothes, a long, passionate embrace when you leave in the mornings to go to your job- they’re all little signs that it’s going to get extremely heated later.

Z- Zzz

It doesn’t take the two of you long to fall asleep after sex. Sometimes if he’s still hard and you’re still awake, he’ll pull your back into his chest and lazily fuck you from behind. Usually you both fall asleep spooning, but on some occasions you’ve found your front glued to Eddie thanks to his arms pinning you in place at your waist, your faces only inches apart. Sleeping alongside him is more often than not a tangle of limbs and skin on skin. He prefers sleeping naked, because the skin contact helps comfort him, but otherwise he sleeps in a pair of boxers and a loose tee-shirt.

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hysterialevi · 5 years

Text

When the Devil Cries pt. 31

Fanfic summary: (NO SPOILERS IN THIS STORY) After arriving in Saint Denis, Arthur ends up falling in love with a seemingly innocent pianist, only to find himself in a battle with one of the most notorious outlaws to ever emerge from America. Now, between working for Dutch and robbing money for the gang, Arthur has to also protect the man he loves as the two of them try to find their freedom.

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Male OC

Previous chapter

This story is also on AO3

Author’s note: *pretends this chapter isn’t late af*

(no but seriously thank you guys for being so patient with my lazy ass. like i said before, i hit a writer’s block and didn’t really know what to do, but i also didn’t want to rush this chapter. so again, thanks for being patient and i hope you enjoy!)

From Atticus’ POV

A WHILE LATER

LEVITICUS’ OFFICE, ANNESBURG

“The trap failed?” Leviticus exclaimed in disbelief as he read the telegram. “We had nearly a dozen men guarding that stagecoach! How on Earth did Van Der Linde’s men manage to kill them all?”

I sat near one of the factory’s windows and casually held a pocket-watch in my palm, staring vehemently at Nathaniel’s portrait which was tucked neatly inside.

“It appears that we underestimated him,” I concluded. “Dutch may be broken, and he may be deluded...but he’s far from unintelligent. No fool would be capable of evading the law for as long as he has. We can’t approach him like some common criminal.”

Cornwall tossed the telegram onto his desk in frustration and let out a sharp breath.

“Well, there must be something we can do! The question is: what? The Pinkertons can’t catch him, the bounty hunters can’t catch him, and even we’ve failed to detain him. It seems as if this man is invincible.”

“He’s not,” I corrected. “None of us are.”

Leviticus placed his hands on his hip. “Well, of course. Though, I’m afraid I’m starting to run out of ideas, Mister Rose. I paid an incredible amount of money to the Pinkertons to aid them in their search for Van Der Linde, but still -- nothing. They give me excuses instead of results. This Dutch robs me, and laughs at me. How are we supposed to capture a man who is seemingly untouchable? It’s all just a mess.”

I stood up, gently snapping the pocket-watch closed.

“Well, if I’ve learned anything from my encounters with Dutch,” I stated, “it’s that he aspires to be a modern king without any willingness to build the throne himself. He helps the poor and abandoned in exchange for their blind loyalty, and casts out those who refuse to bow to him. So perhaps, Mister Cornwall, the solution is not to take down the man himself, but rather, the men around him.”

Leviticus’s head perked up in curiosity. “The men around him, you say? Any...specific names you might be thinking of?”

I pulled out a cigarette and stuck it between my lips, lighting the tip aflame. “...There is one. His name is Arthur Morgan. I understand he’s one of the more trusted members in the gang, and also the same man who happens to be protecting the boy I’m after. I can promise you it’d benefit both of us to kill him.”

Cornwall nodded steadily in agreement. “Yes...I believe I’ve met him before. If I’m not mistaken, he was with Dutch when I ambushed them in Valentine. There’s no denying he’ll be tough to take down, but he’s only one man. We should be able to get rid of him. How do you suggest we start?”

Before I could answer, a gentle thud came from the office’s door as a third party abruptly joined the conversation, causing me and Leviticus to bring our attention to the new arrival.

“Ah,” I said calmly, recognizing their face, “Rodrick. There you are.”

Sauntering into the room with a casual sway to his step, Rodrick gave me and Mister Cornwall a toothy grin as he lay a shotgun on his shoulder, immediately frightening the businessman with the amount of blood that was staining his suit.

“Morning, Atticus,” he greeted, his injured eye making it look as if he were winking. “Sorry to interrupt.”

Leviticus mindlessly backed up out of fear and pointed a shaky finger at Rodrick, looking to me for reassurance.

“Y-You know this man?”

“He’s one of mine,” I confirmed, introducing the two of them. “Mister Kingsley, this is the man I’ve been cooperating with this past week: Mister Cornwall.”

Rodrick chuckled and stepped in front of Leviticus, getting right in the oil man’s face. “...Oh, I know who he is. Pretty bastard’s portraits are all over the goddamned place.” He looked him up-and-down, his smile disappearing. “...I think I prefer you in the paintings.”

The other man stuttered at that and huffed grumpily in response, retreating to his desk while I poured myself a drink and started to ask Kingsley a few questions.

“Rodrick, any updates on Dutch’s camp?”

The redhead leaned against a wall, resting the shotgun on the floor. “Burned it to the ground just like you ordered.”

I took a sip. “Any survivors?”

He sighed in a regrettable yet somehow sarcastic manner. “A couple. I know Dutch managed to escape, and so did a few other nobodies. As for Arthur and Eddie, I think they was runnin’ west, last I saw ‘em. Slipped away during the gunfight, but I doubt they’ll get far. Eddie was injured before they could leave.”

I fell silent due to confusion, pausing for a moment. “Arthur didn’t go with Dutch?”

Rodrick laughed, shaking his head out of amusement. “...Oh, you wouldn’t believe it, but I watched the whole thing. Dutch’s gang tore itself apart before I even got involved. Ended up turnin’ on each other. They’ve all scattered to the winds now.”

I sent an ambitious glance in Cornwall’s direction, the two of us exchanging looks. “So Eddie and Arthur are all by themselves...”

Leviticus jumped back into the conversation, his expression suddenly fueled with motivation. “...As is Van Der Linde. Now is our chance to strike, Mister Rose! If we can manage to trap those reprobates while they’re lost in the wilds, they’ll drop like flies! All our problems will be solved. We must find them as soon as possible!”

Agreeing with Mister Cornwall, I finished the contents of my drink and prepared to head out, giving Rodrick a set of instructions as I made haste for the exit.

“You’re right. Mister Kingsley, return to camp and tell everyone to pack up. I’ll meet you there shortly to explain the plan in full detail, but right now we just need everyone to gather their things. We leave first thing in the morning.”

Rodrick pushed himself off the wall, swinging the shotgun back over his shoulder.

“Sure thing, Atticus.”

Cornwall gestured to himself. “And what of me? Is there any way I can assist?”

I halted in my tracks and glanced over my shoulder, stopping just in front of the office’s door.

“Ah, yes,” I recalled, bringing my focus back to the businessman. “I almost forgot.”

Turning to Rodrick, I reached an arm out in Leviticus’ direction and gave him one final command.

“Rodrick, would you kindly do me a favor and demonstrate an outlaw’s farewell to Mister Cornwall here?”

Instantly catching on to my meaning, the maniacal man smirked and prowled closer to Leviticus, cocking his shotgun in one swift motion.

“With pleasure.”

Backing away from Kingsley, Cornwall raised a defensive hand in front of himself and stammered in fear, staring at me with bewilderment as I took my leave.

“W-Wait, what?!” He blurted out. “A-Atticus! You can’t...you can’t possibly be serious! Mister Rose, please!”

Ignoring the businessman’s pleas for mercy, I simply opened the door and stepped out as if nothing was happening, promptly returning to camp while Rodrick dealt with our “friend.”

“Mister Rose!” Cornwall called out desperately, his voice being muffled by the walls.

“MISTER ROSE!”

The door shut itself closed behind me.

“MISTER ROSE--!”

Sending the factory into a deathly silence, an ear-splitting gunshot erupted from within the office as its explosive bang thundered throughout the halls, echoing in tune with the machinery’s enslaved humming.

I never thought I would say it, but it was finally time to deal with Theodore Bishop.

That little boy had been running away from me for years on end, and now, the chance to eliminate him had revealed itself at last.

There was just one more problem I had to deal with.

I knew Mister Bishop had a relentless guardian who would raise hell if I got anywhere near him, and I knew I would have no chance of killing that boy if I didn’t get rid of his protector first.

I had to ensure that Theodore was all by himself before I did anything else.

I had to make sure there wouldn’t be any chances of failure.

I had to kill Arthur Morgan.

~~~~~~~~~~

From Arthur’s POV

ONE DAY LATER

GRIZZLIES EAST

Desolation.

That was all I could see.

Contrary to the vibrant trees and diverse wildlife that surrounded Beaver Hollow, this place had nothin’ but miles of emptiness to fill its vast space, and a nerve-numbing breeze that chilled me to the bone.

Everywhere around us, there were pale, jagged mountains dominating the white horizon, and no matter how far I traveled or how long we rode, there didn’t seem to be a single sign of civilization.

There weren’t any towns, or saloons, or inns where we could’ve taken shelter -- and I certainly hadn’t spotted any doctors who could’ve taken care of Eddie’s leg.

We were all by ourselves in the middle of this frozen hell, and there was nowhere else we could run.

Nowhere except straight into our enemies’ hands.

“...H-Hold on, Eddie.” I whispered through chattering teeth as the boy weakly leaned his body against my back. “We’ll...we’ll be safe soon. We’ll find shelter. Just hold on. You hear me?”

Barely clingin’ onto consciousness, the pianist said nothing in response and simply rested his head on my shoulder, gently wrapping an arm around my waist as we trudged through the thick blanket of snow.

It was pretty clear that Eddie wasn’t gettin’ any better with the condition his leg was in, and part of me worried he would never truly recover from the injury. I mean, he could barely stand on his own anymore. What the hell were we gonna do if Atticus or Dutch found us? How was he gonna run? How were we gonna escape?

I just didn’t know where to go from this point.

Our camp was in ruins, Dutch had run off with Micah, Eddie couldn’t walk, Atticus was closin’ in on us, and for the first time in over two decades...I no longer had a gang to call family.

The world that had raised me to become an outlaw, and turned me into a man who cared only about money, was now collapsing ‘cause of the very same foundation that built it. The America I grew up in no longer existed, and now, reality was showin’ me the consequences of everything we had done.

But I wasn’t gonna fail this time.

I wasn’t gonna be the same man who failed to save Eliza or Isaac when they needed me. I was gonna put someone else’s life first for a change, and keep Eddie safe. No matter the cost. I just needed to keep him alive.

Ridin’ a bit deeper into the relentless blizzard, I felt a sense of relief wash over me when a small cabin suddenly revealed itself in the distance, causing me to take a better look at it with my binoculars.

The cabin was located right next to the edge of a large, icy lake -- a lake that looked strangely familiar, if I was bein’ honest -- and there was a short pier extending over the water next to it with a boat sittin’ nearby.

As for the cabin itself, it didn’t look like any mounts had been tied to the hitching post recently, and there were no lights illuminating from inside. The building appeared completely still -- aside from the strong breeze howlin’ past it -- and I couldn’t see any tracks leading up to the front door. It must’ve been abandoned.

I quickly put my binoculars away, instantly urgin’ my horse into a steady gallop as she dug her hooves into the snow.

“Look, Eddie,” I said, pointing ahead, “...you see that? There’s a cabin. We’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna get you inside, and I’m gonna get a nice fire going. You’re gonna be alright. Just...just stay strong. Okay? Don’t die on me now. Don’t you die.”

~~~~~~~~~~

A FEW MINUTES LATER

O’CREAGH’S RUN

Kickin’ the cabin’s door open, I firmly held my pistol out in front of me and searched the house in case somethin’ nasty was waiting inside, only to find myself in the middle of a cold, dead house.

It didn’t look like anyone had been here in ages. There were empty cans of food scattered all over the kitchen table, stiff coats hangin’ lifelessly from hooks on the wall, mounted animal heads fixed above the fireplace, dusty photographs decorating the bleak interior, and nothin’ but ashes sitting in the place of what was once a warm fire.

It looked safe enough to stay for a few days -- or at least until Eddie could walk on his own again -- and there were also loads of winter clothes just lyin’ around for us to take. I didn’t have a clue what happened to their previous owner or what caused them to leave, but it was better than freezin’ our asses off in that goddamned snowstorm.

I put my gun away, deciding this would have to do for now.

Headin’ back outside, I slowly pushed through the dying blizzard and walked towards my horse as my boots sank into the crunchy snow below, hindering me much more than I expected.

It was tough enough navigating our way around here -- what with the ice-cold weather and lack of any civilization -- but it certainly didn’t help matters that we were both starving, tired, and entirely sleep-deprived.

I could only imagine how Eddie felt with that injured leg of his. Not only did the boy look like hell, the kid had also barely said a word to me ever since we fled from Beaver Hollow.

There was a certain hopelessness to him that I’d never seen before -- the same kind that Hosea carried in his final moments -- and even though he didn’t say it, I knew he thought we were both gonna die out here.

He just didn’t seem to care about anything anymore, now that our chances of survival were so low. And despite my reassurances, Eddie almost appeared to be...lost in his own head. As if he were finally learnin’ how to accept his own death. Like...he was comin’ to terms with the end. As if he believed our efforts had been for nothing.

...But I wasn’t gonna allow it.

We had fought too goddamned hard to die now. The whole word may have been against us, and Dutch may have been seekin’ revenge, but this wasn’t the first time Eddie and I had been forced to survive in the wilderness. We both knew what we were doing, and no matter how hard our enemies fought back, I wasn’t about to let ourselves get killed now.

We had to survive. We had to make it through this.

Steppin’ next to my horse, I looked up at Eddie who was currently slouched over in the saddle and placed a comforting hand on his lap, attempting to wake the boy up now that the sun was starting to sink behind the icy mountains.

“Hey,” I said, “I checked the cabin out. It looks pretty safe. Doesn’t seem like anyone’s been there for quite some time, and there’s also a fireplace inside. I think we can stay here for a while. What d’you think?”

Forcing his eyes open, Eddie weakly gazed at me and wrapped his coat tighter around himself, mumbling out a response.

“...Sounds good to me. Hell, anything does, so long as it’ll get us out of this...bloody snow...”

I reached my arms out, beckoning Eddie to climb down from the horse. “C’mon,” I offered, “I’ll help you down.”

Surprisingly, the boy refused.

“...N-No,” he protested, holding a hand up, “I...I can walk...”

“No, you can’t.” I insisted before scoopin’ Eddie into my arms and carrying him anyway. “Your leg is torn up. It’s gonna be a while until you’re walkin’ around anywhere on your own, but don’t worry. I’m gonna set you down somewhere, and...I’ll...I’ll have a look at it, I guess. See what else I can do.”

Eddie gave in to my persistence and practically melted into my grasp, croaking out his next words as he wrapped an arm ‘round my shoulder.

“...T-Thank you, Arthur.”

Taking Eddie to the front of the cabin, I pushed the door open with my foot and carefully brought the boy inside, rushing him over to the couch in front of the fireplace.

It wasn’t the softest or most extravagant couch -- and it looked like the cold had hardened it a bit, actually -- but it was right next to the only source of heat in the whole house. There were a lot worse places we coulda been at the moment, and I was just grateful we found some shelter to last us for more than a single night. It would have to do.

Gently layin’ Eddie on the couch, I paused for a moment when he let out a pained groan and checked to make sure he was okay before placing him down completely, allowing him to sink into the welcoming cushions.

“You alright?” I asked, earning a small nod from the pianist.

“...I-I think so.” He replied.

I knelt beside the couch, gesturing to his leg. “You, uh...mind if I take a look?”

Eddie sighed worriedly, clearly not eager to see the condition his injury was in. “I suppose someone will have to, eventually. Just...try not to move it around too much, okay? It...it hurts like hell.”

Slippin’ one of Eddie’s boots off, I placed the shoe aside and took hold of his knee before very delicately pulling up the edge of his pants, steadily unveiling a bloody mess as I untied the bandage I put there earlier.

It looked like the skin around the wound had only grown more agitated over the past day, and due to the lack of proper medical treatment, I could only assume it wouldn’t be too long before Eddie got somethin’ life-threatening like blood poisoning.

After all, there wasn’t much else I could do ‘cept for clean the wound and keep it from gettin’ infected. But even then, I didn’t know how to deal with an injury of this severity. There were no doctors around to help us out, and I weren’t exactly an expert when it came to stuff like this.

Goddammit. There had to be somethin’ I could do.

“...I won’t lie to you, Eddie,” I admitted with a nervous sigh. “It don’t look so good. The bleeding’s stopped for now, but we’re gonna need a professional to handle this.”

The pianist clenched his jaw in fear. “We don’t...we don’t have to...get rid of the leg, do we?”

“No!” I quickly assured. “No. It ain’t that bad. You’ll be fine. I’m sure we’ll think of something. In the meantime, you just rest, okay? I’m gonna get a fire going. It’s freezin’ in here.”

Standing up from the floor, I left Eddie alone for the time being and tossed a few logs into the fireplace before lightin’ a match on my boot, setting the wood aflame. It weren’t much compared to the wintry nightmare outside, but it shoulda been enough to warm this cabin up for now.

“Alright,” I said, turnin’ back to Eddie, “I’m gonna head outside for a little and see if I can’t find us somethin’ to eat. You gonna be okay on your own?”

Eddie barely nodded in response, already half-asleep. “...I’ll be fine...”

“Okay, then. I’ll be back soon.”

Grabbin’ my hand just before I could leave, the pianist held me back for a second as he uttered one last thing, rubbing my palm affectionately.

“...Please, stay safe, Arthur. We’re all we have now...and I don’t wanna see you end up like me. Or worse.”

I bent down, placin’ a quick but loving kiss on Eddie’s forehead.

“We’re gonna make it, Eddie.” I reassured. “Don’t give up just yet. ‘Cause I haven’t given up on you.”

“...I won’t.” Eddie promised, softly closing his eyes as he relaxed into the couch’s embrace. “I won’t.”

“Good.” I patted his hand. “Now get some sleep. I’m gonna go hunting for a bit. I won’t be too long.”

Leavin’ Eddie to his dreams, I gave the boy one final peck on the cheek and headed for the cabin’s foyer, eager to find us some food.

We weren’t gonna last much longer if we didn’t get somethin’ proper to eat soon -- and I didn’t know about Eddie -- but surviving off of chewing tobacco and canned sweetcorn didn’t sound like it’d get us far. Especially him.

Eddie needed strength now more than anything. His health was deteriorating at a dangerous pace, and I just hoped it wasn’t too late to do something about that leg of his.

We needed a way outta this situation, and we needed it fast.

The only question was...how were we gonna find it?

Swingin’ the front door open, I wasted no time in throwing myself back out into the snow as I hurried to my horse, only to notice that there was a stranger standing directly in my path.

At first, my initial instinct was to reach for my gun -- and I actually almost shot him on the spot -- but the closer I looked at the peculiar man, the less I saw him as a threat.

The man in front of me appeared to be in his late fifties or sixties and had a full head of grey hair as well as a long beard huggin’ the bottom of his jaw. He wore a wide, floppy hat with a feather attached to it along with a long, yellow coat, and the rest of his body was dressed in casual attire.

The one thing about him that really caught my attention though, was the rickety crutch tucked tightly under his armpit, and more importantly, the intricate, prosthetic leg secured to his knee.

Oh, Jesus Christ. I certainly hoped he wasn’t mirroring Eddie’s future.

Hobbling a few steps closer to me, the old man firmly aimed a revolver in my direction as he glanced at the fresh smoke comin’ from the cabin’s chimney, wonderin’ just who the hell I was.

He didn’t appear to be afraid of me or show any signs of nervousness, and if I was being honest, he actually seemed quite strong. There wasn’t a single hint of fear hidin’ in his expression, and judging by the majestic, golden horse that was trottin’ along beside him, I assumed this old man weren’t as feeble as he looked. It only piqued my interest in him more.

Bringin’ his stern, green eyes back to me, the stranger subtly flicked his gaze up and down as he examined me head-to-toe, forming an observation in his head before finally saying something, at last.

I could tell he wanted to just scare me off and be done with it, but I guessed something about the urgent demeanor I carried and the way I moved told him I was in need of somebody’s help. And being the good Samaritan he was...he just couldn’t shoo me away.

Breaking the silence, the old man tilted his head in suspicion and fearlessly walked up to me, finally decidin’ to greet the odd cowboy who had suddenly occupied his home.

“Nice of you to get the fire going.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #eddie ryan #arthur morgan x male oc #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 story

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takealottodragmeawayfromreddie · 6 years

Text

Filling the blanks - Chapter 4

Pairing: Richie x Eddie x Bill (Reddie at the start).

Summary: During his last moments, Eddie realized he had something to say, but before he could finish the sentence, he was gone. Now he’s stuck between life and death and he knows he won’t be able to rest until he takes care of what he started. The only person he trusts enough to help him is Bill.

Or: The ghost AU where Eddie’s spirit can get inside of Bill’s mind to ask him for help to tell Richie he loved him.

Warnings: Canon Divergence (IT actually kills Audra) and, of course, death of major character. Some really heavy internalized homophobia in this chapter. Like, really heavy. Even some use of the F word that isn’t “fuck”. So, yeah, please be careful, the whole point of this fic is to make y’all have a good time, not triggering you <3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

AO3 link

Playlist on Spotify (mostly songs about Heaven and duel related stuff and 1980s hits)

And, as always, shout out to my beta reader @golden-marauders. Without their help, Richie would have a big obsession with coffee tables on this chapter. They’re amazing and super patient with me.

“Yeah?” Richie’s tired voice comes from the speaker of the electric doorbell.

Bill isn’t aware of what he had just done until he hears him. Before that, he simply pushed the button and waited for something to happen. It doesn’t feel that meaningful. But now, now that he knows Richie is there and there’s no way of going back, it all acquires a new importance. It’s weird how so many little actions like getting an airplane ticket, sitting on a plane and taking a cab can sum up to become such a transcendental experience. That’s all it takes to end forty years of denial. And a paper boat can be enough to break a family.

“Who’s there?” Richie insists, openly annoyed.

Bill clears his throat and notices Eddie’s difficult breathing in the back of his mind.

“H-hi, Rich. It’s B-Bill and…”

Wait. Not yet.

“It’s Bill,” he corrects himself.

Richie doesn’t say anything.

“B-Bill Denbrough. From… D-Derry.”

Bill licks his lips as they both wait patiently. Is a week all it takes? They can’t be sure. Being together, it’s obvious they won’t forget. But Richie is alone, and maybe he’s perfectly capable of moving on that fast.

“R-Remember?”

This time, Richie sighs.

“Yeah, of course. Give me a second.”

Suddenly, the gate starts vibrating.

“Come in.”

Bill nods as if Richie could see him and pushes the door open. It’s heavy. When he comes in and hears it closing behind him, he finds out everything in that house seems heavy, grandiloquent, exaggerated. The garden is way too big. Not even that complex, with lots of flowers or fountains or shrubs with animal shapes. Just plain large; foot after foot of short grass, healthy and bluish under the moonlight, and a broad way of gravel zigzagging all the way to the front porch. There’s probably a pool in the backyard, but this side of the house looks huge and vaguely upsetting. Vaguely empty.

They make it to the door and Richie is standing there. Bill can tell Eddie is nervous because he feels it in his own stomach and often finds himself fighting against the instinct of running away as he keeps moving forward.

“Calm down,” he warns him in a low voice.

Sorry.

The yellow light that comes from the inside through the open door, makes Richie look like a shadow, so it’s impossible to imagine how he’s feeling until they’re face to face with him. It’s a mixture of a well-received surprise and the expected fear of this meeting being about bad news.

“Hey,” he says, obviously trying to play it cool.

“H-hey,” Bill replies, scratching the back of his head.

They get quiet for a brief moment, Richie awkwardly looking around in search of something to say that can interrupt such a dense silence.

“It’s… good to see you again, Big Bill.”

The familiar nickname catches him off guard. It almost takes him back to the town they grew up in, where they went through the most traumatic experiences they could have imagined, where they learned that no one cared about anything. Where they lost two friends.

“I’m glad to s-see you, too, R-Richie,” he smiles, but it doesn’t seem genuine.

Richie nods, chuckling a bit. His content laugh fades away when he remembers what happened.

“I heard about your wife… I mean, not that I had to hear about it, I was there, but, you know. Everyone is talking about it on T.V. and... it sucks. It really sucks. I’m sorry, man. I didn’t get the chance to tell you I’m sorry back then.”

He gives Bill a small pat on the shoulder and Bill can’t help but smiling with sadness because of such a friendly gesture.

“I’m s-sorry, too. Thank you.”

“No problem. Just keep moving forward and you’ll be fine. It’s all about surviving.”

“W-well,” he says, staring at his feet, “It’s always been about sur-surviving, r-right?”

He notices Richie has gotten tense. It’s clear that they’re taking this ‘grown-up conversation’ way too far for him. He takes his time to talk again and, when he does, Bill can tell he’s trying to take weight out from the whole thing.

“It’s getting kind of chilly, don’t you think? Wanna come inside and… I don’t know, maybe have a beer or something?”

“I’ll say no to the b-beer, but I can… c-come in, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t. You’re lucky that all the strippers already left,” he jokes as they go into the house, “And I hope you don’t mind if I say yes to that beer.”

“Not at all, R-Rich.”

Richie closes the door behind them and Bill finds out he’s in the fanciest place he has ever seen. The interior of the building is even bigger, with a large corner sofa right in the middle of the living room, modern furniture like Barcelona chairs everywhere and a transparent coffee table along with them, and a huge kitchen integrated to the landscape. The dominant colors are black and white and several pieces of contemporary art —that Richie probably despises secretly— hang from the tall walls.

Astonished by the luxuries that surround them, Bill walks towards the couch and sits down, while Richie goes to the fridge and gets his beer.

“You sure you don’t want one?” he asks, not looking at him.

“No, t-thank you.”

“Alright, you’re the guest. But I wouldn’t sit there if I were you. Actually, I wouldn’t sit anywhere in this house.”

“W-why?”

“If something is in my house, I probably fucked someone on it.”

Before Bill can process what he just heard, his body stands up.

That’s it. I’m leaving.

“No!” He exclaims, louder than he intended to sound.

Richie stares at him from the kitchen, beer in hand and eyes wide open.

“Shit, I was kidding. I love that couch. I wouldn’t fuck anyone on it.”

Both Bill and Eddie sigh with relief and sit down again.

“Chill out, man,” Richie continues, “You look like you just—”

“Heard a ghost?”

“I was gonna say ‘saw’ but okay, you’re the writer.”

After shrugging, Richie goes back to the living room, sets the bottle on the coffee table and takes a seat next to Bill.

“Uh… you’ve got a… a n-nice house,” Bill comments, not sure of how to start a conversation.

Richie’s eyes seem to light up.

“Oh, why, thank you, Billy, my darling!” He answers, in a ridiculous southern belle voice, “Momma will be so pleased to know you find the family farm quite this—”

“Beep beep, R-Richie,” he chuckles.

They share a quick laugh. Bill can hear Eddie laughing, too. It feels so much like the old times he’s certain that he would be crying, if they weren’t busy enjoying the moment. But it doesn’t last long. As soon as the importance of the real reason they are there comes to light again, he stops. And Richie must feel the new atmosphere of seriousness, because he stops, too.

“Hey, I don’t wanna look like a bad host or anything, but… what brings you to my humble abode?”

It’s time. This isn’t a casual visit, and Richie knows it. He has to tell him the truth or give Eddie the space to say it himself. He waits a few seconds, but nothing happens. Eddie, who just instants ago was controlling him to leave because of a disgusting joke, is nowhere to be seen or heard. He won’t even talk.

“It’s…” Richie says, his grin falling and turning into a worried expression, “Everything’s fine, right? It’s not… It isn’t… Everything’s just… fine, isn’t it? I mean, we tore Its heart out. We…”

Bill soon gets what Richie is thinking.

“Oh, no, of… of course. It’s not about… It’s d-dead. It won’t c-come back.”

“Oh, great,” Richie exhales, relieved, “Well, you could have said that first, don’t you think?”

“S-sorry, I guess I’m a bit… n-nervous,” he smiles.

“Nervous? Why?”

Bill stares down at his own hands, fingers intertwined on his lap, foot tapping the carpet.

“I… Y-you know, with everything… what happened to A-Audra. We were… we were making a m-movie and now… Now I’ve got to talk to p-producers and get a new… a new actress or… cancel the p-project.”

“Oh, so… business trip, huh?”

“Yeah, buh-business trip. And I… I thought I could visit ‘cause… Well, we for-forgot once. We could make thing d-different this… this time. Like… keep in touch.”

This is not going like they planned. This wasn’t supposed to happen. But Richie seems so genuinely glad because he thought about continue with their friendship, that he doesn’t have the heart to rain on his parade. Maybe it’s better that way. He needs Richie to trust him as much as he can, if he wants the whole ‘unfinished business’ thing to work out.

“Uh…” Richie replies, “Yeah, why not? I mean, Bev kinda wanted to do something similar. She gave me her number and all. You know we were really—”

“C-close. Yeah, I know,” he nods, “So, have you… called her?”

“Nah, I don’t know if I will.”

“W-why?”

“She probably changed all her ways of contact, after… Well, after all the shit that sick fuck did to her. And she’s gonna marry Haystack, remember? They’re even looking for a baby. Even though I’d be the most amazing uncle ever, families aren’t my thing. They deserve their cute, suburban life, without someone to remind them of… of what happened. I guess the past is in the past for a reason… Shit, that’s deep.”

“It really is, R-Rich,” Bill chuckles, “But I don’t… I don’t think you’re right about t-that.”

“About what?”

“F-families not being your… your thing.”

“Oh, Bill, come on. ‘Hey, Haystack Jr., look, it’s Uncle Trashmouth!’ and I show up wasted and with two models in short dresses under each arm. Can you imagine?”

He shakes his head while frantically laughing, and Bill can’t help but laugh, too.

“It doesn’t sound that b-bad,” he jokes.

“No, you don’t get it. It’s Haystack Jr.’s birthday party. He’s turning five and all his friends from kindergarten are there! And then I try to hit on his super-hot teacher and pass out on the cake.”

“Okay, you’d be the w-worst uncle ever,” he agrees, still laughing, “But that doesn’t mean f-families aren’t your thing.”

“What makes you think that?”

“R-Richie, we are family. We always… we always were. Since f-forever. And you were always t-there for me. For… for everyone.”

Something changes in Richie’s face when he says that. His features get softer, sadder. He looks down and Bill knows, in that moment, that he broke his shell.

“Not for everyone,” Richie mumbles, and reaches out to get his beer and give it a sip.

“W-what… what do you mean?”

His friend laughs bitterly.

“We were the lucky seven. How many of us are still around?”

“Rich…”

“How many of us are still around, Bill?” He insist, a little more firmly.

“F-five, but—”

“That’s right, five!” He settles his beer back on the table with a loud noise and stands up, “Five of seven. Fucking five of seven.”

“R-Richie, that doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“Oh, it doesn’t?”

“Of c-course it doesn’t!” he snaps, “We had a d-decision to make. You and I decided to c-come back, Stan decided to… to run away. That doesn’t m-make him better or worse, but it was his… his choice.”

“Oh, right, it was his choice. And what about what Eddie chose? Did he chose what happened to him, too?”

“W-well… yeah. No one f-forced him to—”

“Don’t give me that shit. It was us who were staring at the deadlights. It was us who left him alone, even knowing he was like a lost fucking puppy.”

“That’s b-bullshit! He wasn’t like… like that. What he did was b-brave.”

“Yeah, and you really taught him how to be brave, didn’t you? You really taught how to not give a shit.”

“Eddie didn’t n-need me to teach him how to be b-brave, ‘cause he was!”

“And how did he end? Huh, Bill, how did he end? What did ‘being brave’ bring to him?”

“He s-saved us.”

“Don’t say that.”

“W-why not? He did!”

“No, fuck you. Don’t turn his death into a poetic sacrifice or something like that. This is not one of your novels. He was coughing blood, Bill! It was dirty, it was disgusting, it was everything he hated… And we left him there. You made me leave him there.”

“W-what was I supposed to do? Carry his… his body out of the f-fucking sewers? It was still alive! It had my w-wife. My wife was still… a-alive.”

“And where she is now? Cool, we killed It, when are your wife and your brother coming back to life? When are Stan and Eddie coming back to life?”

Bill doesn’t answer. He just stares up at Richie, who was walking around the coffee table until a few seconds ago, and is now standing in front of him. By the look in his eyes, Bill can tell he regrets what he said. And of course he’s mad. Damn, he’s infuriated. He wants to punch Richie on his stupid face for all the poisonous things that come from his mouth.

But this is not about Richie. He needs to remember this is not about Richie. It’s about Eddie and, even if Richie doesn’t want to see him like that, for Bill, Eddie is a hero and his sacrifice was the most poetic and worthy thing ever.

Richie sighs.

“Shit, man,” he says, rubbing his temples, “That was a shitty thing to say. I’m sorry.”

“It’s a-alright, Rich.”

“I’m just…” He sits down beside him once more, “Look, I really don’t wanna talk about Eds, okay? I just don’t wanna think about him.”

“Maybe that means we should… we should start t-talking about it.”

“No, I really don’t—”

“Maybe you s-should.”

“Why?”

“It’ll make you feel b-better.”

“I’ll feel better when I can’t remember anything of this shit.”

“But you can… f-feel better now.”

Richie groans, exasperated, and stands up.

“Ugh, you really want me to talk about my feelings? Fine, I’ll tell you how I feel. Take notes to use it in one of your stupid books, if you want.”

Bill nods in signal of being prepared to listen.

“Here’s how I feel,” Richie continues, “I feel like a fucking asshole, okay? That’s exactly how I feel: like a fucking asshole.”

“R-Richie—”

“No, listen to me. Remember when we met again? When we all, except Stan, were there? Everyone was excited. I mean, yeah, it was the worst situation possible, but we were glad to see each other again. ‘Cause we were best friends and we missed each other. Well, wanna know how I felt when I saw him?”

He makes a pause and Bill doubts if he’s waiting for an answer before telling him. However, Richie keeps talking without any confirmation.

“I was disappointed. I was so fucking disappointed I wanted to… I don’t know, to go back home!”

Bill feels a flip on his stomach and that’s the only way he can tell Eddie hasn’t left. He rubs his own shoulder in an attempt of comforting him.

“I was disappointed ‘cause I remembered everything. How ‘brave’ he was. How he didn’t take shit from anyone, not even me. He always spoke his mind and called me out when he thought I was being an idiot. Damn, when we were kids, I’m sure he could have bit my fingers off if I tried to pinch his cheek on a bad day.

”He even told his mom to fuck off when he found out about all the lies she told him. And you know how scared of that woman he was. Eds basically… feared nothing. But he changed. You can’t tell me he was the same when we met again.”

“Of c-course he wasn’t. So many… so many y-years…”

“No. It’s not about growing up. He didn’t grow up; he gave up.”

“W-what are you—?”

“He gave up, Bill! He grew softer. After all the shit that woman did to him, he ran right under her boot again when he had the chance. He yelled at her and then apologized, and looked after her ‘till she died. I heard him talking to his wife on the phone when we were in Derry. She’s the fucking same person his mother was! She controlled him in the same way his mother did. And he took it. And he told her he loved her and couldn’t wait to go back to her. Thirteen years old Eddie wouldn’t take that. He would fight back. And then I realized that that Eddie didn’t exist anymore… and I felt so disappointed. I couldn’t believe he allowed the world to tame him.”

I didn’t mean to leave. I didn’t mean to do anything of that.

It’s the first time Eddie speaks in a while, and Bill knows he expects him to say that out loud. But Richie is not over yet.

“And then he… Then he kicked Bowers’ ass. He killed him. And he went and died for us. I know he died for us, okay? I just don’t wanna think about it. And I felt… and now I feel like an asshole. ‘Cause I felt disappointed on a friend that gave his life for mine. There, that’s how I feel. Are you happy now?”

Bill, tell him I didn’t mean to leave. Please.

“H-he didn’t mean to leave, R-Richie.”

Richie looks confused.

“What?”

I made a promise.

“He made a p-promise.”

“A promise?”

She didn’t want me to hang out with you guys anymore. She wanted to lock me away from everyone.

“His mom. His mom didn’t want him to… to s-see us.”

“What the—”

I promised her I’d took every pill and be with her forever if she…

“He p-promised her he… he’d do whatever she w-wanted…”

Didn’t make me get away from you.

“If she didn’t… make him get a-away from… from us.”

Richie thinks it over. His expression is skeptical, but Bill knows he’s trying to process it. He isn’t opposed to trust him and what he’s saying, it’s just that it’s not only hard to believe, but it also feels so far away. Bill has been with Eddie this whole week, his questions were answered and he had time to digest all the new information.

For Richie, who spent all these days alone and is consciously waiting to forget and resume his life, the events around It must feel, at best, like an odd dream he doesn’t want to remember. Being face to face with what happened has to be a big shock. They all thought it was over, and now it proves it will stay with them for years, even if they can’t put their finger on what is going on.

“How…” Richie begins, and Bill holds his breath, “How do you know that?”

“Uh… S-sorry?”

“How do you know about that? How can you know about that promise Eddie supposedly made?”

That’s it. If he keeps waiting for the right moment, it will never come. The right moment is now.

“’Cause Eddie… Eddie is not g-gone.”

Richie takes his time to answer.

“Fuck, really? You’re giving me the ‘he will live forever in our hearts’ speech? That’s why you came here?”

“No, R-Richie, you don’t… you don’t get it.”

“I totally get it. Alright, the man is dead, he was our friend, it sucks. Poor guy, seriously, what a shitty way to go. But he’s gone and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“H-he’s not gone. Lis-listen to me—”

“You’re the one who wanted to care for the people who are still around. I don’t say it in an ‘it’s all your fault’ way. I mean, you’re right, let’s worry about the living, that’s the best thing to do. And… I’m a Christian, too, you know? Okay, the worst Christian ever, but I still am. If believing that those who left are somewhere and look after us is your thing, that’s amazing. But I—”

“I-I’m not giving you the… the f-fucking ‘he lives in our h-hearts’ speech, id-idiot,” Bill interrupts him, frustrated, “I can literally hear him in my… h-head.”

Richie frowns. Until now, the tone of his voice has been empathetic, almost amused, like he thinks Bill is going through a denial phase and he doesn’t want to break his bubble. Like he’s so over this all that listening to Bill talking about Eddie still being around awakes his compassion. Now, that compassion is gone. He stays in silence for an instant, he takes a few steps back, and everything that’s left is perplexity.

“What?” He questions.

“I know it’s hard to b-believe, but… Eddie’s here. Here,” he taps his own temple with his index finger, “He’s inside my… my head.”

“Uh… are you into scientology or another crazy celebrity cult? ‘Cause this sounds like cult stuff.”

“N-no, please, listen. Eddie d-died, but he couldn’t… he couldn’t leave. He still had something to d-do on… on Earth.”

“Oh, so you are into a cult. Okay, won’t judge you, I just… It’s scientology, right?”

“Will you just h-hear me out, please?”

“I just wanna know if it’s scientology!”

“No, I’m not into fucking s-scien-—”

“Scientology,” he finishes, pointing at him.

“What-whatever, I’m not. J-just listen. E-Eddie got into my b-body because he had to… to do something. And that’s why I’m h-here.”

“Buddhism!” He exclaims.

“No! F-fuck, no, you don’t even know what B-Buddhism is ab-about, do you?”

“I first thought about Judaism, but Stan was Jewish and he never got possessed or anything like that.”

“Fucking God…”

“Are you sure it isn’t scientology?”

Bill groans and stands up.

“I’m not a fucking s-scien-scientologist! This isn’t… This isn’t r-religious stuff or cult stuff or w-whatever you said. I’m telling you the truth! A f-few days ago, Eddie got into my body and asked for my help. He said he wanted to leave, but… h-he couldn’t. He has un-unfinished business and he won’t rest ‘till he takes c-care of it. It has something to… something to do with you and that’s why I came. I’m just trying to h-help him.”

“Man, are you okay? You want me to call someone or anything? Are you doing drugs?”

“He’s here r-right now.”

“’Cause let me tell you, drugs aren’t cool at all, okay? If your friends pressure you to take them, they’re not your friends.”

“He’s hearing this whole c-conversation.”

“Bill, I won’t ask you again, put all your drugs on the table.”

“Please, R-Richie! You’ve got to listen. He… he needs you to l-listen.”

Richie growls.

“Okay! If it means that much for you, tell me. C’mon, tell me what ‘Eddie needs me to know’. I’m sure it’s gonna be bullshit.”

“Y-you’re such an idiot! He was in love with you!” Bill snaps.

This time, he seems to reach the part of Richie that has been hiding during the whole meeting. Sure, he had his emotional moments, but now he looks so hurt, so enraged, Bill starts thinking he’d be capable of committing murder at this point.

“Excuse me?”

Bill crosses his arms over his chest. Even though he is scared, he has to stay firm.

“W-what I said.”

Richie takes a deep breath, as he’s trying to calm down. He probably doesn’t want to harm him and has to put a lot of effort into controlling himself.

“If that was supposed to be a joke, you should leave the comedy to me, Big Bill.” He quietly warns.

Bill gulps, building up enough courage to not withdraw what he’s saying.

“It’s not… it’s not a joke.”

“Bill, really, take that back. This isn’t fucking funny.”

“It’s not a j-joke!”

“Look, I’m really trying here, alright? I’m trying not to break your nose for this, ‘cause you’re my friend and I care for you and I know you’re going through some heavy shit right now. But if you don’t—”

“J-just think about it! Why… why would I l-lie to you? W-we fought an… an evil demon clown! Is this… That’s not harder to be-believe?”

“No, it’s not fucking harder to believe! I saw that thing, It was there, It killed people. But you’re telling me our dead friend is inside your body or whatever and that he was…”

“I-in love with you,” he completes, soft and careful.

The words still affect Richie like the first time he pronounced them. It’s like Richie is sticking to his common sense, looking for a logic explanation, and every time Bill tells him Eddie loved him, it goes past his rational side and goes straight to his unconsciousness. He is not ready to accept it, but he knows it.

Despise this, it doesn’t pulls him out from his anger for too long.

“Okay, you’re asking for it,” he tells him, a look of determination and fury in his eyes as he walks towards Bill, rolling up his sleeves.

Bill wants to stand there and use his words, try to bring Richie back to his senses without physical violence. But during his attempt to be polite, a fist gets shot against the air, and it passes so close to his face he realizes talking is not an option.

Luckily, Richie had a beer and is upset, while Bill remains sober and functional, so his reflexes are enough for him to bend and avoid another punch.

“P-please, you’ve got to—” he begs, taking the first chance he gets to run away from his reach.

“Shut up!” Richie shouts, going after him and throwing more arbitrary hits that never touch him.

They trot around the couches and chairs of the living room, even walking over them when it’s necessary. Bill knows Richie is not at his best form. When they were kids, it would have been a very tough fight and any of them could have won, but now Bill is sure he’s capable of sending his friend to the hospital.

He doesn’t have a reason to escape. Also, escaping wouldn’t be a hard thing to do. If he hurries, he can get to the door and Richie won’t ever be able to find him.

There’s a lot of things he could do, but only one will help Eddie.

“R-Richie, I don’t wanna… I don’t wanna fight with y-you…” He says when he’s at a safe distance.

“Oh, you don’t wanna fight?” Richie mocks him, shortening the gap between them, “Sure, you’re so over this, aren’t you? You’re so fucking mature. Well, if you really wanna be a man, then come here and fucking fight like one!”

Bill is cornered now. His back is touching the front door —subtly palming the doorknob, in case he can’t no longer control the situation— and he can smell the alcohol in Richie’s breath and feel his hands grabbing his collar. They’re in pause, no more pulling or throwing fists, but it won’t last. They both know it won’t last.

“I-I’m not gonna fight you. I… I won’t. You’re my f-friend.”

“Then why are you doing this, Bill? What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you… I don’t know, are you gay for me? You want my dick or something? I mean, c’mon, your wife died like… a week ago! What do you want from me?”

“I’m not gay! I’m just… I’m trying to… to help E-Eddie.”

Richie reliefs a cynical laugh.

“You’re trying to help Eddie? How? What the hell are you talking about?!” he reclaims, shaking him.

“I already… t-told you. I promised I’d… I’d h-h-help him.”

His eyes are starting to burn, filling with tears that Richie doesn’t seem to mind. His fury is consuming him, turning him into someone else. If the term ‘monster’ applied for them like it applies for common people, that would be the word to describe him right now.

“You’re fucking crazy, Bill! I don’t know what this all about, why you’re trying to make me believe in your ghost bullshit or what do you want from me, but you’ll shut the fuck up. I don’t wanna hear anything and the least you can do now is saying you’re sorry.”

“S-sorry? For what?!”

“For spreading lies about him! You can’t say shit like that, he’s not here to defend himself!”

“But—”

“No, you listen! He was not a faggot, got it? Get it inside your fucking head: Eds was not a fag—!”

He doesn’t end the sentence. As soon as he tries to repeat the insult, Bill’s left hand raises and slaps him in the face so hard it makes him lose balance. So hard his fingers leave a red mark all over his cheek.

Bill wants to apologize. He’s mad, of course, but he didn’t mean to take it that far. He didn’t mean to do that. However, the expression of regret won’t come out. He can’t talk. He can’t move one single muscle. All he can do is stand there, staring at the prettified mess that is Richie at this moment, looking at him with wide eyes and his chest raising and falling agitatedly, as his feet make him go backwards, short and slow steps.

“Don’t call me that,” Bill’s voice murmurs, except that he didn’t order it to do that.

Richie watches, even more disconcerted than before, be it for the words themselves or for the fact he didn’t stutter once.

“W-what?” he asks, no trail of wrath in his tone.

Bill can see the bottom of his own frowned eyebrows as his chin raises in a gesture of challenge. His left fist is closed, but his right arm hangs against his body, not moving at all.

“I said don’t fucking call me that, Richie.”

Richie gulps, still touching the mark on the side of his face. His eyes look slightly wet.

“You know I…”

Silence.

C-come on, Eddie. You can d-do it. I know you can. I know how b-brave you are.

Bill’s lungs slowly fill up with air. Then his mouth exhales.

Richie is waiting.

“You know I love you.”

Tag list: @trippy-alexissss

I know there was more people who wanted to be tagged, but I lost the list with their urls so, if you want to be tagged, please let me know and I’m so sorry for these problems.

#tozenbrak #reddie #kaspbrough #bichie #bill denbrough #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #it (2017)#it (2019)#it (1990)#it (book)#it (movie)#the losers club #fanfic #my writing #filling the blanks

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cbwalive · 5 years

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CBWA SUMMER BASH 2019

MATCH EVENT: Summer Bash 2019 Pay-per-view Date: Saturday, August 31, 2019 Location: Bogota Stadium Capacity: 40,000

Tony Atlas & Tony Lott vs. Big Donnie & Too Cold Bogota

Big Donnie and Tony Atlas warmed things up, then Too Cold Bogota tagged in and called for Tony Lott. Tony Lott springboarded into the ring, stunning Too Cold Bogota. Tony Lott then pump-kicked Too Cold Bogota across the ring, stunning Too Cold Bogota again. Tony Lott busted out some more wrestling holds, stunning Too Cold Bogota, who decided to bail out of the ring. Big Donnie tagged in and cut off Tony Lott with a kick to the gut. Too Cold Bogota took advantage by working on Tony Lott in the heel corner.

The crowd decided to play along and try a rally clap for Tony Lott, who continued to take a beating in the heel corner. Big Donnie then kicked Tony Lott out of the ring, allowing Too Cold Bogota to kick him while he was down. Back in the ring, Tony Lott suddenly snapped off a kick to Too Cold Bogota. Tony Lott then crawled across the desert to tag in Tony Atlas, who cleaned house. Tony Atlas then nailed a big corner splash for a two count when Big Donnie broke up the pin.

Tony Atlas cleared the heels to the outside, then Tony Lott got a little over-zealous and asked to hit a big splash on the outside. Tony Lott wiped out the heels with a cross-body splash, then Tony Atlas dragged Big Donnie into the ring and went for a powerslam but cou;dn’t hold up the 500lbs monster. Big Donnie crashed down onto Atlas and got the pin.

WINNERS: Too Cold Bogota & Big Donnie

The match started with Gilbert and Beefcake trading control and poses. Beefcake eventually tried a pinfall with feet on the barbed wire but that didn’t work. Beefcake didn’t think it through and is now caught up in the barbed wire. Eddie starts delivering boots to the head. After a while, Hot Stuff and Beefcake traded quick pins, then Hot Stuff smashed Beefcake into the barb wire again.

Beefcake is bleeding everywhere. He ducks a closthesline and went for the sleeper but Hot Stuff blocked it.

Beefcake then trapped Hot Stuff in the barbed wired ropes, frustrating Eddie.

Eddie has a number of cuts on his arm. Eddie escaped and hit Beefcake with full force, bumping Beefcake face first into the barb wire. Eddie locks on a Boston Crab with Beefcake caught in the barb wire. Beefcake taps.

WINNER and still North American Champion, Hot Stuff Eddie Gilbert

Handsome Kid Curtis Kalupar vs Bogota Ox SPECIAL BOXING MATCH

12 ROUNDS

The referee calls for the bell as the two men feel each other out. Curtis Kalupar who boxed in the service throws a few jabs into the air.

Kalupar looking down admiring his own foot work looks up and BOOM!

He’s out. Bogota Ox nailed him with a wild right hand hook.

1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9 and 10.

WINNER: Bogota Ox scores a knock-out in the first round

Bogota Sheik vs The Colombian Dragon Daniel Bryan

Bogota Sheik and Bryan circled one another. Bogota Sheik and Bryan locked up. Bryan applied a waist lock, but Bogota Sheik gyrated his hips and overpowered Daniel. Bogota Sheik applied a waist lock of his own, but Bryan elbowed free. He tried to shoulder tackle Bogota Sheik multiple times, but Bogota Sheik wouldn’t budge. He caught Bryan and applied an abdominal stretch.

Bogota Sheik shot Bryan off the ropes and gave him a shoulder tackle. Bryan shot up, but Bogota Sheik hit him with a big clothesline. Bryan rolled to the outside.

Bogota Sheik stalked Bryan on the outside. Bryan got back in the ring and begged off Bogota Sheik. Bogota Sheik charged him, but Bryan slipped outside again and taunted the crowd. Bryan returned to the ring slowly, and he and Bogota Sheik engaged in a brief test of strength but Bryan gave him a cheap shot into the corner. Bryan mounted Bogota Sheik for several punches then hit a number of corner kicks. He tried to whip Bogota Sheik, but Bogota Sheik used his size to block Bryan’s attempt. He shot Bryan to the corner and delivered punches of his own.

Out of the corner, Bryan gave Bogota Sheik a chop block to take him down. Bryan applied a single leg Boston Crab. Bogota Sheik escaped, but Bryan continued his onslaught. He hung up Bogota Sheik’s leg in the corner. Bryan kicked away at Bogota Sheik’s bad knee. The announcers pointed out that Bryan was working the knee that Bogota Sheik had surgically repaired.

Bogota Sheik managed to fight back and hit a pair of overhead belly to belly suplexes. He tried for a third, but Bryan kicked at Bogota Sheik’s knee. He got Bogota Sheik down to his knees and began the “yes” kicks. Bogota Sheik ducked the final, and hit a belly to belly suplex, followed by a running splash for a near fall.

Bogota Sheik tried to use his body as a battering ram, but Bryan stepped out of the way and sent Bogota Sheik crashing through the ropes onto the mat below. Bryan went for a running dive, but Bogota Sheik caught him with an elbow. As the referee checked on Bryan, Sheik slid back into the ring and started to spit on fans at ringside. Bryan slipped back into the ring and geared up. He hit the running knee on Bogota Sheik for the victory.

WINNER: Daniel Bryan in 8:00

The Eye of Gibson (W/Lupe) vs. Jeff Hart

Jeff Hart dominated early on, frustrating The Eye of Gibson, who sold being out-matched despite his size advantage. The Eye of Gibson kept trying to get some room to breathe and eventually landed a knee to the gut to slow down Jeff Hart. Jeff Hart came back with a textbook dropkick, but The Eye of Gibson caught Jeff Hart in the corner and lifted him clear over the top rope. Jeff Hart crashed down into the ring steps, smashing the steps with his hands on the way down to provide startling audio.

Jeff Hart sold on the floor for a while The Eye of Gibson yelled down at Jeff Hart that he should have stayed in the dungeon, then should have stayed home in Calgary. Jeff Hart returned to the ring and The Eye of Gibson was greeted by a round of unsavory chants. The Eye of Gibson laughed and pointed down at Jeff Hart to indicate he’s dominating the match. So, Jeff Hart fired back with a smack to the face and small package for a two count.

The Eye of Gibson came back with a corner attack and stomps to keep Jeff Hart on the mat as the crowd taunted The Eye of Gibson. The crowd then broke into a “Jeff Hart … there it is” chant to rally behind Jeff Hart and continue taunting The Eye of Gibson. The Eye of Gibson decided he wanted to end the match, but Jeff Hart spun out into a kick to the head and standing moonsault for a close two count.

Reset at 11:00. Jeff Hart wanted a running powerbomb out of the corner, but The Eye of Gibson blocked. The Eye of Gibson then hoisted Jeff Hart into the air for a powerslam, causing the crowd to freak out. The Eye of Gibson covered, and it was good for the win.

WINNER: The Eye of Gibson at 11:41

South American Championship Match Yakuzza vs Macho Man

Macho Man dominated early on. Macho went for a big press slam, but Yakuzza countered in mid-air with a DDT. He followed with a running splash to the mid-section for another nearfall.

Macho Man suddenly responded with a suplex into the turnbuckles for a two count.

Macho Man tried to follow by going up top for the elbow, but Yakuzza chucked him into the air and nailed a thrust kick. Macho decided to bail from the ring and try to leave, but Yakuzza tracked him down. Yakuzza rolled Macho back into the ring and went for the Yakuzza Kick, but Macho blocked. Yakuzza kicked him in the face again, then nailed The Yakuzza Kick a second time.

Macho Man closed his eyes and sold a lack of life. The ref had to call for the bell, giving Yakuzza the win.

WINNER and Still CBWA South American Champion: Yakuzza

CBWA Intercontinental Championship Match

Ether Bunny vs. The Miz (w/ Jimmy Hart)

Ether Bunny went for a Two Legged Hop Kick in the opening seconds, but Miz avoided. Jimmy Hart continued to be a distraction ringside. Miz and Ether Bunny trade shots before spilling to the outside. Miz and Jimmy Hart used their numbers advantage to cut off Ether Bunny on the outside.

Back in the ring, Miz took control as Pork Chop Cash on announcing wondered what Jimmy Hart does while Miz in his bed with his wife. Moving on, Ether Bunny tried to come back with the Twoo Legged Hop Kick, but Miz easily avoided, then dropped Ether Bunny with a neckbreaker for a two count. “That was three!” Jimmy Hart shouted toward the ref, breaking the silence in the arena. Miz then slapped Ether Bunny around than Miz planted Ether Bunny with a DDT for a two count.

After the vocal males chanted “Miz is awesome,” Ether Bunny cut off Miz with a powerslam. He then tried to engage the casual audience setting up for the Two Legged Hop Kick, but Jimmy Hart hopped up on the ring apron screaming, “Cut, cut, cut!” Ether Bunny scared him off, but Miz grappled Ether Bunny and delivered the Skullcrushing Finale for a close two count. Miz wanted a top-rope move, but Ether Bunny intercepted with a mid-air Two Legged Hop Kick, he covered but Jimmy Hart pulled Miz off of the Ether Bunny. Ether Bunny is wild and chases Jimmy to the outside. On the outside, Ether Bunny chased Jimmy Hart around but Miz intercepted and superkicked Ether bunny onto the announce table.

The ref was at an eight count, Miz grabbed the apron at nine, he fell down, and the ref hit 10 before Miz made it back into the ring. The bell sounded for a double count-out.

WINNER: Double count-out at 11:50

Bogota Hogan vs Big Bubba Bogota

Big Bubba controlled the match early on, then took a risk going to the top rope, allowing Bogota Hogan to crotch him. Big Bubba slumped down to the mat, so Bogota Hogan smashed him with a cannonball splash. Bogota Hogan followed up with sustained offense wearing down Big Bubba. “Chinlock City!” Bogota Hogan declared on the mat. Meanwhile, Mayor Stan Lane was shown watching the match on a backstage monitor.

Double knockdown, then Big Bubba got up and teased a Bubba Slam, but Bogota Hogan blocked. Big slugfest, then Bogota Hogan grappled Big Bubba for a lift-up gutbuster. Bogota Hogan followed with a majestic big-man moonsault, but Big Bubba moved and Bogota Hogan ate the mat. Big Bubba then hit a flying elbow for a close two count.

After a reset, Big Bubba and Bogota Hogan battled on the top turnbuckle. Neither man could get the advantage, then Bogota Hogan eventually lifted Big Bubba into the air for a big Colombian Suplex that wowed the crowd. Big Bubba rolled out of the ring, where Bogota Hogan smashed Big Bubba into the announce table, roughing him up.

Back in the ring, Bogota Hogan wanted powerslam, but Big Bubba avoided. A second try, but Big Bubba turned it into a head scissors. Bubba then went for the Bubba Slam but Hogan dropped to his knees and head bunted Big Bubba in the crotch. Bubba hit the mat hard, clutching his penis and testicles. Hogan dropped the big Leg Drop for a 3 count.

The crowd exploded! Hogan grabbed the microphone and challenged Mayor Fake Stan Lane to a match. Lane was seen getting into his limousine and riding away.

WINNER: Bogota Hogan at 11:20

CBWA World Championship Match Steve Ryder (w/Jimmy Hart) vs PN NEWS JR. (w/ Bogota Slick)

Ryder eyes PN News Jr from his corner and PN News Jr jaws at Ryder from his.

Ryder charges and they trade strikes. Ryder gets the better of that. PN News Jr to the outside. PN News Jr gets angry and grabs a chair from the timekeeper’s area. Ryder just hangs out as PN News Jr re-enters, ducks under the chair shot, kicks the chair out of PN News Jr’s hand.

PN News Jr runs to the outside. Ryder stares at him, sets the chair up, and sits on it to stare at PN News Jr. PN News Jr re-enters, Ryder folds the chair then throws it out of the ring, puts PN News Jr outside, then attacks him. PN News Jr has a knee to slow Ryder down, then grabs chairs from under the ring and puts them in the ring. Then PN News Jr gets a trash can into the ring and kicks Ryder’s head to keep him down. Ryder attacks PN News Jr, then PN News Jr slams Ryder’s head into a barricade. PN News Jr looks around as the ref checks on Ryder. PN News Jr gets a kendo stick. Ryder gets one of his own. They go into the ring.

Ryder looks at his stick and throws it away and invites PN News Jr to hit him. Ryder avoids the stick and rocks PN News Jr with strikes, Ryder with a moonsault, and PN News Jr hits Ryder with a stick strike mid-moonsault.

Ryder is flopping all over the ring as PN News Jr recovers instead of covering. PN News Jr with a strike to the fallen Ryder, then puts the stick in Ryder’s mouth and yanks. Ryder gets to his feet, PN News Jr with a Samoan Drop, cover for two.

PN News Jr hits and stomps Ryder on the mat. The crowd demands tables. PN News Jr, the fan-loving babyface, gets a table out. PN News Jr starts to set the table up outside of the ring while Ryder recovers. PN News Jr goes back in the ring, there’s some blood on PN News Jr’s thigh I don’t know where it came from.

PN News Jr looks for a superplex on Ryder outside the ring onto the table, but Ryder blocks. Ryder throws PN News Jr off the turnbuckle and onto a trashcan. Running high knee gets Ryder two. Ryder is selling his back. Ryder goes under the ring for a table of his own. Ryder sets it up next to the other table for some reason.

Ryder is about to re-enter the ring, PN News Jr is still down, so Ryder looks under the ring for a ladder. As he tries to put it into the ring, PN News Jr hits the ladder with a low drop kick. PN News Jr has blood on his hand, I think that is where he is bleeding from. PN News Jr rolls Ryder into the ring. The ladder is in the corner, Ryder blocks a suplex onto the ladder, then reverses it, PN News Jr blocks the suplex, dropkick to stun Ryder. PN News Jr drops to his knees and is bleeding. The ref has gloves on and is checking on PN News Jr.

Ryder is struggling to walk, but he grabs a chair and sets it up in from of PN News Jr. He puts PN News Jr’s face on the chair, but PN News Jr recovers, folds the chair up and hits Ryder in the middle with the chair.

PN News Jr finally rolls Ryder into the ring, covers for two. PN News Jr sets up a pair of chairs in the middle of the ring. Ryder recovers, fireman’s carry, Attitude Adjustment into the chairs, with PN News Jr’s upper back hitting the chair backs. That looked insanely dangerous.

PN News Jr is just screaming and flopping like a drowning fish. PN News Jr grabs a chair to try getting up, Ryder dropkicks the chair, cover, The Arabian Giant and Bogota Buff come out to attack Ryder.

The Giant and Buff just drag Ryder around the ring in front of the announcer’s booth, then tear it apart. The put Ryder on the table and from the top rope, PN News Jr dives and lands on top of Ryder, crashing through the announcers table. OMG!

Ryder is still unmoving outside. PN News Jr wants to suplex Ryder onto the German announcers booth, Ryder tries to fight it off but the Arabian Gaint powerslams him on top of the table. Bogota Buff goes up top and jumps off the top rope but Ryder moves and Buff crashes through it.

Ryder slides off and nails the Arabian Giant with a headbutt. Ryder kicks PN News in the guy and rolls him back into the ring.

“Pileryder!” chant from the crowd. Dropkick stops Ryder in his tracks. PN News Jr chooses to get a chair instead of covering. Ryder is starting to get up. PN News Jr raising the chair and eats a head butt into a Pile Ryder.

Winner: Steve Ryder in 22:05.

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