ALI MUNSON ~ Fangirl & Writer {20+} She/Her

“M’kay…”

“I think… We should really talk about what we talked about the other night in your bedroom… I'm here to tell you that you're my daughter, and I'm going to support you in every decision you make. While I don't want details, of course I care about who you spend time with. I know you don't want to hear that I care and that you'd rather believe that I should ignore it, but it's not.”

He paused to take another sip.

“I feel like I have to start to justify every decision I’m taking right now…”

"Not with me. I don't want justification for your decisions. I just want to assure you that if at any time you feel in danger, if you feel that he's not making you feel good, if you feel that he's not taking care of you, you'll come to me."

Silence.

"Just promise me you'll always keep me in mind."

"I promise, Dad." You both smiled. "Are you staying for another round?"

"Honestly, I was hoping to find you with company and kill two birds with one stone." He scoffed.

"I'm sorry... He’s usually around... and I wasn't expecting you either."

Outside the bar, Marc was still smoking when he saw Eddie walking towards the door.

“Isn’t it early for that?” Eddie shouted from afar. Marc laughed when he saw him. “Have you lost what little sanity you had left?”

 "No, but at least I'll keep my testicles for one more night."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Marc turned his head toward the inside of the bar.

"We have a glorious visit from the general. Her dad is in there."

"You're kidding me." Marc shook his head. "Now what?"

"How about you go in and introduce yourself to Daddy? Hi, Daddy! I'm the one who keeps your daughter stressed out every week!"

"Asshole," Ed replied, took a cigarette, and lit it.

"To me, that sounds like a great conversation."

"This is just what I needed to top off this week." Eddie rubbed his face in frustration.

"I don't think it's a bad idea to go in and introduce yourself." Marc shrugged.

"You just want to see me with a fork in my throat or a broken bottle over my head."

"I thought that was the plan." Eddie retraced his steps and walked toward his car. "Where are you going, jerk?"

"I don't plan on staying. I don't know how long her father will be here, and meeting the family isn't on my to-do list."

"Coward," Marc shouted.

"Look at me. Would you like me to come over with your daughter and tell you that I'm her little boyfriend?"

Marc shrugged, and Eddie nodded.

“That’s my whole point.”

After that, Eddie became less and less ashamed—starting to do drugs in front of you, doing them in the bathroom, to the point that your friends had come to feel like it was nothing. And this was the worst—he made it feel and seem so normal that your curiosity grew bigger. Every time he did it, you insisted on trying them, but Eddie never really paid attention to you. He never told you, but he hated to think that he would be the reason you got hooked on them.

One night, everyone had left, and you were cleaning the last things on the bar. Eddie was waiting for you in a corner. As you finished everything, a practice he had adopted since one afternoon when Nilda had to kick out a buzzkill and almost got into a fight with Marc, Eddie had just entered the bar when he saw it. He literally kicked him out, and after that, he spent all your late-night shifts with you, just in case someone wanted to make a scene again.

He took out a small sealed bag and poured the white powder in the bar in front of him.

You looked at him doe-eyed, “So?”

He sighed and put down the bag. “Sweetheart, what do you hope to get from this?”

“The experience! I want to go to college knowing how it feels to do them…”

“At the college you’re going, this kind of drug is not the one they use.”

You rolled your eyes. “Now you’re an expert on drugs?”

“No. I’m an expert in good girls pretending to be bad girls.”

“Well, if you’re gonna do them at my work, I at least should have a reward.” You said without even looking up at him.

Eddie grew desperate with the way you insisted. You had been pushing your luck for weeks. He slid the powder, creating a line in front of him with a credit card.

“Come here before I regret it.” You giggled and squirmed as you walked to his front. He wrapped a bill and looked at you. “You’re gonna take this and inhale hard—as hard as you can—no hesitation. It’s gonna hurt like hell, like you just inhaled broken glass.”

He instructed as you put your hair in a bun.

“The first time I took it, I felt like my whole body was turned on and off in a second—but even with that, I can’t tell you how it’s gonna be for you.”

“What if I take it wrong?”

“I’ll take you to my place for you to feel better.”

You finally leaned on the bar and took the deepest breath you could. You sought Eddie’s gaze as he just had his eyes fixed on you—in his eyes, pure regret could be seen; you could see how little he was enjoying this. He was positive about something; if it weren’t because of him, you wouldn’t even be exposed to this.

Your mind started spinning as soon as the powder hit your lungs—Eddie handed you his beer, and you took a huge swig. Your heart ached; you could feel electric shocks traveling through your blood veins, and your mind kept racing through a million thoughts.

“Now what?” You mumbled, and he chuckled. Pulling you by your wrist, he started pecking on your neck.

“That’s the trick, sweetheart.” He rosed his finger on your arm, which sent shivers down your spine. “You’re gonna feel like you’re invincible.”

He murmured in your ear and pulled you by your ass, pressing your core to him.

“Stop…” You whispered with a soft moan leaving your lips.

Your head was spinning, pulse concentrating on your core as you felt cold running down your veins.

“Oh, this is just the beginning, sweetheart.” He began to kiss your neck, short pecks but intense, and as his pace grew relentless, he finally stood up from the stool and lifted you, making you straddle him.

He started walking towards the bathroom; you were lost on his lips as you finally felt the cold marble of the sink. He unzipped his jeans and, before doing anything else, he wrapped himself in a rubber. Your mind was dizzy, but you helped him to get rid of your jeans and your underwear. He buckled his hips to slam himself into you. Your nails dug into his back, as you panted with every roll of his hips.

Every thrust was painfully delicious. You had never felt like this before, sparkles around your veins, a fervor running around your spine. He could notice how blissed out you were at the moment.

“Eddie…” You cried out, and he hushed you.

“You can take it, sweetheart.”

Frantically, he drove his last movements to make you convulse; every clench in your core made him squirm slightly. His hands gripped your waist, tumbling over you.

“We should really go,” He mumbled in you shoulder.

“I’m not sure I can stand up.”

He scoffed, “That’s the energy crash, babe. It comes after the euphoria passes. If it were something different, I’d give you a second sniff, but I won’t.”

He finally slid off you, and you whined at the withdrawal.

“But… you haven’t—” Breathlessly, you answered.

“I don’t need it.” He tried to move, but you clung to him tight.

“I want you to finish.”

He rolled his eyes and lined himself to your cunt, kissing your slit with his tip. He thrusted again, your body bouncing with each move as he grumbled under his breath. Hair drenched in sweat, his chest heaving as your legs ached from the position.

He finally spurted in the condom as he panted, resting his head on your shoulder.

“I’ll never get tired of seeing you just like this.”

“Sweaty, tired, breathless?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Yes, sir.”

A small chuckle left his lips, and he finally took himself out of you. “Let’s go, beauty. I need to get you home.”

You weren’t sure how you felt after that. You really wanted to label it somehow, but you weren’t sure if this kind of rush was coming from the ‘under-the-influence sex’ or from the drug on its own.

You just knew you had enjoyed every moment. The problem? You were almost sure Eddie would never give you the chance to try it once again.

When you woke up the next day, you could only feel the soreness in your center and the head about to explode. Your eyes were not even able to focus; you felt them heavy, and a crippling anxiety crawled up your chest; your head felt like you could rip it off—and the worst part of all that was that the rush you could remember was something better than anything else you had ever felt.

On the other side of town, Eddie replayed every moment he had gone through—the way he had succumbed to your pleas, how your expression gnarled at the first sniff. The way your body squirmed in pure euphoria.

And he knew well that face he had seen on you. He had seen it plenty of times with girls and friends; this was for sure not the last time you would want to try it.

He called Astor asking for some more, and before the sun went down, he was already at the trap house, a bunch of people surrounding the place.

“Gotta have visits?” Astor asked as he tossed him the sealed bags.

Eddie furrowed. “Not that I’m aware of. Why? Did Gareth or Kalen call you?”

“Those bastards don’t text me. They just show up and expect to be treated as royalty.” Both scoffed. “Just asking because you doubled down on what you usually ask for.”

“Oh.” Eddie nodded, “Let’s just say we’ve got a new friend around.”

“Is that little princess you’ve been carrying around, right?” Eddie shrugged. “Unfortunately for ya’ this is hellhole, and I get to know every step y’all take. I got the news about a girl getting in trouble at a bar, but you were nice enough to let me know with enough time to stop those rumours.”

Eddie was already taking a second stash of money just to throw it at him.

“Just be careful, man. She’s not like us.”

“She was just curious, but I saw it in her eyes. I just know this is not gonna be a one-night thing and I don’t want to be bothered or know she’s finding her own shit when she doesn’t even know where to hook it.”

Later that night, Eddie arrived at the bar. Nilda was cleaning the bar; a fed-up look was obvious on her face as soon as Eddie came through the doors.

He asked for your name as he sat at the stool.

“Late,” Nilda said without even looking at him.

“Can I get a beer?” She nodded and turned to serve him. Her eyes locked with his in a cold stare.

“Don’t fukin’ leave drugs on my bar again, you moron.” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“C’mon. You’ve seen me doing it countless times, what’s the surprise?”

“That you usually have the decency to clean up after yourself.”

He shrugged. He had been busy with other things and had forgotten to clean up the mess you had left behind.

"I'll be more careful," he said with a serious expression. "She was in a hurry, and I wasn't as careful as I usually am."

"Eddie, I don't want you to involve her in this. I know it wasn't you who left that there."

"I don't know what you're talking about." He tried to appear unconcerned.

"In the months you've been coming to the bar, I know you do it in the bathroom. I've never once seen a single trace of anything, and it turns out that the day I leave you two alone in the bar, you leave half a line unfinished on the bar?" She paused. "And a used condom in the bathroom. Fuck off."

"Shit." He paused, thinking about how uncomfortable it must have been for Nilda. "Promise me you won't tell her you found it. We have enough problems without adding a used condom to the mix."

"I don't want her involved in that shit, are we clear?”

But before he could say anything else, you entered the bar like a bat out of hell, planted a kiss on Eddie’s lips, and greeted Nilda with the naturalness of someone unaware of the drama behind the silence.

"I thought you weren't coming."

"I'm sorry... I overslept, I don't even know what happened," you lied. All three knew you were lying.

Later in the week, Eddie was driving home with you as a passenger.

“Why haven’t we been pleased with Morgana’s presence?”

“Oh… I think she’s still very weirded out about the whole fling with Marc, and she hasn’t been able to face him.” You shrugged.

“So… a one-night stand ruined her nights at the bar?” You pursed your lips in a smile and nodded. “Weird.”

You furrowed; a weird thought crossed your mind.

“Eddie.” You mumbled before he pulled up at his garage. He helped you out of the car and walked with you to his house. “Are you… are you sleeping with someone else?”

Eddie stopped on his tracks to look at you. “The fuck? Where does this come from? Is this seriously goin’ to be the topic for the night?”

“Well, it’s just a damn question. You don’t have to be this pressed for a question.”

“The answer’s not. I’m not fucking anyone else. If I had the stupid idea of sleeping with someone else, you’d know it immediately. This hellhole keeps no secrets.” He went straight to the fridge and took out two beers. “But if you need excuses to fight, I’d come and ask the same question. Should I be worried about anyone else being around you?”

“For fuck’ sakes. Of course not. I would never think of that.”

“Why are you now getting upset? You’re the one who brought it up.”

“So, you wouldn’t mind if I fooled around?”

“Oh, honey. I know you wouldn’t do that. You like me too much for that.”

“Eddie, don’t tempt me.”

“I’m not, sweetheart; I’m just making a point. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours, but you’re not mine?”

He grunted and stroked his face. “If I were sleeping with someone else, I wouldn’t have the guts to bring you to my house even.”

Yo shrugged and let yourself stumble onto the couch.

“Are you in the mood to fight, right?”

“I’m so sorry… I’m just… anxious, I guess.”

“Welcome to the withdrawal, honey.” You looked at him worriedly. “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into, sweetheart.” The cynicism was evident.

He took out one of the bags and cut the line in front of you; his eyes were fixed solely on the powder in front of him. You were looking at him with hungry eyes.

"You know what to do." You leaned forward and inhaled, immediately feeling the adrenaline rush through your veins. He was holding your hair in a ponytail as he looked at you. "Good girl."

"Thank you," you said with your back against the armchair, your head thrown back, and a false sense of peace surrounding your body.

"Damn it, don't thank me for this shit." He paused. "It won't do you any good."

"You do."

Eddie stood up and leaned over you, almost covering all the air coming in, staring at you, trying to memorize every gesture.

"I'm a lost cause, honey. You're a rich girl who's experiencing this shit before going off to fulfill her dreams."

"You're part of my dreams now." He shook his head.

"Nothing good has ever come from a bag full of cocaine and an alcoholic who's going on tour in a couple of months."

You both realized that the collision of your worlds was a mere coincidence that would end in a few months. You would have to prepare for college, and he would go on tour with his band.

  It started as something casual, a couple of times a week. Ed saw you enjoying yourself, dancing with Nilda from time to time. Somehow, you had managed to convince Morgana to return to the bar and put aside the awkwardness they had created that night. He even noticed how you began to flirt with men in the bar just for fun. He found it amusing until someone waited for her at the end of your shift.

That's when he had to intervene. It had only happened a couple of times, and it was always men who gave up when they saw you leave in Eddie’s arms. The confidence that the white snow gave you pushed you to test his limits, to flirt with strangers as if the risk were part of the game.

Perhaps it was your way of getting Eddie's attention, of testing the limits of his patience, or maybe you were simply trying to prove that you could still control something amid the intensity he represented. Every glance from strangers at the bar gave her an extra rush of adrenaline; it was dangerous, but also exciting.

However, amid the frenzy of the drugs, the excitement of seeing other men interested in you, you failed to take into account that it was Eddie who would be in danger if any of them didn't understand with a simple glance from him, which took its toll that night; a guy was waiting for you outside the bar, Marc was closing up while you and Nilda talked—Ed was chatting with Marc about some nonsense.

At one point, you noticed a car in front of the bar that looked very similar to the one your father drove— but before you could even warn Eddie about what you had seen, trying not to alert him more than necessary, you heard a voice in the distance.

"Are you free tonight?" One of the guys you had been flirting with the previous nights appeared.

"Oh, sorry, no. I'm not interested," You said without even looking at him. Ed and Marc watched from a distance, trying to give you some space.

"Come on, sweetheart. We weren't flirting that night so you could play hard to get." He got close enough to touch your waist.

Eddie moved in to push him away; Marc followed behind him, still unsure of his role in this altercation.

"She said no." The boy stood next to Eddie, looking him in the eye; Marc, who was a few inches taller than both of them, stood behind him like a guard dog.

"And you... are? I saw her very calmly flirting, for you two to even have a title."

"She said no, and that's the only answer you need."

"I don't think she has much decency if she has her boyfriend by her side and flirts with every customer in front of her."

Eddie smiled and, before even answering, punched him in the nose, making it clear that this was not the night he would put up with that. The guy hit him back, but Eddie was already getting ready and ended up on top of his opponent, punching him in the face nonstop. You tried to get closer to separate them, but accidentally you took a hit and fell to the ground. Nilda ran to your aid while Marc tried to break them up.

A loud shout came from across the street. Your father got out of his car to rescue you and, seeing Eddie in that scene, ran to pull him away, noticing that the man was no longer moving. "Eddie, for God's sake! You're going to kill him, is that what you want?"

Eddie was breathing heavily, as if that weren't enough. When he came out of his violent trance, he noticed that the person holding him by the arms and practically putting him in a headlock was your father.

"If I have to defend her, that's what I'll do." He continued to hold him with all his strength. He turned to look at the other boys.

"Get her into the bar, lock Eddie up, I'll call an ambulance." Everyone nodded. "I'm going to let you go; if you try anything, you'll have me to deal with now."

"Declan. You don't understand."

"I understand perfectly, but you must also understand that she is my daughter, a daughter who has never been involved in this kind of situation." He growled while Eddie tried to set himself free from his grip.

You were still disoriented on the floor, watching as your father subdued Eddie in his arms. Marc took Eddie by the shoulders and put him in the bar, while Nilda helped you inside.

Marc forced Eddie into the bathroom to calm down. He was still breathing heavily, blood on his fists and shirt, even his own blood dripping from his nose. On the other side of the bar, Nilda wiped your nose. You still didn't fully understand what had happened. Nilda noticed how your skin was beginning to swell and knew perfectly well that your eye would be black and blue in a couple of days.

The silence that reigned in the bar prevented anyone from even breathing heavily. Each of you carried a guilt, a fear, a regret that could not be put into words.

 A couple of minutes later, an ambulance arrived, and shortly after, Declan entered the bar, his shirt and hands covered in blood. Seeing your father in that state made you feel completely guilty. Eddie was locked in the bathroom like a feverish animal.

Marc and Ed came out of the bathroom a few minutes later. Ed approached them apologetically, and Declan cleared his throat when he saw him.

"Can we have a minute?" Everyone nodded and disappeared from the bar towards the kitchen.

"Eddie." Declan sat down on the stool.

"I swear I never meant to hit her. I don’t even know what happened. I don't know why the hell she got involved." Ed spoke quickly, interrupting.

"Eddie, I know perfectly well that you never meant to hit her." There was a pause that seemed to last forever. "But you should never have started such a violent act in front of her, even if it wasn't directed at her."

Eddie noticed his clenched, tense fists resting on his legs, his sleeves rolled up on that button-down shirt completely stained with blood, maybe his blood, maybe the blood of the other poor devil who had taken the ambulance.

"Declan." He tried to interrupt.

"There's no excuse. I understand perfectly well that that man was being rude to her, but that girl has never been exposed to a violent scene before. She's my daughter, and I never want to see her in a situation like that again. If you want to be in her life, you become part of hers, not her part of yours."

Declan didn't raise his voice, but his tone alone was enough to make it clear to Eddie that his daughter's safety was more important than anything else.

Eddie clenched his jaw. He had a lot to say, but he knew perfectly well that it wasn't worth burning a bridge that would never be crossed.

"I don't care what kind of life you lead; I care about the life my daughter leads, and she didn't have this before you, and she won't have it just because she's with you. Are we clear?"

"We're clear."

After some minutes, Eddie came to take you from the kitchen. Declan was drinking from a glass as he tried to ease up his emotions.

“You’re not going home like that.” He announced, looking at you. “I don’t know what kind of lie you’re gonna tell your mother, but you’re not coming home like that.”

“But…” You interrupted, and he shook his head.

“You’re gonna cancel that little trip you had planned for this weekend with Morgana, and you’re gonna book a hotel, stay there until you heal.”

Eddie looked at you immediately, and you just pinched your eyes closed. You had never mentioned the trip before because you were planning on opting out before it happened.

“Yes, Dad.”

You looked down.

“I'm gonna take your mom out tomorrow; you better take out your clothes from the house before we arrive. I don’t want a slight chance of her seeing you like this.”

A second nod.

“And don’t think for a second that I’m happy with this thing going on. But I'd rather hear her complaining about you leaving without saying good bye that her seeing you like this.”

You knew he was right. You knew this whole situation would make her take you out of the city without even looking back.

Before everything went even worse, everyone left the bar. You were curled up on the passenger seat; you could see how Eddie kept ticking his jaw. His hand rested on your thigh as he drove back home.

When you arrived at his house, just a second after shutting the door, he pressed you against the nearest wall; his breathing was relentless. He was towering over you, his chest heaving.

“If I have to beat up another fuckin’ bastard because you flirted a bit too much, I won’t be showing any mercy, are we clear?” He cupped your cheeks. “That jerk should be grateful your father showed up.”

He leaned and kissed you, and you melted into the moment.

You didn’t really want to admit it, but you loved seeing Eddie showing how possessive he could be at times. He would never ask you for something more serious, but he was not up to leaving you to fool around with different men.

“I’m sorry, Eddie.” You pleaded in his mouth.

“Just don’t make me pick a fight again with a man. I don’t need that shit right now—and don’t make me talk to your father ever again; that’s not for me.”

"I didn't plan for that to happen," You said with a hint of embarrassment.

"The beating or your father?"

"Both. But mainly my dad. I had no interest in you two meeting." You mumbled and tilted your head into his chest.

"Well, it happened, and I have no interest in it happening again."

"I understand."

"I also have no interest in being with anyone else, and I certainly have no interest in seeing you with another jerk. Stop tempting fate and testing my limits," he said as he pressed his lips to your ear.

“Promise.”

"Good girl. Now go get some rest; you have a busy day tomorrow." You nodded, kissed him, and went upstairs to his room.

In the morning, you woke up feeling his hands traveling from your back to your breasts.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He mumbled on your ear; you turned around to face him, and his face changed suddenly. “Fuck, you have no Idea how much I hate seeing your face like this.”

You rolled your eyes. “It happened. We can’t do anything but wait for it to heal.”

You noticed a small bag on his nightstand and smiled at him.

He said your name in a plea. “Are you serious?”

“Well, don’t you think I deserve a treat after the night I had?”

He sighed and nodded.

He cut the line on the nightstand and held your hair for you to sniff. He was stroking your back as you lost yourself in the feeling once again. You then crawled up to him, straddling his waist.

You leaned on his body and pecked his neck. He couldn’t even think of a better feeling than having your soft lips all over him.

Carefully, he found a rubber on the same nightstand and pulled down his pants just to wrap himself up. He slid aside your underwear and carefully slammed his cock into you. He grunted at the feeling and gripped your waist.

“This is all I can think of every time I flirt with them.” You mumbled on his chest, and he chuckled.

“Is that so?” You nodded. “Well, you gotta stop it.” He pounded from below, yanking you by your hair, making you look at him.

You cried out at the feeling, and he scoffed. “You’re mine; you don’t need to prove shit. Stop tempting your faith.”

“And you’re mine?” You whined as he bucked his hips.

He sighed, “I’m fucking you in my childhood home, you have your things in my house, you have me at your feet, you have me in the palm of your hand. I'm more yours than I am mine right now.”

As you were trying to come undone on his cock, his phone rang. He took it as he was still thrusting slowly into you.

‘Asshole. We are on our way. Better have good shit there.’ —Kalen.

“Fucking assholes.” He mumbled, throwing his phone to the side and tucked you into his chest. Heat crawled up your spine as he rolled his hips; your orgasm finally rocketed, and you fell upon him.

"Who was that?"

"Some friends are coming." He mumbled, turning around and pinning you to the mattress.

"What?" You leaned on your elbows.

"It's fine... They are just..."

A strong knock on the door took you out of the conversation.

"Here... They are here..." He sighed, fed up.

Next

But he had changed in the little things. He took better care of his hair now, even spending a little more money than anyone should on a simple shampoo and conditioner, and he rarely talked about sex anymore.

It wasn’t that he’d magically become a prude over the years. He’d simply learned that some things were better — and hotter — left between two people, and no longer felt the need to tell his best friend Steve about whatever fucking position or wild thing had happened in the alley behind the bar.

Except now.

He’d switched to whiskey — double shot, no ice — about five minutes ago after realising the two beers before it weren’t doing much.

Steve, who had begrudgingly left his twenty-five weeks pregnant wife at home to meet Eddie for what had apparently been an emergency drink on a random Wednesday, looked completely and utterly lost as he quietly sipped his Sex on the Beach.

“So,” the younger man started slowly, tilting his glass while absentmindedly playing with the little decorative umbrella. “You gonna tell me what’s been plaguing you?”

“I can’t, Steve.” Eddie groaned, abandoning his nearly empty glass to drag both hands down his face.

“You literally called me because, and I quote,” Steve took a sip before making quotation marks with his fingers. “‘Steve, dude, I need to tell you something or I’m gonna explode.’ So, spill.”

“I know, I know.” Eddie groaned again, tipping back the last of his whiskey and pretending it still burned on the way down. “But I can’t.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because…” Another sigh escaped him as he raised his empty glass towards the bartender for a refill. “It’s about sex, okay? Happy?”

Steve blinked at him and leaned back in his chair and silently raised his own glass for another drink.

“You’re acting like you didn’t fuck half the weird chicks behind the Hideout back in the day,” he said, absentmindedly fiddling with his straw. “I honestly don’t get why you’re acting like a fucking virgin. You’re pushing fifty, Edward.”

“I’m forty-two, Stephen,” Eddie deadpanned. “You— Forget it. You don’t understand.”

“Of course I don’t understand. You haven’t said shit fort the last hour.”

“It’s just…” Another defeated sigh escaped Eddie as his tattooed hand disappeared into the dark brown hair now threaded with silver that had, much to his horror, finally started to show.

He was being ridiculous, he knew that. Steve was right — he was acting like a fucking virgin despite being the furthest thing from it.

But this? He wasn’t sure about this.

Hell, he wasn’t entirely convinced he hadn’t imagined the whole fucking thing.

Eddie opened his mouth, only to snap it shut again when two fresh drinks were set down on the table between them.

When the bartender had disappeared just as quickly as she’d arrived, a string of choked words tumbled out of Eddie’s mouth, vowels mashed together with embarrassment as he immediately lifted his glass to his lips, desperate to give himself something — anything — to do besides look at Steve.

“What?” Steve frowned. “Dude, what the fuck. Talk slower, like a normal person.”

“I said…” Eddie repeated, keeping his eyes fixed somewhere on the wall behind Steve. “She asked if I’d ever done anal.”

And there it was — the utter, skin-prickling silence.

Steve simply stared at him.

“…That’s it?” he finally asked after a full minute. “This is what’s had you acting all weird?”

“Dude—”

“Jesus fucking Christ, man.” Steve let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head. “I’m finishing this drink and going home.”

“What? No.”

“Eddie, you’re being ridiculous.” He licked his lips before taking another sip. “What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that she’s half my age and she’s asking me something I’d never even stopped to think about.”

“So?”

“What do you mean, so?”

Steve sighed. The day was catching up with him, and Eddie’s bullshit wasn’t doing much to help. So he pulled his glass a little closer, took another sip through the straw, and counted to ten.

“I don’t see what the problem is.”

“You don’t—” Eddie sighed, exasperated, averting his gaze like he couldn’t quite believe what had just come out of his mouth. “Steve, we grew up in the eighties.”

“I know. I survived it.”

“Other than the occasional dirty joke at a party, we didn’t exactly sit around discussing sex.”

Steve frowned as he thought about it. “Now that you mention it…”

“Girls back then never asked if you’d tried this or that. They asked if you were a virgin, and if you both were, you just figured shit out… and then never spoke about it again.”

Steve leaned back in his chair, resting an elbow on the armrest as he sipped at his ridiculously bright cocktail, nodding along to Eddie’s rambling.

“Meanwhile, this girl looked me dead in the eye at nine in the morning and went, Have you ever tried anal? Like she was asking me if I’d ever seen Jurassic Park.”

A snort escaped Steve at the comparison.

“What did you reply?”

“…‘Can I have some coffee first?’”

Steve shook his head in disbelief, set his drink back down, and rested both hands behind his head like he was sprawled out on the couch watching a football game.

“Jesus, Eddie. You’re unbelievable.” He groaned.

“I’m going to kill myself,” Eddie muttered.

“Without trying anal first?”

“Steve.”

“The joke wrote itself, man.”

The younger man shrugged again, absentmindedly spinning his straw between his fingers.

“Listen, just go home and talk to her,” he said simply. “Tell her… I don’t know, that you weren’t expecting the question or something.”

“I can’t just… talk to her about it.”

“Eddie, my man, you’re acting like a fucking teenager.” Steve shook his head. “How long have you been seeing her?”

“Four months, give or take.”

“Four months,” he repeated slowly. “If this is supposed to go anywhere, you need to learn how to communicate. Apparently, that’s something you still haven’t figured out after forty-two years.”

“I hate you,” Eddie muttered over the rim of his glass.

“No.” Steve pointed at him with the end of his straw. “You hate that I’m right. There’s a difference.”

Much to his dismay, Steve had, in fact, been right.

Eddie had spent the entire fifteen-minute drive back to your place mentally turning over every word in the English dictionary, trying to figure out what he was supposed — what he wanted — to say once he got there.

By the time the red lacquered front door came into view, he still hadn’t figured it out.

The doorbell rang before he even really registered pressing it, and it only took a few seconds before he heard the faint sound of footsteps approaching.

And then there you were, standing right in front of him with messy hair and an oversized shirt you’d customised a few years earlier, back when you were still in high school.

“Hey—”

“I can’t stop thinking about your question, and it’s driving me absolutely insane.”

Your head tilted at the rapid stream of words that tumbled out of his mouth.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. Somehow, you’d found yourselves locked in a staring contest that neither of you remembered starting.

“Uh… hi to you too, Eds,” you chuckled after a moment, pulling the door open a little wider.

Eddie slipped past you without another word, too busy worrying at his bottom lip to even attempt an explanation.

His dark brown eyes darted around your little living room with a newfound sense of curiosity that was really nothing more than embarrassment hiding behind a mask.

Eddie’s gaze bounced from the far corner overflowing with potted plants to the extensive book collection you’d built over the years.

He was looking at anything that wasn’t you.

Which definitely hadn’t gone unnoticed.

The tip of your tongue pressed against the inside of your cheek as you quietly closed the front door behind you, your eyes fixed on the strange way he stood in the middle of your shoebox-sized apartment.

You leaned back against the door, absentmindedly drumming your fingers against the wood as you studied him.

“Eds—”

“I wasn’t expecting to hear something like that as nine in the morning,” he blurted. “Especially not how casually it slipped out of your mouth.”

“Look…” you sighed, scratching thoughtfully at your chin. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t my intention.”

“What?” Eddie’s attention finally snapped back to you. “I’m not uncomfortable.”

“Are you sure?” you asked quietly, raising an eyebrow. “Because you’re acting like a teenager who just found out he’s gonna be a dad at fifteen.”

Suddenly, the little painted squares you’d made at a paint-and-sip workshop with a friend became ten times more interesting than looking you in the eye.

A quiet sigh escaped you as you pushed yourself off the door and walked over to him.

Eddie’s cheeks had turned a soft shade of pink as he stubbornly refused to meet your gaze, even when your warm hand gently cupped his jaw and tried to guide his face back towards yours.

“We can just pretend none of it happened, if you want.”

He still wouldn’t look at you, nervously worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

Then, ever so slowly, dark brown eyes finally found yours beneath the warm amber light.

“I…” He swallowed. “I don’t want to… pretend.”

The warmth beneath your hand deepened as his blush spread from his cheeks down his neck, your palm following its path until it rested lightly against his chest.

Your expression softened at the shy tone of his confession.

Letting go of his chest, your fingers curled around his hand instead, gently tugging him towards the couch.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

Eddie slumped back against the cushions, full lashes fluttering with the incessant blinking of his eyes.

His hands found your hips, gently pulling you onto his lap.

“It’s just… You asked it so easily.” He let out a humourless laugh as his thumbs absentmindedly traced slow circles over the tops of your thighs. “In my time—”

“God, don’t say that.” You cringed. “That makes you sound old.”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie deadpanned, a rogue chuckle escaping him.

“You know what I mean.” You rolled your eyes playfully before settling back against his chest, following his gaze to the silent television across the room. “Sorry. Please continue.”

“It just caught me off guard how easy it is for you to talk about sex,” he admitted quietly. “When I was your age, girls would’ve rather set themselves on fire than ask their boyfriends something like that.”

“…That bad?”

“In Hawkins?” He snorted, looking down at you with one raised eyebrow as though the answer should’ve been obvious. “You have no idea.”

The silence that followed lingered for a few moments as the two of you watched the two brothers hop in their jealousy-inducing car.

Then you licked your lips and shifted, turning to properly straddle his lap.

“I like talking about sex.” You admitted and shrugged at his wide-eyed expression. “Not just because it’s dirty or exciting. I’d just rather ask what you like than guess.”

Eddie’s eyes drifted over your shoulder and back to the television. One of the two brothers had somehow turned into a vampire while the other acted weirder than usual.

“You know…” he started hesitantly, still watching the show play out in silence. “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me what I wanted before.”

You frowned at the quiet confession. “Really?”

“We just…” He shrugged, like it wasn’t something worth dwelling on. “Did things as we went.”

You reached up, brushing your thumb across his cheek and patiently waited for his eyes to find their way back to yours.

“Well,” you smiled softly, “I’m asking now.”

Eddie’s lips curled into a small, sheepish smile.

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course you can, Eds.” You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his temple. “I was… kinda hoping you would.”

Before he could make fun of your little confession, you pushed yourself off his lap and darted towards the kitchen.

“I bought your favourite,” you called, pushing the beaded curtain aside. “You want ice with it?”

“How did you–”

“I can smell it on your breath, Eds.” Your chuckle echoed through the tiny kitchen and into the living room.

“…Just one ice cube, please.”

Eddie had stayed over the previous night after one drink had turned into two more, while the two of you laughed about sweet nothings as the television continued playing that weird show about demon hunting brothers in the background.

As it turned out, Eddie didn’t have to think about it.

Not really, anyway.

While he’d been busy panicking at the bar with Steve and then again during the drive back to your place, his subconscious had already made the decision for him — he just hadn’t noticed it.

Not until his eyes slowly fluttered open to the stark white ceiling of your bedroom, his brain immediately replaying the… particularly raunchy dream he’d had during the night.

And then there was the, uh… wooden log between his legs.

His eyes instantly drifted to his left, finding you still sound asleep with your back turned to him. Your frame rose and fell with each steady breath, and Eddie felt like a fucking teenager all over again at the mere sight of you — and at the persistent morning problem he’d woken up with.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mumbled groggily, dragging both hands down his face. “Get it together, man.”

Forcing himself out of the warmth of your bed, Eddie did the only thing he could think of: ignore whatever the hell was happening beneath his boxers and make himself useful by quietly sneaking out to put breakfast together.

Not even ten minutes after he’d finally gotten the situation between his legs under control and managed to coax your second-hand stove into working, careful footsteps padded down the hallway and into the kitchen.

Eddie tried really, really hard not to tense when your arms slipped around his waist and your face nestled against the broad expanse of his tattooed back.

He failed the moment your warmth seeped through his skin and your sleepy voice reached his ears.

“Morning,” you mumbled.

“Morning,” he replied a little too quickly.

A content sigh escaped you as you leaned further into him, tightening your hold around his frame.

“You’re acting weird again.”

“I’m not—”

Eddie cut himself off with a tired sigh, turning the stove down before carefully prying himself loose just enough to face you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured, his hands drifting up and down your arms.

“It’s okay—”

“I dreamt about you,” he admitted quietly, his gaze immediately darting towards the small magnetic whiteboard hanging on your fridge.

“Oh?”

“Turns out I don’t need to think about it.”

“Oh.”

You straightened, suddenly feeling far more awake than you did half a second ago, your eyes searching his face as you silently waited for him to continue.

But he didn’t. Instead, he stood there pretending to be deeply invested in your weekly plans scribbled across the whiteboard.

With a small smile, you reached around him and turned the stove off completely.

“I’m trying really hard not to get…” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “…hard.”

“Eddie,” you laughed softly.

“I’m serious.” He groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re standing here in nothing but my shirt and a pair of lacy underwear, and I had the hottest dream of my life, and I—”

He immediately cut himself off, hesitantly lifting his eyes back to yours.

“Tell me about it,” you whispered, resting your eyes hands against his chest.

“About what?”

“The dream, silly.”

It was then and there that Eddie decided you’d come into his life for the sole purpose of turning it completely upside down.

Because there was no way in hell he was going to tell—

“We were watching that stupid show of yours,” he started before his brain had the chance to stop his mouth.

“Supernatural isn’t—”

“And then you stood up and suddenly you were completely fucking naked,” he continued, his hands slowly trailing down your spine until they settled against the soft curve of your ass. “And you started teasing me.”

Your throat suddenly went dry when you felt Eddie’s warm, calloused hands gently kneading the fat of your ass to emphasise his words as he continued recounting the dream.

Not that you were paying all that much attention anymore.

His voice had somehow faded into the background the moment his eyes had flickered down to your lips.

“—and then you were on all fours in the grass,” he continued, pulling you back to reality.

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, I don’t know either.” Eddie let out a soft chuckle. “But you looked absolutely beautiful, all spread out f’me beneath the warm sunlight.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you whispered, your stomach dropping in that all-too-familiar way whenever he talked to you like that.

“That’s what I said when I woke up,” he replied, a smug grin slowly creeping across his face.

The way Eddie had been acting over the last twenty-four hours was giving you whiplash.

One minute he was behaving like a schoolboy hopelessly fumbling through his first serious crush. The next, he’d slipped right back into his usual self, teasing you like it was his full-time job.

Your eyes widened in surprise when Eddie leaned in, meeting your lips in a soft, delicate press that felt like a total one-eighty from the conversation you just had. For a moment you froze, heart pounding wildly in your chest, but as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, something in you unfurled.

It’s chaste, almost innocent — just the brush of lips, a shared breath. Yet it sent a thrill down your spine. When he finally pulled away, you blinked dazedly up at him, still caught in the spell he’d just put you under.

You couldn’t do much but hold out your hand in a silent offer.

Eddie ushered you out of the kitchen, glass beads clinking together as the two of you hurried down the hall and made your way back to your bedroom.

The bed hit the backs of your knees as you tumbled onto it, pulling him down with you. Eddie’s tattooed hands roam feverishly, mapping the curves of your body beneath his shirt and drinking the low whimpers escaping your mouth as his fingertips brushed against the swell of your breasts.

You arched into him when his hands trailed back down to the hem of the shirt. He yanked it over your head and tossed it aside, immediately diving for the newly exposed skin. His lips trailed a path down your throat, teeth grazing your collarbone, while his tongue left a slick trail down to the tattoo you’d gotten four months ago at his studio.

“F-fuck, Eddie,” you breathed out, bucking your hips against his in a desperate attempt to ease the ache settling between your legs.

Eddie continued trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses towards your breasts, softly closing his lips around one of your nipples before he gave you a hard suck. His free hand roamed in search of the other one, rolling your hardened nipple between his fingertips while he continued sucking sloppily at the other, thick drops of saliva rolling down one side of your chest.

He pulled back slightly, searching your face after you’d given his scalp a particularly hard tug.

His fingers kept rolling and tugging at your hardened nipple while his eyes stayed fixed on your drunken face — eyebrows furrowed, mouth hanging open while you panted so prettily in his ears when he had barely even started.

“Have you… done this before?”

“N-no,” you confessed quietly.

“You sure you wanna do this, sweetheart?”

There was a certain vulnerability in his voice, but lying on top of you now, feeling the heat of your skin, he found that he desperately wanted you to say yes.

He continued playing with your breast as he waited patiently for your answer.

Like the heavy panting that filled the otherwise silent room wasn’t enough answer.

“Y-yeah.” You licked your lips. “I want you to fuck me in the ass, Eddie.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he breathed out. “That fucking mouth of yours is gonna be the death of me someday.”

A shiver of excitement raced down his spine. Slowly, deliberately, he trailed his free hand lower, fingers skimming over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You twitched beneath his touch, bringing a smug curl to the corners of his mouth.

Leaning down again, he captured your mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing your gasps. His other hand mapped the planes of your chest, tweaking your nipple until you writhed beneath him. Breaking away, his dark brown eyes found yours under the soft sunlight spilling through the window.

Not exactly the same way his dream had been, but similar enough.

“We’ll take it slow, okay?” He assured, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

To punctuate his promise, he slowly rolled his hips against yours, groaning at the delicious friction.

He gently guided you onto your stomach, trailing reverent kisses down the length of your spine. When he reached your ass, he hooked his tattooed fingers into the waistband of your lacy underwear, tugging them torturously slow down your legs. Cool air kissed heated skin as he bared you inch by tantalising inch.

Eddie took a moment to admire the sight of you spread out before him, warm and quivering and absolutely desperate under his gaze.

“Gonna be so gentle with you, I promise,” he panted over your bare back, leaving soft kisses in between words.

He gave both of your ass cheeks a hard slap, watching the soft fat giggle afterwards. His heartbeat quickened and a low groan fell from his lips as his eyes maintained glued to your ass, slowly pulling your cheeks apart until you were completely exposed for him.

He never actually tried anal, or even gave it a second thought as had already been established, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew the familiar bottle of lube tucked away in your dresser probably wasn’t the right kind, but it would have to do.

The drawer creaked softly as he pulled it open and reached for the bottle. It felt cool and slick against his fingertips as he gave it a tentative squeeze.

Eddie flicked his wrist, circling your rim teasingly, relishing your trembling exhale when you felt the cold, slick texture of the lube. Then, with careful pressure, he began to ease his pinky finger inside, determined to keep his promise of taking it slow.

“I– mmpff!”

He eased his finger deeper, marvelling at the tight heat enveloping him. He traced delicate circles, massaging gently until the initial tension faded and a breathy moan escaped your lips.

“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed softly. Then, lowering his voice like he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, he added: “Can’t believe you’re letting me do this, sweetheart.”

He gently worked a second finger in alongside the first, pumping slowly. The wet sounds of his fingers sliding in and out of your tight ass filled the room, obscene and head spinning.

“I-It hurts, Eds.” You whimpered, but immediately shook your head when he asked if you wanted to stop.

Watching you respond to his touch, pretty and swollen pussy fully on display and leaking as it continued being ignored brought a heady rush of pride and possession to him — how could he not, when he was the first person you’d allowed to have you this way?

“A-ah!” You breathed out at the empty feeling as he slowly removed his fingers out of you. “E-Ed— F-fuck.”

“C’mon, sweetheart.” He gently tapped your hips twice with his slick digits. “Can you push yourself up your hands and knees for me?”

The request came softly, and you instantly complied by pushing your ass up higher for him. Slicking his fingers once more, he reverently traced your rim in lazy circles before slowly dipping his fingers back inside, testing a third one before pressing forwards just a fraction.

Your cheek rested flush against the mattress, eyelashes fluttering with every slippery, careful thrust he gave your tight hole.

Eddie watched your face intently, sinking in steadily, increments of progress marked by your hitched breaths and broken moans. The tight clutch you had around his digits was maddening, and Eddie had to resist the urge to immediately plunge deeper, harder. Instead, almost against his will, he rocked shallowly, letting you adjust to the stretch of the three, thick fingers he had in your ass as he patiently waited for your cue.

“P-please E-Eds,” you whimpered, desperately pushing your ass against his hand. “M-more.”

Eddie’s heartbeat quickened at your breathless plea. Slowly, he eased a fourth finger inside you, taking care to maintain a steady, slow rhythm. His free hand found the small of your back, gently rubbing circles against your skin when he felt you tense up at the stretch.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he murmured distractedly, eyes completely fixed on the way you greedily sucked his fingers in. “It’s okay, I got you.”

You keened softly, hips canting back greedily for more when the sharp stretched dulled.

The lewd squelch of lube echoed obscenely, mingling with your panting breaths and hitching moans. Eddie felt completely drunk at the sight, fingers pumping faster and deeper, curling and twisting as he chased the perfect angle to send sparks dancing along your nerves. His other hand snaked around to circle your clit, stroking in time with his thrusts.

“That’s it, baby. Feel good, hm?”

“S-so, so good, Eds,” you moaned out, rolling your eyes to the back of your head.

The obscene wetness between your thighs dripped down to your bedsheets with each wet slide of his fingers making you writhe shamelessly, lost in the pleasure only he could offer you.

Eddie’s cock, desperate and ignored, basically wept as it begged for attention. A wet patch of pre-cum had long since stained his boxers, and it only continued to grow with each passing minute.

A chill ran down his spine at the thought of burying his aching cock deep in your ass, feel you clench and flutter apart around him while you screamed his name.

Eddie’s eyes were pulled away from your greedy hole, landing on your curling toes. A smug grin spread across his lips at the sight, and he made it his mission to make you come like this — completely on display and at his mercy.

“You close, sweetheart?”

“Mhmm!”

At your breathless response, Eddie doubled his efforts, fingers plunging relentlessly as his other palm ground against your swollen clit and fingertips dipped shallowly into your cunt. The dual stimulation proved too much and you came undone with a broken cry.

“F-fuck! Ed-Eddie!”

Eddie buried his face in your neck, muffling sweet nothings in your ear as hot pulses painted your inner thighs. After a moment, he peppered your temple with feather-light kisses, basking in your warmth.

“You’re so beautiful when you come for me,” he whispered.

“I…” You trailed off quietly, swiping your tongue across your dry bottom lip. “P-please, Eds.”

“Hm?” He pressed a lingering kiss against your shoulder and carefully coaxed his fingers out of you, stroking the small of your back when a string of broken whimpers fell out of your mouth. “It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay. I got you.”

Still catching your breath, you blinked dazedly up at him. The drunk look in your glimmering eyes raced a thrill down his spine at the thought of claiming you so thoroughly.

“P-please, Eds, need m-more,” you breathed out.

“Yeah? Sweet girl wants me to fuck her ass?” He cooed lowly, tracing soft circles at your hips as he pulled you closer to his still clothed cock.

“Y-yeah,” you nodded dumbly, mouth hanging open and drool dripping down on the bed beneath you. “W-want you to fuck my a-ass.”

With a low groan, Eddie reached for the bottle of lube once again, squeezing a generous amount of the sticky texture on your stretched hole before abandoning it somewhere beside you. He pushed himself off the bed and his boxers were pushed down his legs in a hurry, quickly forgotten as he threw it on the floor.

He pulled you closer by gripping your hips. Eddie slid his aching cock against your ass, spreading some of the lube against his length before he teased your slick opening with his mushroom tip. Heavy, calloused fingers dug into your hips, surging forward and sheathing himself slowly in small strokes.

“F-fuck! I-It burns,” you cried out, reaching a hand to stop him from moving.

Your hand twitched against his hip bone as you looked back at him with glossy eyes and furrowed eyebrows.

“J-Jesus,” he groaned out, accidentally rolling his hips despite your hand still trying to stop him. His eyes fluttered shut and his mouth hang low at the overwhelming feeling of your tight hole engulfing him. “Sorry, baby. I can’t help it, y-you’re so f-fucking tight.”

“Mmpff!”

Gulping down a dry lump, Eddie opened up his eyes and immediately looked down at where the two of you connected. His pink cock bordered on red, aching for more stimulation as only half of it had been pushed in. Slowly, after your hand had fallen away again, he rolled his hips backwards. His dark brown eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head at the sight of your ass gripping him, desperately trying to hold onto his cock, before he pushed back further into your greedy hole.

Eddie set a slow pace, hips moving back and forth in gradual thrusts until his hips are snapping urgently against the globes of your ass. The filthy slaps of his hairy balls against your dripping, neglected pussy and your broken moans spurred him on, driving him closer to the edge than he wanted.

“Y-you— ah, fuck!” You cried out, completely cock-drunk. “Mhmm, s-so g-good, Eds!”

“Yeah?” Eddie asked darkly, chest heaving at his relentless pace. “You like having my big cock in your ass, baby?”

“Y-yes! I l-love it!”

Captivated by your hopeless cries, Eddie redoubled his efforts, pounding into you with abandon. The lewd squelch of lube and your creaking bedframe filled the room, underscoring your desperate, broken moans.

The grip he had on your hips was bruising as he pistoned forwards, chasing his release. Eddie dragged a hand up your sweat-slicked spine, revelling in the goosebumps rising in its wake.

He leaned down, nuzzling in your neck and grazing his teeth against your tender skin.

“That’s it, baby,” he growled, punctuating each word with a sharp snap of his hips. “Come for me again.”

Eddie grabbed a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back until you had no choice but to push off the mattress. His chest was scalding hot against your back as he laved attention along your throat while his other hand snaked back down to your clit, desperate for your second orgasm to hit you so he could feel your ass clamp down on his cock.

“I-I’m coming, Eddie,” you breathed out hopelessly, tilting your head back against his shoulder and looking up at him with teary eyes and trembling lips. “P-please, d-don’t stop!”

With a hoarse cry, your orgasm crashed over you, muscles seizing as waves of ecstasy radiated outwards. The rhythmic clench of your tight hole nearly pushed Eddie over the edge as he pushed your face back into the mattress, holding you by the back of your head as he desperately chased his own release.

“J-Jesus, f-f-fuck!” he moaned out, orgasm ripping through him like wildfire.

He fell forwards, sinking his teeth into the crook of your neck as he gave you one last, particularly hard thrust. With a strangled groan, he hilted himself deep, pulsing hot spurts of his sticky cum in your ass.

Eddie collapsed on top of you, gasping for air amidst the trembling aftershocks. His teeth finally let go of the sensitive skin of your neck, replacing them with soft, lingering kisses instead.

“Sweetheart?” He called after a few minutes. “You still with me?”

As the haze started to clear, he strained to make out your unintelligible mumble. He held his breath, searching your face for clues.

“What?”

“I said,” you repeated tiredly, eyes fluttering shut as a small, satisfied smile tugged at your lips. “I think you just killed me.”

A quiet chuckle escaped Eddie at your tired declaration.

Pulling you closer against his chest, still buried deep inside your ass, Eddie rolled the two of you to your sides and pressed a tender kiss to your temple.

Closing his eyes, Eddie focused on slowing his breathing, quickly basking in the warmth of your skin against his while his mind continued reeling from the remnants of his dreams and everything that had unfolded since.

A soft groan escaped you as you turned your head back to look at him over your shoulder.

“Did you…” You hesitated for a moment. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Did I enjoy—” An almost disbelieving laugh escaped him as he dragged a hand through his messy hair. “Sweetheart, you just blew my fucking mind.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the wonder lingering in his voice.

“Really?”

Eddie looked at you like you’d asked the stupidest question imaginable.

“I don’t think I can just go back to fucking your pussy.”

The confession made your breath hitch before a comfortable silence settled between you. His dark brown eyes glimmered under the warm morning sunlight as they trailed across your face and down your naked, still intertwined bodies.

Then your stomach let out a loud, unmistakable growl, completely shattering the moment.

Eddie stared at you for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Don’t think it’s worth reheating the eggs.”

“Eh, worth it,” you murmured.

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Definitely worth it.”

permanent tag list? just ask!

The campaign wrapped twenty minutes ago, and the rest of the party’s long gone. Dustin left with a sly, knowing wink, Erica tossed an eye-roll so fierce it could’ve cracked glass, and Mike muttered something about “get a room.” They scattered without a fight. They know better than to linger when the air gets this charged.

Eddie’s sprawled in his throne, as always, legs kicked wide, one arm slung over the armrest, the other between his legs. His ripped black jeans and faded Corroded Coffin tee scream chaos, but there’s natural ease to him. His dark curls spill over his shoulders. He’s all relaxed on the surface, but you catch the glint in his eyes. He is waiting for your next move.

The lock on the door turns with a click.

You step toward him, slow, hips swaying just enough to make his gaze flicker. In your hand is the black silk blindfold, the same one he’d spun between his fingers with a devilish grin days ago, daring you to play his game.

“Hands behind the backrest, Munson,” you say with just a hint of a challenge.

His lips twitch. “Well, well, look at you, stealing the Dungeon Master’s script.” His voice is sceptical and teasing, and you are dying to teach him a lesson. He complies though, leaning back, hands behind the throne, wrists crossing. “Go on, then. Direct the scene, princess.”

You step behind him, leaning close enough that your breath brushes his ear as you tie the silk over his eyes.

The knot’s tight, no give. His head tilts slightly, chasing the sound of you, but he doesn’t speak, he just lets out a low, theatrical hum, like he’s savoring the suspense as you tie his hands behind the throne.

Eddie hears the soft click of your heels once, twice, and then nothing as you kick them off, bare feet quiet on the floor. Your fingers graze his rough jaw, light as a whisper, and you feel the faintest shiver.

“Eddie, the banished was gullible enough to drink from the bottle of wine Vespera sent him as a token of her gratitude,” you murmur, letting your voice curl around him, “and now you wake up captured. The mighty dungeon master, all that fire and flair… mine to play with.”

He lets out a sharp breath, half-laugh, half-groan. “Careful, sweetheart,” he drawls, voice dripping with mock menace. “You keep talking like that, you’re gonna start a riot in these jeans.” Even blindfolded, he’s all bravado, leaning forward just enough to test the space between you, like he’s daring you to push back.

You drop to your knees between his spread thighs, and whatever quip he was brewing dies in his throat.

Your hands unbuckle his belt. You drag the zipper down. His jeans part just enough; you tug them down with the boxers and his cock springs free, already hard and flushed at the tip.

You wrap your fingers around him, stroking once, slow and firm. His hips twitch up, and he can’t stop himself from groaning:

“Fuck… Vespera,” he starts, but you cut him off.

“Shh.” You lean in, letting your breath fan hot against his cock. “No talking. Or I will have to gag you.”

Then your mouth is on him.

No teasing, no games, deep right from the start. Your lips stretch around him, tongue pressing flat along the underside as you take half his length in one glide. His head snaps back against the throne with a thud, a hissed blasphemy slipping out before he can stop it.

You hum a little, the vibration making him tremble slightly, and start to move. Slow at first, savoring the heat and weight of him, how he gets even harder against your tongue. Then faster, head bobbing, cheeks hollowing, one hand stroking the base, the other cupping his balls, rolling them with a gentle twist.

His hands tense behind the backrest. You know he’s itching to grab your hair, to take control, but the blindfold and the tie keep him pinned and completely at your mercy. Frustration mixes with delight in his grunt.

You pull off with a wet pop, dragging your tongue underneath, then swirling around the head like you’re savoring something delicious. Back down, you go deeper, until your nose brushes the dark curls at his base. You hold there, throat working around him, and he chokes out a string of half-curses, half-praises.

“Fuck… where the hell did you… so good,” His voice cracks, and you pull off just enough to speak, lips glossy, voice husky.

“Maybe I was a virgin two weeks ago, Eddie,” you say, stretching the words. “But not clueless.”

He barks a laugh, bright and delighted, that melts into a groan when you dive back in, sucking harder, moving faster. “You little… fuck… minx,” he manages, voice tight with awe. “Gonna suck my soul out.”

Instead of an answer you take him all in again, throat fluttering. His thighs tense, hips jerking in short, helpless thrusts. The throne creaks under him.

“I’m gonna… fuck… come,” his voice is wrecked, his throat dry.

You don't stop. You double down, sucking hard, tongue flicking the sensitive spot just under the head, free hand slipping up under his shirt to graze nails across his chest.

He comes with a choked “Holy shit,” back arching off the throne, hips snapping forward, spilling down your throat. You swallow every drop, until he’s oversensitive and moaning.

You slowly rise and drink from your water bottle. Eddie hears it and silently begs you for a drink. You give him a sip directly from your mouth, then press the bottle neck to his lips. A few drops escape and you lick them away, your eyes never leaving his blindfolded face. Slowly, you reach for the hem of your top and pull it over your head, taking your bra right after and dropping it on the floor. Sitting on his lap, you bring your hands up to your breasts and squeeze them gently, sliding your palms over the curves and rolling your nipples between your fingers.

The sound of your clothes coming off makes Eddie’s ears prick. “Princess, you’re torturing me,” he rasps, his voice rough. “Tell me what you’re doing.”

“I’m looking at you,” you murmur, sliding your skirt and panties off. “And I’m playing with my boobs. My nipples are so hard right now, Eddie.”

A low groan rips from his throat. Right before your eyes, his cock twitches, hardening back up until he’s fully erect again, pink and glistening.

You smirk, straddling his lap and settling onto his thighs. You guide his thick length into your wet pussy, the stretch burning so good. You lean forward, rubbing your bare breasts against his t-shirt, tilting his chin to the side to kiss his jaw. “And now Vespera is taking her prize.”

You lift your hips and then press down, burying him deeper inside you.

“Fuck… you’re so warm… so tight,” Eddie pants, his face flushing pink.

You begin to move in a steady, grinding rhythm, the throne creaks loudly under the weight of you both. You lean back, arching your spine, your hands cupping your own breasts as you ride him.

Suddenly, with a sharp grunt of exertion, Eddie wrenches his arms forward. The hastily tied knot gives in. Before you can even register the shift, his hands lock onto your waist with a bruising grip.

“My turn to dictate the scene,” he growls against your neck.

With a feral jerk of his hips, Eddie thrusts up into you, slamming his cock in your worked up pussy to the absolute limit. Eddie pulls the blindfold away and looks at you with his eyes full of awe, an expression he will never recognize later. He kisses you with all he has got, the tongue, the teeth. The pace is his now, strong hands pulling you down as he jerks up with brutal force.

“You turn me on too much… I’m not gonna last,” Eddie chokes out, gasping like he’s run a marathon as he nears the edge for the second time. “I’m close… princess… fuck,” he reaches to rub your clit in tense circles. He somehow holds on until you come squeezing him tight. Seconds later, Eddie follows you over the cliff with a loud, undone groan, and pumps his release deep.

You collapse forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder, completely spent.

“Well,” he says, still inside, “you know how to make a goddamn plot twist.” He shakes his head, a grin tugging at his lips. “Thought I had you figured out, but, fuck, sweetheart, you’re full of surprises.”

You smirk, hiding how much you love his praise, and carefully get off him. “Now Vespera will let the Dungeon Master go, if he promises never to set her up for certain death again.”

Eddie laughs loud, and yanks you down into a messy, hungry kiss. “Only if I get side quests like this often,” he mutters against your lips, one hand tangling in your hair.

Your eyes flash with that newly discovered playful glint. “Next time,” you say, “I want you tied with something stronger. Handcuffs, maybe.”

His grin is all teeth, pure Eddie. “Oh, princess,” he purrs, leaning in to nip at your jaw. “Name the night. I’ll bring the hardware.”

You kiss him again, slow and lingering. “Next time,” you whisper.

how they met:

Curse of the City Brat

PS: There is a lot more where this came from, plot included! Editing is my least favorite chore, so please let me know if you want to see the rest of their story.

dividers by @sister-lucifer and @saradika-graphics

@mayawainfleet

@alicemarie730

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@avenjames-anderson

@dearmyfuture

You relied on Eddie in many ways. Guy problems? He was the first one you'd call if a date went sour. Work drama? The second you got off, you'd pace around his trailer, explaining the usual bullshit as he sat on the couch, chiming in when necessary.

Somewhere along the way, the line between "best friends" and... whatever this was had gotten a little blurry. You couldn't remember exactly when it happened. Maybe it was the fact that you had a drawer at Eddie's trailer for spare clothes, or that he never knocked before walking into your apartment. 

Hell, even the rest of your friends had long since given up trying to figure it out. Robin had stopped correcting strangers when they assumed you two were dating, Dustin had started referring to you as "Eddie's girl" just to watch the two of you sputter, and Steve swore you were both "the dumbest almost-couple" he'd ever met.

The funny part was, neither of you ever denied liking the other. You just... never actually admitted it, either.

So life carried on in that weird in-between, where lingering touches lasted a little too long, late-night drives felt suspiciously like dates, and neither of you was brave enough to ask what any of it meant.

In many ways, Eddie was the best friend you could ask for. But the one thing you hated? He was a cocky bastard when it came to anything competitive. 

Any game night, whether that's something as simple as Uno or arcade games, he thought he was the best. Though, to be fair, he was. Which is why, after one fateful 1v1 of pool at the Hideout, when he conned your ass like a fool and beat you out of a hundred bucks, you needed revenge.

So, naturally, your pride wouldn't let him teach you how to play, oh no. Instead, you decided to ask Steve. Steve wasn't someone in the group you were particularly close to.

But, beyond him, your options to teach you how to win at stupid bar games were Robin, who was as agile as a baby deer, or Nancy, who could care less about you and Eddie's billiard feud.

Steve looked up from where he was wiping down the windshield of his BMW in his driveway, rag slung over one shoulder. "You want me to do what?"

"Teach me pool."

He blinked. "...Pool."

"Yes, Steve. The game. With the sticks."

"I know what pool is."

"Good. Then we're making progress."

He laughed, tossing the rag over the hood. "Since when have you been interested in pool?"

You crossed your arms. "I'm interested in beating Eddie."

"Oh."

"Exactly."

A grin slowly spread across his face. "...I'm in."

The Hideout wasn't open yet, save for a handful of regulars nursing beers before the evening crowd rolled in.

Music crackled quietly through the speakers while Eddie hauled cases of liquor behind the bar, already halfway through complaining to Gareth about a distributor screwing up another order.

"You know what they gave us?" Eddie scoffed. "Light beer. We don't even sell the shit."

Gareth shrugged. "People drink it."

"No, they most certainly do not."

Then the front door opened, so Eddie glanced over automatically. You walked in first with Steve following close behind.

His eyebrows pinched together. "...What the hell?"

Steve waved toward the bar. "Yo."

Eddie nodded slowly. "Harrington."

Then his eyes landed back on you. "What're you doing here? Thought you worked today."

"I did."

"And now?"

You smiled sweetly. "I'm learning."

"...Learning what?"

Steve answered before you could. "Pool."

Eddie glanced between the two of you, raising one finger accusingly. "...From you?"

Steve looked genuinely confused by the question. "...Yeah?"

"You know how to play?"

Steve frowned. "Dude."

"What?"

"I've been playing forever."

Eddie stared for another second before scoffing to himself.

"...Whatever." Then, he disappeared into the back, huffing something under his breath.

For the next forty-five minutes, Steve proved to be a surprisingly patient teacher.

"No, loosen your grip."

"I'm trying."

"I know, but you're choking the cue."

"I'm not choking it."

"You absolutely are."

He stepped behind you. "Here."

His hands lightly adjusted yours on the cue. "Relax your shoulders."

You exhaled.

"There."

You lined up another shot and missed. "Oh, come on!"

"You looked better."

"I looked better?"

"That's half the battle."

Across the room, Eddie slammed a rack of glasses onto the shelf harder than necessary, causing Gareth to look over.

"...Everything alright?"

"Fantastic."

"You sure?"

"Mhm."

He dared another glance; Steve had crouched beside you now, pointing toward one of the corner pockets.

"If you bank it off this rail—"

Eddie shook his head and continued polishing the same glass he'd already finished.

"He's practically climbing inside her personal bubble."

Gareth followed his gaze to Steve's arm, which reached across yours to point toward the angle.

"...Looks like he's just showing her."

"Mhm."

"You jealous?"

Eddie barked out a laugh. "Of Steve? ...No."

"Exactly."

Gareth watched him continue scrubbing the spotless glass.

"...You're polishing air."

"I know."

"...You wanna go interrupt them?"

"No."

"...Looks like she's laughing."

"I can see."

Steve said something that made you laugh again, a little louder than the last time.

Eddie's jaw ticked. "He's not even that funny."

Gareth snorted. "You realize you've been watching them for like twenty minutes?"

"I have not."

"You absolutely have."

"I've been working."

"Eddie."

"What?"

"...You've poured the same guy three refills without him asking."

Eddie froze and slowly looked toward the older regular sitting at the bar. The man raised his fourth full beer.

"Thanks, Munson!"

"...Shit."

By the end of the lesson, you actually sank three balls in a row.

Steve pointed at the table dramatically. "There it is!"

"I did that."

"You did."

"I actually did that."

"Told you."

You grinned. "You are officially my favorite Harrington."

"There aren't exactly many of us."

Still smiling, you turned toward the bar. "Eddie!"

He looked up immediately. "What?"

Your grin somehow got even bigger. "Rematch."

The entire bar seemed to perk up. Eddie leaned against the counter, folding his arms.

"...You sure?"

"Oh, I'm positive."

"You just spent an hour getting coached."

"So?"

"I don't know..." A slow smirk tugged at his mouth. "Sounds a little desperate."

"It sounds like I got tired of losing to someone whose entire personality revolves around a pool table."

A chorus of quiet "oohs" erupted from the regulars. Eddie placed a hand dramatically over his chest.

"That's hurtful."

"You'll survive."

He pushed off the bar, grabbing a cue from behind the counter. "Same bet?"

You scoffed. "I'm not giving you another hundred dollars."

"Coward."

"I'm being financially responsible."

"Chicken."

"I'm smarter than you."

"Doubtful."

Steve quietly stepped backward. "Yeah…I'm gonna head out."

"You probably should," Gareth agreed.

"You created this monster."

"I absolutely did."

Eddie twirled the cue once in his hand before pointing it at you. "You've got one shot, sweetheart."

You stepped closer until only the pool table separated the two of you. "I only need one."

His grin faltered for just a second. Not because of the challenge, lord knows he loves a challenging woman. But because you'd wandered close enough that he could smell your perfume.

You caught the slight pause in his usual bravado, eyes quickly darting across his face. Then Eddie recovered first, spinning the cue between his fingers with that infuriatingly cocky grin.

"Ladies first."

"Oh," you smiled, taking the cue from his hand just slowly enough for your fingers to brush against his, "I'm gonna enjoy wiping that smug look off your face."

His eyebrow quirked up then. "...We'll see."

The first break went to you.

You leaned over the table, tongue poking against the inside of your cheek the way Steve had told you not to do because it apparently made you overthink your shot. The cue cracked against the rack, sending the balls scattering across the felt.

One dropped, then another, causing a grin to spread across your face.

"Oh, that's gotta sting."

Eddie clicked his tongue. "Beginner's luck."

"You've been saying that for the last three games."

"And eventually I'll be right."

"I've won one."

"You've won almost one."

"I was one ball away."

"You still lost."

You rolled your eyes, circling the table as you looked for your next shot. "God, you're insufferable."

"And yet, here you are."

"Only because watching you lose is going to heal something in me."

Eddie laughed under his breath, leaning his hip against the edge of the table while you lined up your cue.

"Careful," he mused. "Harrington tell you to keep your elbow up?"

You didn't look at him. "He did, actually."

"Hm."

"And to follow through."

"Mhm."

"And to stop gripping the cue like I was trying to strangle it."

Eddie made a face. "...That sounds like something he'd say."

"It worked."

"So did cheating."

You looked up. "I wasn't aware lessons counted as cheating."

"They do when they're from the enemy."

"The enemy?" You snorted. "Steve?"

"He knows what he is."

"Oh, does he?"

"Mhm."

You laughed quietly, taking your shot. The cue ball kissed the side of yours just enough to send it into the corner pocket, causing it to disappear with a satisfying clack.

Your jaw dropped. "I meant to do that."

"No, you didn't."

"I absolutely did."

"You looked surprised."

"I was surprised by how well I did it."

"Sure."

You pointed the cue at him. "Don't ruin this for me."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

The game continued like that, each shot somehow accompanied by another jab, another smug remark, another excuse for the two of you to drift closer as you circled opposite ends of the table.

"You scratched."

"I was distracted."

"By what?"

"You talking."

"I wasn't talking."

"You exist loudly."

"I do not."

"You absolutely do."

You nudged him lightly with your shoulder as you squeezed past him. He didn't move, not even an inch.

"You know," you muttered, looking up at him, "most people would step out of the way."

"I'm not most people."

"So I've noticed."

Instead, he leaned down just enough that his shoulder bumped yours back.

"Figure it out."

"Oh, you're the worst."

"Sure I am.”

You huffed dramatically before ducking around him, though not without your arm brushing against his on the way by.

A few turns later, you found yourself stuck behind him as he leaned over the table, studying an angle that frankly looked impossible.

You waited, but he simply didn't move. "Eddie."

"Mhm?"

"I can't see."

"I'm thinking."

"You've been thinking for like two minutes."

"It's called strategy."

"It's called stalling."

He looked over his shoulder. "I don't stall."

"You absolutely stall."

"I am visualizing."

"You are making shit up."

Finally, he straightened, only to find you standing much closer than he'd expected. For a second, neither of you stepped back.

Then you smiled. "My turn."

He cleared his throat and took a step aside. "Be my guest."

You bent over the table, carefully lining up your shot. The cue slid forward, clack, and another ball dropped.

Behind you, Eddie let out an exaggerated sigh. "I knew Harrington was a bad influence."

You glanced over your shoulder. "Oh my God."

"What?"

"You are unbelievable."

"I'm serious."

"No, you're not."

"He spent one afternoon with you and suddenly you're running tables."

"I'm hardly running the table."

"You're certainly trying."

You rested both hands on the cue, smiling to yourself. "You know..."

"What?"

"...If I didn't know any better..."

Eddie lifted an eyebrow.

"...I'd say you're jealous of Steve."

Eddie's smile stayed exactly where it was. Only this time, it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Jealous?"

"Mhm."

"Of Steve."

"You've mentioned him..." You pretended to think for a moment. "...What? Eight times since we started?"

"I have not."

"You've called him the enemy."

"He is."

"You accused him of cheating."

"He was."

"You've insulted his teaching."

"It wasn't that good."

"I've made more shots tonight than I have in the last six months."

He clicked his tongue. "Coincidence."

You laughed. "You're jealous."

He held your gaze for a long moment, twirling the cue lazily between his fingers before shrugging one shoulder. "...Maybe I was."

Eddie looked almost as surprised by his own answer as you were. He scratched the back of his neck, looking away with a quiet scoff.

"I mean..." he muttered, trying and failing to sound casual, "guy's got his hands all over you. Kinda weird."

Your heart did a slow, traitorous little flip. "So that's what this is about?"

He looked back at you. "I don't like people assuming they can get all cozy with you."

"Steve was teaching me."

"I know."

"You've practically climbed all over me trying to fix my stance before."

"That's different."

"How?"

"'Cause..." He gestured vaguely between the two of you. "...It's me."

You couldn't help it when a grin spread across your face. "Oh, wow."

"What?"

"You really don't hear yourself, do you?"

"Oh, shut up."

You laughed outright this time, and Eddie couldn't stop himself from smiling back, shaking his head as he pointed the cue toward the table.

"Take your shot before I remember why I like beating you so much."

You stepped up beside him, your shoulder brushing his as you passed.

"I'm starting to think you don't like beating me nearly as much as you pretend you do."

For the first time all night, Eddie didn't have a smartass comeback. He just watched you lean over the table, trying very hard not to notice how unfairly pretty you looked when you were concentrating.

The game stretched on longer than it should have, every shot laced with your growing confidence and Eddie's sharpening edges.

But in the end, you sank the eight-ball clean, right into the corner pocket with a decisive thunk that echoed through the bar like a victory bell.

The regulars let out a low chorus of approval. Eddie stared at the table for a moment too long, cue still gripped tight in one hand, before his gaze lifted to yours.

That cocky smirk was still plastered on his face, but it had gone tight at the corners.

You leaned on your cue, flushed with triumph and just enough adrenaline to push. "Hmph. Steve must be a good teacher after all," you said sweetly, tilting your head. 

Something dark flickered in Eddie's eyes. He set the cue down with deliberate calm, then crossed the space between you in two strides. His fingers wrapped around your wrist, lifting it with a gentle yet firm grip. 

"Alright," he said, voice low, "that's enough."

He tugged you toward the back hallway, past the storage room and out the rear door into the narrow alley behind the Hideout. The door slammed shut behind you, cutting off the muffled sounds of the bar. 

"Eddie—" you started, but he spun you around, pressing your back to the rough brick before you could finish. His body crowded yours instantly, one thigh slotting between your legs as his free hand braced beside your head.

"You think this is funny?" he growled, mouth hovering inches from yours. His breath was ragged. "Parading Harrington in here, letting him put his hands all over you while I watch?"

"He was teaching me," you breathed, even as heat pooled low in your belly. God, he was jealous. Really jealous. It shouldn't turn you on this much, but the way his grip tightened on your wrist sent a shiver straight through you.

"Sure, doll. Teaching." Eddie's other hand slid down your side, bunching your shirt up roughly until his palm met bare skin. "Laughed at his shitty jokes. Let him stand that close." He leaned in, lips brushing your ear. "You know exactly what you're doing to me, sweetheart."

You arched into him. "Maybe I do."

That was all it took. His mouth crashed into yours, all teeth and tongue and pent-up frustration. You kissed him back just as fiercely, fingers threading into his curls and tugging hard enough to make him groan against your lips. 

He tasted like cheap beer and that stupid cinnamon gum he always chewed, and underneath it all, that unmistakable Eddie scent that always made your head spin.

His hand shoved under your waistband without preamble, fingers dipping between your thighs to find you already slick. A low, satisfied rumble vibrated in his chest.

"Fuck. This wet for me, or were you thinking about his hands the whole time?"

"Yours," you gasped as he circled your clit with two rough fingertips, pressing just right. "Always yours, you idiot."

"Good answer." He nipped at your bottom lip, then spun you again; face toward the wall this time.

Your palms braced against the cool brick as he yanked your jeans and underwear down in one impatient motion, just enough to bare you to the night air. The sound of his belt buckle and zipper was obscenely loud in the quiet alley.

He pressed against your back, hard and hot, one hand sliding up to wrap loosely around your throat.

"You don't get to tease me like that and walk away," he murmured, lips against the shell of your ear. His cock nudged at your entrance, thick and insistent. "Gonna fuck the thought of him right out of you."

Then he thrusted in deep, one smooth stroke that punched the air from your lungs. You moaned, the sound echoing off the bricks as he filled you completely. He didn't give you time to adjust. Just pulled back and drove in again, setting a punishing rhythm that had your toes curling in your shoes.

" Eddie—fuck—"

"Yeah, say my name." His grip on your hip tightened, rings digging in as he angled deeper, hitting that spot that made sparks explode behind your eyes. "Louder. Let the whole damn alley hear who you belong to."

You did. Gasping it out between thrusts, voice breaking as pleasure coiled tighter and tighter. He reached around, fingers finding your clit again, rubbing in tight, relentless circles while his hips snapped against your ass.

"Such a brat," he panted, teeth grazing your shoulder through your shirt. "You were so cocky before. What happened, huh baby?" He punctuated each word with a thrust, grinding deep on the last one until you were trembling.

The orgasm hit you like a freight train. You clenched around him, crying out as waves of heat crashed through you. Eddie followed right behind with a choked groan, burying himself to the hilt and spilling hot inside you, hips stuttering as he rode it out.

For a long moment, the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the distant hum of traffic. Then he eased out slowly, careful despite the raw edge still humming between you. He tucked himself away, then turned you gently, pulling your clothes back into place with surprisingly tender hands.

Eddie rested his forehead against yours, thumbs brushing your flushed cheeks. "You okay?" he asked. 

You smiled, still catching your breath, and tugged lightly at one of his curls. "I'm okay."

"You sure?"

"Mhm."

He searched your face for another second anyway, like he wasn't entirely convinced until he saw the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. Only then did his shoulders finally loosen.

"There you are," he murmured.

"There I am?"

"You disappeared for a minute."

"I think I had a good reason."

He snorted, ducking his head with an embarrassed grin. It was strange seeing him like this.

Five minutes ago, he'd been all confidence and smart remarks, and now he suddenly looked like the same guy who got flustered whenever Wayne asked if the two of you were dating.

You brushed an imaginary speck of dust from the shoulder of his jacket. "So..."

"So?"

"...Does this mean I finally get to stop pretending we're just friends?"

His eyes met yours again. "I'd really appreciate that."

You laughed quietly. "I've gotta admit, Munson. I was starting to think you were hopeless."

"Oh, I was."

"You were."

"I mean it." He leaned back against the brick wall, slipping one hand into yours.

"I don't think I realized just how bad I had it until today."

"The pool lessons pissed you off that bad?"

He nodded. "When I saw Harrington behind you..." He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head at himself. "God, I was so irrationally pissed."

You raised an eyebrow. "Really? I couldn’t tell."

“Shut up.”

"He was just teaching me pool so I could beat you and get on your nerves." You bumped his shoulder. "Which, by the way, worked beautifully."

"Yeah, yeah."

"You were glaring at him like he keyed your van."

"He was standing way too close."

"He was showing me how to bank a shot."

"Didn't need to be all..." Eddie gestured vaguely with his free hand. "...Harrington about it."

You laughed. "What does that even mean?"

"You know."

"No, I actually don't."

"All..." He sighed dramatically. "Perfect hair. Nice smile. Hands everywhere."

"His hands were on the cue."

Eddie gave you a look. "Mostly."

You couldn't help laughing. "You're unbelievable."

"I know that now."

"You knew it then."

"...I did."

"So why were you so grumpy?"

He was quiet for a second, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

"Because I kept thinking..." He shrugged, almost embarrassed by himself. "'What if she realizes she likes him better?'"

You blinked. "...Steve?"

"Sounds stupid out loud, doesn't it?"

"A little."

"Thanks."

"Eddie." You laughed, giving his hand a squeeze. "You really thought I was gonna fall for Steve Harrington because he showed me how to hold a pool cue?"

"I wasn't exactly thinking rationally."

"Clearly."

He groaned, dropping his head against your shoulder. "Can we pretend I never admitted any of this?"

"Absolutely not."

"Figured."

love me a good dom!eddie what can i say

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it felt like the room was spinning. your mother’s voice had started to fade off into the distance, but her words still echoed in your mind. all you could feel was rage — unbridled, raw, and overwhelming. 

you had taken a lot from her over the years, stayed silent and tried to be a good daughter, but everyone eventually reaches their breaking point.

“you know what,” you said, slamming your hand down and standing up from your seat at the dining table. “i’m not doing this with you today, mom.”

“honey? i’m only try—.”

“trying to help me, yeah, you say that all the time, but you know what? it isn’t helping me. AT ALL.” you stormed out of the dining room and into the living room, grabbing your backpack from the sofa and swinging it over your shoulders.

your mom came barreling into the room, eyes wide with fury at being talked back to. “sweetie, as your mother, i’m only doing what i think is best for you.”

“no, mom, you’re doing what you think is best for you. it’s never been about me!” you picked up your car keys from the hook next to the front door. “you only care about how you feel, what you want, what you need. news flash mom, the world doesn’t fucking revolve around you!”

she looked at you incredulously. she couldn’t believe the atrocities spilling from you. she tried to speak, but you held your hand up, shaking your head.

“i have to go to school. don’t want your perfect daughter to be late, now do you?” with that, you walked out of the house, slamming the door behind you.

“what’s wrong with you?” your friend, rebecca, asked as she walked up to the lunch table you all always sat at. “you look like your dog got run over.”

you looked up from your lunch, having been poking around at it with your fork rather than actually eating it. “it’s nothing,” you lied. “didn’t get enough sleep last night. i’m exhausted.”

“uh-huh,” she eyed you carefully as she sat across from you. “i know you well enough to know that’s a bold-faced lie. but it’s okay! if you don’t wanna tell me, i won’t press you.” 

you sighed deeply, closing your eyes for a moment before opening them again.

“it’s my mom…she…we got into it this morning,” you admitted. 

“oh shit, i’m sorry,” rebecca said, frowning softly. “is it the same stuff?”

rebecca was the first person you had confided in, besides jason, about the issues with your mother. not because you felt she was a good enough friend for that, you had barely spoken more than a few words to her outside of cheer practice, but because she had witnessed your mom berating you after a football game in the parking lot when you thought nobody else was around. 

turns out, rebecca was well-versed in the art of having a toxic mother, as her own put her through the same treatment yours did with you. the two of you became close, and you liked having someone you could vent to, who would understand you and your feelings when things got too hard to deal with.

especially since jason didn’t understand any of it. he always thought you were being too hard on your mother. that you just needed to hear her out because she loved you and was only looking out for you. it was easy for him to make that judgment, considering his own parents worshiped the ground he walked on and he could do no wrong in their eyes. he was their golden boy, the poster child for perfection, just as he was to everyone in hawkins. 

“i think she wants me to be exactly like her and that’s never gonna happen. i’m not her!” you dropped your fork onto the plastic tray with a sigh.

“maybe you should tell her about how you feel,” rebecca suggested. 

“yeah, like that’ll change anything,” you scoffed. “i’m tellin’ you, beck, she’ll just say that i’m being ridiculous and misunderstanding her.”

rebecca gazed at you solemnly. “you’re probably right, but at least you’ll have some peace of mind knowing that you got it off of your chest.”

your throat tightened, and the sting associated with tears welling in your eyes made its presence known. you quickly glanced away from her, wiping the few tears that managed to escape with the sleeve of your sweater.

you spent countless nights wishing your mother was different. wondering why she couldn’t just be proud of you, regardless of whether or not you’re a cheerleader, or in band, or played sports, or joined an academic club, or just didn’t give a shit about any extracurriculars. because at the end of the day, you’re her daughter, and her love for you should supersede all of that useless shit that won’t matter once you graduate from high school in a few months. she should want you to be happy, should lift you up and support you, not tear you down and make your formative years hell.

“you know…you should definitely start smoking weed,” rebecca said, breaking the silence. “i’m telling you, it works wonders. it helps me when my mom starts her shit. it’ll help you, too.”

“i can’t do that,” you shook your head. “my mom would kill me.”

“she doesn’t have to know,” rebecca countered. “you have that shed in the back of your house, right? the one your dad never uses? you can smoke in there if you’re afraid to do it inside. i promise you, it’ll make everything so much easier.” 

the thought does sound nice in theory. being able to shut your brain off? even for a moment? to deal with the unnecessary pressure your mother put on you? to deal with her constant judgment?

rebecca watched as the wheels turned in your head; a look of consideration sweeping across your tired features.

“okay…but…there’s only one problem. i wouldn’t know where to like, i dunno…get it?”

“well, it’s your lucky day, because i know just the person for that,” she grinned. “patrick’s guy he usually would get from moved out of town a couple weeks back. he was all bummed about it, but one of his buddies on the football team told him where he gets his. it’s actually pretty good shit.”

she talked really fast, almost like she was trying to hurry before someone walked by and heard her talking about her boyfriend’s drug habit.

“who does he get it from?” you asked slowly, brow raised as you glanced at her.

“eddie munson.”

winters in hawkins were the absolute worst. snow still covered the ground from two days prior and more was set to fall in the coming week. you hated the cold and everything that came with it. the dark, gloomy days, the freezing temperatures, the snow, etc. if you could snap your fingers and have it be spring all year ‘round, you definitely would.

especially right now, that you were standing outside by the side of the school, with no cover to shield you from the biting wind. your hands felt frozen, despite having gloves on, and the pockets of your winter coat didn’t do much to help. you silently cursed at mother nature for creating winter to begin with.

you weren’t sure how long you had been standing out in the cold. you glanced at your watch, which read 3:45pm.

fifteen minutes. he had said to meet him at 3:30. 

you scoffed, rolling your eyes as you shoved your hand back into your coat pocket. maybe he had lost track of time? or maybe he didn’t take you seriously? or he was playing some kind of prank on you? whatever the case, you were fed up with being in the cold, and wanted to go home to the warmth of your bed. 

you kicked at a rock before turning to head towards the parking lot when you smashed face-first into a solid mass, letting out a yelp of surprise. 

“whoa! hey! sorry! didn’t mean to scare you,” a voice, soft, yet full of amusement chuckled above you.

you pulled back, coming face to face with the man of the hour, himself: eddie munson.

he was panting a little, like he had been running or something, his curly hair was even more wild and unruly than it normally is, his black combat boots wet with shards of grass sticking to them. he was wearing two jackets, a light, black one underneath his signature leather jacket, his denim vest overtop, and dark denim jeans. wasn’t he cold? it didn’t look nearly warm enough to keep him comfortable in the frosty breeze.

eddie noticed the concerned look on your face, leaning in a bit closer, brown eyes furrowed as he carefully asked, “you okay?”

“uh, yeah, yeah, just—didn’t expect to literally bump into you,” you chuckled through your nose. you glanced around you, suddenly feeling a bit awkward and nervous.

“right, okay,” he shook his head. “so, um, we can do this in my van? if you want? ya know, to get out of the cold. you look like you could warm up some.”

you hadn’t realized you were practically shivering; the wind having picked up suddenly and out of nowhere.

“sure,” you nodded, giving him a small smile.

he lead the way to his van, which surprisingly wasn’t that far of a walk from where he had asked you to meet him, thankfully. he opened the passenger door for you, a charming smile plastered on his features as he dramatically gestured to the empty passenger seat. “welcome to my castle on wheels.”

you giggled, slinging your backpack off your shoulders and tossing it onto the floorboard. eddie watched as you hopped up into the van, waiting until you were completely situated before closing the door and hurrying to the driver’s side. he got in quickly and turned it on, then put the heater and blower on the highest setting.

glancing around the van, you couldn’t say you were surprised by what you saw. cassette tapes were strewn everywhere, most of which were bands that you had recognized and some you didn’t, a few receipts were also scattered on the floorboards in the front and the back, an empty cigarette pack laid next to your feet; a denim jacket was laid out in the backseat, though it wasn’t covered in patches and pins like his vest, along with his backpack that sat right next to it, unmoved.

you knew of eddie, since he was in your english class, but you didn’t know him very well, if at all. the only thing you really knew about him was that he was theatrical, eccentric, had been held back twice for failing a majority, if not all, of his classes, and that your boyfriend couldn’t stand him at all. you always felt bad for him whenever jason and his buddies picked on him. you had stood up for him, demanded that jason cut his shit out and leave him alone, only to be met with, 'he’s a freak, babe. people like that deserve to be made fun of.'

eddie cleared his throat and you were pulled from your thoughts, shifting in your seat like you had just been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to.

“sorry,” you said shyly, wringing your hands together in your lap as you looked down at them.

“don’t be,” eddie shook his head. “i know it’s a bit of a mess in here.”

“oh no, that’s not what i thought at all,” you stammered. “really.”

he looked at you with a raised brow, almost like he didn’t believe a word coming out of your mouth.

he didn’t.

“right,” he scoffed, opening the black metal box he had sitting in his lap. he took the bag of weed out and held it up for you to see, his brown eyes fixated on you. “anyway, i’ll do you a half ounce for, uh…twenty. whaddya say? plenty of bang for your buck. should last a while.”

a group of students walked by, all laughing rambunctiously, and you turned your head in their direction. your chest was heaving slightly, and your eyes were wide with anxiety as you scanned the crowd. a small part of you was worried it was jason and his friends ⎯ that he had come looking for you and would find you here with eddie. you didn’t care about what he would say to you, but more-so what he would say and do to him. the thought made you shudder.

“hey, uh, we don’t need to do this,” eddie rolled his eyes, putting the baggie back inside the metal box and closing it up. “just give me the word and i’ll walk away. or, you can walk away.”

he was annoyed. why did he even agree to sell to you in the first place? he wasn’t in dire need of money ⎯ he had made more than enough earlier in the day when trevor mcclendon bought over a hundred dollars worth of cocaine for the party he was throwing that upcoming saturday. and even if he was, he definitely didn’t need the money from jason carver’s girlfriend. of all people.

“no, no! i-i don’t want that,” you flicked your gaze back to him.

eddie turned to look at you at the exact same time, meeting your gaze. his hardened exterior faltered the second he looked into your eyes. you were scared. no? anxious? no. desperate? that seemed more like it. not desperate in the way that you had gone a long time without weed and needed a fix ⎯ no, he had seen that look one too many times to know that isn’t what was going on with you. it was one that called for help, that begged for it, and it left him wildly intrigued.

“have you ever felt…forced to be someone that you’re not?”

your voice was low, barely above a whisper, and eddie may have missed it had he not been watching you like a hawk.

everything about your body language screamed that you were uncomfortable with even talking about it. your hands were fidgeting in your lap, you kept shifting in the seat, chewing on the corner of your lip, your eyes quickly darting to look anywhere but at eddie. he didn’t expect this coming from you. not that he knew you well enough to say that this was completely out of character for you ⎯ he just didn’t think the ‘queen of hawkins high’ would ever be pretending to be someone that she wasn’t.

“uhh, well, i used to,” he cleared his throat. “back in like middle school, and shit? but uhh…then i realized it didn’t do much, ‘cauuuse i got shit on anyway, so i just said ‘fuck it’ and started doin’ my own thing. been a looot happier ever since.”

the memories of that time in his life come to the forefront of his mind. of when he got teased a lot for having long hair (though now that he thinks about it, it wouldn’t have been considered long compared to how it is now), when the other kids would laugh and call him poor because his shirts had a hole or two in them, and, of course, for being into dungeons and dragons.

he remembers coming home one day, his little eyes red and puffy from crying. he couldn’t understand why the other kids were so mean to him. all he did was keep to himself, aside from the few friends he had made who happened to like metal just like him. wayne listened to him, held him, as he cried in his lap, begging to just be like everyone else. that maybe, just maybe, they’d leave him alone.

that night, he asked wayne to cut his hair, and even though wayne tried to talk him out of it, eddie was persistent. so, wayne grabbed a pair of scissors and the hair clippers, and did as the kid wished.

he shudders at the thought, shaking his head as if to rid it completely. 

you don’t know how he does it. how he can just be himself despite everything that he gets thrown at him. the other students wouldn’t dare confront him, all being too afraid of what he’d do to them, but you know what they say behind his back. devil worshipper. cult leader. freak. weirdo. 

sitting here with him, in his van, and seeing the slight vulnerability he’s sharing with you, you start to think maybe eddie isn’t as bad as everyone makes him out to be.

you must have been silent for some time, lost in a train of thought, because eddie’s voice pulls you back into the present.

“you know, this isn’t the first time we’ve, um, hung out.”

“no?”

“you don’t remember?”

when did that happen? you tried to wrack your brain for when you had ever hung out with eddie munson.

“uh, i’m sorry,” you chuckled awkwardly, shaking your head.

“it’s okay. i wouldn’t remember me either,” he said in a funny voice, making you giggle.

“you really don’t remember me?” he asked, looking at you like he couldn’t believe you, his arms crossed in front of him. 

“i’m sorry!” you giggled, putting your hands over your face playfully, trying to hide from him.

“middle school talent show,” he said and you took your hands off of your face, listening to him intently. “you were doing the cheer thing that you do? which was kinda cool, actually.”

he made a high v and diagonal motion, though it was really bad and made you chuckle. suddenly it hits you, the memory of that day, and you gasp in realization. 

“oh my god, yes! you were with uhh, your band…uhh,” you snapped your fingers several times, hoping it would come to you. “corroded coffin!!” 

“yes!” he punched the air excitedly, clapping. “you do remember!”

“jesus,” you laughed, beaming as you looked over at him. “i shared my french fries with you that day! how could i forget?”

it all came to you — sitting next to eddie backstage before your performance, striking up casual conversation with him that turned into the two of you giggling uncontrollably, sharing the french fries that came with the burger meal your father had brought you.

“i dunno, maybe i wasn’t as memorable to you as i hoped i’d be,” he admitted, chewing the corner of his lip, brown eyes still trained on you.

he had the tiniest crush on you back then, though it was extremely short lived once he realized that day at the talent show was all it would ever be between the two of you. you had your circle, he had his — your worlds were never meant to collide.

“no, it’s just you looked soo..diff—.”

“different? yeah,” he chuckled. “well, my hair was buzzed and i didn’t have these sweet ol’ tatties yet.”

giggling, you glanced at where eddie had pulled down the front of his shirt, noticing the black ink barely poking out, a stark contrast against his creamy skin.

“you played guitar, right?”

“yup,” he nodded, beaming with pride. “still do.”

“i remember thinking you were pretty good,” you admitted, the memory of watching him play with his band from the side of the stage flashing in your mind.

eddie’s smile grew. that same feeling he had all those years ago, when you first sat next to him backstage at the middle school talent show, came crashing back to him like a tidal wave.

“uh, so, in other good news, flattery works with me, so…twenty-five percent discount for the half,” he said as he flipped open the black metal box and took the bag of weed out again. “fifteen bucks. you’re robbing me blind here, ya know.”

“oh god, eddie, no,” you shook your head. “no, you don’t have to do that.”

“really! it’s no biggie,” eddie insisted, reaching over the middle console to hand the bag to you.

“no!” you giggled, pulling the twenty dollar bill tucked away in the back pocket of your jeans. “i’m not gonna cut you short.”

before he could protest, you took the bag and slipped the twenty into his hand as fast as you could, tugging your bottom lip between your teeth.

he playfully rolled his eyes, but accepted your offer nonetheless. you stuffed the weed into the front part of your backpack, making sure it was safe and secure. when you finished, you turned to look at him.

“thanks, eddie,” you smiled gratefully.

“anytime,” he replied with a genuine smile.

your gaze lingered a moment longer before opening the door to leave. you hopped out first, wincing as the bitter cold hit you like a ton of bricks, then, grabbed your backpack. 

“wait!” eddie called out, effectively halting your movements.

you looked at him curiously with a tilt of your head, wondering what else he could have forgotten to tell you.

“you should come see my band play,” he rushed, brows pinched together before softening his expression. “we play at the hideout every tuesday.”

a smile tugged at the corner of your lips, but you tried to hide it. “it’s not a sleazy bar, is it?”

“i mean, it’s not the garden, but you gotta start somewhere,” he chuckled, resting his arm on the middle console as he leaned over. “we usually get a crowd of about fiiiive drunks.”

you laughed, shying away from his gaze for a moment before flitting your eyes back to him. “what time?”

“eight o’clock,” he answered. he didn’t know why he was so nervous about asking you, or why his palms started to sweat whenever you took a while to answer.

Now all he had to do was build up the courage to call you.

Invite you on a date, or that aforementioned study session that you'd offered. Something, anything. Mainly, all he wanted to do was talk to you some more; how many times had he stared at the television, wishing just for that? Now he had the opportunity and he was afraid of picking up the phone.

“Just do it, don’t be a chicken.” He shook out his limbs and muttered to himself. “Just pick up the phone and call. She’s not gonna answer. Just leave a message. How bad could it be?”

He grabbed the receiver and dialed.

His heart rattled in his chest with every ring.

Leave a message after the beep.

He took a breath just as it sounded and he started talking.

“Hey, sweetheart, thanks for your number. I, uh, figured maybe if you were free on Thursday night you could come over and we could hang out. I’ll grab some soda’s, and maybe we order pizza? I'll even take up that offer for you to help with my history homework? We can listen to some music too? I dunno. Or…or whatever you wanna do. It’s fine by me. Anyways, just lemme know. I’ll see you around.”

He slammed the receiver on the cradle and then winced. It sounded terrible. It was one long breath, he was barely able to talk by the end of it. And, shit, had he even said his name? Or left a number?

“Fuck,” he groaned.

No, it was gonna be ok. Who else would call? Obviously you would know it was him.

...But what if you didn’t?

He grabbed the receiver and dialed again.

Leave a message after the beep.

He took it easier this time, slower. “Hey, sorry, I realized I didn’t even tell you who I was. Or leave my number, in case you wanted to call back. Guess I was nervous.” He laughed lightly. “Is that embarrassing to admit? That you make me nervous? God, I’m fumbling this again, aren’t I? I guess…I dunno, you’re the most interesting person who’s rolled into town in a while. Wanna make a good impression. Anyway, uh, talk to you later.”

He hung up again, a satisfied smile on his lips.

And then he realized he’d done it again.

“DAMN IT, MUNSON!”

Third time’s a charm.

“Pick up the phone, dial, leave your name and number, hang up,” he said through gritted teeth.

Leave a message after the beep.

“It’s Eddie Munson!” He shouted into the receiver, then recited his number. And hung up.

Simple.

Until he realized he sounded like an absolute nut..

“Fuck!”

Leave a message after the beep.

"Sorry that must make me sound insane. It's Eddie Munson, and if you wanna call me back, that's cool. Or you don't have to, that's cool too. If you want nothing to do with me. Maybe...maybe you should just stay away from me. You know, you'd probably be better off."

He slammed his hand against the hook switch and dialed again.

"What are you even doing anymore?!"

Leave a message after the beep.

“Hey it’s Eddie again, Eddie Munson. Sorry. I realize I’m really fucking this all up, and if you don’t wanna talk to me ever again you don’t have to. Shit, except I don't really mean that and could you possibly find it in your heart to not think I’m insane.”

There was a knock on the front door of the trailer and he groaned. He put the receiver between his shoulder and his head and yanked the cord so it would stretch as he went to see who it was.

“I’m just trying to leave a nice message and I keep messing it up and now I’m getting interrupted. Fuck! Can’t a guy just have a telephone call in peace?!”

He shouted the last bit and threw the door open, only to go slack jawed when he saw you standing there. Your lips were pressed together, as you clearly tried to hold back your laughter.

Eddie took the receiver and threw it back towards the transmitter, wincing as he heard a crash.

“Uh, hey, sweetheart,” he greeted with as much nonchalance as he could muster. “What’s...uh...up?” He shot double finger guns your way, and then winced and crossed his arms over his chest.

“You wanna hang out on Thursday?” You asked, biting your lip to keep your smile controlled.

“Sure,” he nodded.

“Great!” You leaned forward and said the next bit sotto voce. "See how easy that is?"

He sighed and leaned against the doorjamb. “So you heard all of that.”

“Absolutely.”

“Sat there and just let me keep calling?”

“Well, I would’ve just picked up but…” You shrugged. “I don’t have a TV yet. A girl needs to find entertainment where she can.”

Monday Morning, the sun streams through your curtains, breaking the dawn of a new day.

Eddie was going to be coming back from Steve’s wedding today and after the late night text he’d sent you in the dusky late hours of last night it was safe to say that you were anticipating things between the two of you to be awkward to say the least. 

You had a the suspicion that that text was nothing more than his drunken conscience making the decisions that sober eddie would surely regret come the morning, but it would be an absolute lie if you told yourself that the thought of him thinking about you, even in his presumed state of tipsiness, didn’t make your heart race.

Because it did. Your heart skipped beats, all because your cute, kind and caring neighbour with the devastatingly alluring brown eyes had thought of you.

Your final check on Pepper this morning had gone smoothly enough, she ate her food and leaned into your affectionate cuddles whilst you gave Eddie’s place a quick check to see that everything was in place before he came back later today.

It had just turned one in the afternoon as you loaded your laundry into the washing machine, when you received a knock at the door. Kicking the washing machine door shut with your foot and pressing the button to whir it into life you make your way over to your front door.

You quickly glance your eye through the peephole in your door and you’re met with a fishbowl lens look at Eddie, his fluffy curls somehow seem even bigger in this view.  He’s tucked his hands behind his back, and rocking back and forth on his heels slightly as he waits on you to unlock the door, and maybe some fantasist part of your brain is imagining it, but he almost looks a little bit excited, like he’d been keen to see you again, but surely, your brain was just teaming up with your heart to play tricks on you.

Sliding your locks open you let him in, bracing yourself with what you hope is a welcoming smile, and not the awkward one that it feels like as it stretches across your lips.

“Hey, Eddie.”

“Hey, yourself, thanks again for looking after Pepper.”

“Honestly it was no problem, she was a sweetheart, you probably want your keys back, right?” you nod. “Come on in, I’ll go get them for you.”

Eddie steps through the threshold of your apartment, his eyes going everywhere immediately. The layout of your respective apartments are virtually the same, but with the way you’ve decorated it, everything feels lighter, fresher, and brighter. The warm afternoon breeze blowing in through the open window, breathes life into the room.

The walls are painted in a soft pink, with various little posters and artworks on the wall. A plush deep green two seater couch sits in the middle of the room with a low rise glass coffee table separating it from the wall mounted television. There’s books stacked into a tall bookshelf, and Eddie tries his hardest to read the titles of the books if only just to see what kind of things you’re into.

There aren’t many books he recognises, but the standout thing he certainly does recognise however, is the three volumes of The Lord of The Rings, each one tucked next to the other in a neat little boxset cover. 

He too was a fiend for the high fantasy adventure series, and knowing

“You’ve read Tolkien?” Eddie asks, his fingers gently grazing over the spines of the books, tracing the gold embossed words of the familiar titles.

“Yeah, I will admit it took me a while, but I loved them! The films are good, don’t get me wrong, but they can only cover so much, you know?” you say as you waltz back into the room, Eddie’s keyrings jangling in between your fingers as you hand them over.

“I know right?” Eddie laughs heartily. “Like where the hell was Tom Bombadil? He’s like one of the most important characters and they just completely left him out of the movies!”

“Oh my god yes!” you laugh in agreement with him. “And don’t even get me started on the fact that they totally cut the bit where Saruman and his thugs take over the Shire! It’s like one of the most important points of the hobbits' development in the story.”

The laughter dies down, and in its place an awkward silence fills the air. Neither one of you wants to bring up the obvious elephant in the room of the late night text, but the fact that both of you know about it hangs around like an unwanted presence all the same.

It’s Eddie who braves the first step, breathing out a sigh before speaking 

“Listen, about that text, I totally didn’t mean-”

“I get it.” you say, quick to cut him off in his tracks. There’s no point in beating around the bush, it’s better to just rip the band-aid off. Quickly. “I know a drunk text when I see one, Eddie.” you say letting a kind, graceful smile pull across your face. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

“Well I just wanted to apologise all the same, the last thing I want to do is come across as some kind of creep. Especially when it comes to you.”

You try your very best not to dwell too much on what he means by ‘especially when it comes to you.’

“Don’t worry Eddie,” you smile. “It actually made me laugh to receive your text, drunken typos included. God know it’s been a while since I’ve had anyone send me such a sweet message like that”

Moving into this apartment had been the beginning of a fresh chapter in your life. The same old tired story, some dumb girl who thought she had her whole life figured out, and had been too blinded by love to realise she had been sharing her supposedly loyal boyfriend with the woman in his office. 

So many nights of ‘Sorry baby, the company needs me to stay late to close this deal’ but then would slyly sink next to you in between the sheets smelling of some unfamiliarly sweet perfume. It got to a point where you had to admit to yourself that you were simply ignoring the biggest red flag known to man, all in order to live a happy life.

But the thing is, you weren’t happy. You hadn’t been happy in a long time.

That night, as you lay in bed, you plotted the next step in your life.

You waited for him to slither off to work whilst you and your best friend packed up all your belongings. Leaving him with nothing but a less than charming note telling him exactly how you feel.

“I find that hard to believe. A girl like you should be drowning in messages”  Eddie chuckles. “I mean, your ex had to be some kind of special idiot to look elsewhere when he had you in front of him this whole time.”

“That’s very sweet of you to say, Eddie,” you blushed.” But, you’d be surprised how bad the dating scene is out there.” you scoffed with an airy laugh.

“I’ve been out of the game for so long, I wouldn’t even know where to begin” he says earnestly, raking a big tattooed hand through his dark spiral curls, and damn if that doesn’t make your heart skip a beat.

“I actually tried the whole online dating thing for a little while, y’know put myself back out on the scene, but after one too many bad dates you start to lose hope.”

Eddie’s soft brown eyes never move from you as you speak. His gaze would be intimidating, and you supposed in some ways it was, but it was intimidating in a way that felt exciting, but more than that there’s a kindness in those deep chocolate brown eyes that makes you feel safe.

“You can’t just say ‘bad bates’ and leave me hanging, you gotta give me the juicy details.”

“No, no, come on, you don’t want to hear my horror stories.” You laugh. Part of you is a little nervous of scaring him off, not that you’re anything but neighbours to each other, but you can’t help but want to hope for more between you two.

“Look, I work behind a bar, so I’ve had front row seats to a fair share of bad dates, so c’mon, give me your worst, I wanna hear it.” He says, opening his arms up for you, waiting for you to command the stage with your story.

“Okay, but you have to promise me that you won’t laugh.” you preface, before launching into your most embarrassing, worst first date story. “So, I matched with this guy, and I thought he was pretty cute and we chatted and everything was going really well, so we agreed to meet up. There I am, sitting at this coffee shop waiting for my date to turn up and then all of a sudden this old man sits down opposite me, he had to be in mid seventies maybe, and then, of course, I’m thinking  he must be lost or something, but then he says my name like he knows me, and then it dawns on me that I’ve been catfished.”

“Wait, What?” Eddie gasps. “You’d been talking to this old man the whole time and you had no idea? But quickly that look of shock on Eddie’s face turns into an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his pink lips.

“Hey! You promised you wouldn’t laugh!” you plead, but Eddie’s cheeky smile starts to break down your walls, and gets you to crack a smile of your own.

“I think you’ll find I made no such promise.” he says, crossing his arms, puffing up his broad chest.

“It gets worse too”

“I really don’t see how it can get any worse. Oh no, don’t tell me he was married.” Eddie grills, taunting you to see where this story was going to go.

“I almost wish that were the case. No, he was using pictures of his grandson and was claiming that it was him. I didn’t stick around after that.”

“God, that is pretty rough.”

“What about you, come on, you got to hear my worst date story, you’ve gotta give me something to work with.” you try to prompt Eddie, fair was only fair, you’d bore your most embarrassing story, it was only right that you got to hear something from him as compensation.

Eddie sighed a little, almost like he was heavily considering even daring to tell this story to begin with.

“I’m not hearing anything embarrassing..” you tease.

“Okay, so it’s not a first date story like yours, but this is the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me. I was a fair bit younger when this happened, so I was full of stupid ideas back then. I’d been working behind the bar at the dungeon for a few months at this point and things were going well, except one weekend when I overhear my manager mention that one of the bands that had been booked to play in the evening had pulled out and now they didn’t have anyone to fill the slot for Saturday, so naturally I piped up and said that me and my band could do it, and my manager didn’t question it.”

“I’m getting there.” Eddie laughs softly. “Anyway, cut to the night of the show, and the boys and I are getting ready to go on, and it’s way more people than we’ve ever played to before, so I start to get a bit nervous and knock back a couple of shots of liquid courage”

Oh no, this didn’t sound like it was going to end well.

“So I’m more than a little drunk, I’m slurring words when I’m singing, my guitar playing is all off, my bassist Gareth is scowling at me and it’s just going awful.”

“So that’s your most embarrassing story?” you ask

“Oh no, it gets worse don’t worry. So, the whole show is a mess and in my drunken mind the only thing I can think of to save it is to do a stage dive. I position myself at the edge of the stage and just jump. To cut a long story short, it wasn’t as cool as I pictured it in my head, and ended my night in the emergency room to fix my broken nose and get stitches in my forehead.”

“Oof, and I thought my story was bad, at least I didn’t end my night in a trip to the ER”  

You can’t help but laugh a little at Eddie’s expense, and your bright smile and adorable laugh might just be the cutest thing Eddie’s ever seen. The way your eyes crinkle, and how your nose scrunches, and all because of something he said. There’s a part of him that wants to make a fool of himself, just so he’s rewarded with the sight of your beautiful smile.

He takes his hand and brushes back his dark, frizzy bangs to show you where there’s a small and pale scar hidden in between the few creased wrinkles in his forehead.

“I got this sweet little scar right here as a remind me to never try stage diving ever again”

“Well at least you’re not young and stupid anymore”  you laugh softly.

“Well, I’m not young anymore that’s for sure, still working on the stupid part.” he says with a chuckle. “Anyway, sorry for bothering you, I just wanted to drop by to say thank you for looking after Pepper and my apartment while I was away.”

“You’re not bothering me, it was no problem, she was an angel.”

There’s a beat of a moment. A breath of silence with neither of you quite sure of what to say next. It wasn’t that the silence was awkward, no, what was strange was however, was how comfortable you both felt in the other’s presence.

“Well, I best get going now, but thank you again.” Eddie says, as he rocks back on his heels, swinging his keering around on his finger, almost like he’s nervous or something.

“It was nice seeing you Eddie.” For a brief moment your body automatically thinks about going in for a hug, but your brain works faster and pulls your body back before you can make an awkward scene. 

You walk with him to your apartment door, waving him across the small corridor that separates your two apartments.

“Don’t forget” you call out to him just as he’s about to turn into his own place “ I’m just across the hall if you ever need anything else!”

He gives you a silent nod and two finger salute,  a cheeky smile pulling at his pink lips as he disappears behind his door.

You slip back into your apartment, closing the door behind you. Your hands drag down your face with an embarrassed huff of breath leaving your lips as you thunk your head back against the door. Why did he make you act so stupid?

You hadn’t seen Eddie for a few days, reasoning that your daytime hours are conflicting with his night shifts, and you’re thankful for that actually. Thankful to have a little breather away from whatever hold he seems to have over you and your heart. A chance to level with your feelings about the cute bartender who lives across from you.

You roll out of bed, and take advantage of the day off you have to explore the city a little bit. 

With breakfast eaten and cleared away you change out of your pyjamas into a light and breezy outfit, some denim cut off shorts and a striped linen shirt worn unbuttoned just enough, the open sides knotted around your waist. Finishing off your outfit with a few little pieces of jewellery and a spritz of perfume you grab your bag as you make your way out the door and into the streets.

The sun shines on your face with a balmy heat, as you strut through the neighbourhood, tall apartment buildings with overflowing window boxes, the golden rays glinting off shiny cars parked on the sidewalk. 

You keep walking for a while, stopping into a cute little cafe and grabbing an iced coffee to keep you going.

You know what you’re looking for, and so when you turn the corner the exact building you’re looking for comes into your line of sight. 

Bits & Pots Pottery Studio

You’d made it a point to visit Robin’s studio ever since Eddie gifted that cute mug from her shop.

As you push through the door you’re immediately met with the earthy scent of clay and paint.

There’s a counter in the front of the shop, staffed by a woman with fiery red hair twisted into two long braids that fall around to frame her pale, freckled face. She regards you with her sparkling blue eyes before speaking. She’s wearing a soft lilac apron with a name tag pinned on her chest, along with a few other colourful buttons. Vickie, the name tag reads.

“Hi, welcome to Bits & Pots Pottery Studio, how can I help you today?”

“Hi, I was wondering if I might be able to find Robin? I’m a friend of a friend.” you start out tentatively, because what were eddie and you to each other but friends and neighbours? The fact that you could potentially see something with him had nothing to do with it.

Just as Robin’s name left your lips the girl in question came bobbling in. A soft green, clay splattered apron, although there were suspiciously more bone white clay splotches on her hands, arms and dark brown overalls than there was on her apron.

“Speak of the devil.” Vickie mutters under her breath, before gleefully accepting a kiss on the cheek from Robin.

“You know you love me.” Robin teases back. “Anyway I heard my name..wait..I know you! You were that girl from the bar the other night..right?” 

“Yup that’s me” you nod.

“I’m sorry you had to meet me when I was sloppy drunk, that’s not usually how I like to make my first impressions”

“That’s why you were late in the studio on Monday? You told me you had a dentist appointment!" Vickie scoffs, having caught Robin in a lie.

“Look I was nursing a godzilla sized hangover, I wasn’t in any fit state to see or do anything, okay? Cut me some slack.” Robin defends against Vickie’s accusatory tone of voice. “Anyway, what can I do for you?” Robin asks as she turns her attention to you.

“I was hoping I could grab a chat with you if you’re not too busy?”

“Sure, come on in the back to the drying room, it’s a little more private there, so long as you don’t mind sitting amongst slowly drying clay.” Robin says with a charming little laugh, before calling out to VIckie over her shoulder to look after the front of the shop whilst she’s gone.

You follow in behind Robin to the drying room, where, sure enough, there are stacked shelves full of mugs, vases of different sizes and experimental sculptures that almost look like monsters from another dimension. The room is toasty, the sun gleaming in through the big glass windows turning this place into something akin to a pleasantly warm greenhouse.

“What did you want to talk to little old me about, huh?” Robin asks, as she pulls up her knees on one of the wooden benches. 

“Well, I kinda wanted to ask you something..something about Eddie?” you start carefully. Robin gives you a silent nod so you continue. “I was wondering if you knew anything about his girlfriend. I was looking after his cat, Pepper, while he was away for Steve’s wedding and I stumbled across a picture of him with this girl.”

“You like him don’t you?” Robin asks, although it’s not so much a question but more an assumption, and one she’d nailed down with pin-point accuracy.

A glowing flush works its way across your cheeks and it’s not just from the heat of the drying room either.

“...maybe…” you stutter out a little. “..but if he’s already got a girl I don’t want to make a fool of myself by flirting with him and have him turn me down, I mean we live opposite each other for crying out loud!”

“Hey hey, slow your roll cowgirl,” Robin hushes, quieting your spiraling emotions before they have time to turn into a full blown tornado. Then she sighs, shifting her tone  into something more serious. “Amber really left her mark on Eddie. The Eddie I knew was loud, brash, cocky, and god knows damn right annoying at times, but that was Eddie. By the time Amber was finished with him, it was like his spark had gone out. The thing that made Eddie, Eddie, was nowhere to be seen.”

You ponder Robin’s words for a moment, a wave of relief washes over you at the fact that you certainly wouldn’t be stepping on anyone’s toes by making a pass at Eddie, but then there’s a bigger concern growing inside you about what if you were pushing yourself on Eddie when he wasn’t even ready to open up to letting himself get another chance at happiness?

“Look, just talk to him, he’s not scary, he just needs someone to show him that there’s still some good people out there, y’know?” Robin smiles warmly, “Give him a chance, you might just be surprised."

You were sitting on the top step of the shallow end, legs stretched out. A red Solo cup rested on your knee. Across from you, Eddie floated on his back on one of those ridiculous floaties, arms spread wide, tattoos catching the light every time he breathed. Robin sat on the wide ledge near the diving board, knees tucked up, sipping whatever concoction Eddie had made her. Steve was right beside you on the edge, feet dangling in the water, a joint between his fingers and that loose, half-drunk smile he only wore when it was just the four of you.

Eddie sat up with a splash, water streaming down his face. “Okay, but hear me out — I’m telling you, if I can just get the timing right on the bridge, this song is gonna slap. It's dark. It's sexy. I had to write a badass song about surviving the apocalypse, right? Like I didn't get these fuckin' scars for nothing.”

Robin made a noise like she was choking on her own laughter. “Munson. You're insane.”

“Insane? Maybe. But,” Eddie said, pointing at her with the joint before passing it to you. “You know you'd do the same shit Buckley. Some of us are just more musically talented than others.”

Steve snorted, reaching over to steal the joint from your fingers after you took a hit. The smoke curled warm in your lungs, making everything feel a little softer around the edges. “Dude, you survived one apocalypse. Try surviving four. Plus Buckley is great with music. Don't shit on her trombone talents.”

You laughed so hard you had to grab Steve’s arm to keep from sliding off the step. “Yeah Munson. That girls got good blowing skills. Don't shit on her.”

Eddie clutched his chest dramatically. “I would never shit on my dear Buckley. You know I love you. Maybe I could use some of your blowing skills on this song.”

“Blowing skills?” Robin echoed. “Christ Munson. If you want me to blow you, you're gonna be waiting a long ass time.”

Steve was laughing too hard to come up with a coherent thought. Eddie looked like he wanted to crawl into a hole. Steve just splashed water at Eddie with his foot and said, “You’re all lucky I let you live here. I could’ve had peace and quiet. Instead I get you three idiots bickering and someone— someone — keeps stealing my good towels and leaving them on the bathroom floor.”

Robin raised her hand. “That was me. They’re softer than mine. Sue me.”

You leaned back on your elbows, the water lapping gently at your waist. “Speaking of stealing… Eddie, you owe Steve like six pairs of socks at this point. I saw them in your room.”

Eddie looked down at his feet in the water like he’d been caught. “They’re comfortable. And Stevie already stretched them out so they're perfect.”

“It’s theft,” Steve said, but he was grinning, the kind of grin that crinkled his whole face. “You know what else is theft? The last of the good cereal. I bought that box of Lucky Charms yesterday. It was gone by breakfast. I’m looking at you, Buckley.”

Robin didn’t even try to deny it. “I have no regrets. You can’t leave name-brand cereal in a house with three other people and expect it to survive. That’s on you, Harrington.”

The joint made another slow circle. You took a hit, passed it to Robin, and felt that warm, floaty buzz settle deeper into your chest. Everything felt good — the way the pool lights made Eddie’s wet hair look almost black, the way Steve kept bumping his knee against yours like he didn’t even notice he was doing it, the way Robin’s sarcasm had gone soft around the edges tonight. With the four of you the conversations could change on a dime but everyone kept up. You all loved each other.

Eddie paddled closer, resting his arms on the edge near your legs. “You know what I still can’t believe? That time Steve tried to make lasagna for all of us and used sugar instead of salt in the sauce.”

Steve groaned and dropped his head back. “It was dark! The containers looked the same!”

“It tasted like someone murdered an Italian grandmother,” Robin said solemnly. “I still have trauma. I had to wash it down with three beers just to be polite.”

You grinned at Steve. “And then you tried to fix it by adding more cheese and it just became… cheese soup with noodles.”

Steve pointed at you, mock-offended. “You ate three bowls. Don’t act like you weren’t into it.”

“I was high,” you said. “Everything tastes good when you’re high. That doesn’t make it good.”

Eddie cackled and flicked water at Steve. “She’s got you there, Harrington. Face it — you’re a menace in the kitchen. But we keep you around for the pool and the hair care products. Your shampoo collection is the only thing keeping this house from falling into complete chaos.”

Steve ran a hand through his wet hair on instinct. “It’s a routine you heathens. You wouldn’t understand. Some of us like to look like we didn’t just crawl out of a hedge.”

Robin leaned over and ruffled his hair on purpose, making it stick up in every direction. “There. Now you look like the rest of us. Welcome to the hedge club.”

Steve swatted at her hand but he was laughing again, that easy, bright sound that always made the night feel safer. The four of you drifted like that for a while — splashing each other lazily, trading stories about the ridiculous little disasters of living together, the past year. It's become something you never wanted to let go of. Your safe space in the chaos of the world.

Your skin was starting to prune. The high had turned everything warm around the edges. You felt loose and happy and stupidly fond of all of them.

Robin was the one who finally called it. “Alright, my fingers look like raisins and I’m pretty sure if I don’t eat something solid soon I’m going to start chewing on the pool noodles. Inside. Now.”

You pulled yourself up onto the edge, water streaming down your legs and bathing suit. Robin tossed you a towel. It smelled like Steve’s detergent — clean and expensive and somehow like home now. You wrapped it around yourself, goosebumps rising as the night air hit your wet skin.

Steve stood up, a little wobbly, towel slung around his neck. “Yeah… couch is calling my name. Just for a second. I’m good. I’m great. Not way drunker than I thought I was sitting down.”

Eddie climbed out after him, shaking his head like a dog and sending water flying. “Harrington, if you faceplant I’m not carrying you. You're gonna have to be an outside dog from now on.”

Steve waved him off, already heading for the sliding glass doors. “Yeah, yeah. Is the world spinning for anyone else?”

Inside, the house was dim and quiet. Steve made it three steps into the living room before the big sectional couch pulled him in like gravity. He dropped onto it with a heavy thump, one arm dangling off the edge, eyes already half-closed.

“Just… resting my eyes,” he mumbled. “You guys keep… having fun. I’ll be right…”

His eyes fluttered once. Twice.

And then he was gone — out cold, soft snores starting almost immediately, completely dead to the world.

Robin stared at him for a beat, then pressed both hands over her mouth to smother her laughter. “Oh my god. He didn’t even finish the sentence.”

Eddie leaned in the doorway in his low-slung towel, grinning wide. "Such a lightweight. Look at him. King Steve, defeated by vodka and like two joints.”

You stood there in your damp towel, water still dripping from your hair onto your shoulders, and felt that same warm, bright feeling from earlier swell in your chest. Steve, safe and passed out. Eddie watching you with that spark in his eyes. Robin already heading toward the kitchen with a mischievous little bounce in her step.

“Well,” Robin called over her shoulder, “since our fearless leader has officially tapped out… who wants to see if there’s any pasta left in the fridge? Or are we going straight for the liquor cabinet?”

Eddie looked at you, one eyebrow raised, smile slow and easy.

The three of you left Steve snoring softly on the couch and drifted into the dining room like it was the most natural thing in the world. The big wooden table still had a couple of chairs pulled out from earlier in the week when you’d all tried to eat a real meal together. Robin grabbed a fresh beer from the fridge and dropped into one of the chairs, kicking her feet up on the one next to her. You and Eddie stayed standing for a second, the wet ends of your hair still dripping onto your shoulders and the tops of your towels.

Eddie dug another joint out of the crumpled pack he’d left on the counter earlier and lit it with a flick of his lighter. The flame lit up his face for a second — sharp grin, dark eyes, water still clinging to his collarbones. He took a long pull, then passed it to you without a word. You leaned against the edge of the table and took your own hit, the smoke curling warm and familiar in your lungs. The high from the pool hadn’t fully faded yet— this one just layered on top of it, making the dim overhead light feel softer and the air between the three of you feel closer.

Robin twisted the cap off her beer and took a long drink. “God, work’s been so fucking weird lately. Jimmy's gone so it's just been me and Harrington running the show. Who decided that putting us in charge was a good idea? Dingus over there wouldn't know good music if it weren’t for us. He'd be playing ABBA all day and wonder why we'd get hate mail.”

You laughed, the sound a little looser than usual. “That sounds exactly like him. Just be glad you're not working under Keith anymore. Dude was a total fuckin' creep. Remember that time he tried to hit on Nancy and she brutally destroyed every bit of confidence he had left?”

Eddie chuckled from where he was leaning against the wall, joint between his fingers again. He wasn’t saying much — just chilling, listening, that lazy little smirk on his face like he was happy to let the two of you talk while the smoke curled around him. Every now and then he’d take a hit and pass it back to you, his fingers brushing yours for a second longer than necessary.

Robin groaned and took another sip. “And don’t even get me started on my mom. She keeps asking when I’m gonna ‘bring a nice boy around’ like I haven’t been gay as fuck my whole life. I told her I’m busy surviving the apocalypse and working, but apparently that’s not a good enough excuse.”

You took the joint from Eddie again, the paper warm against your lips. The high was settling deep now — that sweet, heavy feeling behind your eyes that made everything feel a little more honest. You exhaled slowly and looked at Robin across the table.

“Honestly? You’re lucky you don’t have to deal with any of that shit,” you said, the words slipping out before you could overthink them. “The last guy I was with was… god, he was bad. Like, aggressively bad. All confidence, zero skill. Kept asking if I was close. I had to fake it just to get him to stop. And then he had the nerve to look proud of himself after.” You shook your head, laughing a little even though it wasn’t really funny. “You’re seriously so lucky you don’t have to deal with that mess, Robin.”

Robin raised an eyebrow, but she was smiling — the kind of smile that said she knew exactly what you meant and was grateful she didn’t. “Yeah, well. That’s one bullet I’ve managed to dodge.”

You took another slow hit from the joint, then passed it back to Eddie. The question came out casual, curious, the kind of thing that only got asked when everyone was a little drunk and a little high and the house was quiet except for Steve’s distant snoring.

“Have you ever actually had sex with a guy?”

Robin made a face but didn’t look offended. She just shook her head. “Nope. Never.”

You tilted your head, genuinely curious now. “What about kissing? Have you ever kissed a guy?”

She snorted. “Yeah, duh. Had to pretend to be straight at some point, right? High school was a whole thing. There was this one guy who wouldn’t leave me alone until I let him kiss me at a party. It was… fine. Wet. Weird. I spent the whole time thinking about how I’d rather be anywhere else.” She shrugged, taking another drink. “But it got the job done. People stopped asking questions for a while.”

The room felt smaller suddenly. Warmer. Eddie was still quiet, but you could feel him listening — that sharp, attentive energy he got when something interesting was happening. He took a hit from the joint and held it, watching the two of you with dark, amused eyes.

You leaned forward a little, elbows on the table, the high making your voice come out softer and more honest than usual.

“Okay, but… if you had to have sex with a guy,” you asked, “who would it be?”

Robin didn’t even hesitate. She looked you dead in the eye, a little smirk tugging at her mouth, cheeks faintly pink from the beer and the conversation.

“Well, I only trust two guys,” she said. “And since Harrington’s passed out cold in the other room, I guess Munson would do.”

The words landed in the quiet dining room like a spark on dry wood.

Eddie let out a low, surprised laugh — not mocking, just genuinely caught off guard. Smoke curled from between his lips as he exhaled. “Wow. High praise, Buckley. I’m flattered. Truly. I’ll try not to let it go to my head.”

You felt your own pulse pick up a little, the high sharpening everything — the way Robin was looking at you both, the way Eddie’s grin had gone a shade more dangerous, the distant sound of Steve’s soft snoring from the living room like he was still somehow part of this even while he was dead asleep.

Robin just shrugged, but there was something playful and a little charged in the way she held your gaze. “I’m just saying. If the world ended tomorrow and I had to pick… at least I know he might not be a complete disaster about it.”

Eddie took another slow hit from the joint, then held it out toward her like an offering, his voice low and teasing. “Careful, Buckley. Keep talking like that and I might start thinking you actually like me.”

Robin rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she reached for the joint. “Don’t get cocky, Munson. It’s a hypothetical. And you’re the lesser of two evils right now.”

The air in the dining room had shifted — still light, still a little giggly from the drinks and the weed, but underneath it something warmer was humming. Something that felt like it could tip in any direction depending on what happened next.

Eddie’s eyes flicked to you for a second, like he was checking to see how you were taking all of this. His smile was easy, but there was a spark in it that hadn’t been there before.

The words hung in the air for half a second.

Robin’s answer — casual, a little smirk on her face, eyes flicking between you and Eddie like she was testing the temperature of the room. Steve’s soft snoring drifted in from the living room like background noise.

You looked at Robin.

She looked at you.

And there it was — that look. The one the two of you had perfected over the last year of living in this house together. The we’re about to do something really fucking stupid and we both know it look. Half challenge, half invitation. Your mouth twitched. Hers did too.

Eddie blinked between the two of you, brow furrowing. “Okay… what the hell is happening right now? Seriously. You two are doing that thing again. The creepy telepathic eye contact thing. I don’t like it when you do the creepy telepathic eye contact thing—”

Robin was already sliding out of her chair.

You met her halfway.

The second your mouths crashed together it was heavy. No hesitation. No testing the waters. Just the sudden, hungry press of her lips against yours, the sharp little inhale she took when your hands found her waist and pulled her in. She tasted like beer and the faint cherry of her lip balm and the weed you’d all been passing around. Her hands were in your damp hair immediately, tugging, angling your head so she could kiss you deeper, messier. The high made everything sharper and blurrier at the same time — the slide of her tongue against yours, the way her body pressed flush to you, the little sound she made in the back of her throat when your teeth caught her bottom lip.

You barely registered the dining room table behind you until your ass hit the edge of it. Robin followed, crowding between your legs, one hand braced on the wood beside your hip while the other slid up under the edge of your towel, palm hot against your still-damp skin.

Eddie made a noise like he’d been punched in the stomach.

“What the fuck,” he said, voice cracking in the middle. “What the hell is happening seriously. Is this— are you two— Jesus Christ, I’m right here. I’m standing right here. Harrington’s passed out in the next room and you two are just— okay. Alright. This is fine. This is totally fine. I’m not freaking out. I’m not freaking out—”

You broke the kiss just long enough to laugh against Robin’s mouth, breathless and giddy and a little wild from the high. She was laughing too, forehead pressed to yours for a second, both of you grinning like idiots who’d just decided to set something on fire for fun.

Then you turned your head, still half-tangled with her, and reached out.

Your fingers curled around Eddie’s wrist.

He looked down at your hand like it was a live wire.

“Come on,” you said, voice low and rough from the kissing and the smoke. You gave his arm a tug, already sliding off the table, Robin’s hand finding yours on the other side. “Bedroom. Now.”

Robin was still giggling as the three of you stumbled out of the dining room — her free hand grabbing the mostly-smoked joint and the lighter on the way past the table. Eddie let himself be dragged, half-protesting, half-laughing in that high-pitched, overwhelmed way he got when his brain was short-circuiting.

“I— you can’t just— what is happening right now,” he kept saying, even as he followed you down the hallway toward his room. “I was minding my own business. I was being chill. And now I’m being kidnapped by two extremely hot, extremely high girls who were just making out on Steve’s dining room table like it was a normal day—”

“Shut up, Munson,” Robin managed between laughs, shoving his bedroom door open with her shoulder. “Consider this your lucky day.”

You were both still giggling as you pulled him inside — the sound bright and stupid and full of that reckless, drunk-high energy that always seemed to hit hardest at three in the morning. Eddie’s room smelled like him— weed, old leather, that cologne he stole from Steve and never gave back. Posters on the walls, clothes on the floor, his guitar propped in the corner like it was watching.

The door clicked shut behind you.

Robin was still pressed against your side, her mouth finding the curve of your neck for a second just because she could. You were still holding Eddie’s hand, thumb brushing over his knuckles like you were grounding all three of you in the moment.

Eddie stared at the two of you, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, that wild grin starting to break through the confusion.

“Okay,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “Okay. I’m listening. I’m extremely listening. Someone please tell me what the game plan is here before I have a heart attack in my own bedroom.”

You and Robin exchanged another look.

And then you were both laughing again — soft, breathless, already moving toward him like the night had always been headed exactly here.

Robin broke first, a soft, nervous giggle escaping as she looked at you. “Okay. So. We’re really doing this.”

You felt that same reckless, high-drunk spark from the dining room table flare hotter in your chest. You stepped in close to her, one hand sliding around her waist, and spoke low enough that it felt like a secret even though Eddie was right there.

“I’m gonna teach you how to give a blowjob.”

Eddie made a strangled noise from somewhere behind you. “I— what— teach—?”

Robin’s eyes flicked to him, then back to you. She looked a little dazed, a little turned on, a little like she couldn’t believe she was nodding. But she nodded anyway.

You turned to Eddie, who was still standing there looking like his brain had melted. His cock was already straining hard against the front of his swim trunks. You exchanged a silent look of permission with him, stepped right into his space, hooked your fingers into the waistband, and tugged them down in one smooth motion.

His cock sprang free — thick, ruddy tip, already leaking. Bigger than average. Heavy.

Robin’s eyes went wide. “Jesus Christ. Are they all that size?”

You wrapped your hand around the base and gave him one slow stroke, just to watch the way his stomach jumped. Then you glanced at Robin with a crooked little smile.

“Nope. I’m just as surprised as you are.”

Eddie let out a shaky laugh that turned into a groan the second you dropped to your knees in front of him. You didn’t waste time — you leaned in and took the head of his cock into your mouth, warm and wet, tongue swirling around the sensitive underside while your hand worked what you couldn’t fit yet. The taste of him, the weight of him on your tongue, the way his hand immediately found the back of your head like he didn’t know what else to do with it — it all hit harder because of the high. Everything felt magnified.

“Fuck— fuck—” Eddie’s voice cracked. He was staring down at you like you’d just personally rewritten the laws of physics. “Okay. Okay, this is happening. This is really— Jesus, your mouth—”

Robin watched, transfixed, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Her cheeks were flushed. After a minute she cleared her throat, voice a little hoarse.

“Can I… can I just start with a handjob? I don’t think I’m ready for the whole… mouth thing yet.”

You pulled off Eddie’s cock with a wet pop, lips shiny, and looked up at her. “Yeah. Come here.”

Robin knelt down beside you on the floor. She hesitated for only a second before wrapping her hand around him — tentative at first, like she was testing the heat and weight of him. Eddie made another broken sound above you both, hips twitching.

You covered her hand with yours.

“Here,” you murmured, guiding her. “Like this.”

You started slow — long, steady strokes from base to tip, your fingers curled over hers so she could feel exactly how much pressure to use. Eddie’s cock twitched hard in your combined grip, a bead of pre-cum welling at the slit. You used it to slick the way, dragging both your hands up and down in a smooth rhythm.

“See?” you said softly, close to her ear. “He seems to like it when you twist your wrist a little at the top. And you can use your other hand on his balls if you want — gentle, though.”

Eddie was losing his mind above you. One hand braced on the edge of his dresser, the other hovering like he didn’t know where to put it. His voice was wrecked.

“I— I don’t— what the fuck is my life right now— god, that feels— you two are actually going to kill me—”

Robin let out a shaky little laugh, but she didn’t let go. She was watching your hands move together over him, fascinated, biting her lip. The high made everything feel warmer, slower, more electric — the slide of skin on skin, the way Eddie’s cock pulsed between your fingers, the soft sound of his breathing breaking apart above you.

You kept guiding her, slow and patient, showing her how to stroke him just right while Eddie stood there completely at your mercy, confused and painfully, desperately horny, and very clearly not wanting any of it to stop.

The slow, guided strokes had Robin breathing a little harder. You could feel the shift in her — the way her grip got more confident under yours, the way she kept glancing at Eddie’s cock like she was daring herself.

Robin licked her lips.

Then she leaned in.

Her tongue dragged slowly up the underside of Eddie’s cock in one long, tentative stripe from base to tip. She made a soft, surprised sound at the taste and the heat of him, but she didn’t pull away. Instead she did it again, slower this time, like she was getting used to it.

You didn’t hesitate. You dipped your head right beside hers and followed.

The two of you worked him together — tongues sliding up the thick vein on the underside of his cock, getting him messy and wet. Saliva and pre-cum mixed as you licked over the same spots, sometimes your tongues brushing against each other in the process. Robin let out a shaky little laugh against his skin, and you answered it with one of your own before you both went back in, lapping at him like you were sharing something filthy and sweet at the same time.

Eddie made a sound like he’d been shot.

“F-fuck— fuck— you two— Jesus Christ—” His voice was wrecked, high and strained. One hand was white-knuckling the edge of the dresser so hard the wood creaked. The other hovered uselessly in the air like he was afraid to touch either of you in case he lost what little control he had left. His thighs were trembling. “I’m— I’m not gonna last if you keep— god, your tongues—”

You and Robin ignored the warning.

You met in the middle again, tongues curling against each other over the head of his cock before sliding back down together, coating him in shiny wetness. Then you were kissing — really kissing — right there on his dick. Mouths open, tongues sliding hot and slick against each other with the thick length of him caught between you. Every time your lips met you could taste him on her, and she could taste him on you. It was messy. It was obscene. It was so fucking hot you felt dizzy with it.

Eddie’s hips jerked forward without his permission. A broken, desperate noise tore out of his throat.

“I’m serious— I’m— fuck, I’m gonna come if you don’t stop— I’m trying— I’m trying so hard not to—” His voice cracked on a moan as your tongues met again over his slit, lapping up the fresh bead of pre-cum that had leaked out. “Please— Jesus, you’re both gonna kill me—”

Robin pulled back just enough to look up at him, lips shiny and swollen, a wicked little smile on her face even though her cheeks were flushed dark. She gave the head of his cock one more slow lick, then glanced at you like she was checking if you wanted to keep going.

Eddie looked like he was hanging on by a thread — eyes glassy, chest heaving, every muscle in his body locked tight as he fought not to come all over both your faces right then and there.

“Can I… watch you get fucked first?”

You were still on your knees, one hand loosely wrapped around the base of Eddie’s cock. You glanced up at her, a slow, wicked little smile spreading across your face.

“Only if you sit on my face.”

Robin’s eyes went wide for a second. Eddie made a noise like his brain had short-circuited again.

You didn’t wait for more discussion. You stood up, grabbed Eddie’s hand, and tugged him toward the bed with you. Robin followed, still looking a little stunned but not saying no. You crawled onto the mattress and laid back, legs spreading automatically as you looked up at both of them.

Eddie hovered at the side of the bed, swim trunks still around his thighs, cock flushed and shiny from both your mouths. He looked wrecked already — hair wild, eyes dark, chest heaving.

“Are you guys sure?” he asked, voice hoarse. “Like… we can stop at any point. This is— this is a lot. I don’t want anyone to—”

“Munson,” you cut in, staring straight at him, “if you don’t fuck me right now I’m going to be mad at you.” Your tone was light but firm. Then you turned your head toward Robin and patted the space above your face. “And Robin… come sit on my face.”

Robin hesitated. Her cheeks were flushed dark, one hand twisting in the hem of her swimsuit. She looked at Eddie, then at you, then back at Eddie like she was checking one last time that this was really okay. Eddie just gave her a helpless little shrug, like I have no idea what’s happening but I’m not stopping it.

She climbed onto the bed.

You helped guide her — hands on her hips as she swung one leg over your head and slowly lowered herself, pushing the gusset of her swimsuit to the side. The second her cunt brushed your mouth you licked up into her, slow and deliberate, and Robin made a soft, shocked sound above you, thighs trembling on either side of your head.

Eddie was still standing there like he couldn’t believe any of this was real.

You reached down between your own legs and peeled your bikini bottoms off. Y you looked at Eddie upside-down from between Robin’s thighs.

“Eddie.”

That was all it took.

He climbed onto the bed, shoved his trunks the rest of the way off, and lined himself up. The head of his cock dragged through your folds once, twice, collecting wetness, before he pushed in with one long, smooth thrust.

You moaned into Robin’s cunt.

Eddie groaned like he’d been punched. “Fuck— you’re so— god—”

He started fucking you in deep, steady strokes, hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave marks. Every time he bottomed out you cried out against Robin, the vibrations making her gasp and rock down harder onto your tongue. She was watching everything — the way Eddie’s cock disappeared into you over and over, the way your tits bounced with every thrust, the way your mouth worked between her legs.

Robin leaned forward.

Her fingers found your clit and started rubbing in tight, desperate little circles, matching the rhythm of Eddie’s thrusts. The added stimulation made your whole body jerk. You sucked harder on her clit, tongue flicking fast, and Robin’s thighs clamped around your head as she moaned.

Eddie was losing it.

He was trying so hard to hold back, but between the way you felt around him, the wet sounds of you eating Robin out, and the sight of her fingers working your clit right above where he was buried inside you — it was too much.

“Fuck— I’m— I’m close—” he gasped. “I can’t— you feel too good— Robin, if you keep— shit—”

Robin rubbed your clit faster, leaning down so she could watch Eddie’s cock splitting you open while your tongue fucked into her. The angle let her grind down harder on your face.

You came first.

It hit hard — a full-body, shaking orgasm that made your back arch off the bed and your moan get muffled against Robin’s cunt. Your walls clenched tight around Eddie’s cock, pulsing hard, and that was it for him.

Eddie came with a broken, guttural sound, hips stuttering as he buried himself as deep as he could and spilled inside you. Thick, hot pulses that you felt with every twitch of his cock. He kept fucking through it in short, desperate thrusts, like he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.

Robin followed right after — thighs shaking around your head as she came on your tongue with a soft, surprised cry, her fingers still moving on your oversensitive clit until the overstimulation made you whimper.

For a few long seconds the only sounds in the room were heavy breathing, the wet slide of Eddie slowly pulling out of you, and Robin’s shaky little laughs as she carefully climbed off your face.

Eddie collapsed onto the bed beside you, one arm thrown over his eyes, chest heaving.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, voice completely wrecked. “What the fuck just happened.”

Robin was still catching her breath, looking down at both of you with wide, dazed eyes and a stunned little smile.

You just lay there between them, flushed and satisfied and still buzzing from the high.

The three of you were still catching your breath, bodies loose and warm on Eddie’s bed. Robin was the first to move, pushing herself up onto her elbows. Her hair was a mess, lips still shiny from where you’d had your mouth on her. She looked down at Eddie, who was flat on his back with one arm thrown over his eyes, his cock soft and half-hard against his stomach, shiny with a mix of your wetness and his own cum.

“So like—” Robin started, voice a little hoarse, “when your dick works again… can I try?”

Eddie dropped his arm and turned his head to stare at her like she’d grown a second head.

“When my— what the hell are you talking about, Buckley?”

Robin sat up a little more, tilting her head as she studied him with open curiosity. “Y’know… like when it gets all hard again like before. I wanna try. For real this time.”

You snorted, still lying between them, one hand resting on your own stomach. “I know a way we can get him hard again.”

Eddie lifted his head, eyes wide. “Hello? I’m— I’m right here, you menaces!”

You and Robin glanced at each other.

“Should we?” you asked, already smiling.

Robin hummed, pretending to think about it. “Hmm. Think we should.”

Before Eddie could get another word out, you rolled toward Robin and kissed her.

It started slow — lazy, post-orgasm kisses, your mouths moving together soft and wet. But it didn’t stay soft for long. Robin made a quiet sound and leaned in harder, one hand coming up to cup your jaw as her tongue slid against yours. The kiss got deeper, messier, the two of you making out right there on the bed like Eddie wasn’t even there.

Eddie made a wounded noise from beside you.

“This isn’t fair,” he complained, voice rough. “I want a kiss. I’m the one who just— I participated! I did labor! I deserve— hey— hey—”

You broke away from Robin with a grin and turned to him instead.

The second your mouth met his, Eddie melted. He kissed you back desperately, one hand sliding into your hair as he licked into your mouth like he’d been starving for it. You could feel him starting to twitch against your thigh already.

Robin watched for a second, then leaned in and nudged you aside so she could kiss him next. Eddie made another broken sound as she kissed him — slower at first, exploratory, then deeper once she got the hang of it. His cock gave a visible twitch against his stomach, starting to fill out properly.

You took your turn again, kissing him slow and filthy while your hand drifted down to wrap loosely around the base of his cock, giving him one lazy stroke. He was getting harder by the second.

“Fuck— you two are evil,” he muttered when you finally let him breathe. His voice was already wrecked again. “I was trying to be good and recover and now I’m— god— I’m hard again. This is your fault. Both of you.”

Robin glanced down at his cock, now fully hard and flushed in your hand, and bit her lip.

She looked back up at you, eyes bright and a little nervous but determined.

“So… can I try now?”

Eddie sat up a little, running a hand through his messy hair. His cock was fully hard again, resting against his stomach as he looked at Robin with that same soft, slightly overwhelmed expression he’d had since the dining room.

“Hey,” he said, voice gentle even though he was still catching his breath from the kissing. “I’m serious. You can stop at any point. Like… any point. You say the word and we’re done, no questions asked.”

Robin rolled her eyes so hard it was almost impressive.

“I know, Jesus Christ,” she muttered. “You’ve said it like six times already. I’m not gonna shatter.”

Eddie held his hands up in surrender, but he was still watching her carefully. “Okay. Okay. Just… making sure.” He hesitated, then asked, “Do you want to do it missionary? Or, like… any position you’re comfortable with.”

Robin made a face like he’d suggested they do it in the middle of the grocery store.

“Fuck no,” she said immediately. “I’m too shy to even talk at you right now, let alone look at you while you’re fucking me.”

Eddie blinked, then let out a short, surprised laugh. “Reverse cowgirl it is, then.”

You helped shift things around on the bed, moving pillows and making space. Robin climbed over Eddie’s lap, facing away from him — toward you instead. Her hands braced on your thighs for balance as she hovered over him. Eddie wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, the other resting lightly on her hip as he lined himself up.

Robin took a shaky breath, then slowly started to sink down.

The second he bottomed out inside her, her eyes went wide. A sharp, punched-out sound left her throat. She froze there for a second, adjusting to the stretch, fingers digging into your legs.

Eddie’s hands tightened on her hips. “You okay?” he asked immediately, voice low and careful. “Robin? You good?”

She didn’t answer right away, just breathed through it.

“Robin?” he tried again, a little more worried. “Hey, talk to me. You okay?”

Robin finally turned her head just enough to glare at him over her shoulder.

“Shut the fuck up, Munson,” she gritted out. “I can feel you in my throat.”

Eddie let out a startled laugh, the sound bright and relieved all at once. “Jesus. Okay. Noted.” He gave her hips a gentle squeeze. “Just checking. You’re calling the shots here.”

Robin took another slow breath, then rolled her hips experimentally. A tiny, involuntary sound escaped her when she felt how deep he was. She glanced at you, something between overwhelmed and determined in her expression, like she was still processing the feeling of being this full.

Eddie was still grinning, even as he stayed perfectly still beneath her.

“Guess I’m just a human dildo tonight,” he joked, voice warm and teasing. “At your service.”

Robin let out a shaky little laugh despite herself, still adjusting, still getting used to the stretch of him inside her. She hadn’t started moving properly yet — just sitting there, breathing, getting her bearings while Eddie waited patiently underneath her and you stayed close in front of her.

You could feel the tension in Robin’s body — the way her thighs were trembling slightly where they bracketed Eddie’s hips, the way her breathing was still a little too careful. So you leaned in and kissed her again, slow and grounding, one hand sliding up to cup the back of her neck. She melted into it almost immediately, some of the rigidness easing out of her shoulders as she kissed you back.

When you pulled away, she turned her head just enough and said, voice a little rough, “Eddie… start moving.”

Eddie didn’t need to be told twice.

He started slow, rolling his hips up into her in careful, shallow thrusts. Robin’s breath hitched, her hands tightening on your thighs as she adjusted to the feeling of him moving inside her. You stayed close, one hand sliding down between her legs to rub her clit in slow, steady circles with your thumb — matching the rhythm Eddie was setting.

Robin let out a shaky moan against your mouth when you kissed her again.

You didn’t stay up there long.

You broke the kiss and lowered yourself further, settling between Eddie’s spread thighs. From this angle you had a perfect view of where they were joined — his cock glistening as it slid in and out of her. You leaned in and dragged your tongue slowly over Robin’s clit first, then lower, licking along the base of Eddie’s cock and his balls on the next pass.

Robin clenched hard around him the second your tongue touched her.

“Fuck—” she gasped, hips jerking.

Eddie groaned, his hands gripping her waist tighter. “Jesus Christ, what did you just do to her?”

Robin let out a breathless, slightly unhinged laugh even as she rolled her hips down to meet Eddie’s next thrust. “She’s— fuck— she’s licking both of us. I can feel her tongue on your— god.”

Eddie let out a shaky laugh of his own, still fucking up into her in those deep, steady strokes. “You're so fucking tight Buckley. Pretty sure I'm going to fall in love with one of you after this.”

Robin reached down blindly and grabbed a handful of your hair, not pushing or pulling, just holding on as you kept licking — slow, deliberate strokes over her clit and the parts of Eddie’s cock that weren’t buried inside her.

“Shut up,” she managed, voice breaking on a moan when you sucked gently on her clit. “You’re— it feels like you're fucking me with your arm. H- How the hell do you walk around all day with— fuck— with that in your pants? Where the hell— Jesus Christ— do- do you put it?”

Eddie grinned, even as his breathing got rougher. “Y'know Buckley. That might be the nicest thing you ever said to me.”

Robin let out another shaky laugh that turned into a moan when you licked a particularly sensitive spot. “I hate you. I hate both of you. This is— fuck— this is your fault.”

“Pretty sure it’s your fault for asking if you could try,” Eddie shot back, voice strained but still teasing as he fucked her a little harder. “I was being a gentleman. You’re the one who decided to use me as a human dildo for kicks.”

Robin’s only response was a broken moan and another tight clench around him as your tongue worked between them.

Eddie groaned, head dropping back against the pillows for a second. “Yeah. Okay. Keep doing that. Both of you. I’m not complaining.”

Robin was breathing hard now, caught between Eddie’s cock and your mouth, her body starting to move more instinctively with every thrust. She was still holding onto your hair like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

The room was filled with the wet sounds of sex, Eddie’s low groans, and Robin’s increasingly desperate little noises every time your tongue dragged over her clit or Eddie hit a spot that made her clench.

Robin was getting close — you could feel it in the way her thighs were starting to shake on either side of Eddie’s hips, the way her breathing had gone ragged and uneven. You kept your mouth on her, tongue working her clit in tight, focused strokes.

Eddie was clearly struggling. His grip on Robin’s hips had gone tight, and his thrusts were getting a little less controlled, a little more desperate.

Robin must have felt it too.

She turned her head just enough to glare at him over her shoulder, voice breathless but sharp.

“If you cum anywhere near me, Munson, I’m going to murder you. I’m serious. I will actually kill you.”

Eddie let out a strained, half-laugh, half-groan. “Noted. Loud and clear. No coming near the lesbian. Got it.”

You pulled your mouth off Robin’s clit just long enough to speak, voice low and a little hoarse from how long you’d had your face buried between them.

“I’ll take it,” you said, looking up at both of them. “Cum on me. Face, tits, wherever. I don’t care.”

Eddie made a broken sound at that, hips stuttering for a second before he forced himself back into rhythm.

You went right back to work on Robin — two fingers rubbing tight and fast right where she needed it. Eddie kept fucking her through it, deep and steady, even as he fought to hold himself back.

Robin’s whole body went tight.

“Fuck— fuck— I’m—” Her voice cracked as she came, clenching hard around Eddie’s cock in rhythmic pulses. Her thighs shook on either side of your head and she grabbed at your hair again, holding on as the orgasm rolled through her. A broken, gasping moan tore out of her throat as she rode it out on Eddie’s cock.

The second she started to come down, Eddie carefully lifted her off him with shaking hands. His cock slipped free, shiny and flushed dark, and he barely had time to stroke himself once before he was coming from between her legs.

Thick ropes painted across your face and chest — hot and messy, landing on your lips, your cheek, and streaking down over your tits. Eddie groaned loud and broken as he came, hips jerking with every pulse, one hand braced on Robin’s thigh while the other worked himself through it.

Robin was still catching her breath above you, looking down with wide, slightly dazed eyes as she watched Eddie finish all over you. She let out a soft, breathless little laugh.

“Holy shit.”

Eddie was still breathing hard, staring down at the mess he’d made on your skin like he couldn’t quite believe any of this had actually happened. His cock gave one last weak twitch in his hand before he let go, slumping back against the pillows.

Robin carefully climbed off him and flopped down beside you on the bed, still flushed and breathing heavy. She looked at the cum on your face and chest, then at Eddie, then back at you.

“…Okay,” she said, voice a little shaky but amused. “That was… a lot.”

Eddie let out a weak, exhausted laugh from where he was sprawled out, one arm thrown over his eyes.

“Yeah,” he muttered. “Yeah, it really fucking was.”

The three of you were sprawled across Eddie’s bed in a messy, sweaty pile. Robin was on her back beside you, one arm thrown over her eyes, still breathing hard. Eddie was half-sitting up against the headboard, looking thoroughly fucked-out and a little stunned. You were in the middle, cum cooling on your face and chest, the high still humming pleasantly under your skin.

Robin was the first one to break the silence.

“Wait—” she said, turning her head toward you and Eddie with genuine curiosity. “Is this what Steve’s is like? Has anyone here seen Harrington’s dick? Like… for science?”

Eddie let out a weak, disbelieving laugh, running a hand down his face.

“….Yeah, I don’t think you’re gonna be a lesbian anymore after this.”

Robin snorted, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him. “Nah. Still a lesbian. Have you seen how nice her tits are?” She gestured vaguely at your chest with one hand. “And she doesn’t have a dick that split me in half.”

Eddie clutched his chest dramatically, even as he was clearly fighting a grin. “Glad to know that I’m just an afterthought?”

You turned your head to look at him, still a little breathless, a lazy smile tugging at your mouth.

“If it makes you feel better… I’d have sex with you again.”

Eddie’s head snapped toward you so fast it was almost comical. His eyes lit up, that familiar cocky little smirk sliding back onto his face despite how wrecked he looked.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he drawled, voice low and teasing, “Is that an invitation?”

You let out a soft laugh, reaching over to wipe a bit of cum off your bottom lip with your thumb.

“It’s more of a standing reservation.”

Robin groaned and flopped back down, covering her face with both hands even as her shoulders shook with laughter.

“Oh my god. You two are actually disgusting. I can’t believe I let either of you near me.”

Eddie was still grinning at you, looking far too pleased with himself for someone who’d just been used as a human dildo and then immediately discarded in the rankings. He reached over and lazily dragged two fingers through the mess on your chest, smearing it a little before bringing his fingers to his own mouth and licking them clean with zero shame.

“Standing reservation,” he repeated, like he was tasting the words. “I like the sound of that.”

Robin peeked at him through her fingers. “You’re not allowed to do that Munson. It’s rude.”

“Rude is my brand, Buckley,” Eddie shot back, but his voice had gone softer, warmer. He glanced between the two of you, something fond and a little overwhelmed flickering across his face. “You two are gonna be the death of me. I hope you know that.”

You smiled, still loose and satisfied, and reached over to rest your hand on Robin’s thigh while your other hand found Eddie’s.

“Worth it though,” you murmured.

Robin didn’t answer right away. She just let out a long, dramatic sigh and turned her head to look at you, then at Eddie, then back at you again.