mar

Practice ended long ago. the pitch had emptied, the locker room gone quiet as everyone headed home. Armando rolled his shoulders with a tired sigh, his cleats clicking against the pavement. Armando had been halfway to the locker room, towel slung over one shoulder, gym bag hanging lazily from his shoulder. just before he reached the corner, the sharp sound of voices stopped him in his tracks. two people were arguing just around the corner.

he recognized one voice immediately, it was Brian’s. the other belonged to who he assumed was his girlfriend.

Armando had seen you around after practices plenty of times. sometimes you’d be waiting for Brian outside, other times Brian would bring you around the team. he didn’t know you beyond the occasional polite smile or small wave, but he’d always thought you seemed friendly.

which was why hearing the two of you arguing in such sharp, bitter tones made him freeze where he stood.

"this is why I don't talk to you. you go from here" your hand shot up "to here" your hand dropped at your side "in two seconds."

Armando frowned. he shouldn’t listen. he shifted his bag higher on his shoulder and took another step toward the locker room. then, Brian’s voice rose. "at any conversation of me not being with you, you react like this" Brian shot back, tone sharp but defensive "like I'm leaving you."

"I can't believe you're- these past weeks, you don't even want to be around me" you said stepping closer "you just pushed me aside, you ignored me."

he exhaled hard, eyes narrowing "I did not push you aside. you're just so fucking needy. It's like.. if I'm not with you every second of the day, it's a big deal. it's exhausting."

you blinked at him, stunned. needy... and exhausting. you weren't even sure if the heat in your face was from humiliation or from anger.

Armando’s grip tightened around the strap of his bag. every instinct told him to leave. this wasn’t his relationship. this wasn’t his place. but another part of him, the part that had a sister, that had watched friends stay in relationships that slowly ate away at them recognized the look he imagined on your face without even seeing it

"So that's what you really think of me."

Brian hesitated, clearly realizing too late his words, but you shook your head before he could say anything.

"No, don't take it back now. you meant it."

Armando’s jaw tightened. there was something uncomfortable about the conversation now. he stayed frozen where he stood, hidden by the brick corner separating the walkway from the locker room doors.

Brian’s jaw clenched, and he looked away for a second, breathing hard through his nose.

"Fine" he said. Brian let out one last exhale before turning away, his hand dragging through his hair as he disappeared toward the parking lot.

he left you standing alone in the hallway.

your throat tightened, your eyes glassy as you fought to keep yourself together. a shaky breath slipped past your lips before you let out a bitter, humorless laugh.

“Of course he left.” your voice cracked on the last word.

Armando stayed where he was long after Brian’s footsteps disappeared into the parking lot.

his first instinct was to walk away. Brian was his teammate. his closest friend, someone he trained beside every day. there was an unspoken rule. you didn’t insert yourself into another player’s relationship.

he could pretend he hadn’t heard anything.

pretend

Armando squeezed his eyes shut. his hands curled into fists at his sides.

he let the back of his head thunk against the wall with a dull thud, frustration washing over him.

he didn’t know you. you barely knew him. for all he knew, walking over would make things worse.

but another thought refused to leave him.

If that were my sister standing there…

the answer came immediately. he’d hope someone checked on her. even if it was just to make sure she wasn’t alone while crying.

Armando exhaled heavily through his nose. he pushed himself off the wall. slowly. giving you enough time to hear his footsteps before he appeared. he didn’t want to startle you.

the soft click of his cleats echoed through the empty hall. you looked up quickly. Armando stopped several feet away, careful not to invade your space.

Armando glanced toward the parking lot.

“Brian se fue.. ¿era el que te llevaba?”

you laughed once. it wasn’t really a laugh. “Se le olvidó.” the words came out so bitterly that they somehow hurt more.

“Él…” you swallowed. “se molesto.”

Armando didn’t respond. he knew anything he said about Brian right now would put you in an impossible position.

instead he asked quietly, “¿Tienes cómo irte a tu casa?”

you looked down at your phone. “Puedo pedir que pasen por mí.”

“¿te sientes bien esperando aquí tú sola?” Armando said carefully

you hesitated. “no..”

his jaw tightened almost subtly. “Puedo esperarme contigo.”

you immediately shook your head. “No, está bien. de verdad.”

“No me molesta.” a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Yo… ” he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “No estaba intentando escuchar.” he said suddenly.

you gave a tiny nod without looking at him. “Lo sé.”

“Es que… ” he searched for the right words. none of them felt right.

you stared at the floor. Armando hesitated.

he’d promised himself he wouldn’t say anything about Brian. that wasn’t his place. but after what he’d heard… staying completely silent felt just as wrong.

he let out a slow breath. “Brian no debió haberte dicho esas cosas.”

your head lifted slightly.

“se fue, sin motivo ni razón. ni siquiera se aseguró de que estuvieras bien.” his voice remained careful. “Y…” he rubbed the back of his neck, almost reconsidering the words. “Sé que no me debería meterme-“

he looked away for a moment. “También sé que la gente se equivoca.”

his gaze found yours again. “Todos nos equivocamos. una vez. dos.”

“Pero… ” he continued, “¿Cuántas veces puede alguien equivocarse antes de que deje de ser un accidente?”

your throat tightened. you couldn’t answer. he was simply asking a question that sounded as though he’d been asking himself ever since he’d overheard the argument.

your eyes began to sting again. he noticed. his expression softened.

then, almost under his breath, he said, “Es que no entiendo…” he paused, choosing his words carefully.

“¿Por qué tú vas a dar una segunda oportunidad cuando varios están esperando por la primera?”

you understood exactly what he meant. Armando was talking about the way you deserved to be treated.

the kindness, the patience, the respect. things that had become so rare in your relationship that hearing someone say them aloud almost hurt.

your vision blurred. before you could think better of it, you leaned into him like your body had finally admitted how exhausted it was.

Armando went completely still. his heart skipped. this was a bad idea.

he lifted one hand slowly. carefully. giving you every chance to move away. when you didn’t, he rested it gently between your shoulder blades.

another shaky breath escaped you. “Me siento tan poca cosa.”

“¿Por qué?”

“Por dejar que me vieras así.”

Armando frowned. “No tienes nada de qué sentirte mal.”

you let out a shaky laugh. “Ni me conoces.”

“No.” his answer was simple. “No te conozco.”

a small silence followed. Armando’s hand rested lightly against your back.

the hallway remained empty, the fluorescent lights humming overhead. outside, the last of the evening sun set, stretching long shadows across the concrete.

he could feel how tense you still were. how carefully you were trying to hold yourself together.

his hand shifted almost unconsciously, rubbing once between your shoulder blades in a slow, comforting motion.

Armando swallowed. this was already more than he should have been doing. he’d crossed the line the moment he’d chosen to stay. he knew it. he drew a slow breath.

“no cualquiera merece tu corazón. solo tienes uno.” he rested his chin lightly atop your head.

only after he’d done it did the reality sink in.

What am I doing?

his jaw tightened. this wasn’t right. Brian was his teammate. you were Brian’s girlfriend. but without thinking his arms tightened just enough to make the embrace feel secure.

“No dejes que alguien te haga creer que merece menos.” he said quietly.

you shut your eyes. no one had held you like this in what felt like forever.

your fingers slowly curled into the fabric of his training shirt. you hadn’t meant to. the realization came a second too late.

you should move. you knew you should. instead, you whispered, “Ya ni me acordaba de cómo se sentía esto.”

Armando’s chest ached. he didn’t ask what you meant. he already knew. he let out a slow breath, feeling your words settle somewhere he didn’t want them to.

when you finally shifted, it wasn’t to leave. you leaned back just enough to look up at him. your forehead nearly brushed his chin.

his eyes dropped instinctively. your lashes were still damp. there was a tiny crease between your brows, as though even now you were waiting for him to tell you this was somehow your fault.

instead, he just looked at you. you looked back. Armando realized, with a jolt, just how close your faces were. close enough to notice the tiny flecks of color in your eyes. close enough to feel the warmth of your breath.

his own breathing slowed. you didn’t step away. neither did he. his gaze flickered just for a second to your lips.

the movement was almost involuntary. the second he realized he’d done it, guilt hit him. he forced his eyes back to yours.

“Esto-” he started, then stopped. “probablemente no está ayudando mucho.” his voice had gone rough.

you searched his face.

“No. sí está ayudando.” you whispered

the honesty in your voice made something in his chest tighten. his thumb, still resting against your back, traced the smallest reassuring circle before he caught himself.

he froze. another line crossed. he shouldn’t be touching you like that. you noticed the hesitation.

“Te sigues deteniendo.” you said softly.

a faint, conflicted smile crossed his face. “Estoy intentando recordar de quién soy amigo… con quién estoy hablando..”

you remained there, close enough that one careless movement would erase the bit of distance between you.

Armando closed his eyes for the briefest second, as if trying to gather his sense.

when he opened them again, there was unmistakable warmth in them and just as much conflict.

“No deberíamos…” he said quietly.

yet his hand hadn’t left your back. and yours was still curled gently against his shirt. Armando should have stepped back. he knew it. every second he remained standing there made it harder to remember why he should.

the hallway had fallen completely silent, the only sound the distant hum of the stadium lights outside. your hand was still lightly fisted in the front of his training shirt.

his eyes searched yours, looking for something.. permission, perhaps, or the strength to finally put distance between the two of you.

“Deberías odiarme por esto.” you whispered.

his brows knit together. “¿Por qué?”

“Por esto.”

you glanced down between the two of you, suddenly aware of how close you were standing.

“Brian acaba de irse…” your voice cracked again. “Y yo estoy aquí parada contigo…”

Armando let out a slow breath. “Yo no me acerqué porque quisiera que esto pasara.”

“Lo sé.”

the words didn’t make the situation any less complicated.

footsteps echoed somewhere outside the building. both of you instinctively stepped apart. the movement was immediate. almost guilty.

a groundskeeper pushed a maintenance cart past the end of the hallway, offering a nod before continuing on without a second glance. only when he disappeared did either of you breathe normally again.

you laughed nervously. “Supongo que esa es nuestra señal”

Armando nodded once. “Sí.”

but neither of you walked away. instead, he reached into the inside pocket of his training jacket and pulled out his phone.

he unlocked it without a word. for a second, he simply stared at the screen. his thumb hovered over the contacts app.

Don’t

he could still put it away. forget this happened. walk back into the locker room and let tonight become something neither of you ever mentioned again. instead he opened a new contact and silently held the phone out to you.

you looked at it. then at him. your brows furrowed.

“Armando?”

“Si vuelve a pasar algo así… ” his voice stayed even.

but both of you knew that phone number wasn’t only for emergencies.

you hesitated. your fingers brushed his as you accepted the phone.

his contact page was empty. you slowly typed your name. then your number. your thumb hovered over the save button for a second before pressing it.

when you handed the phone back, your fingertips brushed again.

neither of you pulled away immediately. Armando locked the screen almost too quickly. nothing else was said but it should have been goodbye.

the first message didn’t come until two days later. you stared at the notification for almost five minutes. Brian was in the shower. you thumb hovered over the keyboard. it should have ended there. but it didn’t.

the conversations became every few days. then every day. nothing inappropriate. at least not on the surface.

he learned you laughed by sending six messages in a row because you kept thinking of something else to add.

you learned he texted exactly the way he spoke. calm, patient, and thoughtful.

one evening Brian lay beside you on the couch, half watching television. his arm rested around your waist. your phone vibrated against your thigh. without thinking, you glanced down. your lips lifted into a small smile before you could stop them.

Brian noticed, “What?”

“Hm?”

“You smiled.”

“My friend sent me something.” you quickly locked your phone.

Brian nodded, he didn’t ask to see it. he trusted you. the realization left a knot in your stomach.

Brian was absentmindedly rubbing circles against your hip while talking about practice. your attention wasn’t on him anymore. it was on the unread message sitting behind your locked screen. you waited until Brian got up before replying.

the texting didn’t stop even when both Brian and Armando were at practice.

he sat on the locker room bench after training. Brian was two lockers over, laughing with the rest of the team as they argued over whose goal had been better. Armando’s phone buzzed quietly in his palm. he looked down. one new message from you.

“¿Vienes?” Brian’s voice made him look up.

Armando immediately locked his phone. “voy.”

Brian tossed him a towel. “andas mucho en el teléfono.”

Armando caught it one-handed. “Mi mamá.” the lie came naturally

“¿por fin aprendió a mandar mensajes?”

Armando chuckled. “Algo así.”

Brian laughed, completely convinced. “dile que le mando saludos.”

“va, le digo.” Armando slipped the phone into his bag. his stomach twisted. that was the first lie. a small one. the kind people convinced themselves didn’t matter.

sometimes your messages stretched late into the night. Brian would already be asleep beside you, one arm draped over your waist. the room would be dark except for the glow of your phone. you’d smile at something Armando wrote. then quickly dim the screen when Brian shifted in his sleep.

across the city, Armando would be lying in bed with his own phone lighting up his face. he’d reread your messages more than once before finally setting the phone down.

Brian never suspected a thing.

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ᴗ͈ . ᴗ͈

Brian

“… I need you gentlemen to give up sex as we prepare for this new season…”

Brian barely heard the rest of the coach’s speech. everything after that faded into meaningless noise. he almost laughed. the idea that anyone could tell him when he could or couldn’t fuck his girlfriend was ridiculous. he respected the game, respected the work that came with it, but this crossed a line for him. by the time the meeting ended, he’d already made up his mind. as the team filed out, a few guys joked about the new rule, others shrugged and said they’d stick to it. Brian just shook his head. “you guys can do what you want” he said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I’m not doing it.” laughs followed him down the hallway. “You serious?”

“Dead serious” Brian answered without looking back. “Nobody’s making that decision for me.” the truth was, Brian enjoyed nothing more than coming home after long, exhausting practices with his cock buried inside you. it didn’t matter whether practice had been good or bad, every day ended the same way.. with him buried deep to the base, letting out a ragged groan as he cummed inside you. his body simply wasn’t made to go weeks without sex. if anything, it made him play better, burning off the tension and leaving him levelheaded and ready to do it all again the next day. that evening, he was at your apartment before the sun had fully set. Brian didn't even make it past the bedroom before his hands went straight to his waistband once he saw you in bed already waiting for him, he shoved his pants down to free his cock in one quick motion. "cmon Brian…" you breathed against his mouth, and he nodded quickly. he grabbed your hips, spun you around, turning you onto your stomach, you arched your back instinctively, presenting your ass to him, and he delivered a firm spank to one cheek not harsh, but enough to make your skin tingle. "like that?' he asked softly, rubbing the spot before spanking the other side, the sound sharp in the quiet room. you nodded into the pillow, moaning as he positioned himself behind you, he lined up and shoved in deep in one thrust, burying himself to the base with a low groan. "Yeah, this what I needed." he grunted, pace quickening. his hands gripped your hips, pulling you onto him with each deep thrust, his cock slamming against your ass making your body jolt forward slightly. sweat beaded on his skin as he leaned in close from behind, whispering between kisses. "don't I make you feel good." he said, not as a question but rather as a statement he knew was true, one hand slid between your bodies to circle your peaked nipple. his pace turned mean, hips moving as his cock thrust into your pussy over and over, each thrust pulling a sweet wet squelch from your pussy, your body giving in completely under him. a final spank to your ass made you gasp out, pushing you closer to that sweet release. Brian's eyes never left yours, full of love even as he fucked you raw, his shaft twitching inside you. an orgasm hit you first, your pussy clenching around him in, milking his cock as you finished with a shuddered moan. he came seconds later, burying himself deep with a groan, his cock twitching as warm cum filled you. he kept thrusting through it, drawing out the release, his cum spilling out around his base as he filled you completely, the overflow trickling down your pussy. he wouldn't tell you about the rule. not tonight, and maybe not for a while.

Armando

“…let your wives and girlfriends know that this rule, this is going to make you better athletes..”

Armando listened closely as the coach continued. unlike some of his teammates, Armando didn’t scoff or tune it out. he understood exactly what the coach meant. the season demanded discipline, and if sacrificing one distraction meant better focus on the pitch, then so be it. he was determined to commit. that night, he sat you down and explained the new rule. “es solo por la temporada.” , “quiero ver si de verdad tiene razón.” he said. you teased him, asking if he really thought he could stick to it. he answered with confidence. for a while, he did. a week turned into two. two turned into four. every time you playfully tested him, he laughed it off, kissed your forehead, and reminded both of you that he was staying committed. but after a month, the determination that had seemed so effortless started to crack. the discipline was still there, but he was pent up, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t constantly fighting the urge to wrap his fist around his cock. he woke every morning aching from the familiar weight of his morning wood the kind you’d always been more than happy to take care of. even his boxers ended up stained with precum after nothing more than a few kisses from you. it was fucking pathetic, really.

and before long Armando was laid flat on his back, hands already reaching for you to climb on, as he guided you down, your back pressing flush against his chest, his hands skimming up your thighs, grip tightening just beneath your knees as he hooked your legs back, folding you over him. “Eso es. así.” your knees are bent up, thighs open wide, and he’s holding them there, arms curled around to keep you pulled back tight while his cock presses right up to your entrance. you can feel him twitch against your pussy and when he starts to push in, your head tips back onto his shoulder with a breathless gasp. Armando groans right against your ear “¿Lo sientes?” he mutters, voice already breathless as his cock sinks in slow, stretching you open “míranos.” he angles your head forward, one hand releasing a thigh just long enough to guide your chin down so you can see everything.. your pussy stretched wide around his cock, the way you swallow every inch as he thrusts up into you. his cock disappears into you with every upward push, the base of it slick, your pussy wet around it as he starts to move with deeper strokes. you clutch at his forearms, fingernails digging in as he pulls your legs back higher. your moans are ragged, lips parted, body helpless over his. “sigue mirando” he pants, hips slamming upward again, your breath catching with every slap of skin against skin. “sabía que no iba a aguantar.” your legs tremble where he’s holding them back, fully pinned and exposed, the angle deep. he doesn’t let up doesn’t need to because all the control is his. you’re just a mess above him whining into every upward thrust “Armando-” while your fingers dig into his forearms. he grunts, his stomach tightening with each thrusts, he adjusts his grip, pulling your legs back more, “Qué bien te sientes.” he groans, his hands squeeze behind your knees, then slide down, gripping your ass to grind you down harder as he bucks up from underneath, the bed creaking with every thrust. you finish with a sob, head dropping, back pressed to his chest as your pussy spasms around his cock, all sensitive. he groans, holding you close, even as he doesn’t stop moving, chasing his own release with ragged breaths. and with a deep, final thrust, cock twitching inside your pussy as he cums deep in you, panting against your neck. both of you shaking slightly, still breathing hard. Armando may have given in but knew he atleast lasted longer than Brian.

Armando hated how months of morning practice had conditioned his body to wake up early, whether he wanted to or not. today was his rest day, yet his eyes still squinted open long before the sun had properly risen. he hated being up this early when he didn’t have to be. his body never asked for it, and his cock was hard, painfully stiff and unmistakably upright beneath the thin cotton of his boxers, the fabric stretched tight and damp at the tip. he exhaled sharp through his nose, as he lifted his head, rubbing a rough palm down his face and muttered "Fuck..."

it tented straight up from his hips. he tilted his head to the side to glance over at you curled up and still asleep, his arm had fallen asleep under your weight, but he didn't care.

the little tank top you wore had shifted up completely around your ribs in the night, one strap hanging halfway off your shoulder, the neckline gaping wide enough that your tits had slipped free and warm against your chest, one pressed slightly against him, the other soft and out for him to look at, nipple peaked from the morning air. your mouth was open slightly, a hint of drool glistening at the corner of your lips.

he grinned, a slow little twitch of his mouth as his eyes looked over you, his hand came up, knuckles brushing against your cheek, that pretty face, peaceful and unaware.

"Baby" he whispered low, no answer. he leaned in, just a little closer, his knuckles dragging up and down the curve of your cheek.

"Despierta…"

you stirred a little under his touch, brows pulling together as you groaned faintly, eyes twitching but not opening.

"What" you mumbled, he didn't answer. instead, he just reached for your hand, warm and limp, fingers curled loose. gently and slowly, he brought it down to rest against the swollen outline of his cock. pressing it there so you could feel just how hard he was.

you blinked slowly, still heavy with sleep, your brow furrowing at first in confusion until your hand registered the thick, warm bulge straining against his boxers. you looked down, then up at him. Armando, on his side, head propped on the pillow, that crooked grin on his lips.

"Armando..." you murmured

he chuckled softly "No pude aguantarme." he said, dragging your hand a little firmer against him. "Me desperté así… duele."

your fingers curled slightly, feeling just how hard he was, the fabric damp near the tip. he hissed quietly through his teeth, his hips twitching forward a little. you were barely awake but already working him up more. his hand slid over your waist, up the curve of your ribs to cup the breast that had slipped out, soft and full in his hand, thumb brushing your peaked nipple.

you looked at him through still sleepy eyes, lips parting slightly as you took in how needy he looked.

"Estabas durmiendo tan bien…" he whispered, brushing his nose against your cheek. he groaned again, eyes closing shut for a second like just thinking about it was enough to drive him insane.

your fingers moved on him, slowly stroking through the fabric, lazy, teasing, and he rutted up into your hand, cock twitching hard under the friction. his grip on your tit tightened a little, palm kneading you slow.

you smiled, shifting onto your back and tugging him closer by the waistband of his boxers “I'm always nice in the mornings." you whispered.

he let out a breathy laugh, burying his face in your neck, pressing a kiss there before trailing his lips to your collarbone, his hand already sliding your tank higher.

“te lo voy a agradecerte como se debe” he muttered against your skin.

you moved your hand off his cock briefly. you were warm with sleep still, fingers rubbing your eyes as you pushed yourself up into a stretch, arms overhead, your back arching just enough to make your tits lift with the motion. you turned to Armando slow, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his lips.

he met you halfway, mouth parting, deepening it instantly. his hand came up, thumb dragging across your cheek as he held you there, kissing you slow, tongue sliding against yours like he was already thinking about being inside you.

then you pulled back with a little smile, lips damp, and shifted onto your knees beside him. your fingers hooked in the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down, and he lifted his hips without needing to be asked.

his cock sprang free, hard and flushed, the head slick with precum. it bobbed slightly in the morning light, curved up heavy toward his stomach, veins standing out along the shaft. you wrapped your hand around him stroking slow from base to tip and he let out a deep groan, head tipping back into the couch.

“cuídame.” he breathed out and you planned to do exactly that.

your other hand slid down to hook into your waistband, dragging your panties down in one motion, peeling them off your hips and letting them fall somewhere beside the bed. his eyes took in the sight of you, as his hands reached before his brain did, gripping the hem of your tank and yanking it up.

you lifted your arms for him, letting him take it off, and then you were bare in front of him, every inch warm and soft, skin kissed by the light sneaking in from the blinds.

he hummed softly, sitting up on his elbows just to look at you.

his hands were on you again in the next second. palming your hips, dragging you closer as he scooted back slightly to give you space. you let him manhandle you, let him spread your knees across his thighs, his cock twitching between the two of you, pressing against your belly as he sat up straighter.

you leaned in, kissed the corner of his mouth while your hand kept moving along his shaft, the slick sound of your soft strokes. his hips rocked into your grip without thinking, a quiet curse leaving his throat.

one of his hands slid between your thighs, fingers brushing up your slit, groaning when he found you already wet. "¿Ya estabas lista para mí?" he muttered, voice low and rough.

"Always am" you said, smiling against his mouth.

that earned you another kiss. rougher this time, open mouthed and needy. his thumb circled your clit slow, teasing, making your hips twitch forward, your hand tighten a little around him.

"déjame ver cómo me tomas." he said, voice hoarse

you obeyed without question, pulling away just enough to fully swing one leg over, straddling his thighs. his cock stood stiff between you, as you leaned forward and put your hands on his chest. you rolled your hips down, letting the head press between your folds, dragging it slow through your slick before lifting just enough to guide him in.

the stretch was perfect, your mouth parting in a gasp as the head slid past your entrance, inch by inch until you were sinking down, taking him fully, your walls clenching around the full length of him.

Armando’s eyes slammed shut, jaw clenched tight. "Fuck."

your hips rolled slow, loving the pressure, the way he filled you to the base, snug and perfect. his hands came onto your hips, fingers digging into your skin.

suddenly his hand lifted, and landed a firm open handed smack, the sound a soft crack rang low and warm across your ass. the contact softer than you expected it was more encouragement than punishment.

"Déjame sentirte." your thighs quivered just a little as you rocked against him, moving lazy and slow, the way your sleepy body allowed. he was thick inside you, every slide up making you feel the drag of his cock against your walls, every drop back down making him groan deep in his chest. you blinked heavy, barely able to keep your eyes open as you rode him, your rhythm just enough to keep him on the edge.

"Too early Armando..." you mumbled, a little pout in your voice, head rolling forward as your hands were on his chest.

"Lo sé. Lo sé…" he murmured, one hand slipped up between your bodies, fingers finding your tits, cupping one and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “déjame dártelo.”

that made you crack a sleepy smile, the corners of your mouth twitching as you gave a slow little nod. his cock twitched inside you when he saw it.

you started to move over his cock, every drop back down slow and uneven, little gasps slipping out of your mouth each time he hit deep, your hands pressing down on his chest for leverage.

Armando's head tilted back into the pillows again, his eyes closing shut, mouth parted as he let out a ragged moan. “hm, justo así." he rasped, hands sliding to your hips, guiding you as you moved.

"así, me haces sentir bien.” the second smack landed, gentler still, his fingertips brushing the sting away almost immediately, thumb stroking the mark he'd left.

your pussy clenched tight around him with every grind down, your body slick and warm around him, and his fingers couldn't stop touching you. tracing your hips, smoothing up your belly, thumbs brushing across your nipples until they were tight again.

“la próxima vez.. voy a hacer que te sientas tan bien. te lo juro” he groaned.

you whimpered softly, still too tired to do much more than lean forward, your hands sliding to his shoulders for balance, your breasts brushing his chest with every bounce. he sat up halfway, one hand spread across your back to pull you in, keeping you close as your pace slowed, and as your thighs trembled. you were doing your best for him, even half asleep, and he loved you for it.

"Shit" he whispered into your neck, hips bucking up now, taking over, fucking into you slow and deep from below. "ya Estoy cerca" another soft spank, this one half playful, the heel of his hand catching just enough to make you gasp and push harder against him.

you walls tightened around him perfectly as he pushed deeper. his fingers dug into your waist, and his mouth moved warm along your collarbone, panting.

he was coming undone, that long ache from the moment he woke up finally gone, his morning wood being milked. his cock twitched hard inside you, balls tight against his body as he fucked up into you with a desperate groan.

"yeah, fuck-" and then he was cumming, buried to the base, his cock twitching as thick spurts filled you, warmth flooding your pussy. his mouth opened in a silent gasp, then shuddering loose under your weight as he held you still on his lap.

he panted against your skin, “¿Todavía estás cansada?”

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ᴗ͈ . ᴗ͈

Sure, he had an instagram account. He barely used it himself, but he loved seeing the pictures you posted — the ones he’d taken of you — and he never failed to leave embarrassingly sweet and suggestive comments underneath them that made even your best friends blush.

Another thing you absolutely loved about Eddie was that he was possessive.

Not in a toxic way. Eddie never tried to control you or excessively claim you, nor did he treat you like you were anything less than your own independent person. He never isolated you from your friends or questioned where you were every second of the day.

He was possessive in the way that he never missed an opportunity to remind everyone that he belonged to you. He’d proudly walk around with the hickeys and scratches you’d left him, grinning smugly whenever someone pointed them out with a dubious look.

“Courtesy of my princess,” he’d say without a single ounce of shame.

You were his favourite subject, how could you not be? Eddie could spend hours talking about you. He could write ridiculous, overly dramatic sonnets about your laugh and the way your nose scrunched whenever something genuinely amused you. He could probably design an entire comic series inspired by the way your hair danced in the wind. Hell, he’d tattoo your fucking name across his neck if you asked him to.

That’s how hopelessly, ridiculously obsessed and possessive he was with you.

Which was exactly why, the moment you stumbled across the trend on TikTok, you knew you had to try it on him.

The calling your boyfriend your ‘friend’ trend.

It was stupid, and it was evil, and it was going to drive Eddie absolutely fucking insane.

Even though he didn’t care much for TikTok, or any other platform for that matter, Eddie always jumped at the chance to do whatever random thing you wanted.

“What are we doing again?”

“Uh…” you mumbled, balancing your phone on the kitchen counter. “There’s this viral…”

Taking a few steps back, you gently pulled Eddie by the wrist until he was standing beside you, squinting at the screen to check whether the lighting was good enough. Scrunching your nose, you gave his wrist another little tug when you noticed he’d drifted just outside the frame.

“Stay right here,” you instructed. “Do not move.”

Turning around, you walked over to the fridge, grabbed the light blue can, and returned to his side.

“There’s this viral beverage I wanted to try.”

“…And you wanted to get that on camera?” he asked quietly, the words carrying just the slightest hint of hesitation.

“Uh, yeah. Pretty much.”

You placed the can on the counter and shot him a sweet smile over your shoulder.

Eddie simply shrugged, nodding as though your explanation made perfect sense. “Alright. Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

“Ready?”

“I guess.”

With one smooth swipe, you switched your phone from photo to video, started the timer, and hurried back into place. You gave Eddie one last tug when he instinctively stepped out of frame again.

“Hey, guys!” you greeted brightly once the recording started, smiling at the camera as you reached forwards to grab the can. “I’m here with my friend Eddie today.”

Beside you, Eddie — who had been smiling awkwardly at the camera ever since you’d hit record — immediately stopped smiling.

“And today we’re gonna try the new Spindrift drink!”

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing when you noticed Eddie turning his face towards you.

“What—”

Before he could finish, you held the can towards the camera as though clinking it against the screen before turning back to him.

“You wanna go first, bud?” you asked as you popped the tab up and broke the lid open.

Eddie, who had been staring at you with wide, uncertain brown eyes, slowly turned to look at your phone like he was a character on The Office.

For a long second, he simply stared at the screen. His gaze drifted down to the pretty light blue dress you’d put on — somehow the exact same shade as the can in your hand — before slowly lifting back to meet your eyes.

“…What the fuck?” The words came out equal parts confused and unamused.

“What do you mean?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows as you continued holding the can out for him to take.

“Bud?” His nose wrinkled as though the word itself left a bad taste in his mouth. “Friend?”

“…Uh, yeah,” you replied slowly, tilting your head in practiced confusion. “What?”

“What do you mean, what?” His eyebrows remained knitted together as the corners of his mouth slowly turned down. “Did I… did I do something?”

“We’re literally just trying this drink.” You let out a small laugh, pulling a face as though he’d just said the most ridiculous thing imaginable. “Why are you acting weird?”

“Me? Acting weird?” Eddie repeated, hesitantly lifting a hand to scratch at his jaw. “You just… called me your friend.”

“Uh, yeah?” you scoffed. “What’s the big deal?”

“The big…” He blinked at you, looking completely lost. “Sweetheart, why do you keep calling me your friend?”

“Because you are?”

“No, I’m not.” Eddie shook his head, sounding almost offended by the suggestion. “I’m your boyfriend.”

“Exactly.” You nodded matter-of-factly. “My boy,” you paused dramatically, “friend.”

The second the last word left your mouth, a tiny snort escaped. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth as you hastily disguised it with a cough, praying Eddie hadn’t noticed.

But he had.

The longer you looked at him, the harder it became to keep the act going.

Eddie’s bewildered expression slowly gave way to suspicion as he watched your nose scrunch behind your hand, your shoulders beginning to shake with poorly concealed laughter.

“…You’re bullshitting me.”

Eddie rested his hands on his hips like an exhausted father of three and turned his head towards the phone. His teeth found his lower lip as he worried it beneath them for a moment before slowly looking back at you, one eyebrow raised in complete disbelief.

“Friend,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “I’m gonna show you fucking friend.”

He stared at you for another long second before finally reaching over and taking the can from your hand, setting it carefully back down on the counter.

Before you had a chance to react, he reached for your phone, tapping the bright red button to stop the recording.

Eddie left your phone exactly where it was before slowly turning back to face you. The look he gave you was one you knew all too well; you rarely got to see it, which only made it all the more memorable.

His eyebrows were drawn together, his lips pressed into a thin line of annoyance as he tilted his head back just slightly.

“You know…” he began slowly, dragging the tip of his tongue across his lower lip before continuing. “You’re real fucking funny, sweetheart.”

“Eds—”

He barely gave you a second to react before scooping you up into his arms and effortlessly throwing you over his shoulder.

“Maybe we should show your TikTok followers what I’m about to do to you, huh?”

You watched the black-and-white checkered kitchen floor slowly disappear beneath you as Eddie carried you out of the room.

“Eddie, what are you—”

“I’m gonna show you what a great friend I am,” he scoffed.

As if to prove his point that he was the furthest thing from being your friend — like you needed the reminder — he gave your ass a hard slap as he stepped into the hallway leading to your shared bedroom.

A startled shriek escaped you at the sudden sting of his palm, and you immediately began squirming in his hold, hoping to convince him to put you back — but no such luck, unfortunately. Eddie merely tightened his grip around your legs, a low, humourless chuckle rumbling from his chest as he nudged the bedroom door open with his socked foot.

He swiftly pushed the bedroom door shut behind the two of you with the heel of his foot before taking a few slow steps towards the bed — the fresh linens perfectly made from earlier that morning, when you’d changed them.

Carelessly, Eddie lowered you onto the mattress, letting you bounce lightly against it before straightening back up. He dragged a hand through his hair, pushing his unruly curls away from his face as he stood at the foot of the bed, broad shoulders filling the space with an almost unfair amount of confidence.

“I’m not your buddy,” he said, his voice low as you pushed yourself upright. “And I’m not your friend either.”

“Eddie, baby,” you began with a small, sheepish smile, tilting your head to one side. “It was just a—”

“I’m your boyfriend,” he interrupted without missing a beat. “But I guess you need a little reminder of that, hm?”

“I-I though you were gonna show me—”

“And I think you’ve said enough already, hm?” he scoffed.

Eddie didn’t miss a beat before making his way over to the vintage dresser the two of you’d found in that little antique shop a few weeks ago.

“Last time I checked,” he began slowly, dragging the tip of his finger across the worn wooden surface, “you didn’t share this fucking dresser with Robin.”

Another chuckle escaped him. Dry and amused this time, despite the mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes that gave away just how much fun he was actually having.

“And all that talk about adopting a ferret together?” He held up two fingers as he continued listening off his evidence. “Sorry, sweetheart, but adopting an animal isn’t exactly something you do with your friends. Not usually.”

Leaning back against the dresser, Eddie folded his arms across his chest and looked at you with a cocky grin stretching across his face.

“You know what else isn’t something friends do?” He arched an eyebrow, though the look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t actually expecting an answer. “The three orgasms I’m about to give you, just to prove my point.”

“T-three?” you gulped. “I’ve never—”

“Exactly.” He nodded slowly, the smug grin tugging wider at the corners of his mouth. “One orgasm for each time you called me something I’m not.”

Eddie uncrossed his arms, resting them against the dresser behind him as his fingers lazily drummed against the worn wooden surface, his eyes never once leaving you.

The baby blue dress looked painfully good on you. It hugged your waist in all the right places, and the neckline…

Jesus.

It drove Eddie nearly as insane as the little stunt you’d pulled in the kitchen not even five minutes earlier.

His dark brown eyes wandered slowly over your face before drifting down the length of your body, lingering for just a moment before finding yours again.

Pushing himself away from the dresser, he closed the distance between you with slow, unhurried steps. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he climbed onto the bed, both hands sinking into the duvet on either side of you until his nose barely brushed yours.

Eddie looked at you through his lashes, a smug grin slowly spreading across his plush lips as he watched your own part ever so slightly.

“What?” he murmured. “Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

A quiet chuckle escaped him before he leaned in, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to your lips. He lingered there for a long moment, savouring it, before finally pulling away and settling back onto his heels.

Eddie’s hand lazily curled around the neckline of his black t-shirt, peeling it off without the slightest hint of urgency.

You swallowed as your attention was immediately pulled away from his eyes and towards the tattooed expanse of his chest, busier now than it had been when the two of you had started dating. Your gaze lingered on the newest addition to his collection — a neo-traditional raven inked along the right side of his stomach.

“Eyes up here, sweetheart,” he murmured, a teasing smile tugging at his lips as he gently tipped your chin back up with the crook of a finger.

Without caring where it landed, Eddie tossed the shirt over his shoulder before stepping back from the bed. Standing once again at the foot of the mattress, his fingers slowly trailed down the planes of his stomach until they reached the button of his jeans.

“The dress stays on,” he said quietly.

He undid the button, tugged the zipper down, and let the worn denim fall to the floor with a muted thud.

Eddie’s knees sank back into the mattress, making the bedframe creak underneath his weight. He reached out for your thighs, slowly running his hands up and down your legs until, finally, trailing his fingertips higher until they skimmed the lace trim of your panties. Hooking his fingers into the lace, he slowly dragged your panties down your legs, exposing your glistening folds to his dark brown eyes.

He hummed appreciatively as his fingers ghosted along your slick folds, marvelling at how wet you were for him already.

Leaning down, he captured your mouth in a slow kiss, his tongue swiping across your lower lip as he took his sweet time to taste and explore your mouth like he always did when he wanted to torture you. Eddie swallowed your low gasp, relishing in the soft sounds that escaped you.

Breaking away, Eddie blazed a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, pausing to lave attention on your pulse points as he nibbled right above your collarbone.

Eddie trailed kisses down your chest, making sure to skip your hardened nipples under the soft fabric of your dress, until his face finally hovered above your aching core. Being the obsessed freak that he was, he breathed in your heady scent before shooting you a smug grin.

“Hold on tight, sweetheart.” He placed a soft, lingering kiss on the inside of your thigh as he reached for one of your hands. He gave you a gentle squeeze before placing your hand on the back of his head. “Because I’ll not be going easy on you.”

With an arched, daring eyebrow, he plunged in, tongue delving deep into your slick heat. He lapped and sucked, worshiping you with lips and teeth and tongue until you were a trembling mess, falling backwards until your head hit the pillows behind you.

Your hips bucked involuntarily at the sudden feeling of Eddie sealing his mouth over your swollen clit, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves rapidly with the tip of his tongue as he slowly plunged a thick finger knuckle-deep into your tight pussy. He pumped and curled his digit, stroking your slick walls until you were fluttering around him.

“A-ah! F-fuck, Eddie—”

He sucked harder on your clit, adding a second finger into you as he thrusted them faster and deeper until you’re shattering with a broken gasp, your release gushing over his chin as he worked you through the aftershocks.

Holding your gaze, Eddie slid his fingers out of you and pushed them into his mouth. His tongue lapped eagerly at them, licking them clean, while his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure at the way you tasted.

After licking his digits clean, he pulled the top part of your dress down until the fabric sat underneath your breasts. Cupping your boobs, he thumbed your hardened nipples teasingly. Eddie’s dark brown eyes locked onto yours as he slowly rolled one hardened nipple between his thumb and forefinger, tugging harshly. It made pleasure zing straight to your core, making you squirm underneath him. He lavished the same attention to your other nipple, pinching and tweaking it until he had you begging for more.

“P-please, Eds—”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

Reaching between your bodies, Eddie pushed his boxers down just enough to free his aching length. The sight of his cock made your mouth water every single time — long, thick mushroom tip, and painfully pink.

He notched the broad tip of his cock against your slit, teasing and probing before sinking into your slick pussy with one powerful thrust.

“Is this what a friend does to you? Huh?” He chuckled darkly as he looked down at you. “C’mon, sweetheart. Answer me.”

“Hmm.” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you bit your lip. “N-no.”

He could swear you were molten silk clutching him tight, stroking his length with each desperate roll of his hips as you met his thrusts.

Eddie pistoned his hips faster, harder, burying himself to the hilt again and again. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping skin, breathy pants and bitten-off curses.

“F-fuck.”

“C’mon, sweetheart. Gimme another one,” He punctuated each word with a sharp snap of his hips, chasing your second release like his life depended on it. “Be a good fucking friend and come on my cock.”

“H-harder, Eds. P-please.”

The desperate, broken plea spurred him on. He grabbed your hips bruisingly tight as he drove into you with ruthless precision, angling to hit that special spot deep inside that always made you scream. The obscene slap of his balls against your ass echoed through the room, while his curly pubes brushing against your swollen clit pulled desperate gasps from your lips.

Your fingers curled into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp before you pulled at his roots, while your other hand raked down his sweat-slicked back. Your leg locked around his waist, heel digging into the plush fat of his ass as you urged him impossibly closer.

“You’re so fucking tight f’me, baby,” he growled, voice wrecked.

“E-Eds, I’m g-gonna—”

Your release crashed over you, white-hot and blinding as you clenched down hard on his aching cock. Your walls puled around him as he continued grinning wolfishly at your open mouth and glassy eyes.

He leaned down to capture your lips in a messy, desperate kiss. Eddie slipped his tongue inside your mouth, bobbing his head as he sloppily sucked on your tongue.

“That’s it, baby,” he rasped. “Just one more, you can do it. I know you can.”

“I-I can’t, Eds,” you whimpered, desperately licking your lips to get rid of the dry feeling. “P-please—”

Eddie trailed open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, down the column of your throat, suckling at your pulse points hard enough to leave marks.

He grabbed at your hips, guiding you to meet each roll with a grind of his own. His breathing was strained as his hips worked feverishly now, chasing that high. Curving one hand around to rub tight circles on your clit, Eddie doubled his efforts, determined to tip you over the edge and watch you fall apart on his cock, crying his name.

Sweat slicked your straining bodies as he plunged into your sloppy heat over and over. The wet squelch of your messy cunt, the lewd slap of flesh, your needy cries — it’s almost too much, even for Eddie.

“That’s it, baby. Soak my fucking cock.” He rasped desperately, fingers flying over your throbbing clit.

Eddie could tell you were close, pussy clenching hard around him, thighs trembling around his pistoning hips.

With a final twist of his wrist, he sent you over the edge with a high pitched, broken moan that somewhat resembled his name. Your pussy fluttered and gushed around him, soaking his thighs with a hot and unexpected jet, clenching so hard on his cock you milked him for all he’s worth.

“Ed-Ed— Fuckfuckfuck.” Your head was tilted back, neck on display and mouth wide open. “Mmpff!”

“Jesus— F-fucking take it,” he gasped, nuzzling into your neck to sink his teeth into your skin.

With stuttering hips, Eddie’s rhythm faltered as the feeling of your squirting pussy drenching him, unravelling the last thread of his control. With one last moan, he buried himself to the hilts pulsing and shuddering as he filled you up, painting your greedy pussy in that addicting sticky, milky white.

Eddie pushed himself up just enough for his gaze to drift lazily to where the two of you were connected, his tired, wide eyes settling on the mess you’d made of the fresh linens, like he’d just witnessed a miracle.

The sight drew a slow grin to his face. He caught his lower lip between his teeth before a quiet, satisfied chuckle escaped him. Reaching up, he gently tapped two fingers against your cheek before letting his hand cradle your face, his thumb brushing softly over your skin as he tipped your chin back towards him.

“So,” he murmured, his fingertips pressing ever so slightly into your cheeks. “Who am I?”

You blinked your eyes open, still dazed, your tongue sweeping absently across your lower lip before you managed a sleepy, satisfied smile.

“M-my boyfriend.”

A smug smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Damn right I am.”

Neither of you spoke much after that. You simply stayed tangled together, basking in each other’s warmth while your breathing gradually slowed and your racing heart settled back into its familiar rhythm.

After a while, Eddie wrapped his arms around you and drew the two of you a warm, well-deserved bath.

He settled into the tub first before gently pulling you back against him, your back resting flush against his chest. One arm stayed securely around your waist while the other slowly worked your favourite soap into a rich lather, his touch gentle as he washed over your arms.

“I love you,” you murmured, resting your head against his shoulder.

“I love you more, sweetheart,” Eddie replied, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek. “But do not ever call me your friend again.”

A giggle escaped you as you nodded. “Deal.”

Some hours later, after Eddie had helped you into one of his oversized t-shirts and patiently combed the tangles from your hair, the two of you found yourselves curled up on the couch, you lazily scrolling through the comments on your TikTok while he started working on a joint.

He’d frowned when you’d told him you were posting it, though the look quickly faded once you explained that the trend was about getting your partner’s reaction — not trying the can of sparkling water that was still sitting forgotten on the kitchen counter.

Eddie, who normally didn’t give a rat’s ass about social media beyond hyping you up in the comments of your Instagram posts, had eventually let his curiosity get the better of him. Leaning over your shoulder, he stretched his neck to get a look at your phone.

Congratulations on your pregnancy girl!

oh, she’s exactly where she wants to be

I’m gonna show you fucking friend???? HELLO???

You couldn’t help the snort that escaped you, while Eddie merely blinked confused at the phone in your hand.

“…Pregnancy?”

“It’s a TikTok thing, babe.”

He frowned a little harder before reading the next comment.

“‘The way he looked at her after she said ‘my boy… friend’, girl I would have folded IMMEDIATELY’.”

A smug grin spread across Eddie’s face as he turned to look at you, a quiet scoff escaping him while hr raised his eyebrows in triumph.

“See? The internet agrees with me.”

You rolled your eyes, though the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.

Eddie simply looked back down at his hands, carefully finishing the joint he’d promised to roll while the two of you soaked in the bath.

“Shut up.”

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Make me, sweetheart.”

Permanent tag list? Just ask!

Despite your offer to let him have you at his mercy, the first month continued much like that first night — only somehow more reverent. He wanted it all the fucking time, barely making it 48 hours before calling you back to his apartment, letting you ruin him all over again.

There was just something in the way you moved. He constantly found himself craving the slow torture before overstimulation, your praises and the way your fingers trailed through his hair afterwards.

But eventually, after one particularly overstimulated night, where his cock was sore and leaking and already on his fourth orgasm, he was begging to be inside you. You were cooing and teasing all soft laughs and a smug little “not yet, baby” whispered against his skin and finally, the last button had been pressed, he flipped you over pinning you to the mattress.  

“Been good all fucking night,” he rasped. “You’ve had your fun.” 

“Oh?” you hummed, trying to sound unaffected though the shock was evident on your face. 

“Think it’s my turn.”

With a sly smirk you replied, “Do your worst.”

Eddie didn’t hesitate. And fuck, did it feel like coming home.

More specifically, like returning after some grand trip. The type where you truly feel your life has been changed and it could never go back to exactly as it was before. And before you, he’d gotten off on being ruthless for the sake of it. Now that didn’t appeal to him the same way. Instead, he was pulling moans from you with a practiced control he only learned by being on your receiving end.

So even if it was filthy and rough, spanking the fat of your ass with his ring clad hand, hard enough to leave welts — he offered reprieve. He thrived off the sound of your screams melting into whimpers, every time he licked your hot stinging flesh. And when you were all sticky and sopping wet, he rewarded you both, licking it all up like a man starved, until you writhed on his tongue. 

Even through it all, he always remained your good boy. No matter what the roles were for the night.

The new dynamic wasn’t some competition for power, it was just cooperation. A mutual understanding that the two of you did something so volatile to each other, it insisted on being reciprocated. 

Tonight, you’ve been teasing and not with the grace you so often gave.

Not only had he not come yet, but you were still fully clothed while he laid in his boxers as you tantalized him through the fabric for the better part of an hour.

“Sweetheart,” he groans, hands flexing at his sides in annoyance. 

Your hands retreat from his body back to your lap, lashes fluttering up at him, with a smirk. “I know, baby,” you whisper. “Was just getting myself wet for you.” 

There it is, the pass of the baton. 

Eddie sighs softly as you move to strip at the end of the bed. He watches in awe at the way your pretty clothes slip off, landing in a perfect pile — such a contrast to the mess he’s about to make of you. 

No time is wasted the moment you climb on the bed next to him. He cages you beneath him as his lips crash against yours. You hum against his mouth, your hands immediately finding him, and Eddie moans into you the second your hands claw at his back. 

Once upon a time, he had his partners restrained — handcuffs, rope, zip ties, whatever kept wandering hands at bay. But never with you. He loves the sting of your nails dragging across his skin, reminding him exactly who he belongs to.

His hands leave the mattress, settling at your waist before sliding slowly up your sides. His lips moving from your mouth to your neck as you sigh beneath him. He can’t help but smile against your skin, your name falling from his lips as your hands tug gently at his hair as he works his way down peppering kisses along your abdomen.

You keep shifting beneath him, hips lifting off the bed, and a quiet laugh slips from his throat.

“Nuh-uh. Don’t think so,” he murmurs, flattening his hands over your hips with a firm press. 

“Please, baby. I need it so bad,” you whine. 

Eddie tsks softly, shifting quickly to grab the vibrator from the nightstand, and placing it beside him on the bed. “You’ll get everything you need and then some. I promise.” 

Eddie notices the way your breath hitches. He knows that you know he never breaks a promise.

A low moan escapes him as he slides his index finger between your folds — so wet and inviting. He slowly circlesyour clit, adding extra pressure, and instantly you’re whimpering. 

He’s selfish about this. He can’t help it. Eddie loves the way you sound too much — the noises you’re making like a symphony made only for him. So he lets it happen again, and again just to hear you like that, to push you further each time — all breathless and frustrated because you’re so fucking needy. 

“Please,” you whine.

“Soon. You know it feels better this way,” he coos, watching the way tears slip down your face after another edge.

He’s not sure you’ve ever spoken truer words than when you said you were pretty when you cried. Fuck, what a sight. It truly never gets old to see your eyes glassy as your mascara runs down to your trembling lips — all fucked out before you’ve even gotten off.

Just as the tears start to really stream, does he give you what you deserve.

He removes his fingers only to grab the vibrator, turning it on high and pressing it against your clit until your breath breaks into a scream. 

“Atta girl,” he groans. "Give me all you've got."

Taking a page out of your book, he doesn't let up, rolling one orgasm into the next, keeping the vibrator firm against you as your body shakes, his left hand gripping your thigh to keep you steady as you unravel beneath him in. 

And when you look like you can’t take it anymore, he removes that hand steadying you, and without warning, he sinks two ring clad fingers into you, pumping them as you scream.

“Eddie, yes, oh fuck, baby— yes!” 

A greedy chuckle slips past his lips, gravelly in his throat as he ruts his hips into the bed for some friction against his strained boxers.

You clamp your thighs tight — the telltale sign it’s becoming too much. Your cries break, breath morphing into sharp gasps, and only then does he begin to slow. He clicks the vibrator down to low, easing the pace of his fingers, letting them move inside you softer and more controlled. 

“Breathe me for me, sweetheart.” 

“Too much, it’s too much,” you gasp. 

“Hey,” he murmurs immediately, slowing his movements. “That’s not what we say if we need to stop. What do you say?” 

Death star loops in his head as he waits for you to say it — though it's only ever fallen from your mouth the night you agreed on it. 

You shake your head, and fist your hands into the sheets. “More.”

Another laugh slips past his lips as he continues, speeding his fingers back up until you’re convulsing around them with a cry of his name. Quickly, he shuts off the vibrator, leaning down to lap at your overworked pussy.

He licks a path up your body, as you shudder softly, your hands finding their way right back to his skin, nails taking their hold as he shimmies out of his boxers, and settles between your legs. You wrap them lazily around his waste as he pushes into you and a gasp tears from his throat at the feeling of your walls gripping his cock so tightly.  A stream of curses fall from his mouth as you gaze up at him, your hands scratching up his back until your left hand is hot against his cheek, thumb toying with his bottom lip - pulling it down and releasing it. 

“Obnoxiously good lips,” you sigh, kissing him and biting down so rough, he can’t help but growl — deep and guttural, as his eyes begin to water. 

You're at Eddie's for the weekend, casually reading one of his metal magazines out of curiosity.

The moment you came over, Eddie was beaming about a new bag of gummies he'd never seen at the store before until recently. He decided to buy them for you since he knows you have a sweet tooth sometimes.

As Eddie's going around his room and trying to straighten up as much as he can to make room for more things in the future, you're both sharing the bag of strawberry flavored gummies.

"These are like, abnormally good." You say, popping another one into your mouth.

"I'll get you those more often, then." Eddie smiles, letting you feed him another one.

You start feeling warm and relaxed, and everything around you seems to have a tranquility you haven't achieved in your life.

Eddie stops what he's doing to look at you. His nose is blushed, as are his cheeks. His eyelids are hung lower than usual and his irises look as if he's in a dreamy state.

"Did I ever tell you you're the prettiest girl in the world?"

"Stop it, Eddie." You chuckle warmly.

"You look... incredible."

"Okay, Eddie. What is in these gummies?"

You cross your legs at the throbbing sensation in between your legs before you read the bag.

Enjoy responsibly. Pop 2-3 for a good time;).

Your eyes widen like saucers. Oh.

You give Eddie the bag and the simple brush of his fingers against yours makes you whimper.

When Eddie sees it, he panics internally for a split second. "Oh shit, babe I'm so sorry-"

"Just stop talking." You cut him off. Your body is in waves of heat flashes.

"Why, baby?" He grins goofily.

"I want you to fuck me."

"You dying for it?"

"Yes, Eddie."

"I'm dying to fuck you, too."

Eddie gets up from kneeling at his drawer to cup your ass and pick you up from his bed. His lips are desperately moving with yours while his hands squeeze you with everything he's got, his ring bands digging slightly into your ass.

With just enough of your hungry strength, you use your body weight so that you're on top of him when he's back flat on the bed.

The moment his thigh grazes your pussy, you're already kissing him again. Subconsciously, you begin rubbing your pussy against his thigh. Eddie holds you by your hips and gives you more pressure by holding his thigh closer against it.

You break the kiss to rest your head into his shoulder and cry into him as your hips move faster.

"G- God, I'm gonna cum already!" You whine.

"Please cum, baby." He begs with sweat beads lofting on his forehead.

You roughly fuck his thigh until your body jolts from how hard you cum in your panties.

"Wanna clean you up, baby." Eddie's eyes pierce through you with desperation.

"Are...are you about to cry, Eddie?"

"I wanna eat you out. Please, baby." He's grabbing at your shorts, clenching them at the waistband.

He's practically ripping off your clothes, his knuckles white from his harsh gripping as he does so.

You feel your hips being hoisted upwards once he's done.

"Eddie no, I'm going to suffocate you-"

"Please do." He pleads before sitting your pussy directly on his face. His tongue flicks fervently at your pussy, sloppy and carefree.

Your hips jolt and your thighs clench around your head from being unable to keep up with him. He's groaning into you. The pain from his rings as he holds you down in place hurts so good.

"E-Eddie-" Your hands fight to grip his sheets, though you lose it a few times.

Your back arches when you ride his face. His nose rubs you just right as his tongue is still stimulating you.

"Fuck, Eddie!"

He growls a low rumble in his chest when he starts sucking on your bud, and you swear you can see fireworks in the air.

With a sharp cry of his name, your body twitches as you cum on his face. You continue face fucking him to suppress the waves of your orgasm before you get off of him to sit on his torso again.

Eddie's face is soaked, and he seems to have shed a few tears.

"Eddie...?"

"I'm sorry. You taste so good-"

You place a finger over his mouth. "It's okay, I promise."

You move down to position your face at his crotch. "I want to make you feel good, too."

You rush to pull down his pants just enough to reveal his erect cock that's wet from him eating you out.

You hold his cock with your hand, leaving the tip accessible so that you can lick it in a slow circle.

"Fuck, you're teasing me."

Impatient with need, you take it into your mouth to suck it with a certain amount of pressure.

You hear the sheets crinkle from him grabbing them.

He hisses when you start moving your hand to stroke him as you continue bobbing your head slightly to suck his tip.

"Oh, God." He groans. One of his hands comes to rest on his forehead to give him some sort of mental stability as you're wrecking him.

Spit begins covering his tip profusely the longer you continue. Your hand picks up in rhythm as it begins to while stroking him.

Eddie's back arches off the bed.

"Fuck, are you trying to kill me?" He gasps, taking sharp breaths that make his tummy rise and fall.

If Eddie could, he would hold his noises back. But he just can't.

His cock grows warm in your hand in mouth, letting you know he's about to cum within seconds.

"Ah, ah, fuck! Oh fuck!"

Eddie cries your name when he cums. You remove your mouth from him to spit into a cup you and Eddie forgot about a couple of hours ago.

A few curls of his stick to his flushed and sweaty face. His eyes are closed as he tries to get the room to stop spinning in his head.

"Are you okay?" He asks, finally opening his eyes again. His voice is hoarse from moaning.

"I...I think I'm still..." You stutter.

"Need to use me again, honey?"

"Yes."

You pull down his pants to his ankles, and position yourself on your thigh again.

"I- just one more, Eddie-"

Eddie grips you in place by the sides of your tummy.

"Come on, baby."

You're stimulating yourself on his thigh, rolling your pussy on him in a sloppy manner.

"That's it, baby. Use me wherever you want."

Your slick from your first orgasm adds a level of pleasure when it coats his thigh enough to give you a smoother surface to fuck yourself on.

The upper half of your body collapses onto Eddie from being unable to hold itself up. He holds you close.

"That's it, baby. Keep going. I love you so much."

You let out a high pitched cry from your intense orgasm, and hold onto him for stability and comfort. You both begin to feel tired.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know they weren't...normal."

"It's...the best and worst mistake you've ever made." You huff with amusement.

"Same time, next week?" You can hear the shit eating grin in his voice.

Brian

you loved his arms. not just liked, you loved them. Brian had noticed weeks ago. it wasn’t anything obvious enough for someone else to catch, but he knew you too well. every time you walked beside him, somehow you ended up brushing against his arm. every time he carried something heavy you were suddenly very interested in watching, just to see as his bicep tightened beneath the sleeve of his shirt. when he opens jars that definitely aren’t stuck, your eyes lingered a second too long before darting away. you thought you were subtle. you weren’t. so, he finally decided to give into your little guilty pleasure and give you what you wanted. "Turn around" he said quietly. you obeyed without hesitation, back brushing up against his chest, warm and firm behind you. the rough drag of his towel barely separated your ass from the thick bulge of his cock growing underneath. you gave an experimental grind, slow, teasing, just enough to make him groan under his breath and curl his fingers tight around your waist. "That's it" he murmured, pulling you in harder, pressing you back into him. his grip held you firmly. but it was his other arm that moved next, snaking around from behind, slowly until it locked across your neck, forearm rising, your chin rested neatly into the crook of his elbow. the hold was tender almost, but then he flexed. it started soft, his forearm tightening gradually, his bicep swelling against your cheek, your jaw, your throat. that arm, drawing you back into him, holding you there like his own personal prize. and you moaned soft and breathy, because the weight, the pressure wrapping around your neck felt like heaven. "Unnnh Brian-" your breath barely made it out, muffled as your lips brushed the crook of his arm. his scent hit you, that clean smell from being fresh out the shower. the muscle flexed again, harder this time, and your body reacted to it, hips rocking back, searching for friction, craving that bulge pressed up against you. "Mmmph" you gasped softly into the muscle, his bicep twitching beneath your fingertips as your hand rose without thinking, fingers tracing the slope of muscle. you could feel every inch of his flex, thick and hard under your touch, "Feel it" he said again, breathless this time, watching your eyes as they took him in. your thumb swept slow over the curve of his arm. not even trying to hide the way your hips rolled a little against his just from the contact. his lips were parted, pupils blown, but he wasn't saying anything, just watching you. "harder, Brian harder." you said, and it came out faster than you meant it to, eager, breathless, a little too honest. you could feel Brian’s chest rising against yours as if he was trying to hold himself back "shit baby, you're really into this, huh?" you hummed in response, lips still pressed to his arm, the sound muffled completely by him as his bicep swelled again, this time like a reward. "My girl likes getting choked, huh?" he breathed against your ear, breath warm down your neck. his words were possessive, loving, and proud. you nodded, desperate and breathless, another "mhmm" barely escaping as your lips dragged over the rise of his bicep. he was flexing it just for you now, holding it there and all you could do was keep mouthing at it. your cheek glued to that thick ridge of muscle as the pressure stayed right on the edge. his hips rolled forward slow, and now the shape of his cock dragged perfectly up your ass, just barely separated by the towel. you gasped again, body jerking in his hold, but there was nowhere to go, his arm stayed locked tight, his bicep pressed over your mouth and neck.

Armando

Armando never liked showing off. not at the gym, not with his friends, not even when you used to joke about it. but you were the one person he liked being strong for, being big for. you loved his arms. the swell of muscle, earned through months of hard practice, had become one of your favorite places in the world. every night felt like a reward when you curled into the nook of Armando’s arm, your cheek resting against his bicep as if it had been made just for you. sometimes he’d shift in his sleep, the muscle beneath your face flexing for a brief second before relaxing again and it always made you smile. before drifting off, you’d always press a soft kiss against his bicep, your lips brushing warm skin before settling comfortably against him. your hand would instinctively find his forearm or upper arm, absentmindedly squeezing the muscle there. he never minded lounging around the apartment shirtless after practice. the second he collapsed onto the couch, your hands would find his shoulders first, thumbs pressing into the tense muscle. slowly, patiently, you’d work your way across his back, smoothing over the firm lines of muscle with practiced care. Armando’s head tipped forward, a long breath leaving him. “There you go” you whispered. your palms slid down to his upper arms, fingers tracing the curve of his biceps before gently kneading the tightness there. you always seemed to know exactly where he ached. Armando couldn’t help the quiet groan that escaped him, rolling one shoulder beneath your touch before relaxing completely. “Se siente bien…” he murmured, his voice thick with exhaustion. a smile tugged at your lips. “Supposed to.” you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the sore spot near his shoulder, peppering kissing along his neck then trailing down to his bicep. for all his confidence, compliments had a way of making him shy. he never quite believed you when you called him handsome or strong, even after hearing it countless times. the way your fingers traced lazily over his bicep while the two of you talked. he liked being big enough for you to disappear into his hugs. the way you fell asleep holding onto him like you couldn’t imagine a more comfortable place to be. one night, long after everything had gone quiet, Armando looked down to find you already asleep against him, one hand wrapped loosely around his bicep. he smiled to himself. maybe he didn’t see anything particularly special when he looked in the mirror but if his arms could make you feel this safe, then maybe they were worth appreciating after all. carefully, so he wouldn’t wake you, he wrapped them around you just a little tighter.

The heat had already clouded his thoughts, and watching you prance around his house like his own little housewife made the haziness ten times worse. He respected your friendship, always keeping his hands to himself and respecting your boundaries, but goddamn were you the sexiest women he knew.

“I’m gonna run to the store real quick, alright Stevie?” You called out, standing beside the door. “Maybe see if I can find some fresh fruit to cool us down.”

He couldn’t even think anymore, his body was burning with heat that wasn’t from the weather, and his aching boner was getting progressively harder to hide. “Mhm, you do that.” He replied half-heartedly, already rushing into his bedroom.

As soon as he heard the front door shut, Steve let out a groan, lying down on his bed. He quickly shuffled his jeans down, the relief was immediate, his cock bouncing up against his stomach.

He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. It’s wrong, you’re his best friend. But only this time, and he’d forget it even happened…

Spitting into his hand, Steve gripped the base of his cock, slowly mixing his saliva with the pre cum and twisting. His hips bucked for more, he knew his touch alone wouldn’t be enough.

Closing his brown eyes, he allowed his thoughts to drift back to you, your breasts that looked seconds away from bursting out of their tight confinement, what he’d give to massage them with his own hands, sucking on them until they hardened.

Your hips that swayed each time you took a step, teasing him dangerously. And your thighs—Steve appreciated your whole body but there was something about your thighs that did it for him. They hadn’t been covered at all, naked to his vision that left him wondering how they’d feel crushing his head while he ate your sopping pussy.

Your ass had looked so plump, whenever you bent down, Steve prayed that the lord would have mercy on him to not grope the fat and take you right then.

He started breathing heavier with every pump of his hand. Moaning out your name desperately, he imagined it was your hand jerking him off, guiding him to release. “Oh—fuck,” he yelled throatily. “Don’t stop, feels so good, baby. I’m—I’m so close, just like that, shit.”

Steve hadn’t been able to pleasure himself this good in a long time, even sex with other girls couldn’t fulfill the desire inside of him. But now, he was trying to stop himself from cumming too early, wanting to prolong his release as long as possible.

You shut the door behind you, panting as you carried a grocery bag inside. You paused in your tracks, realizing the house was much more emptier than when you had left it. Steve wasn’t sitting on the couch anymore, and when you looked around, you found no sign of him.

Frowning to yourself, you walked down the hall slowly, and that’s when you heard it. Something which sounded too close to a moan, then a few breaths, and a grunt of your name.

For a moment, you feared he was hurt, unable to come towards you. In Steve’s haste, he hadn’t properly shut the door, and right when his jaw slackened, on the edge of an orgasm, the door swung open, revealing you standing there with wide eyes.

“Fuck!” He shouted, quickly shooting up to face you in his state.

You stayed there, eyes moving from his face to his cock, lingering longer than you should have. His cock was a dream, much longer than any guy you’d been with, veins running up the sides towards his mushroom red tip, slick with pearly liquids.

Then you observed his hand that had been wrapped around it moments before, the sight would be forever engraved into your mind. His head was thrown back and a focused expression drawn on his face, you suddenly remembered the moan of your name. Had he been jerking off to you?

“I didn’t know you to be back so soon—” Steve rushed to explain himself, but when he caught your thighs clenching the slightest bit, something darkened in his gaze.

“I-I’m sorry,” your voice cracked, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Reality hit you all at once, kicking in your fight or flight response. You quickly turned around, just as you reached for the doorknob, a voice cut through the atmosphere.

“Wait!” Steve swallowed thickly, he hadn’t finished yet and who knew how awkward things would be between you after this. The only solution left was to make the most out of the situation, and he dared you to look him in the eyes as say you hadn’t been as equally turned on by his actions.

You slowly turned back around, fighting to not follow the trail of hair downwards. “What?” You exhaled shakily.

“Could you—help me?” Steve slowly asked. “You know, as friends.”

You were so taken aback by his question your mouth opened and no words left you. “Just c’mere.” He gestured, and wordlessly you followed, something in you giving in to him that hadn’t been there before.

Steve’s eyes drank you in, your figure up close was even better, and now there was a thin sheet of sweat glistening on your skin, making him lick his lips. “You don’t even know you’d good you look.” He husked lowly. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me either.”

You still hadn’t mumbled a single word, only standing between his legs like a rag doll. Then the thoughts began connecting, your dress, him masturbating, was that all it took for him to want you like this?

You decided to ruffle his feathers some more. “Did I…make you horny, Stevie?” You whispered, leaning a bit closer.

Steve let out an audible grunt, then reattached his hand to his still hard cock. “Ya see this?” He gave it a rough tug, you couldn’t help but bite down onto your lip. “All ‘cause of you, sweet thing.”

You reached out to touch his shoulder, sliding your thumb over the mole littered skin. “Can I make you feel better?” It hadn’t even occurred to you that the only thing between you was friendship, helping out a friend in a time of need was the right thing to do.

“Think you can do that for me, baby?” He looked up at you through hooded lids. “Get on your knees, pretty girl.”

You sank down onto your bare knees, angling your head to keep your eyes locked onto his. At first, Steve didn’t even need you to touch him yet, you in front of him like this was all it took.

He started pumping himself again, just watching you and admiring you in a rare position. “So so pretty for me. You hear that, baby? Only you could make me this desperate.” His voice deepened by the minute, getting himself worked up.

Steve cupped your jaw in one hand, rubbing the skin like you were something precious. He swiped his thumb over your lips before moving downwards, gliding over your collarbone and finally your tits,

“Mmm, fucking hell.” You gasped as he palmed the left one, squeezing it tightly. “These tits are gonna be the death of me.” He said, all while continuing to fist his cock, you started squirming where you were kneeling, his touch was just as teasing, and you wanted nothing more than to replace his hand with yours.

“Can I fuck your tits, sweetheart? Get them all dirty with my cock?” Steve asked, and you almost moaned at the thought. Slick was starting to soak through your panties, and you wanted to feel his cock on any part of you.

“Yes, please, Stevie. Fuck my tits, need you to.” You panted, already rushing to pull the straps of your dress down, letting your breasts spill out.

Steve leaned forwards, bending down to swirl his tongue all over them, getting them wet enough. You arched into him, gripping his hair as he licked the valley between them.

He finally pulled back. “Push them real close for me.” Steve instructed, watching while you pushed your tits together, making a perfect gap for him to slide through.

Steve thrusted into your chest, immediately groaning at the softness that surrounded him. “Fuuuuck, feels even better than I imagined.” He started off slow, just appreciating how hot your tits looked bouncing up and and down.

When his tip peaked through the other side, you lowered your chin and kitten licked at his slit. Steve reacted by thrusting harder, gripping the shears underneath. “Do that—do that again.” He demanded. “Mhm, just like that.”

You could practically feel how close he was getting from the endless twitching of his cock every time your lips wrapped around his head. You needed to taste more of him, abandoning your tits, you kept around him on the next thrust, fully bringing his cock into your mouth.

“God—” Steve didn’t pull away, if your tits felt good, your mouth was heaven. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked him off as deeply as you could, feeling him all the way in the back of your throat.

You slightly gagged, but refused to pull off. “Just let me—yeahh, let me use that mouth.” Steve held you in place with a hand tangled in the back of your head, burying your nose into the small patch of hair above his cock while he rammed into your throat.

You felt tears gather in your eyes, and when he finally felt his high approaching again, he quickly pulled out of your mouth, holding his cock to paint your tits white.

You watched Steve shoot ropes of his hot cum onto your body while trying to catch your breath. He let out a loud moan, forcing his eyes open to whole time. He dragged two fingers through the mess he made, laughing to himself as he wiped his cum across your nipples, noticing when you shivered at the action. Then Steve brought the same fingers to your lips, tapping once before you wrapped your lips around them, sucking gently.

“Swallow my cum, good girl.” He praised you, then bent back towards you again, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead.

Steve could see how needy you were, and he couldn’t wait to see if you were as sweet as you looked.

“Aw, is your poor pussy crying for me, baby?” He asked with a tilt of his head.

You only nodded slowly, the ache in your lower stomach was becoming unbearable, you were seconds away from pushing your panties to the side and making yourself cum right in front of him.

Steve patted his knee. “Well then make yourself at home, sweetheart.” But when you stood up shakily, about to sit down on him, Steve grabbed your hips, and forced you the other way around, making your face collide with the sheets while your ass was on display over his knee.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” Steve sighed, able to see the wet patch of your panties like this. You whimpered, shimming your hips around.

Steve understood, moving your panties to reveal your puffy lips, and swollen clit. He coo’ed at how neglected your pussy was, spreading two fingers through your folds in a v-shape.

“I’ll make it all better, don’t worry, bub.” He gave a firm pat to your ass, then without warning, shoved both fingers inside of you.

You cried out, mewling against the mattress. But Steve didn’t take pity on you, just like when you hadn’t taken pity on him while wearing that slutty dress. He instantly set a quick pace, scissoring you from the inside and curling his fingertips against your clenching walls.

“Mmf—Stevie—urg! I—can’t—ahh,” you couldn’t speak coherent words, just prayed that he knew not to slow down, that you were already close.

“What was that, baby? Can’t hear you from how wet your pussy is.” Steve mocked, listening to the squelches that echoed through the room, and watching your arousal coat all the way down to his wrists.

Steve kept his fingers thrusting inside of you, and ducked down to suck on your clit, making the pleasure increase tenfold. You gasped at the sensation, trying to grind backwards but only being met with another smack to your ass.

“Stay fucking still.” Steve warned, pulling your clit into his mouth with added vigor, teeth lightly caging around it.

“Ohh—fuck!” You willed yourself to lay there and take it, focusing on his mouth while he fucked you with his fingers.

“Can feel how close you’re getting, uh-huh, just cum all over my face, baby. Thats all I’ve wanted you to do all day.” Steve added in a third finger, and that’s all it took before you were clenching hard around his fingers, and squeezing your eyes shut.

He rode you through your high, rubbing your clit with soft circles. You jumped at the overstimulation, crawling away from him. “C-Can’t take it anymore, Stevie.”

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

also, the taglist is being really funky. i'm sorry if it's not tagging everyone pasted, i've been messing with the tags every time but tumblr likes to play games sooooooo

if you wanna be notified when i post, don't be shy and turn those post notis on ;))

taglist:

@a-villain-vying-for-attention  @fapqueen @sadgirl-bee @bowie-frommars @milescrypt  @bitterestwillow @lnnn1n @youngbrokefab @ludachrissy @sisteramycatherine @izzycstairs @britttzy267 @eddiemunsonsimpp @powerpuffedbjtch @sariahs-stuff @cciessuzi @lilyquinnmunson @julxsxx @kozume-ko @obsessed-eddie @doomdabss @leelei1980 @hexqueensupreme @ches-86 @plaidamoosette @bobiverses @meadows-of-asphodel @whitakerstorm @brrrainst3w @serendipdipity01 @hypersexytoptobottom @m-art000 @walleloveseve @camsmunson101 @flavorfullsteve @peachpuffs25 @micheledawn1975 @whitakerstorm @cciessuzi @blackqueenie-18 @ggdawgg @velvetdimond @enne02  @ludachrissy @izzycstairs @abbysleftbicepp @britttzy267 @ssculker @eddiemunsonsimpp @powerpuffedbjtch @kylorensbaby @raeyas-ghost @gunnersaurusrex @mortalselfprojected @lilyquinnmunson @this-issam @acrloved @foxygrll @ghoulishjewels @sespe08 @emily-robert @revesephemeres @laraabarett @kylorensbaby @fanficrebloggy @roxypixiechic @munsonsvixen

@fapqueen

@djoshairychest

Tonight, as usual, you waited for Eddie in his trailer to get back from another DnD campaign. It was usual between you two after dating for months now. If he had a DnD campaign he just gave you his keys and told you to make yourself at home at his trailer till he gets back. At first, he tried to convince you to join him and try DnD. And once you did. Because how could you say no to him when he was giving you puppy eyes. But it just didn't entertain you. That's how Eddie came up with this idea that you wait for him at his place.

So, here you were now, waiting for your boyfriend to get back. And he could walk in any minute now because he was always on time. Well, he was always on time when it came to you. Otherwise, he didn't care whether he was late or not.

This time was no different, he arrived the same time as he usually does after the DnD campaign. He walked through the door and shut it behind him. Then he walked into his room where he knew you're waiting for him.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart that I made you wait for so long" he apologized as he walked to his bed and crawled above you.

"It's okay" you whispered before you pressed your lips against his. The kiss started off slow and soft but then he deepened the kiss "I missed you" you whispered between kisses.

"I missed you too" he murmured against your lips and grinded his already hard cock against you which made you moan into the kiss.

You knew he's big. You were very aware of that. But feeling him pressed against you like that, just made you realize how big he is. It wouldn’t be your first time. And before, he gave you head multiple times. But for some reason he didn't let you return the favor. So, actually you never saw how big he is. But now, you felt it.

"Fuck..." a curse slipped from your lips.

"What's wrong, Sweetheart?" he asked as he started trailing kisses down your neck and his hands went under your shirt. Under your shirt which you actually stole from him.

"Nothing" you whispered as your breathing quickened when he started pushing up your shirt.

He saw you naked multiple times, but this felt different. For some reason you were nervous this time. Maybe because you know that this time there won't be any interruptions. Before whenever things get heated between you two, someone interrupted you two and killed the food. So, you never had proper sex with Eddie before.

He slowly removed your shirt then your panties, so you were laying in his bed, naked. He sat back on his heels and stared at you. His eyes roamed your body, and he licked his lips as he was admiring you.

"Fuck... you're so beautiful, Sweetheart" he complimented you and his words made your face heat up and your body felt hot.

He kept staring at you, unable to look away, which made you more and more nervous. Then he finally started removing his own clothes too. Once he got rid of his clothes too, you just stared at him. Your eyes roamed all over his body and stopped at his cock. You knew he's big. But didn't know that he was that big.

"Fuckk...." you cursed under your breath.

"See something you like?" he asked as he crawled above you again, supporting his weight on his forearms.

"You're big" you blurted out "It's not gonna fit"

"Don't worry, Sweetheart. I'll make it fit" he said then he leaned his head down pressing a kiss to your lips while one of his hands went between your legs "You're already so wet for me, sweetheart" he murmured when his fingers brushed your pussy. He teased your entrance with his fingers, then he slowly pushed two fingers inside you which made you gasp. He was scissoring his fingers, stretching you, preparing you for his much bigger cock. You were gripping the bedsheets as he was moving his fingers inside you, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot inside you.

You felt as orgasm started to build and you were getting closer and closer to the edge. The knot in your lower stomach tightened, ready to snap at any moment but then he stopped. He pulled his fingers out of you, and you whined in protest.

"Why did you stop?" you asked as you watched him lick his fingers clean "I was so close"

"I know, sweetheart. But tonight I want to make you cum on my cock, not on my fingers" he said in a low voice, and you bit your lower lip at his words "Are you ready, sweetheart?" he asked as he teased your wet entrance with his tip.

"Yeah" you said and then he slowly started to push inside you. He was going slow, letting you adjust to the slight burning feeling as he was stretching you. Once he was buried inside you to the hilt. He stopped and looked down at you.

"Are you okay, Sweetheart?" he asked softly.

"Yeah. Just... need a minute" you murmured, your eyes shut closed as you tried to adjust to his size.

"Tell me when I can move" he whispered before he pressed a kiss to your lips which made you relax even more. He kept kissing, distracting you from that little burning feeling.

"You can move" you murmured between kisses.

He hummed against your lips and started rocking his hips against yours. He was going slow at first, giving you time to get used to him. To the feeling of being filled so full. He kept kissing you to keep you distracted, which you appreciated. Your arms wrapped around his neck and one of your hands went into his hair.

"Faster... Please" you pleaded between kisses which earned a groan from him.

And who was he to deny you. He'd give you anything if you asked. So, he picked up the pace as you asked. Fucking you faster and harder which made you moan and pull his hair.

"Fuuck... Just like that, Eddie" you moaned which made him groan and he had to hide his face in the crook of your neck to muffle his sounds.

Hearing your moans was music to his ears, and it spurred him on even more. His hips was snapping against yours and his hands went to your thighs, lifting your legs up to wrap your legs around his waist. Your legs locked around his waist, and in this angle his cock hit new spots inside you. He reached deeper inside you, hitting that sweet spot inside you with every thrust.

The room was filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans and Eddie's muffed groans. Sweat was already forming on both of your bodies as you were getting closer to the edge.

"Eddie..." you gasped between moans.

"Yes, Sweetheart?" he murmured, his breathing heavy against your neck.

"I'm so close" you whimpered and you walls tightened around his cock as you get closer to the edge once again.

"I know, Sweetheart. I can feel it" he groaned and his cock twitched inside you. He kept thrusting into you in a fast space, chasing your and his own high.

"Eddie..." you screamed his name, and he had to cover your mouth with his hand, so his neighbors won't hear you. Now, your moans were muffled by his hand to keep you quiet.

After a few more thrust, the knot in your stomach snapped, your eyes rolled back and you walls clamped down around his cock as you came. And now, you were thankful that he was covering your mouth, otherwise you were sure that others would have hear you moan his name as you cummed. He still didn’t stop as he chased his own high, but his thrust became sloppier.

"Fuckk..." his groaned was muffled by your neck as he buried himself to the hilt inside you, his cock twitched and he spilled into you. He painted your walls white with his seeds. He collapsed on top of you but kept rocking his hips against yours, riding through both of your highs. He only stopped a few moments later but stayed buried inside you as your walls kept pulsing around his cock.

Both of you were breathing heavily, the room smelled like sweat and sex but neither of you cared. You stayed like that for a couple of minutes before he pulled out of you and rolled next to you.

"Are you okay, Sweetheart? I didn't hurt you, right?" he asked as turned to face you and you turned towards him too.

"No. I'm okay. This was amazing" you whispered, your voice a little hoarse from all the screaming and moaning.

"You were amazing, Sweetheart" he said as he reached up and brushed some hair back, that was sticking to your forehead "I love you, Sweetheart" he murmured as he leaned in for a kiss.

He straightened up and wiped his forearm across his brow, flashing you that shy, crooked smile- the same one he’d worn since you were fourteen and he was the weird kid in the back of the classroom with the loud music and the bigger heart than anyone ever gave him credit for. You’d never cared what anyone else said about him. Not once. And somewhere along the way, the two of you had fallen into this quiet, aching thing neither of you had ever named.

You felt it every time he looked at you too long. Every time his hand brushed yours and stayed. Every late night phone call that ended with both of you pretending you didn’t want to say more.

Now you were moving in together. Best friends. Roommates. What could go wrong?

The afternoon stretched out in cardboard and sweat and the low creak of furniture being dragged across old floors. Eddie did most of the heavy lifting without complaint, muscles shifting under that thin black tee every time he hoisted another box or piece of furniture. You handled the directions- where things went, how they should be angled, what came next.

And that’s when you started to notice.

It began small.

“Eddie, grab the box labeled ‘kitchen’ and put it on the counter for me?”

He was already moving before you finished the sentence. “On it.” He set it down carefully, then looked back at you, waiting.

You tilted your head. “A little more to the left. Yeah… there. Good.”

His ears went pink. He swallowed, throat working, and shifted his weight from one combat boot to the other. One hand dropped casually in front of his jeans, adjusting. You caught the motion but didn’t think much of it. Heat. Heavy lifting. Normal.

Then came the bookshelf.

“Slide it against the far wall,” you said, stepping back to watch. “All the way. A little more. Right there- perfect.”

Eddie did exactly as you told him, long fingers gripping the sides, rings flashing as he pushed. When it was in place he stayed bent over for a second, breathing harder than the effort really called for. When he stood, his cheeks were flushed dark, and the front of his ripped black jeans… wasn’t lying flat anymore.

Your stomach flipped.

You tested it again with the couch, voice steady even as your pulse started to climb.

“Grab that end. On three- lift. Good. Now back it up slow. Stop. Angle it a little to your left. Yeah. Push it in more. Right there.”

Every word landed like a touch. Eddie followed them like gospel, grunting softly with effort, but there was something else in the sound now- something tight and needy. When the couch was finally in place he stayed bent over it longer than necessary, head down, curls hiding his face. When he straightened, the bulge in his jeans was unmistakable. Thick. Obvious. Pressing hard against the worn denim.

He turned slightly, trying to angle his body away from you, but it was too late. You’d seen.

Your own body answered before your brain could catch up- heat pooling low and heavy between your legs, nipples tightening under your thin tank top, a slick throb that had nothing to do with the temperature outside.

Holy shit.

He was getting hard from this. From you telling him what to do. From following your directions like they were the only thing that mattered.

You kept going, voice a little lower now, curious. Testing.

“Bedroom next. Help me with the mattress. Center it on the frame. Make sure it’s straight.”

Eddie nodded fast- too fast- and disappeared into the small bedroom. You followed, leaning in the doorway as he wrestled the heavy mattress into place. Every adjustment you called out made his movements sharper, more focused.

“A little higher on the left. Shift it toward the headboard. There. Good.”

His breathing was ragged. When he glanced at you across the bed, his pupils were blown wide, dark eyes flicking down to your mouth and back up like he couldn’t help it. You watched the way his hands trembled just slightly when he tucked the fitted sheet at your instruction.

“Tighter on your side. Yeah. Pull it firm. Perfect.”

The word perfect made him shudder. Actually shudder. He bit his full bottom lip hard enough to leave a mark and kept his eyes on the mattress like it was the only safe thing in the room.

You stepped closer to help with the top sheet, both of you on opposite sides of the bed. The space felt smaller suddenly. Hotter. Every time your hands brushed his across the fabric, electricity snapped between you.

Eddie’s voice came out hoarse. “Like this?”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Just like that.”

He made a small, broken sound- half groan, half something else- and quickly turned away again, but not before you caught the way his cock twitched visibly in his jeans.

The air between you was thick now. Charged. All those years of careful distance, of pretending the feelings weren’t there, and one afternoon of moving furniture had cracked it wide open. You could see it in the way he kept stealing glances at you, in the flush that had spread down his neck and under the collar of his tee, in the way he was failing to hide how turned on he was by every single direction that left your mouth.

You felt it too. The power of it. The way he responded to your voice like it was touching him. The old ache in your chest had twisted into something hotter, hungrier.

Eddie ran both hands through his curls, messing them up worse, and let out a shaky laugh that didn’t quite cover the roughness in his throat.

“So… uh. What’s next, boss?”

The word boss landed heavy between you. His eyes met yours across the half-made bed- dark, nervous, and so fucking turned on it made your knees feel weak.

You smiled slowly, heart hammering against your ribs.

This was only the first day.

And you were both already in trouble.

A couple of weeks had slipped by in that easy, familiar rhythm you and Eddie had always had- except for one very specific, very new pattern.

Every time you asked him for anything- “Eddie, can you pass me the remote?” “Hey, can you grab the mail on your way in?” “Would you mind moving that speaker?”- he did it instantly. No eye-rolls, no teasing, just that quick nod and a soft “Yeah, of course,” like your voice flipped a switch in him. And every single time, you watched the same thing happen- the tips of his ears going pink, the way he’d bite the inside of his cheek, the subtle shift of his hips like he was trying to hide exactly how much he liked being told what to do.

You hadn’t talked about it. Not yet. But it was there, humming under everything like a live wire.

Tonight the apartment was loud with laughter and the low thrum of music from Eddie’s old stereo. The whole crew had crammed in- Robin sprawled across the armchair with her legs dangling over the side, Steve and Nancy sharing the couch with Jonathan perched on the armrest next to her, Gareth and Jeff taking up the floor with a half-finished game of cards and a growing pile of bottle caps between them. Empty beer bottles and a couple of takeout containers littered the coffee table. It felt good. Lived-in. Like home.

Eddie was in the kitchen grabbing another round when you called out from your spot on the couch, voice easy and casual.

“Eddie? Can you grab me another beer while you’re in there?”

The effect was instant.

He froze for half a second, back to the group, then turned with that same eager little nod he’d been giving you for weeks now. “Yeah. Yeah, got it.”

When he came back a moment later, bottle in hand, his cheeks were flushed a warm, obvious pink that had nothing to do with the alcohol. His curls were a little messy from running his hands through them, and he wouldn’t quite meet your eyes as he handed the beer over- but the second your fingers brushed his, you felt the tiny tremor that ran through him.

Robin clocked it immediately.

She sat up straighter in the armchair, squinting at Eddie with a wicked little grin spreading across her face.

“Whoa, hold up.” She pointed the neck of her bottle at him. “Munson. Are you blushing right now?”

The room went quiet for half a beat, then erupted in laughter.

Eddie’s ears went from pink to full-on red. He rubbed the back of his neck, trying for his usual cocky smirk and missing by a mile. “What? No. It’s hot in here. You guys are like a bunch of space heaters.”

“Uh-huh.” Steve leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyebrows raised in pure delight. “Sure, man. That’s why you practically sprinted to the fridge the second she asked. Real subtle.”

Gareth snorted into his drink. “Dude’s got it bad. We’ve been saying it for years.”

Jeff just shook his head, grinning. “Told you living together would break him.”

Nancy was smiling behind her hand, Jonathan chuckling quietly beside her. Robin, though- Robin was relentless, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“I’m just saying,” she continued, waving her bottle for emphasis, “I’ve known Eddie Munson since high school and I have never seen him move that fast for anyone. Not even when there’s free pizza involved. But you ask for a beer and suddenly he’s the Flash with a savior complex.”

Eddie dropped onto the arm of the couch next to you- close enough that his thigh pressed warm against your shoulder- and tried to hide behind his own bottle. “You’re all assholes,” he muttered, but there was no heat in it. Just that flustered, fond exasperation he only ever got around this group.

You took a slow sip of your beer, fighting your own smile. Under the table, your knee brushed his. He didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned into it a fraction, like he couldn’t help himself.

The teasing rolled on for another minute- Steve making whipped noises, Robin doing an exaggerated impression of Eddie’s eager nod- but it was all in good fun. The kind of ribbing that only happens when everyone already knows the truth and loves you both enough to say it out loud.

Still… there was something else in the air.

Every time you glanced at Eddie, he was already looking at you. Quick, heated little looks that he tried to play off as casual. His fingers kept drumming restlessly on his thigh, rings catching the low light. And when the laughter died down and the conversation drifted back to whatever story Gareth was telling, Eddie’s hand dropped- casual as anything- to rest on the back of the couch behind your head. Not quite touching you. But close enough that you could feel the warmth of his arm.

Robin caught that too. Her eyes flicked between the two of you, something knowing and a little softer in her expression now. She didn’t say anything else. Just raised her bottle in a tiny, private toast in your direction before turning back to the group.

The night kept going- more drinks, more stories, more laughter- but that underlying feeling never quite left. It sat low in your stomach every time Eddie shifted closer, every time he got up without you even asking to grab someone else a drink and still checked with you first, silent question in his eyes.

You need anything?

You didn’t say it out loud. But the way he kept looking at you said he already knew the answer.

And judging by the way his cheeks stayed faintly pink for the rest of the night, so did everyone else.

It was a completely normal night.

The apartment was dim, lit only by the blue glow of the TV and the little lamp in the corner you’d both forgotten to turn off. Some movie was playing- neither of you were really watching it anymore. You were curled up on one end of the couch in an oversized t-shirt and soft cotton shorts, legs tucked under a shared blanket. Eddie was on the other end, one arm slung along the back of the couch, wearing those loose gray sweatpants he always wore during lazy nights and a faded Dio tank top that had seen better days. His curls were messy from running his hands through them, and every so often his foot would nudge yours under the blanket like he couldn’t help staying connected.

It felt easy. Like it had always been meant to be this way.

You shifted, stretching your arms above your head with a quiet groan. “God, I’m thirsty. My mouth is so dry.”

Eddie didn’t even hesitate.

He was up and moving before the words had fully left your mouth, blanket sliding off his lap as he padded into the kitchen. You heard the fridge open, the clink of ice, the sound of water pouring. Thirty seconds later he was back, handing you a glass without a word- just that same quiet, eager look he’d been wearing for weeks now every time you asked for anything.

You took it, fingers brushing his. “Thanks.”

He dropped back onto the couch, closer this time. The movie kept playing, forgotten.

You took a slow sip, then set the glass on the coffee table. When you looked at him again, something warm and reckless settled in your chest.

“Good boy.”

The words left your mouth soft and deliberate.

Eddie froze.

A full-body flush ripped through him so fast you could see it- starting at his ears, flooding down his neck and across his chest where the tank top didn’t cover. His lips parted on a sharp, shaky inhale. And then you saw it- the way his cock twitched hard and obvious against the thin gray fabric of his sweatpants, thickening right there in front of you, the outline growing thick and heavy in seconds.

He made a small, helpless sound and pulled the blanket to his lap like he could hide it. Too late. You’d already seen the way he was getting hard just from those two words.

His breathing had gone ragged. He wouldn’t look at you, staring hard at the TV like it could save him, but his hips shifted restlessly and that flush kept spreading, down his throat, across his collarbones. The blanket was starting to tent now, and he was so visibly turned on it made heat pool low and aching between your own legs.

You didn’t look away.

Instead you leaned in a little, voice quieter but steady.

“Eddie.”

He swallowed hard. Still wouldn’t meet your eyes.

“Does me telling you what to do turn you on?”

The silence stretched. The movie kept playing in the background but it might as well have been on another planet.

Eddie’s hands clenched in the fabric of the blanket. His chest rose and fell too fast. You could see the war happening behind his eyes- the shyness, the years of keeping this locked down, the fear of ruining everything… and the way his body was betraying him completely.

Finally, he let out a shaky breath and nodded once, small and jerky.

“Yeah,” he whispered, voice rough and low. “It… it does.”

He still wouldn’t look at you, but the admission hung between you like a live wire. His cheeks were burning. His rings clicked together as his fingers twisted in the blanket.

You could see how much it cost him to say it out loud. How long he must’ve been carrying this.

But he said it.

The word hung in the air between you.

Eddie’s chest was still heaving, that deep flush permanently staining his skin. He looked wrecked already and you hadn't even touched him.

You didn’t let the silence stretch.

“Look at me.”

His eyes snapped up to yours instantly. Wide. Dark. Nervous and so fucking turned on you could feel your soaked pussy clinging to the fabric of your underwear.

You leaned in a little closer on the couch, voice low and steady.

“Say it again. Tell me the truth.”

Eddie swallowed hard. He shifted his hips like he was trying to get comfortable and only made it worse- his cock twitched visibly.

“I… yeah,” he rasped. “It turns me on. When you tell me what to do. It’s- fuck, it’s been like this for weeks.”

You tilted your head, studying him. The way his breath hitched every time your voice dropped.

“Since moving day?”

He nodded, quick and jerky. “Since before that, probably. But that day… when you were telling me where to put everything. How to move the couch. The bed.” His voice cracked a little. “Every time you said ‘good’ or ‘right there’ I got hard so fast I thought I was gonna lose it. I had to keep turning away so you wouldn’t see.”

A slow, pleased smile curved your mouth.

“Good boy.”

The effect was instant and devastating.

Eddie let out a broken little moan- quiet, like he couldn’t stop it- and his hips jerked. His cock twitched hard. His thighs trembled.

“Jesus Christ,” he whispered, voice wrecked. “You can’t just- say that. It’s too much.”

You ignored the protest, eyes locked on his.

“Take the blanket off your lap.”

He hesitated for half a second- just long enough for you to see the war in his eyes- then pushed it aside with shaking hands. Now there was nothing hiding him. The thick line of his cock was on full display, straining against the soft fabric, the head pressing insistently against it. He was so hard it had to hurt.

You let your gaze drag over him slowly, then met his eyes again.

“Tell me more. How long have you wanted me to talk to you like this?”

Eddie’s hands flexed on his thighs. He looked like he wanted to hide his face but couldn’t stop staring at you.

“Since… since we were kids, I think,” he admitted, voice low and shaky. “Not like this exactly. But I always liked when you bossed me around a little. When you told me what to do. It made me feel… safe. And then it started turning me on and I didn’t know what to do with it.” He laughed once, breathless and embarrassed. “I thought I was gonna ruin everything if I ever said anything. So I just… kept it quiet. But then we moved in and you kept giving me directions and I couldn’t hide it anymore.”

You reached out slowly and rested your hand on his knee. Just that. Nothing more. He still jolted like you’d touched him somewhere much more sensitive.

“Does it make you this hard every time?” you asked, voice soft but firm. “Every time I ask you for something?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. His cock twitched again at the question. “Every single time. Even when it’s small. Like getting you water or moving something. My brain just… goes quiet and all I can think about is being good for you. Making you happy.” His cheeks burned darker. “And then I get so turned on I can’t think straight.”

You squeezed his knee gently.

“Spread your legs a little.”

He did it without hesitation this time, thighs parting on the couch. The movement made his cock shift and strain even more obviously. The wet spot was bigger now.

You let the silence sit for a moment, just watching him squirm under your gaze, breathing hard, curls falling into his eyes.

Then you asked the next question, quiet and direct.

“Do you want me to keep telling you what to do, Eddie?”

His answer came out in a rush, like he couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“Yes. Fuck, yes. I want it so bad.” His voice cracked again. “I’ve been going crazy. Every time you say my name in that voice I get hard. Every time you tell me ‘good boy’ I feel like I’m gonna come in my fucking pants. I don’t even care how pathetic that sounds. I just- I like it. I like being yours like that.”

He was panting now. His hands had moved to grip the couch cushions on either side of his hips, like he was physically holding himself back from touching.

You could see how close he was already- just from talking, from obeying, from finally being honest.

The movie kept playing, forgotten.

The only thing that mattered was the way Eddie was looking at you now- desperate, flushed, hard and leaking and completely at your mercy.

And the way his voice dropped even lower when he spoke again.

“…What do you want me to do?”

You let the question hang for a moment, watching the way Eddie’s chest heaved and his cock throbbed visibly against the damp front of his sweatpants. He was already a mess- curls wild, cheeks flushed dark, lips parted around shaky breaths- and you hadn’t even touched him.

You leaned back against the arm of the couch, getting comfortable, and let your voice drop into that same calm, commanding tone that made his whole body react.

“Take your cock out.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. For a second he just stared at you, breathing hard, like he needed to make sure he’d heard you right. Then his hands moved- trembling- and he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his sweatpants and pushed them down just enough. His cock sprang free, thick and long, already leaking steadily from the slit. It curved up toward his stomach, twitching the second the cool air hit it.

He didn’t cover himself. Just sat there, exposed, waiting for your next word like it was the only thing keeping him together.

You let your gaze drag over him slowly, then met his eyes again.

“Stroke it. Slow. And while you do, tell me what you’ve been thinking about. Every filthy thought you’ve had.”

Eddie wrapped his hand around himself with a shaky groan. The first slow stroke made his hips jerk and a thick bead of precum spill over his fingers. He started talking, voice rough and broken.

“I- fuck- I think about you telling me what to do all the time,” he admitted, eyes locked on yours like you’d ordered him to keep them there. “Every morning when you ask me to make coffee. Every time you tell me to grab something from the top shelf. I get hard in the middle of the fucking day just remembering your voice.” His hand moved in slow, desperate strokes, precum making everything slick. “I’ve jerked off in the shower thinking about you calling me good boy. About you making me kneel while you tell me exactly how you want me to touch you. About-”

He cut off with a whimper when you spoke again.

“Faster.”

He obeyed instantly, hand speeding up. His thighs were shaking now.

“Keep going,” you said. “Tell me more.”

Eddie’s head tipped back for a second before he forced himself to look at you again. His voice was wrecked.

“I think about you using me,” he confessed, the words tumbling out like he couldn’t stop them now. “Not just for sex. For everything. I want you to tell me how to make you feel good. I want to be the one who knows exactly what you need before you even ask. I’ve been going crazy wanting to take care of you like that. And the dirtier it gets the more I-” His hand stuttered on a particularly hard stroke and he moaned. “The more I like it. I want you to own me with your voice. I want you to ruin me with it.”

You watched him fall apart for a few more seconds- the way his stomach clenched, the way more precum drooled deliciously from the head of his cock, the way he was clearly fighting not to come just from talking and obeying.

Then you gave the next command.

“Stop touching yourself.”

Eddie whined- actually whined- but his hand froze immediately, gripping the base of his cock like he was physically holding himself back. His whole body was trembling.

“Please,” he breathed, voice cracking. “Please, I need- I need to make you feel good. Let me. I’ll do anything you want. I’ll use my mouth, my hands, whatever you tell me. Just- fuck, just let me take care of you. I’ve been dying to. Every night I’ve laid in my bed thinking about how good you’d sound if I was between your legs doing exactly what you told me to do.”

He was panting now, eyes glassy and desperate, cock still twitching and leaking untouched against his stomach.

“I want to be good for you,” he whispered, raw and honest. “I want to make you come so many times you forget your own name. I want you to tell me how. I want you to use me until you’re satisfied. Please. Please let me make you feel good. I’ll beg if you want me to. I’ll get on my knees right now. Just say the word.”

His voice broke on the last word. He looked completely wrecked and still waiting for your next command like it was the only thing that mattered.

The movie had long since ended. The apartment was quiet except for his ragged breathing and the low thrum of whatever was playing on the TV now.

Eddie swallowed hard, eyes never leaving yours.

You let the silence stretch, watching him tremble and leak and beg.

Then you spoke again, calm and clear.

“Get on your knees on the floor. Right in front of me.”

Eddie moved like the command was the only thing holding him together. He let go of his cock- it slapped wetly against his stomach- and slid off the couch. The rug was soft but still rough enough that you heard the quiet thud of his knees hitting it. He winced a little at the impact but didn’t complain. Now he was kneeling between your spread legs, looking up at you with those wrecked, hopeful eyes. His cock hung heavy and flushed between his thighs, still dripping onto the rug in little shiny droplets. The position made it hang lower, the head shiny and wet, a thin string of precum connecting it to the floor.

He was breathing through his mouth, lips parted, curls messy and damp.

“I’m here,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I’m on my knees for you. Tell me what to do. Please. I’ll be so good.”

His hands rested on his own thighs, rings glinting, fingers twitching with the effort of not reaching for you. His cock twitched every time you shifted even slightly. The smell of his arousal was stronger now, thick in the air between you.

You could feel your own body answering- the hot, slick ache between your legs, the way your shorts were sticking to you.

Eddie swallowed again, eyes flicking down to your lap and back up.

You reached down and ran your fingers through his hair once, slow and possessive, before gripping it lightly and tilting his head back so he had to look at you.

“Listen carefully,” you said, voice low and steady. “I’m going to tell you exactly how I want your mouth.”

He shivered, a soft whine escaping before he could stop it.

“Start over my shorts,” you continued. “Use your tongue flat and slow. I want to feel the heat of your mouth and the wet drag of your tongue through the fabric. Press in enough that I can feel it on my clit. Suck gently- not hard, just enough to pull the cloth against me. I want to feel how soaked the shorts are getting from your mouth and from me.”

Eddie’s breath hitched. His cock twitched hard, a fresh string of precum dripping from the tip onto the rug.

“Yes,” he whispered, already leaning in. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be good.”

He pressed his face between your thighs. The first touch of his tongue was hot and wet even through the thin cotton of your shorts. He dragged it slow and flat from bottom to top, exactly like you told him, the fabric growing darker and slicker with every pass. You could feel the heat of his mouth, the pressure of his tongue pushing the damp cloth against your clit, the way he sealed his lips and sucked gently- soft, rhythmic pulls that made the wet fabric cling and rub in the most teasing way.

A low, desperate moan vibrated against you. He was already lost in it.

You kept your hand in his hair, guiding him.

“Again. Slower. I want to feel every inch of your tongue.”

He obeyed instantly, tongue flattening and dragging with deliberate pressure. The wet sounds were filthy- the slick drag of fabric, the soft suck of his mouth, his own quiet whimpers. Your shorts were soaked now, both from his spit and the growing wetness between your legs. Every time he sucked, you felt it pull against your swollen clit.

Eddie’s hips were rocking helplessly in the air, his neglected cock bobbing and leaking. You could hear how worked up he was- the shaky exhales through his nose, the way his fingers flexed and clenched on his own thighs because you hadn’t told him he could touch you yet.

After a minute of that slow, torturous attention, he pulled back just enough to speak, voice hoarse and wrecked against your inner thigh.

“Please,” he begged, lips shiny and wet. “Please let me pull them down. Or to the side. I need- I need to taste you for real. It’s not enough. I can smell how wet you are and it’s driving me crazy. Please. I’ll still do it exactly how you say, I swear. Just let me feel your skin on my tongue. Please.”

You let him beg for another long moment, watching him tremble and leak and nuzzle desperately against the soaked fabric.

Then you gave the next command.

“Pull my shorts to the side. Now.”

His hands shook as he reached up, fingers careful as he hooked the fabric and tugged it aside, exposing you completely. The cool air hit your slick folds for only a second before his mouth was on you- hot, eager, and so fucking grateful.

A broken, overwhelmed sound tore out of him the second his tongue touched bare skin. He licked a long, slow stripe from your entrance up to your clit, tasting you properly for the first time. His moan was deep and filthy, vibrating right against you.

“Fuck- you taste so good,” he gasped against your pussy, voice thick with tears and arousal. “Thank you. Thank you for letting me- oh my god-”

You tightened your grip in his hair.

“Slow circles on my clit. Then suck. Exactly like before, but now on my skin.”

He followed every word like it was gospel. His tongue moved in slow, firm circles exactly where you wanted, then sealed his lips around your clit and sucked with that same gentle, rhythmic pressure. The wet sounds were louder now- the obscene slick of his tongue, the soft suction, his own desperate little moans. His face was already messy, chin and lips shiny with you. Every time he sucked, you felt the pull all the way through your body.

He kept thanking you between licks, voice muffled and worshipful.

“Thank you- thank you for letting me taste you- you’re so wet- so fucking sweet- please tell me if I’m doing it right- I’ll do it better- I’ll do anything-”

You could feel the orgasm building fast- the tight coil low in your belly, the way your thighs started to tremble around his head, the way his tongue and the filthy wet sounds and his desperate gratitude were pushing you right to the edge.

When it hit, it crashed hard.

Your back arched off the couch as you came, a gush of wetness flooding his mouth. You squirted against his tongue and lips, the hot rush of it making him moan so loudly it vibrated through your whole body. He didn’t pull away-  if anything he pressed closer, licking and swallowing like he was starving for it, messy and grateful and overwhelmed.

“Thank you- thank you- fuck, thank you-” he kept chanting between frantic licks, voice cracking, tears slipping down his cheeks as he drank you down. “Thank you for letting me have it- for letting me taste you when you come- you’re so good to me- thank you, thank you, thank you-”

He kept licking through it, slower now, gentle and reverent, cleaning you up with soft strokes of his tongue while he murmured broken thanks against your sensitive skin. His face was completely soaked, chin dripping, curls sticking to your thighs. His cock was still untouched and leaking steadily onto the rug, twitching every time you pulsed against his mouth.

Eventually he rested his cheek against your inner thigh, breathing hard, eyes closed, lips shiny and swollen.

He looked completely wrecked.

And still he whispered, soft and hoarse against your skin,

“…Thank you. For letting me make you feel good. I’ll do it again whenever you want. Just tell me. I’m yours.”

His cock gave another helpless twitch, still hard and aching between his legs.

He didn’t ask for anything for himself.

He just stayed on his knees, waiting for your next word.

“You were such a good boy for me,” you said softly, fingers stroking through his hair. “You deserve a reward.”

Eddie’s breath caught. His cock gave a hard, visible twitch.

You stood, took his hand, and pulled him up. He followed instantly, legs a little unsteady. You guided him back onto the couch and pushed gently at his chest until he was lying back against the cushions, legs spread, cock lying heavy and wet against his stomach. The tank top was rucked up under his arms, exposing his flushed chest and the rapid rise and fall of it.

You climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. You were still soaked- your own arousal and his spit making everything slick. You reached down, wrapped your hand around his cock, and lined him up. Then you sank down in one slow, smooth motion.

The stretch was perfect. He was so hard, so hot, and he’d been leaking for so long that he slid in easily, but the tight, wet heat of you still punched the air out of his lungs.

“Oh- fuck- oh my god-” Eddie’s head slammed back against the couch. His hands flew to your hips, fingers digging in, rings pressing into your skin. “You’re so wet- so fucking tight- I can feel everything- thank you- fuck sweetheart- ”

You started to move.

Slow rolls of your hips at first, grinding down so your clit dragged against him with every pass. The wet sounds were shameless- the slick slide of you riding him, the filthy squelch every time you sank down. His cock was twitching inside you already, pulsing like it was trying to come from the first stroke.

Eddie was gone.

“You feel so good- I’m not gonna last- I’m sorry- I’m so sorry but you’re so warm and wet and I’ve been so hard for so long-” His voice was already cracking, words tumbling out between broken moans. “Thank you for using me- you’re so perfect- I love how you feel around me- I love being inside you- please don’t stop- please- I’ll be good- I’ll be your good boy-”

You picked up the pace, bouncing on him now, the couch creaking under you. Every time you dropped down he made the most desperate, overwhelmed sounds- high little whimpers and shaky gasps. His hands were shaking on your hips. Sweat was rolling down his temples and chest. His curls were a wild mess against the cushion.

“I can feel you clenching- fuck- you’re gonna make me come- I’m trying to hold it- I’m trying so hard but you feel too good-” His eyes were glassy, unfocused, locked on where you were joined. “You’re dripping down my cock- I can feel it- thank you for letting me have this- I’ll give you everything- anything you want-”

You could feel him throbbing harder, getting closer with every roll of your hips. His stomach was clenching, thighs shaking beneath you. He was babbling nonstop now, voice hoarse and breaking.

“I love you- I love being yours like this- I love when you use me- when you tell me what to do- when you ride me like I’m just here for you to feel good on- thank you- thank you for my reward- thank you for letting me come- I’m gonna- ah- I’m gonna-”

He came with a broken, sobbing moan, hips jerking up helplessly as he spilled deep inside you. Thick pulses of come flooded you, hot and endless, while he kept babbling through it, voice cracking and wet.

“Thank you- thank you- oh fuck- thank you for letting me come inside you- I’m still coming- I can’t stop- you feel too good- I love you- I love you so much-”

His whole body was shaking beneath you, eyes squeezed shut, tears slipping from the corners as the orgasm ripped through him. He kept twitching and pulsing inside you long after he should have stopped, overstimulated and overwhelmed, still whispering ragged thanks against your skin.

When it finally eased, he went boneless under you, chest heaving, face flushed and tear-streaked, lips parted around shaky breaths. His cock was still half-hard inside you, sensitive and twitching with every tiny movement you made.

Eddie looked completely wrecked.

And you loved every second of it.

You leaned down, kissed the tears off his cheek, and whispered against his mouth,

“Good boy.”

He whimpered again, soft and broken, and nuzzled into your hand like he could live there forever.

You stayed on top of him for a long moment, both of you breathing hard, his cock still twitching weakly inside you as the last aftershocks rolled through him. His come was already starting to leak out around where you were joined, warm and slick, making everything messy between your thighs. Eddie’s hands were still loosely gripping your hips, but his grip had gone soft and shaky.

You leaned down and kissed his forehead, then the corner of his eye where a tear had slipped free.

“Shh… I’ve got you,” you whispered.

Carefully, you lifted off him. He made a small, broken sound at the loss, but you didn’t go far. You grabbed the soft throw blanket from the back of the couch and guided him to lie down properly, then crawled in beside him, pulling the blanket over both of you. The couch was narrow, so you ended up half on top of him anyway- your head on his chest, one leg thrown over his, your hand resting right over his racing heart.

Eddie immediately curled into you like he was afraid you’d disappear. His arms came around you, strong but trembling, and he buried his face in your hair. You could feel how hard he was still breathing, the rapid thump of his heart under your cheek, the way little aftershocks kept making his stomach jump.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You just held him. Your fingers stroked slowly through his damp curls, untangling them gently. You traced the shell of his ear, the line of his jaw, the sweat cooling on his neck. Every so often you pressed a soft kiss to his chest, right over his heart.

Eventually his breathing started to slow. His grip on you loosened from desperate to something softer, more trusting.

You felt him swallow before he whispered, voice hoarse and small against your hair,

“…I’ve been in love with you since we were fifteen.”

The words came out shaky, like he’d been holding them in for years and they were finally too heavy to keep.

You lifted your head just enough to look at him. His eyes were red-rimmed, lashes still wet, but he met your gaze without looking away.

“I used to tell myself it was just a crush,” he continued, barely above a whisper. “That it would go away. But it never did. Every time you smiled at me like I wasn’t the weird kid… every time you let me ramble about stupid shit no one else cared about… I fell a little harder. And then we moved in here and you started telling me what to do and it felt like something in my brain just… clicked. Like I’d been waiting my whole life for you to take control and I didn’t even know it.”

His voice cracked. He pressed his face into your neck for a second, breathing you in.

“I was so scared I’d ruin everything if I said anything. That you’d think I was gross or pathetic for wanting you to boss me around. For wanting to be good for you like that.” He let out a wet little laugh. “Turns out I’m both of those things and you still let me have you. I don’t know what I did to deserve that.”

You tightened your arms around him, one hand sliding down to rest on the small of his back, skin warm and damp under your palm.

“You’ve always been good for me, Eddie,” you whispered back. “Even before tonight. You’ve been my best friend. My safe place. And tonight…” You kissed the corner of his mouth, soft and slow. “Tonight you were perfect. I loved every second of it.”

He made a soft, overwhelmed sound and tucked his face into your neck again. You felt him press a shaky kiss there.

“I want this,” he whispered. “All of it. The bossing me around. The making me come so hard I cry. The holding me after. I want to be yours like this. Not just tonight. I want… I want to keep being your good boy. If you’ll have me.”

You pulled back just far enough to cup his face, thumbs brushing away the fresh tears that had slipped free. His eyes were so open, so vulnerable, it made your chest ache in the best way.

“I want that too,” you told him, voice steady and sure. “I’ve wanted you for a long time, Eddie. Life with you is easy. This- this is easy. The way you fall apart when I tell you what to do. The way you look at me like I hung the fucking moon when I call you good boy.” You smiled, soft and a little teasing. “I love taking care of you. I love that you trust me enough to let go like that.”

He let out a shaky breath that sounded like relief and pressed his forehead to yours.

“I trust you with everything,” he whispered. “Always have.”

You stayed like that for a long time- tangled under the blanket, skin cooling, hearts slowing down together. Every so often one of you would murmur something soft. You told him how beautiful he looked when he came, how proud you were of him for being so honest. He told you how safe he felt in your hands, how he’d never felt anything like this with anyone else, how he wanted to learn exactly what you liked so he could be even better for you.

At some point you got up just long enough to grab a warm, damp cloth from the bathroom. You cleaned him gently- between his legs, the mess on his stomach, the tear tracks on his face- while he watched you with soft, sleepy eyes. Then you cleaned yourself and climbed right back into his arms.

He pulled the blanket tighter around both of you and tucked your head under his chin.

“Can we stay like this for a while?” he asked quietly. “Just… hold each other? I don’t think I’m ready to move yet.”

You smiled against his chest.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “We can stay right here as long as you want.”

His arms tightened around you. One of his hands found yours under the blanket and laced your fingers together.

“I love you,” he said again, even softer this time, like a secret just for the two of you.

You squeezed his hand and pressed a kiss right over his heart.

“I love you too, Eddie.”

yes theres going to be more of these two hehe

He crossed the space in three long strides and pulled you straight into his chest without a word. His arms wrapped around you tight enough that your feet almost left the ground. You felt the frantic thump of his heart against your cheek.

“I’m gonna throw up,” he mumbled into your hair, voice half-laugh, half-terror. “I’m actually gonna puke on the stage of Madison fucking Square Garden. They’re gonna have to put up a little plaque. ‘Here lies Eddie Munson’s dignity, died 1994.’”

You laughed quietly and rubbed slow circles between his shoulder blades. “You’re not gonna puke. You’re gonna go out there and remind every single person in this building why they fell in love with Corroded Coffin in the first place.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you. Those big brown eyes were glassy with adrenaline and pent up emotion.

“Sweetheart… what if I forget the words? What if I trip over my own goddamn cables like I did at the Hideout in ’86? You remember that? You were sitting right in front with that glitter sign and I almost took myself out in front of like twelve people—”

“Eddie.” You cupped his face in both hands, thumbs brushing over the faint scar on his cheek from years ago. “That night you still made every single person in that bar feel like they were the only one in the room. And tonight? There’s gonna be a hell of a lot more of them, and every single damn one is gonna feel exactly the same way. Because you’re you. And I’m gonna be right here the whole time, losing my voice cheering for you and the boys.”

A shaky laugh escaped him. He leaned down and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes fluttering shut for a second like he was breathing you in.

“Still can’t believe you’re here,” he whispered. “After everything. After Hawkins, after all that fuckin' bullshit. Every shitty motel and every late-night drive where I swore I was gonna give up… you’re still my girl. My biggest fan. My home.”

You rose on your toes and kissed him — soft, slow, the kind of kiss that said I’ve got you without needing any words. When you pulled back, you tucked a stray curl behind his ear.

“Go be a rockstar, Munson. I’ll be right here screaming your name louder than anyone.”

The stage manager’s voice crackled over the comms. “Two minutes!”

Eddie took one last deep breath, then grabbed your hand and squeezed it hard enough to hurt a little. “Don’t move from this spot, okay? I need to be able to look over and see you. It’s the only thing that’s gonna keep me from combusting.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised.

He started to turn, guitar already in his hands, then spun back one more time. That crooked, devastating grin broke across his face — the same one he’d given you the first time he’d asked you out with a mixtape and a nervous ramble about how you were “like, the coolest person in this entire hellhole town.”

“Love you more than metal, baby.”

“Love you more than anything,” you answered, voice thick.

You blew him a kiss and caught it dramatically against his chest like he always did, then jogged out to join the rest of the band. You watched him go with your heart so full it almost hurt.

The lights dropped.

The crowd’s roar hit like a physical wave.

You stepped right up to the edge of the wing, heart hammering, and started screaming at the top of your lungs the second the first chord rang out. Eddie strode into the spotlight like he was born for it — head thrown back, grin wild and free, every inch the rockstar he’d always dreamed of being.

But even in the middle of the chaos, even with thousands of people losing their minds, his eyes flicked sideways.

Found you.

And the nervous wreck from five minutes ago disappeared completely.

Because you were there.

Just like you always had been.

Just like you always would be.

The final chord rang out like a gunshot, and the entire arena exploded.

Eddie threw his head back, laughing into the mic as the crowd screamed his name — their name — loud enough to shake the foundations of Madison Square Garden. The band took their bows together, sweaty and grinning like idiots, pyrotechnics still flickering behind them. Eddie waved one last time, blew a kiss toward the sea of lights, and then turned.

The second his eyes found you waiting in the wings, something in him broke wide open.

He didn’t walk offstage. He stumbled.

The adrenaline that had carried him through two hours of pure fire hit him all at once on the way down. His legs went a little unsteady, guitar still slung across his back, curls sticking to his damp forehead. The second he was close enough, he let go of everything — the persona, the rockstar swagger, the years of holding it together — and collapsed straight into your arms.

You caught him.

You'd always catch him.

Your arms came up automatically, one hand sliding up his back, the other cradling the back of his head as he buried his face in the curve of your neck like he was trying to disappear into you. His whole body was shaking. Not from exhaustion. From everything.

Happy tears were already soaking into the collar of your shirt.

The rest of the band saw it immediately. Gareth gave a soft nod and started gently herding people away. Jeff clapped a hand on one of the crew’s shoulders and murmured, “Give them space, man. Just… give them a minute.” Even the stage manager, who usually lived off of telling the band what to do, quietly redirected traffic so the little pocket of space around you stayed clear. No one stared. No one interrupted. They all knew what this moment meant.

Eddie let out a shaky, broken sound against your skin — half laugh, half sob.

“I did it,” he whispered, voice cracking. “We actually fucking did it. Madison Square Garden. Sold out. And you were right there the whole time. I kept looking over and you were screaming your head off for me and I just— baby, I can’t—”

His arms tightened around you like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go. You felt every tremor run through him, felt the way his chest hitched with the force of holding back years of dreams that had finally, finally come true.

You didn’t rush him. You just held on, rocking the two of you gently side to side like you had a hundred times before — in the van after bad gigs, in your tiny apartment after good ones, in the quiet after every storm you’d weathered together since high school.

“It’s okay, baby,” you murmured against his ear, your own voice thick with emotion. “Let it all out. I’ve got you. I’m right here.”

That was all it took.

Eddie let go completely.

A quiet, overwhelmed sob escaped him as he pressed his face harder into your neck, shoulders shaking. Happy tears kept coming — not the kind that hurt, but the kind that felt like years of pressure finally releasing. You stroked his damp curls with one hand and rubbed slow, soothing circles between his shoulder blades with the other, whispering soft things only he could hear.

“You were incredible out there. I’m so proud of you I can barely breathe. You and the boys… you turned every late night, every shitty bar, every time someone told you it would never happen… you turned all of it into this. And I got to watch it happen. I'm so fucking proud of you baby.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes glassy and red-rimmed, cheeks streaked with tears, but smiling so wide and bright it made your chest ache. The leather jacket was half-off one shoulder, his tank top clinging to him with sweat, and he had never looked more beautiful to you.

“I kept thinking the whole time,” he said, voice hoarse and raw, “that none of this would mean shit if you weren’t here. You’ve been with me since I was just some freak with a guitar and a dream in Hawkins. And you’re still here. Still looking at me like I'm your universe even when I'm a fucking disaster.”

You reached up and gently wiped his tears with your thumbs, then leaned in and kissed the corner of his mouth, soft and lingering.

“Because you are my universe, Eddie Munson. Always have been. The loud, dramatic, beautiful center of my whole galaxy. And tonight? You proved to everyone else what I’ve always known.”

He let out a wet little laugh and rested his forehead against yours, breathing you in like you were the only steady thing in the universe right now.

“I love you,” he whispered. “So much it’s stupid. Thank you for never letting go of me.”

“I love you too,” you answered, brushing another kiss across his lips. “And I’m never letting go. Why would I let go of the best thing thats ever happened to me?”

For a long minute you just stood there together ignoring the existence of anyone else but each other — him still trembling with leftover adrenaline and overwhelming joy, you holding him steady like you always had. The distant roar of the crowd still chanting for an encore faded into background noise. The only thing that mattered was the way he clung to you and the way you clung right back.

Eventually Eddie let out a long, shaky breath and nuzzled into your hair.

“Lets go somewhere quiet after this?” he asked softly. “Just us. I wanna be in bed with my girl and cry some more and then probably pass out on top of you.”

You smiled against his temple and tightened your arms around him one more time.

“Anywhere you want, rockstar. I’m yours.”

He pulled back just far enough to give you that crooked, tear-streaked grin you’d fallen in love with all those years ago.

“Best night of my life,” he said. “Because you were in it.”

────────

“C’mon, baby. Say it. I know you fucking want to.”

He slams his hips into you hard and fast, his pace relentless as he was fucking you so hard and deep that you were practically drooling onto his bedsheets.

“Fucking. Say. It.” He demanded, wrapping his right hand around the chain link of the handcuffs he had around your wrists- pinning your arms behind your back. Once he grips it, he begins to yank the chain towards him- using it to pull you back onto his cock.

“Oh- oh my god!” You gasp, your mouth dry and hoarse from moaning and crying out underneath him. But he didn’t care. Eddie was going to continue using and abusing your tight, wet cunt until you finally gave him what he wanted. Until he finally had ownership of you.

“Yeah?” He coos “That feel good? Taking me nice and deep in that pussy? Of course it does, sweetheart. Don’t know why I even ask. As if you’re not too cock-drunk and fucked out to answer me anyway, right? Fucking you so stupid that you can barely even form a sentence.”

“Eddie!” You squeal as he begins to hit a new spot inside of you that had your eyes rolling into your skull.

“You come over here every other day begging to get dicked down but you don’t wanna be my girl? What’s that about, huh?” He tsks “Answer me, you fucking brat.”

“N-no!” You choke out, gasping for air as his hips clap against your ass hard enough to jolt you forward “I- oh shit!”

“You what?” He asks, yanking the cuff chain back far enough to have you arching your back, causing you to take his cock even deeper.

“Fuck!” You scream “I’m- oh fuuuuck. I’m scared, Eddie.”

“Scared of what, doll?” He asks, watching the way his cock disappeared into you over and over again. He never got sick of the sight. That’s why he needed you to say it so bad. He needed to lock you down. “Tell me what you’re scared of.”

“I-I don’t know.” You stammer, squeezing your eyes shut at the way that you could feel him in your fucking guts. The way he was fucking you was intense enough to make you cry. Almost bordering on too much.

“You scared that you’re going to realize that you need me? That you and I will be so fucking good together, baby?”

You try to focus on his words but you can’t help but realize how obscene the sounds were that your pussy was making as he fucked into you.

“Ohhh god!” You cry out.

“You feel how good that feels?” He asks “You could have this every day, baby. All you’ve gotta do is say it. Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you belong to me.”

Hearing him speak like that when he was balls deep in you was bringing you closer and closer to the edge. That delicious feeling of release. You wanted it bad. So bad.

“C’mon, sweetheart. Say it. You know you want to. You know I’d treat you good. Give it to you like this any time you wanted. Don’t you want that? Hm? My big fucking cock stretching you open and fucking you sore as much as you want? Anytime. Anywhere. Just say it, baby. Say it because I’m not gonna stop. Not until you’re mine. I’ll go all fucking night if I have to. If that’s what it takes.”

His words only serve to get you wetter. Hearing him tell you how much he wanted you was the ultimate turn on. The way he was taking you as if he already owned you. In a way, he already did. The only thing he had left to claim was your heart.

“You know I always get what I was, sweetness. I always do. And I want you. God, I want you. So, I’m gonna keep giving you this dick and making you fucking take it until you say it. Say it, baby. Fucking say it. Let me love you, baby. Let me take care of you.”

“I-It’s yours!” You choke out, whimpering into the bedsheets “My pussy’s yours.”

“No, baby.” Eddie tsks, shaking his head as he smacks your ass harshly- causing you to yell out. “That’s really nice of you, doll, but you know what I want. I don’t just want this pussy, baby. I want you. All of you. Every fucking part. I’ll cuff you to the goddamn bed for hours. Fucking days. As long as it takes until you break. You’re not leaving this bed until you’re mine. All mine.”

“No.”

The word caused his hips to still. Stopping mid-thrust as he growls. Quickly pulling out of you. You whimper at the loss as you watch Eddie reach for the key to the handcuffs, leaning back to free one of your wrists. Only one. He wasn’t finished with you.

“On your fucking back.” He orders.

You quickly obey, lying down flat as he stares down at you.

“Put your arm up.”

You follow directions, letting him cuff you to the headboard as he watches you with heat in his eyes. If that didn’t break you then he would try something else.

“Open.” He demands, using his large ring-clad hands to pry your thighs open. He grabs his dick, rubbing the tip up and down your folds before quickly plunging back inside of your heat- causing you to gasp.

“Holy shit!” You moan, suddenly wishing that your hands were freed so that you could grab onto him as he sunk himself deep into you over and over. “Eddie!”

“Fucking look at you. You don’t wanna be with me but you scream my fucking name like it’s the only thing you can remember. You act like your pussy doesn’t fucking gush around me every time I stick my dick in you. You know I’d treat you good, baby. Stop fucking hiding from me. You’re gonna be my girl. Even if I’ve gotta keep chasing you. Even if I’m gotta keep fucking you like I hate you. Especially when I know that it’s the opposite. When I love you.”

The admission caused you to moan out, your mouth falling open in shock and pleasure.

“Fuck, baby. Is that what you need to hear?” He asks “That I love you? I love you, sweetheart. I’m not gonna stop fucking you until you tell me you love me back. C’mon. Stop being fucking stubborn.”

He shifts his hips so that he was thrusting downwards into you in a way that had you breathless and gasping for air. You were so close.

“I….love…you.” He groans out between deep thrusts “C’mon baby, say it back. I know you feel it too. Fucking tell me. Tell me.”

“Eddie, I-“ You gasp out, feeling every fucking inch of him punch into you.

“C’mon sweetheart. Say it. Look at me when you fucking say it.” He demands, grabbing your chin in his hand as he forced you to look at him. To stare deep into those brown doe eyes of his that had you melting and gushing and….in love. Totally and completely in love.

“It’s right there, angel. You’re so close. Just tell me. Please tell me.” He pleads.

“I love you, Eddie.” You choke out “I- fuck, I love you.”

“Yeah?” He breathes, his heart practically bursting when he finally heard those words come from your mouth “Fuck, baby!” He cries out “Oh fuck!”

He felt out of control. Diving and snapping his hips into you like he was going crazy.

“Say it again, baby.” He pleads “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Eddie.”

“Fuck, sweetheart! You’re gonna make me cum!” He moans, his jaw quivering. “God, I love you, baby. I fucking love you. Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” You moan “I’m all yours.”

“Fuck!” He pants “Again. Say it again.”

“I’m yours!” You scream out “Wanna be yours! I’m…gonna- fuck! Gonna c-cum, Eddie!”

“Me too, baby.” He whimpers “Me too. Wanna cum in my girl. Wanna fill you up. Let me fill you up. Please, baby.”

“Okay.” You nod “Do what you want with me. I belong to you.”

“Ohhhh fuuuuck!” Eddie gasps “Baby, I c-can’t hold on much longer. Need you to…oh, Christ!”

He reaches down between you, using the pad of his thumb to roughly grind against your clit. It was just what you needed. That’s why you were in love with him. He always knew what you needed.

“Cum for me, baby! C’mon, sweetheart! Give it to me!”

“Eddie, I’m c-cumming! I- holy fucking…oh god!”

He watches the way your body shakes beneath him, your eyes rolling back as you gasped for air. He loved seeing you come apart for him. Completely his mercy.

“Fuck yes! Atta girl! That’s my girl! Gonna give you this cum, baby. Gonna fucking cum in you. Gonna make you mine. Oh shit!”

His mouth drops open in ecstasy as he releases inside of you, filling you with enough cum to have you leaking for a week. The thought of it was enough to get him going again. His girl. Leaking his cum.

His body gives out as he flops onto the mattress beside you, trying to catch his breath. He reaches for the key to the handcuffs, gently releasing you as he scoops you into his arms and pulls you close- letting you rest your head on his chest. You were silent the whole time, in post orgasmic bliss as he lights up a cigarette- taking drags of it as he stares at the ceiling.

“I meant it, you know.” He says, his head turning towards you “I’m in love with you.”

“Really?” You laugh “I couldn’t tell.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes “At least you know now.”

“I love you too, Eddie.” You reply softly “I mean it. If you want me to be yours, I’m ready.”

He stare at you for a long while before putting out his cigarette, leaning towards you as he kisses your lips tenderly. This kiss felt different than all the others. Because it was the first kiss you would share after becoming his girl.

“Sweetheart,” He says, grinning as he pulls back to look at you “I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life.”

“Just like that, pretty girl. Just— fuck— like that,” Eddie pants above you. His camera pointed directly at the area where you’re connected. Watching the way the plump of your ass ripples with every thrust.

“Eddie,” you whine, your voice almost overshadowed by the sound of your ass meeting his thighs. His hand settles on your rear, kneading and pressing the pads of his fingers into the skin. He moves the camera up. The lens trailing your quivering body in your uniform, your soft hands clutching at his comforter and your face pushed sideways into his bed.

“Yeah? Whose dick are you taking, pretty girl? Who’s making you feel good, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, his voice broken up by groans and ragged breaths. He damn near forgets about the camera entirely when your pretty cunt tightens around his dick. A broken moan echoing behind the camera.

“You, fuck, it’s yours,” you breathe out, nearly overshadowed by the squelch of your pussy. You let out a cry when Eddie’s hand suddenly comes down on the flesh of your ass, his rings leaving behind a sting.

“Uht uht, say my name,” he orders, biting down on his bottom lip as he watches you try to hide from the camera. He fucks you a little harder until a mumbled string of his name over and over again comes from you. “Yeah, baby, it’s me.”