BXRNsw

“Fuck…” Eddie groans, lolling his head back as your cunt gripped him, a feeling he yearned for, especially after a party that Steve had thrown in the Corroded Coffin’s honor since they just signed with an agency.

You gripped his shoulders, digging your nails into his tatted bare skin. “Eddie~” you whimpered out as he began moving, slow and deep thrusts, mostly to tease you.

“Fuck I’ll never get tired of this pussy, sweetheart.” He whispered in your ear, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “Eddie please, I need you.” You moaned, knowing his slow thrusts were a teasing trick he loved to do, to see how you break for him.

“What’s that princess? Need me to go faster? Someone’s needy.” He said with a dry laugh but obeyed almost instantly and started driving into your cunt at a faster rate.

He moved on of his hands in between your bodies to find your clit, present him thumb on it and moving with small circles to make you go even more over the brink.

Your nails dug into him, likely causing scratches that everyone would definitely see at the pool get together on Saturday. “Oh fuck!” you whined out, arching your back as the sensations became too much.

“Oh I can feel you’re close~” he groaned as he sped up, his thrust becoming sloppy and needy as his own orgasm was soon to come.

“Fuck Eddie! I can’t— I’m gonna—“ you moaned loudly, your hips stuttering as you felt your ecstasy coming over you and rising through your whole body. Shaking slightly, Eddie didn’t stop the movements of his thumb on your clit, pushing you through your orgasm as you let out a sound that was more like a scream than a moan.

He was quick to follow, but always needed his sweetheart to cum first. He let out his load into the condom, his hips stuttering and letting out a moan that was anything but “alpha-man manly”.

As you both came down for your high, his sweaty forehead against your left shoulder and his body resting on top of yours.

“Damn princess, guess we’ll have to go out more often if it gets you this worked up.” I said, letting out a dry laugh and then kissed the skin of your jawline.

“What the fuck, Damien?” You scoff, pushing his hand off your shoulder—his cheap way of trying to “console” you. 

“Whaaat, baby? No harsh feelings or nothin’. That’s just rock n’ roll. You know how it is.” He smirks, tightening his grip around his new plaything for the night. 

“You can always join, y’know. The more the merrier.” 

Your body revolts merely on principle alone. You weren’t shy to perform that sort of request before, but now it's different. Or was, anyway. To your knowledge, you and Damien had been “exclusive” for about six months. 

At any award show, you were his arm candy. Drunk? His first call. Post-show stress reliever? You were already anticipating his arrival in his trailer. 

There weren’t any official or established labels, but you sure as shit knew Damien Thatcher wanted you and only you, all to himself. Until now, at least. 

His new plaything stared at you with glazed-over eyes, clearly off of whatever good shit Jeff bought earlier that evening, lips curled into a smug smirk. 

You shook your head and waved them off, scoffing before sashaying away towards the living room. When you arrived, to your surprise, the living room was empty, and the band's usual buffet of substances was left unsupervised on the glass coffee table. 

The Corroded Coffin mansion was rarely this quiet; post-show parties were basically a must during tour season. But here you were, sitting on the couch, a massive array of drugs staring back at you, and not another soul in sight. That was until the front door opened. 

Eddie Munson, the band’s frontman, wandered in from smoking his usual every-twenty-minute cigarette. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t noticed him before. That would’ve been impossible, honestly. Not when he looked like that.

The man had become something of a rockstar sex symbol over the last few years, and for good reason. Long dark curls, tattooed body, and a grin that somehow managed to look both dangerous and inviting at the exact same time. He carried himself with the kind of confidence that only came from knowing exactly who he was.

And unlike Damien, who constantly demanded attention from every person in a room, Eddie never seemed to need it. It just found him anyway.

You'd caught yourself watching him more than once during shows, standing side stage with a drink in your hand as he commanded entire stadiums with nothing but a microphone and a crooked smile. He was attractive in the same way thunderstorms were attractive: beautiful, loud, and probably a terrible idea.

Not that it mattered; you were Damien’s girl. Or at least, you thought you were.

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie had noticed you a long time ago. Long before Damien had started dragging you around on his arm. Long before you became a familiar face backstage. Long before he'd ever learned your name.

Because truthfully? You were impossible not to notice. Every venue, every afterparty, it didn't matter where. Eddie's eyes always found you eventually.

Maybe it was the confidence. The way you carried yourself like you belonged wherever you happened to be standing. Maybe it was your attitude; the sharp tongue, the sarcastic remarks, the fact that you never seemed particularly impressed by fame despite spending most of your time surrounded by it.

Or maybe it was simpler than that. You were just fucking gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous that didn't feel manufactured.

Messy lipstick at three in the morning. Smudged eyeliner after a concert. Leather jackets thrown over tiny dresses. Cigarettes shared on balconies overlooking cities you'd forget by next week.

You looked like every rock song he'd ever written and every bad decision he'd ever wanted to make. Not that he'd ever done anything about it; you were Damien's.

And despite what most magazines liked to print about him, Eddie wasn't in the habit of chasing after things that belonged to other people. 

So he'd settled for watching. For knowing exactly which laugh was yours in a crowded room. For pretending he wasn't disappointed whenever Damien draped an arm around your shoulders. For occasionally wondering what a girl like you was doing wasting her time with a guy like him.

Now, as he stepped into the empty living room and spotted you sitting alone on the couch, his brow furrowed slightly. Because for the first time since he'd known you, you looked genuinely and wholeheartedly miserable.

One perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched. “Well, that can't be good.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “Fuck off.”

Eddie blinked. That wasn't exactly the response he'd been expecting. Over the years, the two of you had developed something of a comfortable acquaintanceship. You'd traded enough sarcastic remarks and drunken conversations over the years that he knew you weren't usually this hostile. Not towards him, anyway. 

Which meant something had happened.

“Jesus.” He snorted, tossing himself into an armchair across from the couch. “Who pissed in your cereal?”

“Why does everyone always use that expression?”

“Because it's funny.”

“It isn't.”

“Okay.”

For a moment, Eddie figured that'd be the end of it. You'd tell him to mind his own business, and he'd steal a beer and leave. Simple.

Instead, your shoulders sagged, ever so slightly. But enough that Eddie immediately noticed.

“Alright.” His voice softened. “What's wrong?”

You stared down at your hands. The anger was already fading, which almost made everything worse. At least being angry felt productive; now you just felt embarrassed.

Embarrassed that you'd somehow convinced yourself Damien actually cared. Embarrassed that everyone would probably know by tomorrow morning. Embarrassed that after six months of acting like his girlfriend, you'd apparently never been one at all.

“Damien cheated on me.”

Eddie stared. Then he looked away, dragging his tongue across the inside of his cheek.

Because that was not the reaction he was supposed to have, not even a little bit. The correct response was sympathy or outrage.

The correct response was literally anything besides the sudden rush of excitement currently threatening to make him grin like an asshole.

So he swallowed it. “What'd he do?”

You laughed bitterly.

“What'd he do?” you repeated. “Oh, nothing crazy. Just invited me into a room to watch him fuck crack-head Amy.”

Eddie's jaw tightened. “Seriously?”

“Mhm.”

“What'd he say?”

“His exact words were, ‘that's just rock n' roll, baby.’”

For the first time all evening, Eddie looked genuinely horrified. “No.”

“Yes.”

“No, he did not.”

“I swear to God.”

Eddie rubbed a hand over his face. “That's the most embarrassing thing I've ever heard.”

Despite yourself, a small smile tugged at your lips. “Right?”

“Like, forget cheating for a second.” He pointed at you. “That line alone should get him arrested.”

A laugh escaped before you could stop it. And Eddie felt his chest do something stupid, because there it was. That laugh, the one he'd spent years overhearing from across crowded green rooms. The one he'd always found himself listening for without meaning to.

You shook your head. “I feel like an idiot.”

Eddie shook his head in response, plopping down next to you on the couch. 

“Nah, you’re not an idiot. ‘That’s just rock n roll, baby.’” He put on an exaggerated macho voice. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

You laughed again. “I don't know.”

“No, seriously.” Eddie leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “I've been in rock n' roll for years. I practically invented being an asshole. And even I have no clue what that's supposed to mean.”

“Maybe it's in the handbook.”

“The handbook?”

“The Official Rock Star Handbook.”

Eddie snapped his fingers. “Right. Chapter seven: How to Cheat on Women and Make it Sound Deep.”

“Chapter eight: Cocaine.”

“Chapter nine: Buy leather pants two sizes too small.”

You snorted. “Chapter ten: Develop a God complex.”

“Chapter eleven: Die at twenty-seven.”

The joke landed with a little less humor than the others. Then Eddie sighed dramatically and reached toward the coffee table.

“Well.”

You watched as he sorted through the various substances scattered across the glass.

“Well, what?”

“Well, we have two options here.”

“Which are?”

Eddie held up a finger.

“Option one: you continue sitting here feeling sorry for yourself over a man who voluntarily chose to say the words ‘that's just rock n' roll, baby’ out loud.”

You groaned.

“See? Already sounds terrible.”

“Exactly.”

He held up a second finger. “Option two.”

Your eyes followed him as he picked up a small baggie from the table. “You do a little cocaine and get your mind off it.”

You stared at him. “That's your professional recommendation?”

“Absolutely.”

“You're a terrible therapist.”

“Good thing I'm a musician.”

A reluctant smile crept onto your face. “Jesus Christ.”

“Listen.” Eddie shrugged. “I'm not saying it'll solve your problems.”

“No?”

“Not even a little.”

“Great.”

“But it might make you stop thinking about Damien for twenty minutes.”

You considered it, mostly because there wasn't much else to do. 

“Or.” He tossed the baggie back onto the table. “We could sit here and talk shit about him.”

That earned another laugh. “That's a little immature.”

“It's extremely immature.”

“And you're offering it as an alternative?”

“I think it's actually healthier than the cocaine.”

“That's a low bar.”

“Still.”

You sat back, then shook your head, reaching across the table to the small baggie. “May I?”

Eddie leaned back, draping both arms across the back of the couch. “Please. Shit talking will be way more fun coked-out anyway.”

His eyes drifted over your face for a brief second before looking away again.

Because now that you were laughing and leaning over the table, he was finding it increasingly difficult to remember why he'd ever convinced himself you were off limits.

Especially considering Damien Thatcher had apparently just fumbled the hottest woman he'd ever seen.

The night went like so for hours: Eddie’s long fingers working with practiced ease, cutting two neat lines on the glass table with a hotel key card.

The faint chemical tang already hung in the air, mixing with the ever-present haze of cigarette smoke and spilled whiskey that clung to every surface of the mansion. 

He passed you a rolled-up bill without a word, his dark eyes catching yours for a second longer than necessary.

You leaned in. One sharp inhale, and the world sharpened at the edges, warmth blooming fast behind your ribs.

Eddie did his own line right after, then chased it with a generous pull from the bottle of Jack he’d grabbed from the side table. He offered it to you next, and you took it, the burn sliding down your throat like liquid fire.

“Fuck,” you muttered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. The coke hit quick; euphoric, electric, loosening the knot of humiliation that had been sitting heavy in your chest.

Eddie grinned that crooked, dangerous smile and slid closer on the couch. Not a safe distance next to you, but right beside you. His thigh pressed against yours, the heat of him bleeding through his jeans. 

“Better?” he asked, voice low. 

You nodded, leaning into the feeling. “Yeah. A lot better.”

He didn’t pull away. If anything, he shifted so his arm draped along the back of the couch was behind your shoulders, fingers brushing the bare skin of your arm where your dress left it exposed.

“You know,” Eddie murmured, tilting his head so his curls fell forward, brushing your shoulder, “Damien’s a fucking idiot. Always has been. But tonight? Christ, he really outdid himself.”

His gaze dropped to your mouth, unashamed. The kind of look that made your pulse jump.

You laughed softly. “You’re not exactly subtle right now, Munson.”

“Subtle’s never been my brand, sweetheart.” His fingers traced a lazy circle on your shoulder, then drifted higher, thumb grazing the side of your neck.

“Been watching you waste six months on that clown. Figured it was time someone reminded you what you’re worth.”

The words hit like another line. You turned toward him, knees knocking together, and he didn’t hesitate. Eddie’s free hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb stroking your lower lip before he leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t tentative. It was hungry; months, maybe years, of restrained want pouring out in the press of his mouth. 

His lips were warm, tasting like whiskey and sin, and when you parted for him, he groaned softly into the kiss, tongue sliding against yours with filthy confidence. The hand on your neck tightened, tilting your head exactly how he wanted as he deepened it.

You kissed him back just as hard, fingers threading into those wild curls, tugging until he made that low, wrecked sound again.

Eddie pulled back just enough to speak against your lips, voice gravel-rough. “Fuck, you taste good.” 

His other hand slid down your side, then slipped under the hem of your dress. Calloused fingertips traced up your thigh, achingly slow, until they reached the lace edge of your panties. He teased there for a moment, watching your face like he was memorizing every reaction.

“Eddie…” you breathed, hips shifting toward his touch.

“Yeah?” He smirked, eyes dark. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

You didn’t, obviously.

Instead, you pulled him back into another messy kiss, and he took that as permission. His fingers pushed the lace aside and slid through your slick folds, groaning at how wet you already were. “Shit, baby. This all for me?”

Two fingers circled your clit with practiced pressure before dipping lower, pressing inside you; slow at first, then deeper, curling just right. The stretch and the steady rhythm had you gasping into his mouth, thighs parting wider on the couch. 

“Goddamn,” he muttered against your jaw, nipping at the skin there while his thumb kept working your clit. “You’re so fucking tight. Been thinking about this… about how you’d feel around me.”

Your head fell back against the couch, hips rocking to meet his hand, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet living room. Eddie watched you the whole time, lips parted, curls wild, looking every bit the “rockstar sex symbol” the magazines called him. But this close, it was just Eddie; chaotic, intense, and completely focused on pulling you apart.

He kissed you again, swallowing your moan as his fingers sped up, curling against that perfect spot inside you until your thighs started to tremble.

Then, just as the edge started building, he slowed and withdrew his hand. You whined at the loss, but Eddie only grinned and brought his glistening fingers to his mouth. He licked them clean while holding your gaze. “Such a sweet thing you are.”

You moaned in response, taking his hand out of his mouth and placing his digits in your own. The sound that left his throat made your thighs tremble. You bobbed your head and sucked his fingers until the taste of your sex was gone. He grinned at the sight. 

“C’mon, gorgeous,” he said, voice wrecked. He stood and offered you his hand, pulling you up against his chest. “My room’s upstairs. I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

His arm wrapped around your waist as he guided you toward the staircase. The door to Eddie’s room barely clicked shut before he had you pinned against it. His mouth crashed back onto yours, all teeth and tongue and zero patience now that you were alone in his domain. 

One hand fisted in your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your head back and expose your throat so he could bite down the column of it, sucking hard enough to leave marks you’d feel tomorrow. The other hand shoved your dress up around your waist, as if to offend him.

“Fuckin’ finally,” he growled against your skin. “Been waiting fucking months to get my hands on you like this.”

You laughed breathlessly and shoved at his leather jacket until it hit the floor. “Then stop talking and do something about it, Munson.”

Eddie pulled back just far enough to grin at you; eyes blown black, curls messy. 

“Oh, I’m gonna do a lot of somethin’, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so good you forget that asshole ever existed.”

He dropped to his knees right there in front of the door.

Your panties were ripped down your legs and tossed somewhere behind him before you could blink. Then his mouth was on you. Hot, wet, filthy. No teasing. No slow build. Eddie licked a broad stripe up your cunt like he was starving, then sealed his lips around your clit and sucked hard enough to make your knees buckle.

“Jesus—Fuck—Eddie—”

He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you wider, and groaned like you tasted better than anything he’d ever put in his body. 

Two fingers pushed inside you again, curling viciously while his tongue worked your clit in tight, relentless circles. The wet sounds were obscene. He didn’t care. He moaned into you every time your hips jerked against his face, like getting you off was the only thing that mattered.

“Fuck, listen to you,” he rasped between licks, voice wrecked. “Already dripping down my wrist. Damien’s never made you this wet, now did he?”

You couldn’t even answer. Your head thunked back against the door as he added a third finger, stretching you open, fucking you on his hand while he sucked and licked like he wanted to ruin you for anyone else. The pressure built fast, way too fast, to where your thighs were shaking around his head.

He pulled off right as you started to tip over the edge.

You whined, high and frustrated, and he just laughed, dark and delighted, wiping his shiny mouth with the back of his hand as he stood.

“Not yet, angel,” he said, voice low. “Wanna feel you come on my cock first.”

He manhandled you toward the bed, so much so that you barely got a glimpse of the room (guitars on stands, posters peeling off the walls) before he spun you around and bent you over the edge of the mattress.

The sound of his belt and zipper was loud in the room. Then the thick, hot weight of his cock slapped against your ass. Eddie dragged the head through your folds, coating himself in your slick, teasing your entrance.

“Gonna fuck you so deep you feel me for days,” he promised, one hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise. The other fisted in your hair again, pulling your head back so he could lean over and speak right against your ear. 

“Gonna fill this pretty pussy up. Make sure you remember whose cum is leaking out of you tomorrow when that loser tries to talk to you again.”

He pushed in.

One long, relentless thrust that stretched you wide and punched the air from your lungs. Eddie didn’t give you time to adjust; he bottomed out with a groan that sounded like it was ripped from his chest, then started fucking you like he meant to break the bed.

The pace was brutal. Skin slapping skin. His hips snapping forward hard enough to jolt you up the mattress with every thrust. The hand in your hair kept your back arched, the other sliding around to rub tight circles over your clit.

“Fuck—fuck, you feel better than I imagined,” he panted, voice strained. “So tight. So fuckin’ wet. Taking me so good, baby. That’s it—squeeze me just like that.”

You moaned loudly, pushing back to meet every thrust. Every drag of his cock against your walls felt electric.

Eddie leaned down, chest pressed to your back, and bit at your shoulder. 

“Tell me,” he demanded, hips never slowing. “Tell me his dick never felt like this.”

“Never—fuck, Eddie—never felt like this—”

“That’s right.” He sounded smug and feral at the same time. “Weak-ass little dick couldn’t make you scream like this. Couldn’t make you this fuckin’ messy.” His fingers on your clit sped up. “You’re mine now. Say it.”

The pace was so brutal you could only speak gibberish, which Eddie did not take a liking to. So, naturally, he sped up more than you thought humanly possible and growled into your ear, “Fucking. Say. It.”

You were close again, the edge rushing up fast. “Yours—Eddie, I’m yours—”

He growled, low and satisfied, and pulled out just long enough to flip you onto your back. 

Your legs were shoved up and over his shoulders as he slammed back in, folding you nearly in half. The new angle had him hitting so deep it bordered on too much.

Eddie’s hand wrapped around your throat—perfectly tight enough to cut off air and just enough pressure to make your head spin in the best way. His thumb stroked your pulse while he fucked you harder, eyes locked on yours.

“Look at me when you come,” he ordered. “Wanna watch you fall apart on my cock.”

You did. The orgasm crashed over you so hard your vision whited out for a second. You clenched around him, crying out his name, and Eddie fucked you straight through it, pace turning erratic.

“Fuck—gonna come—gonna fill you up—” His rhythm stuttered. He buried himself and came with a broken groan, pulsing hot and deep inside you. His hips kept rolling in short, shallow thrusts like he was trying to push it even deeper, claiming every inch.

He stayed there for a long moment, forehead pressed to yours, both of you breathing hard. Then he kissed you, slower this time, but no less possessive, while he was still buried inside you.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were dark and satisfied.

“Tapped out already?” he murmured, thumb brushing your swollen bottom lip. “Damn. And I’m not even close to done with you yet.” His cock twitched inside you, already starting to harden again.

The night was young, and Eddie Munson had no intention of letting you leave his bed until the sun came up and every trace of Damien Thatcher had been fucked out of your system.

mmmmm this one was......🫣

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@abbysleftbicepp @britttzy267 @ssculker @eddiemunsonsimpp @powerpuffedbjtch @kylorensbaby

•Picnic table sex: since there’s a convenient level surface (ground, bench, table), I recommend oral, giving or receiving, your call,  or just making out and grinding, depending on the weather and how horny you are for Eddie on a scale from 95 to 100 ✅

•Tutoring him: he must graduate from that school and flip the bird to that principal ✅

•Eddie teaches you to play guitar: you love his fingers and his rings, and the way he moves them alone makes you wet.  He has good rhythm and vibrato, if you know what I mean 🎻, they go in so deep and curl right where you need them

• Movie theater date: drive-in or regular theater, you watch a movie, Eddie comments and holds your hand through the jump scares, mandatory making out ✅

• Skating/rollerskating/milkshake date: just to annoy everyone around and show you don’t care what people say

• Watching him smoke: you love his hands and his lips and how the smoke leaves his mouth and curls between you (smoking kills, kids) ✅

• Smoking weed with Eddie: shotgun it if you can’t actually smoke (hello, me), get giggly and loose, watch an old comedy, make out, get the munchies, find or make something to eat ✅

• DM throne: straddle him or tie him, or both, blindfold to taste, blow him while he can’t shut up, or ride him till he can’t speak

• School closet: especially if you’re a good girl, let him pull you there and kiss you stupid. Detention optional

• Eddie climbs into your window: he’s done it before, he knows how. The question is, can you be quiet?

• You climb out of your window to sneak out with him: go to the Hideout for his show, or drive to the quarry, or your choice — just be home before morning, Cinderella 

• Trailer sex: Wayne has night shifts/double shifts so you become a regular. Eddie even cleans up a bit, and you can moan as loud as you want when he fucks you into that old mattress ✅

• Van sex: it’s actually pretty nice inside, Eddie keeps blankets there, wipes and water for aftercare, and the best part is it’s always available. My personal favorite is letting him eat you out in there ✅

• Hike + outdoor sex: Skull Rock, anyone? He knows places.  Bring a yoga mat, unless you want to be railed against a tree

• Camping: have to be quiet again (or not), your friends are listening. Cuddle all night in the sleeping bag

• Drug deal sex: you came to buy and left with extras. He’ll give you a discount, flattery works on him, Eddie’s officially admitted it. Don’t forget your baggie, or he’ll know why you really came

• Phone sex: when you can’t go out and see each other, technology helps you stay connected.  Eddie’s a gifted narrator and talks you through it if you need  ✅

• Kitchen table/counter sex: he’s such  an animal, just seeing you cooking for him, or even bending over to grab a couple of beers from the fridge in your tiny shorts, gets him hard. ✅

• Laundry room sex: it’s so boring to watch, and you can only read your book so much, and his cassette only has two sides. You end up on the vibrating washer, and it hits the wall many many times. ✅

• Pool sex: it’s hot, Eddie is hot, and just to gross out Steve (or whoever’s hosting), you fuck by the edge of the pool. Crash a rich person’s pool just because, run away holding hands if you get caught. ✅

• D&D roleplay sex: he can turn it into a quest or an adventure, the best one of your life. But he’s a tease — roll to see how many minutes he edges you. ✅

• Handcuffing you: mandatory, no idea where he got them, he never tells, but you trust him ✅

• Handcuffing him (time to pay Eddie back): he’ll try to resist and you’ll need to force him,  but he’s very willing to be at your mercy (don’t go too hard on our boy)

• Bandana as a blindfold: you or him, food play, ice play or use it as a gag if you’re extra kinky. ✅

• Tattoo adoration: you love his tattoos, trace them, lick them, scratch them gently, name them and he’ll get one dedicated to you. ✅

• Scar adoration: Eddie survives the Upside Down because I say so. He wears his scars like honor badges, and you love tracing them with your fingers, nails, or your tongue. ✅

• Brushing his hair: it takes a while before he’ll let you, but once you get that privilege, you can’t stop. Wash it when you shower together, apply conditioner, have a quickie, rinse off. One time when you’re both stoned, he lets you braid it. No pictures allowed

• Massaging him: mix it with worshipping his tattoos or scars.  Did I mention his nipples are sensitive? Anyway, massage him. You must sit on him while you do it

• Feeding him: real food, please, vegetables too. Take good care of him. He’ll help cook and can do the dishes ✅✅✅

• Medical care: Eddie's miserable with a 101° fever. Hot tea with lemon and rum, honey, raspberry jam, chicken soup, and his favorite movies. Hot foot bath and mustard patches if you want to be extra

• Hideout hookup: meeting him at the bar during or after a Corroded Coffin show, leaving his van there and driving him back to your place or a motel, stopping at every solid surface to make out along the way ✅

• Boathouse/Rick’s house: bring Eddie a little comfort: a six-pack of beer, some homemade food, and, well, someone once said sex helps destress. ✅

• Haunted house/Creel house: why not gross out Vecna? Have your favorite music ready. Do it in the hall, by the lamp, and on the dining table.

• Upside Down: not for the faint of heart, but your parents definitely won’t catch you there. Just don’t go during your period ✅

• Going to his concert: support Eddie like he deserves: dress like a heavy metal dream or a sweet innocent girl and get in the front row. He’ll dedicate a song to you

• Taking him to a concert: he has to see his idols, and conveniently, Metallica opened for Ozzy Osbourne on his ’86 tour, they even played in Indianapolis, so you pack the van, get a motel room, and scream your heart out with him. Eddie makes sure to thank you properly after the show

• Striptease: after watching 9½ Weeks, you’ll want to treat Eddie to a little striptease. Cuff him if he doesn’t behave

• Rockstar! Eddie: leather pants and coke sex (80s reality, don’t try at home) ✅

• Mechanic! Eddie: sex over the hood of the car he’s fixing, bent over it or spread out on it, lady’s call

• Ultimate goal: taking him to see the ocean for the first time. Build the anticipation over the road trip and watch his eyes go wide and teary (from the wind, of course)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

PS: I’m in Prague friends, not my usual time zone

About a month after Robin brought you into the friend group, you invited your roommate - Brenda - to tag along to a party he and Steve were hosting. At some point Steve, you, Brenda and Eddie were talking when you excused yourself to grab another drink. As if she had been waiting for the opening, the second you left, Eddie watched as Brenda swopped in and sank her teeth into Steve. Safe to say, they’ve been inseparable ever since. 

Now the thing is, Eddie does blame Steve — Brenda’s objectively hot. She’s just a bit of a bitch. Not that he actually knows her well enough to say that. But he figures she had to know you were into Steve. Eddie certainly did. He clocked that shit the moment Robin introduced you. 

The saddest past is Steve probably would’ve fallen for you. Eddie’s quite sure of it. Honestly, he’s not sure many people wouldn’t. You just didn’t have a fighting chance, the second you let Brenda the barracuda in the circle. 

And at first, Eddie sympathized. But there was only so much of that shit Eddie could watch before it became cruel punishment. So, he decided to intervene. And sure, maybe the idea was a little self serving. But who was he if not a gentleman to offer you the option? 

Eddie had just finished a blunt outside with Gareth and Jeff, when he pushed back into the crowded living room. The lights were fucking with his eyes, too bright after the dark outside. For a second, he just let them adjust. As the room came into focus, the only thought looping in his mind was that the parties were getting a little out of a hand lately. He stepped over crushed cans, and empty bottles weaving through people he only half recognized as he made his way toward the kitchen.

He spotted you in the corner, back against the counter, sipping a drink by yourself. He pushed his way through the last stretch of people, barely dodging someone swinging their arm out wide with their cup.

“C’mon man,” Eddie muttered, brushing past then as he finally reached the kitchen. He grabbed a beer from the fridge before settling across from you. “Mind if I join?”

“No at all,” you said, smiling a little into your drink. 

“So, what’s the verdict?” He asked, cracking the can open. “You having fun tonight?” 

“I am.” 

“You sure? From here, it looks a little like you’re sulking?”

“Definitely not sulking. I am a little disappointed I missed the show though. Steve said you adn the band played a few songs earlier.” 

Eddie had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the mention of Steve’s name. 

“Yeah.. it was a good one. But probably a mistake looking at the state of this place.” 

“Fair enough.” 

“Speaking of Harrington, you seen him around?” 

“Not for awhile. He and Brenda went upstairs like right after we got here.” 

“Gotcha,” he said taking another sip. “Can I level with you?” 

“Of course.”

“You’re into him, right?” 

“Steve?” You scoffed, jaw dropped like what he’d said was ridiculous. Which threw him a little. 

“Well yeah… I’ve seen the way you look at him.” 

“Eddie, what the fuck are you talking about?” 

“No need to play dumb, sweetheart. Whenever we’re all together, you’re always sorta watching him. And every time, he has his tongue halfway down Brenda’s throat.” 

A laughed escaped you, that ridiculous loud sort of laugh you always give when Robin shares her work stories. It momentarily disarms him, before he continues.

“I love the guy, I do but he’s an idiot. And look, I’m not judging, it’s just getting a little hard to watch you with those sad eyes.” 

That halted your laughter, your eyebrow raising as you cocked your head. “Is that so..”

You didn’t say it like an actual question. There was more condescension in it, and he didn’t know how to respond in a way that sounded casual enough you would’t mistake that he’d been pining after you. Though, come to think of it, maybe he has been. 

He took a long sip from his beer, like it alone could give him the courage to get to the point. “Listen, I’m sure you’ve heard that the fastest way to get over someone, is to get under someone else,” he paused, watching the way your eyes widened. “I just wanted to let you know I’m around, if you wanna test that.” 

Your demeanor shifted then, not confusion — not even amusement. It was something he couldn’t quite place. And you weren’t giving any hints, just staring for what felt like minutes though as a new song came through the speakers it was probably only around 45 seconds, before you said, “Well, that’s a very generous offer Eddie.” 

“Just trying to be a good friend,” he replied, a smirk quirking on his lips.

He watched as you nodded, before bringing your cup to your lips tipping your head back and downing whatever remained. “There’s just one problem,” you said, as you placed the cup back down on the counter with a thud. 

“What’s that?” 

“I prefer to be on top.” 

A low groan fell from Eddie’s lips. He didn’t mean for it to happen. The sound just slipped out like it was desperate to be heard. 

“Oh, sure.”

You laughed softly, then took his hand, and began walking toward the stairwell. 

Eddie followed, trying to dismiss the thought that despite what this was, it didn’t feel like a consolation in the slightest. 

He shut the door behind him, and when he turned around you were already taking a seat on the edge of his bed. He could feel his heartbeat, rapid and intense thud against his chest as you looked up at him. 

His offer came with ease, he’d meant it — he just hand’t expected you to take him up on it so quickly. 

“Soooo,” he drawled running a hand through his hair.

“Soooo,” you repeated tilting your head slightly. 

“You sure about this?” 

“I’m in your bed, aren’t I?”

That was all the confirmation he needed. He moved fast, bending forward, hands cradling your face as he crashed his lips to yours. 

You melted against him, mouth tasting sweet, like melted sugar on his tongue — whatever juice your vodka had been mixed with. Your hands pulled at his shirt, causing him to collapse forward and push you back onto the bed. 

Everything slowed then, a laugh slipping out of you, as Eddie made sure not to crush you with his weight. For a moment, he didn’t move. Just stared into your eyes for the first time in weeks, like they finally had him in focus. 

You smiled softly back at him, thumb tracing his jaw, “It was never Steve.” 

His heart dropped into his stomach, mind whirring. “What?” 

“It’s always been you,” you breathed out, like the words were heavy with what they carried. 

Then the past few weeks flashed in his mind like waves, like his brain was trying to correct something he’d been ignoring. Little moments, replaying like a clipped montage. Every moment Eddie had caught you looking at Steve, he’d always been right there next to him. And every time Eddie’s eyes landed on you, you were snapping your gaze away, falling on Steve. How did he miss that before? Even that first party, where you brought Brenda — before you dismissed yourself, you turned around, just for a second and looked back only at Eddie — like maybe you wanted him to follow. Only he stayed behind, let you go alone, and focused his attention on Brenda and Steve instead. Life a fucking idiot. And tonight, when he asked about your time you talked about him — about being disappointed you missed seeing him play. 

In some ways, he had been perceptive. But perception with a blindspot is an accident waiting to happen. And fuck, did he let it happen — disregarding every moment, because he couldn’t imagine being the object of your desire. 

He didn’t answer with words, just the form of his body pressing against yours, lips colliding fervent and frenzied. His hands slid up your sides, slipping under your shirt, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your abdomen. You moaned into him and a whimper fell from his own lips at the sound, his hips pressing forward on instinct. Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him into you like you needed the friction just as badly as he did. 

“Fuck,” he breathed out as you rutted your hips up, meeting him halfway as he rolled his. 

Curses continued to fall from his mouth as your fingers caught in his hair, nails dragging lightly against his scalp each time he pressed forward with more pressure. 

Little pants left your mouth between moans — jaw slack, eyes fixed on him so intensely he could never confuse it again. 

“Need you,” you whimpered. 

Eddie’s hips stuttered, the rhythm he’d just been losing himself in collapsing — his body breaking away from yours too fast, breath labored and uneven, as he stumbled off the bed reaching for his dresser.

His fingers fumbled in the drawer, moving back quickly until the small foil packet slipped form his fingers and their the floor.

“Shit—“ he breathed, crouching to grab it. 

Then you giggled, the sound soft and sweet, and it made all the nerves in his body settle as he stood back up.

His eyes met yours, and he swore you couldn’t look more beautiful if you tried, staring back at him with longing deep in your eyes. 

And goddamn, he couldn’t believe he’d missed it when you’d been right in front of him all this time.

Eddie sat across from you in the armchair, one boot kicked up on the coffee table, the other leg sprawled wide. His vest hung open over a faded Metallica shirt, curls wild and haloed by the light. The joint burned down between his fingers, silver rings glinting every time he gestured. He’d been like this all night- theatrical, loud, impossible to look away from-  but the flirting had crept in heavier with every hit. The way he’d called you “sweetheart” like it was your actual name. The way his eyes kept dropping to your mouth when you laughed. The way his knee had “accidentally” brushed yours and stayed there a second too long.

You both felt it. That thing you’d been dancing around for weeks. The late-night talks that stretched until dawn, the almost-kisses that never landed because one of you always got nervous and cracked a joke instead. You wanted him so badly it ached sometimes, but saying it out loud felt terrifying. What if it ruined everything?

The game had started dumb and safe- “Favorite D&D monster to fight?” “Worst thing you’ve ever eaten?”- but the weed had loosened every filter. Questions got sharper. Edgier. Eddie’s grin had turned wicked about twenty minutes ago, and now he was watching you like he was waiting for something to break.

He took one last slow drag, held it, then crushed the roach into the overflowing ashtray. When he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, the air shifted. His dark eyes locked onto yours, playful and hungry at the same time.

“Alright, my turn,” he said, voice low and rough from the smoke. That signature Eddie Munson smirk curved his mouth, but there was something hotter underneath it. “And you can't get all shy on me now, sweetheart.”

He tilted his head, curls falling across one eye, and asked it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“When was the last time someone fucked you?”

The words hit like a live wire. Your brain stuttered hard. The high made everything spin, but that question sliced straight through the fog- blunt, filthy, and aimed right at you. Heat flooded your face so fast it felt like a fever. Your chest tightened. Your thighs pressed together on instinct. You opened your mouth and nothing useful came out, just a broken little sound.

“I… I-I’ve never…” You swallowed, voice small and cracking. “No one has. I’m… I’m a virgin.”

The confession tumbled out in a stammered rush. You wanted to disappear into the couch cushions, but you couldn’t stop looking at him. Your heart was hammering so loud you were sure he could hear it.

Eddie went still for a second, eyebrows lifting, mouth parting in genuine surprise. For one suspended heartbeat the only sound was the low thrum of the music and your own pulse in your ears.

Then that slow, crooked smile spread across his face- not mocking, not laughing at you. Something darker. Warmer. Interested in a way that made your stomach flip and your skin prickle.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, almost to himself. A soft, disbelieving laugh escaped him. “You’re serious?”

He sat back just enough to rake a hand through his curls, rings catching the light, then leaned in again, closer this time. His gaze dragged over you- slow, deliberate, taking in the flush on your cheeks, the way your fingers were still gripping the couch cushion like a lifeline. When he spoke again his voice had dropped lower, intimate, that flirty edge sharpened into something that felt like a promise.

“Damn, sweetheart… that’s actually really fucking hot.” He shook his head once, like he was trying to clear it. “No one’s ever touched you like that? Not even a little?” His eyes flicked down to your mouth again, then back up. “I’ve been thinking about you for weeks. Like, can’t-stop-thinking-about-you weeks. And now you tell me this?”

He shifted forward until his knees were almost touching yours. One ringed hand rested on the arm of the couch, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off his skin. The usual manic energy was still there, but it was tempered now by something careful. Something hungry.

“You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to,” he murmured, eyes never leaving yours. “We can keep playing the game. Or we can… not.” A tiny, wicked smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Your call, pretty girl. But just so you know- hearing that? It’s doing really filthy things to my brain right now.”

The air between you crackled. The high made every detail sharper- the way his voice vibrated in your chest, the faint scent of leather and smoke clinging to him, the way his fingers twitched like he was holding himself back from reaching for you.

Your face was still burning, but the embarrassment was twisting into something else- something warm and electric and terrifyingly good. The nervousness was still there, thick in your throat… but so was the want. Finally out in the open between you both.

Eddie waited, that crooked, flirty smile soft around the edges, giving you all the space in the world while his eyes said he’d been waiting for this moment longer than he’d ever admit.

The words left your mouth before you could second-guess them.

Your voice was soft, a little rough from the smoke, but steady enough. The high had your heart racing and your skin buzzing, and the way Eddie was looking at you- like he wanted to devour every shaky breath you took- made something bold and reckless rise up in your chest.

“How would you fuck me?”

Eddie’s eyes darkened instantly. That crooked, filthy grin spread slow across his face, but there was heat in it now, real and hungry. He let out a low laugh, running a hand through his curls as he leaned forward again, elbows on his knees, close enough that you could see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” He shook his head once, like he couldn’t believe you’d actually asked. “You want the whole picture? Alright. I’ll give it to you.”

His voice dropped lower, that theatrical Eddie drawl turning intimate and rough.

“I’d start slow. Real slow. Because I know it’s your first time and I’m not about to rush the best thing that’s ever gonna happen to either of us.” He licked his bottom lip, eyes flicking down to your mouth. “I’d kiss you until your head spins worse than this weed does. Then I’d get my mouth on your tits- suck on them nice and gentle until you’re arching up and making those pretty little sounds I already know you’re hiding. I’d take my time. Kiss down your stomach, spread your legs, and eat this pussy like it’s the only thing I’ve ever wanted.”

He was watching your face now, gauging every reaction, his own breathing heavier.

“I’d use my tongue first. Get you wet and messy. Then two fingers- slow, curling just right until you’re shaking. I’d talk to you the whole time. Tell you how tight you feel. How good you taste. How I’m gonna ruin you for anyone else.” His grin turned sharper, filthier. “And when you’re dripping and begging, I’d finally give you my cock. Nice and easy at first. Let you feel every inch stretching you open. I’d hold your hand. Kiss you through it. Tell you how fucking perfect you feel wrapped around me raw.”

He was breathing harder now, eyes locked on yours.

“Then I’d fuck you. Deep. Steady. Not hard- not yet. Just enough to make you feel me everywhere. I’d tell you how good you’re taking it. How pretty you look when you come on my cock for the first time. I’d probably lose my mind a little when you do. Might even come inside you if you let me. Fill you up while I’m still buried deep and whispering how long I’ve wanted this.”

Eddie stopped. The air between you was thick, crackling. His pupils were blown wide, chest rising and falling fast. For a second he just stared at you, that filthy little smile still playing on his lips… then something shifted in his expression. Playful. Decisive. Electric.

He let out a soft, disbelieving laugh and shook his head.

“Wait. Why the fuck am I just telling you about it when I could show you?”

Your stomach flipped hard. The high made everything feel dreamlike and hyper-real at the same time. Eddie was already standing, offering you his hand- rings cool against your palm when you took it. His fingers laced through yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he murmured, voice softer now, thumb stroking the back of your hand. “Only if you want. We can stop any time. Just say the word.”

You nodded. Your legs felt a little unsteady as he led you down the short hallway to his bedroom.

He closed the door behind you both, then turned to face you, his hands gentle as they came up to cup your face.

“You sure?” he asked again, eyes searching yours. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for.”

“I’m sure,” you whispered. “I want you.”

That was all he needed.

Eddie kissed you like he’d been holding back for months- slow at first, then deeper, his tongue sliding against yours, tasting like weed and something sweeter. His hands stayed respectful even as the kiss grew hotter, one sliding into your hair, the other resting at the small of your back, pulling you gently against him. You could feel how hard he was already through his jeans, but he didn’t grind on you. He just let you feel it. Let you know.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“Gonna take such good care of you,” he promised, voice low and rough. “Gonna make it so good for you, sweetheart. You tell me if anything feels off, okay? Even if it’s just a little.”

You nodded again, breathless.

He started slow- peeling your shirt up inch by inch, kissing every new strip of skin he revealed. His mouth was warm and a little chapped from the smoke, and the contrast of his soft lips and the cool metal of his rings dragging lightly over your sides made you shiver. When your bra came off, he paused, just looking, eyes dark and reverent.

“Fuck… look at you,” he breathed. “So pretty. Been thinking about these for way too long.”

He lowered his head and took one nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, tongue swirling. Your back arched and a soft sound escaped you. Eddie groaned against your skin like the noise alone was doing things to him.

“Love the sounds you make,” he murmured, switching to the other side, one hand cupping and squeezing while his mouth worked. “Gonna make you even louder in a minute.”

Clothes came off slowly between kisses and soft laughter. When you were both down to nothing, Eddie guided you onto the bed like you were something precious. He settled between your thighs, kissing down your stomach, nuzzling the soft skin there.

“Gonna taste you now,” he warned, voice filthy and sweet at the same time. “Wanna feel you come on my tongue before I fuck you. That okay?”

“Please,” you managed.

He didn’t rush. He licked broad and slow, groaning like you tasted better than anything he’d ever had. His tongue circled your clit, then flattened against it, and two of his long fingers slid inside you- careful, checking your face the whole time. The stretch burned a little at first, but he was patient, curling them just right, finding that spot that made your hips jerk.

“There she is,” he praised, voice muffled against you. “Fuck, you’re so tight. So wet for me already. Been wanting this pussy for so long, pretty girl. Gonna take such good care of it.”

He worked you open with his fingers and mouth until your legs were shaking, until you were gasping his name and coming hard against his tongue. Eddie didn’t stop until you were whimpering from oversensitivity, kissing your inner thighs and murmuring how good you were, how beautiful you looked falling apart for him.

When he finally crawled back up your body, his mouth was shiny and he was grinning like he’d won the lottery.

“Still with me?” he asked, brushing hair from your face.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Eddie… please.”

He kissed you again, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Then he reached toward the nightstand out of habit, fingers brushing a condom wrapper- but he paused, looking at you.

“You on anything?” he asked quietly. “I’ve got one if you want it. No pressure either way.”

You shook your head, heart pounding. “I’m on birth control. I… I want to feel you. All of you.”

Eddie’s eyes fluttered shut for a second like the words physically hit him. When he opened them again they were darker, softer.

“Fuck. Okay. Yeah. I’ve got you.”

He lined himself up, the head of his cock dragging through your slick folds. He was big- not in a scary way, but enough that you felt the stretch even before he pushed in. Eddie went slow. So slow. One hand laced with yours beside your head, the other stroking your hip, your thigh, anywhere he could reach.

“Breathe for me, sweetheart,” he whispered against your lips. “That’s it. Just like that. God, you feel… fuck, you feel perfect. So warm. So tight around me.”

He pushed in another inch, pausing when you tensed, kissing your cheek, your jaw, your mouth.

“You’re doing so good. I’ve got you. Tell me if it’s too much.”

It stung a little, then burned, then melted into something fuller, deeper. When he was finally all the way inside you, buried to the hilt, Eddie let out a shaky groan and pressed his forehead to yours.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “I’m inside you. Really inside you. You okay?”

You nodded, overwhelmed, clinging to his shoulders. “Move… please.”

He started slow- long, deep strokes that let you feel every inch. His dirty talk never stopped, but it stayed wrapped in that gentle, caring tone.

“Feel that? That’s all me, baby. Stretching this pretty little virgin pussy so nice. You’re taking me so well. Fuck, I can feel you squeezing me every time I talk like this.”

He kissed you through it, rocked into you steady and careful, one hand slipping between you to rub your clit in slow circles.

“Gonna make you come again while I’m inside you. Wanna feel you fall apart on my cock. You’re so fucking beautiful like this. All mine right now.”

The second orgasm built slower. When it hit, you cried out his name and Eddie groaned like it was the hottest thing he’d ever heard. He fucked you through it, pace still controlled, still gentle, even as his own control started to fray.

“Can I come inside you?” he asked, voice wrecked. “Please, sweetheart- I’m so close. Wanna fill you up.”

“Yes,” you gasped. “Eddie- yes.”

He came with a low, broken moan, hips stuttering, cock pulsing deep inside you as he buried his face in your neck and whispered your name like a prayer. You felt every throb, every spurt of warmth, and it made you clench around him again.

For a long minute afterward, neither of you moved. Eddie stayed inside you, breathing hard, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder, your collarbone, your lips. When he finally pulled out, he did it carefully, murmuring apologies when you winced, then immediately gathered you against his chest.

“You okay?” he asked again, softer now, the filthy edge gone, replaced by pure Eddie tenderness. “Was that… was it good for you?”

You nodded against his chest, still floating. “It was perfect.”

He let out a relieved little laugh and kissed the top of your head, one hand stroking slow circles on your back.

“Good. ‘Cause I’ve been wanting to do that with you for a really long time.” He paused, then added with a sleepy, satisfied grin, “And I’m gonna want to do it again. A lot. But only when you’re ready. No rush.”

The high was still humming in your veins, but the warmth in your chest had nothing to do with the weed. Eddie Munson- your Eddie- was holding you like you were something he’d been afraid to break and now couldn’t stop touching.

You smiled into his skin.

“Next time,” you whispered, “I want you to be a little less gentle.”

Eddie’s laugh was low and delighted.

“Oh, sweetheart… you’re gonna be the death of me.”

He pulled the blanket over both of you, tucked you closer, and let the music from the living room drift in while his fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm.

He still told the story like it was yesterday- how he’d been mid-solo, headbanging like an idiot, when he caught sight of you in the crowd. Said his fingers slipped on the fretboard for the first time in years. After the set he’d practically tripped over his own boots trying to get to you, all nervous energy and wild curls, offering you a beer with shaking hands. You’d taken one look at those big brown eyes and decided right then and there that this metalhead disaster was yours. He’d been pretty inexperienced before that night- shy about his own wants, unsure how to ask for what he needed. You’d taken the lead that first time, and every time since, and he melted for it like he was born to.

Tonight, though? Tonight you were both very drunk, very in love, and very done pretending you weren’t about to combust.

Robin was arguing with Steve about whether the movie’s killer was “actually hot or just tall,” Nancy was giggling into her cup, and Eddie kept leaning over to press sloppy, smiling kisses against your neck.

“Baby,” he murmured, voice low and a little raspy from the whiskey, “if you keep looking at me like that I’m gonna do something real stupid in front of our friends.”

You turned, caught his bottom lip between your teeth for a second, and felt him shiver. “Good thing Steve has a guest room, huh?”

His eyes went wide and dark, that dopey, heart-eyes grin spreading across his face. “You’re gonna kill me. I love you so fucking much it’s embarrassing.”

“Shut up and come upstairs with me, Munson.”

You didn’t have to ask twice.

The two of you stumbled up the stairs in a tangle of limbs and muffled laughter, Eddie nearly face-planting into the railing because he refused to stop kissing your shoulder. Steve yelled something about “not breaking the bed” from downstairs- you flipped him off without looking back.

The guest room was dark except for the soft spill of hallway light under the door. You closed it behind you with a quiet click. Eddie stood there in the middle of the room looking at you like you hung the goddamn moon- flushed cheeks, messy curls, Hellfire shirt half-untucked, cock already starting to strain against his jeans.

You crossed the space slowly, deliberately, and pushed him backward until the backs of his knees hit the bed. He sat down hard, looking up at you with that perfect mix of adoration and hunger.

“Been thinking about you all night,” you said, voice low as you climbed into his lap, straddling him. Your hands slid into his hair, tugging just enough to tip his head back. “Watching you laugh with everyone, watching you watch me… fuck, Eddie. You have any idea what you do to me?”

He let out a shaky breath, hands settling on your hips like he was afraid you’d disappear. “I- yeah. Same. God, I still can’t believe you picked me that night at the Hideout. I was such a mess. Still kinda am.”

You rocked your hips down against the hard line of him and he groaned, forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“You’re my mess,” you whispered against his ear. “And tonight I’m gonna remind you exactly who you belong to.”

Eddie whimpered- actually whimpered- and the sound went straight between your legs.

You pushed him flat onto his back and took your time peeling his shirt off, kissing every inch of pale skin and ink you revealed. His nipples were already tight- you licked over one and he arched with a sharp, desperate sound.

“Shhh, keep it down baby. You're too loud, ” you murmured. “Hands above your head.”

He obeyed instantly, fingers curling into the comforter. You rewarded him by kissing down his stomach, unbuttoning his jeans, and freeing his cock. He was already leaking, flushed dark at the tip. You wrapped your hand around him and gave one slow stroke.

“Look at you,” you praised, voice warm and filthy at the same time. “So hard for me already. Such a good boy.”

Eddie’s hips jerked. “Please- fuck, please touch me. I’ll be good, I swear.”

You smiled, slow and wicked, and leaned down to drag your tongue along the underside of his cock. He made a broken little noise that you felt in your bones. You took the head into your mouth, sucking gently, just enough to tease, while your hand worked the rest of him. Every time he tried to thrust up you pulled back, keeping him right on the edge.

“Eyes on me,” you ordered softly when his head started to tip back. He snapped his gaze down immediately, pupils blown, lips parted. “Good. That’s my pretty boy.”

You stripped out of your own clothes while he watched, helpless and hungry. When you were finally bare you climbed back over him, but instead of sinking down you shifted higher, knees bracketing his head.

“Open,” you said.

Eddie moaned like you’d given him a gift and immediately licked a broad, eager stripe through your folds. You lowered yourself onto his mouth and rode his tongue in slow, deliberate rolls of your hips. He ate you like a man starved- messy, devoted, moaning into your pussy every time you praised him.

“Fuck, just like that… good boy, Eddie. Use that tongue. You’re making me so wet for you.”

His hands stayed above his head even though you could tell he was dying to grab your thighs. You rewarded his obedience by grinding down harder, letting him feel how soaked you were. When your thighs started to shake you pulled back, laughing breathlessly at the wrecked, shiny-mouthed look on his face.

“Not yet,” you told him, kissing the whine off his lips. “I want you inside me when I come.”

You reached between your bodies, lined him up, and sank down in one slow, perfect glide. The stretch punched a moan out of both of you. Eddie’s hands flew to your hips on instinct and you caught his wrists, pinning them gently back to the mattress.

“Stay,” you breathed against his mouth. “Let me fuck you.”

He nodded frantically, eyes glassy with alcohol and lust and so much love it made your chest ache. You started to move- slow, deep rolls of your hips that had him gasping your name like a prayer. Every time you lifted up you clenched around him- every time you sank down you circled your hips just the way he liked.

“You feel so fucking good,” you told him, voice rough. “Filling me up perfectly. My sweet rockstar. All mine.”

Eddie was gone- whimpering, babbling, hips twitching up to meet you but never taking control. “Love you- fuck, I love you so much- please, baby, please let me touch you-”

You let go of his wrists. His hands immediately went to your waist, your breasts, your thighs- everywhere at once, reverent and desperate. You leaned down, braced your hands on his chest, and rode him harder, the wet sound of your bodies filling the room.

“Gonna come for me, pretty boy?” you panted. “Gonna fill me up while I come on your cock?”

“Yes- yes, please, I’m so close- please let me-”

You reached between you and rubbed tight circles over your clit, clenching around him as your orgasm hit. The feeling of you pulsing around him dragged Eddie over the edge with a broken cry of your name. He came hard, hips jerking, spilling deep inside you while you kept moving through it, drawing it out until both of you were shaking.

You collapsed onto his chest, both of you panting and laughing a little from the intensity and the alcohol still buzzing in your veins. Eddie’s arms wrapped around you instantly, holding you like he never wanted to let go.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled into your hair, still catching his breath. “I think you actually broke my brain. How are you this hot?”

You smiled against his neck, pressing soft kisses there. “Told you I’d take care of you.”

He rolled you both gently so you were on your sides, still tucked inside you, neither of you ready to move yet. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back.

“Remember that first night?” he asked quietly, voice warm and a little awed. “I was so nervous I could barely speak. And you just… knew. Took my hand and showed me exactly what I needed. I fell in love with you right there in that shitty bar. Still falling.”

You cupped his face, thumb brushing his cheekbone. “I know, baby. I saw it in your eyes the second you walked off that stage. You were mine before you even knew it.”

Eddie kissed you slow and sweet, all the filthy urgency melted into something softer. “Still yours. Always gonna be yours. Especially when you’re bossing me around in Harrington’s guest room while our friends are probably listening downstairs.”

You both dissolved into quiet, tipsy giggles.

Eventually you pulled off him with a soft hiss, grabbed a towel from the en-suite to clean up, and crawled back into bed. Eddie immediately tugged you against his chest, one leg thrown over yours like he was afraid you’d vanish.

“Love you,” he mumbled, already half-asleep, voice thick with whiskey and satisfaction.

You pressed a kiss to his collarbone, smiling against his skin.

“Love you too, Munson. Now go to sleep before Steve comes up here and murders us for defiling his sheets.”

His answering laugh was sleepy and warm and so full of love it made your heart do something ridiculous in your chest.

Downstairs, the movie kept playing. Upstairs, you and Eddie drifted off tangled together.

Eddie knows he’s gross, but he just can’t stop. He knows it’s wrong and that if you’ll find out you won’t wanna talk to him any longer. But he still gives in every time.

Such as right know. He is elbow deep into your clothing hamper trying to steal a dirty pair of panties. He’s not proud of his actions, but when he feels that soft lace touch his fingertips, all of his regrets go away.

‘Bingo’ he thought.

You were downstairs getting two coke zeros for the both of you, oblivious to what he’s doing. He retracted his arm and saw that the lace garment was a beautiful tiny pink g-string. And it had definitely been worn.

This was the seventh pair he’d taken from your room. Two of them were unworn, he just liked how they looked, but the other five were used by you. Once he made sure you weren’t standing in the doorway, catching him being a creep, he slowly brought the garment up to his nose. Closed his eyes and inhaled through his nostrils

“f-fuck” he whimpered.

It smelled exactly like you. Sweet and musky. He’d sniffed enough panties to know down to the last detail how you smelled. Eddie exhaled through a loud sigh. He’s bringing that one home for sure. He doesn’t exactly know why you haven’t noticed that all of your pretty lingerie has been going missing, or maybe you just don’t want to admit it to your best friend.

He put the panties in the back pocket of his jeans and lifted himself up to stand upright again. Just then he hears the wood of the stairs creak, indicating that you’re coming upstairs.

“Hey Teddie, we only had regular coke, hope that alright!” You shouted, loud enough for the whole house to hear.

“Uhh yeah sure it’s fine!” He froze.

Eddie panicked. The hamper lid was still on the floor, his sleeve is all rolled up, his hair is frizzy from adrenaline. He rushed to fix it all in 2 seconds and practically ran to sit on your bed again, the position he was in when you left. Just when he thought his hair looked normal frizzy again instead of electrocuted frizzy, you walked through the door.

“Watcha doin’?” You asked, in a very teasing, sultry voice. You were wearing the shortest pajama shorts know to man, and a tank top that almost had your boobs spilling out. You had a slight blush on your face from running up the stairs. Eddie thought it was the prettiest sight he’d ever seen.

“Were you being gross?” You joked. But Eddie’s face dropped.

“W-what, no why, why would you think that?” He tried his best to sound nonchalant and chill, but he just miserably failed. He fidgeted with his rings, a telltale sign that he was nervous.

“God Teddie, I’m just messing with you” you smiled. You set the cokes down on your nightstand and climbed to sit on your bed. “You’re so cute.” Your finger booped his nose, he just watched in horror. Absolutely terrified you caught him snatching and smelling your undies.

“Anyways do you wanna watch a movie?” You gave him the can and broke yours open. Eddie anxiously gulped half the thing before answering you. “Yeah sure what d’you have in mind?” He sat upright in your bed, and you only crawled closer to him. You settled down laying sideways next to him, resting your head on your hand palm.

“I rented this really scary looking horror movie at the video store, Robin recommended it to me, but I’m too scared to watch it on my own.”

If Eddie didn’t know any better he’d think you were flirting with him, but you were just always like this. Charismatic and sweet. It killed him.

“Yeah sure let’s do it.” he nodded. He loved watching scary movies with you, because you always crawled on top of him and made little whimper noises when you were scared. He’d imagine that he was letting make those noises. He’s got it bad for you.

You took the tape out of the Family Video bag and put it in your tv. You bent at an angle that made Eddie even harder in his jeans. You tiny shorts were riding up your ass, and he practically saw everything. He needed to quickly find a pillow to put over his lap, or else he’ll have to endure the horribly awkward conversation of why he had a boner.

You crawled back into the bed, where Eddie was lying. “You’ll protect me right Teddie?” You tried your hardest to pout at him and not burst into laughter. Little did you know that looking up at him with pleading eyes did not help his little situation.

You settled in by his side, your legs over his stomach. Your head was resting on his heaving chest, you were so close that he could smell your shampoo. It was making his mind go hazy.

After about 30 minutes into the movie, it was getting really creepy and you wanted to be even closer to Eddie. You mindlessly put your socked feet over his crotch. He removed the pillow a while ago when he thought his erection wasn’t that noticeable anymore. He had to do math equations in his head in order not to focus on having the best view ever of your cleavage.

A very sudden jumpscare came up, you whimpered and buried your face further into his chest. Your soles were rubbing together on his half hard cock. You didn’t even notice. But god did Eddie wanna throw you on the bed and make you give him a foot job. He just wants to suck on them and make them all wet and good for stroking his thick cock.

Eddie really had to steady his breathing before it became seriously noticeable.

“Jeez, why do they have to make these movies so gross and bloody.”

“Yeah, mhmm.” Eddie grunted while squeezing his eyes closed in order to keep his moans in his throat. Your cute frilly socks were still grinding on his cock, and he has had enough. 10 more seconds of this and he’ll actually cum in his boxers like a loser.

You noticed his chest completely stopped moving, you turned your head back and asked him

“Honey, you okay? You’re flaring up a bit..” your voice was so sweet with concern, it killed him.

“Yeah absolutely, just uh, gotta take a leak!” He awkwardly laughed. You paused the movie on the remote and moved away from his body.

“Okay well, if you don’t feel right you can tell me.” Your brows furrowed, thinking he was actually getting a bit sick based on his flushed, sweaty forehead and his irregular breathing.

Eddie jumped up from the bed and almost ran to your bathroom. He locked the door and left you confused on the bed.

He unbuttoned his pants, and took his boxers off with them, his angry red leaking cock springing free.

“Oh shit..” he whined. His hand grabbed at his shaft immediately, knuckles gliding along the skin. His thumb slid over his oozing slit, he choked back a moan. He kept thinking about your tits in that top, they looked so fucking delicious and they say so pretty. God he wants to fuck you so bad, it’s making him go delusional. He imagines your pretty pussy, all wet and eager for him. You on your back holding your spread knees. He wants to make you his, get you knocked up with his child. Watch your tits get swollen and your belly bigger and bigger. Fuck, he’d suck on those breasts like his life depended on it.

His hand kept stroking faster each second that passed, he was so worked up, he’d cum in two minutes. He’s hunched over the toilet bowl so that he wouldn’t make a mess. All he’d have to do was think about your ass in those micro shorts, and one, two, three strokes, and he’d be at the verge of cumming. Eddie squeezed his eyes shut and let his hand go at an incredible speed.

A bit back moan escaped his throat and hot white spurts came spilling out of his thick cock. He hoped so badly that you didn’t hear the slapping of his balls against his thighs or his pornographic moans that were a little too loud. After his high came down he washed his hands and put his dick away in his blue checkered boxers. His erection never fully went away, he was still half hard. Even after the incredible orgasm he just had.

Eddie was so relieved, but now he’d have to go back and face you again. This certainly wasn’t the first time he jerked off in your bathroom, or in your house even. One time he snuck through your window, thinking you were home. He wanted to hang out with you and maybe even sleep over. But he remembered that you’d told him that that evening you were actually out with some friends at a party. So when he realized the house was empty, he took his chance to snoop through your room quiet and undisturbed. That’s how he got his fifth pair of your panties and your almost empty perfume bottle.

But when snooping through you vanity, he opened the drawers and say the dirtiest nude Polaroid he’d ever seen. His eyes lit up at the sight of your bare tits bunched up in your hand palms. Your lips were so plump and full, it looked like you’d taken the picture yourself, maybe for some guy you liked. Your skin was glowing due to the flash of the camera, you looked like a goddess. He figured you’d really notice if that was gone, but that didn’t mean you’d notice if Eddie jacked off to it.

He wanted to find something to rub off to, maybe some random clothing item, or your favorite lotion. Thats when he spotted your decorative bed pillows. They were soft and pink, the perfect thing to grind himself against. And so he did, it was the best orgasm of his life. He came all over his hand and some drops spilled on the pillow but they weren’t so noticeable. He just left it there, didn’t care to clean it up. After that he took your panties and perfume and went home.

Eddie twisted the lock on the bathroom door, the sound caught your attention. Your eyes went from the ceiling to the door in a split second. Eddie came out of the door like nothing happened in there. He still looked a little flushed, but then again you believed that was because he was ‘sick’.

“Hey hon, you okay?” You twisted your body to his direction, and looked at him with a pout.

“Of course, yeah no uhm, I just had to empty my stomach in there. You were right, I was sick!” He told you nervously.

Eddie came back into bed with you, and finished the movie together. When he got home later in the evening, he jerked off 4 more times just thinking of how delicious you looked tonight. Thinking of his best friend.

A few days later you went over to Eddies trailer, you promised him you’d make him some actual dinner and sleep over. He opened the door to find you with two large grocery bags full of fresh food and actual edible things.

“Okay what’d you think of lasagne with a veggie soup on the side?” You questioned, no idea if he’d even like that. Eddie was caught by surprise, because you’d usually say at least hello, but you just dove right in with the questions.

“That sounds delicious babe.” He let you in and closed the door. He thought you were just so cute, afraid of him not liking lasagne or soup, when all he ate for dinner the past year has been microwaved noodles with ketchup. It’s really sad actually.

The plastic bags banged on the counter when you slammed them on the counter. “Sorry they’re just really heavy, god. Okay, uhm, can I maybe take a shower. Sorry, it’s just that I’m really sweaty and it’s so hot out. I just feel gross.” You had a difficult look on your face.

Eddies eyes widened, you, talking a shower, at his house?! This must’ve been heaven or something. Flabbergasted, he answered

“Of course go right ahead. Y-you know where everything is so, yeah of course!” He couldn’t even speak normally, you must think he’s such a loser.

“Thank you Teddie!” You skipped right over to him, grabbed his face and kissed him on his pink cheek. He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t move. Eyes widened like dinner plates, he watched you walk to his bathroom.

You were halfway through the doorway and remembered to say

“Oh Eds? Could you please put the necessary things in the fridge please?” You rested your chin on your shoulder and pouted.

“Will do! Oh and the towels are in the cabinet to your right.” He added.

You smiled sweetly and locked the door. Eddie rolled his eyes over how incredibly stupid he was, why did he stutter so much, why didn’t he offer you some clean clothes? He just started putting stuff away when he heard the shower turn on. The walls were thin, so you could hear every little thing that was going on in the trailer. That certainly was fun for Eddie when Wayne was home…

He did his best to not think about you, being naked, in his home. Fuck, the thought of it made him so horny. His boxers already began feeling tight. He walked past the bathroom door to go to his room, but he noticed the door was slightly open, steam running out.

Shit did you forget to lock the door, or was it on purpose?

Eddie retraced his steps back to the bathroom door, he was only going to close it for you! His hand grabbed the brassy doorknob with every intention to close the door. Then he saw the outline of your silhouette through the mirror, the sunlight from the window shining down on you. The sun rays reflecting off your wet skin. He quickly averted his eyes, lust running through his body. You hadn’t noticed that he was just outside the bathroom, lurking at you.

‘One last peek, then I’ll leave’ he thought.

He looked back up at you, your gorgeous figure. He was so in love with you, his ultimate dream girl. His eyes were stuck on you like a shoe that stepped in gum.

Your hands were running down your thighs, lathered with soap bubbles. His bodywash, his signature scent, that you were rubbing all over yourself. All of you, smelling like him, your pussy too probably. His tip leaking at the sight.

His hand was leaning on the door too hard, so much that the wooden door creaked under his touch. You jumped at the sudden sound, clutching the shower curtain a little. Afraid that Wayne had come home and saw you naked.

“E-Eddie?” You gulped.

Eddie cleared his throat before answering.

“Hey, sorry, yeah it’s, it’s um me! Shit.” He stuttered. Fuck, he’d been caught, you know he’s a creep and a pervert. And you’ll never wanna talk to him ever again now!

“Oh dear god it’s just you, what’s up?” You sighed with enormous relief. You just continued cleansing yourself with the sandalwood shower gel.

Eddie didn’t know what to say, he most certainly did not have a good reason to be there so he had to make something up, quickly.

“I didn’t spy on you!” he laughed nervously. “I just wanted to ask if you…if you got any clean clothes to wear?” He spoke shyly. His face still behind the door. The window was fogging up so he couldn’t read your expression at all.

“Jeez Ed’s, just come in, I don’t bite!” You replied. You didn’t really care if he saw you naked, so what?

“W-what? You want me, to come inside?” He’s jaw was on the floor in disbelief. One of his biggest dreams was becoming a reality. He didn’t wanna to waste this opportunity. Even saying that sentence could mean something so much better in a different context.

Eddie was about to push the door open and reveal you to his eyes once again, but he realized he had a major hard on.

“nononononoooo go away!” he shout-whispered at his cock. It was way too obvious to go by unnoticed, he couldn’t show himself like this. And that’s when Eddie Munson made thee hardest decision in his life, pun intended.

“No it’s fine, I’ll just stay out here, it’s uhm soooo hot in there, with all the, steam and stuff.” The longer he talked the smaller his voice got. This was probably the only time you’d ever agree to let him see you bare. And he fucked it up.

“Oh sure, can you just grab me a shirt then? Thanks!” You said, confused as to why he was talking so weird. You shrugged it off like he was having a heatstroke or something.

“Yep!” He sighed, disappointed in himself. He needed to make his boner go away quickly, otherwise you’d maybe walk in on him. He threw a random black band tee on the sink, still standing in the hallway. “Thank you darling” you replied.

When Eddie got back in his room, he immediately closed the door behind him and undid the buttons from his jeans. Palming himself through his already wet boxers, damp from precum that oozed out.

“Oh f-fucking hell” he moaned. He slid the boxers to his thighs and took his cock in his large hand. With his left hand he opened his bedside drawer and fumbled around, until his fingers touched the bottle of your lotion. The sweet vanilla cherry scent filling his nostrils. That was his absolute favorite scent in the world. He squirted some onto his shaft and sat back on his pillows. Eddie stroke his cock with amazing speed, just the way he liked. Drops of the lotion flung onto his chest and belly, his throat producing the most lewd sounds imaginable. He tried his damn best to stay quiet, but it was so hard when all he could think about was you.

You turned the shower off, the heat was getting to you too now, stepping onto the ragged bath towel on the damp floor. You took a big towel out of the cabinet and wrapped it around yourself. You took your time, when you suddenly heard the strangest sounds from the hallway. A grunting like noise, it was probably Eddie doing something. You put your old panties back on again and the shirt Eddie threw in the sink. You let your hair loose from the bun you put on your head. You walked to Eddies room, pushing the door open, he sat upright on his very messy bed. Again having that rosy flushed tint on his cute face.

He wanted to say something to you, but the words just couldn’t come out of his mouth. He saw you, in his shirt, with no pants on whatsoever. Only those teeny tiny pink panties. He felt his heart beating so intensely at the view. The filthy images flashing through his mind. He wanted to lick your pussy so bad, he wanted to smell you, have you sit on his face, have you whining underneath his touch, all your juices getting on his chin and his nose. He would let you have the best orgasm you’ve ever had. He was still so painfully hard, he didn’t get to finish jacking off because he heard you come in. So pent up, the tears were prickling in his eyes.

“Thanks for letting me use your shower Teddie.” You walked over to his bed.

Oh he loved when you called him that, you started calling him that after he won you that stupid teddy bear from the fair that held a heart in its arms saying ‘I love you!’ You gave him a kiss on his cheek that day, he’ll never forget that. He always imagined you rubbing your pussy onto the teddy when you were horny, thinking of him as you do so. Riding it till you squirted all over it, god he was a creep.

“I gotta use the bathroom, I’ll be right back!” He spoke with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. He took the duvet off of his lap and walked as fast as he could past you, not wanting you to see his boner.

Startled by his actions you replied “oh uh okay?!” He was gone in the blink of an eye, only hearing the lock of the bathroom door. He was going straight back in with what he started. The rapid movement of his wrist made his head jerk back in pleasure. His mind kept going back to your beautiful tits, they were so cute, fuck he wanted to suck on them so bad. He wanted to latch his lips onto your nipples and lick them into oblivion. Eddie had a massive breeding fetish, it was one of his bigger kinks.

Meanwhile, you still stood innocently in his room, looking around for something to do in the meantime. You played with the hair tie on your wrist, a habit you had when you began growing bored. You twisted it between your index finger and your thumb, then it slipped out of your grip and fell onto the carpet just under Eddie’s bed. You groaned in annoyance, sitting on your knees to go pick it up. Your hands wandered blindly underneath his bed, feeling empty cans, a stray guitar pick, a singular sock, and a magazine. Curious and bored you slid it out from under the bedframe, you turned it around to reveal it being a Playboy. The model on the cover was very pretty but you know why Eddie has that dirty mag, the little pervert.

“No way” you giggled. You flicked the shiny vinyl cover, to look at the other pages. There were a lot of different women in the magazine. But one thing stuck out to you, the main focus was a lady that looked a little like you. The same hair color and texture. Same eyes, the way you did your makeup. Same cup size, same bone structure. Odd coincidence.

“Oh my god.” You heard from behind you, your back turned to him. You flung your head around, like you’d just been caught of doing a crime. You tried your hardest to not laugh. Eddie stood in the doorway, beet red, he didn’t know what to do with himself. You had just seen his porn mag, with your doppelgänger on the pages.

“Oh Teddie it’s fine, I won’t judge!” You smiled, amused at his embarrassment. “I just have one question…” you asked while standing up, facing him.

Oh god oh god, this was it. This the moment he’ll die from shame. You were definitely going to ask him why the woman looks like you, you’re gonna know he loves likes you! You walked seductively over to him, hands behind your back. Eddie was still frozen in place.

“Why are the pages sticky?” You bit your bottom lip while trying not to laugh at him. You failed.

“Oh come on y/n!” He immediately said, annoyed. But so so so relieved you didn’t say what he thought you were going to.

“No come on I wanna know!” You giggled, tickling his sides.

“Nuh uh, stop that!” He shouted. He turned around, stumbling into his bed frame. He fell onto his mattress trying to avoid your bullying hands. You cackled loudly, Eddie was so much fun to tease. He crawled up to the side of the bed, hitting the wall with his back. You never stopped tickling him, you could see him wanting to look angry but ultimately giving up and giggling. Eddie kept begging to stop, but inside he loved this. You were actually touching him, in any way, shape or form was literal heaven for him.

You crawled on top of his lap sitting right on his dick. It had just gone to being soft again, but this was really not helping his situation.

“You’re such a pervert Eddie!” You screamed through your giggles

That he was and he loved it.

You were so perfect. His best friend.

tags! bow divider @/dollywons

Eddie Munson, sweat-slick curls sticking to his forehead, black band tee riding up just enough to show the sharp cut of his hips when he leaned into the mic. His rings flashed under the shitty stage lights as he shredded through the solo. The girls in the front row had their phones up, recording every second, some of them already live. One of them- pink streaked hair, crop top that barely covered the underside of her tits- kept reaching up like she could touch him if she just tried hard enough.

You watched from the bar- you weren't exactly as young as those other girls were and you were feeling every single extra year tonight. Your whiskey sat untouched. Eddie’s phone was on the table beside you because he’d handed it to you before he went on- “Hold this for me, baby? I don’t wanna deal with it tonight.” It had been lighting up nonstop. Instagram DMs. TikTok comments flooding in on the story he’d posted earlier of him tuning up. Previews flashed across the lock screen even though you weren’t trying to look:

@hamilhansonn: ur so hot i’d let u ruin my life  

@gemm86: come home with me after?? 

@5lutforeddiee: that thing u do with ur tongue on the mic… fuck

You locked the screen and shoved it into your bag. Not your problem. Except it was. Because every single week you sat here and watched it happen, and every single week you tried to talk to him about it afterward and he gave you that same soft eyed, genuinely confused look like you were speaking another language.

The set ended. The swarm hit instantly. The pink haired girl practically climbed the stage to get to him, grabbing his arm, pressing in close for a selfie. Eddie laughed- polite, a little awkward- and let her take it, even slung an arm around her shoulders for two seconds before he was already scanning the bar for you. The second he spotted you his whole face changed. That private, crooked little smile that was only ever for you. He started making his way over, gently peeling hands off him, signing one girl’s arm with a Sharpie because she begged, but his eyes never left yours for long.

When he finally reached you he smelled like stage sweat and the cheap body spray he used and underneath it, the warm skin smell that was just Eddie. He crowded into your space immediately, one hand sliding around your waist, mouth brushing your ear.

“Hey, pretty girl. You look good enough to eat tonight.”

You didn’t smile back. “We need to talk.”

His thumb stroked over your hip. “After we get home? Or right now?”

“Right now.”

He sighed, but nodded, already knowing where this was going because you’d had some version of this conversation three Fridays in a row. He guided you toward the back hallway near the bathrooms where it was quieter, one hand still on you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

You turned on him the second you were semi alone. “That girl with the pink hair had her hands all over you. And your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing since you handed it to me. I saw the notifications, Eddie. They’re not even subtle anymore. One of them called you ‘daddy’ in a DM preview.”

He ran a hand through his curls, frustrated but not angry. Not at you. “Baby, I don’t even open most of those. I swipe them away. The girls at the shows- they’re just… there. I’m nice because I don’t wanna be a dick to people who paid to see us play, but that’s it. I don’t see them. I see you. I go home with you. I wake up next to you. What else do you want me to say?”

The same answer every time. Soft. Earnest. Completely missing the point.

You felt the anger coil tighter in your chest, hot and ugly. “I want you to stop acting like it doesn’t matter that I’m standing there watching twenty year old girls throw themselves at my boyfriend like he’s the last dick on earth. I want you to acknowledge that it feels like shit. That sometimes I feel like the creepy older woman in the corner while they all look at me like I stole something from them.”

Eddie’s jaw flexed. For a second something flickered in his eyes- hurt, maybe- but it was gone fast, replaced by that stubborn, lovesick certainty he always got when it came to you. “You didn’t steal anything. I’m yours. I’ve been yours since the first night you let me take you home. Those girls don’t know me. They don’t know what I sound like when I come. They don’t know how you taste or how you shake when I bite you or-”

“Stop.” Your voice cracked. “Just… stop trying to fuck the insecurity out of the conversation. I’m telling you how I feel and you’re telling me I’m wrong for feeling it.”

He stared at you for a long moment. The bar noise swelled behind you- someone laughing too loud, glass breaking, the jukebox kicking on. Eddie’s phone buzzed in your bag again. You both heard it.

Finally he said, quiet, “I’m not trying to make you feel wrong. I just… I really don’t see them, baby. Not like that. Not the way I see you.”

You swallowed hard. The anger didn’t leave. It just settled into something colder, sharper. Something with teeth.

That night, back at his apartment- the shitty little one bedroom above the laundromat with the guitar stands in the living room and the mattress on the floor because he still hadn’t bought a frame- you lay awake while he slept with his face tucked into your neck like always. His arm was heavy across your stomach. His phone was charging on the nightstand and it lit up twice with more notifications before you reached over and flipped it face down.

A plan started forming in the dark, slow and deliberate.

You were done with the soft conversations. Done with him denying what was right in front of both of you because it was easier than dealing with the fact that his girlfriend was ten years older and sometimes felt like she was standing on the outside of his world looking in. If he couldn’t see it on his own, you were going to make him see it. Make him feel it. Make the denial impossible.

You were going to push.

The next Friday you wore the black leather skirt he liked- the one that barely covered your ass when you bent over- and a thin band tee with no bra underneath. You did your makeup darker than usual. You sat at the same bar stool and you didn’t look away when the pink haired girl from last week tried to climb into Eddie’s lap between songs. You watched her whisper something in his ear and you watched him shake his head, still smiling that polite fan smile, but you also watched the way his eyes flicked to you afterward like he could feel you burning holes in the side of his head.

After the set, when the swarm hit again, you didn’t wait for him to come to you. You stayed at the bar and let some guy in a flannel buy you a shot. You laughed at something he said even though it wasn’t funny. You felt Eddie’s stare from across the room like a hand around your throat.

When he finally reached you his jaw was tight. “Having fun?”

You shrugged, knocked back the shot, and licked the taste of cheap tequila off your bottom lip. “More fun than watching you pretend you don’t have a fan club trying to crawl inside your pants every week.”

His eyes went dark. Not playful. Something hotter, more dangerous. The same look he got right before he fucked you so hard you couldn’t walk straight the next day.

He didn’t say anything. Just grabbed your wrist- not hard, but firm- and pulled you toward the exit. You let him. The plan was already humming under your skin like a live wire.

His apartment door barely shut before he had you pinned against it, mouth crashing into yours, all teeth and frustration. You bit him back harder than usual, tasting copper when you split his lip. He groaned into your mouth like you’d given him a gift.

“You wanna play games?” he growled against your jaw, already yanking your shirt up and off. “Fine. Let’s play.”

He spun you around and shoved you face first into the door, one hand fisting in your hair, the other yanking your skirt up over your hips. Your panties were already soaked and he noticed immediately, two fingers dragging through the wet and coming away shiny.

“Jesus Christ. You’re dripping. You’ve been acting like a brat all fucking night.” He pushed two fingers inside you without warning, rough and deep. You were already soaked, and the sudden stretch made your back arch off the door. He curled them immediately, finding that spot that made your vision blur.

“Eddie-”

“Shut up.” Another bite, lower, near your collarbone. “You wanted me to see it? I see it. I see every fucking girl who looks at me like I’m theirs. And I see you standing there pretending it doesn’t kill you inside.” His free hand grabbed your skirt and panties and ripped them down your thighs in one rough motion. They caught at your knees before he kicked them aside. “But you’re wrong about one thing.”

His fingers found their way right back in your soaked cunt- fucking you harder than before.

“I don’t pretend for them,” he growled, pumping his fingers hard and fast, the wet sounds obscene in the quiet apartment. “I pretend for you. Because if I let myself think about how they look at you- like you’re temporary, like you’re the older woman who’s gonna get left when something younger comes along- I’d lose my fucking mind.”

He added a third finger, stretching you wider, thumb grinding against your clit with too much pressure. The pain pleasure mix made your thighs shake.

“But you’re not temporary.” He bit your jaw. “You’re the only one who gets this.”

He pulled his fingers out and you barely had time to whine before he was undoing his belt one handed, shoving his jeans down just enough to free his cock. He was hard, flushed dark, leaking at the tip. He rubbed the head through your folds once, twice, then thrust in deep in one brutal stroke.

You cried out, the stretch burning in the best way. He didn’t give you time to adjust- started fucking you immediately, hard and deep, the door banging with every thrust. One hand stayed in your hair, the other gripping your hip so hard you knew there’d be bruises.

“Say it again,” he panted. “Tell me you’re done with the bullshit.”

You were already half gone, but the anger was still there, fueling you. “I’m done- ah-done watching them touch you. Done pretending I don’t care that your phone is full of girls who want what’s mine.”

Eddie’s rhythm faltered for half a second, then he fucked you harder. “Its all yours baby girl. This cock? Yours. This mouth? Yours. The fucking marks I’m about to leave all over you? Yours.”

You reached up blindly, sharp acrylic nails finding his chest through his shirt. You raked them down hard, fabric tearing slightly under the force. Eddie hissed but didn’t stop you. Instead he let go of your hair long enough to yank his shirt off over his head, then grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head against the door with one hand.

“Do it again,” he ordered, voice rough. “Scratch me. Make it hurt. Show me how fucking angry you are that those little girls think they can have even a piece of me.”

You did. With your hands free now, you dug your nails into his bare chest, dragging down over his pecs, his abs, leaving red welts that immediately started to well with tiny beads of blood where you pressed hardest. Eddie’s hips stuttered, a broken moan tearing out of him.

“Fuck yes,” he groaned. “That’s it. Mark me. Let them see when I’m on stage with your scratches all over me. Let them know who I belong to.”

The sight of your marks on him- blood and all- sent a fresh wave of heat through you. You clenched around him and he felt it, grinning viciously.

“You like that? Like making me bleed for you?” He leaned in and bit the top of your breast, right under your collarbone. Hard. You felt skin give under his fang like canines, felt the warm trickle start. The pain was electric, shooting straight to your clit. You moaned loud and shameless.

Eddie licked over the bite, tasting your blood, then sucked the mark dark. “Mine,” he muttered against your skin. “Every drop.”

He pulled out suddenly and you almost sobbed at the loss, but then he was spinning you around again, bending you over the small entryway table. Your hands braced on the wood, naked as the day you were born. He kicked your legs wider and slammed back in from behind, deeper than before.

One hand fisted in your hair again, pulling your head back so your spine arched. The other came down hard on your ass- once, twice, three times- sharp stinging slaps that made you clench and drip down your thighs.

“Every time you watch those girls,” he said between thrusts, punctuating each word with a slap or a deep grind, “I want you to remember this. Remember how I fuck you. Remember how I make you bleed and beg and come so hard you forget your own name.”

You were close already, the combination of pain and fullness and his words pushing you right to the edge. “Eddie- please- ”

“Please what?” Another slap. “Use your words.”

“Make it hurt more,” you gasped, the admission raw. “Bite me again. I need- fuck- I need to feel it.”

He didn’t hesitate. He leaned over your back, still pounding into you, and sank his teeth into the meat of your shoulder. Harder than before. You felt the skin break properly this time, blood welling up and running down your arm in a thin line. The pain was white hot, perfect, and it tipped you over.

You came with a scream, body locking up around him, vision whiting out. Eddie didn’t stop- he fucked you through it, groaning at how tight you got, licking the blood from your shoulder like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

“Good girl,” he rasped. “Come on my cock while I mark you. Show me you’re mine.”

You were still pulsing when he pulled out again, manhandling you onto the couch this time. He sat and pulled you into his lap, facing him, your knees on either side of his hips. You sank down onto him with a shared moan, taking him deeper than before in this position.

But he didn’t let you ride. His hands gripped your ass hard, controlling the pace- lifting and slamming you down onto him, using you. Your hands went to his shoulders for balance and you scratched again, fresh lines over the old ones, more blood beading.

Eddie’s head fell back against the couch, eyes half-lidded, watching you with something like awe mixed with pure lust. “Look at you. Thirty years old and still the filthiest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. Taking my cock like you were made for it. Bleeding for me. Scratching me up so everyone knows.”

He reached between you and rubbed your clit in tight, brutal circles. Overstimulation made you jerk and whimper, but he didn’t let up. “You’re gonna come again. And again. Until you can’t think about those girls anymore. Until the only thing in your head is me.”

You did- another orgasm crashing through you, smaller but intense, your walls fluttering around him. Tears pricked your eyes from the intensity. Eddie kissed them away, then kissed the blood on your shoulder again.

He flipped you suddenly- laid you on your back on the couch, hooked your legs over his shoulders, and folded you nearly in half as he drove back in. The angle was devastating. He was so deep it almost hurt, and you loved it.

“Tell me you believe me,” he demanded, thrusts slow and grinding now, punishingly deep. “Tell me you know I only see you.”

Through the haze you managed, “I- I believe you. But I needed this. Needed you to stop denying it and just- fuck- claim me.”

Something in his expression cracked open- relief, love, fierce possession all at once. He leaned down and kissed you messy and bloody, then bit your bottom lip again.

“I’m claiming you,” he promised. “Every night if I have to. Every mark on your body is mine. Every sound you make is mine. And those girls? They can scream my name all they want. The only time that names matter is when you're screaming my name.”

He sped up again, brutal and perfect. One hand wrapped around your throat- not squeezing hard, just holding-and the other braced beside your head. You reached up and pulled his head down to your neck again.

“Bite,” you whispered. “Please.”

He did. Sank his teeth in right over the first bite, reopening it slightly. The fresh pain mixed with the pleasure of his cock dragging over that spot inside you and you came again, harder than before, sobbing his name as your body shook apart.

Eddie followed right after, burying himself to the hilt and coming with a guttural moan, flooding you deep. You felt every pulse, the warmth of it, the way his hips jerked like he was trying to get even deeper.

For a long moment he stayed there, breathing hard against your neck, licking the blood he’d drawn like he couldn’t get enough. Then he carefully pulled out, and you both winced at the mess- come and blood and slick between your thighs.

He didn’t let you move. Instead he kissed down your body, gentle now, pressing soft kisses to every bite and scratch he’d left, murmuring apologies and promises between them.

“I see you,” he said again, voice hoarse. “I see how much it costs you sometimes. I’m sorry I made you push this hard to get me to listen. No more bullshit. No more pretending it doesn’t matter.”

You carded your fingers through his curls, tugging lightly- not to hurt this time, just to feel him. “I know. And I’m not going anywhere. But… maybe sometimes I need you to remind me like this. Rough. Bloody. So I feel it.”

Eddie looked up at you from between your legs, eyes soft and dark at the same time. He pressed one last kiss to the bite on your shoulder, then crawled up to pull you into his arms properly.

“Whatever you need,” he murmured against your hair. “I’m yours. All of me. The parts they never get to see. Especially the parts that make you bleed and scream.”

His phone buzzed once on the floor where it had fallen out of his pocket earlier. Neither of you moved to check it.

You closed your eyes, the anger finally gone, replaced by the deep, aching satisfaction of being thoroughly claimed. The plan had worked better than you could have imagined.