Shitposting

You frown. “Hater”, you singsong before continuing to scroll. You eventually settle on Back to the Future.

“Is this acceptable?”

“Yes, thank you.” He pecks a quick kiss to your lips.

When you wince at a particularly sharp cramp twenty minutes later, Eddie rests his hand on your abdomen under your shirt, big and warm and comforting.

The gesture isn’t sexual in the slightest, meant to soothe your pain, you can’t help but throb from the touch. Your period has always made you incredibly horny.

Other boyfriends had shied away from anything period related, one even going as far as to tell you to put your tampon box away when he came over because it made him so uncomfortable. He hasn’t lasted long.

You knew Eddie was different, that he was perfectly comfortable with buying your supplies and asking about your cramps. He’d give you back rubs and plug in your heating pad for you when your cramps got too intense.

As great as he’d been with all of that, you were still hesitant to broach the subject of period sex. Being comfortable with the idea of your period was very different than being okay with seeing and touching it.

You’re thrown from your thoughts when Eddie presses his hand against you more firmly, thumb stroking along your skin soothingly.

You throb again, pressing your thighs together. Tonight you were sleeping over at Eddie’s, meaning unless you stopped being a pussy and asked for sex, you weren’t getting off.

“Cramps getting bad?”, Eddie asks, moving his hand in soothing circles over your stomach.

“Huh?”

“You’re squirming. Are your cramps getting worse?”

“Um. I—no”, you turn to look at him. “I’m really turned on.”

Eddie lets out a surprised laugh. “Yeah? Michael J. Fox gets you going?”

“No", you laugh. "It’s just, my period makes me so horny and you’re touching me and you smell really nice and—.”

“And you want to have sex?”

“Yes but I’m too nervous to ask for it because I’m on my period and it’s gross and blood will get everywhere.” The words rush out of you in a huff.

“Baby. First of all, it is not gross. Secondly, do you see all of the stains on my sheets right now?”, he asks.

“Yeah, I do. You’re gross.”

“I—we’re not talking about me right now.” Eddie huffs. “I literally do not care if you bleed all over me and my sheets. I can wash them.”

You open your mouth to reply, but he puts his hand up to stop you. “I can do laundry. I just choose not to.”

“Sure, sure”, you laugh.

Eddie gets up and makes his way to your side of the bed, grabbing your hand. “C’mon. I have an idea.”

He drags you to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you before sliding open the shower door and turning on the water.

Pulling his shirt over his head, he turns to you with a wide smile. “Shower sex! Problem solved!”

You giggle, your shirt joining his on the floor. “You’re sure you’re not weirded out?”

Once his jeans and boxers are shed, he reaches down to wrap his hand loosely around his growing erection. “Do I look weirded out?”

The rest of your clothes are thrown on the floor. “No, definitely not.”

You grab his hand and lead him into the shower stall, turning around to crowd him against the tile.

His hands grip your waist as you lean up to kiss him, pulling you close so he can grind his erection into your hip. He licks into your mouth, groaning as your tongue curls around his.

You startle when he brings his fingers down to slide through your folds, nervous he’ll panic when he sees the blood.

“Hey”, he says softly, bringing his forehead to rest against yours. “I promise I’m not grossed out. It’s just blood.”

When you nod, he runs his fingers along your slit, stopping to rub lazy circles over your clit.

You buck into his hand, a loud whine echoing off of the tile.

“You’re so sensitive”, Eddie breathes against your neck, chuckling when you grab onto his shoulders.

You dig your nails into his skin when he rubs your clit again before sliding his fingers down to sink into your hole.

Your back arches, hips grinding down to get his fingers deeper.

He grabs one thigh and wraps it around his hip, giving him more room to fuck his fingers into you. They slot against the spot inside of you that makes you nearly scream, his thumb circling your clit.

“Jesus”, he groans. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this needy. You’re squeezing my fingers so tight. Close already?”

“Yes”, you hiss. "Please don't stop."

Eddie leans down to mouth at your neck, smearing hot, wet kisses against your skin.

He feels your walls start to flutter around his fingers. "That's it baby, cum for me."

Nails digging into his skin, you cum with a sharp cry, wave after wave of pleasure overtaking you. You're holding onto him desperately, legs threatening to give out.

He leans your weight against him, practically holding you up with one arm as you catch your breath.

You wrinkle your nose when you look down and see the blood on his fingers, but Eddie looks unfazed. He puts his hand under the water, blood washing away down the drain.

“See? All clean.”

He pulls you in for a needy kiss, hands finding their way to your ass to squeeze and grope the soft flesh.

You wrap your hand around his cock, pumping lazily as he fucks up into your fist.

“Baby”, he whines. “I can’t—I'll cum. Need to fuck you, please.”

You nod, "yeah, c'mon." You wrap one leg around his hip like before, standing on your tiptoes to line him up to your hole.

He uses his hold on your ass hoist you up, bringing your other leg to wrap around him as you sink down onto him. " Fuck. Okay, hold onto me."

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you interlock your fingers at the base of his neck.

Eddie pushes off of the wall and turns, pressing your back against the tile as he starts to thrust.

You bury your face into his neck, soft cries muffled by his hair.

"Fuck, baby. You're so fucking warm and wet. Why have we never done this before?"

"Because", you pant. "I-oh shit-am an idiot."

Eddie tries to protest, the words dying on his lips as you clench around him. He groans, hips snapping up into you harder.

"You gonna cum on my cock?", he asks. When you nod, he grips your ass harder, helping you bounce down onto him.

Legs tightening around him, your head tips back against the tile as your muscles seize, orgasm ripping through you.

"Oh my god", Eddie whines. "Can't believe we haven't done this before. You're so fucking sensitive like this. Gonna have you cumming on my cock all night."

You're still shaking, the slow drag of his cock inside of you making you oversensitive and needy.

His hips draw back before slamming up into you, bouncing you down on his cock. "So fucking good. You take my cock so well", he babbles.

Whimpering into his neck, you try to stop the tears threatening to spill over your lashes. You're going to cum again, the head of his cock ramming into your g-spot, making it impossible not to.

You scream, biting down on his shoulder as you pulse around him.

"There you go", Eddie coos, thrusts slowing. He presses a kiss to your forehead, "ride it out."

"You ok?", he asks after a moment.

"Y-yeah. Please keep going. Want you to cum inside me."

He thrusts faster, forehead pressed against yours as he groans, cumming inside you in long, hot pulses.

You're both panting, trying to catch your breath when Eddie lets out a bark of laughter.

"What?", you wheeze.

"I feel bad saying this", he heaves, "because I know it causes you pain, but I fucking love your period."

Tag list:

Eddie shrugs, noncommittal. Of course he was enjoying it, the only problem was, he hadn’t expected to be on the receiving end of the punishment.

“A deal is a deal, right?” You counter, reaching forward to yank at the cuffs, confirming they were still held nicely in place.

Eddie rolls his eyes defiantly and you can’t help but feel smug about the situation, remembering how fast Eddie’s face fell in shock after losing to you. He really shouldn’t have counted you out.

“Should’ve rolled for initiative, babe.” You quirk your head to the side, tongue darting out to the corner of your mouth slightly. “I can’t lie though, this is a nice view.”

Eddie shrinks slightly, feeling ridiculed and humiliated. But, that was part of the idea. Eddie took so much pride in himself and his abilities, that the idea of him being beaten by you—not that he didn’t believe you could, but that you tried to play it off like you couldn’t, and swept the rug out from under him. It was all a part of your sneaky master plan—a successful one, at that.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.” Eddie notices, watching the fingers that walked up his thigh, drifting ever so slightly under the thin fabric of his boxers. You weren’t going to give him what he wanted—no, not yet. He was going to have to suffer and wait, beg for it. “You wanna put me out of my mis-misery, huh?” His voice upticks as your fingers draw closer, the small infliction in his voice sending you reeling backwards.

You shake your head slowly, “Mmm, no.” Your voice is dripping in honey, so sickeningly sweet. “Gonna make you pay for underestimating my abilities.”

“Well, could you at least come here?” He asks, head nodding upwards. “It’s getting pretty lonely.”

You smile—he’s too prideful to just ask your for a kiss, how adorable. But, you can’t help yourself either, crawling your way forward to press your lips against his, giggling at the way his mouth parts eagerly, his chest urging forward to be closer to you, the slight jingle of the cuffs louder than any other noise in the room, even with how loudly he kissed you. You licked into his mouth, feeling the way his tongue chased after yours, outwardly moaning into your mouth.

Oh, he was definitely worked up.

You pull back, a thin, shiny string of spit following your lips, admiring how soft his lips looked, all wet and shiny from kissing you. He’s pouting, not noticeably, but you can see it in his downturned expression, eyes falling slightly as he followed your lips.

His dick is already half-hard in his boxers, the bulge evident even in the dim light, he shifts, moves, shimmies—desperate for friction. “I just wanna hear you say it.” You tell him, a faint smile on your face as you lean back, hands in your lap.

“No fuckin’ way.” Eddie chuckles darkly, glancing away from you. “You tricked me, you knew what you were doing.”

You stay silent, giving him a pointed look, waiting to hear those words leave his mouth—smug and pridefulness be damned, he was going to say those words. Eddie shakes his head disobediently, suddenly too shy to speak.

Well, two could play that game.

You lean forward, fingers digging into the muscle of his thighs, watching as he jolted away. He didn’t wince or show any type of pain, he was enjoying it, as much as he hated to admit. He grunts softly, still privy to your grip. You scoot closer, leaning into his space. He glances down at the bulge in his boxers, past the point of half-hard, nearly fully erect underneath that flimsy piece of cloth.

“Oh,” You say like you’ve made a sudden discovery, voice tipping upwards, “so you are enjoying yourself?”

“I’m not saying it.” He tells you, flipping his hair to the side to move it out of his face—he fails, so you reach forward and do it for him, breaking that teasing, bratty facade you held up.

“Well, guess I’ll just have to keep you like this all night,” You scoot backwards once again, hands rubbing gently at the spot where you held him, red marks disappearing quickly. “You hungry—I can go grab us some food?” You reach for the keys to his van, jingling them on your extended finger. “What are you thinking? Pizza? Oh, or tacos—“

“Fine.” Eddie caves, biting at his bottom lip insistently. “Fine—you beat the campaign, fair and square.” He stops there, much to your dismay.

“And?” You push, keys dropping to your side.

“Annnnd, I let you listen to Blondie on the rides to my place because I secretly like her music too.” Eddie’s looking up at you now, sufficiently defeated.

You grin wide, dropping the keys completely.

“And?” You urge him, dropping down on the bed until you’re hovering over his lap, still not allowing him to touch any part of your body.

“You’re the coolest person I’ve ever met.” Eddie says, eyes connecting with your own, sincerity clear in his voice. He smiles too, seeing the way your cheeks blush a faint shade of pink.

“There,” You tell him, reaching forward to offer a quick kiss on the lips, “was it really that hard to admit?”

“So painful,” He jokes, earning a playful bite against his jaw. You don’t expect the small moan that slips out, pulling back with wide, curious eyes, “What?” He asks softly.

“Did you—are you into that?” You ask openly, following his eyes.

“No—no, not really.” Eddie lies horribly, fingers flexing against the cuffs. You notice, eyes drawing upwards.

You could be nice and uncuff him, but this was just too good of an opportunity to let end so quickly.

“Fine,” You sighs, “I won’t bite, unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

“Well, I mean—“ Eddie stops, searching desperately for his words. It was all so simple. Just say it. You knew what he wanted, he knew it too, “I wouldn’t mind if you did. Only if you want to.”

“Eddie,” You sing, pointer finger tracing a line down his chest, stopping just at the thin happy trail that leads underneath his boxers, “you don’t have to feel ashamed about it.”

“Don’t want you thinking differently of me, you know.” He mumbles, eyes darting away from your own.

“Hey,” Your voice is steady, serious in the way you look at him, grabbing his face gently, “you don’t have to worry about that with me.”

Eddie nods, eyes flitting up to his bound hands.

“I guess,” You agree, reaching for the key and undoing the cuffs quickly, “since you’ve been so sweet.”

You yelp, suddenly forced back onto the mattress, head nearly hanging off the edge. Eddie wasted no time in pinning you underneath him, the hard line of his dick rubbing against your stomach, evident even through the barrier your shirt provided.

“Good,” He grins, all evil and boyish, clearly delighted by how the tables have turned, “my turn.”

"Come out, bunny," Steve cooed as he shined his flashlight through the trees.  "What are you hiding for?"

"She's just a little scared," Eddie explained, calling out into the woods as he continued, "aren't you, babydoll?  It's okay, we don't bite."

"Speak for yourself," Steve laughed, and Eddie shoved him on the shoulder. 

You shifted against the ground you were sitting on, trying to keep your leg from falling asleep, but froze when you heard a twig snap under you.  "Ohh, d'you hear that?" Eddie purred. 

"Yeah," Steve breathed, "is that you, bunny?  We just wanna talk, okay?"

You covered your mouth when you felt the tree behind you shake.  "This isn't gonna take too long, is it?" Eddie groaned to Steve.  He was casually leaning on the tree you were hiding behind; of course he was.  You shut your eyes and tried not to breathe.

"Just keep looking, okay?" Steve replied.  "It's gonna be worth it."

"Well, I knew that," Eddie purred, "been waiting too long to get a taste of that little pussy... what are you gonna do to her, when we find her?"

"I want her mouth first," Steve answered confidently, "you know the ones that act like they don't want it get so wet when they get a taste of some cock."

Eddie chuckled in agreement.

"How about you?"

"Oh god, I dunno— where to start, right?" Eddie laughed.  "All I know is where to finish: those tits."

"Now, don't get me wrong," Steve countered, "I like the way you think but... man, I've been waiting to come inside her for weeks.  She's gonna try to get me to pull out, though, so you've gotta help me keep her still."

"Didn't think you needed help holding down a little girl, Harrington," Eddie mocked.

"Trust me," Steve warned him, "she's tiny, but she's tough.  Not that she'll give us much trouble— just as long as we work together."

"Right," Eddie decided.  "Oh, by the way, I almost forgot..."

There was a moment of silence, and you wrinkled your eyebrows together as you hoped to listen in closer.  Why would they have just stopped talking so suddenly?

You leaned a little closer to the other side of the tree— maybe they were whispering or something— but all you heard was the slightest rustling of leaves.  You dared a glance over your shoulder: your heart stopped when you saw Eddie's face right there, smiling wide at you as he crouched on the ground.

"Boo."

You jumped up as fast as you could, breaking into a sprint; they didn't start after you right away, they were letting you get ahead on purpose, you knew that-- because if he wanted to, Eddie could've just grabbed your ankle right as you got up and you would've been done for.

That was the worst part of it: they were so sure they would get you in the end that they were letting you tire yourself out just for fun.  You should just be thankful for the sliver of a chance... but instead, you were terrified of how much worse they were going to make it for you, as punishment for not just surrendering in the beginning.

You ran like you’d never run before, the adrenaline coursing through you keeping the soreness in your legs from bothering you too much; you dodged trees and branches, hoping to be light enough on your feet to dodge the twisted roots coming out from the dirt.  Your sneakers were struggling to keep traction on the damp ground— it had just rained this afternoon, even now it was still a little foggy from the moisture in the air— but you managed to stay upright even when you almost slipped a few times.

You knew they were gaining on you because you could hear them laughing.  One more reminder that this was just a game for them— but it was all but life or death for you.

Steve caught up with you first, but he didn’t grab you; instead, he shoved you down, knocking you into the dirt, where you crawled pathetically until he grabbed you by the ankles.

“No!” you yelped.

“Shh, not gonna be so bad,” Steve promised as he turned you over— Eddie was standing just over his shoulder, and he bent over to rest his hands on his knees as he panted from the run.  “We just wanna talk, right?”

“Right,” Eddie agreed.

“Get up,” Steve snarled at you as he grabbed your hand and yanked you onto your feet; you yelped, struggling to find your balance, and he held your arms behind your back as Eddie stalked around you in a half-circle, like he wanted to see you from every angle.

"Oh no, little babydoll got dirty, huh?" Eddie laughed, noticing how the dirt and mud clung to your dress.  “Let's get you out of these filthy clothes, sweetheart…”

Steve kept you from struggling too much as Eddie roughly tore your clothes off, his tongue poking out from between his lips as he forced the fabric to rip.  You mumbled, “No, please… don’t…” as he ripped your bra away, but he ignored you— and he snapped through your panties in a second.

“There we go,” he purred as you hung your head low, his eyes and hands exploring your naked body hungrily.  “So sick of you hiding from us, babydoll— hiding in this dark forest, hiding those cute tits— and your pussy, it’s wet, isn’t it?”

Steve kicked your legs apart, and Eddie reached between them.  You tried to wiggle away, but Eddie smacked you across the face.

“Stop moving,” he warned harshly, ringed fingers groping around your pussy until he felt your soaked folds.  He looked at Steve, who looked back at him, and smiled.  “Oh, Harrington, she’s soaked…”

“Knew it,” Steve laughed.

“You caught her— you go first,” Eddie offered.

“Aww, thanks man!” Steve declared, before turning you around and shoving you down onto your knees.  “You know how to do this, don’t you?” he asked gruffly as he started to unbuckle his belt right in front of your face.  “I feel any teeth, I’ll fuckin’ knock them out, okay?  So be good.”

You winced as Steve pulled his erection out of his boxers, trying to turn away— but a hand on your head stopped you.  You only knew it was Eddie’s because you could feel his rings against your scalp.

“Open your mouth,” Steve ordered.  You did nothing; Eddie put his other hand on your chin, pulling your mouth open as you groaned in pain.  Steve slipped his cock inside, running it over your tongue with a groan before he plunged a little deeper.  “Fuck, c’mon, suck on it,” Steve encouraged.

Reluctant, but low on options, you closed your lips and hollowed your cheeks.

“Hah, figured you knew how to do this,” Steve breathed, tilting his head back.  “You act so innocent, but you love this, don’t you?  Slut.”

Steve’s hand smacked your cheek, and you whined around him.  “Think she can take it a little deeper?” Eddie asked him from behind you, and you saw him nod.  Eddie bent down slightly to speak closer to your ear.  “What do you say, babydoll, wanna choke on Stevie’s dick?”

You shook your head, but as soon as you did, Eddie pushed your head down to force Steve’s cock right into your throat.  You struggled and fought for air, pushing on Steve’s thighs desperately, but it was no use.

“Fuck,” Steve groaned, “fuck, don’t let her up yet.”

“Not yet,” Eddie agreed, “just a few more seconds…”

It felt like ages, but he did let you go; you pulled back with a gasp and a sputter, coughing vigorously as Steve and Eddie laughed at you.  You yelped as Eddie pulled you up onto your feet suddenly, his hand on the back of your head again to force you to bend at the hips.

“You can keep going,” he told you, like it was an offer and not an order.  “I’m just gonna fuck you while you suck on Stevie’s cock, babydoll.”

You opened your mouth to try to convince him not to, but Steve filled it again before anything could come out; you mumbled uselessly around him, his hands gripping either side of your head to hold you steady as he groaned.  “Such a sweet little mouth,” Steve sighed, “just like I imagined it.  How’s her pussy feel, Munson?”

“About to find out,” Eddie replied, rubbing his fat head between your other lips.  “Wanna bet she’s tight?”

“Oh, I know she is,” Steve insisted; and with a rough push, Eddie filled your hole.  It made you moan around Steve’s cock, which made him moan, too.

“Fuck, we were right,” Eddie breathed, “so fuckin’ tight.  Nice and warm, too— just been waitin’ for this dick, haven’t you, babydoll?”

You couldn’t say much, feeling horribly full and a little dizzy and totally used up.  They both fucked you relentlessly, neither offering much patience or mercy, or even sympathy for the fact that you were already being fucked so hard by someone else.

“Oh my god, she keeps getting more wet,” Eddie laughed, reaching around your hips to slide his fingers over the drips of arousal running down your thighs.  Steve pulled your head off of his cock, and you panted with an open mouth as he pushed you down lower.

“Lick my balls,” he demanded, and you grimaced a little but stuck your tongue out further.  He moved your head how he wanted it, rocking his hips against your face a bit; his cock, slick from your spit, rubbed against your face and got you all slimy.  “Fuck, that’s good…”

“Dirty bitch,” Eddie laughed, smacking you on the ass— a whine jumped out of your wide-open mouth.

“What?” Steve wondered.

“She clenched on me,” Eddie noticed.  “You like licking Harrington’s balls, babydoll?”

“Fuck, that is nasty,” Steve chuckled, looking down at you.  “You’re really a filthy fucking slut, huh?  Why don’t you just admit it?”

He tugged on your hair, keeping your face still so he could give it a few more smacks.  “Just say it, baby,” Eddie encouraged as well.

“I-I’m a…” you swallowed thickly, shutting your eyes so you could force the words out, “I’m a f-filthy fucking slut.”

Steve held his cock, smacking you lightly on the face with it— when he pressed his balls up to your chin, the tip reached your forehead.  “Look how big it is compared to her,” Steve told Eddie with a wide grin.

“Fuck, she’s so little,” Eddie cooed.

“Or I’m so big!” Steve defended.

“I mean, both,” Eddie offered.

“Thanks,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Tell him his cock is big, sweetheart,” Eddie instructed you— and his hand slid up your thigh to pinch your clit.  You whined loudly, trying to press your thighs together, and he laughed.  “Tell him, baby, and look at him while you say it.”

You looked up at Steve, who had his eyebrows raised expectantly when he met your gaze.  “You, um… you have a big cock, Steve.”

“See?  Told you,” Eddie sing-songed.

“And how does Eddie’s cock feel, huh, bunny?” Steve asked you in return.

“I-it hurts,” you whined.

“Y’know, I was trying to get her to say it felt good,” Steve told Eddie, “but that might be more of a compliment.”

“Yeah, she can bitch about it all she wants,” Eddie chuckled, “I know she likes getting this pussy stretched out.  Don’t ya, little girl?”

Another hard pinch on your clit made you gasp: “F-fuck, fuck yes,” you sighed, “I like it…”

Eddie moaned lowly as he fucked you faster.  “You like it enough to come?”

You whined, but he started to rub your clit hard and fast; it made your legs shake, and you heard Steve laugh a bit.  “Is she close?” he asked Eddie.

“Yeah,” Eddie panted, “wanna cream for me, babydoll?  Go ahead and do it.”

“Think she’ll come faster if she’s sucking me again?” Steve wondered.

Eddie laughed; “Definitely.”

Steve pushed his cock back into your mouth, making you choke and gag again as the pressure on your clit nearly became too much to bear.  You hated that that actually worked, but it did— maybe the benefit was your orgasmic moans weren’t quite as embarrassingly loud, but Steve got a nice view of your eyes rolling back in your head.

“Fuck,” Eddie groaned, “good job, babydoll— coming nice and hard on my cock, feels so good…”

You were drooling all over both of them, in two different ways, and your hearing was a little fuzzy but you caught them both mocking you a bit for it.

“Gonna pull out and coat those tits soon,” he warned, “just like I said I would.  Did you get wet when you heard me say that, baby?”

You did, but obviously you didn’t say anything; you were too weak to hide your own moans now, and the hands in your hair and on your hips were the only thing holding you up now.

“Fuck, fuck, turn her around, Steve,” Eddie ordered; they both pulled out quickly and Steve grabbed your shoulders, forcing you to kneel and look up at Eddie.  He stepped up to you, one hand a silvery blur over his cock as he stroked himself, the other pushing your hair back and holding your head.  “Good girl, want this come all over your tits?”

Again, you didn’t need to answer, it was irrelevant anyways; a second later, he was groaning loudly as come shot out and landed in haphazard stripes across your chest.  Your nipples were getting harder, for no good reason, and Steve watched it all with a proud look on his face.  Eddie’s lip curled as he looked down at you, jerking his cock until every drop was on your tits; he sighed, and smiled.

Just as you were appreciating the brief moment of peace, Steve roughly yanked you up onto your feet and pressed himself up behind you.  “My turn,” he grunted as he suddenly and roughly filled you with his cock.

You whined and dropped your head limply, feeling Eddie’s spend starting to cool on your chest.  He had already put his cock back in his jeans, and was watching the scene before him with a grin.  “Be good for Stevie,” he cooed at you, holding your jaw in his hand and forcing you to look up at him.  “He wants to come inside you, nice and deep… last I heard.”

“Yep, still do,” Steve interjected, “wanna— ah, fuck— wanna fill this cunt.”

“No, please, please,” you whimpered.

“Take it all, sweetheart,” Eddie ordered you with a grin, “take all that fuckin’ come— and be grateful that Steve wants to give it all to you.  You should be fucking grateful.”

You whined through your teeth.

“You should thank me for coming on your tits,” he snarled.  “Say it, bitch.”

He smacked you across the face, and the words spit out of your mouth.  “Thank you!”

“Mm,” he hummed proudly, “such a good girl… obedient little slut.”

“I’m close,” Steve blurted out suddenly.

“She’s tight, right?” Eddie grinned up at him.  “Makes it hard to last.”

“F-fuck, yeah, it does,” Steve agreed breathlessly. 

“You don’t need to,” Eddie explained, “she’s just a fuckin’ toy.  Don’t need to make her come.”

“But I— I sorta wanted to feel it,” Steve admitted.

“Oh, yeah, it feels so good havin’ that pussy squeeze you,” Eddie agreed, “even better knowing she can’t help it.  Can you, little babydoll?” he giggled at you as he pinched one of your cheeks.  “Here… I’ll help you get her there, Harrington.”

Eddie reached between you legs again, pinching your sore bud just below where Steve was ruthlessly fucking into you.  You sobbed and shuddered, fighting the overwhelming sensation.  

“She’s already so close,” Eddie noticed with a purr, “damn Harrington, you’re good at this.”

“Th-thanks,” Steve grunted, “god, I can’t hold on much longer…”

“Come on Stevie’s cock,” Eddie ordered you, “mhm, just like that— give him a nice big squeeze, you dumb fucking whore.”

You came with a choked sob, insides tightening on Steve— who followed suit a split second later, groaning loudly and digging his fingers into the sensitive skin of your hips as he came.  “Fuck, fuck!” Steve moaned.

And that was when he dropped you, right into the dirt again, laying limp and helpless at Eddie’s feet.  They both stepped closer to you, crouching down beside where you were blinking up blankly at the starry night sky.  Eddie sat on the ground, lifting you up to rest your head on his lap; Steve pet your hair as you fluttered your eyes shut.

“Gimme a nod if you’re okay, princess, please?” Steve asked right away.  Your head was heavy from exhaustion, but you managed to nod, and he smiled down at you.  “Had me worried for a second there…”

“She’s tough, Harrington, give her some credit,” Eddie chuckled.  “You know she can handle a lot. And it was all her idea in the first place.”

“Yeah, true,” Steve nodded, brushing his hand over your face lightly.  “You did so good, babe, we’re both so proud of you!”

You smiled dreamily, squeezing Eddie’s hand.

“Wanna go home now, sweetheart?” Eddie asked quietly, and you nodded again.  “Okay, let’s get you all cleaned up…”

They cleaned you up alright… your back on Eddie’s chest in the bath, Steve in front of you, both of them helping wash you off— inside and out.

You whined a little as Eddie’s fingers slid over your sore cunt.  “Shh, just getting all’a Stevie’s come out,” he explained, “don’t get fussy.”

It hurt a little, but you could take it— and they had to get you clean.  You were a bit out of it still, but mostly coming back to reality, which is why you noticed Steve’s focused efforts lathering soap on your skin.  “S’it just me, or are my tits gonna be super clean after this?” you smirked.

“She’s onto you, Harrington,” Eddie laughed.

It was working, though— your nipples were hard and sensitive from the attention, and Eddie must have noticed how much you liked it since he could feel your hole clenching while he was trying to clean it up.

“You know I can hold my breath for three minutes, right?” Steve reminded you, and you laughed as you nodded.  “How long do you need?”

“Depends how good you are,” you challenged.

“Oh, don’t taunt his ego, princess,” Eddie cooed, “now he has to do it.”

“Yup,” Steve agreed, taking a big breath before dropping down under the water’s surface.

Eddie pulled his hands out of the water, resting them on the sides of the porcelain tub; you felt Steve’s mouth latch onto you a second later, and you gripped Eddie’s wrists tightly.  “Feels good?” Eddie assumed.

“Y-yeah,” you breathed.  Steve’s tongue danced up and down across your folds, and the texture felt different with the water than it normally did; not better, not worse, but definitely very different.

“Mm,” Eddie hummed as he moved his hands away from the edge of the tub, rubbing your shoulders gently instead.  “You like how Stevie eats your pussy, princess?”

“Fuck, fuck yeah,” you groaned, “he’s— fuck, he’s got his tongue inside me now.”

“Keep telling me about it,” Eddie requested, kissing down your neck.  Your back arched, and you felt Eddie’s cock rub up against your lower back.

“He’s… god, Eddie, he’s licking my clit,” you whimpered, “feels so good…”

“Yeah?  I know how sensitive your little bud is,” he cooed.  “You can tug his hair if you want him to go harder.”

“Shit, dunno if I can take it,” you admitted.

“Then I’ll do it,” Eddie grinned, reaching underwater and grabbing a tight hold of Steve’s floating locks.  It worked; you yelped as Steve wrapped his lips around your clit and suckled hard, your hips starting to shake.

“Oh, fuck!” you shouted, shutting your eyes tight.

“Not too much for you, is it?” Eddie grunted.  “You can take it, princess, I know how strong you are— I know you can let Stevie eat that needy little pussy as long as he wants…”

You tried to arch your back deeper, but Eddie used his other hand to hold your hips and keep them pressed forward by Steve’s face.  Another jerk on Steve’s hair made him put his tongue inside you again, deeper this time, licking over your g-spot as you whined.  “Steve!” you shouted out.

“Do you think he can hear you under there?” Eddie wondered.  “Let’s get you a little louder, just to make sure.”

Eddie sucked on your neck, the hand on your hips moving and groping your tits instead before pinching and toying with your nipples; you jerked wildly, Steve only managing to stay latched onto you when Eddie let go of his hair.  Steve’s hands held your thighs tight, not enough to keep you still but at least keep you mostly in one place.  “Steve!” you sobbed.  “St-stevie, fuck, m’gonna come!”

Eddie’s moan was muffled on your skin.

You came with a cry— you were burning up, you didn’t even notice that the water was getting cold.  You whined and sobbed and blabbered about how hard you were coming, about how good it felt, until the waves subsided and all your energy was gone.

You went limp against Eddie, and Steve reappeared with a grin as he pushed his wet hair back.  “Well, I think we finally wore her out,” Eddie noticed as he looked at you— half unconscious with your head draped on his shoulder.

“Wanna take her to bed?” Steve suggested.

“Always,” Eddie grinned.

“I mean to sleep,” Steve chuckled.

“Oh— yeah, I think it’s babydoll’s bedtime, hm?” Eddie teased lightly, holding your sides.

After they helped you dry off and get in your jammies, they pulled you into the covers, and even though you were almost completely out of your mind, you instinctively latched onto Steve and cuddled up close to him; he smiled and pet your head, just as Eddie slipped in behind you and wrapped you both up tight in his arms.

“Good job today, princess,” Eddie whispered as he kissed the top of your head.  “So good for us.”

He pushes his hips in closer, cock pushing into resistance, your cunt a vice around him. He assesses your face carefully and decides that you're fine – the vibe always tenses you up. Your hips are locked, thighs tight to his sides. 

"I can't," you mumble tearfully. 

He pushes the vibrator up into the hood of your clit and grins at the hitch in your breath, knowing you're close to another climax. The first had been easy on you but it was also why you'd ended up in this situation. You'd cum without asking, and now you have to be punished. He's rock hard and aching inside you, desperate to fuck you silly but not wanting to overwhelm you anymore than he is. 

He watches your face crumple up. You look like you might burst into tears, and then you're glaring at him. 

"Oh, is that how it is?" he asks, beginning to roll his hips, adding to the wave of stimuli you're under. If you're gonna be a brat, he's not gonna go easy on you.

You reach down to try and push him away but the handcuffs have made your hands useless. 

"Sorry," you say. Sob, more accurately. 

He pulls the vibrator off of your clit. When your hips move up, searching for it, he lets you have it again. He's reluctant to ask for your colour because the scene has been going so well, but he always worries when you start to cry. 

He trusts you to tell him if it's too much. He continues. After all, you look really fucking pretty with tears running down your face.

"Why couldn't you just ask me, huh? Why can't you be good?" 

"I am good," you protest tearfully, eyes closing tight as he pushes circles into your soft clit. He hisses as you clench down, as you bring your hands up up your chest and your lips part. You struggle to continue for a second, and then you say, "I'm sorry, Eddie, I'm sorry, you just- you were going so fast, I didn't-" 

"So it's my fault?" he asks. 

"No!" 

He rolls his eyes and bites back a smile. Your chest heaves rapidly. Your every breath is affected, an amorous twist to each one, pretty little moans that are starting to drag.

He spreads your cunt open with his thumb and frowns sympathetically at your swollen clit. You can't hide how much you like the contact. Eddie knows you're hungry for both his cruelty and his affection. He spits on your clit and spreads it around with the vibrator, totally enamoured by how pretty your cunt looks like this, puffy and wet. 

He knows you're close to cumming and winds down the scene. "I'll forgive you." 

"Thank you," you say, relieved. 

"If," he continues, hand spreading across your abdomen gently, palm pouring comfort, "you make a really pretty sound when you cum."

All your sounds are pretty but you have a tendency to hold your breath when it gets too much. He wants to hear you.

"I want to hear you fall apart," he furthers, holding your gaze. "Okay? Is that fair?" 

"Yes," you say weakly. You'd agree to anything at this point. 

He starts to fuck into you steadily, searching for that sweet spot that's gonna get you to your climax. One hand holds the vibrator and pushes in until you're panting, the other hooks under your knee to hold up your thigh and it's not long before he's fucking in as deep as he can, biting his cheek to stop from showering you in praises. 

A second before you shatter he leans down to kiss your trembling hands. The handcuffs clink as you try to cup his face. Fuck, he loves you. 

You cum and make the prettiest moan he's ever heard, clamping down so hard that he has to pull out. 

"Eddie, Eddie please," you say, though he's not sure what you want. He holds the vibrator in place until fat tears are rolling down both cheeks and you're squirming away from him, turning it off and tossing it to the side with little care. 

You gasp for air. He lets your thigh fall back over his own and rubs down the lengths of your restrained arms lovingly, your skin damp and hot under his palms. 

"What colour?" he asks. 

"Yellow. Maybe blue," you say. He waits patiently for you to decide, leaning down for another kiss, this one against your hip. Yellow means you want to slow down, blue means you want to keep going but without any pretend games. 

You look unsure. Eddie senses a red stoplight on the horizon and leans over you to pick up the handcuff key from the nightstand. 

"It's okay if you want to stop," he says gently, clicking open your handcuffs to reveal your sore wrists. He leans down to kiss them, too. 

"I just need a minute," you say decidedly. 

"You want a hug?" 

Your lip wobbles as you open your arms. Shit, he thinks. 

He lets his weight fall onto you and tucks his head into your neck. You wrap your arms around his back, trembling, hugging him so tightly that he thinks he might get fingertip bruises over his ribs. 

"Did I do something you didn't like?" he asks carefully. You shake your head. "Did you want to use your safe word?" 

"No… sorry, I'm okay. Don't worry. I'm okay." You dip your chin to your neck and press a dainty kiss into his bangs. "Just dropped, I think." 

That makes sense. It was an intense shift from one emotion into another.

Eddie pushes up to look at you, bringing one of his hands to your neck. "You did really well. You did. And I'm not mad at you for anything, okay? It was all part of the game." 

"I know." 

"Good. Good girl," he says, stroking his thumb over your throat. He can feel your heartbeat under his touch, slowing back to normal. 

You stare at each other for a little while. Both smiling, talking without talking. 

"I'm okay," you say again. 

The tension eases from between his shoulders. He leans down to kiss the sweet corner of your mouth. "You're more than okay. Fucking beautiful. You sound-" He squeezes your neck very mildly, "so fucking insane when you cum like that." 

You giggle as you say, "I thought I was gonna have a heart attack. What the fuck do they put in those batteries? Uranium?" 

He chuckles and ducks down to plant kisses all over your face. "Normal batteries. You're just sensitive," he teases between them.

You bury your hands in his hair and angle his face for a regular kiss. Your lips brush together chastely. He closes his eyes and all he can feel is you. Your nose slides against his. 

"Do you want to keep going?" you ask him quietly, guiding his head back. Your eyes are lit up. 

"Is that okay? How are you feeling?" 

"I'm feeling like you need some taking care of. Can I take care of you?" 

Eddie, as cliche as it is, would let you do whatever it is you wanted to do. He beams at you and struggles backwards onto his haunches, pulling you up with him as he goes, careful of your poor wrists. "Do your worst, sweetheart," he encourages. 

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

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

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

How could he not reach out and touch?

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

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

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

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

God he loved the way you looked in his clothes.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

When he gives Dustin a ride from school to home, when the noon is at its peak, golden rays and soft sprinklers making rainbows rise from the soil, he thinks — for a moment or two — that he belongs. He could if he wanted to. When Henderson invites him over for dinner, or when Harrington needs help fixing his car, when Mike needs relationship advice (as if Eddie could know anything about that) and when Robin wants to know more about Iron Maiden to impress the metalhead ladies, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t so bad on this side of town.

That is until he saw you. And he realized then why everyone called this part of Hawkins a slice of paradise.

Pretty college student. Cut-off shorts from the Gap paired with baggy baseball tees, and a cute nose always stuffed in a romance novel or — some days — a textbook. Glossy lips, adorable socks and checkered picnic blankets where you’d lay out on the too-pristine yard, kicking your legs back and forth as if acting like eye candy was your specialty. 

The perfect poster girl of Hawkins with just enough rough edges to be labelled the girl next door. 

Only, Eddie doesn’t live next door to you. Dustin does. 

“The least you could tell me is her name, Henderson. I don’t want gas money, I want her name. Spelled out for me, syllable by syllable. Government name.” Eddie rambles, shifting impatiently in the driver’s seat as Dustin leans over the passenger window from the outside. “We’re sitting ducks here, man. What if she sees us spying on her damn fence like some creeps?”

The curly-haired sophomore sighs, fingers strung together as he frowns at his older friend, “You are a grown ass man, Eddie. All you have to do is ask her, just say hi, make an impression or something! You can’t just be looking at her from afar everytime you come over, blasting this Metallica shit…”

“You are on very thin ice, boy.” Eddie wags a finger at him, wide eyes bouncing between Dustin and the front of your house. “I don’t know her like you know her. I don’t wanna be weird, especially after just putting all this town satanic cult bull behind my ass. She might think — dammit, I don’t know… I just wouldn’t wanna scare the girl, okay?” He sucks in a deep breath, shrugging the thought off with a hopeful smile, “Not this time.”

“Disgusting.” 

He snaps his head towards Dustin, reaching over and rustling the cap on his head with a playful smirk. “You’re disgusting, you fuckin’ booger.”

And as if on cue, like every other day he’s been through this neighborhood, Eddie watches your figure emerge from the porch, picnic blanket and weathered paperback in hand. His jaw goes slack at the image of your denim overall-clad frame, nothing but a bikini-like bra underneath the number while a fresh cigarette dangles from your lips. So much skin — the exposed flesh of your neck, the salty beads of sweat rolling down your collarbone, the cherubic glow of your complexion and the alluring blush of your lips as you sit out on the yard. 

Fuck.

A loud boom pulls the metalhead from his trance. Dustin’s palm comes down against the flimsy van door. “Earth to Eddie? Get a grip, you’re drooling.” 

And all he can really say is: “She’s so damn pretty.”

Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s just really that in-deep with a girl who he has never, ever spoken to. Maybe he’s a pervert rather than a misunderstood freak and this is all just completely wrong of him. But, god, it feels so right to stare. Eddie can’t help it, especially once you catch sight of Dustin and send him an adorable little wave — then your eyes flicker over to Eddie’s dumbfounded expression inside the van, where you wave at him too. 

And the twenty one year-old swears he dies. Right at that moment. His heart skips several beats all at once, possibly even flatlining as a small smile falls upon your graceful features, bursting right out of his chest even as you look away and immediately redirect your attention to the walkman in your pocket like you hadn’t just casually murdered him alive. 

Fuck me, he thinks.

The next time Eddie sees you, he gets a little more than a wave. He’s reveling in this newfound attention as he bounces down the steps of Dustin’s porch and catches sight of you on the other side of the fence, already staring his way before he sends you a nerdy two-finger salute with a close-lipped smile. And just before he reaches the sidewalk, your sweet voice stops him in his determined tracks. 

“Metallica at three p.m. in this neighborhood is a death wish, you know.” 

Eddie turns slowly on his heels, shoes facing you before his whole body follows hesitantly. He’s trying to wipe off that stupid expression on his face, lips parted into a skinny ‘O’ that makes him look like a fish out of water as you finally make eye contact. He heats up immediately from the inside, belly churning and throat tightening when you give him a once over. And it seems like you don’t exactly care for subtlety either — blown pupils raking over his tattooed arms, taking in the torn rips of his shirt-turned-tank-top and the tanlines just above his elbows. 

He hopes you think that the scars on his body are just as badass (if not, more) than his tats. 

Say something. “Didn’t know music was on a schedule.” Eddie manages to follow along with a shrug, lips tugging to the side nervously.

In response, you smile. You fucking smile as if he hadn’t just said the most stupid response ever. It’s gentle, airy, almost effortless as crescent-like lines shape your warm cheeks and you cup a hand over your eyes, adorably squinting through the bright sunlight. “Oh, believe me, I had Iron Maiden on blast one time and ever since then, the whole block has been thinking I’m some sort of cult apologist.”

His heart grows like a balloon filling with helium, voice even going so far to climb several octaves of excitement as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You… you listen to that kind of stuff?”

You play with the lacy strap of your top. You’re beaming widely at him from the other side of the fence. “Do you judge books by their covers, mister?”

“No, ma’am.” Eddie swipes the glistening pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, stifling the grin that threatens to spread across his mouth. Sheepish, he shakes his head. “I think I underestimated you then. I’m… I’m sorry I…”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I have a bunch of mixtapes back in my room. Ozzy, Dio, some Sabbath. No one really gets it, but you… you seem like you do.”

And Eddie wonders: could you get any more damn perfect? The suburban denim dream, the girl next door, the quintessential concoction of every teenage boy’s fantasy and every teenage girl’s desire… listens to metal music? And not just AC/DC or KISS (because everyone loves those guys), but the same music he’s grown up with and loved? 

He can’t help but picture you in your bed, records spread out across your comforter as you switch between Dream Evil and Peace of Mind. Your limbs stretched out on the mattress, shirt riding up with nothing but black panties underneath as you rock out to his favorites. 

Yeah. He’ll think about that one a lot.

“I definitely get it. I do, I really do. I love metal.” Eddie rambles, hoping to keep your attention by stalling this conversation as much as possible. You nod at him with those big, innocent eyes and roll your fleshy lip between your teeth, keen to every stupid word that falls from his tongue. “But hey, it can be our little secret, then.” He leisurely gravitates towards the van while you match his strides, taking note of his quavering pitch and the use of Eddie’s own hands waving through the air wildly as he attempts to withhold his nervousness. “And again, just for peace of mind, I didn’t mean to judge. I figured…”

“Madonna?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles. Feels the anxiety in his stomach build even more. “Nothin’ wrong with Madonna, though. Sexy tunes. Can’t deny that.”

Sexy tunes. Come on, Munson.

But that draws a giggle right out of you, “Sexy tunes, indeed.” Then, you’re both leaning against the side of his van. No fence or Dustin coming between the two of you, just your sweaty bodies and Hawkins’ summer heat seeping through your thin clothes. You hold your palm out, fingers welcomingly outstretched. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 

Eddie’s gaze bounces from your smaller hand to the doting expression on your face before gingerly enveloping it in his own. “Eddie. Edward. E-Eddie. You can…” You give him a gentle squeeze, a sure smile dusting over your lips. “You can just call me Eddie, or whatever. Whatever you want, Y/N.”

“Well,” You laugh again, and Eddie blushes profusely at the lighthearted noise. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Whatever.” You share another one of those looks, and he swears that this time — this time, your eyes do all the talking that needs to be done. “I think we’ll get along really well… Eddie.”

His name has never sounded so perfect out loud.

Eddie sees you again. 

And again. Every time he drops Dustin off. Again. Leant against the side of his van. Talking and talking, until there’s nothing to talk about — but it’s rare. He always has something to talk about, even when his voice fails him and he stutters or stumbles over syllables because you’re so fucking pretty and he’s… he’s just Eddie. But you see him differently than the others, so he supposes that maybe being “just Eddie” isn’t such an awful thing after all. 

Again, you talk. The sidewalk. Along the road. On your lawn. Sometimes, Eddie will even join you on your blanket, skim through your books and take note of what you read, then he’ll recommend “true” literature like Lord of the Rings or something else with elves and witches. 

Summer has never felt so long. 

Again.

Until again becomes every afternoon. Even on the days Dustin doesn’t need a ride home anymore. Even on the days he has to practice with his band at four, but he can always just come see you at three and drive back because it’s no big deal. Even on the days your parents say you need to stop talking to that Munson boy because he’s no good, but who fucking cares? 

Again, anyways.

You’re not scared of him. He’s not scary. He never was.

And so afternoons turn into nights. And nights consist of sneaking out to Eddie’s van that he’s parked a few houses down the street, because God forbid he talks to the innocent girl next door. Innocent is one fat hoax. You’re smoking pot with him in the back of his fucking van for Ozzy’s sake, giggly and unrelenting as you sit next to each other and drench yourselves in the scent of weed and Eddie’s drugstore cologne while Metallica plays faintly in the background.

He’s all man, but soft with his eyes. Soft in the way he looks at you. Crude in the way he secretly desires you. Now that he knows you, really knows you, you aren’t just beautiful. 

You’re completely devastating. 

You take a long drag of his joint, wincing as the paper sizzles and burns orange. “Fuck, I wish I tried getting high sooner. You’re a horrible influence, you know that?”

Eddie hums with a toothy grin, fiddling with the pair of flimsy headphones in his lap. “And yet you still meet me back here every night.”

“Why do I even do that?” 

“Um, ‘cause I got, like, really fucking good ‘A’ quality weed and impeccable taste in music.” He shrugs nonchalantly, eyes following the mold of your lips around the bud. “Easy there, tigress. Don’t hog it.”

“You said…”

“I said, you could have one hit. And now, I’m confiscating it.”

You groan in protest as Eddie leans over to your side of the van and snatches the blunt from you, tossing it into a mushroom shaped ashtray as he gazes at you curiously. “Since when did you become so mean to me?”

“Weed is meant to be treasured, Y/N. And plus, I’m always mean.”

He has to admit — there has been tension between the two of you ever since your afternoon catch-ups turned into late night talking. Maybe he’s imagining it, but surely you feel it too. The bubbling in his stomach when your elbows brush in such a confined space. The heat rushing to his cheeks when you laugh and place a hand on his thigh, or the dizzy rush flooding your forehead when he picks a flyaway strand of hair off of your shoulder. The increase in your heartbeats as you stare at each other for a minute too long, even sneaking in a second glance because you just have to. 

“You know what you should treasure?” You quirk a brow at him. A smirk tugs upon your lips as you dig through your pocket and pull out a cassette tape, shaking it in front of Eddie’s face. “This week’s mix I made you.”

“My mix is better.” He flicks his walkman open, switching out the tape inside for the one you hand him. “Here’s yours, ma’am.”

And he supposes that no one really expected that his friendship with the girl next door would be founded on trading music with each other. Ever since you and Eddie found out your tastes were in alignment, you made it a goal to introduce new songs to him — Madonna included. Sexy tunes. 

You think he could get used to the oddity of The Cure. He thinks he can convince you that Guns N’ Roses will eventually be a rock sensation. You’re skeptical. Maybe.

So you marinate in each other’s stagnant presence, leaning on opposite walls of his metal tin can of a van, holding your own walkmans with ears caressed by Koss headphones and lids shut as your heads bob to the acoustics. Eddie can’t help but crack an eye open, sneaking a peek at your chewed lip and your look of concentration. 

“I like this one.” You pipe up, feeling his stare on you. He glances away before you can actually catch him, training his gaze on the mess of blankets behind the driver’s seat. “You know, your choices this week are very interesting, Munson.”

Suggestive. His choices are suggestive, is what you’re thinking. From the first to the last track, the list of songs messily etched onto the cassette with the most boyish handwriting you’d ever seen, you can only hope that the metalhead holds some sort of attraction for you in the same manner you do for him. 

Eddie chuckles, and winces apologetically at you. “I still hate The Cure, by the way.”

You nod unconvinced, and pull one of the cups of your headphones away from your ear. There’s a smile of amusement, an interested dimple in your cheek. “And yet you included The Perfect Girl on here?” 

“Only because it made me think of you.”

For once, he realizes that he has flustered you. Your jaw goes slack, your pupils widen, brows softening before your nose crinkles at him. “Shut up, Eddie.”

His palms raise in a peaceful surrender, ringed fingers wiggling adorably. “You asked, Y/N.” A beat. Then you’re playfully throwing a jacket at his face and squealing before he instinctively lunges forward at you, gentle hands pulling you back by the elbows. Despite the struggle, eventually he’s pinned to the floor of the van and you’re on top of him straddling his soft belly. “Get off, you monster!” He near-giggles, sputtering as his hair gets into his mouth and he feels your body racking with laughter. 

“You’re so rude to me. Like the rudest. When has The Cure ever hurt you?” You pant out, chest rising and falling steadily as you both catch your breath. Eddie’s headphones haphazardly hug his head, walkman in the palm that rests above him. “Do you treat your girlfriend this way, hm?”

“No girlfriend.” 

“Oh?” 

“Mmm, I thought it was obvious.” He replies quietly, the sound comes out more like a soft moan rather than an agreement. His plushy lips are wet with saliva, tongue poking between the pink flesh as his eyes flicker from your parting mouth to your curious, swirling irises. “S’why I’m here with you.”

“So I’m the second choice is what you’re…”

“Please, you are farthest from the second choice, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, ribs rumbling against his torso. Only then does he become hyper aware of the way your breasts push up against his shirt, the warmth of your skin intermixing with his, your nipples hardening against the thin white fabric of your camisole. Sweetheart, you repeat. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. “Do you have one?”

“A girlfriend?” You ask, tone playful and curious.

Careless Whisper echoes through his headphones; your mixtape is still looping through his walkman as you trail your fingers down his wrists and brace yourself on his chest. 

Fucking hell. It’s ironic. It’s pathetic. George Michael needs to shut up. Why is this damned song on here? He’s struggling to think, struggling to focus on the words coming from your mouth, struggling to keep it in his pants because you keep shifting farther and farther away from his stomach, and more and more towards his crotch. Focus. Tune out that stupid saxophone.

“Sure.” He shrugs breathlessly, tingling with anticipation. 

“Nope.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Not yet, no. Why is this a conversation, Eddie?” You bite your lip cheekily, knees planted firmly on either side of his lean body when you gaze down at him then survey the still-lit joint resting on his ashtray. Silence, then: “Can I have a hit? Please?”

Eddie glances at your lips, fixating on how your tongue darts out to lick at the sticky gloss. The moonlight casts a glow over your frame, highlighting the path of your curves through your tank top. And without really taking his eyes off of your beautiful face, his fingers reach for the blunt, a blush spreading across his chiseled cheeks when your hand brushes against his to grab it. 

Please.

A sizzle rustles through the heavy air as you take a slow drag.

And Eddie can’t help himself. Not this time.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?”

You’re slowly tossing the perfectly-good blunt aside, leaning down and lazily grabbing Eddie gingerly by his chin. 

He thinks you’re gonna kiss him.

And before he can lift his head to meet you, instead, you’re blowing a puff of smoke between his parted lips with an exhale. “Fuck… ing… heck…” He instantly groans, eyelids drooping as your ass pushes against him teasingly like you hadn’t just shotgunned into his goddamn mouth. Party trick. You flutter your lashes bashfully, dimples poking at your cheeks as Eddie gapes at you just inches away from your face. “Y/N, where the fuck did you… learn that?”

You sigh. “Eddie Munson, you just keep on underestimating me.” 

“I really do, I really fucking do…” He huffs, knuckles turning white around his walkman as you sensually tug his headphones off. “I just — just thought you were…”

“Innocent? Oblivious? I may be your girl next door fantasy… or whatever the fuck you Hawkins boys think about me…” You smirk, taking Eddie’s much-larger hands into yours and placing them firmly on your hips. “… but I am not fucking blind… you’ve been acting so off this entire night, must need something to take the edge off, don’t you?”

Fucking Ozzy. He can’t take it. His lips tug into a wince. “That easy, huh?”

Red-handed, you coo. “The easiest.”

“So technically you’re calling me easy, then?” Eddie jokes, heart pounding against his chest as he tenderly digs his fingertips into your love handles.

This is what he’s wanted. This is it. 

And it’s not a fucking dream at all. It’s absolutely heaven. 

Just like heaven.

“Eh, I think it’s endearing. The way you…” He curses under his breath as you lean over and trail your mouth up his jawline, biting his earlobe. “… savor me… savor looking at me. The way you think I don’t notice your stare, when your eyes wander a couple inches down whenever I talk? Oh, you think you’re so slick. I’m not naïve. Why do you think we hang out in your van at night?”

He shudders when your teeth find the cool surface of the guitar pick around his neck. “You’re evil, sweetheart.”

“And you’re horny, but maybe I shouldn’t talk about that.”

“No, definitely…” Eddie laughs nervously, swallowing as he looks down at you. “Definitely not. I’m… fuck, I’m fine. I’m good.”

“Or, maybe I should.” Back and forth banter. It’s natural with you. Too natural, almost like it has always meant to be like this between the eager pair of you. You don’t kiss him, not yet. He can wait. “Acting like a gentleman, like my friend, when in reality you can’t help but think of banging me everytime we see each other?”

“M’sorry, okay? We are friends — fuck, Y/N. Can’t focus… can’t exactly t-talk when you’re on my lap like that.”

Heat pools to his lower stomach, breaths quickening as his hands mindlessly drift down to your upper thighs, squeezing your skin through your little shorts when you grind against him. “Like this? How does it feel? Touching me, feeling me on you like this?”

Eddie’s eyes are dark, almost black in the dim shadows of his van. He looks up at you with the most dilated, entranced look, and you swear it almost makes you break. “Feels… feels so nice. Warm. I just… fuck, I don’t… don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do… Y/N, goddamnit…”

“I think it’s both clear what we want, no?” You press a kiss to his cheek, running your thumb along the skin beneath his lower lashes. His self-control is slowly diminishing, inch by inch, he feels himself melting in your presence. “I stare, too, just so you know. I stare a lot.”

“Yeah?” Eddie lifts a shaky hand, nervously cupping your jaw and nudging his nose against yours. His voice ghosts your skin, raspy and more of a whimper than a command. “Tell me about it.”

Your mouth hovers over his, lips barely brushing against each other. Touching, touching, touching, only to pull away at the very last second. He can almost just taste the marijuana from your tongue, almost taste the honey dripping from your voice as you peck the corner of his lips. Almost. “I look at your arms, and your really cool tattoos, then I picture… where else you have them on your body…” You gasp into his ear as his hips rut into you, his fingers drawing shapes against the side of your face. “Picture your lips on my chest… kissing me, leaving marks… bruises, hickies, whatever you want, Munson. Your mouth between my — my thighs… tugging on your hair because you’d be so good to me, wouldn’t you?”

“M’want you so bad. You don’t know the half of it.” He whispers, stroking a knuckle across the shadow of your cupid’s bow. “Please… let me… fuck, let me kiss you. Please, Y/N. Want it so bad. Been wanting you ever since summer started. Makin’ me crazy, got me feeling like I’m insane with the way I just… just obsess over us.”

He’s earned it. 

“Like I said, whatever you want.” You grin devilishly.

Eddie’s lips finally collide with yours, erotically wet and far from smooth. It’s incongruous, sweaty skin rubbing against each other and clothes rustling as Eddie sits up, your arms swaddling his lanky frame while you crane your neck to kiss him deeply. His hair is in your mouth, his nose smushed against the side of your face, strained groans slipping from his throat as he traverses down your neck, selfishly licking the divot of your collarbone before his palms are venturing under your camisole. 

“You’re so fucking hot.” He whines, lashes fluttering against your thin bra as he pulls your top over your head. He’s mouthing at the cups, biting at the stringy lace of your push-up before he’s tugging the material down to reveal your nipples. “I just… fuck, I’m just in awe of you. You’re the perfect girl, and I get to have you.” He wraps his lips around the hardened bud, moaning as he alternates between the two and litters your flesh in dark hickies. You fist his hair, caving into his frame. “You’re so sexy. Just… fucking… took the words out of me, leavin’ me speechless… I’ll make you feel so f-fucking good if you let me.”

Your head rolls back as he kisses up the underside of your chin, meeting your lips in a more tender kiss. Your nails trail underneath his Iron Maiden ringer tee, lightly tracing over the raised scars on his abdomen, his belly, skimming over his sparse happy trail and the subtlety of his v-line. “You’re all talk, Eddie… wanna make me feel good?” He nods meekly, the veins in his neck flexing as you stroke his brow bone. “Think you should start by undressing me…”

“Christ, please.”

And without a beat, Eddie’s reaching around you to unclasp your bra, tossing it aside so that it lands over the back of the driver’s seat. He kisses his way down your belly, the little pudge when you sit, only for him to lay you down on your back, clumping up a bunch of jackets to make a pillow for your head. His fingers unbutton your shorts, tugging them down the length of your legs with your panties until they get caught on your Chucks. 

He takes those off too. Quite frankly, chucks the Chucks across the van with a squeaky mutter of ‘goddamn shoes…’  before he’s pocketing a lineup of chunky rings into his jeans.

Eddie’s mouth makes up for the dorky mishap, his lips make haste against your tender calves, biting the squish of your thighs and nudging his nose against the glossy patches of arousal on the inside of your skin. He inhales the scent of your cunt, and you jerk with a moan of surprise as he kisses you there, open and fluttering for him while he lays on his stomach.

He’s never seen such a pretty pussy. It emboldens him, leaves him brazen and aching for more even though it’s the first time he’s ever seen you this naked. Even though he’s barely even had you, he still needs more.

“Need you so bad it hurts.” Eddie growls, looking up at you with a smirk as you gnaw on your bottom lip. “You’re just… fuck, how did you get this wet? God, you’re unreal, baby… let me? Please? Let me… let me eat it… I’ll do anything…”

Let me. Let me. Let me. It’s his mantra. You’d be lying if you deny that it stirs something animalistic within you.

You nod violently, biting down on your forefinger as he props you up against the wall of the van and parts your knees even further before he’s shoving his face into you. Your hands dart straight into his curls again, pulling and tugging until you’re holding him by a wiry ponytail, watching the eager way he suckles at the bundle of nerves just at the apex of your sex. 

Eddie feels like a fucking virgin. Desperate. Impatient. Aggressive. He’s too excited — it displays itself when he slips two digits into your needy slit, taking in how you instantly buck against him. You need him. Need him in the same manner he needs this. His ego fires up as he drives his fingers further, running his tongue over and back and down your clit until your grip on his hair becomes suffocating.

“Having fun down there, h-hm?” You croak. Even with his head buried between your thighs, you’re mischievous, challenging, witty. He’d fuck the brains out of you if he could, but honestly, he isn’t even sure if he could survive one second with his cock in your little fist. “Fuckkk. You’re makin’ me feel so good, Eds…” Your head hits the metal wall, a soft bang that goes unnoticed with all the squelching and creaming as Eddie scissors his fingers. 

“You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect, I love the way you look right now, s’fucking hot… could cum just by watching you.”

“Yeah? Just wait — just fucking wait till I suck you off.”

Eddie can’t wrap his thoughts around it. His tongue, his hands, where he’s buried inside you. He’s wanted this, ever since the start of summer, and he’s here with the girl he thought was untouchable — the perfect girl with a perfect, filthy secret that is him. 

You’re grinding your mound against his mouth, quivering jaw unhinged in the darkness of his large van. His eyes flicker up to your tits, slick with his spit and your own as a dribble of saliva falls from your lips, tainting your skin. 

For once, you aren’t put-together. He’s ripping your façade apart at the seams and leaving nothing to sew back.

“You’re a fucking mess, Y/N… oh, I do this to you?” He’s touching you till you’re vibrating and mewling. He’s lapping every drop of you up, tasting you permanently on his lips as he prods at your clit. “Fuck, honey…” Eddie bites you, hard enough to nurse a bruise on the inside of your thigh. “Please cum for me, yeah? Jus’ look how wet I’ve gotten you, sweetheart… you’re practically — oh, my god… you’re practically gaping… you wanna cum that bad?”

You really can’t help it. Not when he’s cooing at you with that whiny voice, teasing and suggestive as your cunt spasms over his pink knuckles. Your hips rise from the carpet flooring, and Eddie leaves another bite-mark on your stomach as slick trickles out of you. You don’t moan. You don’t scream, nor cry. Just a broken whimper and a restrained, quiet utterance of Eddie’s name beneath your breath. 

Somehow, it makes his cock pulse even harder.

He gently kisses your cunt, running a soothing tongue over the bruises he’s left and the dip in where your hip meets your thigh. “Fuck, that was hot.” He smells the aftermath of your orgasm, really smelling you this time, and it ends up driving him nuts. “Oh, Y/N… your pussy…” You follow his gaze, letting out a lewd sound as Eddie admires the puffiness of your folds, swollen and open from his work. You jolt as soon as he tries to spread you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, d-didn’t mean to get so damn rough with you. You tasted so fucking nice, s’all.”

“No, I…” You brush his hair away from his face, pushing his bangs aside as he sits up and wedges himself between your knees. “I love rough. I can take it. I can take this.” Your other hand palms him through his jeans, before you’re dipping yourself beneath his waistband, hairs prickling at your skin as you grasp him. “Do you want me to be rough with you, Eds? Because I just… I really, really want your cock, and I… I dunno if I can hold myself back…”

“Oh, you little slut.” He gasps brazenly as you pull his shirt off, eyes wide at your sudden conviction for him, “Take it. Take me, Y/N. I’m all yours, whatever you fucking want.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

You smirk, helping him kick off his jeans and boxers. Your cunt pathetically gapes for him once he’s bare, contracting around nothingness as Eddie takes your place against the wall. He leans back, and you just stare — drinking him in the same way he drinks you in. Your puffy nipples, still damp from his spit, your darkened neck a testament to his artistry, your mouth parting in awe as you fit his erect cock into your hand. Barely.

He’s big — lengthwise, and it curves heavily in your grasp as you lean down to pop him between your lips. Eddie nearly knees you, palms flying to cover his face as he desperately cries your name. “Y/N… oh, f-fucking… oh, Jesus…” You rake your nails up and down his thighs, licking a stripe up his manhood as you play with his sopping tip.

You chuckle in amusement around him, “Such a leaky cock. You like that, Eds? Mmm, you messy boy. All this pre-cum and I’ve… aw, I’ve barely touched you. Tell me what feels good, ‘kay?”

“S’all of it… all of it is — it’s good… fuck, words are so… words…” He melts even more as you sheathe him into your mouth, stuttering as he feels you hold back a gag. Your whole body convulses, back arching upwards as Eddie watches you take and take and take. “Oh, Y-Y/N… you just keep — keep getting better and better. Holy shit.” His belly aches with desire, tightening with each bob of your head and every seductive blink of your eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Thought about you.. whenever you’d — mmm, whenever you’d lay out on that darn lawn, what if I took you right there? What if I just… fucked you on that grass…”

“You and your dirty mouth, Munson.” You glare up at him in feigned annoyance, jerking his shaft with fast, purposeful movements. “I think it’s funny… how you pretend like you’re such a nice guy when really, you’re only a perv for me.”

“So what? Are you gonna punish me?” He challenges beadily, tongue poking out between gritted teeth like he could win this fight. “Or are you gonna fuck me, pretty girl?”

And just like that, the air changes. He feels the shift, the veil that falls over your eyes, nothing but sex and his scent running in your mind.

“No, Eds.” You move to straddle his thigh; your bare cunt dragging against his scarred skin. “I’m gonna make you beg.” 

You take him into your fist again, stroking him between the generous suction of your lips and the sweep of your tongue. He tastes good to your surprise, and then you’re creating a pool of spit that trickles from his abdomen to his balls. 

Messy girl. “Christ, Y/N.”

You release him with an erotic pop! — there’s stringy saliva connecting you to the crown of his cock, your throat is raw, his dick impatient, twitchy and excited. “You wanna fuck me so bad, you can’t even think straight. Look at my hand right now, look how tiny it looks when I hold you…” You grind yourself against his knee, groaning with him as you quicken your pace. Your brows furrow, a wicked grin ghosting itself over your features. “Baby, are you going to cum already?”

“Y/N, don’t s-stop. I’m beggin’ you, please…”

“Oh, you’re begging? This is what you call begging?”

“Please, s’too hard.”

“Too hard? What’s too hard? Me not letting you cum, or…” You give him one good jerk, twisting your fist so that your thumb brushes over his white-coated tip. “… your cock? Because you’re awfully, awfully rock hard right now. I bet it hurts doesn’t it, my love?” My love. His eyes gloss over. Your mouth hugs the shell of his ear. “You wanna cum?”

“Y-Yes…” He near-whimpers. Desperate. “Wanna cum so badly.”

“No.”

You release him for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. His climax dwindles back to square one, and his leg thrashes out in dismay. There’s sweat beading down your forehead, drops forming on Eddie’s brow bone as he scowls at you. 

You kiss him, almost like an apology, but Eddie can tell you’re not sorry. Far from it. You enjoy this, enjoy getting him off just to start over and make him beg. Is it so sick that he likes it? The more you stretch this interaction out, the more he gets to touch you. Like now, as you swing your knees on either side of him, his palm gingerly clasping the nape of your neck as he presses your face to his.  

“Let me fuck you? Let me be inside?” He pleads, nudging his nose against yours in anguished yearning. He drags his hand over your cheek, enveloping your jaw with outstretched fingers. “Just wanna bury myself inside you and stay there. Don’t even wanna cum anymore, I promise. I promise I’ll fuck you so good, m’not pathetic like the other guys… wanna feel you jus’ dripping on me, Y/N.”

You don’t answer, just gasp into his parted mouth as you line each other up. The angry head of his cock catches on your swell, snagging your clit before his tip lodges itself inside you and he — quite literally — goes rigid. You curse, slowly sinking down his length until your pussy refuses to take more. 

“You’re s-so big.”

Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking burst. “Sweetheart,” He pants, panicked and frenzied as you squeeze around him. Your head lolls onto his shoulder, arms thrown around his body as he tangles his slender fingers into your scalp and pulls you impossibly closer to his chest. “Sweetheart, I can feel every p-part of you… you’re so — fuck, just like that, you wet messy thing.” He whines, the curve of your ass coming down against his lap as you keenly bounce on his cock. He meets you with gentle thrusts, your cunt already milking him thin. “Look at you, fuck, you’re loving this.”

“E-Eddie…” Your tits are squished against his pecs, his necklace sandwiching itself between your damp skin. “More. More. Give it…”

“You can’t take it, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“I can take it. I can. It’s not enough, I’m telling you.” You rut your hips stubbornly, guiding his palms to your waist before he’s carefully rolling you onto your side and hiking your calf over the tender slope of his shoulder. “S’not nearly enough, Eds.”

“Okay.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply as he slips himself deeper inside you. The stretch stings harshly, flashes of white prickling at the cones of your vision as he splits you raw and wide open. “Is this enough? You fuckin’… god, you perfect whore…” Your spine tingles as Eddie tugs you closer by the hip, ramming himself into you relentlessly. “… such perfect tits, a perfect leaky cunt…” He presses a kiss to your ankle, before flipping you onto your knees so that he can fuck you from behind. He wants to see you, see you flutter for him, feed his sick thoughts and relive the nights where he jerked himself off in this very van in empty parking lots to the idea of you. “… and this perfect ass… another hole waiting to be used, right, Y/N? You’d let me use it, wouldn’t you? If I’m nice enough, I bet you’d let me fuck it…”

Fucking hell.

You cum as soon as he dips the pad of his thumb against the responsive ring of muscle. You both grow feral at the sensation. Soaked. Pussy chafed raw from his cock. You can’t tell whose fluids are whose, if it’s Eddie’s spit or yours, if it’s your juices or his — the embarrassing manner in which your cunt just sucks him in, the tight walls of your ass fluttering around his gentle finger as he drives into you.

How is the van still upright? Eddie doesn’t know. 

He’s an Ozzy clusterfuck of strangled, broken sounds and you’re a broken record player of Eddie-Eddie-Eds-Please, I’m cumming!

He doesn’t stop. Even when you’re shaking and bent-half in now missionary, he sheathes himself inside you till his pelvic bone is crushed to your body. “You feel so good, I’m sorry… I can’t — can’t stop, baby…”

“Don’t. Don’t stop, it’s a-alright.” You heave out, interlocking fingers as his glistening cock disappears into your used cunt. “It’s a l-lot, but it’s okay.” Eddie’s body engulfs you, your heels digging into the dimples in his lower back as he pounds into you. “You’re such a good — good boy, fuck…”

“Yeah?” He bites your throat. “Say.” The under-swell of your boob. “It.” Your arm. “Again.”

“Good boy. Such a good boy, fucking me the way I deserve.”

“Fucking you like you’re a slut.”

“Fucking me like I’m not the girl next door…” You chuckle, breathy and airy before he knocks the wind right out of you. “The whole town is gonna call me a w-whore for once.”

“Suits you better.”

You swear your soul leaves your body. You’re dying. You are dead, nearly limp in his fumbling boyish hands as he cradles your head against his chest and wipes the sweat from your eyes like he loves you. His balls slap against your loosened rim, his thumb putting pressure on your clit until you’re frantically pushing him away. 

“I can’t cum again. I can’t.” You sob in pleasure, clawing at his tattoos as if they could save you from his insatiable hunger. “Eddie!”

“Need it, need your cum again, Y/N.” Eddie growls, thrusts stuttering and cock pulsating wildly before he’s spitting onto your sex as if you needed to be any more wet. “I-I think you’re so… so fucking cool, you’re just… you’re too good for me, but I fucking adore you.”

I adore you.

I adore you.

You can’t even talk anymore, vocal chords ripped right out of your throat as your stomach cramps, cramps, cramps and then drops to a low point. Crashing. Flatlining. Clenching hopelessly.

You nearly choke Eddie as a hand flies out to touch him, pulling him close as your walls trap him for a second time. Only now, he’s locked in tight, unable to move, unable to go anywhere and he fucking cums immediately because it’s just too inviting. You feel him seeping out of you, painting your holes with his sticky cum as he stills there like a good boy. He grunts against your lips, kissing you poorly as his orgasm eats him alive. 

He’s milked. Spent. 

Eddie collapses on top of you, one leg jutted straight and the other bent as he embraces you close with his whole weight resting on your frame. How can he already miss something he just had? Gaining your strength, you kiss down his shoulder, fingertips swirling over muscle and scar tissue and ink as the smell of him floors you.

It’s so Eddie. Woody, earthy, with a spicy fresh top note reminiscent of oak moss and a hint of gasoline, dry cedar and herbs. It makes you dizzy in the best way possible. He’s drenched in the girlish smell of sex, sweat and salty but you’re eager to taste him anyways.

My good boy, you think. 

“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out raspy and winded, almost sickly but Eddie knows it's a good-sick. 

“Yes, yeah. I just… need a sec.”

“Hm, don’t take too long, Munson.” Shit. Is this over already? Just like that? “Might get wet again.”

Oh. It’s a joke. 

And he laughs, wheezy and exhausted as he irritatedly tugs his own hair out of his mouth. “You’re gonna be the death of me, ma’am.” He leans back on his hinges to properly look at you, your cheeks rubbed red-raw from his teeth and your abused, achy cunt still stuffed full of his prick. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alive.”

“Barely.”

“Barely.” You repeat heartily, shaking your head at him with a look of bewilderment. “S’gonna hurt when you pull out, you know.”

“Are you telling me to stay here forever?”

“If you admit that you like The Cure, then yes…” You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against his wrist. “… I’ll let you stay there forever.”

Forever. You both push down the giddy, cheesy smiles that threaten to spread across your faces. 

“Never. Never ever.” Eddie chuckles. When he tenderly and patiently pulls out, a wet rush slowly floods out of you, his fingers frantically plug you shut — his thick, translucent cum dripping from his knuckles as he selfishly fucks his hot spill back into you like the perv he is. “But that can stay there forever.”

A freak, but not in the way Hawkins thinks.

You melt at the feeling, limbs spasming awkwardly as he spreads himself over your pussy distractedly. His eyes are so goddamn soft, kind, attentive — even when he’s pushing some of it into your poor asshole, he’s still the sweetest guy you’ve ever hooked up with. 

He kisses your clit before he lovingly hikes your panties up your legs. 

Fucker.

“Did I ruin you, sweetheart? Awfully quiet.”

You scoff, shimmying into your shorts and camisole as Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers. “Just wondering how you expect me to climb back into my window after all that.”

“Who said anything about climbing…” He laughs boisterously, leaning over and fixing the strap of your bra. “What do you say I walk you to the porch, ring that bell and introduce myself to mom and pop?”

You stare at him like he’s crazy.

“Absolutely not, Eddie Munson.”

He finds himself liking the suburbs a lot more.

Only this time, he doesn’t imagine himself surrounded by picket fences and golden retrievers, mailboxes with his last name painted in unreadable cursive or having to mow his front lawn at seven in the fucking morning. 

Eddie doesn’t need to when Hawkins’ slice of paradise is just next door. 

And he gets to taste it every fucking day and night. 

So, fuck it. He’ll climb your window so you don’t have to wobble back to your house with his cum dripping down your leg. He’s a gentleman, railing you in the abandoned parking lot of Starcourt because you can’t handle the embarrassment of getting caught by someone at home. He’ll cover your mouth in the shed in your backyard so the neighbors don’t complain about the howling coyotes that have gone loose in the neighborhood. 

God forbid they have coyotes, right? 

But really, they should be worrying about the devastatingly gorgeous girl next door and her favorite, good boy with a dwindling hatred for The Cure.

Even though, the album is growing on him.