Lex R

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.

You’d worked as the makeup artist on set for the band’s last few video shoots.

Anytime Eddie was in your chair, there was flirting, little compliments, holding each other’s gaze much longer than necessary. Or, to call it what it really was — full on eye fucking.

Unfortunately, Eddie’s manager had a strict “no mixing business with pleasure” rule. And as much as it killed him, he waited.

On the last day of shooting the final video for the album, you were powdering Eddie’s face for the camera when he couldn’t stop smirking — especially when you leaned in close and muttered,  “You really do have obnoxiously good lips.”

Everyone had gone out for drinks after the shoot, a post wrap celebration of sorts. Halfway through his second drink, Eddie couldn't hold off any longer, leaning in to whisper, "You wanna get out of here?" into the shell of your ear.

He thought about kissing you in the cab — wanted to — but the ride to his apartment was short, the kind that barely gave you time to settle in.

The moment you stepped inside, you made yourself at home. You moved through the narrow hallway like you’d been there before, fingers trailing the walls until you found his room.

"It's been fucking torture, staring at those lips, y'know."

And in one stride, he was on you — crashing his mouth against yours, hands cradling your cheeks. All he could taste was the rum on your tongue.

Maybe it was the anticipation. Or maybe it was just you — but Eddie was already losing himself in the kiss.

You’d talked about his lips before, but yours?

Soft. Plush. Addicting. Like the best fucking drug he’s ever had.

He moves from your lips to your jaw, then down to your neck, and suddenly his knees hit the floor before he even fully registers what he’s doing. 

Heart thumping in his chest, the type of beat you can hear in your ears. He looks up at you from the ground, eyes wide. His hands run up your thigh, palms spreading over the soft flesh as he kneads it with the pads of his fingertips, inching up the hem of your dress.

You cock an eyebrow. “What do you think you’re doing, baby?” 

Christ.

The words were sweet, but patronizing. Almost like you were looking down on him, more than the literal sense. 

Eddie swallowed hard, his throat dry. Like for once in his life he was at a loss for words. 

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before leaning down just enough for him to feel your breath on his face. “I know all about your reputation, Eddie,” you smirked. “But would you be open to changing it up tonight? Let someone else call the shots.”

Giving up control? It wasn’t in his nature. Not anymore — not when he had the choice. It had never gone well with other partners. But surely, he was already halfway there — considering he was on his knees for you.

His voice cracked, but he managed a shaky laugh despite himself. “What do you have in mind?”

“Why don’t you go on your bed.”

His body moved before he could think it through. And as he sat on his mattress, his heart continued to hammer as he watched you begin to undress at the foot of the bed. 

Your body was a vision. One he didn't feel lucky enough to be graced with. His hand reached for you on instinct, but recoiled at your words.

"Ah, ah, ah," you tsked. "No touching."

The irony wasn't lost on him. He'd used that line more times than he could count — and now here he was, desperate to feel you and yet forbidden to. 

Call it some kind of cruel karma.

Maybe if he asks nicely.

"Please... let me touch you.” 

"Hmm….. I don't know if I should yet," you teased. “Don't you think you should show a little restraint?"

Eddie scoffed.

You were toying with your prey. And he fucking hated it — yet, the rush of blood to his dick told him otherwise.

Your syrupy, sweet voice cut through his thoughts as your hands moved to unbutton his shirt.

"I'll tell you when you can touch me," you said softly. "I promise it'll be worth the wait. Does that sound good?"

He nodded. 

"Words, baby. You've got to use your words."

Fuck. There it was again. Baby. 

"Yes," he whispered, voice cracking.

You smiled — the same kind of grin he was used to giving partners. Like a twist of the knife, that promises one hell of a night.

"So, Eddie," you purred, amusement curling around your voice, "when you got on your knees… what exactly did you plan to do?"

"Wanted to taste you,” he rasped. 

“I thought you might say that."  You peeled off the rest his shirt, then ran your hands across his bare chest.

"Lay back for me," you said softly, pushing him toward the mattress.

Eddie's chest rose and fell in shallow, shaky breaths — equal parts terrified and thrilled as his head hit the pillow. 

"I'm going to let you have just that, Eddie."

A groan slipped past his lips before he could stop it. 

You giggled and the sound of your laugh taunted him — like a glimpse of heaven he was yearning to get to. 

His gaze locked on you as you climbed onto the bed and crawled up to position yourself.

"Now, aside from your mouth, no touching," you commanded as you lowered yourself onto him, straddling his face.

Eddie's lips parted instinctively, pressing his mouth against you. So warm. So soft. So fucking wet. And all for him.

His cock strained painfully against his jeans, and he moaned into your heat as you mewled above him. Even as his hands ached to touch you, to grip your hips, to pull you down onto his tongue — he obeyed. His fists instead clenched into the comforter, knuckles white, as you rolled your hips against his mouth.

"Ah, fuck, yes. You’re such a good boy, Eddie."

He whimpered at the praise. It twisted something deep inside him, made him ache in ways he hadn't known were possible. And he fucking loved it. Wanted nothing more than to be your good boy — relentlessly tongue fucking you like it was the only thing he'd ever been meant to do. Like he was exactly where he belonged.

But as you eventually began to fall apart on his tongue, something like instinct took over. His hands rose to grip your shaky thighs, holding you to his mouth as he worked you through your climax. Feeling the warmth of your skin under his firm grip, while you writhed on his tongue was everything he could want.

But the look you gave him as you rolled off, kneeling next to him on the bed, calm, controlled, eyes boring straight into his — he knew he fucked up. 

"Oh, Eddie," you said, tilting your head. "What did I tell you about touching me?"

"Right, yeah,” he breathed. "I just... I wanted you to enjoy it," he said, sitting up quickly.

The disappointment etched on your face even further and a brutal realization settled in — he'd given that same look before. A taste of his own medicine. And it was so fucking bitter.

"I’, fuck… sweetheart, I’m sorry.” 

"I know you are. But you didn’t listen…. And you know what happens when someone doesn’t listen.” 

"Oh," Eddie frowned. "I  don’t —“ 

"Eddie." You arched an eyebrow. "What do you do when someone doesn't listen to you?"

"Punish them."

"That's right, baby. So what do you think is an appropriate punishment for this?"

He knew, but admitting it made his skin crawl. It was clear — he'd met his fucking match.

"Deprivation…. I'd edge them. Tease them until they were begging for it."

You paused, a playful glint flickering in your eyes.

Slowly, you leaned in, your lips brushing his ear. “Lucky for you... I'm not that cruel.”

He sighed the moment he felt you press down over his stiff cock.

"Go ahead, Eddie," you whispered, voice soft and indulgent. "You can touch me now."

Before the words had fully registered, your lips were on his — mouths crashing together, tongues colliding in needy haste. 

His hands flew to your waist, dragging you closer, feeling the shape of you as your bare cunt began to grind over the hardened outline straining in his jeans. 

His hands roamed like he couldn't get enough. Every curve, every inch of soft skin beneath his calloused fingertips. When his hands made their way to your ass, your teeth sank into his bottom lip, dragging back as your hips kept rolling over him.

A sharp hiss left his mouth, as you kissed along his jaw, slow and purposeful, until your mouth was hot on his ear.

"You’re gonna cum for me, Eddie," you whispered.

"F-fuck," he groaned, grip tightening on your ass as he buried his face in your neck, teeth sinking in to your supple skin, to stifle his moans.

The praises you were whispering into his ear were nearly incoherent. The white hot coil building deep within him, threatening to snap at any second.

You pulled back, hands moving form his shoulders to his cheeks, cradling his face softly, eyes locked and a sinful grin on your lips. 

"In fact, you're going to cum again and again... until you've got nothing left to give." You rolled your hips especially hard and that was all it took. 

The orgasm ripped through him, hips stuttering, cock twitching as he came with a desperate breathless, groan. 

Clearly, you were that cruel. 

His mind foggy and spent, as you were climbing off his lap and unbuttoning his jeans — peeling them down along with his soaked boxers.

His half hard cock was exposed, still twitching, still leaking.

Pathetic. 

Only it didn’t look like you thought it was pathetic at all. You looked, proud. 

Without a word, you settled on your knees between his legs. Your lips brushed over him soft, slow as you began to clean him up.

"Ahh, fuck," he groaned, voice already frayed, as you took him into your mouth.

You swirled your tongue around the sensitive head, licking up the mess he'd made, savoring the way his body tensed beneath you, the way his cock hardened again.

His hand found your cheek, caressing it shakily as his breathing quickened and you took him deeper. There was no time to recover, no chance for him to catch his breath — just your mouth, your tongue, and the slow build of aching, unbearable need.

“Fuck, sweetheart," he gasped.

His eyes were burning, that feeling when they get all glassy, and he could hardly keep them open. 

You hollowed your cheeks harder, and his hand flew to your hair, gripping it tight, pulling you closer as he started to unravel.

His hips bucked, chasing the friction as you pushed him over the edge again.

"Shit-oh shit, shit—“

His body shuddered violently beneath you, his cock twitching in your mouth as his second orgasm tore through him, white hot cum shooting down your throat. 

You swallowed it all before easing off him, with a smirk. 

His chest rose and fell in erratic bursts, skin flushed, eyes unfocused-lost in the haze of overstimulation. “God. I, fuck, that was.. agh.” 

You let out a soft laugh, and leaned in to kiss his cheek. "You okay, baby?"

He nodded weakly, still trying to find his breath.

"Yeah. Just... holy shit."

Your fingers grazed down his stomach, gentle, soothing but then dipped lower. 

He twitched under your touch.

“Wait—fuck, sweetheart," he groaned as your hand wrapped around his cock. "I don't have anything left..”

"Mm. You sure about that baby?”

Eddie whined as your hand began to lazily stroke him. His hips involuntarily jerking. Even soft, he was still so sensitive, and your touch had him trying to figure out whether he could take any more.

"Please.” 

"Please what?" you cooed, tilting your head.

"I... I can't go again," he whimpered.

You let out a soft sigh, feigning disappointment as your hand slowed. “Okay. If you really want me to stop-"

"No!" he gasped, the word breaking from him like it hurt to say.

The sting of your touch leaving was worse than the ache of overstimulation.

“Good," you whispered. "You haven't even had me yet.” 

The sound that slipped from Eddie's lips was pitiful. He couldn’t help it, though.  You had him utterly wrecked.  Skin slick with sweat. Tears clinging to his lashes, His voice, hoarse and rough. All of it proof of how far he'd been pushed — how far he was still willing to go.

"You ready?"

His throat burned with restraint, the kind that made him want to nod, but he knew better. Knew you wanted verbal communication, so he mustered up the strength — answering with the most feeble 'yes.'

You slid yourself over him again, sinking yourself down on his length. Both of you gasping in unison.

Eddie’s cock felt incredible inside you — deep and thick and filling you so perfectly, like the final piece of a puzzle. 

And your warmth wrapped around him like a vice, velvet heat clenching around his already sensitive cock.

Eddie cried out beneath you, that same pitiful noise from earlier. 

"Does it hurt, baby?" you whispered, leaning in.

Yes.

You cupped his face gently. "Does it feel too good for you to take?"

Yes - again. 

"Should I stop?"

God, no.  

He may be overwhelmed and aching but still he needed more.. 

His wide, dilated eyes locked on yours — wet, desperate. "Don't want you to stop," he whimpered.

The smirk that curved your lips might've been the worst of it — cruel in its beauty, and dripping with satisfaction.

You stilled, just long enough for him to catch a breath.

Then you began to move - slowly, grinding down with a rhythm that made him groan.

After a few minutes, your hips began to rock gently, back and forth. The friction was tender but relentless. Eddie’s hands found your waist, gripping possessively — gritted teeth and sharp inhales indicating his struggle to hold it together. 

As you continued to rock softly, a tear finally slipped from his lashes. Then another. And another one. All born out of beautiful agony.

“Aww, Eddie,” you whispered, caressing his cheeks and brushing away the tears with your thumbs. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

His cheeks flushed, lips parting in a breathless gasp. That phrase alone, could undo him. 

His tears fell freely now, tracing warm, silent paths down his skin — and you echoed again just how pretty as you continued to mercilessly ride him. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna—"

"Not yet," you whispered. "Hold it for me. I'm so close — just a little longer.”

Fuck. Hold it. Just hold it, Munson.  

Slowly, his hand slid down from your hip, trembling fingers finding your clit. He began to rub slow, tight circles — trying to help you get there, trying to distract himself from how badly he needed to let go.

Your breath caught, arching into his touch as your walls clenched around him.

"Ohhhh," you moaned. “So good… you’re such a good boy for me."

"Fuuuuuck,” he gasped. “Sweetheart… you can’t—can’t say that right now.” 

The praise was too much. The feeling was too much. Pure pain and pleasure coursing through his veins, utterly consuming. Tears completely blurred his vision, as your body squeezed him. He was fighting with everything he had to restrain himself, holding off for you.

His fingers quickened on your clit, desperate for you to let go. 

"Eddie," you purred, your hips rolling hard against his. “Fill me up, baby. I want every last drop." 

Dear God. 

That was it. 

A guttural groan tore from his throat as his body convulsed beneath you. His left hand dug into your hip — surely leaving a bruise — while his right kept moving, frantic but reverent as his cock pulsed deep inside you.

His orgasm hitting so fucking hard, dragging cries from his lips as he spilled into you. 

You rode every shuddering ripple, gasping into his mouth as your climax followed his.

Eddie couldn't move.

He was wrecked. Absolutely destroyed. Muscles twitching, trying to steady his breath.

You were to the right of him, one thigh slotted between his, your cheek resting against his chest. Your fingers traced lazy lines across his sternum. It toe the line of too much — every inch of him raw, tingling, burning — but he didn't tell you to stop. Couldn't. Wouldn’t.

He was still coming down, and your touch reminded him that you’d just ruined him in the best fucking way imaginable. 

He thought he knew what giving up control — in this situation — would feel like. He'd tried it before. Hated every second of it. Felt exposed, wrong. Tapped out before he even got hard.

So when it came to tonight, he figured maybe he'd tolerate it. I mean, it was with you, after all. If anything he’d get off on the novelty. Chalk it up to a one time thing.

But that?

He’ll fucking curse his own goddamn existence if he never gets to have that again. 

And it wasn't just the orgasms - though, holy hell, those alone had him completely fucking wrecked.

It was you.

"You're so pretty when you cry.”

The words have been playing on a loop in his head — the reverence behind them, the quiet awe in your eyes. No teasing, or taunting, you admired it. Sincerely. 

You'd said you weren't as cruel as him. And while he'd started to doubt that for a second — turns out, you were right.

He’s not sure you ever could be. 

Because Eddie likes to push when he's in control. Make someone beg. Draw it out. Break a sweat. While you did all of those things to him, it wasn’t in the same way.

Instead you met him, exactly where he needed. Graced him with your control, made him understand that sometimes control comes in the form of willingly relinquishing it to someone else.

You pull him from his thoughts, kissing a slow path up his collarbone. 

"Baby," you whisper, lips brushing the edge of his jaw, "you with me?”

"Yeah," he murmurs, voice rough.

You press a kiss to his jaw, then another to his cheek. "How'd it feel?" you ask, fingers brushing through his hair. "Being on the receiving end?”

"I liked it.”

“Yeah?"

He huffs a soft laugh, still catching his breath. “Yeah. More than I thought I would."

You smile into his skin, smug and satisfied, and fuck, if that doesn't do something to him all over again.

“So it wasn't too much for you?" you tease, brushing your nose along his temple.

"No," he says. "Actually, I uh...I wouldn't mind being at your mercy again.”

“Mmm. That’s right” You drag your lips along the edge of his jaw. "Because you're such a good boy.”

He groans - deep and ragged - and you steal it with a kiss.

When you pull back, your forehead rests against his. "I'd be at yours too, y'know," you say softly.

“Are you sure? I’m not as graceful as you.”

“Oh I’m counting on that," you admit. “Think I’m in for a real treat.” 

“Sweetheart, you have no fucking idea.” 

“And baby….”

“Hmm?” 

“I’m pretty when I cry too.” 

Fuck. 

"Groupie," he corrects. You smack him in the chest. You can feel him grin into your neck. He breathes in deeply.

"What is it?"

"Pheromones. You want me so bad, your brain's gone haywire."

"I believe it." He breathes in again, and exhales with a "fuuuuuuck."

"Can you stop sniffing me, please? People are starting to look at us weird."

"People always look at us weird," he argues. "We are weird."

"You're really pushing it right now, Munson."

"What is ittt?" he whines.

"The blood of a blonde virgin."

"Can you not be sarcastic for like four seconds?" He nips the side of your neck and digs his fingers into your hips, and you try to get away. He spins you and pulls you to him, your back to his front, putting him in the perfect position to sniff you again.

"Alright, alright, it's new lotion and body wash."

"After school, we're going to my house, scraping together every cent I've squirreled away, and going to buy more."

"Not likely," you laugh, trying to get him off of you. He refuses to detach.

"Yes likely," he argues. "You're going to put this stuff on and roll around in my bed every time I put clean sheets on."

"So what, like… once a year?"

He bites your shoulder.

"Ow, Edward! We talked about this! Cannibalism is a no for me!"

"Shouldn't smell so fucking good, then," he growls into your ear.

You wiggle, trying to escape his grasp, and feel something hard poking into your lower back. You freeze.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" you ask.

"This is all your fault."

"Yeah, I used this shit because I knew it'd make you go feral, not because I ran out of the other stuff." You try again to get out of his hold, but he grips you tight.

He licks a slobbery trail up your neck, and you squeal and squirm. He chuckles evilly and goes for the other side.

"You guys know you're in public, right?"

You both stop and look toward the curly-haired freshman staring at you. The more experienced members know better than to make eye contact when you're like this. This one's about to learn.

"What's your point, Henderson?" Eddie asks, voice full of venom.

"Uh… nothing? Nothing. Forget I said anything." Dustin quickly turns around and tries to rejoin the D&D discussion.

You lean back against Eddie and stretch, knowing he's feeling this with every inch. He moans quietly in your ear. You look at him and smirk.

"Wanna skip today?"

Robin knew. She always knew when your eyes lingered too long.

“Stop,” she’d hissed just yesterday, trumpet balanced on her knee as the rest of the band packed up around you. “He’s not… he’s not for you. Eddie’s a lot. Too much. And he’s got his own shit going on- Hellfire, his band, whatever the hell he's up to after school. You don’t want to get pulled into that. Trust me.”

There’d been something tight in her voice, something almost protective layered over something else you couldn’t quite name. But it didn’t matter. The second you caught sight of him in the hallway after practice- leaning against his locker, rings flashing as he gestured wildly at Gareth and Jeff about some new campaign idea- your stomach flipped and your fingers tightened around the handle of your clarinet case like it was the only thing keeping you grounded.

He never looked your way. Not once. You were background noise. The soft, precise sound of a clarinet in a sea of trumpets and drums. He was electric guitar feedback and screeching tires in the parking lot and the smell of cigarette smoke clinging to his jacket when he brushed past. You wondered what those long fingers would feel like if they ever actually touched you instead of guitar strings. Wondered if his voice would drop low and rough if he ever decided you were worth speaking to directly. The thought made heat crawl up your throat and settle somewhere deeper, heavier.

You were so tired of being invisible.

That night, alone in your room with your elbows propped against your desk and homework forgotten, the ache finally tipped into something sharper. You couldn’t keep doing this- watching him from across the cafeteria, heart hammering every time that wild laugh cut through the noise, pretending Robin’s warnings were enough to kill the pull. You needed a plan. Something that would force Eddie Munson to actually see you. Not the quiet band kid. Not the background extra in his loud, chaotic movie.

Something bold. Something stupid, maybe. Something that would drag you out of the safe, invisible corner you’d carved for yourself and straight into his orbit.

Your mind raced through possibilities while your fingers tapped restlessly against your thigh. Join Hellfire Club? God, the thought alone made your pulse jump- sitting at that table under the weight of his attention, having to roll dice while he watched you with those dark, intense eyes. Or maybe something riskier. Corner him after school by his van, music blasting, and just… say something. Anything. Or find a way to make him come to you.

You didn’t know yet how far you were willing to go. But then the decision sparked in your brain like a lit fuse.

No more watching. No more quiet, invisible longing from the back of the band room. If Eddie Munson was going to notice you, it had to be something he couldn’t ignore. Something loud. Something that matched the way he lived his entire life- big, dramatic, impossible to look away from.

So you were going to kiss him.

No words. No explanation. Just shove him back against his locker, fist in that stupid denim vest, and take what you’d been aching for since the first time you saw him. Then walk away like your heart wasn’t trying to claw its way out of your throat.

It was completely insane. You knew that. Robin would kill you if she found out. You might actually die of embarrassment if he pushed you off and laughed in your face. But the thought of his mouth on yours, even for a few reckless seconds, was louder than the fear.

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

You waited until the hallway was busy enough to give you cover but not so crowded that someone would physically stop you. Third period passing, right after the bell. Eddie was at his locker like always, rings glinting as he shoved books inside, curls falling into his face while he talked shit with Jeff about something you couldn’t hear over the blood rushing in your ears.

Robin had gone ahead to class. You’d told her you forgot something in the band room. She’d narrowed her eyes but let it go.

Your legs felt unsteady as you crossed the hallway. Every step made your pulse louder. By the time you reached him, your hands were shaking, but the decision had already been made. No backing out now.

Eddie turned at the last second, eyes widening just a fraction when he registered you coming straight at him. “Hey-”

You didn’t let him finish.

Both hands hit his chest harder than you intende. The metal of the locker door slammed against his back with a loud clang that turned a few heads. Your fingers curled into the worn collar of his shirt and vest, yanking him down as you surged up on your toes. And then your mouth was on his.

The world narrowed to the shock of it.

He tasted like cigarettes and the cherry candy he was always sucking on between classes. His lips were softer than you expected, but the second they registered what was happening, they parted on a startled sound that you swallowed whole. You kissed him like you were trying to crawl inside his skin- desperate, hungry, all the months of silent wanting poured into one reckless, bruising press of your mouth. Your body pressed in close, chest to chest, the hard line of his rings biting into your fingers where you gripped him.

For one suspended second, he froze.

Then Eddie Munson kissed you back.

One of his hands came up and grabbed your waist, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, yanking you tighter against him. The other slid into your hair at the nape of your neck, not gentle, not careful- just possessive, like he was anchoring you there. A low, rough noise rumbled out of his chest and into your mouth. He kissed like he did everything else. Intense, a little wild, all in. His tongue brushed yours and your knees nearly buckled. The hallway, the stares, the risk- none of it mattered. There was only the heat of his mouth, the way his body felt solid and warm under your hands, the dizzying realization that he was kissing you like he’d been waiting for it too.

You almost forgot the plan.

Almost.

With every ounce of willpower you had left, you tore your mouth away. Your lips felt swollen, tingling. Eddie’s eyes were dark, blown wide, lips parted and shiny from your kiss. He looked stunned. Wrecked. Like you’d just short-circuited something in that loud, brilliant brain of his.

You didn’t say a word.

You just let go of his collar, took one shaky step back, then another. Turned. And walked away on legs that didn’t feel entirely attached to your body.

Behind you, you heard the low, disbelieving laugh that was pure Eddie Munson- rough and delighted and a little dangerous.

“Holy shit,” he called after you, voice carrying down the hallway. “Hey- hey, wait- ”

You didn’t stop. Your heart was hammering so hard you could feel it in your teeth. Your mouth still tasted like him. Your hands were trembling. Someone definitely whistled. Someone else muttered “what the fuck just happened.” You kept walking, head high even though your face was burning, the taste of him still on your tongue and the ghost of his hand in your hair like a brand.

You made it around the corner before your back hit the wall and you slid down it, knees finally giving out. A shaky, hysterical little laugh escaped you.

You did it.

You actually fucking did it.

And Eddie Munson had kissed you back.

Now you just had to survive whatever came next.

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

By lunch, the entire school was buzzing like someone had set off a firecracker in the middle of the cafeteria.

You could feel it the second you stepped through the double doors. Heads turned. Whispers followed you like a trail of smoke. Someone actually pointed. You heard your name- or at least “that band girl”- mixed with Eddie’s in the same breath. The story had already mutated- you’d shoved him, kissed him like you were trying to devour him, and then walked away like a badass. Some versions had you straddling him. Others claimed he’d grabbed you and wouldn’t let go. None of them were entirely wrong.

Your usual table felt like a spotlight. You sat down with your tray anyway, trying to look normal while your heart did somersaults behind your ribs. Every time the cafeteria doors opened, your eyes snapped up, hoping for wild curls and a denim vest. Nothing. Eddie’s usual spot was empty. Hellfire was there- Gareth, Jeff, and a couple others- but their table was quieter than usual, and Eddie was nowhere in sight. The absence felt louder than if he’d been sitting there staring at you.

You poked at your food and tried to breathe.

Robin found you five minutes later.

She didn’t even sit. She just appeared at your side, grabbed your wrist, and hauled you up with a hissed, “Come with me. Now.”

You let her drag you out into the hallway and around the corner near the band room, where it was quieter. The second you were alone she spun on you, eyes wide and furious and confused.

“What the hell did you do?”

You shrugged, aiming for casual even though your pulse was still racing from the memory of Eddie’s mouth on yours. “I kissed him. That’s it. Shoved him against his locker and kissed him. No big deal.”

Robin stared at you like you’d grown a second head.

“No big deal?” She laughed, short and disbelieving. “You kissed Eddie Munson in front of half the school and then just walked away like it was nothing? People are saying you two were practically making out against the lockers. That he had his hands all over you. That you-” She stopped, ran a hand through her hair, and gave you a look that was half exasperation, half genuine concern. “It is a big deal. You don’t just do something like that to Eddie and expect it to disappear by sixth period. He’s… intense. And he doesn’t do halfway. You know that.”

You shrugged again, but it felt weaker this time. Your lips still tingled when you thought about it. The way he’d grabbed your waist. The rough little sound he’d made when you’d kissed him back. The way he’d called after you. You kept replaying it on a loop and it was getting harder to pretend it hadn’t shaken something loose inside you.

“I just wanted him to notice me,” you said quietly.

Robin’s expression softened for half a second before the worry took over again. “Oh, he noticed. Everyone noticed. The question is what he’s going to do about it.” She glanced down the empty hallway like she expected him to appear any second. “And where the hell even is he? He skipped lunch. That’s not like him.”

You didn’t have an answer. You’d been wondering the same thing since the rumors started. Was he pissed? Embarrassed? Plotting some dramatic revenge? Or was he somewhere thinking about the kiss the same way you were- replaying it, touching his mouth, wondering what the hell just happened?

Robin studied your face for a long moment, then sighed.

“Just… be careful, okay? Eddie doesn’t do casual. And neither do you, even if you’re pretending right now.” She squeezed your arm. “If he finds you later, don’t let him steamroll you. And find me if you need backup.”

She left you there in the hallway with your half-eaten lunch and the weight of a hundred rumors pressing in from every direction.

You leaned back against the cool cinderblock wall and closed your eyes.

The next day was the first official day of spring break, and Hawkins woke up to perfect weather- warm sun, a light breeze off the water, and not a single cloud in the sky. No school. No hallways full of whispers. No Robin giving you that worried, knowing look every five minutes.

Just you, your spot at Lover’s Lake, and the old wooden pier that had become your private sanctuary over the years.

You grabbed your usual supplies- a blanket, your frayed backpack with the good stuff inside, and a lighter- and headed out. The walk down to the water was quiet, the trees just starting to fill in with new green. When you reached the end of the pier, you kicked off your shoes, spread the blanket out on the sun warmed wood, and sat with your legs dangling over the edge. The lake stretched out in front of you, calm and sparkling.

You lit up, took a slow hit, and let the smoke curl out of your lungs as you leaned back on your hands. The weed hit smooth and easy, loosening the tight knot that had been sitting in your chest since yesterday. The kiss. The rumors. The way Eddie had kissed you back like he’d been starving for it. The way he’d grabbed your waist, fingers digging in, that low sound he made against your mouth. You’d replayed it so many times it felt branded into your skin.

You were halfway through your second hit when you noticed it.

Across the lake, parked crooked in the gravel driveway of one of the old houses that sat back in the trees, was a very familiar green and white van.

Eddie’s van.

Your stomach flipped hard.

You sat up straighter, squinting against the sunlight reflecting off the water. There was no mistaking it- the dents, the peeling paint on the side, the way it was angled like he’d pulled in too fast and didn’t care. The house itself looked quiet. No music blasting. No movement visible from this distance. But the van being there meant he was there.

You took another slow drag, the smoke curling warm in your chest as your mind raced.

Of all the places in Hawkins, he was across the lake from your spot. The one place you came when you needed to think. When you needed to get away from everything and everyone. And after what you’d done yesterday- after shoving him into that locker and kissing him like you had every right to- he was right there. Close enough that if you raised your voice, he might hear you on a quiet day like this.

Or maybe he already knew you were here.

The thought sent a fresh wave of heat through you, mixing with the weed and the memory of his mouth. Your lips still felt sensitive. Your waist still remembered the pressure of his hand. You wondered if he was thinking about it too, wherever he was over there. If he’d skipped lunch yesterday because he couldn’t face the rumors… or because he was planning something. You felt delusional with all of these theories.

You exhaled another lungful of smoke and stared at the van, heart beating a little faster.

You stayed where you were. There was no need to hide now that you've taken the initiative to start something that you have no idea how it'll end.

The pier was warm under the blanket, the sun soaking into your skin, and the lake was calm enough that the only sounds were the gentle lap of water against the posts and the occasional bird. You lit up again, took a long, slow hit, and let it settle in your lungs before exhaling toward the sky. The weed hit harder this time- or maybe it was just everything in life catching up to you. Either way, it made the world feel softer around the edges. Floaty. A little too warm in the best way.

You tried to play it casual. Laid back on the blanket with one arm behind your head, legs stretched out, pretending you were just here to relax like always. But inside, your thoughts kept drifting straight back to him and this new look on life you've adopted. There's no going back now. You won't let yourself be invisible any longer. You crave the adventure. The chaos. The taste of him. The heat of it.

The need was worse now that you were high. It sat low in your stomach, warm and insistent. You kept replaying the kiss on a loop, imagining what would have happened if you hadn’t walked away. If you’d let him keep kissing you. If those hands had wandered further.

You were halfway through another hit when movement across the lake caught your eye.

Eddie stepped out of the weathered house.

Even from this distance you recognized the way he moved- that loose, confident stride, curls bouncing, pins on his vest catching the sunlight. He paused on the porch for a second, stretching, then turned his head like he was scanning the lake. And then he saw you.

You could tell the exact moment he recognized you on the pier. His posture changed. He stood there for a beat, just looking, and even across the water you felt the weight of it.

Then he lifted one hand, pointed at you, and called out, voice carrying clear over the calm surface of the lake.

“Hey! You! Get your ass over here!”

The words hit you like a spark to dry tinder. Your stomach flipped hard. He was smiling- that sharp, crooked grin that always made your pulse jump-  but there was something else in it too. Something darker. Interested. Like he’d been waiting for this.

You sat up slowly, the weed making everything feel a little dreamlike as you watched him start walking toward his van. He didn’t wait to see if you’d follow. Just leaned against the trunk like he knew you would.

Your heart was beating too fast. The high made you feel bold and loose and a little reckless, the same way you’d felt right before you shoved him into that locker yesterday.

You stubbed out the joint, grabbed your stuff, and stood up on slightly unsteady legs and crossed the lake path, the weed humming warm and loose through your veins. Every step made the memory of yesterday’s kiss sharper. By the time you reached the van, Eddie was waiting with his arms crossed and a knowing smirk on his face.

He didn’t waste time.

“So,” he started, voice low and rough, “you gonna explain what the hell that was yesterday? Or are you just gonna keep showing up places like you didn’t shove me into a locker in front of half the school and kiss me like you were trying to ruin me for anyone else?”

You stopped a few feet away. The sun was warm on your back. The high made everything feel slow and electric at the same time- the way his rings caught the light, the way his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, the faint smell of weed and cigarettes and cologne that smelled so much like pine.

He kept going, stepping closer, voice dropping even lower.

“Rumors are everywhere. People saying you walked away like it was nothing. Like you didn’t just- ” He laughed once, short and disbelieving. “I skipped lunch because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop thinking about you. And then I come out here and there you are, sitting on that pier like you own the goddamn lake.” His eyes dragged over you, slow and deliberate. “So what’s the plan this time, huh? You gonna kiss me and run again? Or are you actually gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?”

You didn’t answer with words.

Instead you closed the distance in two steps, grabbed the front of his vest the same way you had yesterday, and shoved him back against the cool metal of the van. The trunk rattled. His eyes went wide for half a second- surprised, impressed?- before you were on him.

You kissed him hard.

This time there was no audience. No hallway. No reason to stop. Your confidence tripled under the taste of him, the way his mouth opened under yours instantly, the rough sound he made when your tongue slid against his. You pressed in close, one hand still fisted in his vest, the other sliding up into his hair and tugging. He kissed you back like he’d been holding back yesterday, all heat and hunger, teeth scraping your bottom lip before he sucked on it.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your mouth, voice already wrecked. One of his hands found your waist and yanked you in tighter while the other slid down to grab your ass, pulling you flush against him. You could feel how fast he was getting hard against your hip. “You’re really doing this again-”

You didn’t let him finish. You kissed him deeper, rougher, biting at his lip the way he’d just done to you. You were bold, every small touch made you want more, made every point of contact feel like it was burning straight through you. Your hands roamed- under his vest, over the thin shirt beneath, feeling the heat of his skin and the way his muscles jumped when your nails dragged lightly over his stomach.

Eddie groaned into your mouth and suddenly he was the one taking control.

He spun you both so your back was against the van instead, one thigh sliding between yours as he pinned you there. His mouth moved to your jaw, then down your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. One hand pushed under your shirt, palm hot against your stomach, fingers spreading wide like he wanted to touch as much of you as possible.

“You started this,” he breathed against your throat, voice low and rough. “Twice now. You keep kissing me like that and walking away and I swear to God-” He nipped at your collarbone, then soothed it with his tongue. “I’m not letting you run this time.”

His hand slid higher under your shirt, thumb brushing the underside of your breast as he kissed you again- messy, deep, a little desperate. The van was warm against your back from the sun. His rings were cool where they pressed into your skin. Everything felt heightened, floaty, and so fucking good you couldn’t think straight.

You could feel how badly he wanted this. How badly you wanted it too.

And neither of you were stopping.

“Van?” Was all that he was able to breathe out.

“Van.”

The back of the van was warm from the sun, the air thick with the lingering smell of weed, old leather, and whatever fast food bags Eddie had tossed in the corner. Blankets and a couple of pillows were already spread out from whatever he’d been doing here. You didn’t hesitate. You climbed in first, grabbed him by the vest, and pulled him after you. The door slammed shut behind him with a heavy thud that made everything feel suddenly very private.

The second you were both inside, it turned into a fight for control.

You shoved him down onto the blankets and climbed over him, straddling his hips as you kissed him hard. Your hands were everywhere- pushing his vest off his shoulders, yanking his shirt up, nails dragging down his chest. Eddie groaned into your mouth and tried to flip you, one strong hand gripping your thigh while the other slid under your shirt to palm your breast. He bit at your lip, trying to take the lead back.

“Nuh-uh,” you breathed against his mouth, grabbing both his wrists and pinning them above his head against the van floor. Your voice came out lower than usual, rough from the weed and the heat. “You were right. I started this. I’m in charge right now.”

Eddie’s eyes flashed dark, a surprised laugh punching out of him. “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” He bucked his hips up against you, hard and obvious through his jeans, trying to throw you off balance. “You think you can just-”

You cut him off by grinding down on him deliberately, slow and filthy, while you leaned in and bit the side of his neck hard enough to make him hiss. “I said stay still.”

Something in him shifted.

The fight drained out of his body in one long exhale. His wrists went lax under your hands instead of straining against them. His head dropped back against the pillow, curls spilling everywhere, chest heaving. Those dark eyes looked up at you like he was seeing you for the first time- really seeing you- and the sight of Eddie Munson submitting, giving in, letting you hold him down… it sent a rush of pure power straight through you. You loved it. The way his breathing changed. The way his hips twitched like he was fighting the urge to thrust up again. The way he was looking at you now, hungry and a little wrecked.

You kept kissing him, slower but no less intense, one hand still pinning his wrists while the other roamed- sliding down his stomach, popping the button on his jeans, slipping inside to wrap around him. He was already leaking, hot and hard in your fist. Eddie made a broken sound against your mouth.

“Fuck- why?” he asked, voice hoarse between kisses. His free hand came up to grip your hip, not to take over, just to hold on. “Why are you- Jesus, why now? Why like this?”

You didn’t stop touching him. You stroked him slow and tight while you answered, lips brushing his with every word.

“Because I’ve had a crush on you for fucking ever,” you said, voice steady even as your hand worked him. “Because I’ve been the invisible band geek in the back of the room with my clarinet while you walked around like you owned every hallway. Because Robin kept telling me to stay away and I couldn’t. Because I was tired of you never looking at me.”

You squeezed him on the last word and watched his eyes flutter.

“So I made a plan,” you continued, grinding down against his thigh while your thumb circled the head of his cock. “Something big. Something you couldn’t ignore. I kissed you yesterday so you’d finally see me. And now…” You leaned down, biting his bottom lip before sucking on it. “Now I’m not done. I want you like this. Under me. Letting me have you. Unless you want me to walk away again- you just have to say the word.”

Eddie’s breath hitched hard. His hips jerked up into your hand despite himself.

“Fuck,” he whispered, sounding almost dazed. “Okay. Yeah. Fuck, please don't leave.”

He stopped fighting completely.

His hands stayed where you put them. His body went pliant under yours in a way that made your head spin even more than the weed. He looked up at you with blown pupils and parted lips, completely at your mercy and apparently loving every second of it.

Your move.

You stayed right where you were- straddling his hips in the back of the van, one hand still wrapped around his cock, stroking him slow and tight while your other hand kept his wrists pinned above his head.

Eddie was already wrecked. His curls were messy against the pillow, chest rising and falling fast, lips swollen from your mouth. Every time you twisted your wrist on the upstroke he let out a low, desperate sound that went straight between your legs.

“Please,” he rasped after the third time you brought him right to the edge and stopped. His hips jerked up helplessly into your fist. “Fuck- please, don’t stop. I need-”

You squeezed the base of his cock hard enough to make him choke on the rest of the sentence.

“You need what?” you asked, voice low and taunting. You leaned down and dragged your tongue up the side of his neck, tasting salt and skin. “Use your words, Eddie.”

He groaned, long and broken. “I need to come. I need inside you. Please- fuck, I’ll do anything, just let me-”

You laughed softly against his throat and gave him one more slow stroke before letting go completely. His cock twitched hard against his stomach, flushed dark and leaking steadily. You sat back on his thighs and peeled your shirt off, then your bra, letting him look. His eyes went glassy.

“Hands on me,” you ordered. “But you don’t get to fuck me until I say. You touch my clit while I ride you. That’s it. You understand?”

Eddie nodded fast, almost frantic. “Yeah. Yeah, I understand. Just- please.”

You shoved your pants and underwear down and kicked them off, then reached between your legs and dragged two fingers through your own wetness, letting him watch. You were soaked. The teasing, the power, the way he was looking at you like you were something holy and filthy at the same time- it had you dripping.

You lined him up and sank down onto him in one slow, deliberate motion.

The stretch punched a moan out of both of you. He was thick and hot inside you, filling you perfectly. You didn’t move right away. You just sat there, clenching around him, watching his face as he fought not to thrust up.

“Fuck- you’re so tight,” he groaned. His hands came up immediately, one sliding between your bodies to find your clit like you’d told him to. Two of his rings were cool against your skin as he started rubbing tight, perfect circles. “You feel so fucking good. Please move. Please ride me. I’ll be good, I swear-”

You started to move.

Slow at first. Rolling your hips in deep, grinding circles that dragged the head of his cock against that spot inside you every time. His fingers worked your clit in messy, desperate strokes, trying to match your rhythm. The van was already starting to rock slightly with every movement.

You picked up the pace.

Soon you were riding him hard- bouncing on his cock, the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the small space. Every time you dropped down you took him to the hilt. Eddie was babbling now, voice wrecked.

“Please- fuck, please don’t stop- I’m so close, I’m gonna- please let me come inside you, I need it, I need you-”

You leaned forward, one hand braced on his chest, the other fisting in his hair and yanking his head back so you could bite at his throat.

“Not yet,” you panted against his skin. “You don’t come until I do. You wanted me to finish what I started? This is what you get. You take what I give you.”

You rode him faster, chasing your own pleasure while his fingers rubbed your clit in frantic little circles. The combination- his cock stretching you open, his rings pressing against you, the desperate sounds he was making- had you right on the edge in minutes.

When you finally came it hit hard. Your whole body locked up as you clenched around him, a broken moan tearing out of your throat. You kept riding through it, grinding down and using him while the aftershocks rolled through you.

Eddie was shaking underneath you.

“Please,” he begged, voice cracking. “Please, I can’t- I’m gonna-”

You leaned down and kissed him messy and deep, still clenching around him.

“Come,” you ordered against his mouth. “Fill me up.”

He broke with a choked cry, hips snapping up hard as he came deep inside you. You felt every pulse of it- hot and thick, spilling into you while he shook and gasped your name like a prayer.

You stayed on him until the aftershocks faded, both of you panting, sweaty, and trembling. His hands had slid up to grip your hips, holding on like he needed the anchor. You were still in control, still on top, and the look in his eyes when he finally opened them said he had no interest in changing that anytime soon.

Eddie let out a shaky, wrecked little laugh.

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You smirked, still full of him, and rolled your hips once more just to watch him twitch.

“Good.”

You stayed on top of him while he softened inside you, both of you breathing hard, skin slick with sweat. Then you carefully lifted off and collapsed beside him in the tangle of blankets. The van smelled like sex and weed. Outside, the lake was quiet.

Eddie didn’t let you get far. He immediately pulled you back against his chest, one arm sliding under your head while the other wrapped around your waist like he needed the contact. His curls were a mess against the pillow. He looked completely fucked-out and soft in a way you’d never seen before.

Without a word, he reached over with his free hand, grabbed the half-smoked joint from earlier, and lit it. He took a slow hit, then passed it to you. You took it, the two of you passing it back and forth in comfortable silence for a minute while your heart rates settled.

Eventually he spoke, voice rough and a little shy.

“I’ve noticed you before, you know.”

You turned your head to look at him, surprised. “What?”

Eddie gave a small, self-conscious laugh and rubbed the back of his neck with the hand that wasn’t holding you. “Yeah. In the band room. During pep rallies. You’re always in the back with your clarinet, all focused and serious. I’ve seen you. I just… never said anything.”

You blinked at him. Eddie Munson- loud, dramatic, zero-fucks-given Eddie- was admitting he’d been too shy to talk to you? It didn’t compute.

“You?” you said, half-laughing. “Shy? You? The guy who stands on lunch tables and monologues about D&D and flips off the principal?”

He grinned, a little embarrassed, and ducked his head to hide it against your shoulder. “I know. It’s stupid. But every time I thought about walking up to you I’d get this… I don’t know. Stage fright or something. You always looked like you had your shit together and I was just the freak with the van and the vest.”

You were still processing that when he continued, voice dropping quieter.

“And then yesterday you just… shoved me into a locker and kissed me like that. And today you climbed in here and took control like you owned me.” He let out a breathy laugh, still sounding a little stunned. “You surprised the hell out of me. In the best way. I didn’t think you had that in you.”

You couldn’t help it- you laughed too, the sound soft and a little disbelieving in the small space of the van.

“I didn’t think I had it in me either,” you admitted. “I was just tired of being invisible. Tired of the world telling me what I could and couldn't do. Tired of wanting you and doing nothing about it.”

Eddie lifted his head to look at you properly. His eyes were warm, still a little hazy from the weed and the orgasm. A slow, crooked smile spread across his face.

“Well,” he said, thumb stroking lazy circles on your hip, “mission accomplished. I’m definitely not ignoring you anymore.”

You both laughed again- quiet, fond, a little giddy. The tension from earlier had melted into something easier. He pulled you closer, tucking your head under his chin, and passed you the joint again.

For a while you just laid there together, smoking, skin against skin, the van gently rocking with the breeze off the lake. 

Just the two of you.

⛧°. ⋆༺☾𖤓༻⋆. °⛧

You spent almost the entire spring break together.

It started with that afternoon in the back of his van and just… kept going. Eddie brought you inside Rick’s house and you ended up staying the night. Then the next day. Then the next. You smoked on the pier, made out in his van, fucked in the lake at night when no one else was around, and spent lazy mornings tangled up in blankets while he played guitar for you. He showed you his favorite D&D campaigns. You played clarinet for him once, soft and a little shy, and he watched you like you were magic.

By the last night of break you were both a little sunburned, a little sore, and completely addicted to each other.

You were lying on his chest in the back of the van again, the windows cracked to let the cool night air in, when you finally asked.

“So… what are we now?”

Eddie was quiet for a second. Then he let out a dramatic, put-upon sigh and cracked a grin you could feel against your hair.

“Well, I was thinking ‘official van sex partners’ has a nice ring to it. Very professional. We could get business cards.”

You snorted and smacked his chest lightly. He laughed- that loud, bright Eddie laugh- and then his voice softened.

“I’m kidding. I’m all in, if you want me. I’ve been all in since you shoved me into that locker, honestly. So…” He tilted your chin up so you were looking at him. “Will you be my girlfriend? Officially? No more hiding it, big middle finger up to the rumors. Just… us.”

You smiled so wide it hurt.

“Yeah,” you said. “I want that.”

Eddie kissed you like he’d been waiting his whole life to hear it.

Monday morning you showed up to school holding hands.

Eddie’s rings were warm against your fingers. He was wearing his usual battle vest and that stupid grin that said he knew exactly what kind of chaos you were about to cause. You were wearing one of his shirts under your jacket and still smelled like his cologne and weed and last night’s sex. Neither of you cared.

The second you walked through the front doors, the whispers started again- louder than before. People stared. Someone actually gasped. You heard your name and Eddie’s mixed together in the same breath more than once. A couple of the Hellfire guys whooped when they saw you. Someone from the band shot you a wide eyed look like you’d grown a second head.

You didn’t let go of his hand.

Robin found you at your locker before first period. She took one look at your joined hands, then at the matching hickeys you were both definitely trying not to hide, and just sighed.

“I told you he was trouble,” she muttered, but there was a small, reluctant smile tugging at her mouth. “You two are disgusting. I’m happy for you. Don’t make me regret saying that.”

Eddie slung an arm around your shoulders and pressed a loud, dramatic kiss to your temple.

“Too late, Buckley. She’s stuck with me now.”

You leaned into him, smiling so hard your cheeks hurt, and flipped off the next person who stared a little too long.

Let them talk.

You finally had exactly what you wanted.

SUMMER OF '85

Your calves strained, toes overextended, arms reaching far beyond their ability for the last bag of brown sugar tucked so far back on shelf you figured you'd have better luck yanking the whole thing forward to knock it off. You glanced down, planted one food on the bottom shelf and climbed up fingers just grazing the plastic corner of it.

"Come on." Your tongue sat on the corner of your mouth, teeth chewing on it in concentration. Then it's slipping off of sweaty fingers, and you stumble backwards into the aisle. You groaned looking up and down the empty aisle before stalking off towards the other end in search of an employee. You cross over three empty aisles before you see someone you recognize enough to ask for help. "Eddie...Munson?"

He turned slowly, confused his name was coming from your mouth. He has always been a few grades above you, lately you had been creeping your way into his grade every year he failed. You didn't know him well, but enough to borrow his height. "Yes?" He always tried to come off intimidating, you had seen his menacing, degrading gaze to most people. For some reason, every time you had met his eyes, they had seemed soft, inviting. Even now, his brown eyes melted like molding chocolate taking you in.

"Do you have a second? I can't seem to reach something." You say pointing a few aisles over. He eyes you up and down before setting the box of cereal down and motioning for you to lead him. "Thanks." You sigh relieved walking him over the three aisles and down to the empty shelf besides that singular bag of brown sugar tucked away in back. "It's the brown sugar back there."

Theres no over stretching, or climbing just a side reach of his arm and the troublesome bag comes sliding forward. He grabs it with one hand, but holds it in his palm staring down at you. "Whatcha making?"

"A cake." You say hand going for the bag, but he moved it slightly out of reach. He raises a brow, "My little brother is coming home from summer camp."

"How fun." He lets your fingers wrap around it and tug it into your arms. "What kind?"

The tip of your shoe kisses the front of his own, neither of you shuffle them away from each other. "German chocolate."

"Sweet." He nods the corner of his lips tugging up. "Do I know him? Your brother?"

You shake your head, "No he'll be a freshman this year." You can't remember if Eddie graduated or not this past spring and you're unsure how to ask because you suddenly remember his club, the club for a game you're pretty sure your brother plays. "Hey, do you still have that club, for that game?"

His smile grows. "Hellfire yeah." He leans against the shelf, "Unfortunately I will be president of it once more." Oh, so he did fail again.

"Actually," Your eyes brightened. "Dustin might really be into that. He's been playing that with all his friends for years."

Eddie raised an eyebrow, "And you're sure you want him associated with someone like me?" A solid point, you knew what they said about Eddie Munson, that he was a freak, a weirdo. You were well acquainted with most outcast, you fit in enough but mostly kept to yourself to focus on your studies.

"Dustin and I try to focus on facts more than rumors." You pointed an accusing finger, "But if I get a whiff of drugs from his mouth I will find a way to poison you."

He kicks the heel of his foot against the linoleum the corners of his mouth curled up. "I shall consider it." HE waved around his head, "Do you need anymore...help with..." His eyes roam down your figure again catching on the bottom of the bag dangling below your ribcage. "Anything."

"No. I don't think so." You hug the bag of brown sugar to your chest. "Thanks again." He meets your eyes, a warm cup of freshly brewed espresso looking back at you, "See you around Eddie."

"Yeah." He glances again at the tan sugar clutched between fingers. "See ya sweet girl."

FALL OF '85

You push the double paned door open with a shoulder and took in the sight of an empty office beside two people sitting at a rounded wooden table. You take slow, hesitant steps as they seemed engrossed in a conversation over what seemed to be a schedule. You tried not to listen, but you three were the only ones in the office.

"You have enough credits in physical education, so you don't need to retake that. You will need to average at least a C+ in your math and science courses to get those credits. We're still behind in English." Mrs. Kelley points to the paper.

It's Eddie Munson sitting beside her with an annoyed hand in his hair. "Do I need to take math?"

She laughs, "Yes." He groaned placing his head on the table. "Doesn't that game of yours involve math?"

"That's different." He mumbled you bite down on the smile forming. "It's actually fun."

Ms. Kelley sighs, "This is your last chance Mr. Munson." You suddenly feel like you're intruding on something, so you clear your throat. Ms. Kelley turns to take you in. "Ms. Henderson. You're here early." She glances at Eddie, "Have you two met before?"

Eddie picks his head up to glance at you with soft recognition. "Sweet girl, how was the cake?"

"Good." You smile making your way over to the empty chair next to Ms. Kelley. "My brother enjoyed it very much."

"Dustin." He points out and you nodded.

Ms. Kelley grins, "Good I'm glad you two are well acquainted. She folded her hands, "Eddie I've taken the liberty of requesting Ms. Henderson be on standby for any academic needs you may have throughout the year. Think of her as a tutor if you should require any help."

Instead of looking embarrassed, ashamed he seems pleased it was you. "What do I get out of it?"

"A diploma." You chuckle. "If it motivates you, I will bring treats every session."

Eddie holds out his hand, "The deal is the deal." You beam as you shake his warm hand, cool rings a relief against hot skin. Neither of you pull away, unable to break away from the contact, eyes caught on your own reflection in his swirling brown eyes.

"Okay." Ms. Kelley claps her hands as you snatch back your own finally. "We'll meet every two weeks Mr. Munson to make sure you're on track." She gathers her papers and stands up leaving the two of you alone at the table.

He leans across the table, closer to you, "Wish you had let me try some of your goods that day." You glance at his fingers, his mouth, his eyes feeling your teeth tug your lip between them. The cake, he's talking about-! "Is your brother here?"

You shake your head, "His orientation is tomorrow."

He nods along to your words. "I'll find him once school starts."

"Don't tell him I put in a word about it." You grimace. "Make it seem natural, like you sought him out on your own."

He puts a hand to his chest, "Your secret is safe with me sweet girl. If he's anything like you, I'm sure I'll like him."

You smile down at the table.

Every Tuesday after school you met with Eddie in the library going over his homework with him, helping him studying for any upcoming exams. He was riding a high D throughout the first quarter of school, but by midterms he had quickly pushed up to a C. You kept true to your word always baking something new to bring with you as motivation for focusing on his academic work.

Once the food was done, well it was hard to keep him on track after that as he would divulge into conversation with you, picking apart your life to get to know you better. "AP Chem and AP English? How do you have time for anything?"

"Lots of late nights." You chuckle closing the textbook realizing he was done applying himself for the day.

He leans against his fist on the table studying you better than he ever studied your notes. "Shouldn't you fill you nights with something more...fun?"

"Like what?" You raise a brow fighting the pre-heating warmth in your stomach. Eddie liked to flirt, liked to flirt with you too much to not enjoy it. You figured it was just a way to distract you off of making him do work, and unfortunately you always had a tendency to gorge yourself with it.

His other hand lands near you own arm, fingers drawing circles into your skin. "Whatever young ladies do in the dark of the night." You know exactly what he is talking about finding that you were doing it too much lately when you tossed and turned replaying every feather-light touch he seemed to hand over to you.

You pull your arm back. "How is my brother?"

He sighs, discontent at the sudden shift away from him. "Oh, my little bard. He's good, really all in on Hellfire. He doesn't talk of you much." Well, why would he, you figured you weren't nearly relevant to any conversation beyond the fact you were giving him a ride. "Every time I ask about you, if you're picking him up, he changes the subject." Eddie gives a menacing wag of his finger. "Lies to me about it."

"Well, you're easily distracted so I could get why he wants to keep you focused on the game." You begin to gather your books.

His hand stills your wrist. "You're awfully distracting sweet girl."

The weeks move mundanely, a passing of time to get from one point to the next, the only joy you find is brown eyes meeting yours out in crowded space. You'd see him at the other end of the hall, and you'd slowly gather your things trudging along the white tiled floor towards your class. Then he'd finally push off the wall walking the opposite direction of you.

He'd walk past you, knuckle grazing the back of your own and you would both continue on a winded path. And that would be it, you wouldn't see him until he waited at your usual table with shared hungry eyes. You weren't sure if it was for what was tucked safely in a Tupperware bowl, or you.

Then suddenly it's a wintery Friday, and you're baking in your kitchen. "There you go Tews." You pet the cat behind his ears as his head dips to lick at his food before you stand up to wash your hands. You glance at the oven still having four minutes left. Then you're left staring out of the kitchen window with nothing else to do but wait.

"Sweetie." Your mother calls from the living room. "Do you mind picking up Dustin from his club?"

You try to sound uninterested, "Hmm?"

"Dustin. He's at his club." She reiterates for you.

"He's still there?" You look at the stove again now saying three minutes, then quickly to the clock on the wall. "It's so late."

She sighs, "Yeah it goes until 7:30. You can head there now I can take your banana bread out."

"It's almost done anyways." You run upstairs quickly shucking off your pajama pants to put on a pair of jeans then throwing a jacket over your shoulders. You bound down the stairs, sifting through the key dish to find the car keys. By the time you make it back to the kitchen the timer is beeping in tune with your heart, and the smile grows on your face as you pull out the loaf tin. You set it in the stove to cool down and sadly leave it there. "Wrap it once it cools please." You kiss the top of your mother's head.

"Drive safe please!"

Ever since Will Byers had gone missing your brother was never allowed to bike anywhere anymore, unless you accompanied him, even though Will had come back. You knew your mother had become overbearing, but it had come from a good place, and anyways you liked an excuse to drive around and listen to music. You also liked having more excuses to see Dustin's club president.

You pull into a mostly empty parking lot searching around for your little brother when eventually you got too impatient to sit there. You check yourself in the little mirror before turning the car off and making your way towards the building searching for your brother. "Dustin?" You called mostly hearing your own feet against linoleum. You take a right, voices finally cutting through the silence, a loud babble of laughter. You follow it, "Dustin?" You push the door open warm light welcoming you into the drama room.

Your little brother calls your name. "What are you doing here?"

"Mom asked me to come get you." You walk further into the room, taking in the large table, Mike and Lucas, other classmates, and... Eddie who watches you with famished eyes. "She said you were done at 7:30."

Dustin sighs, agitated. "I told her so many times before on Fridays it goes until 8:00."

You shuffled your feet unsure what you're supposed to do. Eddie's chair scrapes the floor as he begins to move towards you. "I can drive him home if you don't want to wait around."

You glance between Dustin and Eddie. "Can't you just leave early?"

Eddie gasped a hand falling on your shoulder with a squeeze, "This is Hellfire baby, you can't just leave early."

You're blushing furiously and fumbling over thoughts that all you can say is, "But I was making banana bread." You peer up at him whispering out, "For you." Ms. Kelley had told you he had gotten a B- on his latest English test.

"You two know each other?"

"Hey, speaking of that," Mike interjects. "My dad keeps begging me to ask you to make those blueberry lemon muffins again." You look at Mike, for some reason the request grounds you, and you nod. "He likes them with his coffee."

Eddie gives Dustin a light glare, "Your wonderful sister is going to be the reason I graduate this year Henderson." He looks back at you, "And why my jeans are getting tighter." Dustin makes a disgusted sound to which Eddie shouts at him. "Not that way! Get your head out of the gutter."

Dustin puts his head in his hands. "Just head home, Eddie said he'll drive me home." He doesn't say it meanly, just giving you an out instead of waiting in the car for him.

"Mom will kill me if I walk back in the house without you." You have him there and so he's grumbling as he stands up packing up his belongings following you to the door.

"You owe me Henderson." Both you and your brother turned back to Eddie. He points at you, "You." He smirks, "I might just have to collect a favor from you for stealing away my Bard."

Your cheeks burn, but it's Dustin who's shoving you through the door. "Stop flirting with my sister."

"Oi! I can do whatever I want!" Eddie cackles after you as Dustin continues to usher you out.

The following Monday at school you come baring an apology/celebration gift. You probably didn't need to do it, but Dustin wore you down all weekend that you should feel bad about dragging him away from the "awesome" campaign Eddie had created. You usually only bring small portions, but it was an act of goodwill. You have the wrapped dish tucked under your arm as you make your way down the hall to catch him before he went into lunch.

"Eddie." You say loud enough to make him stop walking, to turn and look at you.

"Sweet girl." He coos eyeing you up and down.

Your lips part and close as your face burns. "I uh was going to give this to you later, but I don't want to carry it around all day." You pull the tin from its spot in your arms holding it out for him. "Dustin said you worked hard on the campaign thing and I-I felt bad. Also, I heard about your English grade. You've been working really hard on that too, so you get the whole loaf.

"Oh." He peers at the platter you've handed him. He peels back the cover. Then looks back at you, "You don't need an olive branch with me sweet girl." He points at you, "Just don't do it again; there's only so much forgiveness pretty can buy you."

You tuck hair behind your ear and point down the hallway, "Well uh got to run, but I'll make sure to be a good girl next time." His head reels back in shock and you're swerving around him. You slap yourself as you walk off down the hall because what the fuck just came out of your mouth.

It's hard to focus the rest of school as you run over your words every other minute dissecting every embarrassing moment it leaves your mouth. You should have swallowed it all down, never brought it up. He got to you in a way you didn't understand, it ignites some pooling desire you had never felt for anyone before. You had always thought he was cute, in a mysterious, intimidating way you would never reach. Then he failed multiple years in a row, you saw him more, you tutored him, you let him devour you with milk chocolate eyes, and you realized he wasn't all that dark and foreboding. He was sweet, tad irresponsible, but kind, funny, and it turned you into a tenderhearted fool.

You basically let your head droop into your locker hoping it would swallow you whole as you released a hopeless sigh too embarrassed to ever pick up Dustin again from his club.

A hand slides across your lower back every vertebra stiffening at the touch barely pulling your head out of the locker before his words pour out, "You know I thought all those little sweets you bring me were good, but this truly takes the cake."

You peer sideways at the voice, at Eddie, face so near yours that the sharp breath you exhale blows strands of his hair away from his face. "W-What?"

Brown eyes study you. "I thoroughly adore your skills." Eddie's fingers come up twirling your hair between his own, letting strands entwine around his rings.

"You like it?" You breathe. The bread, the...bread.

"I must have more."

Your eyes widen, "More you-you..."

He shook his head letting your hair fall back around your face. "I overindulged my friends and am terribly distraught it is all gone."

"I can make you some other version of it." His eyes drink you in, like hot chocolate on a snowy day, and you wonder if this was what it means to drown in someone's gaze.

His hand slides off of your back, the empty touch leaving you frigid. "Hmm anything I want you say?"

You nodded, "Yeah just-uh let me know or-or Dustin."

"Okay sweet girl." He pinches your chin between his thumb and finger tilting your face up to him. He breaths out his nose, eyes roaming your face, "Then I'm calling in my favor."

Your cheeks are aflame as you feel yourself melting within his grip; your brows crease in surrender, at the mercy of any of his attention. "What did you want?"

He smirks, "What are you offering?"

Before you can respond with a question of clarity, you hear your name. "This is why I tell Mom to not let you pick me up." Dustin is shooing Eddie's hands away from your face.

"Now, now I happen to think that is rather cruel of you Henderson." Eddie is quick to tug you by the wrist and wrap an arm around your shoulder to hoard you close to him. "You've been awfully selfish."

Dustin's eyes flicker between you and him, to the arm possessively curling around you. "I had good reason." You suppose so; if he hurt you, Dustin loses Eddie. If Eddie hurts you, Dustin loses Eddie. It was a lose, lose situation in your little brother's eyes.

You wrangle away from Eddie. "I was just...celebrating hard work." You tell Dustin. "Eddie just was asking for something else."

Dustin has the audacity to glare at Eddie, "You didn't like it?"

You laugh tugging your brother's face back towards you, "Quite the opposite. I owe him a favor, so he's calling it in. No more bad blood for my poor time management."

"Henderson." Both you and your brother looked, "Not you sweet girl." Dustin scoffed, "You're hosting Hellfire at your house on Friday. That is the favor I ask for."

"What?"

Eddie only gave Dustin a light shove, "Don't make you sister drive that late at night." Then he brushed past you, down the hall, and out of view.

"Mom won't be happy." Dustin reminded you.

You winced. "Power struggle of the century."

Sweat beads at your hairline as you mix the dough, heat from the oven boiling the small kitchen you were working in. You eye the timer, went back to your mixing, and wondered if Eddie would like the taste of your sweat inside these cookies you were making.

Your cheeks burned at the ghost of his touch along your back, the way his fingers fit your chin between them. You rolled your neck trying to fight the yearning for more from boiling you in this stifling room. Cool air hits you suddenly breaking the memory, or the fantasy and your eyes blink up to find your mother pushing the small curtains aside, "You're going to set the house on fire."

"I'm almost done." You set aside the mixing bowl and try to swipe stray flour into the sink.

"Dustin will be happy you've done this for his friends." An absentminded comment.

"This is-yeah yeah, he said the games ran long." The timer begins to go off on the stove the same time the door flies open. Your heart rate speeds up, and surly it's the excessive heat making you dizzy as you tug the tray from the oven. You keep moving to prevent your mind from getting away from you. You find a focal point on the little chocolate pieces you begin to measure out as familiar voices flood in from behind you.

It's the loud noise of teenage boys clambering around before descending into the basement with thumping footfalls. It recedes, silences embracing you once more, until you register your mother again. "Thank you, it's good to finally have you over. Dustin never stops talking about you."

"I'm sure all good things?" You're chewing on your lip as Eddie's voice floats in the air.

"He really looks up to you." Your mother oblivious to all the darker rumors you heard about him; triple senior, drug dealer, everything that should have made you look the other way.

You were just as starry-eyes as your brother. "Well I am taller." Your mother laughs so loudly it drowns out the sound of him walking into the kitchen, towards you. "Sweet girl." He says and half the cup of morsels go flying across the counter. "Jeez is the heat getting to you."

"No! No..." Probably, but most likely him. "You just...startled me." You grab a napkin and sweep the spilled pieces onto it to toss in the trash before going to your empty measuring cup. "Shoot."

He's beside you and it's hard to tell if the oven is burning your shoulder or him. "What's up?"

You eye the bowl of dough, of half the required amount of chocolate chips, then his face. "I...I..." You can't think straight, as he stares down at you, as he consumes your features with eyes the same color as the chocolate chips you had dropped. "My measurements might be wrong."

He shrugs, "Just eyeball it."

"Well no," You correct him. "It's a strict recipe."

He smirks reaching beyond you, cheeks brushing, as he grabbed the bag of chocolate chips. "I'm sure it will be just fine." Then he proceeds to pour freely from the bag until he's content as you watch in horror knowing it would throw off the consistency, the baking time, the ratio you had perfected. He takes the spoon, mixing them all in until you're sure the dough is more chocolate than cookie. Then to even further horror, he takes two fingers through the dough letting it gather and plopping them into his mouth. "Mhm," He moans, closed eyes toying with your ruined masterpiece. "See? Still so good."

"I guess we'll just have to see how they bake." You clear your throat.

"Well you could try it now, make sure it's up to your...liking." He suggest but before you could stammer out some sort of response he's guiding two fingers through the dough again, using his other hands to cup your jaw. Yes, it's the heat from the oven making you loopy, making your face burn as your lips part giving him enough opening to shove his fingers into your mouth. You stare up at him, he stares down at you as the pads of his fingers lay politely on your tongue. "Come on, taste my hard work, be a good girl hmm?"

Your tongue rolls back between the spread of his fingers letting unbaked dough melt along your warm mouth. You flatten it to swallow realizing it taste find, albeit a tad to chocolaty, but you found you didn't care anymore what the fucking cookies tasted like. Your tongue swirls around his fingers, teeth grazing his knuckles tasting nicotine he held between fingers, lead from pencils, the little morsels of chocolate held back by your eagerness to swallow him down. You feel every groove of his skin, the cuts along his phalanges, calluses along the pads of his fingertips.

"You like that?" He breaths down at you, fingers stretching your mouth, gliding along the outsides of your teeth. You hum a response that could have only been dredged up from some deep pleasurable part of your body. You lay a hand on his wrist and suck his fingers in deeper. It's some instinctive need to glide your mouth along his two fingers until the tip of your nose brushes the outer metal of his ring, swirling your tongue back around until his nails dig into the back of your throat. You need to stop; something is going to burn but you can't help drinking down his skin like the water you desperately had needed all night.

Spit is pooling out of your mouth, down your chin, onto his other hand gripping your face too firmly. His body presses into yours, slotting a knee between his own as something harsh digs into you. "I bet you taste even better." You blink up at him watching you with eyes that now looked too dark to be brown. Need pools, the air too thick with the desire coursing through you, the orange glow of the oven engulfing you in a broiled flame. You wanted him, well of course you always had, but an ache had formed only he could fill, and now he sat right on your tongue willing to take you against your kitchen counter if you asked.

"Eddie!" Your brother's voice shouts from downstairs. "Leave my sister alone!"

He doesn't shoot away, you don't push; his fingers simply retreat from your mouth. Spit follows in its wake as he lets them drag over your lip, your chin, jaw staring down at the glistening sight in the kitchen light. "You should go down there." You voice is barely a whisper; words jumbled in a horny haze. "Campaign and all."

Eddie chuckles taking his own fingers back into his mouth to taste your saliva, the sight alone makes wetness pool between your legs. "We both know why I arranged the game here tonight." He slides a wet thumb across your cheek bone then over your lips one last time and you taste the hint of flour that had messily coated your exposed skin, "I'm coming in you soon sweet girl."

He saunters away, down the stairs and your rush to the sink to splash cold water over your neck. Whether it a threat or promise you didn't know how long you could handle the pressure building within you until Eddie Munson made true to his word.

An hour-and-half later you're sitting at your kitchen table with a cup of cool water and strands of sweaty hair sticking to your face trays upon trays of cookies sitting perfectly wrapped for the taking. You should go shower, lay down, your task was complete, and yet you waited for someone to come upstairs to bother you.

It was your mother instead, "Why don't you go take some down there for them?" She asked sneaking one out from beneath the opaque wrapping. You glared at her, "I can't help it my daughter is just so talented."

"Okay I guess." Like you would ever pass up the opportunity to go down there despite the smell of teenage boys.

"Tell Dusty maybe another hour." You glanced at the clock.

You chuckled, "Not sure how well that will go over. You're cutting them off thirty minutes early."

"Well it's getting late and I don't want Mrs. Wheeler to worry and the other-!"

"I'll let them know Mom." You waved her off standing to your feet to grab a tray of assorted treats before padding over plush carpet to the stairs. The noise hits you all at once when you're five steps down; they're so loud, so unruly, so boisterously enthralled in their game. It all comes to a screeching halt as your feet hit the basement floor as your brother groans at the sentence you had cut off from Eddie. "I've finished."

The corner of Eddie's mouth ticks up, "Have you?"

Your cheeks tinge with pink as you chew your bottom lip motioning to the tray in your hand. "Figured you all can get the fresh batch." You set it down on the table careful to knock any game pieces off before stepping around towards your brother, towards Eddie who sat so near him. "Mom said one more hour." You whispered.

A hand landed on your back, "You cutting me off again sweet girl?" You ignore him, ignore the flame edging up your spine as his thumb slips beneath the hem of your shirt to land on bare skin.

"Think we could push it?" Dustin suggested.

You weighed it unable to map it out with Eddie's full hand now beneath your shirt laying against your back. "She had four of the crème brûlée cookies so her blood sugar will probably crash and she'll lay down soon. She'll head back out for some water though so it could buy you an extra fifteen minutes."

Dustin taps his fingers, strategizing, Claudia another boss to defeat in his game. "Could you distract her?"

"She'll peek her head in your bedroom." You remind him.

Dustin swears. "I'll take the fifteen minutes."

You both turn to Eddie who's too distracted at his own touch on your skin. "Hmm? Sounds good."

You shake away from him back towards the stairs. "Do try to listen Dusty, I can give you her warning, but I can't protect you from her wrath." Your eyes meet Eddie's and you wonder if you stayed longer in his touch if he'd end the game right there for you.

You hurry up the stairs, up to your room to close and lock the door. It was up to him what they did next, your job was done. In the quiet of your room, your skin branded with the touch he had left behind, the lingering push into your skin that no amount of cool air could stifle. You took three deep breaths before yanking your door open and charging into the bathroom.

You take one glance in the mirror and wonder if it was obvious how hot and bothered you had grown, wide pupils, cherry red cheeks, parted lips wanting to run a tongue down his skin. Your mother would kill you; your brother would kill you if he knew the sick thoughts you were having about that man in your basement. You turn the shower on and jump in too quickly cold water steaming against your blazed skin. It takes your breath away, your thoughts, as your body shook with a shiver. The water warms as you stand there, letting it pelt you into submission as you fall into motion with a normal shower.

You're lathered and washed when you finally dig into your fingernails for stray dough as any residue it scraped away. His fingers in your mouth. Your hand shoots out to steady yourself against the shower wall the memory so vivid, so stark that your mouth opens letting droplets hit your wide jaw. It's insatiable, for every cuticle he'd give you, you'd gnaw at it, no better than a dog in heat. You knew it would happen; you figured a cold shower would help, but knees are bending, sliding you down until your sitting against the bath floor hand slithering between your legs.

The minute your fingers lightly touch your throbbing clit, you bite down on your knuckle to suppress the moan that chews your throat instantaneously. It's crude, it's all primal as you rub into that needy bundle of nerves feeling your body warm to a degree your oven would never reach. You angle your elbow to try and push fingers inside of yourself as your cunt pulsates with need, an urge to be filled. You only whine unable to reach the deeper parts of yourself while working your clit. You glance up at your shower head cursing at its stagnant head, your eyes dart around the shower looking for something, anything to shove inside of yourself. Shampoo bottles, soap bars, your mother's loofa, then you're just cringing at your desperateness.

You could do this, you needed to do this, or else you'd be salivating after him until you did something stupid like sucked his fingers in a scalding kitchen like it was some perverted candy. You groaned pressing in harder on your clit. You had made yourself cum like this before, you could do it again. Focus...focus...You thought of his hand on your jaw, his fingers in your mouth, you pictured it, pictured it as he pushed his other hand inside of you, worked you from the inside out. You finally feel the burning desire pooling in your stomach making you whimper out more, stifling the noise with a palm between teeth. You chase it hard, you're unrelenting, trying to stay in an awkward position to finish this job once and for all. Your toes curl and slip on the tub, knee jerking out to knock bottles down onto the ceramic floor the soft noise coming from the base of your throat. In your mind's eye, you see him in an alternate kitchen, eating your baked goods with closed eyes, moaning as he chews, tongue darting out over lips as he nods along tell you how good you are.

Someone knocks at the door the same time your orgasm washes over you; the shock from both sending a strange high pitch squeal out of you. You're breathing is heavy, staggered and you blink around your shower to chase the floaters away, letting the sins swirl down the drain. "I'm in here!" You call too quickly turning off the shower and clambering to your feet to find a towel all the while shaking far too much.

You don't feel better. If anything, you feel worse, empty. You wrap the towel around yourself and turn the door handle to go back into the seclusion of your room.

Eddie is staring back at you. "W-What are-!"

"I couldn't find the bathroom." He answers not moving, not averting his eyes, just standing there staring at you.

"Okay." You reply going to move around him when he shifts to stand back in front of you.

You peer up at him, drops of water sliding down from your wet hair. "You take very loud showers." Your brows crease, "I heard the strangest little noises coming from in there." Your face pales at the implication; there's no way he heard you. His hand comes up, fingernails grazing your slick collarbone, "If you needed something you could have asked for it."

Your lids flutter at the touch. "I-I don't know what-what you mean?"

He smirks, fingers trailing up your neck feeling the rapid thump of your pulse. "Don't be shy on me now sweet girl as if you weren't sucking off my whole hand earlier." He rested his hand there, on the nape of your naked neck. "Is that what you thought about when you came? Did you think about me?"

At that you bite your lower lip and avert your gaze trying to root in some logic when the sudden insecurity rushes to the surface. "You just want more cookies."

Instead of laughing, of bantering back he takes a step closer tilting your face up towards him. "No." He leans down, his face coming inches to your own, lips brushing your own. "I want you." You exhale feeling it circle against his mouth back towards the faintest hint of vanilla extract within it. "There's something about you I just...adore."

You shoot away from him with a gasp remembering you're standing naked in your hallway about to kiss him. "No... No." You're not sure what you're denying your brain is a mush of desire. You run your hands over your face realizing all the steam had gone from the mirror. "I have to brush my hair." Is all you say pushing past him and into your room. You sit down at your vanity, still clutching your towel to your chest as you hunt down a hairbrush.

He's still there, standing in your doorway watching you brush your hair. You meet his dark molasse eyes in the vanity's mirror, "You didn't answer my question." Did you think of me? With a quiver in your eyes, you gave him a curt nod. He beams, drumming against your doorframe. "Goodnight sweet girl."

The phone rings Saturday morning. Your mother answers, "Henderson residence." Her eyes dart to Dustin the minute the voice beyond the phone greets her. "One second."

Dustin stands up, walking over to take the phone from her. "Hello?" His face falls as his eyes meet yours, "It's for you." Your brows furrow as you take a small sip of your coffee. "Eddie."

You nearly choke on the hot drink setting it down with a clatter to make your way to the phone. Dustin basically slams it to your palm, "Hello?"

"Why do you two answer the phone like that?" You turn to hide the smile crawling onto your face.

"Like what?" You gather the cord and move away from the table hiding behind the other wall to stray from prying eyes.

"Confused, like whoever is calling shouldn't be on the other end."

You twirl your fingers around the cord, "Well I didn't know who was calling, and we all seemed to believe it was for Dustin." You wait a few beats, "What uh...what are you calling about?"

"I fear I didn't make myself clear yesterday." He speaks with purpose. "So can I see you today?"

"Why?"

He laughs, "Can't I want to see you?"

"No, well yes, but I just...We don't...Is this about school?" You stammer out some strange string of words to make sense of him wanting to see you.

"No."

You wrap the cord around your wrist, undo it, then do it again the silly grin plastered on your face. "Is this some play to sell me drugs?"

He shushes you, "Now don't let mommy dearest find that out, or else she'll never allow me around you."

Your arms cross over your chest, "Okay so why do you want to see me? Do you need me to be bait while you rob a bank?"

"How'd you know?" The giggle slips out embarrassingly. "Just ugh," He groans. "Just come over."

"To do what?" You still, laughter hard to find as your heart pounds too loudly in your ears.

He sighs heavenly, "To see me. Teach me to make something you like. I may normally be a bad learner, but for you I shall make an exception."

"Do you even own flour?"

An hour later Eddie is bounding down his front porch stairs to help you carry a few grocery bags into his home. He eyes you suspiciously as you take in the sight of it; it isn't clean, but it isn't dirty. It's simply lived in and had a quaint warmness to it by every indication of life. "Do you live here alone?"

"No," He answers studying the contents of the bag confused. "I live with my uncle." You eye the line of hats along the wall and smile a little. "He's at work right now." You nodded walking back over to him taking in all the ingredients trying to not focus on the fact the pair of you were alone. "So, what am I attempting to ruin for you?"

You link your own fingers and hold them to your chest, "Well I love an almond croissant, but that may be out of your skill level." He playfully glares at you. "So, I figured we could start with something easy." You tug out the box of sponge cake mix, "Do you have eggs?" You take over from there, quickly familiarizing with the mismatched set of mixing bowls they seemed to have scattered along the cabinets. There was no rhyme nor reason to their version of storage, but you find your way.

"Do you prefer easy?" He asked, the sincere genuine question finding you in in the midst of whisking.

"Truth be told, it may take longer but making it by scratch always turns out better. You have more room to adjust for errors, or tweaking things to your liking." You nudge his shoulder, "Add too many chocolate chips."

He smirks down at you, "I like sweet things."

You chuckle, "I can tell." You move around the kitchen, "Do you have a cake tin or something?"

He points to some tall cabinet, "Maybe at the top."

"There's a science to it all, add too much of one thing, too little of another and it won't turn out right." You go up onto your toes to pull down the muffin tin. "I guess we'll make this work." You set it on the oven, preheating it while you can. "Suppose that's why I am so good at chemistry." You show him how to pour them out evenly into the tins to avoid overflowing, "It's probably okay this time since we're cutting them in half anyways."

He follows instructions beautifully and finally you let him slide them into the warm oven. He wipes his hands off on his shirt, long lines of powder down the black fabric, and turns back to you. "Where did you learn all this?"

Your smile falters, and quickly you busy yourself with cleaning up everything. "Oh, uh just enjoyed making Sunday pancakes too much with my mom, picked it up as a hobby." You knew you both had shitty dads from shallow small talk while you packed up textbooks and notebooks after your Tuesday meetings. "It was a good distraction during the...louder days."

"Dustin doesn't talk about him often either." He says walking up next to you as you rinse the cake mix off the sides of the bowl.

You shrug, "It's nothing noteworthy. We're better off for it."

"Your mom doesn't know you tutor me?"

You turn the water off smirking up at him, "And tear down that perfect image Dustin created for her? No way."

He smiles down at you, "Well you can tell her I know how to bake really well."

"I wouldn't go that far." You correct him. "Still have a while before we can put that to the test."

He toys with the end of your hair, "I am merely a student, so everything that goes wrong will be your fault." You eye the movement before glancing back up at him. "Will you let me kiss you if they're good?"

"You want to...kiss me?" You're breathless as you ask it.

"No, I want to fuck you, but..." He drops his hand to his side letting a deep breath out. "I'm being respectful."

You can't find air; your throat is closing up. "What if I don't want respectful?"

He seems taken aback, "Dustin said-!"

You whack his arm, "You asked Dustin about me?"

"I just asked if you were seeing someone." He puts his hands up in defense. "He told me no and you never have, never would, but now that I think about it, I think he just wants me to stop pining after you."

You laugh to yourself. "I haven't...I'm not well versed in that aspect, but that wasn't of my own choosing." You blush picking at the cake mix on your nail beds. "No one has really caught my eye, well, except for you." He's silent, so silent you peek up at him embarrassed, but he's staring at you in a new light.

Then he's grabbing your face and kissing you.

Your world explodes in technicolor flavors, the electric shock of his kiss sending a current down to your toes as your body curls into him. He forces your mouth open, slides his tongue in through the gap and swirls against your own. You moan into his mouth letting him lick every space between your teeth, the roof of your mouth, the sides of your cheek until finally he's sucking your own tongue back into his mouth. Your knees feel full of jelly as you taste along his tongue, the cigarette smoke, toothpaste, and scoops of cake mix he had stolen when you weren't looking.

"You shouldn't eat raw dough," You gasp out as his mouth trails down your jaw, your neck sucking along every inch of skin like melted ice cream off a cone.

"I'll survive a raw egg." He murmurs into your skin biting down into your flesh like you were the cake he wanted to eat.

You shake your head, hands raking through his hair. "It's not the...egg...It's the flour that's...bad."

He comes off of you, stares down at you with a bemused expression. "Shut up." He hoists you up onto the counter. Your body scatters groceries across the counter, onto the floor, and you pray the container of strawberries held. He's kissing you again, harsher, teeth gnashing with your own as his hand kneads into your breast through your shirt. You arch into the touch hitching your hips up around his body trying to rub that aching part of yourself against him. He tries to enter through the top of your shirt, gives up, and pushes it up your stomach to get a hand on bare flesh. Your mouth parts, breathing into his open mouth as his fingers roll your nipple between them, passing over it with the pad of his thumb the sensation making you dizzy.

His eyes dart around your face, the debate in his brown gaze, then he decides and he darts down to your hitched up clothing letting his tongue loll along the same nipples he had pinched taut. You moan louder, back arching off the counter as he's sucks harshly on the bud, learning the shape of it by the muscles in his mouth. Teeth dig in, nipping at your nipple, his bottom front row indenting into the supple flesh of your breast.

"I'm gunna touch you now." You're sure there's a question in there, but you don't answer, only jump at the sound of the button coming loose of your jeans. You think of your shower, think of begging the universe to send you anything to put inside of you, and now his fingers were clawing a path beneath your underwear. "Fuck." He hisses fingers slipping along your soaked pussy. "You're so fucking wet."

You know, you were cursed with this wretched need, and it oozed out of you like a poison he had the cure for. "Please." You beg eyes squeezed shut his fingers passing over you once more.

"Sweet girl." He coos against your chest before slipping two fingers inside of you. Your chest caves in, the gasp second nature at the feel of his long fingers pushing into you. You feel dingy countertop paint peeling beneath fingernails, biting your inner cheek as he pulses his hand in and out of you with a steady pace. Eddie lifts his head up, dark hair hovering against your chest as he pushes into you deeper, the groan echoing off of your teeth. "Good?"

You nod, "Yes."

"Better than when you do it?" He smirks at you, moving his hand faster, harder. You're fervently nodding again, his knuckles curling up inside of you, your hands now suddenly twisting into his shirt as your hips tilt up to chase it. He shifts slightly other hand snaking around your thigh to wrap around and land his middle finger right on your throbbing clit.

At that your head falls back against the counter. Your eyes catch on sheer drapes, the breaks in the curtains that allow in golden sunlight. It felt so warm, burning up through his little kitchen, and then something else moves along your cunt. Something warm, something golden, fluid and intimate and when you look back down Eddie's head is between your legs.

He hums against you, the sound vibrating through you, his hand thrusting in and out of you, his tongue drawing circles into your clit. He glances up at you between thighs, dark eyes ripping a hole through you as his face burrowed inside of you. You feel the little movements of his tongue, every delicious stroke of his fingers and all at once it's too much. You grip the edge of the counter, you grip your own thigh, nails tearing through skin as your foot nearly kicks him off of you. "Eddie." You moan, head falling back in ecstasy, body clamping down around his hand as your cum. It's blinding, it's the sunlight between gaps, it's the timer screaming at you. He swallows it down like sweet nectar, lapping every sugary piece you'll give him through your orgasm. He continues, runs his tongue along you, uses it to push into your clenched cunt to run smoothly along the walls of it, letting it flutter around him. "The..." You try. "The...Eddie." You pant.

"What's that?" He mutters into you, his nose brushing your clit.

You shake your head to clear it. "The cakes." You exhale breathlessly.

"Fuck the cakes." He lazily licks at you, body blazing with the feel of it and you almost agree with him, but again the noise of the timer blares down at you. He groans and pulls away from you finally shutting it off. You watch him in silence pull them from the oven as you catch your breath before sliding off the counter to pull your pants back up. He turns back to you with a smug expression, "I knew you'd taste better."

He comes up to you, hands on either side of you, chin still glistening with your pleasure. The warm scent of cake engulfs you, grounds you enough to bring your fingers up his jaw to tug him back towards you. You hesitantly inch your face upward until your top lip grazes his bottom, and then you kiss him. It's gentle where the first had been hasty, it's sweet where the first had been tooth-achingly rotten. You meld your lips to his own, sliding your tongue along his bottom lip tasting the tangy remnants of you. His hand comes up to your jaw, tilting you backwards, allowing you the part in his lips to glide your tongue inside his mouth swallowing the bittersweet taste of his spit. "Agree to disagree." You smile into his mouth. "We must go to the next step in this process."

"My bedroom is that way." He points over his shoulder.

You shove him away playfully. "The recipe you pervert."

"Fine." He grumbles.

You walk around his counter where the groceries had spilling in the throes of passion. "This part is fairly easy." You sigh relieved as you pick up the closed container of strawberries and can of whip cream. "Just need to chop these up." You push the container across the counter towards him. "You may do the honors my dear sous-chef." You go back around towards the tins of sponge cake poking them gently with a finger; they seemed done enough, you did worry when you popped them out the bottoms were slightly burned in your distraction.

You hear the quiet slice of a knife. "How do you picture your life?" He asked, he's cutting them too thick, but you find it doesn't quite matter all that much. "Nice home, nice husband, nice kids?"

"I suppose so." You weigh it in your head. "Maybe after college."

"How many kids?" He continues before you can answer, "Four sounds like a good number."

You laugh preposterously, "Four! Why stop there? Give me eight, we'll have a whole sports team at our disposal." He glances up at you a little more hopeful that amused. "Why don't you focus on graduating before expanding your roster."

He grumbles, "Fine."

You tilt your head to the side studying him in an untroubled air. "And is my husband some covert drug dealer?"

"Do you want him to be?" He peers up at you. You only give him an easy smile, "So college, what did you plan on majoring in? For something culinary?" You move to grab the tins of cake, popping them individually out of their holes onto a larger plate. Your backs are to each other as a plan for the future is formed in a secret language.

You search for a small knife to slice them in half, 'No this is a fun space, I wouldn't like to mix work and pleasure." You carry the tray of sliced up sponge cake to slot next to all of his sliced-up strawberries. "What about you?"

He shrugged. "Hoping the ole band will take off. Dunno hard to plan for something I don't know if I'll ever get to."

You nodded knowing he'd get there, 'That's right, you play...guitar? Right?" You take his plate of strawberries motioning to his room, "Go play me something. I'll finish this up it's not too difficult to grasp spraying whip cream." He gives you a toothy smile and rushes off to the back of his home returning later with a guitar. You're staging the ingredients, popping the whip cream cap off as he returns.

"Any request?" He asked setting up shop on his coffee table as you spray out the whip cream on half of the cut-up sponge cakes. You shake your head, and as you set the can down, he begins to play. You don't recognize the song at all, a strange quick melody but knowing him it had to be some form of metal. You have a soft smile on your face as you arrange the strawberries on the bed of cream between sponge cake.

His series of hypothetical thoughts begins to seep into the seams as easily as cream on cake, sopping up the mushy inside of it until reality blurred and you begin to form a delusion. Of a life with him, of children running underfoot, of him playing gentle music as an oven roared behind you. A little sweet life with an imperfect boy. You thought of your absent father, of his inconsiderate one, and figured you two could meet in the middle to find some version of normal.

The room comes back into focus, Eddie is still strumming along to some tune, and you blame the orgasm for your dreamy heart filling your head with false fantasies. "They're done." You say and he glances up at you with a calm expression. He sets his guitar down and bounds towards the awaiting treats prettily sitting on the plate. You pick one up as he does, take a bite as he does with eyes locked. It's fine, nothing special, you've made better.

"These are great." He exclaims shoving half of it in mouth.

You chuckle, "You need to expand your palate." You set it back down on the plate.

"I thought you tasted just fine." Your cheeks burn at the feel of his tongue lapping you up watching his tongue dart across those very same lips. His hand reaches out, thumb sliding along the corner of your mouth, and when he pulls back a residue of whipped cream sits on the pad of his thumb.

He sucks it into his mouth, "I uh..." You're unable to avert your eyes. "I just meant I make the whip cream myself, and the can just doesn't compare."

He is lost in you, a serene smile on his face, content to look at you forever. "Sweet girl, have I told you how much I adore you."

"You mentioned it once or twice." You chew on your lip to hide the smirk, the fluttering echoing in your stomach, your chest beneath his intense gaze.

He kisses you again, two hands cupping your face, mouth pressed against yours relishing in the simple feel of your mouth on his, the flavor of strawberry shortcake shared between two lovers.

When you close the front door of your house, you can't wipe the grin off of your face, can't hide the dazed eyes of overwhelming affection. You barely notice your younger brother until he yanks the cord to turn the lamp on. "Dustin!" You nearly drop the tray of half of today's baking efforts, begging Eddie to keep most, especially for his uncle.

"You've been gone a while." He tells you.

"We," You close your eyes finding an excuse, "lost track of time."

Dustin steps closer, examining your face beneath light, the tray in your hands. Then he sighs, defeated hands hanging limp at his side, "Don't take my friend away from me." You want to make it clear he had been yours first, that Dustin wouldn't even know Eddie if not for you. But at the end of the day, you were a big sister, you hadn't been a full person until you became a big sister. So, who else if not him.

"Dusty," Your heart sinks as you hurry to set the tray down and take his hands in your own. "I would never."

Dustin scoffs, "You already have, he never stops asking about you, even last night, I knew he was only coming here to see you."

You weren't dating, you probably should slap some label on it since the intimate part of a relationship had begun, but he didn't ask, neither did you. The harsh marks hidden on your neck felt claiming enough, and you move forward with that knowledge. "That isn't true." You lie. "He loves that game as much as you, look how upset he got when I took you early that one night." His eyes perk up a bit, "Who knows?" You rub a soothing hand down his arm, "Maybe you'll get to see him more now."

"That's all find and dandy, but what about when it's not." He was too smart for his own good. You only frown in response, at the logical reason your brother had. "If I lose him because of you, I will never forgive you, and if he hurts you, I may have to send Nancy Wheeler after him."

You try to chuckle, "Okay, I will take that into consideration...for his safety." The corner of his mouth twitches up, and you pull him into your arms, "He made me strawberry shortcakes."

Dustin pulled back, "He baked for you? Were they laced?"

"No," You actually laugh that time. "They were okay, could have used less time in the oven if you ask me."

Against Dustin's logical observation he is glad Eddie lingers more often, finding excuse to hang around your locker at the end of the day which always just ended up with you inviting him over for an early dinner. He always helps you make desert, sneaking in spoonfuls behind your back. Your mother enjoys him enough, not digging too much into his past to judge him. She trusted Dustin and your choice in company, and you had a strange feeling being around the pair of you was invoking a change in Eddie Munson.

You had heard through the grape vine he was no longer selling drugs, at least to anyone you knew of. You're not sure what brought on the sudden shift in priorities, but a strange sapping feeling splotched along your skin feeling it was because of you.

When you walk into your usual spot in the library he sitting there sketching some strange design for his club. His head perks up when he hears you coming, "Sweet girl." He smiles patting the chair next to him.

"Ms. Kelley thinks we don't need to meet anymore." You tell him sliding into the chair. "I told her I'd leave that up to you."

"Smart girl because I decline." He sits up straighter. "Actually, I accept and let's move these study dates to my house."

You roll your eyes, "No. That is a recipe for disaster."

"The only recipe I am more well versed in than you." His hand rubs up and down your thigh. "Come on eight kids takes a lot of time, we should get started now."

You grab his hands, "Eddie, I will kill you if you make me have eight of your wild haired freak babies."

He smirks yanking your chair closer to him to brush his nose against yours. "I love it when you say make babies."

"You're sick in the head," You grin against his teeth. He kisses you then, a gentle push of his mouth against yours, a hand stroking up your thigh. "Eddie," You whisper the warning.

"Shush." You glance beyond him at the empty library. "I can't even get to you." He pokes at the button on your jeans. "How rude of you."

You relax, running hands through his hair, "Sorry, not everyone can plan out their sexual escapades in advance."

"Oh." He reaches forwards with two hands grabbing you by the hips and tugging you forward until your stumbling onto his lap. "Just wait until the weather warms up and you'll be forced to wear little skirts and dress. I'll be living inside of you then sweet girl." He kisses your mouth again, and in the moment, you would let him lay you on the table and take you here. He knows it too, as your thighs rub together, as you whine into his mouth. "I'll see you tonight."

It is only 7:25 PM and you're driven up the wall with boredom. You try to watch whatever your mother is watching on the television, it's so dull you feel every tick of the seconds hand on the clock. You try to read but are unable to comprehend the words.

Tried and true, you find yourself in the kitchen measuring out cocoa powder for brownies. You find peace in baking, find it distracting while you wait for whatever is to greet you later tonight. Time passes fluidly like water in an hourglass as you shove the glass dish into the orange glow of the oven. "Don't you need to go pick up Dusty?" Your mother asked from the sofa the T.V. light mesmerizing her.

"Eddie said he'd drive him home." Your elbows slide against the counter.

She nodded, "Oh that is nice of him. I like that he's been coming around here a lot." You trace the speckles in the countertop waiting for her to continue. "He's cute."

You feign shock. "Claudia Henderson are you a cougar?"

"Hush." She laughs to herself. The room fills with a comfortable silence, her show some lull of background noise. You knew she was slightly prodding to get some dirty little secret out of you, but it didn't need to be all that serious. You push off the counter and take a seat on the sofa next to her trying to watch the sitcom she was watching. "I just mean...it's been nice getting to know him better if he's gunna be...around more."

You roll your eyes, "Spit it out woman."

"He's close with Dustin is all..." She side-eyes you. "And you."

"And me." You agree. That's all you give her, and she stops prying. You don't even try to attempt to pay attention as the front door flies open and it's Dustin.

Your mother smiles at him, "There's a plate for you in the microwave." He beams and saunters off as you shoot up to follow him.

"H-How uh...How was club?" You're unsure where to stand so you awkwardly lean against the fridge. Dustin raises his eyebrow at you, the tension deflates, "Did he ask for me at all when he dropped you off?"

"No." Dustin scoffed fishing out a fork. You peered out the front windows seeing no headlights and then look back at your brother grabbing his dinner plate out of the microwave taking it to the kitchen table. "Not everything is about you"

You nodded, "True, sorry." You sit in the chair across from him. "But really how was your club?"

He beams divulging into all the nitty gritty details of the campaign, the epic highs and lows, the crazy rolls and spells, every funny moment that even brings a laugh from your lungs. Before you know it he had finished eating, and the timer was beeping at you. "What did you make?"

"Brownies." You hiss as the oven mitt slips slightly singeing the tip of a finger. It clatters on the stove as you stick the digit in your mouth. "Mom probably has ice cream stashed somewhere." You're moving for the sifter pouring out that white powdered sugar through it to shake out onto the brownie. "It probably tastes so good while they're hot."

He's yanking open the freezer, "Oo when it gets all melty." You set aside the sifter and are already moving to find a knife to cut him a piece. "Thank you." He says as you slide it onto a new smaller plate for him. You watch him take up his seat again, small plate in one hand, carton of ice cream in the other and smile at him. His eyes go off onto the television to study whatever your mother was watching as you peel away heading back upstairs to your room.

The minute you close the door behind you a hand clamps over your mouth to stifle the scream you let out, "I've been up here for thirty minutes sweet girl."

Your body relaxes as you tug his hand off of your mouth to turn to him. "I was talking to Dustin." He doesn't care. "I made brownies." You offer, but he only wants one thing.

He brings your mouth to his walking you back into your room. You collapse onto your bed, his body hovering atop of yours tongue still managing to worm its way into your mouth, "You didn't eat any." He points out as it scoops at the deep set of molars searching for evidence. You open wider for him, let his mouth consume your own, let him steal air from your lungs as he roamed willingly around. Your right arm was wedged beneath him; your left was digging into his arm as he kept your face sealed to his own.

Your lungs seize as he licks into your mouth, refusing to come off of you two hands now clutching your face so hard a small breathless noise leaves you. You try to speak his name, but it's swallowed with your spit down his throat. Finally, you pinch him feeling his bottom lip slide upward, air finally slipping in. "Eddie." You gasp. He grinds his hips against your leg, his cock digging into the muscle of your thigh. With a dizzy head, you're thankful he finally takes his mouth off of yours if only to suck on the skin beneath your jaw. "Sorry for making you wait." Your hand goes to the back of his head.

"S'right." He mutters into your skin. "You're here now."

"Was the window..." A shutter as his tongue glides down your neck. "Window. Was it hard?"

He chuckles, the sound vibrating along your esophagus. "No. It was so easy to get to you." A shiver tip-toes down your spine. "I'm gunna touch you now." He repeats as his body shifts freeing your arm as he lays slightly beside you hand crawling under your shirt to cup a naked breast.

You bite your lip. He rolls your nipple between fingers, pinching it taut. "Ca-Can I touch you?"

"I need to get you wet first." Your brows crease but he's now the one crawling under your shirt the fabric stretched over his head as his mouth attaches to your nipple. He lays his head flat along your chest, and then he just stays there, tongue lazily licking the peaked bud. He sucks it into his mouth, lolling it against the bed of it, your fingers fisting into the sheets. His other hand is repeating the same action to your other breast, and every small movement of his tongue sends waves up heat between your legs. You tighten your thighs around him, trying to press yourself against him.

He comes off of you the hot air of his breath warming the soaked nipple beneath your shirt, but he only moves to the other one. He flicks his tongue against it, small little movements that makes your lids flutter close, then he snakes an arm around your back, pulling you tight, sucking it into his mouth. His mouth widens, teeth digging in, his body suddenly hitching up so high it nearly lifts you off the bed.

The noise of it stills him. There's a loud smack of spit as he breaks the suction. "Oh, this isn't going to work."

Your heart sinks, "What? What do you mean?" He pushes your shirt off of his head to stare down at you.

"Your bed is too loud." He whispers. A little flutter of relief. "Can we sneak over to my place?"

"No, my mom will kill me if she finds out." You glance down, the wetness from his mouth soaking through your shirt, his arm still gripping you and you wonder if he'll just steal you out the window regardless.

Eddie shakes his head, "I can't fuck you in this loud ass bed."

Blood drains from your head and pulses somewhere too far south. A torch between legs, "You..."

"I want to fuck you." His arm slides gently out from under you laying you flat on the bed. He leans over you, "I want to be inside of you." Your cheeks heat, he kisses the warmth. "I want to fill you with so much cum."

You swallow, "Oh." Your eyes dart beyond him, "We can um...do it on the floor."

"Is that what you want sweet girl?" His knuckle traces your hard nipple through the moist fabric of your shirt. "Would that be comfortable for you?" It was nice of him to ask, to consider you in this mundane decision. You did want this, him, you had since his long arms reached for brown sugar, since his fingers had fucked your mouth. It was a feverish need when it came to him, and you so badly needed this. "You gotta answer me before I take you on this springy bed so loudly Mrs. Henderson will surly never let me see you again."

You nodded.

He nipped at your ear, "Words, sweet girl."

"Yes, just...have sex with me on the floor."

His smile was wicked as he yanked you off the bed to deposit you on the carpet. "One sec." He ripped your blanket off of the bed and flung it outward spreading it over the length of where you would lay. He tapped his finger to his mouth, then grabbed a small throw pillow and chucked it onto the floor as well. He kneeled, setting it near the top of the blanket and motioned for you to lay down. "Okay?"

"Okay." You smiled. He helped you tug off your shirt revealing bruising breasts, then he dragged your pants and underwear off until you lay bare beneath him.

"So sweet." He kissed swollen lips before sitting up to remove his own shirt.

You shot up covering your breasts. "I forgot to lock the door!"

He climbs to his feet laughing to himself as he locked the door shucking off his own underclothes to toss in a pile near yours. He pushes your shoulder slightly to make you lay down again. You brace for something, instead his mouth gently caresses your own, instead you feel fingers trailing up your burning thigh. Two fingers graze along your soaked pussy, working you open until they slide into you letting your gaping mouth rest against Eddie's. He gives you little time to adjust to the intrusion as his fingers spread within you, stretching you, curling into you at an already quick pace. "I'm gunna make you cum once before, okay?"

You nodded, "O...kay." You bit your lip to stifle the moan.

His head moves down your neck, teeth grazing damp skin. "Do you want me to do it like this?" He thrust his hand along a soft spot you had never been able to reach, and the desire unravels at the idea of his cock doing the same thing. "Or with my mouth." He licks along your collarbone, sucking so hard to leave a mark.

"M-Mouth." You pant out letting his tongue lick at the heaving gap of muscle within your collarbone.

He smiled into your skin descending your body. His fingers stayed rooted deep inside of you as his mouth wrapped around your clit. It was heady, quick, to reach the goal he set for himself, but he wanted you to find your orgasm fast and you would. He drew circles into you with his tongue, quick flicks that made your hips buck into his face nails digging into his hair. You shoved your forearm into your mouth to stifle the noises threatening to fly out of you as he abuses your clit with his mouth. The heat is an inferno behind your naval, between your legs, and you peer down at the fire engulfing you in his molten brown eyes. He's focused on you, barely blinking besides the small twitch of his left eye. Your legs widen for him; he swallows you down fingers carving out a home for himself inside you, the all-consuming feeling speeding inward towards his touch.

You cum with a slacked jaw, parted lips, and his face cemented between your legs. It gushes out of you with clawed fingers and nail indents into the supple flesh of your ass. You feel the body of his tongue flattened over your cunt, his face burrowing further into you. In his haste, he had seemed in a rush, and now it appeared he refused to come off of you, his moan reverberating through your body. His hand pulls out of you to wrap under your thighs and tilt you up for him more, prodding your oversensitive clit with the apex of his tongue.

You whine into your radial bone giving his head a small shove and you suddenly feel teeth. He nips and you thrash beneath him biting so hard you feel the rush of blood. "Sorry." He plants a wet kiss to your bruised clit, your inner thigh. "You're too delectable." And even there he can't help taking a small bite out of you. He sets your hips right and pushes your knees apart coming to hover about you. "I'm gunna fuck you now."

You're not sure if the heat in your face is from the receding orgasm or the way his dark eyes take in your heaving chest while preparing you to take him. He waits a beat, waits for you to change your mind if you so choose. You chew on your bottom lip and nod with permission finally remembering he wished for the vocalization. "Okay." He leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth, cock nudging at your entrance. "Shouldn't we..." You blush trying to find the right way to phrase it. "Use something?"

"You're wet enough I think."

You still him. "No like a condom."

He scoffs, "No."

"Won't I...ya know..." You're pretty sure it takes more than one time, but every sex-ed class taught you it was every time.

"Oh yeah." He begins to push into you groaning out the rest of the sentence. "I'm hoping for it." You don't think, you can't, as he splits you open inside out. You feel every slow inch of him sliding further into you until there's nowhere else for him to go besides being nestled so deep. Your bedroom in dark, besides the small lamp sitting on at your bedside and yet that is even too bright. You squeeze your eyes, tense, fingernails tattooing Eddie's back. "Shh shh shh," He whispers into your neck. "Gotta be quiet for me sweet girl."

You chew on your cheek not realizing the little whimpers coming from you in the heat of the night. He stilled for a moment, letting your body relax around him, learning his fit and warping around it. It didn't hurt, not exactly, you supposed you had been wet enough, it was just an odd sensation of fullness that instead of words a moan comes out. "Sorry." You moan out again.

His deep laugh is muffled by every rise and fall of your chest. "Feel good?"

"Yes. I-!" You squirm beneath it. "Can't you move like-!" He answers with movement, with a slight pull backwards and a rocking forward motion with his hips. You open your mouth, the noise so involuntarily lingering up your throat his hand flies upward to clamp over your mouth.

"Bite down if you have to." His own words are a pant as each thrust grows quicker, harder. "I'm not stopping until you're full of cum."

You shook your head not risking to speak, he met your eyes hoping he could understand the message you were trying to convey. Please don't stop. You do bite down, as his cock slides against something so delicious it makes your vision blurry, your hips tilting to take him more.

"Fucking christ you're so-!"

"Shush." You hiss out into his warm hand tongue tasting your arousal still dripping down his fingers.

He slams into you hard, full force, a breath heaves from you and then he is relentless. You should have been more weary of the lewd slapping of drenched skin, but it feels too good to care. He licks his lips fighting more vulgar sentences knowing it would drive both of you crazy with every dirty utterances of your shared perversion.

He fits in every groove of you, fills you to the brim with every hard stroke of his cock. He straightens up, hand still secure over your mouth, watching the way your cunt swallows him in. "Take me so good, sweet girl." He can't help it, can't help reminding you where you belonged. His other hand goes to your clit pressing in so lightly, but even that has your back arching for him as you grit your teeth. "Gunna cum so deep, fill you up so much."

Your eyes roll back as you fingers grasp for purchase on your blanket. You probably shouldn't let him, but that was an after problem as your orgasm slammed into you. His name is strained on your lips, your body clenching around him the world dark as you squeeze your eyes tight. You squeeze him between your thighs, his hips smacking against your own with quick uncontrollable movement.

His palms comes off, but his fingers hook onto your bottom teeth unhinging your jaw as he spills inside of you with a strangled sound. He lands atop of you, elbow braced to keep most of his weight off of you. Your pussy throbs around him slightly in the aftershock causing his cock to twitch and spurt further into you making him hiss.

You run a hand down his frizzy hair, he kisses your cheek, sweat is a syrup, coating both of your skin. "Are you okay?"

"Yes." You answer.

"Did it feel good?" He still won't pull out of you.

You don't mind. "Yes." You can't help the smile, "Really good."

He breaths you in. "You smell like sugar." He kisses the side of your mouth, your lips. "Don't have sex with anyone else."

You chuckle. "Wasn't planning on it."

He stares down at you. "Don't be with anyone else." He brushes damp hair away from your honey sweet sticky forehead. "You're with me now."

"Okay." You whisper and he finally pulls out of you.

He sits back on his heels between your legs, and you go to sit up, he puts a hand on your hip to stop you. "Hold on. I just wanna..." He doesn't finish the sentence, eyes transfixed on your cunt fluttering in the emptiness he had left you in. His head tilts, you cook under his intense eyes watching his cum slowly trail out of you. His mouth parts, two fingers reaching forward like a moth to flame, before he pushes whatever had come out back inside of you.

"Eddie." You gasp, but he pushes in, shoving it deeper until you wince. His hand retreats, eyes never leaving the substance he pulls back with his fingers.

His eyes flicker back up to yours. "So pretty." He clambers over you again, pulling you against him in an earnest kiss. Then he falls beside you on the blanket with a small peck pressed into your naked shoulder.

You sigh, "Sneak out in the morning."

"Why? I'll just come down for breakfast."

You huff a laugh. "Oh sure Claudia would simply love that, and to think she was starting to like you."

He perches onto an elbow, "She was?" You chew on your lip nodding. "Well then I must stay on her good side."

Eventually you climb to your feet to go clean yourself off in the bathroom. You don't bother with the light, not wanting to take in the damage you had let him indulge in as the worst of it slide down your thigh. You pad down the stairs quietly, the house silent beyond the loud pound of your heart rate.

Dustin had foiled your brownies for you. You smile for the kindness of your brother then rip it off to plop a hearty piece on a plate with two forks. You don't bother with ice cream not wanting to make the trek downstairs again to put it away. You scurry up back to you room just in time to see Eddie trying to ignite his lighter near the cigarette dangling between his lips.

"Eddie Munson!" You hiss in a whisper rushing over to him to smack it out of the open window. He watches it fall to the dark grass below before turning back to you, "My mother would smell it you...you..." You thwap him on the forehead with a finger. "Scoundrel."

He gives you a sarcastic look, "Clever." He pockets the lighter though taking in the brownie sitting on the small plate. He sighs but comes off your sill to slide onto the window seat below. You sit down across from him as he uses the second fork to pick at the desert. You watch him take a bite, watch his eyes close as he chews, as he swallows. "I need to know how to make these. You know how much money I could make if I put weed in them."

"I thought you stopped doing all that?" You hand him the plate to eat however much he wanted.

He sighed, "I slowed down." He picks at the brownies. "It's a process. Sometimes I forget."

"Why the sudden change?" You watch him push pieces around, the soft scrap of metal and glass until he glances up at you the answer in the same chocolate brown eyes. "Oh."

He shrugged it off, "I don't want you or Dustin getting mixed up in all of that."

You waved him off trying to fight the feeling of it all choking the air from the base of your throat. "Don't worry about us, we take care of our own."

His hand lands on your wrist. "No." He sets the plate aside and comes closer hand coming to cup your face. "I want to be your own." A stroke of his thumb, "There will be no one else for either of us." Your hand came up to cover his, the small smirk on his lips, "Well I guess we can keep Dustin too."

"He'd be rather hard to get rid of."

Eddie spends the night. You keep your door locked all night and set an early alarm to usher him back out of the window with the dawn. He sits on the pane awaiting a kiss even though he'd be seeing you once more in an hour or two. "Should I park in the driveway?"

"Yes." You nodded not even sure where he had tucked his van away when he snuck in. "I'm gunna take a shower." He glanced down at your bare neck emphasizing the problem; you nearly shoved him out of the window. "Cover myself, then start breakfast." He's tracing one of the larger marks he left. "You can come then, maybe like in an hour-and-a-half."

He sighs, "Can I cum in you again really quick?"

You scoff, "No." You do lightly shove him, but he stares at you with seriousness. "No, now go."

He grumbles but throws his legs over the window sill and begins to climb down. It did look rather easy when he did it. You hurry across the hall to shower the scent of sex off of your body. In the heat of the shower, as you cleanse last nights sins off it's hard to keep your hands from touching yourself again. With every trace of an affectionate bruise or claiming mark, your skin felt charged in areas that sent heat to your core. You were slipping your hand between your legs when a soft knock sounded.

"O-One sec!" You shouted and shut the water off. It was for the best, time was not on your side. You dry off quickly, wrapping yourself in a bath robe before flinging the door open.

Dustin is on the other side groggily rubbing his eyes. "Move." He stares at you before his eyes narrow in on your neck. "What is that?"

Your hand covers it, "Oh itching. Think something in the brownies set off an allergy."

"You don't have allergies." He pointed out.

You rush past him, "Exactly." You close your door softly behind you to not wake your mother yet and hurried to your closet to find something. How incredibly irresponsible to engage in such guilty pleasure that would surely get you in trouble. The worst of it was beneath your neckline thankfully; you find something, a sort of mock turtleneck shirt and jeans using makeup to cover the rest.

Dustin isn't in the kitchen when you get down there and maybe it's adrenaline but you are quick to pull everything out you needed to make food. It feels easy to fall into that routine, safe, a way to busy idle hands. You almost forget the events of last night as you mash up bananas for the pancake batter, you barely remember the way his cock slid into you as you crack eggs. You definitely don't remember how warm it felt to sleep within his arms, how his chest settled so nicely into your back, how his light snores of deep sleep lulled you into your own.

You were falling so hard for the boy, and for some reason, the way he looked at you last night as the reason for his change in behavior, well it certainly felt reciprocated.

You glance at the clock on the stove knowing it was well past time enough for him to knock or call or whatever his plan was, but it was silence, and now that surety was festering into insecurity. Dustin bounds down the stairs already trying to fish out a stray piece of bacon. You slapped his hand away, "Hey I have blackmail."

"Oh yeah?" You roll your eyes. There was no way-!

"Eddie was here last night, wasn't he?" You whip your head on him so fast, the muscle pulls and you have given yourself away. "Hah! I knew it." He steals a piece of bacon and leans against the counter watching you glare at him rubbing out the kink in your neck.

Then, you sigh putting your head in your hands. "What gave me away?"

He laughs at you, "Just now. It was a theory, but you have guilty written all over you." He takes a crunchy bite, "Also you have a dirty plate in your room with two forks."

"Shit." You hiss. At least he didn't say you were loud because that would have been mortifying. There was no point in lying, "He was supposed to come by this morning."

Dustin takes in the situation, takes in your stooped posture over the stove flipping pancakes. "He could have fell asleep waiting. Eddie's not good with time." He holds back the fact that the past few weeks Eddie had been great with time unless it was deliberate.

Your mother comes down the stairs before you could wallow in self-pity any longer. "I made coffee." You point to the fragrant pot as she rubs an affectionate arm down your back.

"So sweet." She goes to the cabinet to pull down a mug. "Want a cup?" You nodded and she pulls down a second, a souvenir from Dustin's summer camp that was decorated as a beaker. She makes it how you like it, splash of cream and a spoonful of sugar.

The doorbell rings and with it your heart pounds too fast in your chest. "I'll get it." Dustin says all too giddy, your mother watching him with furrowed brow handing you a filled coffee cup. You listen too intensely to Dustin's footfalls towards the front door, the sound of the lock turning, the doorknob rotating, the hinges swinging open. "Eddie! What are you doing here?"

He'd make a horrible actor. "To see you little Henderson." Eddie replies and you hear the sweet rustling of his hand on your brother's hair, "Also my girlfriend." You nearly drop the mug to the ground at that word and stare at your mother bewildered, she just smirks at you over the rim of her own cup like a smug cat.

"Take your shoes off." Dustin instructs then making his way back into the kitchen where he stares at you expectantly.

Eddie rounds the wall into the kitchen the next second holding a small bouquet of snapdragons. "Hi sweet girl." You give him a sheepish smile before he turns to your mother. "These are for you Mrs. Henderson." She sets down her mug and takes them from him sniffing the soft petals. "Made sure it's safe for your cat."

"How considerate of you Eddie." She pats him twice on the chest then goes off to find a vase.

"Girlfriend?" You mouthed loudly at him.

He shrugged, "I thought I was pretty obvious last night."

"Yes, let's talk about last night." Dustin cuts in.

Eddie looks at you, then to your brother, then back to you. "I knew I should have smothered you with that pillow." You cringe.

"Disgusting." Dustin covered his ears and walked off. "Don't swindle me again Eddie Munson, I don't like being used."

Eddie rolled his eyes taking steps towards you until his hands slid around your waist. "He got a free ride from a long uninterrupted campaign, he should enjoy being swindled more often." He peered behind you, "It always smells so good in here." He takes in your face then shifts mouth going to the apple of your cheek before sucking the skin into his mouth, tongue licking along heating flesh until you hear him swallow. "You had batter on your cheek."

"Thanks." You breathe up at him.

"I get so fucking hard when I watch you bake." He kisses your mouth.

You smile against his lips, "So domesticating."

He pulls you tighter to him. "Let me fuck you please I need to cum inside you." You giggle and shake your head peeling yourself from him to plate the rest of the pancakes and turn off the stove.

"Sit." You snap your fingers at the table. He follows along, sitting next to Dustin as you set the food on the table. Your mother comes up from the basement with a pretty green vase to set at the center of the table. You take a sip of your coffee as you watch her take her normal spot.

She smiles at everyone, "I love when the table is this full."

Dating Eddie Munson was nothing short of intense. You barely remember what alone time was as he consumes every moment with you. It was a well of need he knew all too well how to satiate. You took it any chance he'd give it to you; in every intimate way your brains could conjure. It was sitting at your kitchen table watching you bake only to be in your room via the window by the time you finished cleaning up to fuck you senseless, his cum coating the inside of you.

That would be fine, you enjoyed it more than you probably should every time his spend warmed the walls of your cunt. It would be fine, except Dustin had weaseled his way into your relationship, and you didn't have the heart to force him away from his friend. Every car ride, he joined. Every impromptu trip to the store for another bag of sugar, he climbed into the back seat. He found ways to steal Eddie away from you in the form of campaign plans and nerdy endeavors you encouraged because your brother's smile was so genuine. You figured with time the thrill of this new relationship would simmer into something comfortable, but time passes and you still burned in a way no freezer would chill.

So, you hatched a plan to prevent your brother from interrupting your time in a way no feelings would be hurt. "I'm spending the night at Natalie's house." A horrid lie, your mother is none the wiser.

"Do you want me to drop you off?" She ask. She didn't like you having the car overnight.

"No uh-I'll walk." She eyes you suspiciously. "It's light out still I'll make it there okay." You knew where he lived but weren't quite sure how far it was by walking. She didn't need to know that. "I'll call when I get there."

She smiles, Dustin narrows his eyes at you as you exit the living room. You picked up your small bag by the door and left before the nerve got the better of you. You walk for ten minutes watching the rows of houses disappear, another seven minutes and the sign for Forest Hills is in sight under yellow lights. The grin grows, your pace picking up slightly as you enter searching for the familiar sight of his van to guide you towards him. You walk along the gravel path with purpose, with excitement.

You step up on the small stoop and knock on the door. A minute later the door is unlocking and Eddie stands there with a confused expression, then his eyes light up. "Sweet girl." He tugs you inside, into him kissing your mouth, your cheek, your temple. "What are you doing here?"

"Spending the night at Natalie's." You chuckle. "Can I borrow your phone?" He leads you to it, lets you dial the familiar number to let your mother know you were safe and sound and would see her in the morning. The minute you hang it up his hands are on your hips tugging you backwards, burying his face into your hair, hands roaming up your body.

"You smell like raspberries." He mutters as his thumb grazes the underside of your breast. "What's in the bag?"

Your breath stutters, "I don't know. I threw random stuff in to look convincing."

He smiles against your temple. "So you knew you'd be here naked."

"It may have crossed my mind." You tilt your head back against his shoulder exposing your neck to him which he dives down to attack with soft lips. "You gunna take me to your bedroom now?"

"Not even an attempt at small talk? Are you using me for sex?" He's leading you anyways, down the hall, towards his mess of a room. You don't even bother to take in the details, simply spin around to attach your mouth to his own.

You run hands around the back of his neck, interlocking fingers at the base of his skull. "You're right we should absta-!" Your body is flying backwards until it falls into a bed of sheets and blankets and stray pillows. You're laughing as he climbs over you, and you think that that was the biggest perk of this long-winded acquaintanceship. It left little room for the unknown; all it took was a small kiss, maybe a few fingers in your mouth to push it into something new.

Before his mouth descends on your own you grab him by the sides and flip him over. He raises a brow at you watching you shift down his body, "Don't." His hand shoots out to your shoulder but you're slipping out of his grasp to unbutton his pants.

"You never let me." You pout pulling his half hard cock out of his jeans and running a soft hand down it.

"It's a waste of cum if you swallow it." His head falls back though growing firmer with every stroke of your palms. You scoff at his logic and wrap your mouth around the tip. The precum makes the taste of him salty, you're humming along anyways taking him to the back of your throat. "Fuck." He hisses, the tip of him brushing a part so deep you nearly gag.

You pop off, "Then don't cum."

He glares at you, then with a large hand to your skull he pushes you back down onto him. You smirk against his cock, sucking him in tighter tongue flatten along the base of him. "Take it so good, don't you?" He keeps moving your head to suck him faster, your hand going around his shaft to stoke what your mouth cannot. "Want my cum so bad huh?" You moan against him tongue swirling around the head as you take him deeper to the point you do gag. Tears burn at the corner of your eyes, spit traveling down towards your wrist. He tries to buck his hips up, to do it again, and you let him. You'd let him flip you onto you back and use your mouth if he so pleases, the wetness was soaking through you, nonetheless. "I"m..." He grits his teeth at you. "Okay you have to stop I don't want to cum in your mouth."

You want to tell him you have all night, you have your whole lives really to fuck, you wanted to give this to him. Instead, you suck in your cheeks sealing him into your warm mouth. Your hand swirls around him spit and precum helping him glide so easily in your palm. You tighten your grip, teeth grazing gently and he twist his hands in your hair pulling you harshly off of him. Spit pulls in a string, dribbling from your mouth, and he almost looks sad to have pushed you off of him, "Did I..."

"No," He pleads. "No, you're so hot ugh so good, too good." He sits up. "I want to be inside of you." In the quiet of his room, you peel off your pants and underwear and climb over him. His hands go to your hips to help you slide down too easily onto his weeping cock. "Does sucking my cock get you that wet?" He groans out burying himself to the hilt inside of you.

You sigh blissfully, "You get me that wet." You roll your hips along his, letting his cock hit every groove within you. With a claw inside his heart, you rock against him, deft fingers finding your clit between bodies. It makes your movements stutter and stumble forcing you to steady yourself with two hands on top of him.

"Bend down." He demands and you're quick to lean over him. He nudges your face gently to the side sucking on the exposed skin of the base of your neck using his other hand to hike up your shirt. You pull up on him, leaning more forward for him letting him thrust himself back into you, his mouth attaching to your breast. You bury your face into his hair as his tongue swirls around the bud, fingers pressing circle into your clit.

You slam a hand into his back wall to work yourself up and down along his cock as he lavishes your breast, your clit. You whimper for him; you squeeze his shoulder blade, the pressure building behind your gut. His teeth nip at your nipple; he licks a path across your sternum to the other breast bobbing along his mouth with every quicken movement of your hips. You're so close and in your haste to cum you shift back letting his whine echo around the room. You don't care as your chase your pleasure, as you grind him against something soft and delicious inside of you. With two hands resting on his thighs, and his thumb working your clit, you cum around his cock, movement so uncoordinated he's moving your body, rolling you onto your back. Your eyes are closed, but you feel the room spinning until a mattress is under you.

He doesn't give you a moment, just shoves your leg upward and against his shoulder to drive his cock in deep. You're still reeling, breathless disorientated, your hip bones groaning while he pushes your other leg perpendicular to your body, your pussy greedily sucking him in tightly. "That's my girl." He looks down to where his cock disappears inside of you. "Look how good you take me." He's slow, methodical, purposeful with his movements letting ever sick wet glide of his cock squelch with every soft gasp past parted lips. "Pussy was made for me, made to take my cum."

You mumble out gibberish, incoherent, the pleasure shooting up through you again. "Eddie." You whine.

"Shh, shh I know." He coos a hand going to your clit. "Gunna fill you up so soon sweet girl. That's what you want right? For me to cum so deep you'll feel me dripping out of you for weeks." You can't find the words to responds as your mouth falls open fingers grasping at his shirt, hips tilting to feel him fuck that spongey part inside your cunt as he presses in on your clit. "Cum for me first sweet girl, love how tight you get when you cum, milks it right out for me."

He leans down then to kiss you finally, stealing the breath from your airless lungs. You're gasping out into his mouth, panting his name like some mantra, your naval gives a tug, toes curling inward. Your throw your head back, lips parted against his sweaty forehead clamping down around him when you cum. It squeezes and gushes around his cock slipping him against your cervix with every quick thrust. It's brutal and unforgiving and soon with one last flutter of your pussy he's pounding in deep spilling inside of you.

His body slacks slightly as he continues to push it in, faint shoves of his twitching cock until there's nothing left. He's kissing the side of your head in sloppy wet movements of his mouth as you rasp against his skin. "You need to stop cumming inside of me Eddie." You tell him.

"You like it." He huffs at you finally pulling out. He takes his place between your thighs hand cupping your cunt to keep his spend safe inside. "Like being claimed."

"It's messy." You remind him. "It's troublesome and risky." He rolls his eyes at you and takes his fingers to shove it in deeper. You slap at his bicep with a laugh. "You need to stop, you freak."

He smirks down at your cunt sucking in his cum coated fingers. "You like it." He takes them out and is quick to shove them past your parted lips. "Come on, taste my hard work, be a good girl." You taste your own pleasure; you taste his too and the sultry broil burns deep in your stomach for the sick act. Your tongue darts out, swirling around his digits as the careless moans exits your throat. "My sick and twisted sweet girl." He slowly removes his fingers wiping the spit off on the bottom of his shirt.

"It's messing up my periods Eddie."

His head whips around at you so fast a strange triumphant gleam in his brown eyes. "Really?" He loses focus seeming to be doing his version of math in his head, he's surprisingly good when he wanted to be. "You're late?" You nodded with a furrow in your brows. "Should we..."

You shove him away laughing too hard at the concern on his face. "I'm not pregnant you lunatic." You gather up your underwear and climb off his bed to waddle to the bathroom.

He scrambles after you. "Well, you don't know for sure." He watches you with sad eyes cleaning up the cum trickling out of you, disappointed he can't keep it all inside. Wasted. He would say.

"I do know for sure." You shake your head unable to stop laughing at this ridiculous notion of letting him actually knock you up. When he doesn't respond you glance up at him, "I was able to get birth control from a clinic without Claudia knowing. I got on it after we had sex the first time." You pull your underwear back up your thighs thankful they had given you an emergency contraceptive after that accident. "But they said it could make me irregular as my body adjust to it."

Eddie frowns, hand coming up to splay along your ribcage the blind intent swirling as he stares down at where his hand touches you in the adoration. "Eddie." You breathe tilting your head to the side.

His fingers trace your empty womb. "I want to be with you forever." He peeks up at you, "I want our little football team."

You smile and cup his cheeks, "You hate sports."

"I don't hate you." He sighs, resigned to your logic. "Figured I would have to marry you if I knocked you up, ya know, honor and all." He chuckles then lets his hands come around your head. "You, and your mom, and Dustin it's so normal. I want normal. I want that pretty little life you sell me on every day." Your brows furrow, "My sweet girl making me cookies, coming home from work, trying to kiss you over a growing belly. Since meeting you, I remember what it is to dream, to want more for myself, for you."

It was a pretty picture. "Is that why you've been..."

"Actually, applying myself? Yes." He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. "Should have never helped you with that goddamn brown sugar, been lovesick ever since."

You edge forward, leaning up to kiss him softly. "Oh, you beautiful fool."

He breathes out of his nose, nudges it against your own. "I know. I'm ...impatient." He pulls back to stare down at you, "So you're saying if I did get you pregnant, you'd marry me?"

You just laugh again and brush past him. "You're ridiculous Eddie Munson." You head towards his kitchen. "I'll consider your unromantic offer once you actually quit smoking. It's bad for the babies."

"I did quit." He leans against the fridge watching you pull out a bottle of water.

You glare at him playfully, "I can taste it on you, smell it on you." You close the fridge and point at his coffee table. "Also, might want to clean up the ashtrays before your girlfriend comes over."

"Those aren't mine." He says quickly then stomps his feet like the child he so badly wanted to have. "Fine ugh, I'll quit for you." He follows you over to his couch, sitting beside you, tucking you under his arm, taking a drink of your, well his, water bottle.

You can't help but smile at him, remember that strange string of question he had asked in this very same house. "I know one more person who might be happier than you if you stuck around forever." He waits for you to keep going. "Dustin."

Eddie gave a joyous gasp. "Our actual first child."

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes.

notes: s'cute. honestly the softest thing I've ever written. first time i think no one was rly that morally grey lmao let me know what ya'll think!!