────────

“You’re needed on set in five!”

Of course this would happen. He finally had his chance where he was all alone with you, sharing a heated moment of hot, sexual tension- all for it to be ruined. It was just his luck. Just when he was moments away from having you on your knees for him. His cock in your warm, wet mouth. How the fuck was he getting cock-blocked on a fucking porn set? Before he could think too hard about it, you had brought him back out of his head.

“We should get back.” You whisper, so close to Eddie that he could feel your breath on his face.

“Yeah.” Eddie agrees, clearing his throat as he tries to compose himself “You’re probably right.”

“Thank you, Eddie.” You say.

“For what, sweetheart?” He asks, looking at you as you bashfully stand beside him.

“I don’t know.” You shrug “Just making me feel safe. It means a lot to me- you being so kind and gentle with me.”

“Of course.” Eddie nods “Like I said, I just want you to have a good time.”

“Well, I’m having a really good time.” You flirt, putting emphasis on what you meant by a ‘good time.’

“Yeah?” Eddie flirts back “I’m not having such a bad time either. Is it pathetic to say that I’m looking forward to being in your mouth?”

He instantly regrets saying it as soon as the words left his mouth.

“Yeah?” You say, looking at him with lust-filled eyes “Can’t say that I’m not kind of excited too. Even though I’m nervous.”

“Hey,” Eddie says, reaching for your hand as he takes it in his- squeezing it affectionately. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. You’re gonna do great.”

“I hope so.” You say, your nerves getting the best of you.

“I know you will.” Eddie reassures you, his hand cupping your chin as he tilts it up- making you look at him. “Just do what feels right, okay?”

“Okay.” You say, letting Eddie’s brown-eyed gaze wash over you.

“Everything is going to be fine. I’m so fucking proud of you for doing this. You’ve been perfect.”

“You really think so?” You ask, looking up at him.

“Fuck, baby. I’ve never been so turned on like this for a scene. You’re doing so good. Whenever you’re ready, we’ll go back out there. You’re gonna kill this part.”

Eddie built up your confidence with his words, making you feel like you were the best co-star that he’s ever worked with. You didn’t know if it was actually true or if this was what he said to all of his co-stars but you would take it. You’d allow yourself to indulge in his flattery. Even though there was a chance that it wasn’t genuine, you were going to let yourself believe that it was, just for a little while.

“Okay.” You say “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

────────

“Alright! Everyone to places! Quiet on set! We are rolling in three….”

Eddie stands opposite of you in the middle of the set as he squeezes your hand for reassurance, giving you a soft smile as you wait for your cue to start.

“You okay?” He mouths, causing you to nod in response.

“…..Two….”

You were seconds away from getting on your knees and performing oral sex on your favorite pornstar. A man that you’d secretly lusted over for years. It was a dream come true but also an impending nightmare if you were to do something wrong and embarrass yourself. There was so much pressure on you. So much going on in your head.

“….One….”

You just wanted to make him feel good the way that he made you feel good. You wanted to repay him for being so sweet to you. You wanted to give him something worthwhile for all that he’s done for you even though he barely knew you. Eddie Munson not only met your expectations but completely surpassed him. You wanted to do something in return. Even if you knew that it wouldn’t be anywhere close to the best blowjob that he’s ever had, you still wanted to try.

“…Action!”

You tried to breathe after you heard your cue to start. Your heart was thumping so hard in your chest that you were certain that Eddie could hear it. Eddie who stood across from you, shirtless. Looking tall and lean and gorgeous. His curls tied back. Eddie who was looking at you as if you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Eddie who-

“You’re in your head again.” He whispers, low enough for only you to hear. “Remember what I said. We can stop whenever. You’re safe with me.”

And hearing him say that again hit home for you. You are safe. Everything was going to be fine.

“I know.” You whisper back “I…I feel safe.”

“Good.” He says, his brown eyes drinking you in. “Fuck, sweetheart. Come over here.”

You don’t hesitate- stepping towards him as his large hands grab at your waist. He guides your body to his own, pulling you so close that your chest was pressed against his. He looks down on you, his eyes full of lust and need.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He says, taking in the way you look. Your hair and makeup accentuating natural beauty that he was so enamored with. You looked soft and touchable. Kissable. You looked so fucking good. Like a goddamn dream.

“Wanna kiss you.” He rasps “That okay?”

“Please.” You say, your eyes flickering down to Eddie’s pink lips.

He wasted no time, immediately going in for the kill as he pressed his lips against yours. Even though you had kissed before, it felt like the first. It felt just as special and passionate and intense as it had the very first time.

His lips move against yours, kissing you greedily as his hands fist the silky pink fabric of your robe. He held you so close that it felt like he was afraid you would disappear.

Your lips slot against his as you tilt your head, deepening the kiss and allowing yourself more of him. You wanted so much more. You wanted all of him. One of his hands remained on your waist as the other snakes up to cup the back of your neck, bringing you closer as he nips at your bottom lip.

Every little noise that he made fueled you, causing you to want to kiss him harder, deeper, more passionately. It fueled a fire within you that wanted to coax more of those sweet sounds from his lips. To know that he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him.

“Christ..” Eddie groans, breaking the kiss as he tries to catch his breath.

Eddie’s forehead stays pressed to yours, both of you breathing hard under the bright lights. His hands haven’t left you- one still tangled in the back of your robe, the other warm at the nape of your neck. He doesn’t pull away.

“Fuck,” he breathes against your mouth. “You’re killing me already.”

You feel how hard he is against your stomach and your face goes warm. You tip your chin up just a little, your voice soft.

“I… I’m ready.”

He meets your gaze, his brown eyes washing over you. “Yeah? Ready for what, sweetheart? Tell me.”

Your fingers curl lightly against his chest. “I…I want your dick. In my mouth. I can’t stop thinking about it. I wanna make you feel good.”

Eddie’s eyes darken. His hips roll forward once, slow and deliberate, letting you feel every inch of him through the fabric.

“Christ, sweetheart. Look at you. All shy and sweet while you’re telling me you want to suck my cock.” His hand slides into your hair, testing the boundaries as he grips it just enough to tilt your head back. “Do you have any idea how fucking hot that is? How hard I’ve been while I’ve been thinking about shoving my dick between these soft lips and watching you take it?”

You swallow, cheeks burning. “I want to make you feel good.”

“Then get on your knees for me,” He murmurs, already guiding you down. His other hand works his pants open with practiced ease. “Open up that pretty mouth, sweetheart. I wanna feel you take it deep for me. Want to watch spit drip down your chin while you try to take every fucking inch. Gonna fuck your throat nice and slow until you’re drooling all over me. How does that sound, baby? Hm?”

He pulls himself free, heavy and flushed, and brushes the head lightly across your lips.

“Go on, angel. Show me how bad you want it.”

You don’t hesitate, opening your mouth as you stick out your tongue- slowly licking the tip of his cock that he had pressed against your lips. You’re met with the slightly salty taste of his precum, your tongue licking over the slit as he groans.

“Fuck, sweetheart…”

You take this as praise, a sign that you’re doing something right. As he looks down on you, you reach up to grab the base of his cock in your hand- leaning forward as you press a kiss to the head with your soft lips.

“Fuck yes…” Eddie breathes out “Kiss it for me, sweet thing. Fuuuck, that’s it. Such a good fucking girl…”

You follow his directions, trailing down his cock as you continue to press feather-light kisses to it- working down his shaft. For Eddie, it was almost too sweet to watch- keeping his eyes on you as you take your time. Giving his dick some much-needed attention.

“It’s so pretty.” You whisper, looking up at him as you begin to slowly pump his cock in your hand. Hearing you compliment his dick only made him harder. Knowing that you liked what you saw was such a fucking turn-on.

“Yeah?” Eddie rasps “You like it?”

“Love it.” You flirt “It’s so big. So hard.”

“Fuck…” He growls “All for you, baby.”

“Did I make you this hard?” You ask.

“God, sweetheart, is that even a question? Been hard for you all morning. Couldn’t help it. Been thinking about you.”

“Yeah?” You reply “What’ve you been thinking about?”

Eddie’s mind was at war with his dick. On one hand, he knew he would cum fast if you kept talking to him like this. If your words kept getting dirtier and dirtier. But, on the other hand, he wanted to tell you just what you did to him.

“You, angel. That pretty face. That perfect fucking body. Your pussy. Fuck…your lips wrapped around me. How good your fucking throat’s gonna feel. Shit…”

“Do you want me to go faster?” You ask, referring to the pace that you were currently stroking him “Am I going too slow?”

“You’re perfect, sweetheart. Do whatever feels right. Whatever makes you comfortable. You can go as slow or as fast as you want.”

Eddie’s support of you was so incredibly sexy. You couldn’t help but get wet for him all over again.

“Hey, sweetheart, can you do something for me though? Please?”

“Yes?” You ask, looking up at him with those pretty eyes to the point where Eddie thought he was going to melt.

“Can you take that off, please?” He asks, eyeing your silk robe “Wanna see you.”

You let go of your grasp on him, reaching down to untie the sash on your robe. You open up the garment, exposing your naked form to him once again as he moans at the sight.

Eddie groans as he watches the silky fabric slide off of your skin and onto the floor beneath you. He was so overwhelmed that he didn’t know where to look first. Your face, your tits, your gorgeous cunt. You looked so fucking good and he could hardly fucking take it.

“Holy shit…” He sighs “You’re so goddamn perfect. Can’t believe you’re about to do this. God, baby, those tits. Play with them for me? Please?”

You obliged, your soft hands reaching for your breasts as you began to fondle them- taking them in your palm as you massage them generously.

“Fuck yeah. Just like that.” Eddie moans, his hand grabbing onto his dick as he begins to stroke it. “Play with your nipples for me, baby. God, you get me so fucking hard.”

You follow his directions as you pinch your sensitive nipples, rolling them between your fingers in a way that causes Eddie’s dick to throb slightly in his hands.

“You’re so goddamn hot.” He rasps “So fucking hot. God, you drive me crazy. Feels like I’m losing my mind.”

“Yeah?” You ask, watching as he slowly strokes himself as he watches you pinch your nipples.

“God yeah.” He answers, flicking his wrist as he pumps his cock “I’m trying to hold it together, sweetheart. T-trying not to…oh fuck…trying to keep my mouth shut so I don’t say- oh god..”

“Say what?” You ask, loving the way that he was starting to unravel for you and you’d barely even touched him.

“Fuck- I’m trying not to tell you how bad I want to fuck your pretty mouth. Trying to be a gentleman here but it’s so hard when you’re...you...and- fuck- you’re perfect.”

You couldn’t explain why but hearing Eddie explain how hard he was trying not to offend or disrespect you only made you hornier for him. Completely worked up.

“You wanna fuck my mouth?” You flirt, batting your eyelashes as you look up at him while you’re on your knees.

“Fuck, sweetheart…” He groans “I do. I want- shit- Want it so bad.”

“Okay.” You answer, your tone low and seductive “Can I take over?”

Eddie lets out a low growl from the back of his throat, removing his hand so that his rough grip was replaced with your soft, gentle one. As soon as you wrap your fingers around it, Eddie can’t help but take notice of how good his cock looked in your hands. How your dainty, delicate hand made it look so much bigger.

“You really have the prettiest dick I’ve ever seen.” You compliment, stroking him up and down with a confidence that Eddie was shocked by.

“Yeah?” He huffs out, hypnotized by the way you were gripping and working up his length. “Fuck…you think it’s pretty, baby?”

“Mhm.” You hum appreciately “It’s so perfect- so big and thick. I love playing with it. I don’t know if I can take it all in my mouth.”

Holy fucking shit…

“God, baby…” Eddie moans “You gonna try for me?”

“Anything for you, Eddie.”

“Sweetheart,” He whimpers, loving the way that you were speaking to him. Getting him so worked up and needy.

You lean forward, pressing another kiss to the tip of Eddie’s dick. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, trying to hold it together but he just about lost his mind at what happened next. Instead of pulling away completely, you open your mouth- taking his tip between your lips as you begin to suck on it. The action causes Eddie to buck his hips involuntarily, jolting them forward as a moan ripped through him.

“Holy fuck!” He gasps out, his mouth falling open as he looks down at you with wide eyes.

He was in your mouth. Jesus fucking Christ, he was in your fucking mouth…

“Shit, baby! Holy- god!”

You take this as a good sign, continuing on as you begin to simultaneously swirl your tongue around the head as you sucked.

“F-fuck,” Eddie moans “You sure you haven’t done this on camera before? Jesus..”

You look up at him, your eyes watching him as you begin to inch your mouth further down his cock.

“Oh shit! Ah!” Eddie exclaims “Fuck, that’s not too much for you? Sweetheart, you don’t have to- oh fuuuck…”

You ignore his words, continuing to take his cock a little further back. The more you took of him, the more wrecked that he was becoming by the second.

“Oh god! Your mouth! Your- fuck- your fucking mouth! Holy fucking shit! You feel so fucking good!”

You took him down as far as you could go, relaxing your throat so that you could take him as deep as possible. You listened to his pants and moans as you pleasured him with your mouth.

“Ha! Oh my god…” Eddie looks down on you “Fuck, you’re….perfect. Oh fuck..”

You inch down further, getting closer and closer to the base of his cock until you finally take him whole. The tip of his cock nudges against the back of your throat as you feel his neatly trimmed thatch of dark curls tickle the tip of your nose.

“H-holy fuck! Oh- oh my fucking god, sweetheart!” Eddie exclaims “Jesus Christ, I can feel the back of your fucking throat. I’m so fucking d-deep…”

Just when Eddie thought that it couldn’t get better, you began to hum- sending the most earth-shattering vibrations through his cock as he gasps.

“Shit!” He whimpers “Oh god! Oh- oh fuck…”

You continue humming, nuzzling your nose into his dark curls at the base of him. Eddie couldn’t help but feel relieved that he had decided to trim that morning.

Eddie’s mouth falls open, his abdominal muscles tightening as he tries and fails to hold in a needy pornographic moan.

“God, you’re fucking unreal, baby!” He pants “So fucking good! Taking me so good!”

The praise fuels you. You loved the way he sounded- so desperate and needy and wrecked and you had barely done anything to him yet. You pull off of him, sliding him out of your mouth as a string of your saliva stretches from the tip of his cock to your open mouth.

“Holy shit, sweetheart!” Eddie moans “You didn’t tell me you could do that.”

To be fair, you didn’t know you could either. You had never been this filthy and messy with anyone else before. There was just something about Eddie that made you this way. So eager and desperate to please.

You hold his spit-soaked cock in your hand, playing with it as you spread your saliva all over it. Up and down. Coating his entire shaft in it.

“F-fuck.” Eddie breathes “So fucking messy, baby. Make a fucking mess of my cock. C’mon.”

His filthy words only spurred you on, taking you to a whole new sense of arousal that you’ve ever experienced before. Before you could even realize what you were doing, you had gathered all of the saliva in your mouth before spitting directly onto his dick- and Eddie? He was a fucking goner.

“Holy shit!” He whimpers “Fuck yes, baby! Fucking spit on it like a fucking whore. Gimme more. C’mon. You can soak me better than that.”

You take this as a challenge, repeating the action again as you spit on his dick one more time- pulling a long drawn out groan from the back of his throat.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, angel. You dirty fucking girl. God, your fucking lips…Fuck, I knew you’d f-fucking ruin me. I can’t fucking take it. You’re so good.”

“Yeah?” You coo “Am I a good girl, Eddie?”

“Fuck, baby…” He growls “You’re so good. Such a good fucking girl. My good girl. Sucking me off like you were made for it. Like your fucking throat was made for me, baby. Christ…”

“Wanna be your good girl, Eddie. Wanna be so good for you.”

“Fuck, sweetheart! You are my good girl. My good girl. You gonna take some more for me? Yeah?” He asks “You gonna show me what else that pretty fucking mouth can do?”

You nod, looking up at him doe-eyed as you open your mouth wide for him- sticking your tongue out patiently. The sight almost causes Eddie to lose it completely.

“Oh fuuuck…” He moans “Fuck, you’re so good. Being so fucking sweet for me, doll face. Gonna give me what I want? Hm?”

Before you could answer, he takes his length in his hand- slapping his cock against your outstretched tongue that was ready and waiting to take him.

“Fuck…you’re…so…good.” Eddie hisses through clenched teeth “Gonna let me fuck this mouth, sweet thing? Gonna let me use you however I want? Hm?”

“Mhm..” You purr, looking up at him through your eyelashes “Use me however you want. I’m all yours.”

“Mmm…that’s right, baby. Mine. All mine.” Eddie growls possessively “Take this fucking cock in your mouth, angel.”

You obey, placing your hand on the base of Eddie’s cock as you continue to stroke him again, loving the way that he bites his bottom lip at the feel of your hand gripping his dick.

“God, your hand feels so good.” He sighs “Fuck, just like that, baby…”

You decide to tease him, using your upper arms to push your tits together as you stroke him slowly with both hands- letting his spit-slick length slide through your closed fists.

“Ah…fuck…so good, sweetheart. Mmm…yes.”

“That feel okay?” You coo, looking at him with flirty eyes.

“Y-yeah, angel. Feels so good. I love the way you play with my cock.” Eddie praises “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

“Gonna put you in my mouth, Eds.” You purr, causing Eddie to melt a little as your sultry voice.

“Mmm, yeah, sweet thing. Put me in your mouth. Open up for me.”

You do as you’re told, opening your mouth wide for him as he takes his dick in his hand- guiding it into your mouth. Before you slide his hard cock between your lips, Eddie’s body stills. He couldn’t help but want to check in with you one more time.

“Are you still okay with this, sweetheart? You good?” He asks you, looking down to make sure that you still wanted this. That you weren’t having second thoughts. Instead of answering right away, you bring yourself closer to his length.

“Mhm.” You mumble, immediately after wrapping your lips around his cock. The vibrations of your mumbles against his dick make Eddie’s knees go weak.

“Shit…” He hisses “That mouth….Christ.”

Your hand grips onto him, holding his cock as you take him deeper into your mouth. You begin to set a rhythm, gliding your lips up and down his hard shaft as you bob your head, using your tongue to trail over the sensitive underside.

“Shit, baby!” Eddie gasps “Just like that!”

You hollow out your cheeks, creating a firm suction around his dick as you concentrate on working his length with your mouth. Above you, Eddie watches as he tries not to fall apart but it was getting increasingly difficult with the way that you were servicing him- coupled with how attracted he was to you and how beautiful you looked on your knees below him.

“Oh s-shit! Ha! Fuck!” He pants, biting down harshly on his bottom lip as you suck him off in a way that he’s never felt before “Where the fuck did you learn that? Jesus fucking Christ….”

You pick up your pace some more, bobbing your head expertly as you stroke what’s not currently in your mouth.

“My god, sweetheart. You’re so fucking good at that.” Eddie whimpers “Fuck, look at you. Your mouth stuffed full of my cock, pretty girl. Oh my god. Fuck yes…god, you’re so fucking pretty. You’re g-gonna make me c-cum if you keep sucking me like that.”

You pull off of him, looking up at him with lust-filled eyes as you use your hand on him.

“Good.” You whisper “I want you to cum.”

“H-holy fuck!” He huffs out desperately “Please, sweetheart. Don’t say that. Can’t fucking t-take it when you s-say shit like that…”

“But I mean it, Eds.” You continue flirtatiously “You did such a good job taking care of me. Want you to feel good too.”

“Baby…” Eddie pleads, looking at you with his chocolate brown eyes “Please…fuck…stop.”

“Why?” You bat your eyelashes, feigning innocence “You don’t like it when I talk to you like that?”

“Sweetheart, that’s not it…” Eddie agonizes, trying to keep himself together “You know that’s not it. I just- I can’t- oh god…”

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut, trying to focus. Trying to hold himself together.

Don’t cum…don’t cum…don’t fucking cum.

It was all becoming too much. Your incredible mouth, your soft hands, your pretty fucking face. He was so lost in you that he didn’t think he could keep himself under control.

“But I wanna tell you how much I want your cum.” You add, driving him even crazier. “How I want you to feel good. How badly I wanna repay you for taking such good care of me. Can I tell you something, Eds?”

You look up as him as you tease his cock, stroking and squeezing the tip- causing his breath to catch.

Eddie nods, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows nervously “Y-yeah.”

Your eyes take over him as you bite your bottom lip seductively. You knew that you had him right where you wanted him. Right on the edge of losing his mind.

“I just wanted you to know…” You trail off, locking eyes with him before finally going in for the kill. “That no one’s ever made me cum as hard as you did.”

Holy fucking shit.

Before Eddie could stop himself, he was climaxing- immediately grabbing his cock in hopes of getting himself under control but it was too late.

“Oh my fucking god!” He roars, his mouth falling open in breathless pants as his abdominal muscles twitch and contract. He began to furiously pump his shaft, shooting thick droplets of cum as he spilled all over your chest- covering your tits in his hot spend.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!” He whimpers helplessly “Oh baby…fuck, baby…Oh my god, yes…yes, yes, yes, yes, yes!””

He was practically sobbing by the time he had finished, his chest covered in a thin sheen of sweat as he tried hard to catch his breath. As he was trying to come down from his orgasm, post-nut clarity hit him hard. He had just came all over you.

“Jesus,” He mutters, his eyes sweeping over the mess that he made all over your bare breasts “Fuck, sweetheart, I’m sorry! I couldn’t fucking- you felt too good and-“

He felt sick to his stomach, immense guilt washing over him. He had never done this before. In all of his years in porn, he’d never cum on a girl's chest like that. At least, not without discussing it first. He had practically just treated you like a disposable cum rag. He felt terrible.

“God,” He beats himself up. “Let me clean you up, sweetheart. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You state, staring down at your cum-covered tits “Can I do it again?”

“What?” Eddie asks, blinking down at you in shock. Did you just say what he thought you said?

“Can I make you cum again?” You repeat “That was so fucking hot, Eds.”

His mouth was agape, practically on the floor.

“You think that’s hot?” He asks, his tone incredulous.

“So hot.” You answer “I’m so turned on right now. So fucking wet.”

“Oh my god, sweetheart.” Eddie gapes “Are you serious?”

“Mhm.” You flirt “So fucking wet for you. Wanna feel?”

Before Eddie could even think to restrain himself, he crouches down and scoops you up- tossing you over his shoulder caveman-style as if you weighed nothing.

“Eddie!” You squeak, his palm coming down hard on your ass as he gives it a firm spank.

He drops you down onto the leather sofa, your back hitting the cushions.

“I want you on your hands and knees for me.” He orders. “Now.”

You obey his request, scrambling to put your body in position before you feel another hard smack against your ass.

“Fuck, look at you.” He coos “You take directions so well, sweetheart. Mmm…stick that ass out. Oh fuuuuck yes.”

You wiggle your ass teasingly as you look over your shoulder as him, looking at him with the hottest ‘fuck me’ eyes.

“You’re such a fucking tease, babe. You dirty little minx.” Eddie babbles. “Look at this sloppy fucking cunt, baby. Yeah, look at you. Bent over and wet for me. Just fucking begging for it, aren’t you?”

He smacks your ass once more before moving his hand to your pussy, feeling how wet you were.

“God, baby.” He growls “All this for me? Your pretty fucking pussy is just aching for me, isn’t she? Bet if I asked nicely, you’d let me stick this big fucking cock inside of your needy little hole and let me fuck you however I want, right?”

“Eddie…” You whimper, your lips pouting as he uses his fingers to spread your wet arousal all over your cunt.

“Answer me, doll face.” He demands "Would you? Would you let me fuck you? Fill up this pussy and make it all mine? You seem to like my cum so much. Maybe I should fuck you full of it, huh?

You moan out in desperation, gripping the couch cushions as Eddie moves his fingers down to your clit.

“You’re so fucking sexy.” He groans “Bent over on all fours and dripping wet for me. God. Your tits covered in my fucking cum. You want more, sweet thing? Yeah? You just wanna be covered in it, don’t you?”

“Y-yes please.” You whine “Want it all over me, Eddie. Use me.”

Eddie’s breath hitches as he hears the dirty words that leave your pretty little mouth.

“Fuck, sweetheart, that filthy mouth. Thought you were gonna be a good girl for me. You want my cum that bad, baby?” Eddie patronizes.

“I do.” You whimper “Want it so bad.”

“Yeah? You’re gonna be a good girl then and take my tongue one more time. Not gonna cum for you until you give me another orgasm. Can you do that for me? Do it and I’ll cum wherever you want me to. Anywhere you want.”

“Fuck, Eddie, please.” You pout.

“Mmm…knew you’d like that, sweet thing. You’re gonna let me eat this pussy one more time. While I do it, I want you to think about where you want my cum.”

As Eddie teases you, he glides his fingers up and down your pussy. Running them up and down your soaked folds as he watches your needy little body react to each touch.

“Would you want it….on you face? Yeah? Want me to cum all over that pretty fucking face? You’d look so cute with it all over you. Your lips, your cheeks, your forehead. Oh fuck. Or maybe you want it in your mouth, huh? Wanna take my fucking load in that warm, wet mouth and swallow it like the good girl I know you are?”

Your toes begin to curl as his fingers inch back down to your needy, swollen clit- rubbing it in tantalizing little circles that had you squeezing your eyes shut.

“Fuck, baby, maybe I’ll take my fucking dick in my hand and jerk it until I spill my fucking cum all over your ass.” He growls, using his other hand to grab and spank your ass cheek “Maybe I’ll be greedy and shoot it up your back as I watch it arch for me. Poke that pretty little ass out for me. Fuck, you look so good, baby. So good for me. Tell me you’re good for me.”

“Y-yes.” You stammer “S-so good for you, Eds. I’m so good for you.”

“Yeah, baby. You are.” Eddie praises “Sooo good for me. The way you suck me off with those lips. You play so innocent, baby. Telling me how nervous you were. Being so shy. The whole time you knew how to suck my cock like a fucking whore. Deepthroating the fuck outta me. Just how I fucking like it. Giving me the best fucking head I’ve ever had.”

The best fucking head that he’s ever had.

You lose control, letting out a long drawn out moan that you had been holding in. You had given him the best head he’s ever had. In all of his years-long career. The best. Better than anyone else.

“Wanna please you.” You whine “Wanna be the best for you.”

“Oh, baby, you are. Best I’ve ever fucking had. Best fucking head. Sweetest fucking pussy. Bet you’d be the best I ever felt if you let me pound your fucking cunt, wouldn’t you? You’d have me so addicted, sweetheart. Already can’t get enough of you. I’d get you in my bed and never let you leave. Fuck, baby, I’d need it all the fucking time, wouldn’t I?”

“It’s all yours.” You gasp “I’m all yours.”

“Yeah? All mine?” He asks “All mine to do whatever I want? Fuck you however I want?”

“Yes!”

“Yeah? Fucking prove it to me.” Eddie demands “Gonna let me eat it? This sweet fucking pussy.”

“Please, Eddie!” You beg “Please, please, please.”

“Fuck, babe.” Eddie smirks, positioning himself in front of you “Love it when you use those manners like a good fucking girl.

You open your mouth to reply before he grabs onto your hips, jerking you back as you let out a surprised squeal- followed by a moan as he buries his face in your cunt. Eating you from behind.

“Oh!” You squeak, looking over your shoulder as you watch him begin to devour you once again- as if he were a man starved.

He closes his eyes for a moment, nuzzling his face into your sopping wet cunt as your mouth falls open. You’d never seen anything more sexy in your life. Your industry crush, obsessed with eating you. Tasting you. Licking every little inch of your needy pussy. He moans into it, the vibrations causing your legs to twitch just a little.

“Fuck.” He mumbles, his mouth deep into the paradise between your legs “You taste so fucking good. Dripping in my fucking mouth. God, your pussy tastes amazing.”

“Yeah?” You whimper, watching as he opens his eyes- flickering his brown doe eyes into you. You felt like you were hot to the touch underneath his stare.

“Mmm…so sweet, baby. Just like you. Sweet fucking girl….sweet fucking pussy. Can’t get enough of you, baby.” He hums.

“Say it again.” You beg “Please.”

“Say what, angel?” Eddie teases “That I can’t get enough of you? Can’t get enough of your pretty pussy. Fuck…just wanna spread her open and taste all of you.”

“Eddie…” You whine “Your mouth feels so good.”

“Yeah, sweetheart? Gonna cum again for me? Gonna be a good girl and give it to me? Bet if I just reach around and play with this sensitive little clit, you’ll fall apart for me, won't you?”

Eddie continues licking up and down your folds, teasing with the tip of his tongue as his fingers reach for your clit, pressing the pad of his middle finger against it as he harshly rubs it- causing you to gasp out.

“Oh fuck!”

“Yeah, baby?” Eddie smirks, pressing a wet kiss against your heat “That’s what I like to hear. Love to hear those pretty fucking moans. Let me hear you, baby. Let me know how good it feels.”

“S-so good, Eddie. So fucking good. Oh my god….”

“Such a needy thing, aren’t you?” He tsks “Just aching to be touched. You need me, don’t you? Need my fingers toying with that clit. Need my tongue fucking into your needy little hole. Say it, baby. Tell me you need me.”

“I-I need you, Eddie.” You stammer “So fucking bad. F-fuck.”

“Yeah, sweetheart. That’s right. You need me to make you feel good. Eating you out the way you fucking deserve. You need someone who knows how to fucking treat you, sweet thing. Someone who can take care of this sexy body.”

Eddie takes his free hand as he grabs a handful of your soft ass, squeezing it.

“This ass…” He grunts in between broad licks of your core. “God, you have a nice ass. So fucking smackable.”

He releases the supple flesh as he cracks his hand down onto it, watching it ripple from his harsh smack.

“Fuck, look at it…” He moans, pressing a kiss to the cheek before he delves back into your cunt- lapping at you mercilessly.

“E-Eddie.” You stutter helplessly “I’m- oh my god…”

“You close?” He mumbles, his tongue delving in and out of your tight hole.

“S-so close.” You confirm, nodding your head as you bite down on your bottom lip.

“God, baby.” Eddie groans “It’s my first time fucking you and I can already tell when you’re gonna come undone for me. Can’t hide it from me, can you? What was that thing you said earlier? That I was…what was it? Gifted?”

That cocky son of a bitch.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” He coos “Isn’t that what you said? That I’m good with my mouth? That true?”

“Yes, Eddie!” You pant “So fucking good!”

“Yeah? Good. Want you falling apart for me. Wanna get you off with my tongue. Want you to cum on my mouth like a good girl. Are you my good girl, sweetness? Fucking prove it to me. Cum on my mouth. C’mon. Fucking give it to me.”

“Eds!” You cry.

“Yeah, baby, I know. So good for me. Give me what I want. Need you to cum for me. Let me have it, angel. Drench my face. You can do it. C’mon.”

The more he encouraged you, the more that he ramped up the speed that he was rubbing your clit with his fingers.

“Shit, Eddie! Ah! Oh fuck!” You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling that tension deep inside of you that signaled that you were getting close to letting go.

“Love the way you say my name, baby. Keep fucking saying my name.” Eddie groans, pressing his fingers a little rougher against your clit.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!”

“That’s it, baby. You’re almost there. Almost there. God, yes!”

A scream erupts from your throat as you begin to cum, your legs shaking as you claw at the couch cushions below you.

“Fuck, yes! Cum for me, sweetheart! Atta fucking girl!” Eddie moans out “Fuck! You look so good! You look so fucking good!”

You left like you left your body for a moment, crying out a string of obscenities as you climaxed hard and fast- your upper body collapsing onto the couch below you as Eddie continued rubbing your clit through your orgasm.

“Good girl!” He praises “Yeah, baby, that’s right! Good fucking girl! Oh my god!”

You continue to whimper helplessly as you experience an intense feeling in your core, strong and urgent before there was a quick release- your arousal once again drenching Eddie’s hand, your inner thighs, and the couch below you.

“Fuck, baby, that’s so hot!” Eddie growls “Fucking squirt for me! Yessss…”

Your body begins to shake, your toes curling in ecstasy as your eyes feel as though they’re going to roll into your skull. The sensation was good- too good as you continued to let go for him.

“Atta fucking girl, baby!” Eddie moans out “Fuck, you are so fucking hot! Squirting on my fingers like that! You’re fucking unbelievable.”

Your body melts into the couch as you start to come down from your high, the cold feeling of the leather cooling your cheek as you try and catch your breath. Above you, Eddie peppers your body in warm, wet kisses.

“Cut!” The director calls out “That was great, you two! Take fifteen and we’ll wrap up the rest of the scene.”

“I’m so fucking proud of you.” He whispers as he kisses up your spine, giving you goosebumps with each brush of his lips. “You did so good for me. Good fucking girl. You cum so fucking pretty for me. Watching that gorgeous body shake for me.”

More kisses to your spine, all over your back, your shoulder blades, your shoulders- all as his fingertips caress your soft skin.

“Feels nice…” You whisper, a blissed out smile on your face as you enjoy his soft lips of your skin.

“Yeah?” Eddie coos “Good. You deserve it, baby. You deserve to be rewarded for how good you are. Taking everything I gave you. Think you’ll have enough energy to finish the scene? We can stop here, angel.”

“No!” You object, trying to sit up before you were ready- your legs feeling like Jell-O.

“Whoa there, sweetheart!” Eddie laughs, trying to get you to lay back down “Just relax for a minute, okay? I’m not going anywhere. Not going back on my promise either.”

You knew that he was referring to letting you make him cum again. After cumming so hard for him, he wanted to reward you by giving you what you wanted. How could he not after you were so good for him?

Eddie beckons over a production assistant, asking them for a towel to help clean you up and a bottle of water. After they returned, Eddie began to carefully wipe you down- cleaning you off as he took care of the mess in-between your legs from your orgasm. Cleaning off his spend from your chest.

“There we go. All cleaned up.” He hums, tossing the towel aside as he reaches for the bottled water, cracking it open before passing it to you. “Water?”

You take it from him, drinking slowly as you gather your strength again. After chugging down at least half of the water, you look over at Eddie. He was watching you with his big brown eyes. Something within them. Something sweet and caring and concerned. It hits you right then just how lucky you were.

Your favorite pornstar had agreed to shoot your first partnered scene with you. He had been nothing but sweet and caring and protective of you the entire time. Looking out for you and making sure that you were okay the entire shoot. You were so unbelievably lucky.

You lean in, pressing a sweet kiss to his stubbly cheek as a thank you. You didn’t know why. It just felt right. It just felt like the thing to do. You didn’t know how to repay him for being so safe and kind to you when he didn’t have to be. When it wasn’t a part of his job to watch over you.

“I hope that was okay.” You say as you pull away “Now that we’re not shooting the scene, I feel-“

Eddie crashes his lips onto yours, nudging his nose with yours in the process. He just wanted to kiss you. Not in a sexual way but in a way that felt real. In an industry where feelings are non-existent, he allowed himself this one thing. He allowed himself to have feelings and let himself get wrapped up in them for a moment. Just one fleeting moment.

He pulls away, opening his eyes to meet yours. But it doesn’t last long. You reconnect your lips onto his as you lean into him, wanting your body close to his. Eddie’s head feels like it’s spinning when you slip your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his as he lets you invade his mouth- kissing him hard enough to take his breath away. He grasps your waist, pushing you back a little bit to disconnect himself.

“Fuck, I want you.” He pants, reaching his hand up to tangle in your hair “Wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Want you too, Eds. I have since I first saw you.”

“Baby…” Eddie groans helplessly “You have no idea how bad I wanna fuck you on this couch. Make you cum over and over for me. Won’t stop until you’re screaming for me.”

“Oh Eddie…” You moan, pressing your tits against him- making him feel your hardened against his chest.

“Fuck, baby girl.” He breathes “You’re gonna have me cumming again before you can even give me head.”

“Don’t cum yet.” You beg “I want your cum in my mouth. Want you to fuck my face.”

“Shit!” Eddie hisses “You want me to cum in your mouth, sweet girl? Fuck, you’re so dirty.”

“Wanna taste you. Want you to fuck my throat.” You whine “Wanna choke on it.”

“Fuck. Okay, baby. Just be patient and I’ll fuck that pretty mouth just how you want it. I’ll-“

“Can’t wait.” You say “Want you now. Right fucking now.”

You grab Eddie’s dick, beginning to jerk his cock with your hand as his mouth falls open in pleasure.

“God, baby…” He gasps “Oh god.”

His head falls back against the sofa as you get back on your hands and knees, your head hovering over his lap as you position his cock- lowering your head as you slide it into your mouth.

“Oh shit!” He hisses, looking down on you as you sink your mouth down into him until you reach the base of him. His mouth falls open as he watches, loving the way you hurriedly swallowed his cock.

You pull off of him, looking up at him lustfully. “Fuck my mouth.” You order “Grab my head. Please.”

Eddie’s eyes widened at how filthy and needy you sounded. He knew that he should wait until everyone was back from break. He knew that he should be good and save all of this hot sexual tension for the scene but he couldn’t help it. He was desperate for you.

“Shit…you’re sure.” He asks.

“Please. Want it so bad, Eds.” You moan “Been waiting for this.”

“God, baby.” He groans “Put it in your mouth again. Gonna fuck that throat just how you want it.”

You obey, immediately putting your mouth back on him as he places his hand on the back of your head- aiding you as you quickly begin to bob your mouth up and down on him.

“Oh yeah..” Eddie groans, feeling the way you open up your throat for him- watching you swallow his length over and over again as you take him deep. “Goddamn! That fucking throat, baby! Jesus…you like taking that fucking dick for me?”

You moan around his cock in response, causing his hips to buck.

“Yeah? Fucking take it then, sweetheart. It’s all yours.”

He grabs a fistful of your hair, using it to yank you up and down his dick as you suck and lick at him- letting him buck his hips up into you to make you take him deeper.

“Fuck yeah…swallow that dick, baby. Fucking…take it. Oh fuck yes…”

He plants his feet firmly onto the floor as he begins to lift his hips, thrusting into your mouth at a pace that has you drooling- hitting the back of your throat to the point of making your mouth water.

“Oh shit!” He pants “Fuck baby, you’re so messy. Can feel your spit on my fucking balls.”

He reaches around to smack your ass, grabbing at it as he angles his hips to fuck your mouth deeper- causing you to choke on him. His hips immediately still, pulling you off of him.

“Shit! You okay? Was that too much?” He worries.

Before you could answer, the director returns to set- catching your hand around Eddie’s cock as you try to catch your breath.

“I see someone’s already started without us.” The director announces, tone pointed as he gives Eddie a look. “I figured that we could save it for the scene. Can I at least have you both standing? It’s a much better shot.”

As the director begins to adjust the camera Eddie narrows his eyes at him, mumbling under his breath. “Fuck your shot.”

This causes you to giggle, shaking your head at him. It only makes him want to kiss you more.

“Alright, sweetheart.” Eddie grins “Should we give them what they want?”

────────

3 Months Later

“Fuck yeah, baby. Take it for me? Oh fuck! Fuck yessss.”

Eddie watches from his couch, his cock gripped tightly in his hand as he furiously strokes himself- his eyes trained on your body on his television scene.

There you were, on your knees in front of him as you swallowed his cock with precision.

“Ohhh god!”

He hears himself moan from the screen- the sounds mixing in with his real-life whimpers as he continues stroking himself to the video.

He watches as he grabs your jaw in his large hand, fucking into your mouth as drool runs down your chin- the wet sounds of your mouth filling his ears.

“So fucking messy, baby. Oh my god…you sloppy fucking girl.”

From where he sat on his couch, he could see the way that you clenched your thighs together. He had seen this video a thousand times since it came out, generously receiving a personal copy from Paul who gifted it to him with a thank you note written in your handwriting. A card that sat propped up on Eddie’s night stand next to his bed.

Eddie was so close. Watching himself on screen as he fucked your mouth, listening to the sounds you made with your mouth full of his dick. He never got sick of it. Not once. He wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up ruining the VHS tape with how often he rewinded and fast-forwarded it to all of his favorite parts.

“That’s right! Take it deep, baby! Fuuuuck yes…”

Eddie stared with wide eyes as he watched the film version of you take his cock as far back as you could go, nuzzling the dark thatch of curls at the base of his cock. On screen, he goes fucking wild.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart! So fucking good! Your mouth is so good!”

What current Eddie wouldn’t give to have your lips wrapped around him again, drooling all over his hard dick as you deepthroated him into next week. His hand squeezed his dick as he watched you work your wet, sloppy mouth on him. Hearing himself whimper on video.

“Sweetheart….Ha! Oh shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck! I’m getting close, baby!”

He watched himself as his lower abdominal muscles twitched, a tell-tale sign that he was on the verge of cumming. From the other side of the screen, he swore every time he watched this part that your eyes darkened with lust.

“Just a little more, baby. You’re so fucking pretty. …god, you’re so….fuck yes! Oh god yeah! Take me deeper! Show me how bad you want this cum, baby! That’s fucking right! Take it!”

Just like the film version of himself, he was right on the edge. Pulsing in his hand as he fucked his fist- wishing desperately that it was your sweet, wet mouth.

“C’mon, baby girl! Doing so fucking good! Take it! Take it…take it…take it! God yessss!”

He listened to himself talk so fucking filthy to you as he thrusted into your open mouth.

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes! Atta fucking girl! Oh my god! I’m…oh god…I’m gonna c-cum, baby! Where do you want it? Tell me where you want it!”

Instead of telling him, the on-screen version of you opens your mouth wide- sticking out your tongue as you wait for him to coat your tongue in.

“Fuck! In your mouth? You want in your mouth, sweet girl? Fuuuck, open wider for me! Stick that fucking tongue out! Yessss….good fucking girl! Oh my god, yes!”

As if on cue, both versions of him begin to cum- shooting thick spurts of hot spend as they both orgasm. Hips bucking, abs tensing, eyes squeezing shut as they both whimper uncontrollably.

There was only one difference between past Eddie and current. Past Eddie was cumming in your open mouth while current Eddie was cumming in his fist, coating his lower stomach in his own mess. He laid his head back onto the couch as he listened to the film version of himself praise you.

“Fuck, sweetheart! Look at you…fucking swallow my cum. That’s my girl. Take it all. It’s all yours, sweet thing. All for you.”

Eddie could barely keep his eyes open as he tilted his head up to watch you lick up the length of his dick, making sure to get every drop of his spend into your mouth- not wanting to waste a single drop.

“Fuck, sweet thing, does that cum taste good for you? Yeah? Fucking tell me, angel.”

“You taste so good, Eddie. So good.”

“Jesus Christ, I can’t get enough of you. Look at you. Greedy fucking girl. Keep looking at me like that and you’re gonna get me hard again.”

“Mmm..Want you hard again for me. Love the way you taste…”

“Fuck, you’re so hot. I-“

On-screen Eddie is cut off by the shrill sound of his wall phone, informing him that someone was calling him. Again.

Eddie groans, reaching for his discarded shirt that was draped across the back of his couch- using it to clean himself up before shoving himself back into his pants.

He lets out a groan as he gets off of the sofa, carrying himself over to where his phone rang- picking it up as he cradles it between his ear and his shoulder.

“Munson.” He mutters, waiting to hear who was on the other side of the line. His ears were filled with the voice of someone he hadn’t heard from since his retirement from the porn industry. A voice he knew all too well.

“Hey kid. Long time no see.”

────────

“That’s right, sweetheart. Fuck, you’re such a good girl. Keep rubbing it for me.”

You let Eddie’s raspy voice fill your ears as you rub your clit in slow circles, obeying his orders as he watches.

“That’s it, angel. Thaaaat’s it. You’re so fucking hot, you know that? Mmm…Yeah, I bet you do know that, don’t you? Of course you do, sweetheart. This tight fucking body. This pretty….fucking…pussy. And you’re rubbing it all for me. Fuck….”

You let out a whimper, it all becoming so heated while you watch the man that you have fantasized about for so long play with your boobs. Touching, squeezing, kneading them.

“Eddie…” You whine, watching him smirk down at you.

“Don’t worry, sweet thing.” He flirts “Just getting you warmed up. Getting this pussy nice and wet for me before I bury my face in it. Can’t wait to taste you, baby. Bet you taste fucking sweet, don’t you?”

You don’t know what it was that compelled you to but you nodded. You wanted him to be right. You wanted to be everything that he expected you to be- and more. You wanted to please him. You wanted him just as addicted to you as you were to him.

“Finger yourself.” He growls, staring at you before bringing his gaze down to your cunt that was growing wetter and sloppier by the second. His dirty encouragements turning you on more and more. “C’mon baby. I wanna see you stretch that tight little pussy out before I fucking eat it, sweetheart. Want you stuffed full while I watch you.”

You obey, looking into Eddie’s eyes as you ran your fingertips from your clit and down through your slick folds, collecting your wet arousal. You slowly insert two fingers into your soaking cunt, pushing them in as Eddie watches. Your breathing hitches as Eddie groans, roughly pinching your nipples between the pads of his forefingers and thumbs.

“Shit..” He hisses “Good girl. Go deeper for me, sweetheart. Show me how you like it.”

You felt like you were in a trance, watching him play with your tits as you obeyed his every word. You slide your fingers out before slowly reinserting them, pushing them in deep enough to reach your knuckles. You begin to curl the tips of your fingers, causing them to brush up against your sweet spot as you gasp.

“Oh my god…” You moan out.

“Mmm…yes.” Eddie replies, his eyes trained on your dripping cunt as he continues playing with your boobs. “Such a pretty fucking pussy. Love seeing you take those fingers nice and deep. Bet you’re thinking about my dick right now, aren’t you? About how much deeper that I could fuck it into you. How you’d drench my fucking cock. Yeah? S’that what’s going on in that head of yours, angel?”

You let out a whine, picking up the pace with your fingers as you fuck your needy hole for him. Anything for him.

“God, you’d get my dick so fucking messy, wouldn’t you, sweetheart? Just like you’re making this couch. Fuck, look at you. Soaking the fuck out of the cushions, baby” He tsks.

You look down, your face heating up in embarrassment as you realize that he was right. Your arousal was gushing so much around your fingers that it was dripping down your sex and onto the couch beneath you.

“Fuck, baby, don’t be embarrassed.” Eddie pleads, noticing how bashful you had become all of a sudden “I love it. God, I fucking love it. Get it all messy, baby. All for me. That gorgeous cunt. My god. Sloppy fucking girl…”

Your body can’t help but respond, arching your back as you fuck yourself faster, deeper, harder. You needed more. Your fingers weren’t quite enough.

“Fuck, baby. You gonna cum?” Eddie asks, feeling the way that your chest rose and fell in his hands as your breathing picked up. You nod helplessly as you keep going, still trying to reach that spot.

“‘I’m almost there.” You pant, staring at Eddie- and there was so much to stare at. His gorgeous face, his wild mane tied back in that low bun, his beautiful brown eyes, his lean body that was littered with dark tattoos, the happy trail that descended into his jeans. He was a fucking dream.

“Yeah? What can I do to get you there, angel?” He hums “Tell me what you need.”

“Need you to fill me up. I want…fuck…I want your fingers.” You pleads, eyes lust-blown and hungry.

“Yeah, sweet girl?” He coos “You want my fingers stretching you open? That what you want?”

“Yes.” You squeak “Please?”

“Okay, baby.” He smirks “Put your legs up. Let’s give them a fucking show.”

Eddie helps maneuver your legs into the position that he wanted, your feet up onto the couch with your legs spread open wide- giving the camera the perfect view of your sex.

“Fuck, look at her,” Eddie says, using his right hand to touch you- running his rough, calloused fingers along your heat “She’s fucking aching for me, isn’t she? You’ve got the prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen, baby. So goddamn gorgeous.”

His praise only serves to get you wetter. God, you were desperate. Any little thing that Eddie said had you wanting more. Wanting to hear him call you beautiful. Wanting to hear him tell you over and over again that your pussy was the prettiest he had ever seen. You wanted to be perfect for him- so fucking perfect.

Just when you were getting lost in your head over thoughts of him, you felt a sudden sting against your core- causing you to gasp. Eddie immediately follows it up by placing his fingers on your clit and rubbing it. He had just spanked your clit.

“Sorry,” He winces “Was that too much?”

“No!” You beg, bucking your hips “Again. Do it again.”

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat as he watches you become needy and desperate under his fingertips. It was so…fucking…hot.

“Oh, you like that?” He growls “You like it when I spank your pussy? Yeah?”

His hand comes down on it again, causing you to squeal before he places his fingers back onto your clit again to rub it soothingly. The action had your eyes rolling into the back of your head. Eddie watched, his cock reacting by growing even harder beneath his jeans.

“God, you’re a little freak.” He teases “You gonna be my little freak, baby? You gonna take my fingers, hm? You gonna be a good girl and take what I give you?”

“Yes.” You breathe “Yes, Eddie. Wanna be your good girl. Wanna be so good for you.”

And that almost does it for him. He could’ve came right there in his pants. You could’ve ruined his reputation of being one of the longest-lasting guys in porn and he wouldn’t have even fucking cared. Right now, all he cared about was you. Not his reputation, not the cameras, not everyone watching. You.

“Damn right.” He groans “You’re gonna be my good girl. You know why? ‘Cause good girls get rewarded. Good girls get my fingers. Good girls get to have my dick in their fucking mouth after I’m done making them come. You’re gonna be my good girl, baby. All for me. Right, sweetheart? You gonna be sweet for me?”

“Yes, daddy.” You squeak out. The filter between your brain and your mouth completely disappearing. You had just called him daddy.

And Eddie? He was fucking rock hard.

He had never really had a daddy kink. He wasn’t repulsed by it but it just never really did anything for him. Until now. Until the nickname rolled off of your lips- hot and heavy as his cock began to ache.

“Fuck!” Eddie growls “Say it again.”

“Yes, daddy.” You repeat. You were rewarded with another firm slap to your clit.

“You’re so lucky that this is an oral flick.” Eddie states “Because I’d have you bent over this fucking couch right now fucking pounding you. But that’s okay. Because I get to play with this pussy however I want. However daddy fucking wants, right? Yeah? And you’re gonna take it, sweetheart. Like the sweet girl you are.”

“I want it.” You moan out “Wanna take it for you. Let me have it? Please?”

Eddie Munson had fucked way more girls than he could count. The number of orgasms that he has given were very well into the hundreds. He’s had a few good fucks during his time but not like this- nothing like this. This was sexual fucking napalm. He was fucking aching for you. Practically at your fucking mercy and he wasn’t even inside of you. He had never felt a connection more intense than what he was having with you. He didn’t think that he ever will again. This was a once-in a-lifetime kind of fuck.

“Fuck, sweetheart.” He breathes “You can have all of it, good girl. Fuck, I’m all yours, princess. You want me? You want my fingers?”

“Fuck, Eddie, yes!” You moan out, still fingering yourself desperately to his voice. You were so close but it wasn’t enough. You needed him.

“Let me take over, angel.” He orders “Gonna make you feel so good.”

You hastily obey, removing your soaked fingers from your sex as Eddie watches- his eyes practically roll in sheer arousal when he sees how drenched your fingers are. Coated entirely in you. The next thing he says comes straight from his dick and not his head. He was past thinking straight at this point.

“Put them in my mouth.” He growls.

“What?” You ask, a little confused.

“Put your fucking fingers in my mouth. Wanna fuckin’ taste you, c’mon.” He grabs your hand, bringing it to his mouth as he wraps his lips around your wet digits. His mouth was warm and wet as he swirls his tongue around your fingers, sucking gratefully as he stared into your eyes- indulging in the way you tasted on his tongue. The sight of it was so fucking hot that you could’ve blacked out.

He hums around your fingers, sending a sensation to your core that had you squirming. Then he began sucking on your fingers and you let out a shameless moan that caused the corners of his full mouth to curl into a hint of a smirk. But he didn’t stop. Not until he could no longer taste you on your fingers. Once he was satisfied that he had sucked off every trace of your taste, he slowly pulled your fingers out of his mouth with a satisfying pop.

“Shit, angel.” He hums “I was right. You are sweet. Best fucking pussy I’ve ever tasted. Fuck, you’re gonna kill me.”

Best pussy he’s ever tasted. You could officially die happy now. You were the best pussy that Eddie “The Freak” Munson has ever tasted and he hadn’t even gone down on you yet.

“Goddamn, you’re wet.” He adds, using his hand again to run his fingers up and down your slit- collecting your arousal as he spreads it all over your cunt. “So fucking slippery, baby. Ready for my fingers?”

“Please, Eds.” You whine “Please, please, please…”

“Fuck, sweetheart, okay. Needy fucking girl…” He teases.

You open your mouth to protest but you were quickly cut off by the moan that left your lips instead as Eddie inserted one long digit into your warm, wet cunt.

“Oh fuck…” You mewl, mouth dropping open as Eddie uses his finger to stroke your needy walls.

“Holy shit, babe. So fucking tight. Jesus Christ…” He replies “And that’s only one finger, baby. I haven’t even given you the rest yet.”

“Please, Eddie. Give me more. I want more.” You beg.

“More? Baby, I don’t know if I can fit another one in there. You’re so goddamn tight….and wet. Holy fucking- god.” He gapes, watching you take what little bit that he gave you.

“I can take it.” You plead “I promise. I need you, Eddie. Need you so bad.”

“Yeah, sweet thing? You need me? You need me to get off?”

“Yes, fuck. Please, Eddie. Been wanting this.”

“Oh yeah, sweetness? You’ve been wanting this? Been wanting me? Been wanting me to fuck you full and make you cum all over my fingers? S’that what you wanted?”

You nod so helplessly, your face already cock-drunk and your body already desperate.

“Yes.” You reply “I need you. Please, Eds. Need you to make me feel good. Need-“

You gasp loudly as he shoves another finger inside of you, stretching you out so full of him that you were completely consumed with him. All you cared about was him.

“That good? S’That what you were begging for?” He chuckles darkly.

“Oh shit! Oh…oh my god!” You hiccup as he begins to curl his fingers inside of you. Deep enough to reach that soft spot inside of you that caused your vision to blur and your muscle to spasm in that delicious feeling of ecstasy.

“There she is…” Eddie smirks “That where you were trying to reach, sweetheart? That the spot? Yeah? Answer me.”

“Yes!” You pant “Yes, yes, yes!”

“Good.” He hums “You knew daddy would find it, didn’t you? That’s why you wanted my fingers so bad. Had to beg for it like a needy little slut. But you’re not a slut. No, you’re a good girl. My good girl. And you’re gonna take it until you cum.”

“Oh- that…ha! That feels-“ You could feel your orgasm coming. You could barely focus. You felt a pleasure so other-worldly that you were sure you were going to cum hard enough to have an out-of-body experience.

“That’s it, baby.” Eddie encourages “Cum on my fingers. C’mon. You can fucking do it, angel. You’re clenching so tight. You’re so close.”

You were moaning uncontrollably to the point where you suddenly stopped making noise completely, your mouth falling open in a silence scream as your chest heaved. Your legs began to shake as you felt the most intense sense of pleasure and relief wash over your entire body. Your eyes staring up at the ceiling as you came hard. Your mouth dry from your screams as you try to catch your breath. For a moment, you completely forgot where you were. Just basking in the post-orgasmic bliss until Eddie’s voice pierces through.

“Holy fucking shit!” He exclaims “Did you just-“

Your body tenses up, sensing that something was wrong. You sit up from where your body had collapsed against the back of the couch. That’s when you see it- Eddie’s wrist was drenched and wet. He was looking at you with wide eyes. The sofa cushions were also soaked. You were fucking mortified. Did you just fucking squirt all over Eddie Munson?

“Shit!” You panic “I- I’ve never done that before. I didn’t even know that I could- Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

But Eddie just stares at you, his pupils blown wide. You wanted to bury yourself into the couch and disappear. You were going to die of fucking embarrassment. You open your mouth to apologize once again but you were quickly yanked down roughly to the edge of the couch, legs hastily thrown over Eddie’s shoulders as he growls hungrily- lowering his face into your cunt until he buries himself in it.

You squeal out in surprise, taken aback by his roughness and the sensitivity of your pussy after orgasming- and apparently squirting- all over your scene partner.

“Eddie!” You gasp out as he attacks your clit, sucking on it if roughly as you squirm “Fuck! Oh my god!”

He stops momentarily, his face already wet and coated in your release as he stares at you with hungry eyes.

“You…” he pants “Are so fucking hot! You drive me crazy! Wanna bury my fucking face in you. Is that okay?”

“Yes.” You whimper.

“Fuck, baby, I am so fucking hard for you right now. Watching you fucking squirt like that? Jesus Christ, I was about to fucking lose it.”

“Yeah?” You coo, looking down at Eddie as he squeezes your thighs in his hands.

“God, angel. You don’t know what you fucking do to me. Let me show you how bad I fucking want you. Scoot up onto the couch and spread your legs nice and wide for me?”

He didn’t have to tell you twice. You removed your legs from his shoulder, backing up onto the couch until you hit the backrest. As Eddie shifted more comfortably onto his knees, you instinctively spread your legs nice and wide- giving him another breathtaking view of your dripping wet sex.

“Fuuuuck, baby..” Eddie breathes, leaning down to press a soft, gentle kiss to your sensitive clit- making you squirm. “Be a good girl and spread her open for me, yeah?”

You don’t even question it, reaching down between your legs to part yourself open with your fingers.

“Fuck, there she is. So fucking pretty, sweetheart. Almost as pretty as you.” He flirts.

Eddie then collects all of the saliva in his mouth, leaning in to spit directly onto your hot cunt and it fueled something inside of you that made you feel feral and uncontrollable. You let out the most unintentionally pornographic moan as he attached his thumb to your clit, massaging roughly enough to have you panting in seconds.

“Goddamn, you are so gorgeous.” Eddie sighs, watching you take his assault onto your clit “My god. Been thinking about having you just like this since I first saw you. Wanted my face buried in-between these fucking thighs, baby.”

“Then do it, Munson.” You tease.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow, looking at you as if you had no idea what you were asking for.

“Oh, you want this, baby?” He growls “Don’t fucking worry, Princess. You can have it. You can have me. Gonna ruin you for anyone else, angel. Gonna make sure no one’s ever gonna eat your pussy out better than me.”

Before you can process his promises that were filled with possession, he brings his head down to your core- attaching his lips to your clit as he sucked on it. Immediate pleasure sends a jolt through your body, causing your hips to buck into his face. Eddie groans at your reaction, your eagerness as he sucked on your sensitive little button. He took it as praise, sucking on it harder as you squeal.

“Fuck, Eddie!” You pant. His eyes flicker to yours, watching how dark and blissed out they were becoming and he had barely even started with you. He takes things further, grazing your clit with his teeth as you gasp at the sensation. He begins to alternate his actions from gentle to rough as he serviced your clit, paying extra attention to the way you reacted to each lick, suck, and kiss that he left upon it. Each one caused your body to squirm so deliciously underneath him.

“She sensitive, baby? Yeah?” He asks, mumbling against your cunt as he watches you squirm. You nod as you watch him flick his tongue against your clit before expertly rolling it against the bundle of nerves.

You gasp at the feeling, never having experienced anyone devouring you the way that he was. You didn’t even know that he could do that with his tongue but it was leaving you breathless as you reached for his head, trying to pull him closer.

“That’s right, baby.” He growls “Put it in my face. Fuuuck yes!”

You shamelessly buck your hips, shoving your cunt into his face as he smirks- letting you grind against his tongue. It was driving him wild. How much you wanted him. How much you yearned for his touch.

“God yeah,” He groans “That’s it. Make a mess of my face, sweetheart.”

He stuck his tongue out farther for you, giving you more to hump against as you rubbed your clit on it- desperately seeking out your pleasure. Your next orgasm. His tongue felt better than anything you’ve ever felt before. You could only imagine what his dick must feel like. No wonder all of the girls he had worked with previously had lost their mind. He was even more talented than you realized.

“Oh my god!” You moan out “Your tongue…”

“Mmm…what about it, baby?” He rasps as he pulls away from you momentarily. Only for a moment but your hips were chasing after his mouth as soon as they left you.

“Fuck!” You pant “Please don’t stop! Feels so good…”

“You want more, sweet thing? Grinding on my face isn’t enough for you?” He teases, his lips wet and glossed up with your arousal.

“I need you…” You whine “I need-“

Before you could continue to beg any further, Eddie grabs ahold of your legs again- grabbing the back of your knees as he yanks you down towards the end of the couch. Your lower body arches up as he hitches your legs over his shoulders, bringing you closer to him as he buries his face in your pussy- latching onto it with a rough, insatiable fervor as he works his tongue against you again.

“Fuck, Eddie!” You scream “Oh fuck! Oh my-“

The words die in your throat and are quickly replaced by high pitched desperate whines as Eddie takes your clit back in his mouth, humming against it in a way that sends nearly earth-shattering vibrations through your body.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!” You cry out, panting and desperate as you feel another high ramping up. Eddie can sense your pending orgasm, taking things up a notch as he begins to nuzzle his face into your cunt for extra friction. Your mouth drops open in ecstasy as your hands frantically search for something to grab onto.

You settle for one hand grasping the couch cushion beneath you as the other one grabs onto a handful of his curls at the crown of his head. You were still half-suspended in the air with your legs over his shoulders as they began to shake, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Fuck, Eddie!” You cry out “I’m- oh fuck, I’m c-cumming!”

And Eddie couldn’t help himself. He couldn’t stop. He was a man possessed as he continued to eat you out through your second orgasm, reveling in your screams of pleasure as you chant his name like he was a fucking god.

“Eddie! Oh my god, Eddie! Holy shit!” You scream out and he swore his name never sounds so fucking good. Not as good as the way that it was rolling off your lips as you orgasmed. Your cunt still on his mouth as you rolled your hips, riding that blessed afterwave. That’s when you went completely limp.

“Cut!”

You were on cloud nine and completely blissed out when the director called for everyone to take thirty. You were practically floating. Soft and pliant and boneless as Eddie carefully removed your legs from over his shoulders. He supported your lower body as he maneuvered you onto the couch so that you were laying down fully- completely nude but you didn’t care. You could be lying naked in the middle of nowhere and you wouldn’t give a damn. Not when you were feeling like you were in outer space.

“Earth to sweetheart?” Eddie whispers, his face hovering over yours as he stays kneeling in front of the couch “Doing alright?”

“Yeah…” You reply, your voice tired and soft “I feel…fuck, that was amazing.”

Eddie couldn’t help but let out a laugh at the cute little grin that spreads across your face.

“Yeah?” He asks “Was it okay for you?”

“Okay?” You retort “That was….wow!”

“Well, I’m glad that I could meet your expectations.” He chuckles, reaching up to carefully brush a strand of hair away from your face.

“Are you kidding? That surpassed my expectations.” You admit “You just about gave me an exorcism.”

“An exorcism, huh?” Eddie laughed “That’s also a new one for me.”

“Yeah?” You say “Don’t forget to add it to your resumé after this.”

You went silent for a moment before adding “I don’t know how I’m gonna top that.”

“Hey,” Eddie whispers, meeting your eyes “Don’t worry about that. It’ll be fine”

“Yeah but I wanna return the favor. I want it to be good for you too.” You admit “After that, I feel like I owe you.”

“Sweetheart, sex isn’t transactional.” Eddie explains before stopping “I mean…besides the fact that we get paid to do this for a living. But what I’m saying is that you don’t owe me anything. I just want you to have a good time, okay?”

And how could you argue with that when he was making you feel so safe and comfortable and….good? Really fucking good.

“Okay.” You agree.

“Good.” He grins “Now let’s get you off this couch and cleaned up.”

────────

Eddie was alone in one of the spare dressing rooms, drinking from a bottle of water when his manager walked in. At first, Paul doesn’t say a word. He just saunters over to the small sofa that was in the middle of the room before sinking down on it, looking at Eddie with a shit-eating-grin.

“What?” Eddie asks, taking in the expression on Paul’s cocky face.

“I told you so.” Paul speaks, his voice laced with a tone of confidence “Didn’t I tell you, kid?”

“Tell me what?” Eddie questions, still waiting to be clued in.

“That this girl wasn’t like anyone you’ve ever worked with before. You didn’t wanna believe me at first, did you?” Paul grins “Kid, I’ve never seen you so into a scene before. You and that girl….I don’t know what’s going on there but there’s something. You’ve got the hots for her.”

“I barely know her.” Eddie tries to defend himself but he knew it was no use, not really. Not when everything Paul was saying was true. He was so into you. Ridiculously into you.

“Could’ve fooled me with the way you were going to town on her, kid.” Paul laughs “So, when’s the wedding?”

Eddie takes the cap from his water bottle and chucks it at his manager.

“Very funny, asshole.” He quips, rolling his eyes.

“Look, man, I’m just fucking with you. You know, it’s actually nice seeing you enjoy yourself. And, boy, were you enjoying yourself.” Paul teases.

“Jesus Christ…”

“You know what this means, right?” Paul asks “The company is gonna want you to renew your contract. They’re gonna want you to work with her again. Eds, we’re gonna need to lock this down.”

“I’m not gonna re-sign, Paul.” Eddie drops “When I’m done, I’m done. No more.”

“What?” Paul exclaims “After all that out there? You’re still gonna walk away?”

“I mean, that was always the plan. Even before her.” Eddie answers, picking at the label on his bottle of water.

“You’re seriously still going to quit?” Paul asks “When you’re about to skyrocket even bigger when this scene goes up online? You do realize that you have the potential to make twice- hell, even three times what you’re making right now!”

“Still doesn’t change anything.” Eddie answers “It’s not about the money anymore, Paul.”

“Then what is it about, kid?”

“It’s….I don’t know. I guess I just want to feel something again for someone, you know? Not just emotionless fucking all the time. I just want to feel a connection to someone.”

Eddie felt like he was explaining something complicated and completely unfathomable. Something as difficult as a paradoxical conundrum. Sex workers didn’t usually talk about shit like this. Feelings and emotions and connection. So, how did he expect Paul to relate to anything he was trying to convey?

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m ready to hang it up. I’m ready to go back to living a normal life. I wanna fucking go out and meet someone and do the whole dating type shit. Maybe have a girlfriend? I don’t fucking know…” He continues “But I can’t fucking do that when I’m doing porn for a living.”

“Okay.” Paul nods “I get that. I guess things can get messy trying to have a relationship when you’re still in the industry. Jealousy and all that.”

“Exactly.” Eddie agrees.

“But that girl…” Paul continues “You like her?”

“I mean…she’s gorgeous.” He admits “And sweet and…honestly, too fucking good for this industry.”

“So, why not her?” Paul asks “You don’t wanna date her?”

“Are you kidding?” Eddie replies “Of course I would. She’s perfect. I just….like you said, she’s not going to stay small for long. She’s gonna end up getting big after this. I mean, fucking look at her. She’s gonna be offered gigs left and right. Her company’s gonna want her to do more stuff with other porn guys. She’s gonna forget about me by the end of next week. There’s no room for feelings in porn.”

“Eh, I don’t think she’s gonna forget about you after what you just did to her out there.” Paul laughs “But I get where you’re coming from. Anyways, should we head back to set? I’m sure your bride is eagerly awaiting your return.”

“Shut the fuck up, Paul….”

“Alright, alright.” Paul continues “I’m only joking…mostly.”

────────

Eddie peeks into your dressing room, standing in the doorway as he watches you- bending over at the waist and you lean in towards the mirror. You were touching up your makeup, making sure that you looked presentable again for the camera before stepping out to finish the scene. The part that you were the most nervous about; giving him a blowjob.

As you fluff your hair, trying to smooth it down and fix it after two mind-blowing orgasms- you catch his reflection in the mirror. Standing there as he admired you. Taking in how you were still naked underneath your short silk robe. If you had bent down just a little bit further, he could see your pussy. Completely on display and available for him to walk up to you and jam his cock inside of you, fucking you mercilessly against the hair and makeup vanity. Instead, he attempts to control himself. Just a little bit longer. He knew that he would be in your mouth soon.

“Hi.” You smile, turning around in his direction as you lean your back against the vanity- taking in the sight of him. He was still shirtless, causing you to try really fucking hard to keep your eyes on him and not his body. But he noticed. Of course he does.

“Hi.” He replies, a smirk tugging at his lips “Doing okay?”

“Yeah.” You nod, trying to control your beating heart. Goddamn, did he have an effect on you. “I’m good. You?”

“Fine.” He grins, looking you up and down as he licks his lips- taking it all in. “Never been better actually. You know, considering that I just ate out one of the prettiest women in porn. Actually wait, scratch that. One of the prettiest women ever.”

The admission causes your face to heat up.

“You know, you already made me orgasm twice. You don’t have to keep flattering me.” You joke, ducking your head. You felt like you were on the verge of melting completely if you kept looking at him.

“Hmm…I don’t know.” He replies “I feel like my job isn’t done yet. You know, I might just have to go for a third time. Just to be safe.”

Your heart was officially skipping beats at his oh-so-casual comment about making you cum a third time.

“As much as I’d like that,” You continue “I still have to return the favor. Which, if I’m being honest, I’m really nervous about.”

Eddie’s heart melts a little at your nervousness. It was a breath of fresh air compared to past porn girls who kind of just shoved him into their mouths and did their thing. He felt kind of flattered that going down on him was making you so flustered.

“Sweetheart, I already told you, there’s nothing to worry about.” He explains “You’re gonna do just fine. Like I said, I’m not-“

“Picky. Yeah, I know.” You cut him off “But I still want it to be good for you. I just….can you give me some tips? Like…what to do?”

Eddie could’ve cum right then and there. Just from hearing you be so eager and needy to please him.

“You want me to, like, coach you?” He asks, trying to stifle out a groan. Fuck, this was so hot…

“Yeah.” You nod “That would…actually be really helpful. You know, like, practice. Before I go out there and make a fool of myself in front of everyone.”

“You…wanna practice?” He asks “On me? Right now?”

Holy shit.

“Yeah.” You shrug “I mean, why not? I’m going to do it anyway. Getting some pointers from you would definitely help.”

“O-okay.” Eddie stammers “Yeah, sure. Whatever you want, sweetheart. What do you want me to-“

“What do you like?” You ask, jumping straight in “What, like, turns you on? Do you like to be stroked while you’re getting a blowjob? Do you like it when girls play with your balls? Do you-“

“Whoa, whoa. Hold on, sweetheart.” Eddie practically pants, holding up a hand in signal for you to stop “Just…hold on a sec. My brain is literally going fucking crazy right now hearing you say that.”

“I’m sorry!” You immediately begin to apologize “Did I-“

“No, baby!” Eddie shakes his head “No, no, no! You just…fuck. You’re just so hot that I’m gonna blow my fucking load in my pants before I even get the chance to be in your mouth and I- fuck, I really wanna be in your mouth, sweetheart. I-“

Before he could process it, you had walked up to him- pressing your lips against his in a bruising, hot kiss that he immediately melted into. God, you were going to be the death of him.

He kisses you back with fervor and need as your tongue slips into his mouth, battling against his as he grabs two handfuls of your silky robe- yanking you closer to him. Your hands encircle around his neck as you kiss him harder, as if you were trying to steal the air from his very lungs and Eddie? He didn’t fucking care. He’d fucking give it to you if he could. He’d give you fucking anything. He was putty in your hands.

Speaking of his hands, they were everywhere. Your hips, your thighs, buried in your hair, running up and down your back, grabbing your ass. He wanted you so bad. So, so bad.

“Fuck…” He moans against your lips, fighting for his last shred of self-control in order to prevent himself from picking you up and fucking you on whatever the nearest surface was. He didn’t care what it was. He needed you. So, when you pulled away from the kiss abruptly, he had to stop himself from groaning out in sexual frustration.

“Eddie?” You ask, your sweet voice whispering out his name in a way that had him wrecked.

“Yeah, baby?” He breathes out, realizing that as long as you kept saying his name like that, he would risk it all.

“Want you in my mouth.” You plead “Wanna make you feel good. Can I?”

And Eddie? He was fucking goo. A puddle of fucking goo for you as he tried not to fucking melt into the floor at how needy you were. How nicely you were asking for him. How could he fucking say no?

“Fuck, baby.” He moans “You wanna get on your knees for me? Right now?”

“Please?” You whisper, looking at him with those eyes.

Those. Fucking. Eyes.

“You’re gonna fucking kill me, sweetheart.” He pants “Fuck…”

“Please?” You continue “Can I?”

This right here was hotter than any fucking sex that Eddie had ever had. The tension, the arousal, the spark, the fucking chemistry. It was so fucking good. Too fucking good.

“Okay.” He nods eagerly “Okay, sweet girl. Whatever you…fuck…Whatever you want. I’m yours.”

And those two words were all that you needed to fuel you.

I’m yours.

Your hand immediately flies down to his groin, taking a firm grasp of his hardened cock through his black jeans as you squeeze it- causing him to let out a sound that was a combination of a gasp and a desperate groan.

“Shit, baby.” He breathes out, his mind malfunctioning at the feel of your hand against him- right where he needed you most “Feels so fucking good…”

“Eddie, you’re so big…” You flirt, continuing to palm him through his jeans and, goddammit, how was he supposed to control himself when you say shit like that?

“Yeah, baby?” He moans “You like that?”

“Mhm.” You flirt “Don’t know if I can take it all in my mouth.”

“Holy-“ His voice catches “You can’t- god!”

“Might gag on it.” You continue, paying extra attention to palming the tip. His knees began to feel weak under your touch.

“Sweetheart, please-“ He pleads “Don’t fucking say shit like that.”

“Why not?” You coo “You don’t want to hear me tell you that I love your dick? That I love how big it is?”

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie groans “You little fucking tease. You love it, huh? You love my big fucking dick? God, you’re fucking filthy. That dirty fucking mouth…”

“Shut me up then, Munson.” You grin “You know how to do it.”

And that’s when he fucking breaks.

“Get on your fucking knees.” He growls.

And just when you begin to sink down, to kneel in front of him and worship his cock- there was a knock at the door followed by your name.

“You’re needed on set in five!”

God…fucking…dammit.

────────

To Be Continued in Part 3…

It was the time of the month when everything hurt a little too much. Your breasts were sore and the pain in your lower tummy made every mundane task sound like a nightmare, acne decorated your skin to the point where you couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror and your emotions were like on a rollercoaster, making you cry over everything.

When you opened your eyes in the morning, you already knew the day wouldn’t be any good. An unbearable pain in your abdomen brought you to tears when you tried to turn on your other side, wanting to sleep for a bit longer since your first class wasn’t starting until 11 AM, but your body had other plans. Kicking the comforter away from your legs, you got up from your bed with a quiet whine that quickly turned into a huff full of frustration when you noticed a patch of blood on the bedsheets. Not even looking behind, you slowly shuffled into the bathroom and locked yourself in there.

Just when you sat down on the toilet and looked down between your legs at the ruined pair of underwear, the knob on the door wiggled a few times. Harry tried to get inside. “Sweetheart? Why did you lock the door?”

You’ve never really used the lock. Harry saw you already naked, sort of, and so you did him. It left you with no need to lock yourself there.

“Oh- sorry, didn’t mean to. Do you need something?” You lied. You didn’t want Harry to know that you got your period. Not that it was something you were ashamed of, you two were very open about this, but Harry sometimes got in the ‘mother hen’ role when he saw you in this state, and that was the last thing you wanted today. All you needed was some alone time, lots of ice cream and a good cry.

“Just brush my teeth, but I can wait. Take your time,” Harry said, leaving without any questions or suspicions, probably back in his bedroom, and you let out a relieved sigh.

You opted for a quick shower. It was the easiest way to get rid of the blood and the uncomfortable feeling lingering in your muscles and relieve cramping.

Sitting back at the toilet, ready to take care of the business, you noticed you were running out of tampons. I can stop in the shop later, you thought, there were still a few tampons left in the box. But the cramps contracting your muscles made you rethink your plans completely. Maybe not.

“You can go,” You called out from the kitchen after you were done. With sleepwear discarded in the hamper and switched for a pink fuzzy bathrobe and brushed teeth, you were making yourself a cup of chamomile tea. This mix of herbs was from Anne, a thoughtful gift you got from her one time when your period came unexpectedly while you were visiting. And even though it’s been ages since that happened, somehow you never ran out of it no matter how many times you made that tea.

Harry took a shower as well, not as quickly as he should have, his class was starting in half an hour, but coming late didn’t faze him. With a quick makeout and a touch of his abs in the teacher's office after class, everything was forgiven and forgotten.

“I’ll try to come on time next week, but I cannot promise you anything,” He always told them after he kissed them goodbye, but he never made good on his empty promises. No wonder Harry’s teachers tolerated his high absence. You would too.

A quiet hum of the falling water echoed through the apartment from the bathroom, where Harry didn’t even bother to close the door, and it mixed with quiet whistles of a kettle you put on the stove that signalled your water was boiling. An idyllic sound of morning.

“You good? I don’t like this frown,” Harry’s brows furrowed in concern when he noticed the deathly glare you were giving your tea. He always noticed everything. Taking a step closer, shirtless and with unbuttoned jeans, he gently cradled your face in his palm and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

The simple affectionate gesture made the corners of your mouth turn slightly upwards, and Harry grinned in triumph, kissing you one more time to make the smile appear. “There she is.”

“You’re gonna be late, Harry,” You reluctantly pulled away from the kiss when Harry tried to prolong it, and ran your fingers through his hair instead in an attempt to give the wet strands some shape.

“I don’t care- Hey! That is my mug!” Harry looked over your shoulder at the white ceramics adorned with his mother’s handwriting in red colour. She made it for him at a ceramics class she attended with her friends.

“And now my tea’s in it,” You shrugged.

“Baby, it says mommy’s boy. Why are you drinking from it? You are not-“

“Oh, so are you mommy’s boy?” You raised your eyebrow at him with a teasing grin before you took a sip of the calming chamomile.

“I’m not,” He sulked but didn’t argue any further, he knew he lost this argument. He finished dressing up and reached for a chocolate-filled croissant that you bought the day before in your favourite bakery. At least his start of the day tasted sweet.

“I'd better be going. Pick you up after class?” Harry pressed the last kiss to your lips, leaving a smear of chocolate in the corner of your mouth after the first bite he took of the pastry.

“Uh not today. I’m probably gonna go grocery shopping,” You shook your head, dismissing his offer quickly with another lie. You already knew that after you sat down on a couch, you wouldn’t move from the spot.

“Oh yeah, I wouldn’t enjoy that,” And with that, he was out the door.

You thought about going to at least one of your classes. You weren’t exactly the type who’d skip school even with a fever, but after the two painkillers you took didn’t seem to help, you were more than content to stay cuddled up in blankets and watch a sad movie on the couch.

You ate the last croissant that was left and drank the rest of the tea, which was cold by the time you finished it. With sore muscles, you moved back into your bedroom to change into a pair of shorts and a hoodie, took off the dirty sheets from your bed and put them in the washing machine. The cramps started being even more unbearable the more you moved, and by the time you made it back into the living room, you completely gave up on the plans of changing your sheets and snuggled on the couch instead.

You wrapped yourself in the fluffiest blanket you owned and squeezed a big pillow to your chest to comfort yourself during sad scenes in the romantic movie you had on. The kind you saw a million times already, a few times with Harry too, but watched it over and over again because it felt safe to cry to it.

Everything reminded you of you and Harry, but you couldn't make yourself stop watching and turn the TV off. The sweet moments the main characters shared, the sleepless nights spent talking till the early morning, the intimate sex, the kisses full of love that were serious - you wanted it all with Harry. And that quiet realisation hit you hard, maybe more than the cramps that have been torturing you the whole morning. You didn’t know what name to give these feelings, nor what Harry carried in his heart, and whether it was close to the love the movie characters had. It all scared you so much you cried yourself to sleep.

“Baby? You’re already back home from the shop?” Harry's surprised tone brought you back from your dreams. You slowly blinked your eyes open. There was a share of romantic movie recommendations on the TV screen because the movie you were watching ended while you were asleep and Netflix wanted to lure you into seeing one more, and Harry stood next to the couch, observing you with a confused expression that was utterly characteristic of him.

“I didn’t go,” You mumbled, your voice still hoarse from your nap, but when you tried to stretch your stiff muscles, a sharp pain hit your abdomen, and you let out a quiet sob.

“Jesus, love. Are you okay?” Harry leaned down and pressed the back of his hand against your forehead to check if you didn’t have a fever. “What hurts?”

“Ugh I got my period.” You huffed and wrapped your arms tightly around your middle.

“Oh baby,” Harry cooed sympathetically and sat down next to you on the couch. He pulled you into his chest, wrapped one arm around your shoulders and pressed his free hand over your abdomen to ease the pain. He knew how uncomfortable your period cramps could get, and he always tried his hardest to make that time of the month as easy as it was possible for you.

“It hurts so bad,” You sniffled.

“I know, baby, I know. I wish I could take all the pain away,” He whispered as he started to rock you from side to side, pressing soft comforting kisses in your hair.

You were so exhausted from the pain and crying, and despite how much you wanted to be alone at first, being held by Harry soothed every tremor your body and heart have been going through. You didn’t even notice Harry typing on his phone behind your back until he set his device on the coffee table.

“Cuddle me?” You pouted and snuggled closer to his side.

“Sweetheart, I wish I could but- I have already plans with Maeve,” Harry admitted the name of his fling quietly. Maeve was one of the girls Harry had seen more than once or twice. She was his go-to contact when he needed a good fuck. A tall redhead with curls that fell in the middle of her back, with a lean body but prominent curves in the front and back and adorable freckles scattered over her nose and cheeks. Ever since you went on a date with the Jacob guy, Harry seemed to search her bed more often.

He cupped your cheek to make you look up at him and kissed your forehead when your eyes found his. You’ve never been able to point out what was swimming in the greenery of his eyes, not even now, and it frustrated you so much. “I’ll get you a heating pad and more painkillers, yeah?”

You sniffled but nodded at his offer and lay back in your pillow nest. You watched Harry go for your heating pad, pink with a plush cover so it wouldn’t burn your skin, and put it in a microwave for three minutes so it would be warm enough to help with your cramping. He came back a moment later, heating pad in one hand and a box of painkillers in the other one, and tugged your hoodie under your breasts so he could put the pad on your abdomen. “Here. It should help with the cramping, I promise.”

“Will you be back soon?” You whispered, suddenly feeling so small. You wanted Harry to stay, to hold you in his lap, kiss your lips or forehead, whatever he wanted, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear until all the pain would go away and remain just love.

“I will try,” He smiled at you softly and pressed a kiss to your lips. “Watch something nice hm? I think there should be a bit of vanilla ice cream left in the freezer too.”

And he was gone again. You couldn’t really blame him, if he had plans already, it would be selfish of you to want him to stay and cancel everything, but deep down you wished for it anyway.

You put on ‘The Big Bang Theory’, it was cosy enough, and with the rest of the ice cream you ate straight out of the box, there wasn’t any need for bowls and fancy utensils, you tried to relax. But even while watching Sheldon annoy everyone and Leonard be hopelessly in love with Penny, you caught yourself thinking about Harry with Maeve.

How he would kiss her, make her moan, watch her writhe in his grasp while he would finger her or eat her out, how he would pound into her in many different positions until she was a mess. You imagined it lively, his fingers tangled in her red hair and his hips pressed against hers, moans mixing in the space of her place. It brought you to tears again.

You curled on the couch, pulled the blanket up to your chin and squeezed the pillow a little tighter. The heating pad started to help with the cramps but you still could feel the pain linger in your muscles.

“I’m back!” Harry called from the hallways brightly. You were close to finishing the third episode of the series when a sound of the front door reached your ears.

“What?” You sat up quickly, not understanding what was happening. “Weren’t you supposed to be with Maeve?”

“Called it off. Someone has to take care of you,” Harry shrugged, “So I stopped in the shop since you didn’t.”

Harry appeared in the living room with two overflowing bags and a bouquet of flowers squeezed between his bicep and ribs. His hair was a little wet, the London weather was acting up again, but he was smiling nonetheless.

He set the bags down on the coffee table with a soft thud, making the content spill on the wooden surface, and handed you the bouquet of tulips. “Got you your favourite,”

“Harry,…” You whispered, not really sure what to say, and took the flowers with shaking hands. You were so confused, yet your heartbeat was closer to a cardiac arrest than to a normal pace. He chose you over Maeve.

“Got new ice cream,” Harry pulled out a tub of chocolate ice cream from your favourite fancy brand that you bought only for special occasions from the bag.

“Some chocolates and candy. I wasn’t sure what you were in the mood for so I bought a bit of everything,” He set down a bag of caramels, sour candy, dark and milk chocolate as well as some cookies.

“Harry,” You whispered again, “You didn’t have to cancel your date just because of me.”

“Shhh, baby, I didn’t finish,” Harry tutted in disapproval at your protest and pulled a bag of oranges, mango and a pack of strawberries next before he topped it with four boxes of tampons.

“I noticed we were running out of tampons, so I got some of these too,” He waved in the air with one box of tampons for regular flow. “I know you like to use these, but I thought since it’s your first day, these ones could be better for the bigger flow. Oh and I noticed we ran out of pads too, so I bought some just in case you’d prefer that right now.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks again, but this time it wasn’t from longing or sadness. You were overwhelmed by love. You would never expect yourself to cry over a haul of period products, but here you were.

“What’s wrong baby? What did I do wrong? You didn’t want these? Fuck, I knew I was supposed to take the ones with the wings,” Harry’s smile dropped at the sight of your tears and he rushed to your side to soothe you.

“No, Har- No-“ All that was leaving past your lips were quiet hiccups and you couldn’t form words nor put a proper sentence together.

“Shhhhh, it’s okay. Just take a deep breath. You’re gonna tell me in a minute whatever’s bothering this pretty mind, but now just breathe,” Harry pulled you in his lap, just how you wanted, and you let out a shuddered breath against his steadily heaving chest.

“That’s it, good girl. One more for me? There she is, that’s much better. Is it hormones? Or what brought my girl to tears?”

“You’re perfect,”

“Me? I don’t think so,” Harry grinned, trying to bring a smile on your lips as well.

“You- You hate shopping but you cancelled your plans and went shopping for me-“

“I bought myself some beer, don’t worry.”

“Harry you really didn’t have to,” You shook your head when you looked at everything Harry bought.

“I wanted to. And I bought you some face masks too.”

It were the little things that meant the most. The smallest details that no one paid attention to but Harry did. He always did. He knew how you liked your tea, what kind of shampoo was best for your hair, that you preferred showers in the morning rather than bubble baths in the evening, and that a good skincare product during your period was a key to your heart.

Before you could break down, though your eyes were already turning glassy, Harry started to press kisses all over your cheeks and forehead. “Oh the hormones,” He cooed, “Troubling my sweet love.”

You smiled a little when Harry reached your lips and started nibbling on your bottom lip, covering it in more kisses and playful bites.

“Can we order takeout please?” You asked shyly when Harry’s assault of kisses calmed down.

“You want to tell me I didn’t buy enough?” Harry gasped, feigning offence.

“No- No you did, I just-“

“I’m just messing with you, baby. Of course we can order takeout. Pick whatever you want for us, I’ll go put away the groceries,” Harry handed you his phone with the food delivery app already open and got up from the couch.

You were scrolling through the endless options, trying to decide between Thai and Chinese, before a notification of a new message stopped your thumb from moving.

Your brows furrowed when her name popped up on the screen. What were they texting? When did he text her? What was she reacting to? There were so many questions you wanted to know the answers to.

“What did you get me?” Harry came back with a can of beer and a cup of hot chamomile for you before he took a place next to you and pulled you gently in his side, careful not to jostle you too much.

“Uh… Thai?”

“Sounds good. Let me order it,” He took his phone back and paid for the food with his card before he switched it off, not even checking the new notifications that were now gnawing at your mind and threw it on the cushions next to him. “Are you comfy, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,”

“Don’t need more pillows? Reheat the pad? Painkillers?”

“I’m good like this.”

“That’s all I need to hear. The food should be here in half an hour,” Harry murmured in your ear. He tightened his arm around your shoulders and gave you a soft squeeze, before he slid his hand down to your lower back and started rubbing soothing circles over the fabric of your hoodie to ease some tension that found its home there.

You finished another episode of the series when the food arrived. You ate your dishes curled up on a couch in comfortable silence, cuddled under one blanket, enjoying the movie night in a changed up concept.

The food was gone, as well as one bag of candy, in no time. After a day of crying and napping, something more fulfilling than one croissant was just what you needed. Your body still ached, there was the uncomfortable feeling that never really left your body during these days, but Harry’s presence made everything feel less intense.

You lay back down, letting your body melt into the pillows, and Harry followed you quickly after, making himself a human blanket, and lay atop of you.

“Ouch, Harry-“ You whined when he set the full weight of his body down on yours, he was really heavy from all the working out, and pushed at his chest weakly to get him off you.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, love. Where does it hurt?” Harry sat up, now straddling your hips, and gently ran his hands up and down your arms and shoulders.

“My boobs. They’re really sore,” You whimpered and covered your chest with a sniffle.

“More than usual, hm? Lemme check? Maybe I can help,” He squeezed your hand gently and with one more look at your face to be sure you were okay with it, he moved the fabric hoodie gently above your breasts.

It was the first time he saw your upper half completely bare. And you looked just like he imagined. Angelic. Soft breasts big just enough to cup in his palm with perky nipples framed by areolae in a darker shade of skin. Harry had to snap himself from staring. You were hurting and needed comfort, not him drooling over you.

“I know it’s not the best moment to say it, but you’re so beautiful,” Harry murmured in awe and slid his palms to your ribs. “So fucking pretty.”

Your cheeks turned a warmer shade of red at his compliment, and you had to bite your bottom lip to tame the wide smile that was spreading on your lips.

“This looks a bit red,” He hummed when he inspected from afar your reddened buds. Running his fingers over the underside of your breasts, he looked up and smiled. “Can I touch you?”

“Mhm yeah but- be careful please.”

“I always am with you, baby.”

Harry ran his thumb over your nipple, gauging your reaction. Every change in breathing, faster heartbeat, goosebumps rising on your skin, he noticed everything.

“Sensitive?” He murmured.

You nodded. That single touch made you arch your back away from the couch, chasing more than just a tip of his finger. It was something so simple, yet it left you craving more. “Harry, please, just, can you do something? It’s really achy.”

“Umhm we can try something sweetheart, if you would be up to it.”

“Please.”

“Okay, lemme just get more comfy for it, okay?”

Harry found his place between your legs and spread them just enough so he could lie down on his stomach between your thighs and hover his head above your chest. You felt his breath fanning your skin and your nipples perked even more at the new sensation.

“Tell me if you want to stop, or just take a break.”

Finally, Harry put his hands back on you. His left hand palmed your right breast, massaging the warm skin gently, while he focused on your left breast with his mouth. With an experimental flick of his tongue against the sensitive skin, he wrapped his lips around your nipple, making you let out a long sigh. Harry didn’t do much, or tried not to, feeling how fragile your whole body felt, but he accompanied the soft caresses with light sucks at least, earning a few quiet moans from you.

“This- this feels good.”

“Does it?” Harry let go of your nipple with a quiet ‘pop’ sound and circled it with his thumb to let his saliva soak in.

He pressed more kisses around the soft flesh, covering it with bites that you barely felt, it rather just scratched your skin.

“Can I give you a soft bite here? Just a tiny mark? For no one but me to see?” You felt Harry nuzzle his nose against the side of your boob, peppering it with kisses before you even responded.

“Please,” You bobbed your head up and down quickly and pressed your hand over his that was still kneading your other boob.

You were feeling a plethora of things. Need, relief, love, a bit of jealousy in the pit of your stomach. Harry was taking care of you in such a special way how no one else could, and you really didn’t even want anyone else. Harry was enough for you. Sure, he had flaws and more imperfections than you had fingers on your hands, but his heart was made of gold. For you. To anyone else it was less valuable metal.

Harry dug his teeth in your flesh and sucked until the skin beneath his lips started to bloom in every shade of red, purple and yellow. A mark of ownership, love, care. And only his. It was on the place where no one would see it and your bra would press on it, making the reminder of him more alive.

“Mhm perfect. And I can’t forget about the other tit, that would be a shame. Such a pretty little thing, big just enough for my hand. And these perky nipples… You were made for me sweetheart, weren’t you?”

“I’m yours,” You pouted. His words, dirty yet from the bottom of his heart, were messing with your hormones.

“Yes you are. All mine. My sweet sweet precious girl,” Harry wrapped his lips around your other nipple, giving it a few gentle sucks.

“Harry-“

“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay. I’m here, and all yours. I’m only yours to have.”

You reached blindly after Harry’s hand, the need to hold onto something twitching with your fingers, and he immediately gave your hand a squeeze. You felt more tears tethering to fall. His words, his lips, it overwhelmed you.

“I’m gonna make it all better,” He murmured against your skin.

You were completely lost in him. You weren’t sure how long he spent worshipping your chest, but when he pulled away with swollen lips and drool dripping down his chin, it must’ve been tens of minutes.

“Kiss me?” You whispered with a pout.

“Of course. Baby, come here,” A wide smile spread on his lips. You were adorable. He raised himself up on his forearms, just enough to hover above your chest so he wouldn't squish you or pressed on your tender breasts, and leaned in.

“Are the cramps better? And the boobs?” He mumbled between kisses. His voice was soft, honey-like, filled with care and something deeper. It was the tone that only you got to hear.

“Mhm,”

“It’s good it’s Saturday tomorrow. Means I can take care of you for the whole weekend. You won’t have to lift a finger,”

“Harry, the cramps will be better tomorrow. Just the first day always sucks,”

“Uhuh no discussion, I’m taking care of you.”

“Thank you,” Your hands find their way to his hair and you wrap unruly strands around your fingers, pulling him down to kiss you.

“Always. Do you want to get in bed?”

“No I uh-“ You bit on your bottom lip, suddenly feeling embarrassed you really didn’t got much done, and looked down at his cross pendant dangling between you. “I haven’t put new bedsheets on. I took off the dirty ones but didn’t really finish changing the bed.”

“It’s okay. We will sleep in mine tonight.”

“Are you gonna cuddle me?”

“Oh I’m definitely gonna cuddle you.”

“And kiss?”

“You’re gonna be sick of me by the morning.” Harry grinned, and to prove his point, he pressed a big smooch on your lips.

“Mhmm I should keep you forever.”

“I’m already all yours, sweetheart.”

You weren’t sure who got more obsessed. Because apparently Harry was out of his mind.

You were reading in your bed. Half dressed, with messy hair and comforter thrown over your body when Harry came into your room, insisting on his important presence, and claimed his usual spot in your bedsheets. But after watching your braless chest rise and fall slowly with every breath you took and your eyebrows furrow occasionally when the plot of your romance novel twisted, he grew bored.

With not so much innocence he thought he had, Harry crawled under the covers and snugged between your parted thighs, looking comical with his socked feet sticking past the edge of the mattress in the air.

“What the fuck Harry?!” Lapping after air, you smacked his head with the sturdy back of your book through the fabric of the comforter, making him groan in pain and bury his face only deeper in your core.

You heard a muffled inhale from him, busking in the scent of your musk and wetness. It was early afternoon, you didn’t take a shower yet, and you were sure he could smell it. His nose bumped into your clit hidden under the thin fabric of your panties and soon his tongue joined the ministration and licked a long flat strip right where a bit of arousal already made an appearance on the crotch.

“Are you seriously- jesus Harry,” You huffed out a laugh before your mouth opened in an ‘o’ shape when he stuck his tongue into your entrance through your underwear.

It was the fifth time that week Harry accommodated himself between your thighs and it was only Thursday! He made you his new hobby, an obsession, a sugary candy he could munch on, and even with your ongoing confusion about his excitement, you were over the moon too.

He didn’t leave the comfort of your apartment. He stayed close, within reach, watching you like a hawk with lustful eyes and prominent need, ready to dive into the waters of your core whenever you’d start craving his touch. At night, in daylight, before dinner, for breakfast, it didn’t matter.

“I’m reading!” You cried out and lifted the hem of the comforter to take in the sight of your best friend between your legs. His eyes were closed as he made out with your core like a man starved. Quiet hums escaped past his lips, making your body buzz, and his arms were tightly wrapped around your thighs to hold you in place.

“You were reading, love,” He reached out and snatched the book from your hand, throwing it carelessly somewhere on the mattress beside him, all without sparing you a single look.

You wanted to react, say something like ‘i hate you!’ or ‘fuck off!’ but all that came out was a loud moan after he pulled the crotch of your panties to the side and pressed a lingering kiss to your clit, already covered in your arousal. Your hips buckled in his face at the rhythmical flickers of his tongue and your fingers tangled in his long strands, pulling him as close as possible.

He had you coming on his tongue in no time, already knowing all your sweet spots that made you roll your eyes back in your head and lungs craving air. He lapped at your juice carefully, not wanting a single drop to go to waste, and moaned into your core until you had to force him away.

“So sweet,” Harry hummed softly and rested his head against your hip, letting you calm down at your own pace. He learned you needed at least five minutes to calm down to get your bearings and his gentle touch soothed you in a way you couldn’t explain.

Your breath was laboured, your body shook slightly under Harry’s weight, and your cheeks were wet from the few tears that fell down in the process as Harry rubbed your side soothingly, whispering soft praises into the silence of your bedroom.

“You’re crazy,” You breathed out finally when your heart beat got back to normal pace and rested your head back against the pillows, watching him nuzzle even closer.

“And you love it,” Harry murmured in a raspy voice, as if he was the one who was moaning and screaming a few minutes ago, and crawled up from underneath the comforter to lay atop of you, burying his face in your neck.

“We have to pack,” You let out a quiet sigh when you noticed the alarm clock on your bedside table.

You were planning on visiting Harry’s mom for the weekend. It’s been a while since Harry has been home and as usual, he wanted to take you with him. You were a part of the family at this point. You spent more holidays than you could count in his hometown, hung out with his sister back in high school maybe too much for his liking, even his extended family knew about you.

Harry decided to drive there. It wasn't a long drive, just about an hour, and his car was back from the service, ready for the roads after his little mishap the other week.

“Ugh I don’t want to!” He whined like a little child and buried his face deeper into your skin. “‘M just gonna wear my old clothes.”

“It won't fit you, Harry!” You laughed loudly at his solution and dug your fingers into his messy curls, scratching his scalp gently. Harry would purr if he could, it was his most favourite thing in the world. Right after you.

“Ever since high school you’re like three times bigger…” You added as you wiggled underneath him to get more comfortable. Your thighs were still sticky and your skin was covered in a light layer of sweat, but what you didn’t expect was Harry’s bulge pressing against your inner thigh through his basketball shorts. “Umh everywhere.”

“You like it?” That comment made Harry look up at you with a wide boyish grin and his hand sneakily slid down to your bottom to give it a firm squeeze.

“Shut up! We really have to pack! And I need to clean myself after your uh… visit,” You muttered with rosy cheeks, hating how easily he could get under your skin. You tried to get from underneath him, pushed at his broad shoulders and chest, but Harry was strong and didn’t even budge.

“Just admit it. You love the fact I get hard on from eating your sweet pussy,” Harry murmured in a low suggestive tone that he knew worked on you like a charm. He leaned forward and pecked your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, before he stole a proper kiss from your lips.

“I don’t,” The frustration was palpable in your voice but neither of you believed your blunt lie.

“Whatever you say, baby,”

Harry only smiled softly at your innocence, those damn dimples popping up, and pulled you in another kiss. His lips worked against yours in a slow pace but gradually grew deeper and messier.

“Harry! I’m serious! We have to pack! The sooner the better! You hate driving at night!” With all the strength you had in your spent body, you rolled him off you on the free side of the bed and got up on your shaky legs.

“You’re like a Bambi,” He propped himself up on his elbow, the comforter over body hiding his boner, and watched you move around your bedroom in just a pair of wet underwear and his old shirt. The sight always made a hint of possessiveness flare up in him.

“Two pairs of pants, two sweaters, three shirts…”

The hangers in your wardrobe left quiet screeching sounds behind as you moved them from the left to the right and back, picking clothes for your trip and throwing chosen articles on the armchair.

“Are five pairs of panties gonna be enough?” You turned around on your heel to face Harry with your bottom lip bitten and 5 pieces of flimsy fabric hanging off your finger.

“If you keep coming on my tongue like that, you’re gonna need at least twenty,” Harry grinned widely. You threw a pair of pink lacy thongs at him in reaction but he caught it expertly without moving his eyes away from you, only supporting your already growing annoyance at him.

The drive to Harry’s mom was smooth. Harry navigated through the heavy traffic in the bigger cities easily and handled the tight turns in the countryside with grace. An old playlist you haven't updated for years with songs from 80s to early 2000s played on repeat and Harry occasionally joined you in your private concert when he recognised the lyrics.

You arrived just before sunset. Anne was already standing on the porch when Harry pulled into the driveway. She looked so nice and put together as usual. With just a hint of makeup, hair lightly curled, wide smile adoring her lips and arms open.

“Hello! Come in, come in, it’s cold out here!” Anne was ushering you inside quickly before Harry could even pull two bags out of the trunk of the car. After a lot of persuading from your side, he reluctantly packed some clothes of his own.

“Hi Anne!” You smiled brightly at her and immediately snuggled in her arms, returning her big hug.

“How are my babies? How are you? Is Harry giving you lots of trouble?” She kissed both of your cheeks with a big ‘mwuah’ sound and rubbed your warm skin softly with her thumbs.

Here was the thing. Anne thought you and Harry were dating. For ages, probably ever since your second year in high school. And neither of you really tried to talk her out of it.

Your two were very close, affectionate, and Harry’s soft kisses to your forehead were hard to mistake for something else than a sign of a romantic relationship.

And Harry liked it this way. Lying to his mother wasn’t indeed something nice, but there wasn’t any harm in doing so. They knew you, they loved you, you were with him all the time anyway.

“I like the idea of dating you better than listening to my mom and sister talking me up to some weird girls I barely know,” Harry admitted one night when you were sleeping in his childhood bedroom, bodies pressed tight together given the small bed, but neither of you minded.

Around Anne and his family, you just had to act more lovey dovey. That task wasn't hard for either of you. Holding hands on or under the table, side hugs and snuggles, sitting in Harry’s lap, kisses to your forehead, cheeks or wherever else his lips could reach. And with the newly explored intimacy between the two of you, this weekend it seemed even easier. Because all you had to do for Anne’s eyes was now what you were doing regularly.

“I’m okay! It’s great to see you again Anne!”

You looked over your shoulder at Harry that was pulling your things out of the car and sent a wink your way when he noticed you were watching him. “Just the regular trouble, nothing I cannot handle.”

Anne cooked a grand dinner for you. It was always like this when you were around. Vegetable soup for the starters, then chicken and roasted potatoes, different types of salads and brownies for dessert. All of it was laid on the dining table, steam curled from the hot dishes and everything looked overly fancy with the porcelain dinnerware set you bought her last Christmas.

“Gemma’s gonna be here for the weekend too,” Harry’s mom announced excitedly as she plated your food. “I’m gonna pick her up tomorrow morning at the train station.”

“Good! Haven’t seen her in ages!” Harry mumbled with a mouthful of potatoes, happy about seeing his old sister, and threw his arm around the back of your chair to support his act. His fingers tickled the back of your neck lightly at first, just an innocent touch, before he slid his arm down and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“And how are your studies? What are you doing all the time? Harry’s not texting me much,” Anne encouraged you with a light move of her fork in the air.

Harry was bad at texting. Messages from one night stands usually stayed unnoticed for days, no matter the situation going on in his pants. The only person he was able to answer within minutes was you.

Dinner was long forgotten as you started describing Anne what you were up to. The essays you wrote and the exams you took, books you bought in the new bookshop by your campus that Harry stole from your desk immediately after he saw them, the new part-time job you found, or the plans you had for the summer with your family. Your life wasn't as exciting as Harry's so you had to spark up some stories a little bit.

But the whole time, his eyes remained on you, listening intently to not miss a single word and giggling under his breath when you mentioned him.

“You look so perfect together,” Anne shook her head fondly at the sight in front of her. “Just how Harry looks at you! My boy is so in love!”

“Mom!” Harry huffed. His cheeks grew warmer under the soft lamp light in embarrassment and he leaned closer to you to hide his face in your shoulder, only supporting his mom’s statement.

“What? I’m just stating the obvious,” She laughed and got up from the table to clean up after the dinner. You offered to help but she dismissed it quickly and ushered you and Harry to go rest after the long day.

The weekend flew by quickly. You spent the whole Saturday gossiping with Gemma, catching up on each other’s lives and walking around Holmes Chapel while Harry stayed with his mom to help her get some jobs around the house done.

“Can’t believe you're still together. How long has it been? Four years now?” Gemma stuck a spoonful of vanilla ice cream in her mouth while laughing. After walking through every corner of the town, you ended up sitting in a park, sun was melting your ice creams slowly and wind was messing with your hair.

You hummed around your own spoon, stopping for a moment to do a quick maths in your head. “Yeah, something like that,”

“I’m happy for you. He’s still a little immature sometimes, a boy, but… you make him better,”

You could see the love and care she had for her younger brother just in the way she spoke about him. He got on her nerves a lot but at the same time he was the one she went to cry, especially when they were still living together back then.

When her first boyfriend broke up with her for some other girl he liked better, that 13 year old lanky boy went to beat him up. Harry ended with more bruises than he was hoping for (zero) but in the end it did the job. Made his sister laugh and put her a tiny bit more at ease.

“I’m happy he didn’t end up like the frat boys back in my college that slept with every single girl on the campus,” She let out a gagging sound at the end of her sentence, her eyes rolling just at the imaginary.

Her words made you stop your hand in the air, the ice cream dripped over the edge of your plastic spoon down on the sandy path. “Umh yeah he’s- he’s great,” You nodded finally and swallowed the melted chocolate.

“He sent me this photo of you guys the other day. Had to send it to mom, couldn’t help myself. I bet she has it printed and hung on the wall already.” Gemma grinned, already fishing for her phone in the pocket. She scrolled through the thread of messages with her brother before she clicked on a photo she was talking about and turned the screen towards you.

You noticed the messages above it first. Plain, easy, nothing extra odd.

But then there was the photo attached. A photo you didn’t even know existed.

You were sprawled on Harry’s bare chest, snuggled underneath his arm that held you tightly in an almost protective gesture, your face buried in his neck and hair messy from his fingers running through it too many times. You were laying on your new lounger you bought for the balcony after your last plastic one had broken. This one was much more sturdy from oak wood and even came with a set of cushions!

On Harry’s stomach, just under his butterfly tattoo, laid the book you’ve told Anne about at the dinner. Spread open, just a few pages in, the dark colour of its cover contrasting with Harry’s pale skin. He just set it down to snap a photo, you assumed, because your pink bookmark was lazily thrown on the cement floor, peeking from underneath the lounger.

You remembered the moment perfectly. You found yourselves like this the other weekend after lunch. The sun was shining brightly and bathed your exposed skin in its warmth. You wanted to just lay down and rest but Harry insisted on starting the new book, in other words, he wanted to read to you. His voice lulled you to sleep before he finished the first chapter, though maybe the steady thump-thump of his heart under your ear and his soft strokes on your back had some effect too.

His face wasn’t fully in the frame, but a wide bright smile was peeking at the top, showing off his bunny teeth. He looked happy. He was happy. And so you were with him.

“I didn’t know he took this photo,” You breathed out in awe before a shy smile appeared on your face. Your grip tightened on Gemma’s phone and you pulled it closer to take a better look.

“You look good together,” Gemma hummed around her spoon as if her words were just a passing by and after a moment took her phone from your hand back and tucked it again in her pocket.

Sunday you spent all together. Harry, Gemma, Anne, and her cats of course. It was the typical lazy day as Sunday should be. Anne made her famous cherry pie for which Harry barely touched his lunch and was whining afterwards because he ate too much of the sweet pastry. Gemma was curled in the armchair by the fireplace, writing something in the laptop on her lap.

“It’ll be quick!” She mumbled when Anne scolded her for working while she should be enjoying the time with you and her brother instead.

But you didn’t mind. Your focus was mostly on Harry anyway because ever since you’ve joined him at the table for breakfast, he’s been acting weird. And not the typical ‘Harry Styles weird’ but weird WEIRD. He was restless in his seat, his hands fidgeted with everything nearby, and he didn’t talk as much as he usually did. Anywhere you moved, whatever you did, his eyes were on you.

You were sitting on the couch with him, snuggled under his arm with legs tugged under your bum and your head on his chest. He rested his cheek against the top of your head and sighed, a quiet, happy sound, just because you were close. He didn’t need more. There was some comedy playing on the TV, but Harry didn’t pay much attention to it and rather studied you. The way you hummed when he squeezed you and melted when he dived his fingers in your hair.

You felt his hand move slowly. Tracing your curves, from your waist down over your hip and to your thigh, before his fingers sneaked under the hem of your flowy dress’s skirt to trace your bare skin.

“Harry,” You murmured under your breath in a warning and covered his hand with yours to prevent him from starting something inappropriate.

“Hey! I’m just appreciating your beauty,” Harry pouted and gave your thigh a hard squeeze, making you whimper at the sudden pressure around your skin. He ducked his head to your neck and nuzzled closer, pressing lingering kisses over your throat.

“Too expressively,” You pinched the skin of his biceps between your thumb and your forefinger, just enough to leave the marks of your nails behind.

“Ouch! Sweetheart!“ He whined. His free hand immediately moved to caress his ‘wounded’ arm, examining the two little half-moons among his tattoos.

Anne joined you all in the living room not so long after, claiming her usual spot on the opposite side of the couch, and accommodated one of her cats immediately in her lap. The purring of the happy cat was so loud even you could hear it.

The conversation flew easily. Gemma set her laptop away and you turned in Harry’s arms, as much as his grip allowed it, to face Anne better as you talked. And Harry? He remained quiet. He listened to your exchange of words with watchfulness and nothing to add, his eyes focused on your face only as if you were the most mesmerising thing in the whole world.

Later that day, you packed your bags and put them in the trunk of Harry’s car also with a few containers of food from Anne so you didn’t have to worry about cooking for a day or two. She watched how you and Harry acted and communicated with each other and couldn’t help herself but smile at the sight widely. Mother always knows.

“Please drive safe. And be good to her,” She hugged Harry tightly, disappearing in his arms for a moment just like you usually did thanks to his height, before she turned to you, “Text me when you get home. And anytime you need, yeah?”

“Will do,” You nodded.

Soon you pulled out of her driveway and with a wave out of the window disappeared behind the first corner. The ride back home felt much longer, even though it was the same kilometres and time. You were curled deep in the passenger seat in a position that many people would see as a dangerous one, but your sleepy state didn’t really play by the rules.

Harry’s hand found your thigh about 20 minutes in the drive and gave it a gentle squeeze, something he’s never done before. He was a reckless driver, but never touched more than your hand during the drive, and only on the occasions when you were upset and teary eyed.

His thumb drew shapeless lines in your skin while he drove, though his eyes were fixed on the road unraveling behind the windshield in the dark, as if he wasn’t even realising what he was doing.

“Don’t fight the sleep, baby. You can nap. I’ll wake you up when we get home,” He murmured softly. He could see your head dropping and pulling back up when you drove through a pothole, desperately trying to stay awake.

“No I’m good,” You let out a soft mumble into the fabric of the passenger seat and snuggled up even more in it, pulling your legs up, your knees in your chest. Your eyes fluttered shut again and your lips parted, you didn’t even realise you were starting to drool.

“Of course you are. Perfect actually,” He hummed to himself and looked from the road down at you quickly. His heart ached at the sight. So pretty and small.

You slept through the rest of the car ride. When you blinked your eyes open, the sky turned dark, making stars scattered above your heads appear, and the houses passing behind the window signalled you were a minute away from the warmth of your apartment.

“We’re home, love,” Harry whispered when he parked the car in front of the apartment building and unbuckled himself before he turned in his seat to face you. He reached out and cupped your cheek, his thumb running over the soft skin under your eye.

You nuzzled into his big warm palm immediately and pressed a kiss wherever your lips could reach. Something so innocent your brain didn’t even catch up with.

Harry used the quiet moment to watch you, take the sight of your warm cheeks and tousled hair in. You looked so beautiful his heart could combust.

There was something dark in his eyes, you weren’t sure what, but it lured you in. It reminded you of the looks he gave you before he ended up between your legs or you atop his lap. Hungry. Waiting. Calm.

“Have I told you how pretty you are today?”

“No,” You shook your head, not really sure what to do with his compliment.

“You’re so pretty. So much it hurts, sweetheart.” He used his hand on your cheek to pull your face closer to his before he dived right in. His mouth moved against yours slowly at first, warming you up, tasting how much you were willing to do after the long ride. No matter what, he would never push you into things you didn’t want to do or crossed your boundaries.

You answered with a quiet whimper and licked into his mouth, making him groan at the sudden bold move. Your tongues danced together passionately and noses bumped into each other.

“Let’s get inside, hm?” He whispered in your mouth. His forehead rested against yours as he tried to catch his breath, low on oxygen all because of you.

“Mhm,” You nodded and unbuckled yourself.

Harry threw your bags on the floor in the hallway without any care when you got inside your apartment and clumsily toed off his sneakers, almost falling over in the process. There was the watchfulness in his eyes again, love curled around his orbs and want lingered in the puffs of breath he let out past his lip.

You were putting the containers with leftovers from lunch, spaghetti and some creamy vegetable soup from Anne, in the fridge when Harry found you in the kitchen. He crowded your space, his big palms cradled your hips gently yet with a firm grip and his chin rested atop of your head. Wrapped in his arms again.

“You’re dangerous,” He murmured after a moment in your hair before giving your hips a squeeze.

“Why?” You giggled and turned around to face him.

“This dress, ugh, this damn dress is doing things to me. Your waist, your boobs, your ass…” Harry growled lowly as his eyes took you in for a millionth time that day, holding you at arms length to see everything. “It fits you perfectly,”

The dress wasn’t something breathtaking like Harry interpreted it. You bought it on sale the other year just for casual wear. It was made from a soft black fabric, with a V cleavage and skirt long mid your shins.

“Just… I have no words, sweetheart. You have me speechless,” He groaned as if the sight of you pained him, which kind of did, and leaned down to kiss you hungrily, communicating this way everything words couldn’t.

You laughed into the kiss, finding him absolutely hilarious, but when he caged you between the kitchen counter and himself and his forming bulge pressed against your lower tummy, the laugh died in your throat.

“Harry,” You whimpered into his open mouth quietly, giving him free access to the depths of yours. His tongue swept against yours easily, the taste of cherry pie still lingering somewhere in between your exchange of saliva.

“Mhm? What is it?” He pulled away from the kiss. He lifted his right hand towards your face and ran the back of his knuckles against your cheek, making you lean into his touch.

“I don’t know,” The breath that left your lips was shallow, holding you on your own very edge from Harry’s presence, before a quiet laugh fought its way out too.

“ ‘m so hard, baby,” Harry cried out.

You have noticed, no, felt, the prominent outline of his hardening dick against the seam of the zipper on his jeans. It looked painful. You maybe had no experience, but you were sure he was bigger than average.

“Do you want me to help you?” You blurted out before you could think it through. You haven’t even seen him naked yet and suddenly you were offering to strip him down.

“Help me?” He chuckled at your proposition, his smile turning into something much more softer. “Oh my dirty girl. You can help me, yeah… We can try something new,”

“Yeah?” You whispered.

“Mhm,” Harry started slowly walking backwards in the living room, your small hand enveloped in his big one, leading you to the couch. “You could blow me. Or just touch me with this pretty hand, that’s gonna feel good too,”

“But what if it won't feel good? You know I haven't done it before,”

There were the insecurities of not being enough again. Of only embarrassing yourself in something so mundane, not fitting into the same boxes like the girls that touched him before.

“It’s gonna feel amazing, I already know it,” He sank down on the couch and spread his legs wide, welcoming you to stand in between them.

You squirmed on the spot under the heaviness of his gaze and bit your lip nervously, not sure what to do with yourself. You felt so awkward, unnatural, unsure of yourself. Nothing a guy would want in a girl. But Harry wasn’t just some guy.

He reached for a fluffy pillow you changed just a few days ago into a flowery cover and set it on the floor in front of your bare feet.

“C’mon, on your knees, baby, want you comfortable,” Harry murmured lowly, his voice getting just a bit darker, and offered you his hands to hold onto so you could kneel.

“This is so weird,” You cringed at the position you’ve found yourself in and rested your hands on his knees. Your skirt rid up slightly, the material bunched under your bum and your cleavage fell a little lower, giving Harry an even better view on your breasts.

“We don’t have to do this, it’s alright. You know I won't be mad,”

“No, no, no, I- I want to try this,” You shook your head quickly, so sure about your decision, and slid your hands up his thighs to prove your point.

“Alright, sweets. But you tell me if something doesn’t feel good, yes?” He waited for a nod before continuing, “Why won’t you help me out of the pants first, hm? It’s getting quite tight in them,”

With another determined nod, you started unbuckling his belt. Your hand shook slightly but you managed to pull the leather from around his waist with less awkwardness than you’d expected. Discarding the belt on the floor next to you, you moved to pop the button of his jeans open. Your hand brushed against his hard dick beneath the denim fabric and you heard him sigh just at the briefest touch. The sound of the zipper filled up the silence in the living room space neither of you really minded and Harry lifted his hips immediately, helping you tug the pants down.

Soon Harry was sitting in front of you in just his boxers and plain black shirt. You played with the hair on his thighs, tracing the outline of the tiger with your pointer finger, doing anything to keep yourself busy from thinking too hard about what was about to come.

“Let’s start easy. Touch me through the fabric, give me a squeeze, or you can kiss it if you’re feeling brave enough. Anything. Just want you comfortable,” Harry took your hand from his thigh and slowly moved it over his bulge, holding himself with your hand.

“Woah,” You whimpered. Touching him like this felt so monumental. You didn’t expect he’s gonna feel this hard and big, you couldn’t even imagine how he’s gonna look bare. It didn’t feel like anything you’ve ever felt before.

“Hard, innit? Told you, feels good already,”

With a spur of adrenaline or excitement, you weren’t really sure what exact emotions were bubbling in your belly, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss over his length, just next to your hands, leaving a smear of saliva behind on the cotton.

“Ugh good girl. My bravest girl. So good for me,”

Harry ran his fingers through your hair, messing with the strands a bit, cradling your head in the gentlest manner, not that he could do otherwise, and held you close.

You smiled shyly at his praise and looked up at him from underneath your lashes. With warm cheeks, doe eyes and tousled hair, the dress pooling around you and soft light from the lamp hitting your skin just right, you looked like an angel to Harry.

Testing the waters, you pressed there another kiss, this time a bit higher, close to the hidden tip. Hearing Harry react quite vocally was mesmerising to see, how his jaw dropped and eyes darkened. His hand slid from your head to your cheek and he ran his thumb over the warm skin, encouraging you to press more kisses over his clothed cock.

“Wanna kiss the real thing, sweetheart? Are you still brave for me?” He moved your hand to the waistband of his boxers and curled your fingers inside. You nodded at his questions, agreeing with both, and with his help started slowly tugging the cotton down.

His cock sprung up immediately when it had enough space, the bulbous head hitting your cheek in the process given how close you were, and you whimpered softly in shock.

Clumsily Harry tugged his boxers down his thighs and let them fall around his ankles, kicking them hastily away.

“Are you still doing good?” Harry murmured and wrapped his hand around his cock, giving himself a few lazy tugs to release some tension.

“Mhm,” You hummed but your eyes were focused only on his crotch. You were mesmerised.

He was big. Wide in girth you weren’t even sure you’d be able to wrap your fingers around him, with a prominent vein on the side and long so much his tip hit his belly button.

“What uh- what should I do now?”

Harry couldn’t help himself but smile at the sight in front of him. You were so cute and innocent, completely at his mercy. Trusting. His.

“Wrap your hand around me,” He guided your hand to his hard cock gently, wrapping his fingers around yours before ever so slowly started stroking his cock with your connected hands. “Feels so good baby. You’re doing great, just follow my lead,”

“You’re so hard, Harry,” You observed out loud, feeling the heaviness of him right in your palm. With each stroke, you felt his cock getting harder and the tip turned into a more angrier shade of red.

“Because of you. You’ve got me so hard, sweetheart. See? I’m already leaking,” He got your thumb swipe over the head and collected the forming bead of pre-cum. You watched wide eyed, with parted lips, doing as he told you to. “That’s a good girl, doing so good for me,”

You pumped him slowly for a bit. With his guiding hand at first before you took the matter in your own hands and tried on your own, and quite successfully, because you had Harry whimpering quietly in no time. He tried to keep his face straight, but your hand felt so good on him!

“Wanna take me in your mouth?” Harry offered gently between breathy moans and reached after your hand to stop you. If you’d keep going like this, he would come in no time and he wanted to savour this moment.

You stared at his hard length, too deep in thoughts, stuck somewhere between awe and fear. Finally you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, the taste of him hitting your tastebuds immediately.

You flicked your tongue against his slit mindlessly, testing the waters, tasting him, which ended with Harry moaning loudly in response. You pulled away from him immediately, your hands flying back on his thighs, scared you did something wrong.

“Come back, baby. Sorry I scared you. I just couldn’t help myself, your mouth feels heavenly.”

Hesitantly you shuffled back and took him in your mouth again, just the few inches of many, and the rest you stroked gently with your hand.

It wasn’t long ago since you watched porn. Just for science reasons. You knew there was probably more about to happen with Harry and you didn’t want to look stupid or reckless. You knew he would never judge you, but the thoughts still lingered in your mind.

You looked up everything. A classic intercourse, something more hardcore that made you both cringe from the fake moans and sad at the sight of perfect bodies on the screen, girls receiving oral, and especially blowjobs. That was the main part of your ‘study session’.

Remembering what you saw in one video, after bobbing your head for a bit and hearing Harry enjoying it very loudly, you hollowed your cheeks and pushed him further in your mouth.

“Oh god yes!”

Trembling slightly, Harry pulled away some of the loose strands from your face and tugged them behind your ear, wanting to see your whole face while you made him feel good. Your eyes were tightly shut in concentration and drool dripped past your lips.

Ever so slowly you started taking more and more of him deeper in your mouth until his tip hit the back of your throat. You tried to relax and get used to the heaviness of him on your tongue, but instead you started gagging. You wanted to push past the feeling in determination to make Harry feel good, even when tears started falling down your cheeks, but Harry didn’t like it.

“Baby, no! Stop!” He pulled you away from his cock with a firm grip on your cheek. Not bruising, but enough to make you listen to him. “You’re hurting yourself,”

You’ve never seen him like this. In a dominant role, dark eyed with slack jaw and a disapproving frown on his lips. His voice was stern, not the sweet soft tone he used a minute before.

“I- I thought you’re gonna like it. Saw it in porn guys like it,” You hiccuped.

“Oh sweetheart,” Harry cooed at your confession, immediately loosening his grip on you, and started stroking your cheek, catching rolling tears with his thumb. “I do like it. But not if my girl is hurting,”

“No deep throating tonight, we’ll take it easy, yeah? Use just your hand now, let’s give your mouth some rest,” He ordered softly.

Still with teary eyes, you obediently nodded and wrapped your fingers around his cock. You stroked him slowly, only occasionally squeezed him or ran your thumb over his slit to collect more of his pre-cum. Nuzzling your cheek in his thigh, Harry ran his fingers through your hair in a reassuring gesture. He noticed you got scared after your unsuccessful attempt to make him feel as good as the guys in porn and wanted to calm you down.

“That’s my sweet girl. Making me feel so so so good with your little hand,”

“You’re gonna make me come soon,”

“Ah just like that,”

His praise got your heart beat faster and heat pooling in your tummy. It encouraged you to be even better for him.

“Do you want my cum, baby? I’ll allow you to use your mouth again. But you have to be good, mhm? No deep throating again,”

“Yes, can I?” You sat up straighter at his offer, your face lightening up. You’ve been wondering about how his cum would taste.

“Of course you can. Suck on me, I’m so close, love,” Harry brought your head back to his cock and ran his thumb over your bottom lip before slipping it in your mouth to press at your tongue. You sucked at his digit with focused precision, drooling around him, humming happily. He exchanged his thumb for his cock soon, pushing the tip past your plump lips, and slowly started fucking in your mouth, not too much to hurt you but enough to reach his approaching orgasm.

In no time Harry started coming. He was moaning loudly and his hips shook, a few drops of sweat were running down his forehead. His salty cum filled up your mouth, making you moan just as loudly at the taste and you tried to swallow everything, even though a bit got out and dripped down your chin.

“Fuck, yes. Such a good girl for me!” His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. You surely sucked the soul out of his body. His grip on your face loosened and he moved his hand to yours that rested on his thigh, intertwining your fingers tightly.

You kept sucking on him even after he came, knowing it could prolong the orgasm, and squeezed on his base to get more of his cum. He tasted salty, a little bitter, but oh god it made you drool.

“Uh enough, baby,” He whined at the overstimulation and pulled his cock out of your mouth, feeling it slowly softening against his tummy. “Come here, come up here,”

Quickly you got up from your knees and sat next to him on the couch. Every move was cautious and gentle, not wanting to startle him. You watched his expression, noticing every subtle change in his mimic, every flutter of his eyelashes and puffs of breath. He was so handsome it hurt.

“Was it okay? Did you like it?” You whispered, not wanting to ruin the atmosphere full of something you couldn’t quite name.

Your unsure questions made him blink his eyes open. “Did I like it? I loved it, sweetheart. The best blowie I ever got, I swear.”

Harry sneaked his arms around your waist and tucked you in his side until there was no space left between your bodies. You nuzzled your head under his chin, feeling suddenly shy. He was still sitting there half naked, without a single care in the world and cuddling you as if he just didn’t come hard.

“My sweet girl. Did her first blowie and did such a good job.”

“Ugh don’t talk about it like that!” You huffed in embarrassment.

MASTERLISTS:

⤷ ONE SHOTS ⋆˚꩜｡ 𑣲 ROOMMATES summary: you and Harry are good friends who live together, but with the huge amount of responsibilites you're lately carrying, he starts missing you (maybe more than he should) contains: FLUFF, kissing, teeny tiny bit of angst, roommates and best friends trope

𑣲 LOVE ME BET BLURB summary: Harry got a bet to make you fall in love with him, but somewhere on the way he fell first contains: uni!Harry

𑣲 DATING FOR TWO summary: Harry grows a delicate relationship with you alongside maintaining his family situation contains: fluff, angst, smut if you squint, mentions of sex, Harry is sappy and in love

𑣲 ROYAL COURT CONFESSIONS summary: On Brittany Broski’s Royal Court, Harry shares more than his marathon achievements and details about his upcoming album contains: fluff, reader has mild anxiety

𑣲 CURRENT BOYFRIEND summary: You did the 'current boyfriend' tiktok trend with your older boyfriend to see his reaction contains: age gap (10 years), fluff, tiktok trend, multimedia

𑣲 LISTENING PARTY summary: Harry tries out something he read about in a baby book contains: fluff, pregnant reader, 2025

𑣲 EXAM STRESS summary: you're feeling burned out from your upcoming exam, Harry takes care of you contains: anxiety, self-doubt, burnout, age gap, comfort and reassurance

𑣲 TO LOVE TO LET GO summary: At your friend’s wedding, you and Harry come to a conclusion that your relationship maybe can’t work the way you want it to contains: age gap (Harry is 32 & reader is 23), angst, sad emotional stuff, fluff, smut → soft dom! Harry, kissing, oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected and rough-ish? sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!), size kink if you squint, aftercare, praise, talks about marriage and kids

⤷ SERIES ⋆˚꩜｡ WE CAN TRY summary: Harry is the ladies man of the university, a charming gentleman with bohemistic life, your best friend and also a roommate. You on the other hand are the complete opposite. Inexperienced, quiet, study type. But watching him, living in the shared bubble of sex, makes you crave everything too. And you try it, with him. Step by step.

𑣲 CH.1 KISS summary: All the frustration of never being kissed finally snaps and Harry is here to help you contains: fluff, description of sex, feelings, kissing

𑣲 CH.2 TIGER summary: Harry helps you wind down with his little friend when uni becomes too much to handle contains: fluff, smut, thigh riding, description of sex??, feelings, kissing

𑣲 CH.3 BARE summary: Harry wants to do more with you but your insecurities get in the way. Luckily, he helps you overcome them and makes you cum again (with his mouth) contains: fluff, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering if you squint, kissing, shaving, lots of insecurities, pet names, praise

𑣲 CH.4 DRESS summary: After a weekend spent in Harry’s hometown, Harry grows completely feral and teaches you a new thing contains: fluff, kissing, oral (f & m receiving), praise, dirty talk

𑣲 CH.5 JEALOUSY summary: You meet someone new and Harry starts getting jealous contains: MDNI, 18+, oral (f receiving), fingering, kissing, jealousy, dirty talk, more new backstory, multimedia

𑣲 CH.6 PAINFULLY SWEET summary: Your period is worse than any other month, and Harry is here to make everything better contains: mentions of period and pain, fluff, Harry being a ladies’ man (I suppose I should’ve added this warning sooner), a bit of lying, kissing, boob and nipple play, multimedia

When you’d grown tired of just twiddling your thumbs, you finally called Jaxon’s sister, Suze. The phone rang for nearly a full minute before you heard, “...Hello?” She sounded groggy.

“Hey, Suze, just making sure you made it in.”

“Wh—Huh?”

“Jax told me about coming to pick you up, so I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

“He told you what? Sorry, I’m still half asleep—I haven’t seen Jax today.”

You sighed. Honestly, you should’ve known. 

You muttered off apologies to Suze—Sorry, I think I got mixed up, goodnight—before hanging the phone back on the hook so aggressively it rang out in the quiet studio. 

Peeking through the glass into the booth, you watched Eddie, the frontman of the band, pick at his guitar. You couldn’t hear him, but you could tell by the papers crumpled up at his feet and the way he seemed to be singing softly to himself that the new song wasn’t coming along as smoothly as the band had been hoping for.

You heard Gareth and Jeff grumbling about the track as they left earlier. It seemed they were at a stalemate. 

You flopped back onto the sofa, snatching the Rolling Stone magazine from the coffee table. Of course, it was Corroded Coffin’s 1989 issue. You had this exact issue in your apartment, sitting on your coffee table too, actually, but you couldn’t help but drink in the cover like it was the first time you’d seen it.

Eddie stood in the middle, looking down at the camera. His chest was bare, showing the expanse of his pale skin littered with black ink. His guitar rested against his lower half, partially blocking his pants, but the shine of the leather was still noticeable. His fingers, adorned with rings, of course, gripped the neck of the guitar. One eyebrow was quirked slightly beneath his bangs; his lips were parted gently. You could see his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek.

Jax, Jeff, and Gareth were around him, posed similarly, albeit more clothed—almost every rock band of the era was going for this look—but there was something about Eddie that kept drawing your eyes back to him. He oozed charisma and sex appeal, even through the glossy pages. 

You guessed that was why he was the frontman.

You flicked through the magazine, attempting to read the stories but inevitably skimming through them. You’d just read it too many times.

Not long after, the door clicked open and Eddie emerged. 

His hair was sticking up like he’d been running his fingers through it (he probably had been). Despite it being just a studio day with no planned public appearances, he still wore a studded belt and rings on nearly every finger.

He blinked at you, stuttering out your name. “I didn’t realize anyone was still here. Jax said you had to go pick up Susan—”

“He,” you corrected, flopping the magazine back atop the table. “He went to get Suze.” You put airquotes around the latter part of your statement. Jax’s behavior wasn’t exactly a secret, so what was the point in even pretending?

Eddie’s forehead wrinkled like he was holding back a wince. “Shit, I’m sorry—and he just what? Left you here?”

“Said he was coming back to get me, but I guess he got too lost in whatever groupie’s pussy—” You sighed, scrubbing your eye with a fist as heat rushed to your face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He shot you a small smile. It was laced with something close to pity. “I mean you have every right to be mad, sweetheart; he—” He raised a ringed hand to scratch above his eyebrow. “Honestly, I thought you were done after the Layna incident.”

Layna was a well-known Corroded Coffin groupie. Around a year ago, she’d totally disappeared from the scene, then reappeared three months ago with a baby, claiming Jax was the father. Too bad Jax admitted to fucking her before the paternity test came back negative.

You don’t think you could ever forget the way his face fell when he heard the news—like he’d wanted to be the father. You’d left for around three weeks before coming back that time.

It wasn’t even that you still had feelings for Jax. It’d be impossible for that at this point. It was more so just routine, and sure, maybe it was selfish, but you enjoyed hanging around with the band.

Drinking and hanging out with Jeff’s girlfriend, Livie, at concerts; dinner with Gareth and his wife, Aleah, on Sundays. Sure, you could’ve still hung out with Livie and Aleah without being Jax’s girlfriend, but you wouldn’t have had an excuse to see Eddie anymore. It’d dwindle to only seeing him on paper or grainy television screens.

You couldn’t imagine he’d hang out with his bassist’s ex-girlfriend.

“Yeah. Me too, to be honest.” You sighed. “How’s the song coming? It sounded good earlier.”

Eddie sighed back, moving to plop next to you. He let his head fall back against the top of the couch, his eyes closed. “It’s, hah, I dunno.” He turned to look at you. “Missin’ something, I guess.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” You wrung your hands together in your lap, giving him a small smile.

Sitting on the couch like this, your faces were close. You forced yourself to keep your gaze on his nose and above—no glancing down any further. 

But Eddie didn’t abide by this rule. His eyes darted down to your lips. He must’ve not meant to do it because he sat up, resting his elbows on his knees and successfully hiding his face from you. He cleared his throat.

“Why’re you looking at me like that?” he asked.

You raised your eyebrows, but before you could answer, he sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions again. “Sorry—I’m sorry. I dunno why I—” He ran a hand down his face. “I don’t know why I asked you that. ‘M being unfair.”

“It’s—You’re fine.” You tried to keep your voice steady despite the confusion that was rising within you.

“Can I ask you something?” He was looking at you again.

“Sure.”

“Why are you still with him?”

You blinked. You couldn’t pretend you hadn’t been asking yourself that same question.

“Guess I just got used to it. It’s my routine…” You shook your head. “Honestly, I don’t know. He treats me like shit. Left me to go ‘pick up his sister.’ I called her, and she hadn’t even talked to him. I mean, I already knew he was lying…Well, I figured he was. Still, it–it fucking sucks that he sucks.” You laughed a little, self-pityingly. 

You sighed again. You mumbled, “Dick’s good, I guess.” An afterthought to yourself, really. You weren’t sure why you said it to Eddie Munson of all people. It wasn’t like it made you look any less pathetic—only made it worse, if anything. You dropped your head in shame the moment the words left your mouth. 

Why would you bring up your sex life with your shitty boyfriend to his very attractive bandmate—

“Yeah right.”

Your head snapped up and over to Eddie. For a moment, you thought you might’ve imagined it. “Wh—huh?”

Eddie, who any other time was the opposite of nonchalant, was suddenly cool and composed. He shook his head as one shoulder rose. “Just find that hard to believe, ‘s all.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from retorting,“You some kind of sex expert or something?” Oh God, why did you say that, why did you say that, he’s going to think you’re a total freak—

“Maybe. Never heard that one before, but I haven’t heard any complaints either.” 

Heat rose up your neck. 

Haven’t heard any complaints. 

Suddenly you were plagued with the images of the girls you’d seen leaving Corroded Coffin’s shared apartment. Girls with makeup smeared across their faces, their hair a mess—even then you’d known just sleeping didn’t make you look like that, but you’d forced the thought from your head.

“Know I’m better than your shithead boyfriend, that’s for sure.”

You couldn’t stop your brows from shooting high on your forehead. Eddie was talking about Jax like they weren’t bandmates—weren’t friends. Your thoughts must’ve been clear on your face because Eddie added, huffing out a laugh, “You ever see me get along with him?”

Your gut instinct was to say yes, but the more you mulled it over…had you?

You thought back to last week at the bar. Had you seen Jax and Eddie speak? You could only remember Eddie addressing you. Then, a few weeks earlier, at their apartment for dinner…again, only you. 

Your face flushed. You’d been so caught up in your own interactions with Eddie, you hadn’t even noticed the tension between the two.

“I could be better than him.” Eddie was so close, you could see specks of gold in his eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip.

“What are you saying?” you asked, eyes trailing from the curve of his lips up to where his eyes seemed to be boring into you.

“I think you know what I’m saying.”

“Are you really playing games right—mmph—”

A flash of brown hair was the only warning you received before his lips met your own. Your eyes were wide and you were taken with how soft his lips were. Frozen, you couldn’t get your body to react.

Eddie was kissing you. He was kissing you, and it wasn’t weird. He was kissing you, and he tasted like cherry chapstick and tobacco.

He slowly pulled away, and you realized you hadn’t kissed him back—you’d just sat there, unmoving. His eyes darted away from you. “Oh Christ, I’m sorry I–I don’t know wh—mmph—”

You rushed forward, meeting his lips again. For a moment, like you had been, he was frozen in place, but he quickly relaxed into it. His hand met your hair, and you easily let his tongue into your mouth as his grip tightened on you.

You brought your own hands up to his chest as his hand shifted from your hair to your neck, tugging you closer to him. You moved together, the only sound in the empty room the slick clicks of your mouths.

Eddie pulled back, rubbing his nose against yours. “Can I ask you something?” His thumb was running up and down the side of your throat, and you worked hard to concentrate on what he was saying.

“Ye—” You cleared your throat. “Yeah.”

His eyes left yours. “Feel free to smack the shit out of me if you want—”

“I’m not gonna do that.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” He didn’t look convinced, so you added, “I’m not gonna hit you, okay? Just ask.”

“Well,” he started. “I had this idea for the record—”

Okay. Maybe you would smack the shit out of him. “Is now really the time for that?”

“Yeah, actually.” He glanced from you to the recording booth. “The record—What it’s missing—” He sighed before starting again. “I think you can help me.”

You leaned back in his grip to laugh. “Me? I can’t sing, let alone play an instrument. I can’t even play the triangle.” 

“I think you can do the kinda singing I need.” His eyes darted down across your body, and it felt like they’d shot lasers at you.

“Wh—I’m not sure I know what you’re saying.”

“I don’t mean to make assumptions here, sweetheart, but if we, ahem, keep goin’...” He nodded his head as he spoke, clearly choosing his words carefully. “Could we move it to the booth?”

“You mean—” You blinked and gestured a finger at the both of you.

“Yes.” He quickly added, “But only if you want to.”

“But…everybody’ll hear me.”

“Nobody has to know it’s you. I won’t say anything.” A small smile peeked at his lips. “It can be our secret.”

Your secret. Your secret with Eddie. It made you giddy like a schoolgirl to think about. You could be on the song. More specifically, you and Eddie having sex could be on the song. You didn’t want to dwell on why that made your stomach flip and your neck hot. 

Everyone who bought the record would hear you and Eddie. Even before that, the band would hear you and Eddie. The band, including Jaxon, would hear you and Eddie—

“Oh my god Jaxon.” Your stomach flipped again but this time, soured. “I can’t believe I didn’t think about Jaxon—He’ll hear and–and he’ll know—”

“I thought you said you didn’t know why you were still with him?”

“Well, yeah, but—”

“This’ll show him he can’t get away with just treating you like this. He’s always blowing you off and treating you like shit. Somebody needs to show him what happens when you take a pretty girl—a good girl—who has always done right by you and you treat her like garbage.” Eddie’s chest was nearly heaving, and he looked down at himself slightly, like he wasn’t sure where all that had come from. “But—I mean—only if you want to. Of course.”

You swallowed. He had a point. I mean, where was Jaxon now? Definitely not with his sister, that was for sure. You thought back to the number of times he’d ditched you and were embarrassed to realize it was easily in the double digits just this month. 

You frowned. When had you decided you were fine with being treated like a doormat? When had you decided that this was what you were worth—

Eddie must’ve interpreted your silence as rejection. “I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t trying to bash you or–or something. I just—You deserve better.” He took a deep breath. “You don’t have to do this with me. Or–Or you can, but we don’t have to—” He shot a thumb back towards the recording booth. “You can forget I asked. I can figure something out. It’s, uh, not a big deal.”

You wondered what ‘figuring something out’ looked like. Dropping the idea all together and trying something else for the record? Or asking someone else?

Your stomach rolled at the idea of Eddie asking another woman. You knew he wouldn’t have any issues doing so either. Part of you knew it was unfair to be jealous about it, but that didn’t matter. 

You stood from the couch abruptly. You had made your mind up—honestly, you had made your mind up the moment he asked you.

“We can just forget this happened—” he started, but instead of moving towards the exit, you moved towards the door to the booth.

“Are you coming or what?” you asked, narrowly biting back a smirk. 

You’d never seen him move so fast.

You tried to maintain your confidence, but something about Eddie melted it down to mush. “B-But is it—”

“It’s recording, sweetheart; don’t worry.” 

You were both seated on a couch in the recording booth. You hadn’t ever thought of Eddie as muscular per se, but he’d pulled the couch from the studio into the booth effortlessly. 

He cradled your neck as he planted kisses along your throat.

“Oh—Okay.” You were nodding, and you knew you should’ve been embarrassed at how desperate you were from just a few kisses.

Eddie sure didn’t seem to mind. His cool rings pressed against your neck as he pulled you closer to him. You braced yourself with both hands on his shoulders, quickly moving them to caress up and down his shoulders in an attempt to mask the fact you were truly gripping him for dear life.

Getting impatient at the attention your neck was getting, you grabbed his hand from your waist, moving it to your center. You felt his teeth as he smiled against you.

He pulled the button from your pants with one deft hand, and you bit back the jealousy that was stewing. How many women had he practiced on to get that just right? Not that you had any room to talk considering you had a boyfriend, albeit a shitty one, but—

You didn’t have time to overthink when Eddie immediately tucked your panties to the side to run agile fingers up and down your folds. You instantly noticed the calloused pads of his fingertips—that of a guitarist.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He leaned back to rub his nose along your cheekbone. “You get this wet for him, or is this just for me?”

For a moment, a stab of guilt ran up your spine, making you sit up straighter, but it quickly morphed to arousal when you felt the tip of his finger dip into you.

“Eddie, I—mmph—” He trailed his finger back up to dance around your clit, never quite giving you the pressure you needed.

“Yeah? Tell me something, baby.” He was still nosing across your face.

“D-Don’t wanna talk about him.”

“Hm, that’s right. You don’t need him when I’m here, huh?”

You shook your head shamelessly—the wetness between your legs had already given your desperation away.

Eddie smiled. “Sweet girl.”

You leaned into him at the nickname, making him chuckle. 

Suddenly, he took a step back, pulling his hand from your pants, leaving you suddenly cold without the warm touch of his fingers.

Your lower lip jutted out into a pout, and he chuckled at you again. “I know. Here.” He tapped his fingers that had just been at your cunt across your lips. “Get ‘em wet for me, baby.”

You opened your mouth instinctively, wrapping your lips around the digits. Overcome with the desire to be good for him—to even remotely wreck him the way he already had you—you bobbed your head, taking his fingers down to the glittering silver along his knuckles.

He was watching you, his lips slightly parted as you gagged around his fingers. “Knew you’d have a sweet fuckin’ mouth.”

You gagged around him, the sound wet and humiliating, but you couldn’t be embarrassed—not when his mouth lolled open while he watched. You went to bob your head again, but he withdrew his fingers, leaving your mouth empty and waiting.

Without hesitation, he gripped your cheek, four digits on one side, his thumb on the other, as he pulled your mouth to his. He spread your saliva across your cheek with his fingers.

With your chest heaving, you could only peer at him through your lashes.

Eddie paused, drinking in your features. “Is–Is this okay?” He moved like he was going to retract his hand from your face.

You nodded eagerly, grabbing his hand to keep it there. You nuzzled your face towards his hand as best you could with his grip on you. “I—” Your face was warm, and you were starting to feel a little dizzy. “I like it dirty.”

For a split second, you couldn’t read his expression. But then, you noticed the sparkle in his eye. “Yeah? Sweet girl likes it dirty? I should’ve known.” He tilted your chin back. He planted a surprisingly chaste peck on your lips before murmuring, “Open your mouth.”

You blinked up at him, and God, all he could think about was painting your pretty fucking face with his load. Especially when your lips parted so obediently. 

He didn’t hesitate to spit directly into your waiting mouth, not missing the way your thighs pressed together. He watched your throat bob as you swallowed his warm spit, shamelessly removing his wet hand from your face to adjust himself in his jeans.

“You like that, baby?”

You nodded, but that wasn’t enough. “Tell me,” he insisted.

“Yeah.” Your voice came out breathy and high. “Yeah, I like it, Eddie.”

“Fuck,” he practically groaned. “I need to see you.”

You didn’t need to hear anything else, instantly moving to pull your pants down, stumbling about in your attempts to be swift. You felt your face heat, but when you looked over at Eddie, he was too busy pulling his own belt from its loops and shucking his pants down to his ankles, just as desperate.

As if he felt you staring, he suddenly looked up. His hair was unruly against his forehead, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed deeply. His eyes darted from yours, and you could’ve sworn his cheeks were dusted pink, but it was hard to tell in the dim lighting.

You lifted your hips to finish pulling your bottoms over the swell of your ass, and Eddie quickly jumped into action. His jeans rustled as he kicked them off his legs. One foot got caught at the bottom, causing him to jump and flail until it flew onto the floor with a thump.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you.

Here was Eddie Munson—rock band frontman, guy you’d seen smash paparazzi cameras for getting too close—dancing around, trying to get his pants down his legs. 

Somehow, he made it not dorky, though. Okay, maybe it was dorky, but he managed to make it charming.

“Whatcha laughing at?” He approached you again.

You would’ve thought Eddie was the type of guy to wear tight black briefs. In your head, he was in a perpetual state of chains and leather. But instead, he wore a pair of loose blue checkered boxers, clearly choosing comfort over his typical garb.

He put his hands against your pants at your knees, looking up at you from beneath his bangs. He raised his eyebrows at you. “Is this okay?” He suddenly sounded worlds smaller.

You nodded incessantly, helping him tug your pants the rest of the way down your calves. He balled them up and threw them in the general direction of where his own pants were. 

You pulled at the bottom of his t-shirt, and he quickly got the hint, pulling it over his head. 

You’d seen him shirtless plenty of times. There was the Rolling Stone cover (along with countless other magazines), outdoor Corroded Coffin shows where he’d inevitably end up shirtless, even days when he’d invite the band over to his fancy rooftop apartment to lounge by the pool in the summertime. But you’d never been this close.

Close enough to see the spot on his chest beneath his collarbone where the one of the legs on his spider tattoo was a shade more faded than the rest.

Your gaze shifted down his torso to the dark trail of hair that disappeared into his boxers. Suddenly struck with the fact you’d been blatantly ogling him for the past few minutes, you looked back up to his face quickly, expecting to find him already staring at you.

He was staring at you, just not at your face like you’d expected.

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint where his gaze was, but it was without a doubt far below your neck.

You were naked, sure, but something about the way he was so openly peering at you made you feel even a step past naked. It was like he’d stripped a layer of you back, and was looking at you completely. It made your skin prick with something beyond arousal. 

For a moment, you wanted to sink in on yourself—you couldn’t name a time you’d felt more exposed. But the way his boxers were tented replaced any mortification with something hot injected straight into your veins.

He finally looked up at your face, shameless about being caught, and leaned in, closing the gap between you. Your lips met and his moved against yours like second nature.

His tongue licked into your mouth like he was trying to map it. You suckled at the warmth of his tongue as he began to pull at the hem of your shirt. You parted long enough for your shift to join the pile of the rest of your clothes. 

Eddie’s hand met your face and caressed you gently, a stark contrast for the way his tongue was ravaging your mouth. Your chest heaved as you moved impossibly closer to him, centimeters from being entirely in his lap.

“Here,” he mumbled against your lips before softly turning you around until you were over the back of the couch.

Your breasts pressed against the top of the couch, your nipples pebbled on the rough fabric, as your knees sunk into the cushions of the seat. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t purposefully push your ass out, presenting yourself to him.

The wet spot in your underwear was growing uncomfortable and you were painfully aware of it as you pressed your thighs together in a lame attempt to ease the incessant throbbing in your core.

You sat up on your elbows to peer over your shoulder. Eddie was running his tongue over his bottom lip, and when you noticed the slight jerk of his arm, your gaze trailed lower to watch him tug on his cock slowly. You couldn’t help the way you arched your back further.

He’d dropped his boxers just enough to free his cock and for a moment, you (embarrassingly) hated you missed the exact moment he’d pulled it out—hated you missed the way it surely had bobbed up towards his stomach from the sheer weight of it once he’d pulled his underwear down.

He paused at the base to squeeze tightly, and God, it gave you the opportunity to truly admire it.

You knew he would be big. I mean, come on. It was clear by the way he acted that he would be packing. But shit, your imagination really had nothing on the real thing.

Thick and long—you were sure your hand wouldn’t be able to fit around its girth. Against his hand it seemed even bigger. A pronounced vein ran up the side to the rosy tip.

Eddie gave it another slow stroke, a smirk on his face. “Big enough for you, sweetheart?”

Your only response was the slight shift of your shoulder and chin. 

He squeezed his cock, mumbling under his breath, “Too fuckin’ sweet.”

You didn’t have any time to react before Eddie was diving down onto his knees, his mouth latching onto your glistening pussy.

“Oh!” You jumped, and Eddie wrapped his arms beneath your thighs to keep your cunt held tightly against his hungry mouth.

He licked a stripe from your clit to the edge of your tightest hole. For a moment you thought his tongue was going to keep going right across, and you weren’t sure if you liked the way the mere idea of it made heat crawl up your neck, but he stopped to pull back.

“Sweet girl, even sweeter cunt.”

Cunt.

“Eddie,” you whined, feeling your heartbeat in your ears.

He sucked two fingers into his mouth before you felt them run along your slit.

“Yeah, baby?” He rested his cheek right below the swell of your ass. “Talk to me.”

Suddenly, you were hyperaware of the recording equipment surrounding you and picking up every word, sound, and rustle. You dropped your face to the top of the couch, rubbing your nose against it.

“Hey,” Eddie mumbled. His hand shifted and ran across the globe of your ass. “I can delete it if you don’t like it.” His other hand came up, then he was caressing the expanse of your ass broad with both his wide palms. “I’m still enjoying myself, okay? I’m not just doing this for the record, I…” You heard him swallow. “I think you’re gorgeous—fuckin’ perfect, really—and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about you before…like this.” 

Leave it to Eddie to make you blush when he just had his entire face in your cunt. 

You lifted your head to peer over your shoulder at him. “No, no—I, uh. I wanna keep going. And I want you to use it for the record. I just—” You sighed. “I don’t wanna sound stupid.”

He immediately bristled. “You’re not gonna sound stupid.” He brought his hand down a few times on your cheek, not quite a spank. “Here, turn this way.” He helped you maneuver until your back was against the couch cushions. “Help me out, baby.” He pressed your legs up from beneath your knees, and you tucked your arms there, holding yourself open for him.

He made a low sound in his chest, and you realized how exposed you were. You didn’t get bashful though. You managed to keep yourself the way he wanted, even with the way you felt heat rising up beneath your skin.

“Don’t think so hard about it, okay?” Eddie said as he lowered himself back down to you. “It’s just you ‘n me.

And the recording, you thought, but his words eased you nonetheless. 

You were suddenly thankful he had you holding your legs as his nose prodded your hole as he moved to suckle at your clit. 

“Oh, th–that—yeah,” was all you managed to spit out.

“Mhm?” he hummed against you, and you swore you felt it down to your toes.

“Yeah,” you sighed.

A hand reached down to swipe his thumb across your clit as his tongue finally dipped into you.

You whined. “Please.”

“Hm? Talk to me, sweet girl, d’you want it?”

“Mhm, I’wan’it.” Your words all slurred into one another.

When you felt his middle finger prod at your hole, you couldn’t help the desperate sound that left you.

“Yeah? That what you need?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Ah…c’mon. Tell me.”

“That’s what I need, Eddie,” you quickly breathed out. In that moment, you would’ve done anything he asked you.

“There we go,” he said, more to himself, as he finally sunk a finger into you. 

You couldn’t even be embarrassed anymore with the sounds that left you. You were so wet, you could hear the slick sucking sound everytime he fucked his finger into you, and he quickly added another. 

“So wet. She’s sucking me in.” He didn’t even look up as he spoke. Your pussy was drooling around his fingers and down his wrist, his rings now coated with milky white. Your clit was puffy and swollen, peeking out with every thrust of his hand.

You raised your hips as he continued, following him as he curled his fingers up into you, hitting that spot. You hadn’t even realized your mouth had been wide open, sounds falling out freely.

“Ed—oh.” You bit your lip harshly. “Your mouth.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, never one stopping his ministrations. “Huh, baby? She want a kiss?”

You nodded eagerly, hands slipping along your thighs that had become balmy with sweat. “Yeah, yeah, please.”

“I’ll give her a kiss, baby.” The last thing you saw before he lowered his head again was the flash of his smile. 

When his lips met you, you gasped. He closed them firmly around your clit and the wet sound was so loud you were certain the microphones were picking it up. You didn’t care anymore—you couldn’t care, not if it felt this good.

His tongue on your swollen bud paired with his fingers inside you—curling so perfectly you swore your vision whited out every time he did it—brought you barreling towards your release. You could barely pant out, “I’m–I’m gonna—” before you were cumming loud and unabashedly. He worked you through it, finally stopping when your whines got especially pitchy. 

The moment he raised up from your core, you dropped your legs, now boneless. Your heartbeat was still a steady pulse in your clit. You caught your breath, swiping the sweat from your face. 

“Good?” Eddie asked, looking a little too smug (though you guessed it was earned).

“Better than good,” you said, your voice already halfway ruined. 

You sat up properly on the couch as Eddie maneuvered back over to his pants, pulling something from his pocket. He turned back around and now had a condom pulled over the length of his dick, making you sit up even straighter. 

Once your legs had stopped feeling like jelly, you had had every intention of returning the favor. You started, “Y’don’t want me to—”

“No, no.” You heard the smack of his hand against his dick. “Fuck. I mean, yeah, sweetheart, ‘course I do, but I need to be inside you, like, now.”

“Next time, then,” you said, narrowly biting back a smirk.

He quirked a brow at you, not bothering to bite back his smirk. “Next time?”

“Yeah.” You spread your legs, making room for him. “If you don’t kill me first.”

He fit perfectly between your legs, crowding you against the couch. His gaze was glued to your slippery cunt as he tapped the spongy tip of his cock against your clit. He raised his eyes long enough to say, “Could say the same for you.”

He slid his length up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices. You tried to be patient, you really did, but when he tapped his head against your clit again with a wet squelch, you couldn’t help the whine that left you.

“Alright, alright,” he mumbled. He said it so gently and lovingly, you swore your pussy spit out another half gallon. “I’ll put it in, now you just gotta sing for me. You’ll do that for me, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You were nodding eagerly. “Please, please, please just put it in. I need it. I—oh—” 

He sunk in easily, you more than prepared after your first orgasm, but his size still made your breath catch in your throat. He groaned like he wasn’t doing much better.

“She’s choking me, baby, fuck.” He sounded pained, the veins in his arm flexing where he was holding himself up over you. 

It was a stretch, and you could feel every inch of him in you, yet you still clawed at his arms, wanting—no, needing more.

“More, come on, I need it all—” No quicker than the words left your mouth, Eddie pushed all the way in with a loud groan.

Now, it was you that sounded pained, but you’d never felt better in your life. It felt like he’d sunk completely up through your stomach and into your throat. You could feel him everywhere. Your head flew back against cushions and you gripped his bicep as you looked down where you were taking him.

He had been staring up at the ceiling, his mouth wide open, but when he saw where your gaze was locked, he lowered his own, and you watched as his neck all the way down to his chest grew red. 

“Fuck, I’m, fuck—” He pulled out maybe an inch before sinking back in, like he couldn’t bear to pull out. He couldn’t. “She’s sucking me right in.”

Finally, he began to shallowly thrust into you and the grip you had on his bicep tightened as your mouth fell open. His heavy cock was splitting you right open and felt like it was hitting every spot, if that was even possible.

Eddie raised one hand to cup your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip. “C’mere, baby,” he said lowly.

He lowered his face to yours and spat right into your waiting mouth. As he did, he pulled all the way out, leaving his tip kissing your hole, before plunging back in completely. You didn't recognize the strangled, pornographic sound that left you.

His spit was warm in your mouth and you could feel your slick gushing from between your legs with every thrust of his fat cock. You were easily gripping him for dear life—both with your hands and your cunt. 

He shifted until his dick was kissing that spot that he’d so easily found with his fingers. The sounds—your whining, his moans, the slick sound of your bodies meeting—seemed to bounce off the walls, and the recording equipment couldn’t have been further from your mind. All you could think was Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

It seemed to be the same for him, the way your name left his lips in desperate puffs. “Touch yourself, please, I’m so—” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, but never once stopped his eager pace.

You dropped your hand between your legs immediately, your fingers slippery as they scrubbed across your clit.

“Right—right there.” You had squeezed your eyes shut. You were right at the edge of your release, you just needed— “Right there, right there, right—ohmygod—”

“Yeah? Yeah, baby? I got you, I fuckin’ got you—” 

You clung to him, your vision spotty and your chest heaving, as you came with a loud whine of his name. He buried himself to the hilt with a shout of your name, the hair at the base of him borderline overstimulating your sensitive clit.

He dropped down against you, his cock softening inside you. His arms wrapped around you, and you felt he was trembling. You weren’t in much better shape.

“Are you—” He stopped to inhale shakily. “Jesus, you okay?” 

You hummed. Your bodies were both slimy with sweat and other juices, which sounded more than uncomfortable, but you found the warm weight of him comforting. 

He peered at you, petting your hair away from your face. “You sure?”

“‘M good,” you finally croaked. “You—I—” You paused to laugh, shaking your head. “I think you fucked my brains out."

He laughed, strands of his damp hair shaking with the force of it. 

“Yeah, well, if that’s the case then you sucked out my soul.” He ran a finger along the length of your face. “You know, through your puss—”

“I get it,” you cut in, laughing. You glanced over to the window to the production room. “Think we got anything good?”

Eddie looked at you like you’d grown three heads before his lip curled, a devious smile on his face. “I dunno…might better do it one more time. Just to be safe.”

Six months later.

“Eddie, you gotta tell us, man.” The interviewer leaned over his desk towards him. “Everybody’s dying to know about…that part on the new record.”

“What part, Howard?” Eddie shot a knowing glance at the audience, which got a few cheers. “I know Gareth killed the drums on the bridge.”

The crowd laughed.

“You know the part,” Howard insisted, laughing. “I think everybody knows the part.”

“I think it speaks for itself,” Eddie said. “Don’t really have much to say on that.”

“Well, your fans have had a lot to say about it,” Howard continued. 

“No denyin’ that, that’s for sure.” Eddie tugged at the collar of his shirt, making the crowd laugh.

“I think one of the biggest questions has been…well.” Howard shrugged. “I don’t know how else to ask it—but well, was it real?”

Eddie looked from Howard to the audience. Right before he opened his mouth to speak, the television flickered off.

“Hey!” you called. “I was watching that.”

Eddie sat the remote down on the coffee table before taking a seat on the couch next to you. “You’ve watched it at least ten times since it aired.” 

“Maybe I was trying to make it eleven.” 

He hummed, his arm coming around your shoulders. You melted into his side easily. 

“How’s the new guy?” you asked, rubbing your cheek against his chest.

“Good. He’s a great fit for the band.” He dropped his cheek and rested it on top of your head. “Jaxon hasn’t tried to reach out anymore. Or showed up at the studio wasted, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried.” It was true—you weren’t. You knew Eddie would handle everything. He always did.

“Good.” He planted a kiss on your head. 

You sat up and grabbed the remote from the table. He groaned as you turned it back on.

“You could probably recite this word-for-word by now.” He shook his head.

You pressed back against him, pushing your tongue to your teeth to prevent a smile. 

“Everyone’s dying to know who it is,” Howard was urging. “At least give us a hint.”

On the screen, Eddie shrugged, clearly trying and failing to seem nonchalant. You couldn’t stop yourself from mouthing the words along with him as he said, “Well, it’s my girl.”

People always say the same things about you.

Sweet, polite, and pretty in that soft sort of way that makes old women at the grocery store smile at you fondly and teachers immediately trust you with passing out papers.

The kind of girl who remembers everyone’s favorite candy, who waves when people let her cross the street, who still says bless you when someone sneezes, even if she doesn’t know them. Hawkins is small enough that kindness stands out, and yours seems endless.

It’s almost strange, really.

Not because you’re naive exactly, but because the world has not managed to harden you yet. You still help Dustin with his homework even after he acts like a little asshole all through dinner. You still leave little notes in his lunchbox and compliment strangers’ outfits and smile at people like you genuinely hope they’re having a good day.

And maybe that’s why nobody’s ever dated you.

Not for lack of trying, because boys definitely do. They trip over themselves around you constantly, all awkward grins and sweaty palms and invitations to the movies that you somehow never realize are dates until weeks later when Robin physically grabs your shoulders and says, “Honey, he was flirting with you.”

Your response had only been a confused blink. “He was?”

Robin had stared at you for a very long moment before muttering something about you being “a baby deer in the middle of hunting season.”

The thing is, romance has always felt like something happening around you instead of to you. Girls in your grade pass notes about kissing boys behind the bleachers while you sit beside them, doodling little stars in the margins of your notebook.

Nancy comes over ranting about Steve, and you listen carefully, chin in your palm, like she’s telling you a story from another planet entirely. Then there’s Eddie. And honestly, maybe the universe should’ve warned him first.

Because Eddie is used to people looking at him and immediately deciding what he is before he even opens his mouth. Freak. Burnout. Drug dealer. Satanist. Every adult in Hawkins looks at him like he’s one wrong move away from corrupting their children, and every girl who flirts with him does it with this expectation that he’ll play into the role they’ve already created in their heads.

But you don’t, you look at him the same way you look at everyone else: warmly.

The first time he really notices it is after Hellfire one night, when everyone else has already cleared out of the drama room except you, sitting cross-legged in one of the chairs, waiting for Dustin to finish arguing with Mike about some campaign detail. Eddie’s shoving books back into his bag when you quietly slide a can of Coke across the table toward him.

“I remembered this was your favorite,” you say simply.

And Eddie just stares at you. Because you remembered that. Not in a flirty way. Not trying to get anything from him. You’d just noticed him mentioning it once weeks ago and tucked the information away in that sweet little head of yours like it mattered.

“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, dragging a hand down his face.

You blink at him softly. “What?”

“Nothin’, sweetheart.”

The nickname slips out before he can stop it. And the worst part is the way your entire face warms at it, ducking your head shyly like nobody’s ever called you something like that before. Which, horrifyingly enough for Eddie, might actually be true.

Steve’s living room is already loud by the time Eddie gets there.

Robin is halfway through aggressively arguing with Nancy about what movie they’re watching, Steve looks one inconvenience away from death on the couch, and somewhere in the kitchen, Dustin is complaining about the lack of “real snacks” like he personally funds the grocery shopping. 

It’s warm inside the Harrington house, all yellow lighting and cluttered blankets draped over the couch cushions, the kind of easy domesticity Eddie always feels a little strange stepping into. Then he sees you.

Curled up in the corner of the couch with sock-covered feet tucked beneath you, smiling the second the front door opens.

“Eddie!” you say brightly, like you hadn’t just seen him yesterday at Hellfire. “There’s still space next to me.”

That immediately becomes the worst moment of Eddie’s entire life.

Because there is space next to you, a very obvious space. One you apparently saved for him without thinking twice. Robin notices the way Eddie visibly hesitates in the doorway and has to fake a coughing fit into her sleeve to keep from laughing.

Eddie drops onto the couch beside you with what he hopes resembles casualness. “Well, sweetheart, how thoughtful of you. Saved me from sitting on the crusty Harrington carpet.”

Steve flips him off from the recliner. “You’re lucky you were invited at all.”

You giggle softly at that, and Eddie immediately has to look away from you.

The movie starts eventually, though Eddie barely absorbs any of it. Not when you’re sitting tucked against his side close enough that your knees keep brushing every few minutes. Every time it happens, you murmur a tiny “sorry” under your breath before doing it all over again thirty seconds later, entirely unaware of the psychological warfare you’re inflicting on him.

At some point during the movie, you start reaching into the popcorn bowl in his lap instead of the one on the coffee table. Again, absentmindedly. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world to lean across him every few minutes with your soft perfume surrounding him and your sleeve brushing against his rings.

Eddie thinks he may actually be dying.

“Oh my god, this part is so sad,” you whisper at one point, turning toward him with wide eyes.

Eddie blinks. “Sweetheart, this guy has been on screen for maybe four minutes.”

“I know,” you whisper back earnestly. “But look at him.”

And Christ.

That’s another thing about you, you care about everything. Movie characters with three lines. Stray cats behind Melvald’s. Random kids crying in the grocery store. You move through the world with this unbearable softness that makes Eddie feel simultaneously protective and completely ruined by you.

About halfway through the movie, the room cools enough that you quietly reach for the blanket bunched beside Eddie’s leg. He lifts it automatically to help you pull it over yourself, only for you to immediately lift one side toward him too.

“You’ll get cold,” you murmur.

Eddie stares at you for a beat too long before slowly ducking beneath the blanket beside you. Across the room, Robin physically presses her lips together to stop herself from making a noise. Then, somehow, things get worse. Because sometime during the second movie, you get sleepy.

Eddie notices it in little ways first. The slower blinking, the way your words trail off halfway through comments. Eventually, your head tips sideways against his shoulder so naturally that it almost seems unconscious.

The entire room goes quiet for exactly two seconds. Not because of you, but because Eddie completely freezes.

You don’t even realize what you’ve done at first, already half-asleep against him beneath the blanket. Then your eyes blink open slightly, face warming the tiniest bit when you realize where you’re leaning.

“Oh,” you mumble softly. “Is this okay?”

Eddie thinks his heart physically hurts.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, sweetheart. ‘Course it is.”

You smile at that. Small and sleepy and trusting. Then your eyes drift shut again against his shoulder like there was never a possibility he’d say no. Robin watches Eddie very carefully after that. Specifically, the way he doesn’t move for the next hour, not even once.

By the time the movie ends, you’ve wandered into the kitchen with Nancy to help clean up empty soda cans while Dustin argues with Steve over something stupid in the dining room. Eddie is still sitting on the couch like he’s recovering from a near-death experience when Robin drops into the seat beside him.

“You are so unbelievably into her,” she says immediately.

Eddie scoffs without looking at her. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit. You looked at her like a Victorian man seeing an ankle.”

That finally gets a reluctant snort out of him. Robin grins, leaning back into the couch cushions. “She likes you too, y’know.”

Eddie’s expression changes instantly. “No, she doesn’t.” The response comes too fast. 

Robin’s face softens slightly beneath the teasing. “Eddie—”

“She’s nice to everybody,” he cuts in quietly, eyes flicking toward the hallway where you disappeared moments ago. “That’s just who she is.”

And maybe that’s the problem, because Eddie knows what people like him do to things that are soft.

Friday afternoon sunlight spills warm through the hallway windows, catching against Eddie’s face as he leans against the lockers outside your classroom like he’s been there a while, pretending not to wait for you.

Which is exactly what he’s been doing.

You almost miss him at first while stuffing books into your bag, too focused on making sure Dustin remembered his science worksheet this morning. It’s only when someone whistles obnoxiously down the hall, and Eddie flips them off without even turning around, that your eyes finally land on him.

And immediately, your stomach does something strange. Not bad, strange, just strange. Because Eddie’s looking at you already.

Not casually either. His dark eyes lock onto yours the second you notice him, and for a moment, he looks almost nervous, which feels impossible considering this is Eddie. Eddie, who performs lunch table monologues and flirts with teachers for extra credit, acts like the entire world is his stage.

You smile anyway.

“There she is,” he says, pushing off the lockers.

“Hi,” you answer softly, adjusting the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder. “Were you waiting for someone?”

Eddie actually laughs at that.

“Sweetheart,” he says, stepping closer, “you are genuinely killin’ me.”

Your brows pull together a little. “What?”

“Nothin’.” He shakes his head, grinning to himself before dragging his rings along the back of his neck. Suddenly, he looks oddly uncertain again. “Uh… actually, I was waitin’ for you.”

“Oh.” The word comes out quieter than you mean for it to.

The hallway around you buzzes with noise, lockers slamming and people shoving past each other on their way outside, but it suddenly feels very far away. Eddie shifts his weight once, eyes flicking over your face like he’s trying to gauge something.

Then he says, “You wanna go out with me tonight?”

“You mean…” You blink once. “Like a date?”

Eddie’s mouth twitches slightly. “Yeah, sweetheart. Like a date.”

And maybe it’s embarrassing how fast your face warms.

Not because you don’t want to go. God, you do. You think maybe you’ve wanted to for longer than you realized. It’s just that nobody’s ever looked at you quite like Eddie is right now, all careful confidence hiding something softer underneath. 

“Okay,” you say before you can overthink it.

Eddie stills. “Okay?”

You smile a little shyly. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”

For a second, Eddie genuinely looks stunned.

Then the slowest grin spreads across his face, crooked and warm and so unfairly pretty that you have to glance down at your shoes for a second just to collect yourself.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, mostly to himself.

You laugh softly. “What?”

“There’s that thing again where you say yes to me like I just asked if you wanted a pencil instead of—” He cuts himself off with another disbelieving shake of his head. “Tonight. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeats, like he still can’t believe it.

He walks backward down the hallway afterward, still grinning at you in this helpless sort of way, before finally turning toward the exit. You stand there for a moment after he disappears, your heartbeat feeling strangely uneven beneath your ribs.

Then, naturally, you go find Robin.

She’s already behind the Family Video counter when you walk in later that afternoon, lazily rewinding tapes with Steve half-asleep beside her. The second she sees your face, her eyes narrow suspiciously.

“What happened?”

You blink. “Nothing happened.”

“That is not a nothing face.”

Steve lifts his head slightly from the counter. “What’s a nothing face?”

Robin points at you dramatically. “That face. That’s the face girls make before they tell you life-altering information.”

Your cheeks warm immediately. “It’s not life-altering.”

“Oh my god,” Robin gasps. “You kissed someone.”

“What? No!”

Steve snorts tiredly into the counter. Robin leans forward. “Then what?”

You hesitate for half a second before saying quietly, “Eddie asked me on a date.”

Then Robin slams both palms onto the counter so hard Steve nearly falls out of his chair. “I KNEW IT.”

Your face warms instantly beneath her stare. Steve looks significantly more awake now, too, blinking between the two of you while Robin points at you like you’ve personally validated her entire worldview.

“I told you he liked her,” she says to Steve.

Steve shrugs. “I mean, yeah. The guy looks at her like she personally invented music.”

“Oh my god,” you mumble, covering your face briefly with your sleeve.

Robin immediately softens at that, grinning as she leans her elbows onto the counter. “Aw, honey, don’t look embarrassed. This is cute.”

Cute. The word alone makes your stomach flutter strangely.

You glance down shyly, tracing your thumb along the strap of your bag. “It’s just a date.”

“Mhm,” Robin hums knowingly. “And what exactly are we wearing to this very casual, definitely-not-important date?”

You blink. “I don’t know yet.”

Steve finally sits up straighter. “Wait, hold on. Tonight tonight?”

You nod once. Robin gasps dramatically. “Oh, this is serious.”

“It is not serious,” you protest immediately. 

Robin’s expression turns fond in that way it sometimes does around you, all teasing melting into something softer. “Sweetie, he stood outside your classroom looking nervous and was a statue when you fell asleep on him. You’ve altered his brain chemistry.”

You hide your face again with a quiet groan while Steve laughs under his breath.

“I’m serious,” Robin continues. “I have literally never seen him act normal around anybody he’s interested in.”

Before you can answer, Robin suddenly narrows her eyes. “Wait. Have you even been on a date before?”

You hesitate just long enough for her to gasp. “Oh, my god.”

“It’s not a big deal,” you say quickly.

Steve blinks at you. “Like… ever?”

You shrug awkwardly. “I don’t know. Nobody’s really asked.”

Robin and Steve share a look over your head that feels deeply loaded.

“What?” you ask suspiciously.

Robin shakes her head slowly. “Nothing. I just think half the male population of Hawkins is profoundly stupid.”

You laugh quietly at that, cheeks still warm. “You guys are making this sound way more dramatic than it is.”

Robin reaches over the counter to squeeze your hand once. “No, honey. We’re making it sound exactly as dramatic as it is.”

By seven o’clock, your bedroom looks like a small tornado passed through it.

Not because you’re trying overly hard, exactly. More because every outfit suddenly feels wrong the second you put it on. Robin’s teasing voice still echoes faintly in your head every time you glance in the mirror.

"Eddie Munson stood outside your classroom, nervous."

Which is ridiculous, Eddie doesn’t get nervous. However, your stomach has been fluttering stupidly for the last hour anyway.

Eventually, you settle on something simple. Something that still feels like you. Soft sweater, jeans that fit nicely, a little lip gloss Nancy once insisted you’d “thank her for later.” By the time you finally step out of your bedroom, the house is quiet except for the television murmuring faintly from the living room.

Dustin is sprawled across the couch with a bowl of cereal balanced on his stomach despite the fact it’s fully evening. He glances up absentmindedly at first.

His entire face lights up. “Whoa.”

You immediately laugh nervously. “What?”

“You look pretty.”

The sincerity in his voice catches you slightly off guard. Dustin sits up straighter on the couch, grinning at you in a way that suddenly reminds you painfully that he’s still your little brother underneath all the dramatics and endless talking.

“You really think so?”

“Duh.” He gestures vaguely with his spoon. “Eddie’s gonna freak out.”

Your cheeks warm instantly. “Dustin.”

“What? He likes you like… aggressively.”

You laugh softly despite yourself, smoothing your hands nervously over your sleeves. “Robin said the same thing.”

“Because it’s true,” Dustin says, like it’s obvious. “He talks about you all the time.”

That makes you blink. “He does?”

“Oh my god,” Dustin groans, dropping back dramatically against the couch cushions. “You seriously have no idea, do you?”

Before you can answer, headlights sweep briefly across the front window.

Dustin sits bolt upright immediately. “He’s here.”

Dustin notices your expression and grins even wider. “You’re nervous.”

“I am not.”

“You are,” he says delightedly. “This is amazing.”

Then there’s a knock at the door, and your heartbeat feels too loud. Dustin looks between you and the front door with poorly concealed excitement before jumping up from the couch first.

“Oh, I’m answering it.”

“Dustin—”

Too late. He yanks the front door open with the energy of a child on Christmas morning.

Eddie’s standing on the porch in dark jeans and his leather jacket, curls slightly messy like he’s been dragging nervous hands through them. 

He’s holding a small bouquet of flowers that look suspiciously like they came from the little stand outside Melvald’s, and for once in his life, Eddie Munson actually seems unsure of himself.

Then his eyes land on you behind Dustin, and he completely forgets how to speak. Dustin looks back and forth between the two of you with visible delight.

“Oh my god,” he whispers dramatically. “He is freaking out.”

Eddie blinks once like he’s rebooting. “Henderson, I will kill you.”

“You brought flowers,” Dustin says smugly.

Eddie ignores him entirely, still staring at you in a way that makes your chest feel warm all over again. “Hi, sweetheart.”

“Hi.” The word comes out softer than you intended.

Eddie swallows once. Then, very carefully, he holds the flowers out toward you. “These are for you.”

“Be home by ten!” Dustin calls dramatically as Eddie leads you back toward the van.

You pause halfway down the walkway. “Since when do you give me a curfew?”

“Since now,” he says importantly, leaning against the front doorframe. “And no funny business.”

Eddie scoffs loudly without looking back. “You are literally fifteen.”

“And wiser than both of you combined.”

You laugh softly under your breath as Eddie opens the passenger door for you with an exaggerated bow. 

“Goodbye, Dustin.”

“GOODBYE. BE SAFE. DON’T GET PREGNANT.”

“Oh my god,” you groan, face burning as Eddie bursts into helpless laughter beside you.

The front door slams shut before you can retaliate further.

“Your brother is insane.”

“You encourage him.”

“Because he’s funny.”

“He’s awful.”

Eddie laughs again as the van rumbles to life beneath you. The sound settles warmly through the small space alongside the radio's quiet static, and for a little while, things feel easy. 

Eddie drums his fingers against the steering wheel while he drives one-handed, occasionally glancing over at you with this small private smile that makes your stomach flutter every single time.

It isn’t until he pulls into the overlook outside town later that night that things start to shift.

The place is mostly empty this late, only a couple of scattered cars parked beneath the dark stretch of sky overlooking Hawkins. “This okay?” he asks.

You nod immediately. “Yeah. It’s pretty up here.”

Eddie’s eyes linger on your face for a second too long before he looks away again with a quiet hum. “Yeah,” he says softly. “It is.”

Then, after a moment, he reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a crumpled pack of cigarettes.

You watch absentmindedly as he taps one loose and settles it between his lips, the flame from his lighter briefly illuminating the sharp lines of his face in warm orange. Smoke curls slowly into the night air once he exhales. 

You don’t know why you ask. Maybe curiosity, maybe because everything about Eddie feels a little intoxicating lately.

“Can I try one?”

Eddie freezes mid-exhale. Slowly, he turns toward you. “What?”

You shrug a little, suddenly oddly shy beneath the intensity of his stare. “Just once.”

For a second, he just looks at you. “You’ve never smoked before.”

It isn’t a question. You shake your head once. “No.”

Eddie lets out the faintest breath through his nose, eyes dragging away toward the windshield for a moment. His rings tap softly against the cigarette resting between his fingers.

And maybe this is exactly the kind of thing everyone in Hawkins expects from him. Corrupting nice girls in parked vans late at night. The thought should probably make him feel guilty. Instead, all he can think about is the way you’re looking at him right now, all soft curiosity and trust.

“Sweetheart,” he says slowly, “you really shouldn’t ask me things like that.”

Your brows pull together slightly. “Why?”

Eddie glances back at you then, dark eyes unreadable in the low lighting.

“Because,” he says quietly, “I’m probably gonna say yes.”

Before you can overthink it, Eddie sighs softly and shifts closer across the seat, cigarette still balanced between his fingers. “C’mere.”

You lean closer instinctively, knees brushing his in the cramped space between the seats. Eddie watches you the entire time, gaze flicking once toward your mouth before he catches himself.

“This’ll probably taste awful, by the way.”

You smile a little. “You’re really selling it.”

“Just bein’ honest.”

Carefully, he lifts the cigarette toward your lips. And Christ. The sight alone nearly does him in.

You hesitate only briefly before taking a tentative inhale exactly the way he showed you. Almost immediately, your face scrunches up as you start coughing lightly into your sleeve.

Eddie laughs instantly, reaching over to rub a warm hand against your back. “Easy, easy— there she is.”

“That is horrible,” you rasp between coughs, eyes watering slightly.

“I did warn you.”

You’re still laughing softly at yourself when you finally glance back up at him, only to realize how close he is now. For a moment, neither of you moves.

The cigarette burns slowly between Eddie’s fingers, forgotten entirely now as his eyes stay fixed on yours. You can still feel the warmth of his hand through your sweater, where it rests against your back. Though the look on his face is becoming significantly less careful by the second.

“You okay?” he asks quietly.

You nod once.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Your voice comes out softer than usual, and Eddie notices immediately. 

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters under his breath, almost to himself, dragging his eyes away from your mouth with visible effort.

His hand slips from your back only so he can lean farther into the seat, head tipping briefly against it like he’s trying to regain control of his own thoughts.

You watch him for a second before smiling slightly. “What?”

Eddie laughs once, but there’s no real humor in it. “You have genuinely no idea what you do to me, huh?”

Your stomach flips hard enough to make you glance away. Not because you don’t understand what he means, you do.

Maybe not fully, or with the same confidence other girls seem to have, but you understand enough to feel the tension thickening between you now. The difference is you’re not afraid of it, not with him.

“You make me nervous, too,” you admit quietly.

That gets Eddie’s attention instantly. His head turns toward you again, curls falling slightly into his eyes. “I do?”

You nod, fingers fidgeting lightly in your lap. “You always look at me like you’re thinking something.”

Eddie goes very still. Because he is, constantly.

And suddenly, he’s picturing every single filthy thought he’s had about you over the last few weeks while you sat beside him smiling sweetly like you trusted him with your whole heart.

Every moment, he’s imagined pulling you into his lap, kissing you until you forgot your own name, hearing soft sounds fall from your mouth, all because of him.

Dangerous thoughts, especially about someone like you.

“You really wanna know what I’m thinking?” he asks finally, voice lower now.

The question sends heat crawling up your neck. Still, you nod.

Eddie studies your face for another long second. Then he leans closer again, slowly enough for you to stop him if you want to. You don’t.

“You sit next to me,” he murmurs, eyes flicking between yours and your mouth, “lookin’ all pretty and sweet all the time, and you don’t even realize what it does to me.”

Your breath catches quietly. 

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, almost pained, “I’m trying my best here not to ruin you.”

The word ruin sends a pulse of heat low in your stomach. His gaze darkens immediately at your reaction.

“There she is,” he says quietly, almost pleased. “That got your attention.”

Your face burns. “Eddie…”

“What?” he asks innocently, though there’s nothing innocent about him anymore. “You asked.”

You should probably tell him to stop. Instead, you whisper, “Keep talking.”

Eddie actually closes his eyes briefly at that. When he opens them again, his face slips into something soft, following something dangerous. Like the restraint he’s been clinging to all night is finally beginning to slip.

“You’re trouble,” he murmurs.

You laugh nervously. “I thought you were supposed to be the bad influence.”

“Oh, trust me, doll.” Eddie’s hand slides slowly along your knee, warm and deliberate enough to make your pulse jump. “I am.”

The touch alone feels impossibly intimate. Not because it’s inappropriate, not because it’s even that scandalous. But because it’s Eddie.

Because he’s touching you like he’s trying very hard not to scare you away while simultaneously imagining a thousand worse things.

“You know what the worst part is?” he asks quietly.

You shake your head once.

“I don’t even think you mean to do it.”

His thumb brushes absentmindedly against your knee, and you swear he notices the exact second your breathing changes.

“You smile at me,” he continues softly, “sit close to me, remember little details that nobody should remember… and every time you do, I think maybe this is the moment I finally lose my mind.”

Your heart is pounding so hard now you’re convinced he can hear it. Especially when his eyes drop once more toward your mouth.

Eddie’s thumb is still stroking slow circles over your knee, his dark eyes locked on your mouth like he’s starving for it. You can barely breathe.

“Eddie…” you whisper, not sure what you’re even asking for.

He lets out a shaky breath, like your voice alone is undoing him. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

You don’t answer with words. Instead, you lean in the last few inches and press your lips to his: soft, uncertain, barely a kiss at all, more like a gentle brush. 

Eddie freezes for half a second, then groans low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth. His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck, careful, as he tilts his head and kisses you back properly, like he’s teaching you how good it can feel.

You make a tiny surprised sound when his tongue traces your bottom lip, and he pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing hard.

“Easy, baby,” he murmurs, voice rough. “We can stop anytime. Just tell me.”

“I don’t want to stop,” you whisper, cheeks burning. Your hands are trembling as you reach up and curl your fingers into his jacket. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut like the words physically pain him. “You’re gonna kill me, you know that?”

He kisses you again, deeper this time, guiding you with gentle pressure until your mouth opens for him. The slide of his tongue against yours makes heat pool low in your belly, unfamiliar and overwhelming.

You try to match him, tentative and sweet, and when you shyly suck on his tongue, he makes a broken noise and pulls you closer across the seat.

He pants against your lips while his hand stays gentle on your neck, thumb stroking your jaw, but his other hand grips the edge of the seat like he’s holding himself back from devouring you.

You kiss him harder, braver now, and he rewards you with a soft moan that goes straight between your legs. When you accidentally graze his bottom lip with your teeth, something you’ve only ever seen in movies, he jerks, fingers tightening in your hair.

Eventually, he pulls back, eyes dark, lips swollen. “Back of the van?” he asks, almost hesitant. “Only if you want. We don’t have to—”

You nod before he can finish, heart hammering. “I want to. With you.”

Eddie helps you climb through to the back, spreading out the blankets he keeps there like he’s making a nest for you. He lays you down so gently it makes your chest ache, then settles over you on his elbows, careful not to crush you.

“Look at me, baby,” he says softly, brushing hair from your face. “We go as slow as you need. Tell me if anything hurts or feels weird, okay? Promise me.”

“I promise,” you whisper, reaching up to touch his cheek.

He kisses you again, slower, deeper, until you’re squirming beneath him.

His hands stay respectful at first, stroking your sides and waist, until you arch into him and he finally slides one under your sweater. The warmth of his palm on your bare skin makes you gasp.

“So soft,” he murmurs against your neck, kissing down the column of your throat. “So fucking perfect.”

You’re trembling when he helps you out of your sweater and bra, but not from fear. Eddie looks at you like you’re something holy, eyes reverent as he cups your breasts, thumbs brushing your nipples until they tighten.

“Eddie—” Your voice breaks on his name when he leans down and takes one into his mouth, gentle suction and slow flicks of his tongue. You’ve never felt anything like it. Your hands fly to his hair, gripping curls, and he groans in approval.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Hold onto me.”

He works you open with patient fingers later, after your jeans and panties are gone, whispering praise the whole time.

“Relax for me, baby… just like that. Good girl. So wet already, fuck. All for me?”

You nod frantically, hips twitching. When he curls his fingers just right, you cry out, shocked by the sharp burst of pleasure.

“There?” he asks, voice low and pleased. He does it again, watching your face. “Yeah? You like that?”

You can barely speak, just whimper and nod. He keeps talking you through it, gentle but filthy, until you’re shaking apart on his fingers with a broken little moan.

He kisses you through it, then rests his forehead against yours while he rolls on a condom. “You sure, sweetheart? We can stop right here. I’d be happy just making you come all night.”

You shake your head, pulling him closer. “I want you. Please, Eddie.”

He enters you so slowly it almost hurts, a combination of pain and how careful he’s being, how full you feel. He stops every inch, murmuring against your temple.

“Breathe, baby. That’s it… doing so good for me. So tight—fuck, you feel incredible. Breathe, okay?”

When he bottoms out, you both moan. He stays still, buried deep, kissing you softly until the stretch eases into something warm and aching and good.

“Move,” you whisper, nails digging into his back. “Please.”

He rocks into you gently at first, then a little deeper when you start lifting your hips to meet him. Every thrust is measured, his voice a constant low rumble in your ear; praise, dirty little observations, encouragement.

“Look at you taking me so well… my sweet girl. Never thought I’d get to have you like this.”

You get bolder as it builds, wrapping your legs around his waist, experimentally clenching around him. Eddie’s rhythm falters.

“Shit—baby, do that again.”

You do, shy but eager, and he groans like he’s dying. On impulse, you tilt your head and bite his shoulder. Not hard, but just enough to leave a mark. Eddie curses loudly, his hips snapping forward harder for a second before he catches himself.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me lose it,” he laughs breathlessly, kissing you deep.

He reaches between you and rubs your clit in tight circles, voice growing rougher as you both get close.

“Come on, baby. Let me feel you. Want you to come on my cock—yeah, just like that. Good girl. So good for me.”

You shatter with his name on your lips, clenching around him so hard his thrusts turn erratic. He follows right after, burying his face in your neck as he comes with a broken moan, hips jerking.

Afterward, he stays inside you for a long moment, stroking your hair, pressing soft kisses to your flushed face.

“You okay?” he whispers, voice tender. “Did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, smiling shyly as you nuzzle into him. “It was perfect. You were perfect.”

Eddie laughs softly, pulling the blanket over both of you. “Yeah? Even when I almost lost my mind because you bit me?”

Eddie’s arm is wrapped carefully around your waist, fingers absentmindedly tracing slow patterns against your skin like he can’t stop touching you now that he’s allowed to. Not that you mind.

Your head rests against his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowly come back down while his other hand plays gently with your hair. Every few seconds, he presses absent little kisses to the top of your head like he’s doing it unconsciously, like affection simply spills out of him naturally around you.

You feel him shift slightly beneath you after a minute, enough that you tilt your chin up to look at him. He’s already staring down at you, dark curls messy, lips slightly swollen, expression somewhere between completely wrecked and deeply concerned.

“…You sure you’re okay?” he asks again quietly.

The question makes your chest ache a little. Not because it’s upsetting, but because he sounds genuinely nervous about it.

You smile softly almost immediately. “Yeah.”

Eddie studies your face carefully anyway, like he’s searching for any sign you don’t mean it. “Yeah?” he repeats.

“Mhm.”

“You promise?”

A quiet laugh leaves you then, small and sleepy and warm from where you’re curled against him. “Eddie.”

“What?” he says defensively, though his hand tightens slightly around your waist. “I’m serious.”

“I know.” Your fingers drift lazily along the chain around his neck while you look up at him. “I’m okay.”

Eddie exhales slowly through his nose, tension visibly easing from his shoulders. “Jesus Christ,” he mutters, mostly to himself.

You smile a little wider. “You say that a lot.”

“That’s because you keep doin’ things that make me need divine intervention.”

Your laugh this time is brighter, and Eddie immediately looks at you like he’s just won something.

There’s still this almost disbelieving softness in his expression now, like he hasn’t fully processed that this actually happened. That you happened. 

“You’re thinkin’ too hard,” you murmur.

His mouth twitches slightly. “Can you blame me?”

You shrug a little against him. “Maybe.”

“Sweetheart,” he says quietly, brushing his knuckles gently along your cheek, “you trusted me with your first time. I think I’m allowed to spiral a little.”

Heat blooms softly across your face at the words.

“You’re really okay?” he asks one more time, softer now.

You nod against him. “Yeah.”

Then, after a tiny pause: “It was nice.”

Eddie goes completely still underneath you. Slowly, he lifts his head enough to stare down at you properly. “Nice?”

You blink innocently. “Yeah.”

A laugh bursts out of him so suddenly it startles you.

“Baby,” he says through his grin, “I am never letting you describe that as nice again.”

Your face warms instantly as you hide it against his chest with a groan, and Eddie just laughs harder, wrapping both arms around you tighter while pressing another kiss into your hair.

“There she is,” he murmurs fondly. “My sweet girl.”

The next morning feels strangely dreamy. Not in some dramatic life-changing way.

Dustin is still loudly arguing with the television before noon, the neighbor’s dog still won’t stop barking, and Hawkins still looks exactly the same outside your bedroom window.

Every time your mind drifts back to the night before, heat creeps slowly up your neck all over again. Eddie’s hands on your waist. The sound of his voice going rough when you kissed him back. The way he kept checking in afterward, like your comfort mattered more to him than anything else in the world.

You think maybe that’s your favorite part. Not the sex itself, though that had certainly been overwhelming in ways you’re still trying to process. It’s the fact that Eddie held you afterward like something precious.

The phone rings around two in the afternoon. You perk up instantly from your spot sprawled on the living room carpet, flipping through a magazine. Dustin glances over from the couch suspiciously while you practically scramble for it.

“Hello?”

A small pause. Then: “Hey, sweetheart.”

Your stomach flips immediately. You smile before you can help it, curling the phone cord loosely around your finger. “Hi.”

Eddie goes quiet for a second on the other end, like maybe hearing your voice affected him too much. When he speaks again, there’s a smile tucked into his words.

“How’re you feelin’ today?”

Warmth floods your face instantly. “I’m okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

Another tiny pause. “Good.”

From the couch, Dustin narrows his eyes. “Is that Eddie?”

You wave him off blindly while Eddie snorts quietly through the phone. “Your brother sounds possessive.”

“He’s nosy.”

“I heard that,” Dustin calls loudly.

You laugh softly, and Eddie goes quiet again for half a second in that way he keeps doing now, like hearing you laugh still catches him off guard.

“So,” he says eventually, voice lower now, easier. “I was wonderin’ if maybe you wanted to come to the Hideout tonight.”

“The bar?”

“Mm.” You can practically hear him lighting a cigarette through the phone. “Thought maybe I could buy you a drink. Since you’re all grown up now.”

Your face burns instantly. “Eddie.”

“What?” he asks innocently. “You are.”

You tuck your hair behind your ear shyly despite the fact that he can’t see you. “I’ve never been to the Hideout before.”

“I know.”

And for some reason, the way he says it sends warmth straight through you again. Like he enjoys being the first person to show you these things. 

“Only if you want to,” he adds after a second, softer this time. “No pressure.”

You smile immediately at that. “I wanna go.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Eddie exhales quietly through his nose, almost sounding relieved. “Alright, sweetheart. I’ll come get you around eight.”

“Okay.”

There’s another pause afterward that stretches warm and comfortable between you both. Then Eddie says, quieter now, “Missed you today.”

Your heart stutters embarrassingly hard. “Oh.”

A soft laugh crackles through the receiver. “There’s that little sound again.”

“What sound?”

“The one you make when I say somethin’ that gets in your head.”

You duck your face instinctively, even though he still can’t see you. From the couch, Dustin groans dramatically. “You are smiling so weird right now.”

The Hideout smells faintly like cigarettes, beer, and old wood, the second Eddie pushes the door open for you.

It’s darker inside than you expected, lit mostly by warm amber lights strung lazily behind the bar and the colored glow from an old neon beer sign buzzing softly in the corner. A band is setting up near the tiny stage in the back while people crowd around sticky tables, laughing too loudly over the music humming through the speakers.

His hand settles lightly against the small of your back, warmth through your shirt as he leans closer so you can hear him over the noise. “You okay, sweetheart?”

You glance up at him and smile. “Yeah. It’s just different than I expected.”

Eddie grins. “What, you thought it’d be glamorous?”

“A little.”

“Aw, honey.” He nudges you gently toward the bar. “This place barely passes health inspection.”

You laugh softly under your breath, and Eddie’s expression immediately softens at the sound like it always does now. There’s still something almost disbelieving in the way he looks at you tonight, like he can’t quite process that you came here with him willingly. That you’re sitting beside him at the Hideout, of all places. 

The bartender greets Eddie immediately as soon as you slide onto the stools. “Munson.”

“Hey, Frank.”

Then Frank notices you beside him, one brow lifting slowly.

Eddie catches it instantly. “Don’t start.”

Frank smirks knowingly before wiping down the counter. “Wouldn’t dream of it. What can I get you two?”

Eddie glances sideways at you thoughtfully for a second, tapping his rings lightly against the bartop. “Lemme get a beer…”

Then his eyes flick back toward you again, something amused flickering there.

“And a Dirty Shirley for her.”

You blink. “How did you know that’s what I’d like?”

Eddie shrugs casually, though the corner of his mouth twitches upward. “You just seem like a Dirty Shirley kinda girl.”

The answer makes you laugh softly. And for some reason, Eddie looks absurdly pleased with himself over that. When the drinks arrive a minute later, you eye yours curiously before taking a cautious sip through the straw.

Immediately, your face brightens. “Oh, this is good.”

Eddie snorts into his beer. “Yeah, because it’s basically candy.”

You narrow your eyes playfully. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Nah.” His gaze drifts slowly over your face again, softer now. “Kinda fits you, actually.”

Heat creeps up your neck at the way he says it. You glance down shyly at your drink while Eddie leans one elbow onto the bar beside you, watching you with open fondness now that nobody from school is around to see it.

“You nervous?” he asks after a moment.

“A little.”

“About bein’ here?”

You shrug slightly. “I guess.”

Eddie hums quietly, eyes flicking around the crowded bar before settling back on you. “Nobody’s gonna bother you while you’re with me.”

The words shouldn’t affect you as much as they do. Maybe it’s the confidence in his voice. Maybe it’s the fact that he says it so naturally, like protecting you is already instinct.

Or maybe it’s just Eddie.

“Good,” you say softly before taking another sip.

Eddie goes suspiciously quiet beside you, and you glance over. “What?”

His eyes drag slowly from your lips back up to your face.

“Nothin’, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “You just look real pretty sittin’ here.”

The music hums warmly through your chest now instead of pounding against it, and the second Dirty Shirley Eddie absolutely did not need to buy you has left your cheeks pleasantly warm. You’re leaning closer to him without thinking anymore, your knee pressed between his, where he sits angled toward you at the bar like the rest of the room barely exists.

Eddie’s halfway through telling you some ridiculous story about Gareth nearly setting a school amplifier on fire when you start laughing hard enough to grab onto his arm.

And that completely derails him.

He loses his train of thought instantly, eyes dropping to your hand wrapped around his forearm before slowly flicking back up toward your face. You’re still smiling at him, all sweet and tipsy, entirely unaware of the effect you have on him.

“Why’d you stop talking?” you ask.

Eddie blinks once. “You’re pretty distracting, sweetheart.”

Your face warms immediately.

“There she is,” he murmurs fondly into his beer.

Eventually, the bar starts getting louder as more people crowd in, conversations overlapping with the music until Eddie notices you beginning to glance around, slightly overwhelmed. 

His hand settles instinctively against your knee beneath the bar. “You wanna get outta here?”

You look back at him immediately. “Yeah.”

Eddie studies your face carefully for a second before asking softer, “Wanna come back to my place?”

And maybe it should feel more scandalous than it does. Instead, all you feel is warm trust settling low in your chest when you nod. “Okay.”

The drive to the trailer park is quiet in the nicest way.

One of Eddie’s tapes plays softly through the van speakers while warm night air drifts through the cracked windows. Your head rests lazily against the seat as streetlights pass over Eddie’s face every few seconds, catching the silver of his rings against the steering wheel.

He keeps glancing at you, not subtly either. Every time you catch him, he smiles crookedly to himself before looking back at the road.

By the time he parks outside the trailer, you’re pleasantly floaty enough that you don’t even think twice before following him up the steps. The trailer is dim and familiar from all the times you’ve picked Dustin up after Hellfire. Eddie immediately tosses his keys onto the counter before turning toward you.

“You want somethin’ to drink?”

You shake your head slightly before your eyes catch the cigarette pack sticking halfway out of his jacket pocket.

“…Can I try another one?”

Eddie actually laughs softly under his breath. “You are trouble.”

You smile innocently. “You said that already.”

“Yeah, well.” His eyes drag slowly over your face again. “Still true.”

This time, when he pulls a cigarette loose and lights it, you step closer before he even asks. Eddie notices immediately, something dark and pleased flickering briefly across his expression before he tamps it down.

“C’mere then, sweetheart.”

The pet name lands warm in your stomach now.

You lean in slightly while Eddie lifts the cigarette toward your mouth again, two fingers resting carefully beneath your chin to angle your face upward. The touch alone feels unfairly intimate, especially when his eyes stay fixed on your lips the entire time.

“That’s it,” he murmurs softly as you inhale carefully.

This time, you barely cough, and Eddie’s brows lift immediately. “Well, look at that.”

You laugh lightly through the smoke, a little proud of yourself despite how ridiculous that probably is.

Meanwhile, Eddie looks devastatingly fond. “That’s my girl,” he says quietly.

Your face flushes even more now, like that’s even possible. 

“You like it when I say stuff like that, huh?” he asks gently.

You glance down shyly. “Maybe.”

His grin turns downright dangerous. “Jesus Christ.”

Then, before you can recover from that, Eddie disappears briefly toward his bedroom area. You hear drawers opening for a second before he returns holding something glass and obnoxiously large in one hand.

You blink. “What’s that?”

“A bong.”

Your expression must give you away because Eddie immediately laughs. “Relax, sweetheart. It’s just weed.”

“I know what weed is.”

“Mhm.” He drops onto the couch cushions beside you, smirking slightly. “And yet you looked at it like a church girl.”

You nudge his shoulder lightly while he chuckles to himself, already packing it with practiced familiarity. Then he glances sideways at you.

“You wanna try?” There’s no pressure in his voice, just some boyish curiosity.

You hesitate briefly before nodding. “Okay.”

Eddie’s expression softens instantly into something almost unbearably affectionate. “Attagirl.”

Heat floods your face again.

A few minutes later, you’re sitting tucked against his side while he guides you through it patiently, one hand steady against your waist while the other helps position your fingers correctly.

“Slow,” he murmurs. “Yeah, just like that.”

You follow his instructions carefully, trying not to focus too hard on the fact that his mouth is barely inches from yours right now. The hit burns less than the cigarette but still catches in your throat enough to make you cough lightly against his shoulder afterward.

Eddie laughs warmly, rubbing your back. “That wasn’t too bad!”

“You make everything sound embarrassing.”

“That’s because everything you do is cute.”

Your face immediately buries against his shoulder while he laughs harder, wrapping an arm around you automatically like he can’t help himself anymore.

By the time the second hit settles in properly, you are absolutely gone.

You’re not panicking or dizzy or anything nightmare-inducing. Everything just suddenly feels unbelievably funny and soft all at once, like the entire trailer has been wrapped in warm cotton. The music playing quietly from Eddie’s radio sounds deeper somehow, and you cannot stop giggling every time he looks at you.

Which he keeps doing, constantly.

“You good there, sweetheart?” he asks from beside you, trying very hard not to laugh himself.

You stare at him for a second too long before nodding very seriously. “Your eyelashes are really pretty.”

That immediately breaks him. Eddie doubles over laughing, one hand covering his mouth while the other stays loosely around your waist to keep you upright, where you’re practically folded into his side on the couch.

“Oh my god,” he wheezes. “You’re high as a kite.”

You gasp softly like he’s offended you. “No, I’m not.”

“You just complimented my eyelashes like you discovered religion.”

“They are pretty.”

That only makes him laugh harder.

You narrow your eyes at him for approximately two seconds before dissolving into giggles, too, burying your face against his shoulder. Eddie wraps both arms around you automatically, then, still shaking slightly with laughter, he presses a kiss into your hair.

“Godt,” he murmurs fondly. “You’re adorable.”

You hum happily against him, completely content tucked into his chest while his rings drag lazily along your back.

A few minutes later, you start rambling, not about anything important either. Just whatever pops into your head.

“You know what’s weird?” you mumble suddenly.

“What’s weird?”

“The moon.”

Eddie snorts softly. “The moon.”

“Yeah. It just follows you around all the time. That’s weird behavior.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think the moon has behavior.”

“It does.”

“Mhm.”

You tilt your head up to look at him very seriously. “You smell good.”

Eddie visibly short-circuits for a second. “…Thanks.”

“And your hair is soft.”

“You touched my hair for like three seconds.”

“I know,” you sigh dreamily. “It was nice.”

That’s apparently the final straw. Eddie drops his forehead briefly against the top of your head with a groan. “Baby, you gotta stop sayin’ things like that before I lose my damn mind.”

You just smile at him sweetly, which does not help. Eventually, after you nearly fall asleep sitting upright against him, Eddie gently decides you need to move to the bed before your neck ends up permanently bent at a horrifying angle.

“C’mon, pretty girl.”

You blink sleepily up at him. “Hm?”

“Bedtime.”

The second he slides an arm beneath your knees and lifts you into his arms, you immediately wrap yourself around him with a soft little laugh.

Eddie steadies you against his chest easily, though his expression goes dangerously fond all over again when you instinctively nuzzle closer against his neck.

“You’re comfy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Like a heating pad.”

Eddie nearly walks directly into the wall laughing.

The mattress dips softly beneath you a moment later as he sets you down carefully onto his bed. You immediately starfishing across it in a way that makes him snort affectionately while crouching beside you.

“You wanna sleep in jeans, sweetheart?”

You make a face. “No.”

“Okay.” His voice stays gentle. “Can I help you change then?”

You nod immediately.  That feeling hits Eddie square in the chest every single time.

So he moves slowly. Helping you swap your jeans for a pair of old sweatpants and one of his oversized shirts while you continue mumbling nonsense the entire time.

“Attractive people should legally have warning labels,” you inform him seriously while he helps guide your arm through the sleeve.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. It’s stressful.”

Eddie laughs softly under his breath. “Poor thing.”

“I’m serious.” You squint at him sleepily. “You’re very handsome. It’s distracting.”

He actually stops moving for a second. “Good lord,” he mutters weakly.

“What?”

“Nothin’, baby.”

By the time you’re finally settled beneath the blankets, your eyes are barely staying open anymore. Eddie starts to pull away toward the edge of the bed before soft fingers catch loosely around his wrist.

“Stay.”

Eddie looks down at you for a long second before his entire expression melts. “Yeah, sweetheart,” he says softly, climbing in beside you. “I’m stayin’.”

By Monday morning, half of Hawkins High has already noticed the jacket.

Not because it’s particularly flashy. Eddie’s leather jacket has always looked a little worn around the sleeves, a little too big on you, where it hangs past your fingertips. But everyone knows who it belongs to. Hellfire patches and metal pins tend to stand out in a school full of pastel sweaters and varsity jackets.

You don’t even think much of it at first while standing at your locker between classes, adjusting your books against your hip as Robin practically materializes beside you with the energy of someone spotting celebrity gossip in real time.

“Oh, my god.”

You blink. “What?”

Robin gestures wildly toward your body. “The jacket.”

Your eyes drop downward like you somehow forgot you were wearing it. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Robin repeats incredulously. “That’s Eddie’s jacket.”

You shrug a little, though warmth immediately creeps into your cheeks anyway. “I got cold Saturday.”

“And he let you keep it?”

The way she says it makes you pause. “…Yeah?”

Robin stares at you for a very long moment before muttering, “That man is so far gone.”

You laugh softly under your breath, trying and failing to suppress your smile while Robin watches the entire thing happen in real time.

“Oh, you like him bad too,” she realizes immediately.

“I do not like him bad.”

“Honey, you are literally wearing his jacket. Is that not the universal equivalent of a declaration?”

Before you can answer, someone whistles from farther down the hallway.

You glance up instinctively just in time to see Eddie leaning beside the cafeteria doors, already beaming, looking at you. More specifically, at you in the jacket. The slow grin that spreads across his face afterward is downright unfair.

Robin physically grabs your arm. “Oh, he’s gonna be unbearable now.”

And she’s right. Because Eddie spends the rest of the day looking at you like he won something.

Every time you pass each other in the hallway, his eyes immediately flick toward the oversized sleeves swallowing your hands before dragging slowly back toward your face with a deeply pleased expression. 

At lunch, he hooks two fingers through one of the jacket loops while passing behind your chair and murmurs a quiet, “Looks better on you anyway, sweetheart,” directly into your ear.

You nearly forget how to speak afterward. By the end of the school day, your cheeks hurt from smiling.

Outside, the parking lot buzzes with engines starting and people spilling toward their cars in noisy groups while you make your way down the front steps. And there he is. Leaning against the side of his van with a cigarette resting between his lips, like he’s been waiting a while. The second he notices you walking toward him, his entire face softens.

“Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hi.”

Eddie takes another drag from the cigarette while you stop between his knees, where he’s perched against the van door. “You survive another thrilling academic day?” he asks dryly.

“Barely.”

“Yeah? Tragic.”

You laugh quietly while his eyes drift over your face again, lingering there warm and heavy enough to make your stomach flutter. Then your gaze drops toward the cigarette between his fingers.

A slow smile pulls at his mouth. “What?”

You hesitate briefly before leaning in slightly. “Can I?”

This time, he doesn’t even tease you about it.

He simply lifts the cigarette toward your mouth automatically, eyes fixed steadily on your lips while you lean closer to take a slow drag. The smoke burns less now, familiar enough that you barely cough at all when you exhale.

Eddie watches the entire thing like he’s completely mesmerized.

“Atta’ girl,” he says quietly. The praise settles warm all through you.

Maybe it’s the nicotine. Or the way he’s looking at you. Or the fact that you spent the entire day missing him in a way that feels embarrassing to admit.

But suddenly you just want to kiss him, so you do. You lean forward softly, cigarette smoke still lingering faintly between you as your lips press against his. Eddie makes the quietest sound into your mouth.

His free hand immediately slides against your waist, pulling you closer between his knees while he kisses you back, slower this time, like he’s savoring it. Around you, the parking lot continues moving in noisy blurs, but Eddie kisses you like there’s nobody else there at all.

When you finally pull back slightly, he’s staring at you with completely blown pupils. 

For a second, he just looks at you. Then he lets out a quiet laugh under his breath, thumb brushing absentmindedly along your waist where it’s still holding you close.

“Who are you?” he murmurs, almost disbelieving.

Your face warms instantly. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Eddie grins slowly, eyes flicking toward the cigarette still dangling between his fingers before dragging back to your mouth.

“Couple weeks ago you were apologizing for saying hell in front of teachers,” he says softly. “Now you’re stealin’ drags from my cigarettes and kissing me in the school parking lot.”

Heat blooms all through your chest at the way he says it. Not mocking, something more towards pleased. Like he’s enjoying watching this softer, bolder side of you emerge.

You smile shyly despite yourself. “Maybe you’re a bad influence.”

Eddie actually groans at that, dropping his forehead briefly against your shoulder.

“Sweetheart,” he mutters, “you cannot say things like that to me.”

“Why not?” you ask innocently. 

Eddie’s thumb hooks beneath your chin immediately.

“Because,” he says quietly, voice rough around the edges now, “you say it like you have no idea what you’re doing to me.”

The warmth in your stomach deepens at that familiar tone, at the way he’s looking at you like he’s equal parts obsessed and completely doomed by it. And maybe you do understand a little more now.

Maybe that’s why your smile turns just slightly shy and knowing when you whisper, “Maybe I do.”

Eddie stares at you for half a second like you just physically struck him. Then he laughs softly under his breath, completely gone for you.

“There she is,” he murmurs.

He doesn’t reply with words after that, just hooks his fingers more firmly beneath your chin and drags your mouth back to his.

Eddie kisses like he’s addicted to it already, cigarette smoke still clinging faintly to him while his hand slides warm against your jaw. The parking lot noise fades somewhere far into the background as he tilts his head and kisses you again and again like he can’t help himself anymore.

And when you melt closer against him with a tiny contented sigh, Eddie smiles directly into your mouth, completely, and hopelessly ruined.

badda bing badda boom.

anyyywayyyyy, hope you all enjoyed.... i have a surprise coming at 11pm >:)

taglist is open!!

beebeebeeboop:

@bitterestwillow@kozume-ko, @obsessed-eddie, @doomdabss, @julxsxx, @leelei1980@hexqueensupreme @ches-86 @plaidamoosette @bobiverses@meadows-ofasphodel @whitakerstorm @dreamerjj @sariahs-stuff @brrrainst3w @serendipdipity01 @hypersexytoptobottom @m-art000 @sisteramycatherine @walleloveseve @camsmunson101 @flavorfullstevepeachpuffs25 @abirdinthehouse @m-art000 @micheledawn1975 @whitakerstorm @cciessuzi @blackqueenie-18 @ggdawgg

★

You wake first, still nestled against him, his breathing slow and even as you take stock of your situation. 

Spencer made some choices yesterday. 

Choices that make you want to throttle him.

Calling you sweetheart. 

Kissing you.

Whispering so sweetly to you.

Using his stupid tongue on you and ruining cunilingus from anyone else for you forever. 

The list goes on, how are you supposed to go back to work like this? Although, that’s only a problem if you’re found. 

The whole team is going to see the video. That’s going to be a problem either way.

You can already imagine them huddled around the conference room table with Hotch’s laptop between them. 

You know what, you can worry about that later, that’s only a problem if they find you. 

Of course they’ll find you. 

Hopefully. 

When Spencer wakes it’s with a groan as he cradles the back of his head, still sore from the wound. Rather than cower in shame you decide to just break the silence and speak to him. He’s still your friend, even after yesterday. 

“You didn’t tell me what happened when you were taken, just that you were knocked out.” You recall the unsub being so certain he would be able to get Spencer in the same day as you, it makes no sense when you ponder it. After having an agent taken captive you would assume they would be taking extra measures to ensure no one else was taken. 

When he doesn’t respond you tilt your head to look up at him, only to be met by a sheepish smile. 

“I was… a little careless.” He mumbles, his voice is scratchy and heavy with sleep. 

“When I was alone with him the unsub said I wouldn’t have to wait long for you.” You cock an eyebrow at him.

“We were given multiple tips on the call line JJ setup, there were too many, we all agreed to go down the list until we found a lead. It’s possible that I got a little bit ahead of myself and split off from the group. Before I knew it I was knocked to the ground, and then I was here.”

“Sounds like something I would do.” You grin at him as you sit up, urging him to roll onto his side so you can take another look. It looks better than yesterday, he likely just needs to rinse the dried blood out. “It looks okay, Do you think you have a concussion?” The thought makes your stomach churn. 

”Definietly not, I’m exhibiting no symptoms.” He seems so sure, you can’t help but wonder if that’s just something someone with a concussion would say. 

“I’m just worried you may not be making decisions you would normally make.” Jesus Christ, did you take advantage of him? Is he even in the right state of mind?

Kissing you, calling you sweetheart, tongue fucking you. 

He immediately knows where your train of thought’s headed. 

“I’m fine.”

”Are you absolutely sure?” 

”I have no headache or ringing in my ears, I haven’t vomited. I’m not nauseous, no confusion, no memory loss. I’m not sure if you’re aware but I am a doctor, I would know if I had a concussion.” As he rambles on you lean closer, examining his pupils closely. They appear normal, his greenish brownish eyes study you as you study them. 

“Promise you feel fine?”

”If you’re worried about consent there’s nothing to worry about.” He looks at you incredulously, as if this isn’t a very serious matter.

“Promise?” You tilt your head to the side. 

“I promise I am of sound body and mind.” He holds his hand up like he’s taking an oath. 

After another look at his pupils you believe him, even if he isn’t technically a medical doctor you trust his judgement. 

“How much progress do you think the teams made on the case?” You can’t help but change the subject as your thoughts drift back to your current predicament. 

”I’m sure they’re doing their best but we barely had a profile together by the time you were taken. And with him no longer taking new victims…” You know exactly what he’s implying. 

Typically if you’re on a job and the unsub suddenly stops killing victims you’re taken off the case. Without any evidence you can’t make a functional profile. 

“Not to mention they’re down two profilers.” He mumbles.

“We can expect escalation in his behavior as well.” Even if your compliance keeps him from completely losing it, the behavior will continue to escalate regardless. 

“How are you feeling?” He turns to stare at you, clearly gauging your reaction. 

”About this situation? Not great.” No reason to lie, he knows neither one of you is really okay right now.

”I mean physically.”

”Sore.” Just a little. 

”I’m sorry.” 

He shouldn’t be, he didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have let him do in any other scenario. 

”It’s not your fault, I could say the same thing to you.”

”You really don’t need to.” He shrugs, his concern is still apparent. 

“Spencer.” When you say his name in as firm of a tone as you can muster his face softens a bit. The creases between his eyebrows melt away when he stares at you, you swear the corners of his mouth twitch up. “I’m serious.” You manage to whisper, even though the look in his eyes is knocking the wind out of you. 

“After what I did to you? You really want to know if I’m okay?” He leans in, resting his head on his palm.

When did he get so close to you?

“What you had to do.” You correct him. 

He opens his mouth, a look of confliction flashes across his face. You have no time to further question him because the crackling intercom has you both sitting up straight. 

“Good morning my stars. You would not believe the response to your debut film.” 

Gross. 

“I simply cannot stop thinking about your performance yesterday, even yours Dr. Reid. What a hidden talent.” 

Neither one of you speaks now, what would you even say? After seeing that video the team will assume you’ve been released, just like every other set of victims, how long before they realize what’s going on? 

“I have a surprise for the two of you for such a dazzling performance, I am not a total monster. I want to show you that good behavior is rewarded.” You both flinch when the red door clicks, swinging open. You aren’t sure what you expect but it definitely isn’t what you find. 

There’s nothing. 

No one comes barging in so you both approach cautiously, pulling the door open fully you find not an exit, but a hallway. There is a door at the end of the hallway that you assume is the exit and an open room without a door halfway down the corridor. 

“Since the two of you will be my guests for an extended period of time I thought I might provide some amenities. Although I will expect continued compliance if you wish to have access to the facilities.”

You continue to move with your defenses up but when you lean into the doorway you find a sterile looking well lit bathroom. There’s a toilet, a sink with a mirror above it, and a small standing shower. When you step back out into the hall Spencer is pushing on the other door, you know it’s locked but it doesn’t hurt to check. 

“I have big plans for the day, I would like you both to make yourselves presentable, under the sink you will find a box with water and prepackaged unopened food, for your peace of mind.” You make your way to the sink, crouching down, opening the box you find exactly what he said, along with a stack of folded black fabric. “I have also provided you with fresh clothes. I expect no objections, you wear them or there will be consequences. You are to leave your dirty clothes in the box, except for your tie Dr. Reid, you may keep that in your room.” 

You ignore the clothes, not wanting to see what’s in store for you just yet, instead you take a sandwich and a water, passing them to Spencer. 

“I can see that you are not in a talking mood today, that is okay, I will be back in an hour to start filming our next project, play nice until then.” The click of the intercom makes you relax as you open one of the water bottles, tilting your head back and taking a long swig. 

You’re both on edge knowing what’s coming, the inevitable. Any snippet of a playful rapport you had going this morning has fizzled into nothing. 

“You shower first, I’m gonna go sit for a few minutes.” Spencer breaks the silence before leaving the room without another word. You don’t object, you just turn on the water. Tossing your clothes across the room, trying not to think about the cameras that are likely in this room as well. 

You clear your mind as the hot water rushes over you. Your instinct is to worry, to come up with a plan but the logical part of you knows you should just enjoy this moment of respite as best you can. There is no escape, at least not until your team figures something out. 

You try not to take too long, knowing that Spencer needs a shower too. You turn the water off, reaching for one of the hanging towels before patting yourself dry. 

Time to dare a look at the outfit you’ll be wearing. 

The first thing you pull out is a simple black cotton shirt, followed by dark grey boxers. Likely not yours. 

Below them is a surprisingly tame black camisole. When you pull it over your head it’s skin tight but it definitely could be worse. You aren’t granted as much coverage as boxers but the little black panties aren’t the end of the world, you were expecting hardcore lingerie, leather and spandex, but they’re simple cotton panties. 

When you step out of the bathroom you yelp as you almost trip over Spencer, sitting criss cross on the ground. 

“Sorry!” He stands, holding his hands up.

“You scared the shit out of me.”

“Sorry, I went back to the other room initially but then I was thinking that this might be a set up and if I went in there he could lock and close the door and separate us. And then you’d be alone with him, so I figured it was best to stay here, I was going to tell you but it seemed inappropriate to go in there while you were showering.” He rambles as you nod along, he’s noticeably staring at the ceiling, occasionally his eyes dart down to you before flying back upwards. 

“That’s… actually really sweet. Thanks.” You give him a soft smile as he steps around you into the bathroom, you hear the water running after just a moment so you take a seat right where he was, listening to water hitting the tile as you take another sip from your water bottle. 

You aren’t left alone for long, only a few minutes have passed before the water turns back off as you listen to the sounds of him shuffling around. You stand, not wanting to trip him as well.

When he steps out you find yourself in the same position as him, staring at the ceiling to avoid gawking. Just like you his top is tight. This is not the time or place to be drooling over the way the fabric stretches across his chest, or accentuates his slender waist. Without a word you both shuffle back into the other room, watching curiously as the red door clicks back into place with a loud thunk. 

“I hope the two of you are ready to get over your sudden silent treatment. I am quite fond of the way you speak to one another.” 

“What do you want?” Spencer pulls it together a lot better than you do, his voice comes out steady and controlled, even if his fingernails dig into his palm when he speaks. 

“There is that voice, what a wonderful question Dr. Reid, I have such an eventful scene planned.” You can’t help it as your hand drifts to his, intertwining your fingers with his as you try to appear calm. “I would love to give you both a detailed script but after yesterday I have to resist, you do such marvelous improv. I have a few things I would like to see, I do not care how you do them as long as they are done.”

You swallow loudly, you know it’s audible because he gives your hand a squeeze right after. 

“My angel, you did some impressive work yesterday but today I would like to reward Dr. Reid for his valiant efforts in making you shine. I will not ask for something as cruel as five orgasms of him, but I would like to see at least two. Because he did such a good job taking control of the situation yesterday I want to see more of that. I want her hands restrained, use your tie, I want you to do whatever you would like with her. I expect to see you in her mouth and in her pretty pussy.” You cringe, the way he talks about you makes you want to retch. “I found myself quite taken with the way you express yourself, Doctor. I would like more of that, I want to see what else your mouth is capable of. I want to hear dirty, nasty things, all for her. Take complete control Dr. Reid, take what you want from here, show me, show everyone, just how much you care about your dear friend and fellow agent. I expect all of my demands to be met, or you will be redoing the scene until you get it right. And I will not be so kind as to reward you with water and a bathroom if your performance is not up to my standards.” With a click he’s gone and you’re left with the aftermath of his demand.

“Hey, are you okay?” You find yourself seeking to comfort him now that it’s his turn in the hot seat. Untangling your fingers from his. 

“I’m fine.” He sure doesn’t sound fine. His posture has gone completely taut.

“If you don’t want to do this we’ll figure something out.” You lower your voice to a whisper, you know it likely isn’t making much of a difference but you can’t help but try and have an ounce of privacy. 

“There’s nothing to figure out, I spent half the night running through scenarios in my mind, there’s nothing. There’s no way out of this that doesn’t risk leaving you alone with him. And we’re absolutely not doing that.” He clears his throat. “I can do this.” He turns, his hair is damp, tucked neatly behind his ears. “I’m gonna have to… you know, do what he asked, will you be okay?” 

He’s going to fuck your mouth and your ‘pretty pussy.’ Are you okay with that? Is your heart pounding at the thought?

“I’m good, I promise, we’ve got this, this could be like, way worse. We could be getting tortured, instead we’re just doing… this.” You babble nervously. You know members of your team who have survived far worse at the hands of an unsub than this, you can do this. “We’re seeing some minor escalation but thankfully nothing too crazy, right? You made the right call yesterday, if we hadn’t done a good job we would have seen a much more aggressive escalation.”   

 “Yeah, the right call.” He’s mumbling, clearly lost in thought. 

“Hey.” You do your best to sound serious as he stares at you. You raise your hand like you’re taking an oath. “I promise that I’m okay with everything that is about to happen.” You smile like this is all just a funny inside joke, trying to ease whatever is gnawing at him. “I think I can handle a little dirty talk.”

“I just wish…” He starts a train of thought as he stares down at you, trying to muster a smile in return but he stops himself. 

“You wish?” 

“I wish we weren’t being put in this situation.” His shoulders remain tense, there’s no release of the pressure he’s holding in.

That’s not what he wants to say.

”Me too.” You put a hand on his arm, there’s no reason to push him right now, not with what’s about to happen. “Why don’t we go lay down?” You drag your hand down his arm to his hand, pulling him towards the makeshift bed. “I have an idea. Why don’t we agree to keep everything that happens during these ‘movies’ in a bubble, a bubble that we don’t touch when we’re outside of it.” 

“What you’re describing doesn’t sound healthy.”

”When we get out of here we can pop that bubble and deal with all of this then, but if we’re going to get through this now, we need to be a team. When we’re filming, we step into the bubble, and inside the bubble we do whatever it takes to survive. And when we’re done filming we don’t have to feel bad about it because we’re outside of the bubble and we can just be two agents working on the case.”

”Definietly not healthy.”

”Do you have a better idea?”

”No, but if you want to talk about what happens in the… bubble, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t just because we agreed to bottle it up.” He makes it sound a lot worse than it did in your head. 

“Okay, okay, it’s like diplomatic immunity, we don’t hold things that happen in the bubble against each other outside of the bubble.” You sit on the blanket, he mirrors you so you’re sitting face to face. 

”That’s an even worse idea, what if I hurt you?”

You laugh, maybe for the first time since you were put in this little concrete box, a real honest laugh.

”You aren’t going to hurt me, Reid. You’re like fifty pounds soaking wet.” Sure he’s tall but he’s still Dr. Reid, you’ve never seen him hurt a fly, actually he very specifically catches bugs and releases them outside when he comes across them. And he looks like a strong wind could blow him over. You’ve heard multiple people call him a pipe cleaner with eyes. 

“It’s not funny.” 

“Obviously, none of this is funny.” You gesture around the room when you speak. “But it’s happening, so if you don’t like my bubble idea then let's just scrap it and do this thing.” 

He’s nodding to himself, you can see him playing with his tie, picking at the fabric. 

”If you say stop I’ll stop.” He mumbles, you watch as he ties a knot, his fingers moving with practiced agility, as they untie it in the same motion. 

”I know Reid.”

”Spencer.”

”What?”

”I don’t like when you call me Reid, it feels… impersonal.” The knot he’s working on tightens. “We’ve been through enough together at this point, you can use my first name.” 

“Okay, Spencer, let’s stop stalling before one of us ends up with a bullet in our head. We put on another good show, he has limited escalation, so let’s do this.” You hold your wrists out like you would if you were about to be handcuffed. He’s just glaring at you expectantly. “Jesus, you’re so particular, and if I say stop you’ll stop.” You mimic his strict tone. It does seem to placate him as he takes your wrist in his hand. You watch with morbid fascination as his fingers trace the veins under your skin.

“I absolutely could hurt you if I wanted to.” He grumbles under his breath as you give him a harsh look.

”Enough joking around.” You scoff and his hand wraps around your wrist, his slender, long fingers easily encircling them as he twists your arm. His free hand darts to your shoulder and with a force you’ve never seen him use before he flips you over onto your stomach, catching your other wrist and pinning both behind your back. 

“I know you think you know everything, but I’d like to remind you that I have several years of experience in the field, as well as extensive training in how to use what strength I do have to the fullest extent.” As he speaks you squirm under him, uselessly, as he wraps the length of his tie around your wrist, one hand holding it in place as the other finds the nape of your neck, firmly holding you down. 

“Not funny, Reid.” You groan as he pushes you down until your face is buried in the pillow. 

“I agree, there is nothing funny about a little girl like you thinking that you can talk to me like that. You might have the knowledge and skillset to back up your arrogance but you don’t have the experience. In or out of the field.” You can’t see what he’s doing but you can feel the fabric tightening as his fingers wrap around them and pull, he’s somehow managed to restrain you with just the one hand. ”This is the first time you’ve ever had to be in a situation where an unsub has control over you and you’re not even acting like a federal agent, you’re acting like a spoiled brat.”

His words are clearly having an effect on you as you bite your lip to stifle a moan.

God you’re sick. 

“Can’t even hold your own against someone who’s ‘fifty pounds soaking wet’.” Pulling on your wrists he yanks you up so you’re kneeling, you pull on the bindings, testing them. No matter how you twist they hold tight. 

“You know you can be a real ass sometimes.” You groan, rolling your eyes as you turn your head back to shoot him a glare. 

“You know you drive me fucking crazy.” He leans against you, his breath is hot on your neck as he hisses, you can’t help but sit in stunned silence for a moment, you don’t think you’ve ever heard him curse before. “Do you know how exhausting this last year has been for me? Seeing how you handle yourself on every case? Watching you throw yourself into danger over and over again?”

”Well that’s not fair-”

”Since the day you started, they brought you in and told everyone you were a prodigy in your department, that you were going to be an invaluable asset to the team. And  sure, you were, until we put you in the field and you rushed into every situation. It didn’t matter if your life was at risk, you always had to be a hero. Do you know how hard it is for me to get any work done when I’m constantly worried about you throwing yourself into the line of fire to save someone else?” 

“You can’t seriously be using this as an opportunity to bring up work grievances with me.” You hiss back at him. “What is your problem, Reid?” His hand moves to the front of you, wrapping around your throat, he doesn’t squeeze but he holds it there, a silent reminder of the position you’re in.

”If you call me Reid one more time I’m going to fuck that stubborn little mouth of yours until you get it right. Until the only thing you can say is ‘Spencer.’ Until the only thing you can think about is my name.” He breathes the words out, so soft that for the first time you doubt the cameras even pick it up. If he’s playing it up for the unsub he’s doing an incredible job. 

And all you want to do right now is call him Reid. 

Both of his arms are wrapped around you now, his chest is flush with your back, one hand around your neck, the other drawing mindless shapes across your stomach, up and down towards your chest. 

At this point you don’t even care if he’s just putting on a show for the unsub, you stop yourself from whimpering, clenching your thighs together. You whine as he leans forward. With your hands locked behind your back you can feel him pressing against you, the crotch of his boxers up against your palms. Without thinking you lean back, cupping him, earning yourself a low groan.

”Jesus-“ He gasps out as you start to stroke him through his boxers. The hand around your throat tightens, just enough to remind you of its presence, his other hand floats downward, forcing your thighs apart, he doesn’t dip into your panties yet, instead he simply grazes his fingers across the length of your clothed cunt, when you whine he scoffs. Pulling his fingers back and holding them in front of your face. “Would you look at that?” You can practically hear the smug smirk on his face as you stare at the glistening tips of his fingers. “I have a theory.”

”Oh great.” You let your head fall back against his shoulder so you can see him, sure enough he’s got a shit eating grin plastered on his face. 

“I think that you want to be taught a lesson, I think that you’re acting like this because you want to be reprimanded.”

God, yes. 

“No.”      

“Maybe that’s what you’ve wanted all along, is that why you go against protocol all the time, barging into buildings before we have proper backup? Why you’re constantly disobeying direct orders? You want someone to put you in your place. It’s why you’re in this mess in the first place isn’t it? You were told to go with Emily but you insisted you would get more work done if you split up.” 

He’s like, too good at this, the words flow off of his tongue just like a practiced actor reciting a script. 

“You’re being a dick.” You snap your head back, trying to properly scowl at him but his hand grips your jaw, holding you firmly in place.

”See, even now, look at the situation you’re in. There is no reason for you to be mouthing off right now. We have a consensual agreement to fulfil the unsubs demands and an understanding that I’m going to be rough and talk to you like this. You’re restrained, and in a much worse position than I am, yet you still can’t help yourself.” 

He doesn’t raise his voice at all as he goes on and on, his tone and volume stay almost frighteningly even. As if to prove his point he lightly pushes you forward, without your hands to catch yourself you fall face first into a pillow with a soft thud and a groan. He flips you before you can pull yourself up, staring down at you with a mix of quiet simmering annoyance and something else. 

“The only time I’ve ever seen you not acting like this was when I had my fingers in you and my mouth on you, which confirms my theory.” You want to slap the tight lipped smirk off of his pretty face. You’ve always had such a friendly relationship with him, hearing him talk to you like this sends jolts of electricity through you. 

At this point you’re so caught off guard by his vulgar ranting you just stare at him dumbly, watching as his expression becomes more and more smug. 

Suddenly, you don’t care if this is all some twisted wish fulfillment for a bunch of perverts online from the mind of some sick voyeur. 

You are not going to let him have all the fun, you can play this game too. 

You twist your wrists behind your back, letting your chest arch up, your breasts straining against the fabric of the camisole. 

“Spence…” You let out a breathy moan and watch as he immediately loses his resolve, eyes wide, eyebrows arched, just for a moment before his stern expression returns.

”I would be very careful with whatever you decide to say next, sweetheart.” His hands settle on your thighs, gently pushing them apart. You feel like you’re playing chess with him, and you hate chess with Spencer. He always tells you how he’s going to win two minutes into every game. 

You’ve never beat him.

But this isn’t chess, and you can play dirty. 

You chew on your lip, frowning in the process. 

“Is that really how you feel?” You whisper, your voice cracking and you can tell by the way his face drops that you’ve got him right where you want him. “I thought we were friends, I- I didn’t know I was making your job harder. Does the whole team feel that way? I’m so sorry.” You manage a convincing lip tremble as you stutter your way through your apology, he doesn’t stop you as you pull yourself up and into a sitting position, facing him. 

“I-“ He starts, conflicting emotions crossing his face as you lean forward, batting your eyelashes at him.

“I wouldn’t be so bad if someone held a tighter leash.” You pull on your binds with an overemphasized whiney edge to your voice. “Please don’t be mad at me, you’re right, I need to be reprimanded.” The second he realizes you’re teasing him his brows furrow. “Will you help me, Reid?” 

The anger that flashes across his face almost makes you regret saying it.

Almost.

“You just can’t help yourself.” He clicks his tongue, and the look he gives you is one of fury but he couldn’t sound more pleased. He stands up, you don’t bother trying to as well, without your hands you know it would be useless. “Just remember that you asked for this.” His hands tangle in your hair as he gives you a warning tug, pulling you up from sitting to your knees. 

Asked for it, wanted it, needed it. 

He keeps one hand firmly in your hair, the other grabs your jaw, rougher than he’s been so far. The pad of his thumb brushes over your bottom lip.

“Open.” Your initial instinct is to snark back at him but his tone is so deathly calm a part of you automatically responds to the authority. You dart your tongue out, wetting your lips before you open your mouth. The corners of his own lips twitch.

He slides his thumb past your teeth, resting on your tongue, he doesn’t push deep enough to gag you but it certainly isn’t comfortable. 

And then you wait. 

His eyes never leave yours and he doesn’t move, he just stares at you, expectantly. 

Son of a bitch. 

He’s not gonna do anything until you give him what he wants so with a roll of your eyes you close your lips around the digit. Gingerly, you run your tongue along the length, you dare a glance up at him and he gives you a nod, grinning like a cat that finally caught the mouse. 

“Isn’t it so much easier to just follow directions?”

Oh, you could kill him.

Or fuck him, you’d take either option gladly. 

You open your mouth, ready to spit an obscenity at him but his thumb presses down on your tongue and all you can do is groan. 

“Still not enough to keep you quiet?” He raises an eyebrow and removes his thumb, his hand moves to the front of his boxers and you watch with bated breath as those long, delicate fingers trace the outline of the sizeable bulge that you’re now hyper aware of. “Is this what you need? Is this what it’ll take to make you behave?” 

Before you can think of a snarky response, before you can headbutt him in the crotch, and before you can give him the meanest glare you can muster, you lose control of yourself and your stupid body reacts faster than your brain, and you nod.

And his eyes just light up.

You’re never gonna live this down.

With your hands bound the way there are there’s no way for you to touch him, or even steady yourself. Your only anchor is his hand in your hair. It crosses your mind that he really could hurt you right now, there’s nothing you could do to stop it and you doubt the unsub would even want him to stop. He can do whatever he wants to you. 

Why does that make this even hotter? What is wrong with you? 

He never takes his eyes off of you, you can’t remember the last time he looked away, it’s an almost frightening look of concentration on his face as he tilts his head, examining you. You should be afraid. But you aren’t, because even now, in this situation, you know he wouldn’t ever really hurt you. 

And when he’s done with your mouth he’s going to take one look at your cunt and see just how much you love this. 

Behind the bravado, dominance, and faux anger in his expression, behind the show you’re putting on, you can still see that a tiny part of him is searching your face for a sign that you’re really okay with this. 

So you give him one. 

Leaning forward, you press your mouth against the outline of his cock. Peppering a trail of kisses along his length, trying to ignore the fact that the more you feel out this size of him, the less confident you are in your ability to fit him in your mouth. 

His eyes are definitely still on you when you look up at him through your eyelashes, except now you’re rewarded with the dumb look on his face as his mouth falls open. 

You’re caught off guard when he suddenly pulls you away, crouching down, you squeak as he pulls you into a kiss, nipping at you from your mouth to your chin, to your cheek, until you feel a light bite at your earlobe. He nuzzles his face into your hair and you swear you can hear him inhaling sharply  through his nose but your focus shifts when his lips return to your ear. 

“I don’t care what the reason is, if you want me to stop at any point you shake your head no and we will deal with the consequences. Nod if you understand.” He returns to standing leaving you breathless as you nod, probably a little too eagerly.

And without missing a beat he hooks a finger into the waist line of his boxers, tugging them down, effectively freeing himself. 

Oh he’s got a perfect dick.

You’re gonna need so much therapy after this. 

You feel like the last half an hour has just been you and Spencer gawking slackjawed at each other and it’s once again your turn. 

He’s got the kind of dick you see in a porn and think, ‘only pornstars have dicks like that, not regular guys.’ 

Although, Spencer Reid is the furthest thing from a regular guy but that’s besides the point. You’re face to face with the biggest dick you’ve ever seen in person. Pretty and pale with a prominent vein on the underside, you’re shamelessly ogling him at this point, staring at the pink tip as he takes himself in his hand. His free hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushes against your lips once more and this time you don’t need to be told what to do.

You open your mouth and eagerly lean forward as he slides into your mouth. 

You do your best to accommodate his size, flattening your tongue as you watch his head fall back with an obscene groan. 

All you want to hear is make him make that sound. 

You try to move your head forward but it’s awkward without being able to use your hands to balance yourself. You end up taking too much of him at once and you gag, his moan is pornagraphic but he’s quick to pull away as you cough.

“Are you okay?” He whispers, you know he’s trying to speak softly enough to not be heard but you doubt it works. You nod, catching your breath for a moment.

”I think I’m gonna need a little help.” You accentuate your point by pulling on the tie, wiggling your arms. There’s a moment of silence before he nods, once again he takes his cock in his hand, but this time once he’s past your lips you feel both of his hands tangle into your hair. He guides you slowly down his length and you take the opportunity to run your tongue across the vein you’d been eying. With a hiss he pulls you back, until all you’ve got is his tip. 

He’s overly cautious, and surprisingly gently as he pushes your head further down, he makes sure to never push you more than halfway down his length, never gagging you. It’s almost a little boring as he moves your head up and down. He lets out a few small sounds as he gingerly moves your head. You both freeze in place when you hear a click and a crackle from above.

”I thought I made myself clear, you perform or there are dire consequences. Neither one of you looks like you are enjoying yourselves. I told you to take control, I told you to take what you want. Not what makes her comfortable. It is obvious to me that you are exercising a severe amount of restraint Dr. Reid and we both know that is not what I want to see. Now do it right, show me you can make her shine, or I will find someone else who will.” He’s practically snarling into the microphone by the end of his rant, you both cringe in unison at the sound of the click followed by silence. 

When you turn to look at him his eyebrows are practically squeezed together he looks so concerned. 

“Look, Spencer, I’m fine with you doing whatever you have to do. If survival is our goal here-“ As you speak he shoves two fingers into your mouth, effectively silencing you.

”You’re done talking. The next time you speak it’ll be because I asked you to.” You hardly have a second to process what’s happening before he’s squeezing your jaw, forcing your mouth open as he slides his cock back in. His hands find your hair again but instead of moving your head he thrusts himself forward. Your throat tightens, and you gag immediately but this time he pulls back only to rock himself forward again. You let out a garbled whine as he finds a steady pace, he thankfully doesn’t gag you again, careful to go as deep as he can without choking you. 

You can do nothing but watch him as he fucks your mouth, his grip in your hair tightening as he holds you in place. His own hair falling in messy tangles across his face. 

“Look at you, finally quiet.” He groans, snapping his neck back to throw some of his hair out of his eyes as he grins down at you, groaning. 

The effect he has on you is just embarrassing at this point. You’re so turned on you’re about to straddle his foot and grind down against his socks. As you’re considering it he pulls himself out completely, a line of spit hangs from your lips to his cock. He wipes it off your lip with his thumb and taps against your cheek with his tip. 

“I bet you’ll look even better taking the whole thing.” When he pushes himself back against your lips you try to pull back, opening your mouth to protest but he just takes it as an opportunity to shove himself into your mouth as you gasp. “I didn’t give you permission to talk yet sweetheart.” You whine around him as he slides his hips forward another inch. “I know you can do it, just breathe.” He lowers his voice as he pulls your hair, hard. You let out a whimper, and he uses his free hand to brush any hair in your face behind your ears. 

You do your best to relax your throat as you feel him pushing further, you gag when he hits your throat but he doesn’t give so much as an inch of relief as he shushes you in between his groans. 

“Almost, just a little bit more, you need to relax.” 

Easy for him to say he doesn’t have a fucking baseball bat in his throat.

One hand grips your hair so tightly you feel tears prickling the corners of your eyes while the other cradles your face, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your cheek. You swallow around him, taking shallow breaths in through your nose as he eases himself in the last inch and your nose hits that little patch of curls at the base of his cock. You gag around him but you’re expecting it so you manage to breathe through it enough that you don’t puke. 

The look on his face makes it worth it. 

Intoxicated.

Sharp little breathes as he fights back a moan, eyes dark and watching with so much intensity you feel like you’re under a microscope. His hair is in disarray and he doesn’t bother fixing it this time. 

“So good, s-such a good job.” He mumbles as his hips twitch involuntarily forward before pulling back a tiny bit. His thrusts are shallow but he stays in your throat. The tears that were forming flow freely now, he wipes a few of them away but they just keep coming. You take a shuddering breath in through your nose, drool dribbling down your chin as you squeeze your eyes shut.

As much as you want to watch his reactions it takes all of your focus to not retch as he fucks your throat. You know you won’t have to last too long because his thrusts become erratic after just a few more seconds and his soft moans turn to out of breath whines. You nose hits his pelvis once more and with a twitch of his hips you feel his cum hit the back of your throat.

You can’t help but steal a few glances, opening your eyes just in time to watch his head fall back, his face and neck flush red. With his cock still stuffed in your mouth you have no choice but to swallow as he comes down from his orgasm. 

Not that you mind all that much. 

When your throat constricts around him he seems to snap back to reality as he quickly withdraws. In one smooth motion he sinks to his knees to come face to face with you. Both hands cup your face and you know you must be a sight. Tears and drool slick on your face, the look of admiration on his face tells you he must not mind that much though. 

“Let me see.” He murmurs, tapping your chin with two fingers. You’re still catching your breath but you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, showing him the wet mess of semen and spit. “Such a good job, look how well you’re behaving now.” You’re caught off guard when he leans forward, his tongue sliding across yours, tasting the mix of the two of you. His hands find your shoulders and he lays you back against a few pillows. “You looked so pretty choking on my cock.” 

Even after everything you’re still surprised to hear him talk like that, it makes your head spin. When you don’t respond he slides his hands down your body until he reaches your panties, he wastes no time pulling them down your legs and tossing them behind him. You start to squeeze your thighs together but you aren’t fast enough, or quick enough to stop him from spreading your legs. 

His eyes practically sparkle. 

Ravaging you with just his stare, eyes consuming, memorizing, every detail between your legs. 

“Look at that.” God, he sounds so pleased with himself. 

He should be, you’re dripping and he hasn’t even touched you there.

”Isn’t that answer enough?” You sneer at him, bucking your hips. The smile he gives you is so genuine you can’t stand it. 

“There you go with that mouth again, can you only behave when you’re stuffed with cock? Do I need to keep you like that permanently? Want me to leave you like that until we’re found? Do you want the rest of the team to barge in here on a rescue mission only to find you drooling on my cock?” His fingers swipe through the wetness between your legs, the squelching sound makes your cheeks burn more than they already are. Your back arches as he sinks two into you, your cunt pulses around him immediately as you start to let out a pornagraphic groan. 

”Shut up.” You try to sit up but a small push from him sends you back into the pillows. He gives you a disapproving shake of his head. 

“I really thought we were making some progress, I guess you still haven’t learned your lesson.” He removes his fingers, rather abruptly, leaving you to whine at the absence. “I was going to be so nice to you too,” You’re getting used to being manhandled at this point, although this time you find yourself in a state of confusion as he sits beside you, lifting you by your hips and placing you in his lap. “I was going to work you open with my fingers to make this easier for you but I guess you don’t want that.” While he speaks you can feel him already hardening again against the swell of your ass. 

“Spencer…” Your tone is that of warning, like you might scold him. 

“Maybe you need another reminder of who’s in charge.” He bucks his hips, forcing you up and onto your knees as you straddle him, he’s quick and precise as he lines himself up at your entrance. Your eyes go wide as you realize what’s about to happen. The tip of his cock slides through your slick, when he bumps against your clit you nearly fall over. With a smirk he lines himself up with your hole, staring at you expectantly. When he tilts his hips and pushes himself into you, you both melt into a chorus of moans. The stretch burns so sweetly, your brain can’t seem to figure out if you want more or less. 

“Spencer, wait- please.” You start to object but he’s already shaking his head. 

“No, sweetheart. I think this is a lesson you need to learn the hard way.” He says it so gently but the glint in his eye tells you he likes this a little too much. 

Almost as much as you do.

”You’ve done so good so far, I know you can do this.” He coos, his hands wander up and down your body from your thighs to just below your chest, you sit up on your knees, impaled on his cock with your thighs already trembling. “I want you to show me how good you can be.” His voice turns to a murmur as he slides a hand under your top. You’re too focused on his monster cock trying to squeeze its way into you to pay attention to the way his hand starts exploring your chest. Slender fingers, cupping your breasts and drawing gentle circles around your nipples. You shift your body down, your thighs tense as you try to slowly lower yourself but you only make it about halfway down his shaft before you can’t take anymore, when you start to lift yourself off of him in an attempt to relieve the stretching feeling he catches your hips, locking you in place. 

“Please-” You start to whine as he holds steady, you squirm to no avail as he shakes his head. 

“You’re not getting up until you show me you can take the whole thing.” You know he means it, there’s no persuading him when you’ve come this far. And he must know a part of you enjoys this, if you didn’t you would outright tell him to stop, you’d shake your head no and he would stop. 

Probably. 

”Spencer…” You whisper his name like you’re begging but you don’t even know what you want, it’s too hard to focus on anything when the burn between your legs fizzles into a warm pleasure with every passing second. 

“What do you want, sweetheart?” His hair sticks to his forehead, a sheen of sweat coating his body, you likely match. His fingers alternate from tapping your waist frantically and squeezing the flesh of your hips. 

What do you want? 

What you want is to be at home in your own bed, in the exact same situation, with no cameras and no nightmare director watching your every move, and making demands. You want this to be real. 

You want him to buck his hips up and make you take it.

You want to know what he thinks about all of this.

You want him to force you down to the hilt, to make you take all of him.

You want to know if he feels the same guilt that you do for wanting more, and more, and more of this.

You want a copy of this recording before Garcia scrubs it from the internet so you can relive it if Spencer refuses to even look at you after this. 

”I want you.” That’s all you’ve wanted, for so long.

There’s too much sensation. Everything hurts and feels so fucking good and staring down at him doesn’t help. You’re a profiler, and a goddamn good one at that, but staring at his face you don’t get anything. You can’t decipher his body language in any meaningful way, not when your focus is all over the place.                                     

“Show me.” He sounds as fucked as you feel. “Show me how badly you want this.” He pulls his hands back so he isn’t touching you at all, holding them up almost as if he were showing you he isn’t a threat. You could easily sit up and pull yourself off of him but you’re too engrossed with the way his eyelashes flutter as he stares down to the point where the two of you meet. 

You start slow, inching yourself further down him but it hurts too much and you worry you’ll lose your resolve. Instead you look him in the eyes. Watching his tongue poke out of his mouth before he chews his bottom lip. An action you’ve seen hundreds of times at the office, now everytime you see it you’ll think of this. 

“Can you help me stay upright?” You whisper, his hands are hesitant and practically trembling when he returns to your hips. Not the same confidant movements he was displaying before. Once you’re sure he’s got you, you take a deep breath and let your knees give out. Slamming yourself down fully onto his cock. 

You’re pretty sure you scream, it’s hard to concentrate on anything other than the pressure against your cervix. When you manage to open your eyes you’re rewarded with such a treat. He’s as gone as you are, his hands flexing, digging into your skin as he bites his own lip so hard you’re worried he’ll bleed. His moans are muffled as he tries desperately to keep his mouth shut but what does slip through is delicious. 

You feel a sense of pride. 

You’re still catching your breath when he shifts himself up and on to his elbows. 

“You want me?” He sounds as needy as you feel right now. 

And all you can do is nod. 

When he lifts your hips and pulls out you whimper, the sensation of relief doesn’t make up for the lack of him. 

He’s gentle as he guides you rather than forces you this time down into a pillow. You’ve got your ass in the air and your face turned to the side so you can still see him in your peripheral vision. 

You’re expecting him to slam into you, to immediately find a punishing pace. You’re surprised when his body wraps around yours and he kisses the back of your neck, moving down your spine until he hits your lower back and sits up. 

He wordlessly lines himself back up at your entrance, and you keen when he pushes himself in, inch by inch until he’s fully sheathed within you once more. Your groan is long and drawn out as you readjust to his size. In this position he somehow feels even bigger, like he’s in your fucking stomach. 

“Jesus-” Your breath catches in your throat when he grabs you by your shoulders, pulling you back against him, somehow managing to push himself deeper. Making you feel every single inch.

“That’s not the name I want to hear.” With a snap of his hips he pulls out about halfway before thrusting fully back into you. 

“Spencer!” You’re so full, too full. 

“There it is.” He mumbles under his breath before he starts rocking his hips back and forth, experimentally shifting from quick shallow thrusts to slow long ones. Both make you bury your head in the pillow to stifle your moans. His hands stay locked on your shoulders, yanking you back against him with each thrust, pulling you closer to him. He eventually settles himself into shallow thrusts, pulling out halfway before snapping forwards, grinding himself against you, making you feel every inch. 

Slow and steady, he folds himself over you. Resting his forehead on your back as you lay there and take everything he gives you. With every thrust he brushes along that sweet spot that makes you see stars before slamming against your cervix. 

And then he fucking whimpers your name. 

Out of breath and desperate.

“Say it again, say my name.” He kisses you between your shoulder blades before latching onto your pulled back shoulder, sucking and nipping at the skin. “Please.”

And who are you to deny him when he’s asking so nicely?

With every snap of his hips you groan out the only thing you can think, over and over and over again.

“Spencer, Spence- Spencer, please.” You’re not sure when it started but you’re suddenly extremely aware of the knot forming in your core as your thighs tremble. With each jolt of his hips you’re pushed closer and closer to that edge, until all you can think about is him. His hands on your shoulders, on your hips, wrapping around you to paw at your chest, like he can’t decide on one so he has to alternate through them. His breath, hot on your back where he leaves kisses in between his moans. His cock, pulling out just enough to push your buttons so perfectly he must be doing it on purpose. 

Closer, and closer, and closer. 

Until you feel yourself nearing the point of no return, and in an instant all the sensation is gone. You don’t bother with your dignity because at this point it’s nonexistent, instead you whine and push your hips back. 

His hands are back on you, forcing you onto your back, your hands trapped under you as he flips you. His forehead is slick with sweat and you can see the sweet shade of pink flushing his neck and face, devastatingly pretty. 

“Spen-” You start to plead with him but he’s already on it, cock in hand as he eases himself back into the wet mess between your legs, in this position you can see the slick coating your thighs, you don’t get much time to watch his cock disappear into you because he’s on you like a predator on prey. His lips are all consuming on yours. He’s absolutely devouring you, biting at your bottom lip, darting his tongue into your mouth, you can’t resist the opportunity to suck his tongue. 

 God, you’re a goner. 

He finds the same pace, shallow thrusts, your body jerking with each one. Fucking into you with a brutal consistency, every thrust leaves you wanting more. It almost feels like he can read your mind when one of his hands drifts between your legs, his pointer and middle finger find your clit so fast you’d think he had a map to get there, rubbing circles in time with each snap of his hips. 

“Spencer…” At this point you’re running out of other words to say, he clearly meant it when he said all you’d be able to think about was his name, that’s certainly the case now as he coaxes your body towards an orgasm with surgical precision.  

“Do you understand why I have to do this, sweetheart?” He separates his lips from yours, nose to nose as he mumbles, when you get a good look at his face you know he’s just as fucked as you are. But his fingers have stopped their movements and all you can concentrate on is how badly you need them to start again.

You nod furiously, you’d say anything if it would make him start touching you again.

“T-to teach me a lesson, to make me behave.” It takes you a second but you manage to get through your sentence before he laughs, burying his face in your neck

“You’re a profiler, you can do better than that.” 

Does he want you to state the obvious?

“Because you don’t want him to be mad?” You know you sound unsure but you don’t care, all you can think about is his fingers dipping back between your legs. You try to rock yourself against him for any stimulation at all but his fingers squeeze your hips so tight you know you’ll have bruises there. 

“You’re so sweet.” His teeth graze your jaw, dragging down the side of your neck before he bites down, pulling a whine out of you. “So, so, so sweet. You think I care what he thinks?” He kisses the spot before he sits up, one hand on your hip and the other rubbing the mark he left. “Yours is the only opinion that matters to me.” 

He grinds himself against you, as if you’re not already full of him. 

“He said he’ll find someone else.” He’s all mumbles now. “But there’s no one else, just me, right sweetheart?” Sweet, breathy mumbles. 

“You’re not- oh my god, making any sense.” Nothing makes sense right now, not when he’s starting to thrust into you again, thrusts so shallow he’s practically just grinding his hips against yours. Like he’s trying to force himself as deep as he can, bruising you even where no one can see.

”I hate that he’s right about you.” He catches your lips in his as you start to open your mouth again, his fingers brush up against your thigh as you groan into him. He pulls away just long enough to mumble, like he’s overflowing with the words and has to get them out. “I’ve seen everything he describes, I thought it all before he ever put it into words.” His nose bumps against yours as he rambles, thrusts becoming erratic as he finally puts his focus back on your clit. “The way you shine, and sparkle, and light up a room.” 

“Spencer, I don’t-” You don’t know when you started crying again but you sure are now. Overstimulation, confusion, pleasure, you aren’t sure what brought it on. 

“I’m gonna make you light up, you- you don’t need anyone else.” His eyes are shut tight, his eyebrow twitching as he focuses. His ramblings don’t make any sense as he babbles on and on, lost in his concentration. 

“Spencer…” You softly hiss out his name as your stomach twists, he pushes hard on your clit as he continues his merciless patterns. 

It feels like you’re being electrocuted in the most addicting way possible, you twitch around him, you push your head back into the pillow supporting you as your back arches off the ground. The wave finally crashes over you as you come, hard. You clamp around him like a vice and he’s quick to follow. You aren’t fully aware of the immediate aftermath but you know he’s groaning something akin to your name as he collapses on top of you. 

You lay in a sweaty, panting heap for what feels like hours before he sits up. Both of you groan softly when he slips out of you. His touch on you is so light and cautious you’d think you were made of glass. His nimble fingers easily release the tie from around your wrists, you wince in pain as the blood rushes back to your hands. When you bring them in front of you, rubbing them gingerly you can see the raw red marks as well as the dark purple splotches starting to bloom around your wrists like sadistic bracelets. 

“I’m so sorry.” He murmurs, taking your wrist in his hand, rubbing his thumb over the mark. “I got carried away, I- I shouldn’t have.” You put your fingers over his mouth. 

“No apologies.” You lower your hand. “Neither one of us should be apologizing for anything that happens here, we’re alive and together because of you.” You’re about to continue but the buzz of the intercom snaps you both to attention. 

There’s only a moment of static before you hear a sniffling sound, it makes you stare at Spencer, both of you with eyebrows cocked in confusion. 

“Are you crying?” You can’t help yourself as you blurt it out, the absurdity of the situation still finds ways to shock you. 

“It was just such a beautiful performance.” He coughs, clearing his throat. “Thank you Dr. Reid, that was just what I was looking for.” You’re both surprised when the speaker clicks again and you’re left alone. The room dims back down to a single bulb, plunging you both into darkness. When the lock on the red door clicks again he stands, you avert your eyes as he straightens his boxers out to cover himself back up. You only look up when he tosses your panties to you. Neither one of you seems inclined to speak but he does help you to your feet, supporting you as you limp to the bathroom. Once he props you up in the shower he steps out, you know he’s right outside, waiting. 

You run the water, taking your second shower of the day. You rinse the sweat from your skin, carefully running your hand between your legs, hissing when you touch yourself there. 

You’re definitely going to be sore for a while. 

You finish up, toweling off and putting your top and panties back on but not before stealing a glance at yourself in the mirror. 

Yikes. 

No wonder Spencer’s so quiet. Your wrists are a sight but that’s nothing compared to the rest of you. When your cami hikes up you can see a myriad of bruises, up and down your waist and hips. Purple blooming all over your form, further down your thighs are a similar sight. He really did a number on you. You do your best to adjust your top so they cover everything on your torso as well as some of your upper thighs. He’s standing right beside the doorway when you step out. 

“Your turn.” You give him the best smile you can muster as he slips past you but you know it doesn’t convince him you’re okay. 

Are you okay?

Sort of. 

You’re sore, a little bruised, and tender between your legs, sure. You’re confused, by everything Spencer says to you, in and out of the scenes you’re performing. But overall, surprisingly fine. And you can thank Spencer for that. 

If you’d been stuck here with Hotch, or Morgan, or heaven forbid a stranger, you’d likely find yourself in much worse condition. Hotch and his overly seriousness. Everything is so serious and life or death with him, and then of course there’s the guilt he would feel, never ending guilt. And Morgan’s been like a big brother to you since the day you met him, even imagining intimacy with him makes your skin crawl. A part of you can’t help but be glad it’s Spencer, even if this has complicated your already complex relationship. 

You’re okay, mostly. 

You’ll be better when you aren’t being forced to follow the whims of some obsessed sexual psychopath, but you’re okay. 

You just have to hope he’s okay too. 

When he finally steps out of the bathroom he’s mopey. 

That’s the only word you can think of to describe him.

He isn’t exhibiting signs of anger, or depression. He isn’t twitching like he does when he’s anxious, he doesn’t even seem to be guilt ridden, he just seems… bothered. You give him space, after what the two of you just did it’s entirely justifiable, natural even, to need space. You bury yourself in the blankets, staring at the ceiling for forever. 

Until he joins you, bringing you a water bottle that you happily accept. 

It’s hard to remember you’re thirsty when you’re dealing with a million other far more pressing matters. He lays down beside you, rolling over to stare at you, eventually you mirror him. So you’re both on your sides, face to face.

You don’t need to be a profiler to know something is eating him up inside. You’re about to ask, you’ll force it out of him if you have to. He beats you to it. Wetting his lips with his tongue and chewing the inside of his cheek before he speaks. 

“You’re… a really great actress.” He whispers into the darkness. You can see the crest fallen look on his face the second the words leave his mouth.

That’s it?

That’s what he took away from all of this? That’s why he’s sulking? That’s why he got all quiet and sullen and pouty before you had sex? Your eye twitches, you should just roll over and go to sleep instead your mouth opens before you can stop it. 

“You’re so stupid.” You can’t help yourself as you roll your eyes. 

“Excuse me?” He sounds genuinely offended but you just scoff.

“You heard me. For someone who’s so smart you really are an idiot.” You scowl at him. Is that the best he can do? Some self loathing about how you might have been acting? You’ve been carrying the guilt of having feelings for him, and enjoying parts of this and that’s the best he can do? “Genius Doctor Reid, you’re supposed to be the brightest mind in the whole bureau and you can’t even figure this out.” Staring at the dumbfounded look on his face all you can think about is how despite this all he’s still your Spencer, no matter how much he’s put through. 

He is still the guy who makes you coffee for every plane ride, the guy who has an extra shirt if you forgot to put your pajamas in your go bag, the guy who looks confused and asks Morgan what’s so funny when they tease you about your crush. 

Tell him.

Who cares, after everything you’ve been through in the last forty eight hours? The damage to your relationship is done, you lose nothing if this goes wrong. 

“You’re being unnecessarily cruel.” He looks so genuinely upset. You inch yourself closer to him. Until your noses are almost touching, your hand wanders across his face, tucking a stray curl behind his ear. 

“Everything that’s happened to us is unnecessarily cruel.” You mumble before closing the distance between the two of you, crashing your lips into his.

The annual start-of-summer lake day was apparently sacred in Hawkins. You discovered this at exactly eight-thirteen in the morning when a bikini top smacked you directly in the face. You jolted awake with a startled noise, immediately sitting upright as Violet stood in your doorway looking entirely too awake for a college student on summer break.

"Rise and shine."

You squinted at her through messy hair. "What time is it?"

"Lake day time."

"That's not a real time."

"It is in this house."

You groaned and flopped backward into the mattress. Unfortunately for you, Violet Munson had never been known for mercy. An hour later, you were sitting cross-legged on a kitchen stool nursing a cup of coffee while Violet packed enough snacks to survive a small apocalypse.

The house was quiet in Eddie's absence. He'd left for work before either of you woke up, disappearing sometime around six in the morning after leaving a note on the counter reminding Violet, "be there around four. please try not to drown anybody."

You'd stared at that note for far longer than necessary. Not because his handwriting was attractive, that would be ridiculous.

The front door opened dramatically, snapping you out of your lovestruck focus on Eddie’s chicken scratch. A blonde girl walked inside without knocking, sunglasses pushed up into her hair, and a set of car keys dangling from one finger.

"Please tell me somebody made coffee."

"Kitchen," Violet called.

The girl immediately rounded the corner before stopping when she saw you. For a second, she simply stared, then she looked at Violet. Then back at you.

"Huh."

"What?" Violet asked.

The girl pointed. "This is the roommate?"

"Yep."

"Huh."

"What does that mean?"

The girl shrugged. "Nothing. Just expected someone different."

She extended a hand toward you. "Harper Harrington."

You shook it. "The Harrington?"

She sighed dramatically. "Unfortunately."

The rest of the group filtered in over the next half hour, the same way Harper had; no knocking, no warning, just casually wandering into the Munson house like they owned part of it. By the time everyone finally piled into their respective cars, you'd met enough people to completely lose track of who belonged to who. 

Apparently, that was another Hawkins thing. Everybody's parents knew everybody else's parents, everyone had grown up together, and somehow half the town seemed related through friendship if not blood. It was oddly comforting in a way you weren't used to, a kind of community that only seemed possible in places where people stayed.

The lake itself ended up being far prettier than you'd expected. Hawkins might've been small, but the water stretched wide beneath the summer sun, sparkling between the trees while boats drifted lazily across the surface. 

The group immediately claimed a familiar patch of shoreline, unloading coolers and folding chairs with the efficiency of people who'd been doing this every summer since birth.

Before you'd even finished laying your towel out, somebody had already started music, somebody else had started a volleyball game, and Harper was loudly accusing one of the others of cheating at something.

Hours slipped by surprisingly fast after that. You swam, floated on your back in the lake, got dragged into a game of beach volleyball despite repeatedly insisting you sucked at sports, and somehow ended up sharing a giant bag of chips with Harper while she filled you in on years of Hawkins gossip. 

By mid-afternoon, your skin was warm from the sun, your hair was damp from swimming, and for the first time since arriving in Indiana, you weren't really thinking about anything at all. Well, almost anything.

"Your eyes keep going to the parking lot."

You looked over at Harper. "What?"

She smirked. "Nothing."

Immediately suspicious, you narrowed your eyes. "Harper."

Before she could answer, a familiar roar of an engine echoed through the trees. And suddenly, half the group perked up. "Oh, they're here."

You turned instinctively toward the parking area, a big mistake. Huge mistake, actually. Because there, climbing out of the old van with a cooler balanced against one hip, was Eddie.

For a second, your brain didn't quite process what it was seeing. Then it did, and unfortunately, that made things significantly worse. Gone was the grease-stained work shirt you'd seen him leave in every morning. 

Instead, he'd changed into a pair of faded black swim trunks hanging low on his hips and absolutely nothing else. His curls had been pulled back into a messy bun at the nape of his neck, exposing the tattoos crawling across his shoulders and chest, and the late afternoon sunlight caught against every silver ring still decorating his fingers.

Sweet fucking Jesus. You suddenly understood every poor decision women had ever made throughout history.

"Wow." The word escaped before you could stop it.

Harper followed your line of sight, then she looked at you, then back at Eddie. Then at you again. "Oh."

Your stomach dropped. "Oh no."

"Oh," Harper repeated, sounding somewhere between inquiry and suspicion.

Across the beach, Steve appeared from the passenger side, carrying enough bags to feed a football team. Beside him was a woman with dark hair and oversized sunglasses, effortlessly beautiful in the way that made you immediately understand why Steve Harrington had spent years getting himself into trouble. 

"That's my mom," Harper informed you.

"She's gorgeous."

"I know. It's annoying."

Steve immediately spotted the group and lifted a hand. "Alright, move. Important people are here."

"Nobody asked you to come!" one of the kids yelled back.

Steve looked genuinely offended. "That's a terrible thing to say to the guy carrying burgers."

The entire group immediately changed sides.

"Welcome, Steve."

"Great to see you, Steve."

"We love you, Steve."

His wife snorted. "You people are shameless."

Meanwhile, you were doing your absolute best not to stare at Eddie. Unfortunately, Eddie wasn't making that particularly easy.

He'd abandoned the cooler near the picnic tables and was helping Steve unload supplies, muscles flexing every time he lifted something. The man wasn't even showing off. He looked completely unaware of the fact that he was walking around looking like every romance novel cover come to life.

Or maybe he was aware, because halfway through carrying a folding table, he glanced up. And immediately caught you staring. Fuck.

His eyebrows lifted, and the corner of his mouth twitched. Then, the bastard winked. You nearly swallowed your own tongue.

You snapped your head back to the lake, Harper immediately tilting her head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you replied on impulse. She hummed in response, but it didn’t quite sound convinced. 

Before you could formulate a solid response to her lack of one, Eddie finally started walking toward the group. The closer he got, the worse the situation became. 

Up close, you could see the faint tan lines across his shoulders, the tattoos wrapping around his arms, the way a few escaped curls had fallen loose around his face despite the bun. It should've been illegal for a forty-year-old father to look like that.

Thirty-nine. Not that you knew that, or thought about it. Or remembered constantly.

"Hey, sweetheart." His voice alone was enough to make your stomach flip.

You looked up and immediately regretted it. Because now he was standing directly in front of you, still shirtless, still damp from whatever shower he'd apparently taken after work, and still looking entirely too pleased with himself.

"Hey."

Eddie's eyes drifted over you slowly, taking in your swimsuit, your sun-kissed skin, and your damp hair. The look lingered just long enough to make heat crawl up your neck before he finally grinned.

"Looks like you're surviving Hawkins."

"Barely."

"Mhm."

Eventually, Steve decided he'd had enough of everyone picking at chips and snacks.

"Alright, listen up!" he shouted from beside the grills. "Food's done, and if you little gremlins don't come eat now, I'm not reheating anything later."

A chorus of complaints immediately followed.

"We're literally walking over!"

"Relax, dad!"

"You're not my dad!"

Steve pointed a spatula threateningly. "I could've been."

His wife rolled her eyes from where she was arranging burger toppings. "Ignore him. Everybody grab a plate."

The entire group migrated toward the picnic tables in a noisy mass of towels, sunscreen, half-finished conversations, and dripping lake water. Harper immediately stole a burger before Steve could finish serving everyone, earning a dramatic gasp from her father that she completely ignored.

You found yourself settling onto the end of one of the benches while everyone else naturally fell into conversations that had clearly been going on for years.

Maya and the twins were arguing about something that happened last summer. Harper was making fun of a guy she'd apparently gone to school with. Logan was telling some story that required absolutely zero context for everybody except you.

You smiled when appropriate and laughed when everyone else laughed. But after a while, you started feeling it, that subtle little distance.

Nobody was being unkind. Quite the opposite, actually. Everyone had gone out of their way to include you throughout the day. But there was still a difference between being welcomed into a group and having years of inside jokes and memories with them.

You were still catching up. Still learning names, stories, histories...still the new person.

For a moment, your thoughts drifted back home. To being the odd one out at family dinners. To sitting quietly while everyone else talked around you. To feeling like there wasn't really a place carved out for you anywhere, so you picked at your food.

The feeling only lasted a minute, maybe less. Because suddenly a shadow fell across the table, then Eddie slid onto the bench beside you.

"Hey."

You glanced over. "Hey."

He balanced a paper plate on one knee and took a bite of his burger before speaking again.

"You look like you're plotting something."

You snorted. "I promise I'm not."

"Mhm."

"What?"

Eddie tilted his head slightly. "You got quiet."

"I'm okay."

"I know."

His voice was soft enough that nobody else would've heard it over the surrounding conversations.

Then he nodded toward the group, "They can be a lot."

You laughed quietly. "That's one way to put it."

"Trust me, sweetheart. I've known most of these idiots since before they could drive."

"Feels like everybody here has known each other forever."

"Pretty much."

Eddie picked at the label on his beer bottle. "Harper was born when Vi was little. Maya's parents live three streets over. Logan practically grew up at my garage. Steve's wife still makes fun of me for a haircut I got in nineteen ninety-three."

You laughed. "What was wrong with the haircut?"

"Oh, it was terrible."

"Really?"

"It was magnificent."

"Those are two different answers."

"Both can be true." His shoulder bumped yours lightly, and you couldn't help smiling.

The conversations around you continued, but somehow they felt less overwhelming now. Maybe because Eddie wasn't trying to force you into them. He wasn't doing the awkward introduction thing or drawing attention to the fact that you were newer than everyone else.

"You know," he said after a minute, looking out toward the water, "when I first moved into Wayne's, I barely spoke for an entire summer."

You blinked. "You?"

"Hard to believe, I know."

"Impossible, actually."

Eddie grinned. "Seriously. I was awkward as hell."

"No way."

"Way."

You studied him skeptically. Just before this, the man had an entire picnic table laughing at half of what he said. "You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You expect me to believe you were shy?"

His grin softened slightly. "Not shy."

He looked down at his beer. "Just didn't think people wanted me around."

The admission surprised you enough that you didn't answer right away. Because for a second, you caught a glimpse of something underneath all the confidence and sarcasm; something younger.

Eddie glanced over and immediately noticed your expression. "Hey."

"Hm?"

"Don't get all sad on me."

You laughed. "I'm not sad."

"Good."

Then he reached over and stole one of your fries, again.

"Hey!"

"Occupational hazard. Gotta make sure it’s not poison."

"That's not what that means."

"It does if I say it does."

The Hideout was somehow even more charming now than it had been in all the stories Violet told. Maybe it was the nostalgia baked into the place. The old wooden bar, the dim lighting, the neon beer signs buzzing softly against the walls. 

Maybe it was because half the people inside seemed to know Eddie by name. Or maybe it was because every few minutes someone would stop by your table to greet either Steve, Eddie, or both, and you'd get to watch them slip so naturally into the lives they'd built here.

You, Harper, and Violet had claimed a booth near the back while Steve and Eddie wandered over toward the dart boards with beers in hand. A local band was setting up in the corner, tuning guitars and testing microphones while conversations drifted through the crowded room.

Meanwhile, across the room, Steve lined up a shot at the dart board while Eddie leaned against the wall beside him. The dart landed with a satisfying thunk.

"Ha."

"Congratulations," Eddie deadpanned. "You're winning against a mechanic."

Steve ignored him. For a minute, they stood there in comfortable silence, watching the girls at the booth. Harper was talking animatedly about something while Violet argued with her. You sat between them, laughing at whatever ridiculous story was being told.

Then Steve glanced sideways. "So."

Eddie sighed immediately. "No."

"I didn't even say anything."

"You were about to."

Steve threw another dart. "You gonna tell me what's going on there?"

Eddie looked offended. "Nothing's going on."

"Bullshit."

"Steve."

"Eddie."

The older man took a sip of his beer, and Steve pointed subtly toward your booth.

"You talked to her almost the entire barbecue."

"We were talking."

"You were talking."

"That's what I said."

Steve stared, and Eddie stared back. Neither moved, then finally Steve sighed.

"I feel like I'm watching a train derail in slow motion."

"Jesus Christ."

"Eddie."

"What?"

"That's your daughter's best friend."

"I know who she is."

Steve rubbed his face. "I liked you better when your bad decisions only affected you."

Eddie barked out a laugh despite himself. "Nothing's happening."

Steve looked like he wanted to believe him, then his expression changed when his eyes drifted toward the bar. Eddie followed his gaze and immediately wished he hadn't.

Because sometime during the conversation, Violet and Harper had wandered over to grab another round of drinks. You'd stayed behind at the booth, scrolling through the jukebox selections alone.

Unfortunately, somebody else had noticed. A guy. Young, mid-twenties maybe. Definitely closer to your age than Eddie's. The guy leaned casually against the edge of your booth and said something.

You smiled politely, and the guy smiled wider. Eddie's jaw tightened instantly. Steve saw it happen in real time. 

"Oh no."

"I'm fine."

"You are absolutely not fine."

"I'm completely fine."

The guy sat down at your booth, across from you, knee brushing yours slightly under the table. Steve physically winced.

"Oh, that's bad."

"I'm gonna go say hi."

"You don't know him."

"I know enough."

"Eddie."

But Eddie was already moving. Across the room, you were only half paying attention to whatever the guy was saying.

Something about being from Indianapolis. Something about visiting family. Something about your tattoos. Honestly, he seemed perfectly nice.

Then suddenly his expression changed, and you frowned.

"What?"

The guy glanced up and immediately looked nervous. A familiar tattooed arm draped itself across the back of your booth, then another appeared on the opposite side, boxing you in completely.

"Oh," Eddie said pleasantly. "There you are, sweetheart."

The guy looked between the two of you. "Oh."

Eddie smiled, but not his real smile. The dangerous one. The one you'd already learned meant trouble. "Sorry, man. Didn't realize somebody was sitting here."

The guy stood up so fast he nearly knocked his drink over. "No, no, you're good."

"Mhm." Eddie never stopped smiling.

The guy made a very quick decision. "Well. Nice meeting you." Then he practically disappeared into the crowd.

The second he was gone, you looked up at Eddie.

"Eddie."

"What?"

"What was that?"

He looked genuinely confused. "I came to say hi."

You stared, and he stared back, for approximately three seconds. Then you started laughing, because somehow that was even less convincing than whatever excuse he'd intended to use.

"You are ridiculous."

"Maybe." His grin softened, then he brushed his fingers briefly against your shoulder. "Just checking on you."

The warmth in his voice immediately ruined any chance of staying annoyed.

"You're impossible."

"Been told that."

A few minutes later, after you'd disappeared toward the restroom, Eddie eventually wandered back to the dart boards, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

Steve was waiting with a beer in hand and a flat expression.

Eddie immediately knew. "No."

"Seriously?"

"What?"

"Seriously?"

Eddie grabbed another dart while Steve pointed toward the booth.

"The kid practically evacuated."

"He left."

"You ran him off."

"I didn't run him off."

"Eddie."

"He made his own choices."

Steve laughed in disbelief. "You are forty years old."

"Thirty-nine."

"That somehow makes this worse."

Eddie threw his dart. Bullseye. "Don't."

Steve stared at him for a second, then looked toward the bathroom where you'd disappeared, then back toward Eddie. Then finally sighed. "You're screwed."

The second you came back from the bathroom, Eddie was waiting. Not in an obvious way, not standing outside the door like some lovesick teenager. Just leaning casually against the dart board wall with a beer in one hand and entirely too much amusement in his eyes.

The second he spotted you weaving through the crowd, his face brightened ever so slightly. A tiny thing, small enough that most people wouldn't notice it.

"Sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes as you approached. "Don't."

"Don't what?"

"Whatever this is."

Eddie grinned. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about."

"Liar."

"Prove it."

You opened your mouth, then closed it, because annoyingly enough, you couldn't. Which only made his smile wider.

"That's what I thought."

"You're insufferable."

"And yet."

"And yet nothing."

"And yet you're still standing here." You hated when he had a point, especially when he looked so pleased about it.

The dart board behind him sat abandoned now, Steve having wandered off to join his wife and Harper near the booths. A few empty lanes sat open, and before you could stop him, Eddie was already pulling a set of darts from the board.

"You ever play?"

You eyed them suspiciously. "Not really."

"Oh."

The grin returned, the dangerous one. "Perfect."

Immediately, you groaned. "No."

"Yes."

"Eddie."

"C'mon."

The next thing you knew, a dart had been pressed into your hand. Five minutes later, you were learning very quickly that Eddie Munson was the most distracting teacher alive. Because at first, he genuinely tried, for all of about thirty seconds.

"You wanna hold it like this."

His hand settled over yours; warm, calloused, and large enough to completely engulf your grip. Your stomach betrayed you immediately, then he stepped behind you, which was somehow worse.

"Oh, my god."

"What?"

"You know exactly what."

"I am literally teaching you darts."

His voice was directly beside your ear, maybe lower, and definitely rougher. You hated him.

"You stand like this."

His hands settled briefly on your hips, “adjusting”, supposedly. The problem was that neither of you seemed particularly focused on darts anymore.

Your heart was pounding loud enough that you were worried somebody else would hear it while Eddie leaned slightly closer.

"Relax."

"I am relaxed."

"You just missed the board entirely."

You looked, and the dart was currently embedded in the wall. "...Okay."

Eddie barked out a laugh, the sound vibrating straight through your chest. "See?"

"Shut up."

"Can't."

His hand slid down your arm, adjusting your grip again. You were beginning to suspect the lesson wasn't real.

Across the room, Steve looked up from his booth and immediately regretted it. "Oh, for the love of God." His wife followed his gaze, then immediately started laughing.

Meanwhile, Harper and Violet were sitting across from one another sharing fries. Harper watched the dart situation unfold for approximately thirty seconds, then another thirty. Then finally turned toward her friend.

"Can I ask you something?"

Violet didn't even look up from her food. "You already are."

"Does this not bother you?"

For the first time all night, Violet's attention shifted toward the dart boards. Toward you. Toward her father. You were laughing at something Eddie had said. Head tipped back, smile huge, the kind of laugh that made your entire face light up.

Violet's expression softened immediately, and the sarcasm disappeared for a second. "Honestly?"

Harper nodded. Violet watched you for another moment before speaking. "No."

Harper looked surprised. "Really?"

"Nope."

Her fingers traced the rim of her drink absentmindedly. "That's probably the happiest she's looked in years."

Something in her tone made Harper pause. "What do you mean?"

Violet was quiet for a second. "Freshman year."

Harper waited.

"There was this guy."

Immediately Harper winced. "Oh."

"Yeah."

The response alone said enough. "Bad?"

"Not physically." Violet sighed. "But he spent two years making her feel like everything about her was too much."

Her eyes drifted back toward you, toward the smile currently plastered across your face.

"He hated her music,” she laughed softly. "Hated her clothes. Hated her tattoos. Thought she was dramatic every time she had feelings."

Harper frowned. "What a dick."

"Exactly."

The relationship had ended almost two years ago now, yet Harper noticed something sad in Violet's expression anyway.

"She hasn't dated since."

Across the room, Eddie was currently saying something that had you doubled over laughing. Whatever it was made him grin too. The look on his face wasn't subtle, not even a little.

And for some reason, instead of making Violet uncomfortable, it made her chest feel warm.

Because she remembered crying with you in your dorm room, remembered helping you pick up the pieces afterward. Remembered all the nights you'd insisted nobody would ever actually want all of you.

Not the loud parts. Not the messy parts. Not the emotional parts. All of it. Yet there you were, laughing, flirting, happy, for the first time in forever.

Harper followed her gaze, then smiled. "Oh."

"Yeah."

Violet grinned into her drink. "Besides."

"What?"

She looked back toward her father, then toward you and smirked that usual Munson smirk. "My dad's obsessed with her."

Across the room, Eddie's hand settled briefly against the small of your back as he helped you line up another throw.

Harper burst out laughing. "Obsessed is an understatement."

A couple hours later, the Hideout had gotten significantly louder.

The local band had long since started playing, conversations were being shouted over music, and somehow your group had managed to push three tables together into one giant mess of empty baskets, beer bottles, and half-finished stories. Steve's wife had eventually given up trying to keep everyone organized, settling instead into laughing at the chaos from a safe distance.

You, unfortunately, were drunk. Not blackout drunk, not Violet-at-the-lake drunk, but definitely drunk enough that everything felt pleasantly fuzzy around the edges.

Unfortunately, Eddie seemed to be in exactly the same boat, which was proving dangerous for everyone involved, especially you. Because sober Eddie at least attempted restraint. Drunk Eddie apparently thought personal space was a government conspiracy.

By ten-thirty, his arm had somehow become permanently draped across the back of your chair. Every time he laughed, he leaned into you. Every time he told a story, his hand found your shoulder, your arm, the small of your back. The man seemed physically incapable of existing more than six inches away from you.

And the worst part? You weren't exactly discouraging it.

"You are so full of shit."

Eddie pressed a hand dramatically over his heart. "That hurts, sweetheart."

"You're lying."

"I'm embellishing."

"That's just lying with confidence."

Steve nearly choked on his drink. "Jesus Christ, she's got your number."

"I don't like this," Eddie muttered.

"You love it."

"Maybe."

The answer came so fast that the entire table immediately started laughing. Harper physically dropped her head onto the table. "Oh, my god."

"What?" Eddie asked.

"Nothing."

"It was definitely something."

Across from you, Violet was grinning into her drink like this was the greatest show she'd ever witnessed. "He's not even trying anymore."

"I'm sitting right here."

"I know." The grin only got bigger.

By eleven-thirty, Steve had finally announced that he was taking his wife home before Harper somehow got herself banned from the establishment.

"I've done nothing wrong."

Steve pointed. "You started three separate arguments."

"I won all three."

"Goodnight, Harper."

The group slowly began breaking apart after that. Goodbyes were exchanged. Tabs were closed. Chairs scraped across the floor as people gathered their things. You stood up and immediately regretted it as the room tilted slightly.

"Oh."

Eddie looked over. "Oh no."

"I'm fine."

"You almost walked into a table."

"The table moved."

"The table did not move."

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously at the furniture, and Eddie started laughing so hard he nearly doubled over. Ten minutes later, you were outside in the warm summer air waiting while Steve finished saying goodbye to someone.

The night was quiet compared to the noise of the bar. Crickets chirped in the distance while streetlights cast soft yellow pools across the pavement. You were halfway through explaining a very important theory about why raccoons probably conversed through telekinesis when Eddie suddenly crouched in front of you.

"What're you doing?"

He pointed at your shoes. "You can't walk."

"I can absolutely walk."

To prove your point, you immediately stumbled. Eddie looked at Violet, and Violet looked at Eddie. The two of them started laughing.

"I hate everybody."

"No, you don't."

Then, before you could argue, Eddie hooked an arm behind your knees. You squeaked as the ground beneath you disappeared. "Oh, my god."

"There we go."

"Eddie!"

Suddenly you were being carried like it was nothing. One arm beneath your legs, the other supporting your back. You stared at him, and he stared back.

"What?"

"You picked me up."

"Congratulations."

"You're carrying me."

"Mhm."

"Why?"

"Because you're drunk."

You considered this. "Fair."

Violet made a choking noise behind you. When you looked over, she was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes.

"What is wrong with you?"

"Nothing."

"You look insane."

She pointed. "No, you look insane."

The walk home wasn't particularly long, but apparently that didn't matter. Because every time you suggested being put down, Eddie refused, every single time.

At one point, you wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your cheek against his shoulder. The man practically preened.

"Look at him," Violet whispered.

"Oh my god," Harper whispered back.

"He loves this."

"He absolutely loves this."

Eddie ignored both of them, or pretended to. The smile he was trying to hide said otherwise. By the time the Munson house came into view, you'd gone completely boneless against him, warm and sleepy from the alcohol and the summer air.

"Comfortable?"

"Mhm."

"Good."

You hummed contentedly. Behind you, Violet immediately gagged.

"Dad."

"What?"

"You're gross."

"Am not."

"Are so. You carried her two miles."

"It was half a mile."

"You know that's not the point."

Eddie just laughed, then adjusted his grip slightly and carried you up the front steps anyway. By the time you got inside, Harper was heading toward her own car parked down the street. She paused halfway down the driveway, pointing between you and Eddie.

"I'm not saying anything."

"Good," Eddie called.

"But I'm thinking a lot."

"Harper."

She grinned. "Night, lovebirds."

Then she disappeared before either of you could throw something at her. The second the front door opened, Violet immediately announced, "I am going to bed before one of you says or does something that permanently changes my brain chemistry."

You barked out a laugh. "You are so dramatic."

Violet looked toward the ceiling as if she were asking God for patience. "Goodnight." Without another word, she disappeared down the hall, and a few seconds later, her bedroom door slammed.

Eddie finally set you down on the couch like you were something fragile, which was ridiculous. You immediately sank into the cushions with a satisfied sigh.

"Oh."

His mouth twitched. "What?"

"This couch is amazing."

"It's literally a couch."

"It's a really good couch."

"You're drunk."

You pointed at him. "So are you."

"Yeah." At least he was honest.

Eddie snorted softly and dropped down onto the floor in front of you, resting his arms across his knees. The position put him directly between your legs. Not touching, but close enough that your foot bumped his shoulder.

The soft yellow kitchen light caught the amber in his eyes while he looked up at you. God, the man was unfair. His curls had mostly fallen out of the bun by now, loose strands hanging around his face. His cheeks were flushed from alcohol and laughter, eyes warm and heavy-lidded.

You were in trouble.

"So."

You narrowed your eyes. "So."

Eddie grinned. "You're drunk."

You gasped dramatically. "The audacity."

Eddie laughed, head tipping back slightly, and suddenly you understood why everybody in Hawkins liked him so much.

It wasn't just that he was funny. It was that he laughed with his entire body, like he genuinely enjoyed existing, like he enjoyed being around you. The thought made your stomach flutter.

"You know," you said after a moment.

"Oh boy."

"You scared that guy away."

Eddie immediately looked innocent. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Liar."

"I'm serious."

"You practically chased him out of the Hideout."

His grin widened. "He left on his own accord."

"Mmhm."

"He did."

"Eddie."

The man actually had the nerve to shrug. "He seemed like a smart kid."

You laughed. "Oh, my god."

"What?"

"You were jealous."

His eyebrows shot upward. "Jealous?"

"Very."

"Of a twenty-something wearing boat shoes?"

You burst out laughing since the immediate answer told you everything. "Aha."

"No."

"That's not a denial."

"It is."

"It was a terrible denial."

Eddie rubbed a hand over his face, trying and failing to hide a smile. "You are exhausting."

"Because I'm right."

"You're not."

"You totally are."

The two of you stared at each other, then Eddie sighed dramatically. "Maybe I didn't love him talking to you."

Victory. You pointed immediately. "I knew it."

"Oh, don't look so proud of yourself."

"I am."

"You shouldn't be."

But he was smiling again, the soft kind this time, the one that made your chest feel warm. His eyes drifted across your face for a second before he spoke again.

"You know what my problem is?"

"What?"

Eddie leaned back slightly against the couch. "I forget how old you are."

You blinked. "What?"

"I spend all day talking to you and hanging out with you, and it feels normal." His voice had gotten quieter. "Then some guy your age walks over, and suddenly I remember you're twenty-one."

You stared at him, because there wasn't really a joke hidden inside that one. Eddie looked away first, shaking his head. "Forget I said that."

"No."

His eyes returned to yours. "No?"

"No."

"I like talking to you." The confession left your mouth before you could stop it.

Eddie's expression softened instantly. "Yeah?"

You nodded. "Yeah."

Something warm flashed across his face, like you'd handed him something precious.

"Good." The word came out almost embarrassingly gentle.

For a second neither of you spoke, neither of you seemed particularly interested in breaking whatever this was. Then Eddie glanced upward, down the hall towards Violet’s room. And a mischievous grin slowly appeared.

"Oh."

You immediately recognized that look. "What?"

"I just realized something."

"Eddie."

"If you become my girlfriend—"

"Oh, my god."

"—Vi is gonna be so annoying about it."

You laughed so hard you nearly fell sideways off the couch. 

You were still smiling when you looked down at Eddie. He was resting his arms on the couch cushion beside your legs now, chin tilted upward as he watched you.

"You know," you said quietly, "I think Harper's gonna make fun of me tomorrow."

Eddie snorted. "Harper's gonna make fun of me tomorrow."

"Fair."

"Steve definitely is."

"Oh, absolutely."

The thought made you laugh again, and Eddie smiled immediately at the sound. God. There it was; that damn look again. The one he'd been giving you all summer. The one that always felt like he was seeing something in you that nobody else quite did.

Neither of you spoke, just slowly drifted closer until the distance between you felt ridiculous. Then Eddie's hand settled lightly against your knee. A question, not a demand, just an invitation.

You answered by leaning forward first. The kiss was soft, almost embarrassingly sweet compared to the way you'd started things the first night. Just Eddie smiling against your mouth halfway through it because apparently he couldn't help himself.

"Hi," he murmured.

You laughed. "Hi."

"Thought about doing that all night."

"You're impossible."

"Been told."

His thumb traced absentminded circles against your leg while he looked up at you. For a second, neither of you spoke. Then the thought slipped out before you could stop it.

"Would you actually want that?"

Eddie's brows knit together slightly. "What?"

You suddenly felt nervous, which was stupid, but there it was anyway. "The girlfriend thing."

"What?"

You shrugged awkwardly. "Earlier."

When realization dawned, something softened in his face. "Sweetheart."

The nickname came out quieter than usual. You looked away first, which only made him smile.

"Yeah."

Your eyes snapped back to his. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." There wasn't even a second of hesitation.

His hand slid over yours. "I wouldn't joke about that."

Your stomach did an embarrassing little flip. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

You laughed softly, and Eddie squeezed your hand once. "So?"

"So?"

He grinned. "Would you?"

You immediately narrowed your eyes. "Oh, now who's asking questions?"

"Me."

"You can't just reverse it."

"I absolutely can."

You laughed despite yourself, then looked down at your intertwined fingers. At the rings on his hand. At the way he was watching you.

"I'd think about it."

Eddie barked out a laugh. "You'd think about it?"

"I would."

"That's cold."

You nudged his shoulder with your foot. "Shut up."

"I'm serious."

"You should be grateful I'm considering it at all."

His grin widened. "Considering it."

"Mhm."

"Well."

The look that crossed his face immediately made you suspicious. "What?"

Eddie stood slowly, still holding your hand, still smiling. "I might have a way to improve my chances."

"Oh, do you?"

"Mhm." Eddie’s grin turns wicked as he tugs you up from the couch by your hand, pulling you flush against his chest.

“You’ve been teasing me all damn night in this little skirt,” he murmurs, voice dropping low. “Then some college prick thinks he can talk to you at the bar? Nah. I think it’s time I remind you exactly who this pussy belongs to.”

He doesn’t give you time to respond. Instead, he walks you backward down the hallway, kissing you hard, tongue claiming your mouth while his hands slide under your skirt and grab two handfuls of your ass. The second his bedroom door shuts, the switch flips completely.

“Clothes off. Now.”

You move fast, but apparently not fast enough. Eddie spins you around, bends you over the edge of his bed, and yanks your skirt and panties down in one rough motion. He kicks your legs wider, drops to his knees, and buries his face in your cunt from behind without warning.

“Fuck— Eddie!”

He eats you like a man starved. Messy, loud, and filthy. Long drags of his tongue, sucking hard on your clit, then fucking his tongue into you while his grip on your hips keeps you pinned exactly where he wants you. You’re already shaking by the time he pulls back, lips shiny.

“Think that little boy at the bar could eat this pussy like that?” he growls, standing up and shoving two thick fingers into you. “You think any of those college boys could make you drip down their chin the way you do for me?”

You moan helplessly, pushing back on his fingers. He curls them perfectly, stroking that spot that makes your knees buckle. He flips you onto your back on the bed, strips his shirt off, then yanks his belt open. His cock springs out, hard and leaking, but he doesn’t fuck you yet.

Instead, he reaches into the nightstand and pulls out the black vibrator.

“Eddie—”

“Yeah, baby?” His smile is dark, predatory. “Gonna make you so fucking sensitive you forget any other man exists.”

He clicks it on and presses the buzzing head directly against your swollen clit. At the same time, he pushes his cock into you in one slow, deep thrust. You cry out, back arching hard.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groans, bottoming out. “So goddamn tight. This pussy was made for me.”

He starts fucking you in hard, steady strokes while the vibrator stays glued to your clit. The dual sensation is overwhelming — his thick cock stretching you open, dragging against your walls, and the relentless buzz making your thighs tremble violently.

“Look at you,” he taunts, voice rough as he leans over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other keeping the vibrator exactly where he wants it. “Taking my cock so fucking well. You’d never go back to some twenty-one-year-old loser after this, would you?”

You shake your head frantically, moaning loudly.

“Say it.”

“I—I wouldn’t,” you gasp. “Never— fuck, Eddie—”

He clicks the vibrator up a setting, and your eyes roll back.

“That’s right. Because no college boy is ever gonna fuck you like I do. None of them are gonna make you come so many times you can’t even speak. None of them know how to ruin this pretty cunt the way I do.”

He fucks you harder, hips snapping, the wet sound of you obscene in the room. The vibrator never leaves your clit, and you come the first time with a broken cry, clenching around his cock so hard he curses.

But he doesn’t stop. He keeps the vibrator pressed tight, keeps thrusting deep, drawing out every aftershock until you’re whimpering, oversensitive and twitching.

“Too much— Eddie, please—”

“You can take it,” he growls, leaning down to bite at your neck. “You’re gonna come again. Gonna soak my cock while you’re crying for me.”

He angles his hips just right and turns the vibrator even higher, and the overstimulation hits like a freight train. You’re sobbing his name, nails raking down his back, legs shaking uncontrollably as another brutal orgasm rips through you.

Only then does he pull the vibrator away, toss it aside, and fuck you like he’s trying to claim you completely. Deep, punishing strokes. His hand wraps around your throat tight, and high enough to hold you there while he stares into your eyes.

“Say you’re mine,” he demands, voice wrecked. “Say you’ll be mine. Let me take care of you all fucking summer. Hell, however long you’ll let me.”

“I’m yours,” you moan, voice hoarse. “I’ll be your girlfriend, whatever you want—fuck, I’m yours, Eddie—”

He kisses you filthy and deep, then buries himself to the hilt and comes hard, groaning your name against your mouth as he fills you. For a minute, the only sounds are your ragged breathing.

Eddie pulls out gently, then collapses beside you and immediately pulls you into his arms. His hands are soft now, stroking down your back, pressing kisses to your sweaty forehead, your cheeks, your lips.

“You okay?” he murmurs, voice gentle again.

You nod, still trembling. “Yeah… Jesus Christ.”

He chuckles lowly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Good. Because I meant every word. I want you to be mine, not just for the summer.”

You smile against his chest, pressing a kiss over one of his tattoos.

“Yeah,” you whisper. “I think I want that too.”

Eddie’s arms tighten around you, and for the first time all night, his smile is soft.

“That’s my girl.”

hope you guys liked it ;)

taglist:

@bitterestwillow@kozume-ko, @obsessed-eddie, @doomdabss, @julxsxx, @leelei1980@hexqueensupreme @ches-86 @plaidamoosette @bobiverses@meadows-of-asphodel @whitakerstorm @dreamerjj @sariahs-stuff @brrrainst3w @serendipdipity01 @hypersexytoptobottom @m-art000 @sisteramycatherine @walleloveseve @camsmunson101 @flavorfullstevepeachpuffs25 @abirdinthehouse @m-art000 @micheledawn1975  @whitakerstorm @cciessuzi @blackqueenie-18 @ggdawgg @velvetdimond @enne02     @ludachrissy @izzycstairs@abbysleftbicepp @britttzy267 @ssculker @eddiemunsonsimpp @powerpuffedbjtch @lilyquinnmunson

“You’re going to absolutely hate it here.” Your roommate, Violet, says, nodding towards the Welcome to Hawkins Hell sign. 

“You’re such a delight, y’know that?” You retort, taking a puff of your cigarette.

“I’m just saying! Why you agreed to spend the summer with my dad and I is beyond me. Hawkins is literally the most boring town on the entire planet.”

“‘On the entire planet’ is a stretch, Vi. I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it so is. I mean, look at that,” she motions towards the line of storefronts. “This town is stuck in the 70’s, terminally. We have to drive 20 minutes to get decent coffee. It’s deplorable.” 

You roll your eyes and shake your head, exhaling a plume of smoke out of the window. Was spending your entire summer break in small town Indiana your idea of a perfect summer? No, not by a long shot. 

But it was by all means better than going back to your house, dealing with your dad, and that witch of a step-mom. So, summer break in Hawkins with Violet and her dad seemed like the lesser of two evils. 

Besides, Violet was your best friend. You two met eachother freshman year due to random roommate assignments, and clicked off the jump. The second she started hanging Dio and Iron Maiden posters up, you knew you’d be thick as thieves. 

Not just because of the music, either. Violet looked like she’d crawled straight out of a metal magazine and into your dorm room. Dark curly hair always messy in an intentional sort of way, tattoos peeking out from under shredded band tees and leather jackets, no matter the weather. 

And somehow, you matched her freak perfectly.

The two of you moved through campus like a matched set; all dark clothes, tattoos, cigarette smoke, chunky silver jewelry, and enough attitude to make frat boys cross the street.

People always assumed you’d known each other forever. Maybe because you looked like alternate universe versions of the same girl.

Or maybe because Violet Munson was so painfully, undeniably her father’s daughter. And here you are, the summer into your senior year, and you’re closer than ever, living together for all four years.

“Alright, here we are. Home sweet shithole,” she mutters, pulling into her driveway.

Her house was not a shithole by any standard. It was a quaint, brick bi-level house with a dark blue door and bushes lining the sides. Sure, the lawn was a little overgrown, but that’s to be expected of a single dad who works long hours as a mechanic.

The driveway’s littered with evidence of him, too. A toolbox near the garage. Empty beer bottles sitting on the porch railing. A faded Corroded Coffin bumper sticker slapped crookedly onto an old cooler.

You snort softly as you climb out of the passenger seat. “Yeah, this is devastatingly awful, Vi. I may never recover.”

“Shut up,” she laughs, popping the trunk.

The summer air is thick and humid, wrapping around your skin instantly. Cicadas scream somewhere in the trees while Violet digs through her bag before triumphantly holding up a joint between two black-painted nails.

“Oh, thank God,” you sigh dramatically.

“Priorities.”

You lean against the hood while she lights it, the flame briefly illuminating the silver hoop through her nose. She takes the first hit before passing it over to you without a word.

It was easy with Violet, always had been.

You inhale slowly, letting your shoulders finally relax for what feels like the first time in months.

“Y’know,” Violet says, exhaling smoke toward the sky, “my dad’s gonna love you.”

You bark out a laugh. “You say that now.”

“No, seriously. You’re literally his exact type.”

You nearly choke. “Vi?”

“What?” she grins. “Hot goth women with emotional issues and nicotine addictions. That’s basically his demographic.”

“Ew, Vi!”

“I’m just being honest!”

Before you can respond, the low growl of an engine cuts through the quiet, and Violet immediately glances toward the street. A black-and-white van pulls into the driveway beside you both. Older model, and loud as hell.

“Speaking of the devil,” Violet mutters.

Your eyes widen slightly. “Shit, should we put this out?”

Violet looks genuinely confused. “Why?”

The driver’s side door swings open before you can answer. And oh, okay.

You expected an older guy, maybe tired-looking. Greasy coveralls. Generic middle-aged dad energy.

Not…him.

Not Eddie stepping out of the van in a black sleeveless Metallica shirt, grease smeared along his tattooed forearms, dark curls sticking to his forehead from the heat.

Late thirties, maybe early forties, sure. Still, unfairly hot.

“Hey, hon,” he calls toward Violet before his eyes land on you. They pause, just for a second too long.

Violet smirks immediately, clocking it. “Dad, this is the roommate I’ve been telling you about. Y’know, the one with functioning brain cells?”

“Mm.” His gaze flicks over you again, amused. “Heard a lot about you.”

You open your mouth to respond, suddenly very aware of the joint between your fingers.

Eddie notices too. Without missing a beat, he steps forward, plucks it right from your hand, and takes a drag like it belongs to him.

“Gotta make sure it’s not poison,” he says casually, smoke curling from his grin.

Up close, he smells faintly like motor oil, cigarette smoke, and something woodsy underneath it all. Cologne, maybe. Or just him. Unfortunately for you, it works.

“So,” he says, handing the joint back to you this time instead of Violet, “you’re the famous roommate.”

You snort softly. “Famous feels generous.”

“Nah, trust me. I’ve heard plenty.” He points toward Violet with his chin. “This one calls me every other day bitching about classes, professors, existential crises—”

“Okay, wow.”

“—and somehow your name always comes up.”

Violet flips him off immediately. “You’re obsessed with me.”

“You’re my kid. Kinda legally obligated.”

He grins when she groans dramatically, and for a second, it clicks so clearly it’s almost stupid.

The resemblance. Not necessarily in exact features, though they definitely share the same eyes and dark curls. It’s the energy. The sarcasm. The loud personality packed into black clothes and silver jewelry.

Violet really is just a female version of him, which suddenly explains a lot.

Eddie turns his attention back toward you.

“But seriously.” He gestures vaguely around the neighborhood. “Why the hell’d you agree to spend your summer in Hawkins? If Vi didn’t already mention, sweetheart, this town sucks.”

You take another drag to buy yourself a second.

Because going home meant screaming matches and slammed doors. Because your dad somehow always found a way to make you feel seventeen again in the worst possible sense. Because your stepmother looked at you like something inconvenient she accidentally stepped in.

Instead, you shrug one shoulder casually. “Figured I’d switch it up this summer.”

“Mm.” That’s all Eddie says, just that soft little hum.

But his eyes linger on you for a second too long, like he hears the thing you’re not saying anyway.

Thankfully, Violet cuts in before the moment can settle too heavily. “Dad, tell her who’s coming over later.”

“Oh, right.” Eddie pushes off the van slightly. “Gruncle Wayne’s coming for dinner.”

You blink. “...Gruncle?”

Eddie immediately looks offended. “You never heard of a gruncle?”

“No sane person says gruncle.”

“It’s efficient!”

Violet laughs around her next hit before explaining, “Wayne’s technically my great uncle, but he’s basically my grandpa, so. Gruncle.”

“And he practically raised me,” Eddie adds, softer this time. “My uncle Wayne’s a good guy.”

There’s something fond in his expression when he says it. 

You smile slightly. “Okay, gruncle’s actually kinda cute with context.”

“Thank you,” Eddie says dramatically, pointing at you. “See? She gets it.”

“Oh my god,” Violet mutters. “You found one person willing to entertain you, and now you’re never gonna shut up.”

“Correct.”

Eddie takes the joint from your fingers again before you can protest, bumping your shoulder lightly with his own as he does it. Still enough to make your stomach do something embarrassingly stupid.

“C’mon,” Violet says eventually, nudging off the van. “Before my dad starts his old man routine and lectures us about unloading the car.”

“I heard that,” Eddie calls behind you both.

“Good.”

You laugh quietly, grabbing one of your bags from the trunk while Eddie takes the heavier suitcase before you can argue. “Oh, I can—”

“Nope.” He shuts the trunk with one hand. “Guest privilege.”

“You say that now.”

“Sweetheart, I survived raising her.” He jerks his head toward Violet. “Nothing scares me anymore.”

“Wow.” Violet dramatically places a hand over her heart. “And in front of company.”

The inside of the house feels exactly like you expected, somehow. Warm lighting. Faint smell of coffee and cigarettes lingering in the air. Records stacked beside the stereo. Band posters framed on the walls like actual art pieces.

The kind of house where people actually exist in it instead of just passing through. Which weirdly makes something in your chest ache a little.

Violet leads you down the hallway while Eddie disappears toward the kitchen, already calling out something about beer and Wayne coming over “starving as usual.”

Then Violet swings open a door dramatically. “And here,” she announces, “is your luxurious guest suite.”

You step inside and immediately laugh. The “guest room” is really just a room someone shoved a bed into and hoped for the best.

There’s a full-length mirror leaning against the wall, an old wooden chair covered in clothes, and approximately six guitars scattered around the room alongside amps and tangled cords. Cases were shoved beneath the bed, and picks littered the nightstand.

You turn slowly. “...Jesus Christ.”

“I told you,” Violet grins. “My dad has a guitar hoarding problem.”

A voice pipes up from behind you instantly. “They are lovingly curated.”

You glance back to find Eddie leaning against the doorway now, beer bottle in hand. His eyes flick toward the guitar case slung over your shoulder, then back to you.

“Wait,” he says, straightening slightly. “You play?”

Something about how immediately excited he sounds makes you smile. “A little.”

“A little,” Violet repeats mockingly. “She’s being humble. She’s good.”

“Oh shit.” Eddie points at you like this is groundbreaking information. “You didn't tell me that!”

“You literally met me twenty minutes ago.”

“And you decided to withhold that valuable piece of information.”

Violet gestures vaguely around the room. “Unfortunately, there’s no space left for your guitar because my father and I are addicts.”

“Hey,” Eddie says defensively. “Half this stuff is yours.”

“Yeah, because you fed into my addiction.”

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

Violet snorts while Eddie grins into his beer bottle, and again, that warmth settles over the entire house so naturally that it almost catches you off guard. Like this is just what they’re like.

Loud, sarcastic, comfortable with each other; a real family. It makes your chest feel weird in a way you don’t want to unpack right now.

“Well,” Eddie says after another second, pushing off the doorway. “Make yourself at home, sweetheart. Wayne’ll be here in an hour, and if Vi didn’t warn you already, he’s gonna interrogate you lovingly.”

“I’ll prepare myself emotionally.”

“Good plan.”

His eyes flick toward you one last time before he disappears down the hallway. And the second he’s gone, Violet whips and pulls you toward her room so fast it’s genuinely alarming.

“Oh my god.”

You narrow your eyes immediately. “Don’t.”

“You think my dad’s hot.”

“I do not—”

“You absolutely do.”

“Violet.”

“He stole the joint from you, and you let him.”

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” She throws herself dramatically onto her bed. “Honestly? Respect.”

You scoff, sitting beside her. “Your father is like forty.”

“Thirty-nine.”

“That does not help your case.”

“It kinda does.”

You grab one of her throw pillows and smack her with it immediately while she cackles. “You’re insane.”

“And you wanna fuck my dad.”

“Oh, my god.”

“I’m just saying—”

“It’s all fun and games until I become your stepmom or something.” The words leave your mouth entirely on instinct.

Then Violet sits bolt upright so fast it’s horrifying, and her eyes widen. Then slowly, slowly, a grin spreads across her face so evil it should honestly be studied professionally.

“Oh,” she says. “Oh, this summer is about to be so interesting.”

“You’re a sick individual, y'know that?” 

About forty-five minutes later, the house smells like takeout pizza, cigarette smoke drifting in from the open kitchen window, and whatever cologne Eddie sprayed on himself after his shower.

Not that you noticed, at all. Heh. 

You’re perched on the counter beside Violet, nursing a beer while she digs through the fridge for ranch. Eddie’s leaning against the opposite counter in a fresh shirt now, curls still damp at the ends from his shower, tattoos on full display beneath pushed-up sleeves.

Which feels targeted, honestly.

Then the front door swings open. “Hellooo!” a voice calls.

“Kitchen!” Violet yells back instantly.

Heavy footsteps echo through the house before an older man appears around the corner carrying a twelve-pack under one arm.

Wayne looks exactly how you imagined he would, somehow. Weathered Carhartt jacket despite the heat, graying beard, tired kind eyes. The sort of face that looks permanently worn in from years of hard work and little sleep.

The second Violet sees him, she hops off the counter. “Gruncle!”

“There’s my girl.” Wayne smiles immediately, opening one arm for her to hug him. “Missed me already?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Brat.”

He presses a kiss to the top of her head anyway before finally noticing you standing there beside Eddie.

Wayne pauses, looks between you and Violet once, then twice.

“What are you two, siamese twins?”

You burst out laughing instantly. Because honestly? Fair.

You and Violet are both standing there in shorts and oversized band tees, tattoos exposed, silver jewelry glinting beneath the kitchen lights like matching warning labels.

“Basically,” Violet says proudly.

Wayne shakes his head fondly before stepping toward you. “Wayne Munson.” He offers his hand. “Nice to finally put a face to the name. Heard about you for years now.”

You shake his hand, smiling. “That bad, huh?”

“Nah.” He jerks a thumb toward Violet. “If she keeps somebody around longer than a semester, they’re usually alright.”

“Wow,” Violet says flatly. “Love the faith in me.”

“You ate glue in second grade.”

“That was one time.”

Wayne ignores her completely, attention turning back toward you. “Where you from, sweetheart?”

“Chicago.”

“Oh, big city girl,” he nods knowingly. “What’d Hawkins ever do to deserve that?”

“She lost a bet,” Eddie says from beside you.

You snort into your beer. “I’m starting to think everyone in this town’s contractually obligated to insult Hawkins at least once an hour.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Eddie says seriously. “It’s tradition.”

The kitchen settles into easy conversation after that. Wayne telling stories about Eddie as a teenager while Violet heckles both of them relentlessly from the counter.

Eddie threatening to expose childhood stories in retaliation. Beer bottles clinking against countertops while some old metal album plays low through the speakers in the living room.

And it’s strange how quickly you settle into it. Like you’ve been in this kitchen before. Like, there’s already a place carved out for you between all their sarcasm and noise.

At one point, Wayne glances toward you while Eddie and Violet argue over music in the other room.

Then he leans slightly closer. Quietly, conspiratorially, he says, “Good luck surviving those two.”

You grin into your beer. “Think I’ll manage.”

By midnight, Violet is fully unconscious. Not dead, despite Eddie checking twice. Just absolutely obliterated by the combination of beer, pizza, and insisting she could “totally outdrink” both you and her father.

Which apparently she could not.

“She gets that from you, by the way,” you whisper as Eddie throws a blanket over her sleeping form, sprawled diagonally across the bed.

“Absolutely not.”

“She literally fell asleep holding a breadstick.”

“That’s called efficiency.”

You laugh quietly while Eddie shakes his head fondly at his daughter before shutting her bedroom door most of the way behind you both.

Wayne headed home an hour ago after dramatically claiming he was “too old for this shit.” The TV’s off. The kitchen cleaned up except for a couple of empty beer bottles sitting beside the sink.

You linger awkwardly for a second in the hallway, then reach into your pocket for your cigarettes.

“I’m gonna go outside for a minute.”

Eddie glances toward the pack in your hand and nods knowingly. “Yeah, me too.”

Of course he is.

The night air is cooler now, wrapping around your bare arms and legs as you step out onto the front porch. Crickets hum loudly in the grass while somewhere down the street, a dog barks once before going quiet again.

Small town silence, the kind you’re still not used to.

You sit on the porch steps while Eddie leans against the railing beside you, flicking his lighter open. The flame briefly catches across his rings and tattoos before he cups it toward your cigarette first.

A gentleman, unfortunately.

“You know,” he says after a second, smoke curling from his mouth, “you’re handling Hawkins suspiciously well so far.”

“I’ve only been here like six hours.”

“And yet you haven’t tried to flee.”

“Maybe I’m waiting until tomorrow.”

“Smart.”

You grin faintly, staring out toward the dark street ahead of you. For a minute, neither of you says anything. Just smoke quietly beside each other while the porch light buzzes overhead.

“So what’s the real reason you came here?”

You glance toward him automatically. “Hm?”

“The real reason.” He gestures vaguely with his cigarette. “Because no offense, sweetheart, but no twenty-one-year-old voluntarily spends their summer in Hawkins unless they’re hiding from something or recovering from something.”

You try to cover it with a laugh. “You always interrogate your daughter’s friends like this?”

“Nah.” His eyes meet yours then. “Just you.”

Your stomach does something deeply irritating. You look away first, exhaling smoke slowly. “My family’s just… a lot.”

Eddie stays quiet, not the impatient kind of silence either. The kind that waits.

You shrug one shoulder eventually. “My dad remarried a couple of years ago. She hates me, I hate her, my dad pretends none of it’s happening.”

“That sucks.”

You glance toward him again. “Yeah. It does.”

He nods once like he understands something you didn’t fully say out loud. Then, because apparently he can sense when you’re getting too vulnerable, the corner of his mouth tugs upward.

“Well.” He takes another drag. “Good news is you’re safe here.”

Your brows lift slightly. “Safe?”

“Yeah.” He gestures toward the house behind you. “Vi likes you, Wayne likes you, and I already decided you’re tolerable.”

You laugh softly. “That so?”

“Mhm.”

“You decide that before or after stealing my joint?”

“That was actually the deciding factor.”

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. Eddie watches you for another second before speaking again.

“Plus,” he adds casually, “you’re pretty.” 

You cough once, glaring immediately while Eddie grins outright now.

“Oh my god,” you mutter. “You flirt like a divorced dad.”

“I am a divorced dad.”

“Were you ever even married?”

“Details.”

You laugh again before you can stop yourself, and Eddie’s expression shifts slightly when he hears it. Like he enjoys making you laugh a little too much already.

Which feels dangerously good. Especially when he looks at you like that beneath the dim porch light, cigarette between his fingers, curls falling into his face while the entire town sleeps around you both.

“For real, though,” he says quietly. “Thanks for being good to my kid.”

The sincerity catches you off guard enough that you blink at him.

Eddie shrugs one shoulder, eyes drifting toward the house behind you. “Vi acts tough, but she’s always had a hard time letting people in. Most people don’t really… stick around.”

“She’s my best friend,” you say simply. “I don’t know where I’d be without her.”

Eddie looks back at you then, and whatever he sees makes something warm settle into his expression.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I can tell.”

Then Eddie clears his throat slightly, the teasing glint returning to his eyes before the moment can get too heavy.

“Still think you’re trouble, though.”

You scoff immediately. “Me?”

“Mhm.” He points at you with his cigarette. “You walked into my house lookin’ like… And now my daughter’s already smoking weed and passed out drunk.”

“She was smoking weed before I got here.”

“Yeah, but now she has an audience.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet,” Eddie says, stepping closer just enough for his shoulder to brush yours lightly again, “you’re still out here talking to me.”

Your stomach flips in the most humiliating way imaginable, especially when he smiles afterward.

You should probably move away; that feels like the smart thing to do here.

Instead, you stay exactly where you are, cigarette dangling loosely between your fingers while Eddie sits close enough now that you can feel the heat coming off him in the cool night air.

Which is maybe a problem. A huge one, actually.

Because he’s your best friend’s dad. Because you’re living in his house all summer. Because Violet would absolutely lose her mind if she knew the way her father was currently looking at you.

And worst of all, because you really, really want him to keep doing it. You exhale slowly, trying to gather at least one coherent thought.

“I dunno if we should do this,” you admit quietly.

Eddie’s brows lift slightly. “Do what?”

“You know what.”

His mouth twitches like he’s trying not to smile. “Sweetheart, all I’ve done is compliment you and steal your weed.”

“You’re flirting with me.”

“Guilty.”

You groan softly, rubbing a hand over your face. “Eddie.”

The way his name sounds coming out of your mouth makes his expression shift for half a second.

Then, casually, as anything, he says: “What, you worried about becoming Vi’s stepmom?”

Your eyes widen so fast it’s honestly embarrassing. Eddie immediately breaks into a grin.

“Oh my god,” you whisper. “She told you?”

“Nope.”

“Then how do you—”

“The walls in this house are paper-thin, sweetheart.” He takes another drag from his cigarette, clearly enjoying your horror. “And you two were not exactly quiet.”

You physically cover your face with both hands. “Oh my fucking god.”

From somewhere behind your palms, you hear Eddie laugh. Entirely too pretty sounding for a man his age, honestly.

“I’m gonna die,” you mumble.

“Nah.”

“I need Violet to actually kill me with her bare hands immediately.”

“She’d probably just ask if she needed to leave the house for us.”

You lower your hands just enough to glare at him. “That is not helping.”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, still visibly amused. “Just tryin’ to make you feel better.”

“You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“A little.”

The porch light catches the silver in his rings when he reaches over and gently pulls your cigarette from your fingers before it burns too close to your skin.

The gesture is so absentmindedly caring that it almost does you in completely. Then he hands his back, and your fingers brush his.

And suddenly neither of you are smiling quite as much anymore. Eddie looks at you for a long second before speaking again, quieter this time.

“Listen,” he says. “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable.”

You shake your head immediately. “You’re not.”

That answer comes out a little too fast. His eyes flick down to your mouth for the briefest second before back up again.

“Good,” he murmurs.

Your heart stumbles over itself. Because there’s something almost unfair about the way he looks at you right now. Like he’s trying very hard to behave himself, and failing a little.

“You’re trouble,” you whisper.

Eddie smiles slowly.

“Sweetheart,” he says softly, “you walked into my house looking like that. We’re way past figuring out who the trouble is.”

The porch conversation lingers for a couple more minutes. Eddie’s looking at you like he’s already decided how the rest of the night is going to go, and you’re pretending your thighs aren’t pressed together under the thin fabric of your sleep shorts.

You don’t remember who moved first. Just that one second you’re both standing there, the next his mouth is on yours; slow at first, like he’s giving you an out, then deeper when you grab the front of his shirt and pull him closer.

He tastes like smoke and mint and something that makes your head spin. His hand slides to the back of your neck, thumb brushing your jaw, rings cool against your flushed skin.

“Inside,” he murmurs against your lips, voice rough. “Before I bend you over these steps like a fucking animal.”

You laugh breathlessly, but your pulse is hammering. He walks you backward through the quiet house, one hand on your waist, the other pushing open the door to his bedroom at the end of the hall.

The second it clicks shut behind you, the restraint snaps.

Eddie kisses you like he’s starving; tongue, teeth, hands everywhere. He peels your tank top off, groans low when he sees you’re not wearing a bra. His mouth is on your tits immediately, sucking hard enough to make you gasp, one hand kneading the other while he backs you toward his bed.

“Been thinking about this since you stepped out of that car,” he admits, voice gravelly. He pushes you down onto the mattress and drops to his knees between your spread thighs like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “Look at you. Fuck.”

He doesn’t tease. He yanks your shorts and panties down in one rough tug, spreads your legs wider, and buries his face in your center like a man on a mission.

You choke on a moan.

He eats you like he’s trying to ruin you for anyone else, long, filthy licks from your entrance to your clit, sucking your clit into his mouth with obscene wet sounds, tongue fucking into you while his hands pin your hips down.

His curls tickle your thighs, nails digging into your skin, and when he groans against you, the vibration shoots straight up your spine.

“Eddie...fuck—”

He pulls back just enough to look up at you, lips shiny, eyes dark. “Taste so fucking good, sweetheart. College boys ever eat this pretty pussy like this?” 

He dives back in before you can answer, two thick fingers sliding into you, curling just right.

You swear under your breath, hips grinding against his face. He doesn’t let up. Not when your thighs start shaking. Not when you’re whimpering his name like a prayer.

He sucks your clit hard and curls his fingers again, and you come so suddenly it punches the air out of your lungs, back arching off the bed.

He keeps licking you through it, gentler now, until you’re twitching and oversensitive.

When he finally pulls back, his chin is glistening. He wipes it with the back of his hand like it’s nothing, then stands up and strips his shirt off. The sight of him, tattoos, scars, that happy trail leading down into his jeans, makes your mouth water.

He grabs something from the nightstand drawer. A sleek black vibrator. Your eyebrows shoot up.

Eddie smirks, climbing over you. “Not competition, baby. Just gonna make you feel even better.” He kisses you deep, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, while he works his jeans open. His cock is thick, flushed, and beyond what you had imagined. He strokes himself once, twice, watching your face.

“You sure?” he asks, suddenly serious for half a second.

You nod, pulling him down. “Yes. Please.”

He lines himself up, then presses the vibrator against your clit on the lowest setting, the buzz making you jolt.

He pushes in slow, inch by inch, until he’s buried to the hilt, stretching you open in the best way.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, forehead pressed to yours. “So fucking wet for me.”

He starts moving. Deep, rolling thrusts that make your toes curl. The vibrator stays pressed to your center the whole time, buzzing steadily while he fucks you.

Every stroke grinds it harder against you. You’re moaning loud enough that you’re glad Violet’s passed out cold down the hall.

Eddie’s experienced; there’s no other way to say it. He knows exactly how to angle his hips, when to speed up, and when to grind deep. He watches your face the entire time, drinking in every reaction.

“Nobodies fucked you like this, huh?” he rasps, voice wrecked as he snaps his hips harder. “Don’t eat you like this? Don’t make this pretty pussy cream all over their cock?”

You shake your head, nails digging into his back. “N-no, Eddie, fuck—”

He clicks the vibrator up a setting, and you nearly scream. The combination is devastating; his thick cock dragging against your walls, the relentless buzz on your clit, the way he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you whole.

He leans down, mouth against your ear. “Gonna make you come again. Want to feel you squeezing me when you do.”

You do, hard. The orgasm crashes over you so intensely that your vision whites out for a second. Eddie fucks you through it, cursing under his breath, pace turning punishing.

He pulls the vibrator away only when you’re whimpering, then flips you over onto your stomach like you weigh nothing. He pulls your hips up and sinks back into you in one smooth thrust, hand reaching around to circle your oversensitive clit with his fingers.

“Again,” he growls. “One more, sweetheart. Give it to me.”

You’re a mess. Face buried in his pillow, ass up, drooling and moaning while he rails you from behind. The wet slap of skin, his low groans, the way he keeps telling you how good you feel, how perfect you are, it all sends you spiraling again.

When you come the third time, clenching around him like a vice, Eddie finally lets go. He buries himself deep and comes with a broken groan of your name, hips stuttering, body shuddering against yours.

For a long minute, the only sounds are both of you trying to catch your breath.

Eddie pulls out carefully, then collapses beside you and pulls you into his chest. His hand strokes down your back, lazy and soothing.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to your damp forehead. “You’re gonna kill me this summer.”

You laugh weakly, still floating. “Good thing you’re experienced.”

He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Damn right.”

You wake slowly to warmth and the faint smell of cigarettes. For a second, you’re disoriented. Heavy blankets. Morning light spilling gold through half-open blinds. A tattooed arm wrapped loosely around your waist.

Then everything from last night comes rushing back at once.

Oh. Oh, fuck.

Before you can spiral too hard, lips press softly against your shoulder, then your neck.

“Mornin’, sweetheart.” Eddie’s voice is rough with sleep.

You turn your head slightly to find him propped up on one elbow beside you, curls an absolute disaster, dark tattoos disappearing beneath the sheets pooled low on his hips. It’s deeply unfair that he still looks this good at six in the morning.

“You have work,” you mumble sleepily.

“I know.” He kisses you once more, quick and lazy this time. “Tryin’ very hard to be responsible about it.”

“Mm. Don’t.”

Eddie laughs softly under his breath like he can’t help it. “Dangerous thing to say to a man already running late.”

You grin against the pillow while he leans down to kiss you properly this time. Slow enough to make your stomach flip all over again. When he pulls back, he brushes his thumb along your cheek once before sighing dramatically.

“Unfortunately,” he says, “car engines wait for no man.”

“Tragic.”

“I know. I’m devastated too.”

You watch him drag himself out of bed, immediately mourning the loss of warmth while he pulls on jeans and a black work shirt.

He catches you staring when he turns around. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“You were checking me out.”

“I absolutely was not.”