That Bitch

“Working hours” with this black ops group are loosely defined at best, and entirely nonexistent at worst. And don’t even get started on pay, because you think at this point that you’re only getting comped whatever the pay is for your cost of living, and that’s only really when you’re on the clock. They’ll pay for the hotel room and sometimes the food, but besides that, you’re on your own.

But, back to those working hours. You don’t know when they stopped, but maybe it was around the time your roomie decided to crack open a bottle of whisky and pour out half of it for you into one of the plastic solo cups they provide with the coffee pot. God knows you’re not working anymore, you’re just sort of sitting idle while he rambles about the room, gesticulating with the bottle. Like he does.

(Plus, you don’t think he’s even being paid for this? Adrian is just here for the fun and because he’s available, and the rest of the team just let him tag along because he’s useful. The thought makes you smirk a little bit.)

You admire his profile as he talks, one finger pressed to your smiling lips as your eyes trail him back and forth, thinking he might eventually hypnotize you. He’s so… expressive. And he has dimples and curly hair, which you’ve always been a sucker for. He hasn’t even taken off his suit; blue on silver on black, with a red visor on the mask discarded on the table. You had watched him remove it, and carefully tried to hide the fact that you were staring as he pulled his wire-rimmed glasses out of a hidden pocket.

You’re very pointedly staring now, sizing him up like your next fucking meal (alcohol does that to you), and Adrian keeps on blathering in one long spiel, pacing in circles like hasn’t even noticed your hungry gaze (alcohol does that to him).

“Is that prescription?” you ask, cutting him off in the middle of his sentence, which you’d barely been paying attention to. Something something Twilight, something something cultural reset.

Adrian stops pacing, looking at you with a deer-in-headlights expression. “Huh?”

You nod at the mask laying on the table by the door. “The visor. Is it prescription?” 

He swivels to look at the mask, and then back to you with an almost bashful laugh. “Uh… yeah?”

“That’s sick.” 

“Really?” Dimples. You take another sip of your whisky to calm yourself, and it burns at the back of your throat. Objectively, you should not be feeling this way about your pseudo-coworker, who also happens to be somewhat of a lunatic. But, y’know, he’s… sweet. To you. Which is the odd thing, but you’ve gone beyond worrying about the details at this point. You’re hunting alien butterfly creatures that live in people’s brains, you can get past a couple character flaws.

“I mean, yeah.” You lick your lips, which have taken on the flavor of the peach liqueur in the whisky. “I wear prescription lenses, too, but they’re a bitch to keep clean on the job. If I could afford prescription hardware, I would. Good on you.”

“Yeah, I mean… yeah, it is fucking cool, thank you!” He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners and making you clench your jaw with how badly you want to reach out and kiss him long and hard at that exact moment. “I was starting to think no one else would notice how genius it is. Y’know, I don’t even think Peacemaker’s noticed, which is totally not very best friend-like of him, but it’s fine, I’m sure he’ll come around eventually, the guy constantly has a lot of shit on his plate. Like I remember one time, me and him got stuck in a Winnebago that was rolling downhill toward a cliff like something out of Looney Tunes because some idiot crack dealer locked us in there with his load, and-”

He’s pacing again, and the amber colored liquid in the square bottle he grips by the neck sloshes against the glass as he continues waving it around emphatically. And you’ve zoned out again, because now you’re thinking about his hands, and how nice they’d feel on your body. You’ve seen him beat the shit out of people, you know he’s packing some major force in those fists, but you haven’t felt them on your own skin, or had the experience of having them wrapped around your throat for yourself. 

“-then, y’know, Eagly’s a fucking badass, I don’t know if you’ve seen him in action, but the little dude can take a guy out in like one peck. Like do not get caught on the wrong end of those talons is all I’m saying. Anyways, he swooped in and yanked the fucking wheel, so the Winnebago flipped. I mean, can you imagine! A bald eagle rolling a camper. That shit’s gotta be, like, legendary-”

And his quads as he walks, Jesus Christ. You’ve never been super partial to burly, buff guys (sorry Chris), but there’s something to be said for muscle in the right places. Adrian’s legs are nice, you can tell just by the way the fabric of his pants stretches around them when he turns, and fuck his ass is so tight. You nearly salivate just staring at it, thinking about how much you’d love to dig your heels into it, or squeeze it to urge him on as he fucks you. 

Your eyes snap down to your solo cup of whisky, and you frown. When did you drink half of it?

“-but like I’m sure you know Eagly pretty well because he loves you, I can tell. He kind of scooches closer every time you sit near him, it’s really cute actually, I mean, I would scooch closer whenever you sat near me too except I feel like you’d punch me in the dick, good thing my suit’s got a reinforced crotch-”

“Wait, what?” You blink up at him, your brain sort of fizzling out and then rebooting as you stare at him. What did he say? 

Adrian doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah, the guy who made it was like, ‘That makes no sense, you’re gonna have the worst time trying to take a piss in this,’ and I said, ‘No, dude, have you ever been karate kicked in the nuts before? Shit hurts.’ I still had to pay extra-”

“No, no, what was that shit about scooching closer? To me?” You squint at him. “Babe, are you trying to tell me something?”

He blushes. You know he’s joked about not feeling emotions like other people do, but you wonder how true that really is, because he goes beet fucking red like he’s having trouble breathing as he stares down at his shoes. “I, uh- well, I mean, yeah, I’d scooch closer to you. Theoretically. If- if you wanted me to. And if you weren’t going to punch me in the dick.”

“Why would I punch you in the dick?”

“I don’t know, it’s like… it’s an understandable reaction to someone getting in someone else’s personal space!”

“No, it really isn’t…”

“Well, how was I supposed to know you wouldn’t punch me in the dick?”

You throw up your hand in an exasperated gesture. “When have you ever seen me punch someone in the dick?”

He screws up his face. “UM, I don’t know, you punched Peacemaker in the dick!”

“What? When?”

“When he tried lifting you onto the truck that one time!” 

“That was a misunderstanding, I kneed him because he didn’t give me a heads up!”

“But you did it!”

“Well, the last thing I would want to do to your dick is punch it, all right?”

You both stop and stare at each other for a long moment. You think you might have stopped breathing, too. Yeah, you are definitely tipsy at this point, but you raise a slightly shaking hand to take a casual sip of your drink, as if you aren’t staring at him with bulging eyes like you’re possessed.

He opens his mouth and closes it a few times before he comes out with a response. “Okay.”

You blink. “Okay?”

He shrugs. “Yeah, okay. I mean, what other stuff would you do to my dick?”

“Uh… stuff.” You jerkily stand, nearly sloshing your drink as you try to get your bearings. You set the cup down on the bedside table and turn to look at him with the most awkward, pin-straight posture you could possibly muster, like a high schooler trying to pretend they aren’t drunk in front of their parents. “I’m going to take a shower now. Yeah. I am. I’m going to do that.”

“Oh. Okay.” Adrian looks down at the bottle in his hand, and then shuffles a bit to the side so that you can pass him.

“I mean, unless you wanted to shower first?” You pause at the end of your respective bed, and turn to see him turning down the covers on his own by the window. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting in bed,” he says flatly, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He reaches up and undoes a latch on his armor that frees the chestplate, and lifts it over his head in one swift move, leaving him in his tight fitting black undershirt.

You stare at him, scatterbrained until you manage to scowl at him, and the two knives he wears crossed against his lower back. “You’re going to sleep with all your weapons?”

“Yeah.”

“With all the dirt and sweat and fucking blood from fighting?”

“Yeah.” 

“You can’t just… you can’t just get in bed with your outside clothes on, dude!” you splutter, leaning your thigh against the end of the mattress before you, and slow your speech carefully as you declare, “It’s… unsanitary.”

“Oh, and who are you, the sleep police?” Adrian turns to sneer at you. “I thought you were going to take a shower.”

“Well I was, but that was before I knew you weren’t planning on it!” You throw your hand out at him. “Why?”

“Because! If I go to sleep with wet hair it dries all weird, okay? Get off my dick!”

“I’m sure you’ll look just as pretty regardless, Adrian,” you tut condescendingly at him, rolling your eyes as you turn on your heels toward the bathroom. “Do what you want, or fucking join me if you change your mind, I don’t care.”

You don’t register the full weight of your words until you turn on the tap. But, by that time, you also don’t get to see the way Adrian stares at the door to the bathroom like you’ve just presented him with the key to the city.

You very rarely opt for lukewarm showers, but you certainly do now. With the way your blood is humming through your veins like electricity, and you feel hot just from the sight of Adrian’s muscles in that tight fucking shirt, you feel a cold shower is in order. Well, colder, anyways. 

The water pressure is complete bullshit, of course. It pathetically trickles out, and it takes longer than usual for your body to get completely soaked. In that time, you lean against the tile and hold your head in your hands as the water drips down your face. How the fuck are you supposed to sleep in the same room as this guy? Between the way you’re just aching to jump his bones, and his inability to stop talking, you don’t think it’s a possibility tonight.

You wonder what he would sound like when you ride him. You wonder if he would finally shut up, or if he would switch to talking to you like a lover instead of a drinking buddy. You wonder if he would beg, or if he’s more dominant than that. 

You’re imagining his head between your thighs. You’re imagining what he’d look like with your hands tangled in his hair. You’re imagining the feeling of his mouth on your skin, the calloused planes of his palms on your breasts and beneath your thighs. You’re… you’re shaking.

The white shower curtain rips open, and Adrian steps in beside you, naked as the day he was born. “Hey, can you pass the soap?”

“What the fuck?” You turn your head to look at him with a bewildered expression, simply refusing to tear your eyes away from his face because you do not want to cross that line and have the image of his dick imprinted in your brain while you try to get to sleep tonight. “Adrian, what are you doing?”

“Well, you said to join you if I changed my mind.” He shrugs, his smile the absolute picture of innocence, but his eyes still rake slowly down your body before finding your face again. 

You blink, searching for a proper response to that. His eyes are green. Jesus Christ, that’s three for three: dimples, curly hair, and green eyes. He’s trying to kill you. 

“I was being sar-” you cut yourself off with a sigh, “yeah, you know what, I did say that. Shit. Fucking… okay. Whatever. Here.” You fumble with the tiny complimentary body wash tube and thrust it toward him. “Go apeshit.”

“You have a really great ass by the way.”

“Adrian.”  

“What? You do. I’m just being honest. I’m not even saying that because this is the first time I’ve seen you naked, I always thought your ass was nice, there just wasn’t a good time to say it.”

Your face is burning. You turn your back on him and try your hardest not to clap your hands over your eyes or do something equally embarrassing. You don’t think Adrian is even fazed by any of this; he wasn’t wearing his glasses, either, and you don’t know how strong his prescription is. You imagine pretty strong, if he needs it in his visor. Maybe there’s a good chance he can’t see the exact details of your tits. Maybe-

He touches your shoulder, and you feel lather running down your back as he starts massaging circles into your skin.

“Are you washing me?” you wheeze, your voice coming out an octave higher, and you really do cover your face again this time. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, and you can’t focus on anything other than the touch of his hand on your shoulder blade.

“Uh, yeah? I wash your back, you wash mine, right?” He sounds cheery and completely content with everything that’s happening and, despite the sheer oddness of all of it, you don’t really want him to stop. You guess that’s why you haven’t told him to get the hell out, yet.

Maybe you’re just as much of a lunatic as him. “‘Scratch,’ Adrian. It’s fucking ‘scratch.’” 

He pauses. “What?”

“It’s ‘I scratch your back, you scratch mine.’”

“That makes no fucking sense.” He shakes his head in your periphery, his hand resuming its circular motion against your back, moving across to your other shoulder. You feel the soft, wet glide like a molten lava trail.

“Of course it makes sense! Why would it be ‘wash?’”

“Why wouldn’t it be ‘wash?’”

“Because it’s about doing your friends favors,” you argue in a wobbly, strained voice as you shiver while his fingers slide down your spine. It raises goosebumps on your skin, despite the heat in your veins and the cool of the water. “Friends don’t wash each other’s backs, genius.”

“So, we’re not friends?”

His hand pauses again just at the curve of your lower back, where it extends down into your tailbone. You bite your lip, and you can feel his eyes on you, the touch of his gaze almost as real as his hand is. Your thighs clench together involuntarily. You simpering little… weak, desperate thing, you are not going to beg for him to touch you. That’s not it. That’s not how this should go.

But, you could turn around and touch him, too. You could probably kiss him, if you were feeling really adventurous. He just basically implied that he wouldn’t be opposed to fucking you, right? That was where the conversation had been going earlier, if you hadn’t been such a pussy. Neither of you is nearly as subtle as you think you are.

You manage to chew your lip enough to tear a gash in it, and salty, coppery blood hits your tongue. You’re losing it, standing on the precipice of something way bigger than the two of you. You’re just an inch away from becoming more than just friends with Adrian, if you don’t reel it in quickly. Your hand comes up to slam against the wall when his fingers, which seem to be discontented to remain idle, start tracing little shapes on your lower back. A star. A diamond. A heart.

“N… No, I- I mean, we are. But I don’t think we’re going to be, if you keep it up.”

He grunts carelessly. “I’m having a hard time not keeping it up, really.”

“What do you mean?” You turn around, and his hand glides across your lower back and to your hip, because he refuses to stop touching you now (not that you want him to stop, either, if you’re being honest with yourself). Your eyes flick down, and you know exactly what he means, because he’s hard as a rock. 

And also thick, and long, and veiny, but hey. What did you expect?

Your eyes linger on his erection for a long time, and drag your gaze slowly from the burst of dark hair at the base of his cock, up the line of his torso and to his chest. His pale skin is riddled with little scars here and there, from small injuries that weren’t serious enough to slow him down. He has a faint spray of freckles on his shoulders, suggesting that he spends at least some time in the sun. It makes you inordinately flustered to think of him doing some sort of outdoor activities to get that toned body of his. 

You clear your throat as you find his gaze again. “Next dumb question,” you say, and he gives you a wide-eyed, vaguely awestruck look that makes you way more confident than it ought to. “Are you gonna fuck me, Adrian?”

His eyelashes flutter. His cheeks are painted with that sweet pink blush again, like he’s been entirely oblivious to the fact that he’s had you melting for him since he cracked open the bottle of Jim Beam. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“I think it’s a fucking fantastic idea, do you?”  

“Yeah, I do.” And he grabs you by the face to kiss you, and crowds you back against the wall. You give a surprised yelp into his open mouth, your arms coming up to wrap around his neck as your back hits the cold tile. He grunts and brushes his soap covered fingers across your cheeks. “Did you bite your lip?”

“Yeah.”

“...Was that because of me?”

You whimper weakly as he slowly, and very purposefully, traces the length of your bottom lip with his tongue like he’s savoring the taste of your blood. “Yeah.”

“That’s so fucking hot.”

He yanks you up off of your feet, making you squeak and hold in a nervous laugh. Your leg bumps the faucet handle, and the water turns ice cold just as Adrian scrambles to hook your legs around his waist. 

“Shit.” Adrian hisses and smacks the wall beside your hip once or twice before he finds the faucet, because he doesn’t stop kissing you. He’s sloppy and rushed and overexcited, but at least he gets the water running warm against as he presses you up against the wall. “I’ve never done this here, have you?”

“Shower sex? No.” You bite his lip as he hitches you up by the back of your thighs, and he groans as his hips jerk up toward yours. “But I think you’re doing a good job.”

“Wait, fuck. Do we need, like, a condom…?” He blinks at you with a glassy look in his eyes. 

“IUD. I have- it’s all good, you’re fine.” You knock your head back against the wall with a whimper high in your throat as he brushes his cock against your entrance. You can feel the world spinning as you tangle your fingers in his wet hair, giving it a small but sharp tug. “Now, if you don’t fuck me I’m gonna-”

You choke when he drives the full length of his cock into you, pushing your hips back against the wall. Your nails scratch down his neck and across his shoulder blades as he splits you open, your legs tightening around his waist while simultaneously trying to spread wider to accommodate him. Adrian spits a curse into your neck, his teeth grazing a vein there as he ruts up into you, filling you so completely that a cry dies in your throat. 

“God, fuck, Adrian,” you sob toward the ceiling, only too aware of him moaning loudly against your skin. He feels better than you had imagined, stretching you out so perfectly that your toes curl as you try your hardest to draw him forward with your legs alone.

“I knew you’d be perfect,” you catch him whispering into the crook of your neck, just barely audible over the trickle of water over your head.

He doesn’t even give you time to adjust before he starts pistoning his hips into yours, jolting you up the wall. Your skin squeaks against the wet tile, and his grunts echo in the curve of your neck. Tears might actually be streaming down your face, but you wouldn’t be able to tell them apart from the warm water coming from the showerhead.

Adrian’s hand comes up to brace against the wall beside your head, and he surprises you. “You really think I’m pretty?” He asks with such a genuine note of hope in his voice that you think he must be serious. 

“I think you’re fucking gorgeous,” you breathe, whining when he nips at your jaw with his teeth. You interrupt your train of thought with a series of hoarse cries, because Adrian picks up the pace with less precision, and more just forceful thrusts that drive all the way to the end of you and make you see stars, regardless.

“You’re the most perfect person in the world and I wish I could paint because the only thing I’d be painting is just you over and over and over-” 

He’s blathering into your shoulder, his mouth brushing your skin as it moves and his hips slamming yours back against the wall hard enough that you’re definitely going to be feeling it in the morning. Every bit of desire you have for him surges up inside you like an inferno catching on, like every stroke he makes is stoking that fire within you.

“-so pretty everyone wants you I can’t believe you would let me touch you or even kiss you but you’re letting me do this to you and it’s all I’ve wanted to do since I first saw you-”

It occurs to you to tell him that you’d let him do anything he wants to you at this point, as long as he just doesn’t stop fucking you- but that’s yet another line you refuse to cross for the sake of self preservation. You’re already drunk, and confessing the true scope of your feelings to him in this state would just be a recipe for disaster. 

Oh god, but he’s like a reckoning. You shake your head to compose yourself and scratch your nails along his neck before you take his face in your hands and draw him up to you. His pupils were already blown out, but you think they nearly eclipse his irises when his hips falter and he sucks in a sharp breath. His dark hair is thoroughly drenched, and water drips down his face in little rivulets that you trace with your fingers just before you draw him to your lips.

You feel his small moan vibrate on your lips, and that’s enough. Your legs spasm, and your orgasm suddenly snaps within you like a rubber band, every muscle in your core tightening down on his cock as you see a burst of white behind your closed eyelids. It snuck up on you just as much as it did him.

“Holy fuck-” Adrian loudly gasps against your lips with a startled jolt of his hips, his full weight crushing you up against the wall. His nose nuzzles yours, so intimate in a way that you hadn’t expected from him, and with a few shuddering huffs of breath you feel him come with a rush of warmth deep inside you.

You’re floating somewhere above awareness when he slouches forward, his forehead resting against yours and his eyes closed as he takes deep, steadying breaths. It takes you a moment to realize that he’s just holding you, with his fingers digging into your thighs like he’s just trying to ground himself in your body.

You raise a shaking hand to smooth his wet hair back from his face. “Earth to Adrian. You still with me, babe?”

He grumbles something entirely non-coherent directly in front of your face, and blinks his eyes groggily open at you. 

“The alcohol’s catching up with you, huh?”

He nods.

“Guess I’m washing your back, anyways. C’mon.” You wiggle out of his grip, and you’re only too thankful that you’re smushed up against the shower wall, or else you may have easily slipped and ate shit on the tile. The alcohol is fucking with your head quite a bit now, too, and your movements are a little jerky and uncoordinated as you try to help him get cleaned up.

He’s uncharacteristically quiet. The rest of the shower takes place in complete silence, actually, with the exception of the little grunt he makes when you urge him to bend down so you can get his hair for him. You catch him looking a little dazed as you turn off the water, and he gives you an unfocused stare when you toss a towel at him. You wonder if you actually succeeded in frying the guy’s brains just by fucking him.

But then, back in the room as you clumsily dig through your bag to pull out a night shirt and a pair of underwear, Adrian shuffles directly to his bed and tosses his towel aside before clambouring into it, bare ass to the wind. He flops down face first, and shoves his feet under the turned down comforter.

“Adrian… what are you doing?” You say for what feels like the millionth time this evening. 

“‘M going to bed,” he drawls into the pillow. His entire body shakes as he hiccups, and then turns his head to the side to look up at you with his big green doe-eyes that make your heart do a somersault in your ribcage. “You should tooootally join me. There’s-” hiccup- “lotsa room. We could go again.”

You blink at him as you semi-stagger, semi-walk toward the bed, stooping to pick up pieces of his uniform strewn across the floor as he had, presumably, just ripped everything off as he made his way to the bathroom. “Mm, no, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Uh, you said it was a great idea,” he argues as you toss his clothes into a pile at the end of the bed.

“That was before the whisky kicked in and we were both staggering… fuckin… drunk-” you accidentally whack your foot against the corner of the bed and bite your lip as you fight not to crumble to the floor. “One of us has to be responsible.”

“I’m-” hiccup- “responstable.”

“Uh-huh.” You stop as your eyes land on the mostly empty Jim Beam bottle on the bedside table. You’re almost positive it had been at least quarter full when you left him to go take a shower. “Adrian, did you drink all that?”

He blinks his eyes open and follows your pointing finger to the bottle. “Oh, yeah. Hhhuuuhh… had to… I lost the cap so we can’t keep it.” When you march forward to snatch it off the table, he grunts dismissively. “Gotta… get rid of it.”

“Guess that’s why you’re worse off than me.” You shake your head and drop the entire bottle into the trash bin. “Aren’t you gonna put something on to sleep in?”

“I don’t have anything.”

You snap your head towards his sprawling, naked form. Your eyes linger on his ass for way too long. “You didn’t bring a single thing to wear?”

“Why… why would I bring a change of clothes to kill bad guys?” 

“I don’t fuckin’ know! Anonymity!” 

He grumbles into the pillow, “I have a mask.”

“Fuck the mask. You can’t sleep in the mask.”

“Sure I can. I fuck in the mask, I can sleep in it. S’a free country.”

You blink, your eyes flicking between Adrian and the mask on the table. “Dude, you fuck in that thing?”

“Hell yeah I do. I could fuck you in the mask. Could do it right now. Go get the mask.” Despite the conviction of his words, he’s slurring them, and his face is still pressed into his pillow as he lies motionless on the bed. 

“I… don’t think that’s gonna happen tonight.” You sigh as you toe forward and grab the end of his comforter, drawing it up over his body. “We’re both way too drunk. We probably… probably shouldn’t have…”

Adrian flops over to look up at you as you, essentially, tuck him in. There’s a note of hurt in his voice when he mumbles, “You regret it?”

You pause, staring down at his expression of confusion and betrayal. Do you regret it? You can’t deny that you hadn’t been hesitant to have sex with him for a litany of reasons- one being that you work with him, and another being that he’s a loose cannon on the best of days. Not exactly relationship material, you think. 

Or, you thought, but now he’s gazing up at you with these wide, dumbfounded eyes, and you’re tucking the comforter up beneath his chin, and he turns his face down and kisses your knuckle even though he looks mildly hurt. And yes, you liked the sex very much. You liked it so much that you can’t trust yourself not to do it again if you don’t shuffle off to your own bed immediately.

“No,” you tell him firmly, combing your fingers through his wet hair as you draw back. “I don’t regret it, but I think we both need to sleep this off.”

“Okay,” Adrian says quietly, his expression relaxing, but his arms come out from under the comforter and he reaches for you with grabby-hands. “Sleep with me?”

You catch one of his hands and give it a gentle squeeze. “G’night, Adrian.”

You hear him sigh in disappointment when you shut off the bedside lamp. His hands audibly plop down onto the mattress as he rasps, “Night.”

You wake from a dreamless sleep sometime in the early hours of the morning, and your throat is bone dry. Smacking at the nightstand a couple times, your phone manages to illuminate and tell you that the time is only 1:30. 

You blink sleep away from your eyes and try to see through the dark as you stumble into the combination vanity, closet, and kitchenette. You knew you brought a water bottle or two, it can’t be that hard to find-

“Hey, what’cha doing?”

You hardly even startle at this point. You’re slowly becoming acclimated to the idea that Adrian is just constantly awake and witness to your every move, which isn’t as disconcerting to you as one might think. “I’m looking for the water. Did you see where I put it?”

“Uhhhhh mini-fridge?”

You reach blindly under the counter and yank the little fridge open, once again smacking around until your hand lands on the shape of a water bottle. “You want some?”

“Yeah, you could spit it into my open mouth-”

“Adrian.”

“What? It would be fucking sexy.” Adrian grunts, and the light clicks on from the main room. Then, he wolf-whistles just before you straighten up from where he’d caught you, bent over in front of the fridge. “Y’know, I was right. You have a really great ass.”

You grumble a half-hearted thanks under your breath as you approach his bedside and thrust a water bottle at him. “I see you’ve sobered up a bit.”

He waves a hand at you dismissively. “Pshh, I wasn’t that drunk.”

“You were drooling all over your pillow.”

“Maybe I always do that.”

“Yeah, okay.” There’s a long pause, wherein you perch on the edge of your mattress and chug an obscene amount of water. Adrian watches your throat work until he, too, succumbs and lifts his bottle to his lips. 

An uncomfortably heavy silence settles between you two, only permeated by the quiet sipping of water and the cheap motel AC unit kicking in. It’s entirely unlike him to be silent and still for more than a couple of seconds, but he’s just sitting there looking despondent and running a hand back and forth over the white comforter, periodically lifting his bottle to take another drink. He doesn’t even really look tired, and you wonder if he ever got to sleep in the first place.

You know that the tension in the air is so thick because you have yet to address the giant fucking elephant in the room; and to address it is to have the most awkward and intimate conversation you can possibly imagine with Adrian, of all people. As much as you love his sense of humor, the idea of baring your soul to him is almost enough to have you running into the bathroom again, and locking the damn door this time.

But, in true Adrian fashion (because damn it all to hell if he ever lets something be), he beats you to the punch. “So, are you? Sober now, I mean.”

You chew your lip again, and reopen the gash you’d put there before. “Yeah. I am.”

He nods, pursing his lips as he looks down at his lap. He was right, his hair does dry… well, not weird, but just rather unruly if he goes to bed with it wet. Dark curls stick up at odd angles, a cowlick on the back of his crown standing straight up and begging you to come over and smooth it down. More curls fall across his forehead and nearly touch the top of his glasses. He blinks slowly, and severe shadows from his lashes cross his face in the golden light of the bedside lamp. You snap your gaze away, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end.

“So… was that a lie? About just needing to sober up?”

Your thumbs twitch on your bottle. To tell the truth, or to lie? You feel like your mouth just stays dry, no matter how much water you drink. “Look, Adrian, I-”

“Also, I have, like, no pride and a ridiculously thick skull, or- or whatever Peacemaker calls it. So, you don’t have to beat around the bush or anything for my sake, you probably won’t even hurt me-”

“Adrian, I like you too fucking much, don’t you get it?” 

That fully shuts him up, and he locks his jaw as he fixes you with a startled look. You suck your bottom lip through your teeth, perturbed at the taste of blood still apparent on it, and dig your heels into the carpet. 

“The last thing I want to do is hurt you. You’re… one of my closest friends, all right? But I’m afraid that if we keep going like this, I’m not going to want to be friends anymore. And I think I’ll fall in love with you really quickly, and that might be a really bad idea for both of us. You just…” You shake your head, your voice dipping in volume as you stare bashfully down at your feet, “you have no clue how much I want you all the time, baby.”

“Why would it be a bad idea?” he asks you plainly.

“What?” You pick your eyes up off the floor to squint at him, finding him staring at you challengingly, a flush already on his cheeks. 

“I mean, honestly. Name a single reason why it would be a bad idea. Bet’cha can’t.” Adrian throws his empty water bottle across the room, and it makes a gentle tap against the side of the television before skittering to the floor. “I think we’d fuck like rabbits and then I’d wake up every morning and make you pancakes, because I’m really fucking good at those, but you’d have to make the eggs because I always burn them. And I think we’d kick ass together as a cool superhero power couple, and I’d carry your gun for you if you got tired, and I could show you where all my hidden knives are. And you could also do anything you wanted to me, like any time, and I’d be totally fine with it and probably also turned on by it, as long as you call me baby like you just did.”

“Are you serious?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m super hard right now. Probably should’ve warned you, I have a thing about that-”

“No, smartass, I mean are you serious about the other stuff?” You tilt your head at him. “I never really took you for the domestic sort.”

“Tsch- yeah! I’m, like, super domestic. I’m like one of those domestic...ated... cats?” He trails off as you step forward and crawl onto his bed, up his legs to straddle his lap.

“Cats?” you repeat with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m… I…” Adrian’s eyes flick across your face, down to your shirt and bare thighs on either side of his, your knees pressing the comforter taut across his lap and (very prominent) erection. “I don’t know, I have trouble thinking when you’re on top of me-”

Nodding, you reach forward and take his glasses by the wire earpieces, and pull them from his face. He goes stock still, his lips parted in awe as you slide them onto your own face, and give him a sweet smile. “I like your glasses. They look good on you.”

“They look good on you.” His voice cracks. “Can you see in them?”

You blink at him, and then turn your head to look across the room. “A lot better than I thought I would. I think our prescriptions are similar.”

“That means you can also wear my mask.” 

You look back at him, and find that he has his million-mile stare on, like he’s completely lost in thought. You smirk. “Do you want me to wear the mask?”

He blinks, and it’s like you’ve flipped a switch and turned his focus back on. “Uh… no. I mean, yes. Maybe later. I want to look at you.” His eyelashes flutter so fast you think he might take flight for a second. “You’re so fucking beautiful I could stare at you all day.”

“You can touch me, too. Don’t be shy.”

He practically vibrates with anticipation as his palms glide up your thighs, hot and big and just a bit rough. His eyes are everywhere at once; your lips, your eyes, your chest, your thighs, where your hips disappear under your oversized shirt. His fingers catch the hem, and he curls it between them.

“You should totally get naked, too. It’s super unfair that I’m the only one naked right now,” he says breathlessly, nodding the whole time like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you.

“So, do it.” You shrug, trailing a finger up his chest. “Take it off, baby.”

Adrian fists the hem of your shirt and rips it in half up the middle with a loud tear. You gasp, shivering as the garment falls from your shoulders and leaves you in just your panties. “Adrian!”

His eyes are trained on your tits. “What? It’s not like you need it tonight, anyways, and tomorrow we’ll be home…”

“What if that was my only shirt?” you retort.

He looks up at you. “Was it?”

“Well, no-”

“Then there’s your answer. Now, can I go down on you? Because I’ve wanted to for a really long time and I think it’s super hot that you’re wearing my glasses so it’s like I’m watching myself eat your pussy.”

He has such a hopeful expression on his face that you have to hold in a manic string of laughter as you nod at him. “Yeah, sure. Are you going to tear up my underwear, too?”

“No, I wanna keep those.”

“That makes perfect sense.” You shake your head before you kiss him deeply, and his tongue dips into your mouth as he rolls over with you, briefly getting tangled in the sheets before he roughly kicks them off. 

You run your fingers through his hair, snickering as he climbs between your legs and his hands deftly tug your panties down. “Can you keep a secret?”

“Depends on how incriminating it is.”

“I’ve never come from someone eating me out before,” you admit quietly, a blush furiously heating your cheeks until you fear that if you touch your face you might burn yourself. 

Adrian fixes you with a deadpan stare, and a slew of emotions cross his face before he lands on something relatively serene and says, “Okay.”

“Okay?” 

He nods and grins, like this is the most casual conversation in the world, and his green eyes bore into yours. “Yeah. You should probably, uh… hold on, though.”

You frown in confusion. “To what?”

He rocks back on his knees, picking up your arms by the wrists, and he very simply places your hands on his head, with a little smile that conveys, ‘it’s no big deal,’ but the tenderness with which he does it sends another message, altogether. Your fingers weave between soft, unruly curls, your fingernails digging in just a bit when he lowers himself down between your thighs, and you come to the conclusion that this is just how he is. Tenderness, closeness, hidden behind casual sighs and dismissive shrugs.

You’re learning. Slowly. 

His breath finds you before his lips do, where you’re wet and swollen and slippery like you haven’t been touched in your fucking life. But he has once already, and still his mouth feels like a searing hot brand between your legs. In fact, you nearly jump out of your skin at the first brush of his tongue through your folds, your hands tightening on his hair and tugging as you buck your hips up against him. 

Adrian grasps your hips and slams them down against the mattress. Sometimes you forget how fucking strong he is. His slight frame really doesn’t give justice to the force behind those lean muscles, because he holds you in an iron grip that you can hardly wiggle out of. It makes you feel small, in a way, that he holds you hostage to his tongue and won’t let you move away from or towards him. 

A long, miserable whine rips out of your lips before you can stop it, and you could blush at how pathetic it sounds, except that Adrian mimics it with a groan against your cunt. Your head is flung back against the pillows, but when you just barely tilt up to glance down at him, you find his green eyes trained directly on you. They start off wide as moons, and then narrow like he’s challenging you to look away as he drags the flat expanse of his tongue slowly over your clit, curling the tip just as it skims the mark.

“Oh, fuck you, Adrian, you’re so fucking good,” you grit out through clenched teeth. Your nails dig into his scalp and he shudders, briefly nuzzling his head up into your touch before he dips down to give you his tongue again. Your breath hitches, and your eyes flutter shut when he sucks on your clit long and hard. “So… s-so good… good boy…”

The moan that Adrian makes is overtly pornographic, and his hips snap once against the mattress so hard that the bed shakes beneath you. He breaks away from you to rest his forehead against your thigh, squeezing your hips tightly in his hold as his hot breath billows across your sweat-damp skin.

You loosen your fingers in his hair to stroke it softly, subconsciously struggling to flatten the cowlick at the back that you’d noticed earlier. Adrian’s eyes are squeezed shut, his shoulders heaving while he tries to steady his breath through his nose. “Did you just come?”

The tips of Adrian’s ears glow pink. He gives you a little nod and then a feeble, “Couldn’t help it.”

So, he can’t just take his praise in stride, he has to react to it with fervor. “That’s really sexy of you,” you blurt out, your voice ragged and just this side of adoring. 

He returns with a quiet mmm, rumbling across your skin as he drags his open mouth along the sensitive flesh of your thigh, his eyes drowsily shut. It takes him another moment to catch his breath, but once he does, he’s right back at it again. Dipping his head down and absolutely going for it with no signs of letting up, and you have to suck in a deep stream of air and scramble for a hold on him somehow.

“Oh- oh my fuckin-g god-” your voice comes out without thinking, wrung thin and anguished, as your foot plants itself in his shoulder. Adrian simply grunts, paying no mind to the fact that you’re effectively kicking the living shit out of him as he sucks so hard on your clit that you threaten to break his vise-hold on your hips.

He was right that you needed something to hold onto, because you feel like you might leave the ground. He works at you relentlessly, devouring you with his lips and tongue and teeth like he can’t get enough of you, his fingertips pressing so hard into your hips that his nails are turning stark white. 

“Fuck, you’re so squirmy,” Adrian groans when he pulls away from you for half a second, and struggles to hold you down when you try to chase his mouth. “Should I tie you down?”

“Do you have anything to tie me down with?” you mutter breathlessly toward the ceiling.

A beat. “Nope. Stay still.”

You fight not to jolt as the next touch of his mouth on you. He dips his tongue into your channel, seemingly trying to draw your arousal out of you that way. You start whining when he finally nuzzles his way back up, giving you soft, teasing licks to your clit that edge you closer and closer to the release of the swell of heat you feel building in your core. Your volume turns up a notch when his tongue starts drawing little circles around the swollen flesh. 

And when his lips come down to latch onto it and gently suck, you know you’re just shy of howling. His soft groans vibrate onto your skin as you scratch at his head and pull on his hair, and you eventually find yourself babbling, “Adrian, please, I’m gonna come, please pleasepleaseplease-”

He sucks harder, moaning like it turns him on just to hear you say it. You heave a few rapid breaths, and then come against his face with a cry that crackles and breaks in your throat as your head arches back, baring your neck forward. Your heels digging into his back, hands scratching, hips flailing like you can somehow escape the barrage of hypersensitivity he’s putting you through.

You really fucking hope no one is in the room next to yours.

His fingertips stick to your skin once he releases his grip on you. He’s practically glowing, grinning from ear to ear at you from between your legs, and it’s a better image than you had imagined. 

You drop your head back with a breathless chuckle. “Okay, Mr. ‘I Have No Pride.’”

“I made you come,” he chirps happily.

“Yeah, you did. It was really good, too.”

“So, why didn’t anyone else?” Adrian pushes his head toward your touch when you stroke your hand gently through his hair. 

“I dunno. They weren’t applying themselves, I guess.”

“That’s stupid. You’re, like, the hottest person ever. Hotter than Doja Cat,” he grumbles petulantly, and you can tell by the look in his eye that he’s dead serious. “Want me to kill them? I should kill them.”

“No.” You trail your fingers down the curve of his face, going for his chin, but he turns his face and sucks your two fingers into his mouth before you can manage it. You stop dead as the pad of his tongue swirls around the digits, and he blinks up at you innocently, despite the lewd connotations of the act. “N-no, I… hhhhh… you’re distracting me.”

He bats his eyes at you, and he slowly pulls back along your fingers until they pop out of his mouth, covered in saliva. “How am I distracting you?”

“You’re- you… you little shit.” You grab him by the chin and draw him up from between your legs. He clumsily crawls up the length of your torso with his cheeks smushed between your fingers as you hiss, “I’m going to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you, I swear to god.” 

“You know, that sounds slightly menacing when you say it like that,” he slurs, his jaw working against your hold. 

“On your back, Chase.”

He grabs you before you can protest, and rolls back over so that you plop down on top of him, your hand still jammed up against his jaw. A blast of air comes out of your lungs in lieu of laughter, and Adrian snorts, shuffling his hips so that he moves back against the pillows.

“Okay, look, I really really really like you,” he says as you pick yourself up, straddling his lap, “but if you’re too good at this I might accidentally fall in love with you. Just to let you know what you’re getting into here.”

“Oh, is that so?” 

“Yeah, and I think I might actually, um, ask you to move in with me, like, immediately. Like tomorrow. Do you rent or own? Doesn’t matter, I can put your name on the lease. Maybe if you own a house it can be income property-”

You cast your eyes down and find him, remarkably, hard and leaking precum as he continues babbling about living situations. You tilt your head, letting him get his stream of consciousness out there in the open, as your eyes catch on a dark wad of fabric beside his pillow. Your underwear, which he’d gingerly set aside instead of tossing across the room like you thought he would.

“Hm, Adrian?”

He blinks up at you, his eyes wide and dilated. “Yeah?”

You pick up the wadded up underwear. “You wanted to keep these, right?”

He licks his lips. “Um. Yes.”

“Hold them for me, then.” You grab his jaw and stuff them in his mouth, his eyes nearly popping out of his skull as he makes a noise of protest, but then actually moans when, presumably, he tastes you on them. “You’re so fucking cute, I haven’t even tied you up. You just want my taste in your mouth, huh?” He nods. “Yeah. Pretty boy.”

He predictably moans again, his hands grasping at every part of you they can reach; your arms, your breasts, the expanse of his palms gliding down the curve of your waist and settling on your thighs. You grab one, lifting it and settling his palm against your throat.

“Hold this for me, too?” You ask him sweetly, giving his bewildered expression a devilish smirk in return. You rock forward, sliding your dripping pussy along his erection, and his hand tightens on your throat just a bit. “That’s it.”

You pick your hips up, reaching between your legs to position him where you want him, and when you sink down onto his cock, the underwear in his mouth does nothing to muffle the obscene groan that he makes. His hand flexes on your throat, and his eyes close and open a few times as he tries to maintain a certain amount of control. Something tells you that he’s not really used to taking it lying down. 

You’re already decently sore from the way he effectively fucked your brains out in the shower. This is just ensuring that you’re going to be feeling it for the rest of the week, but you can’t help yourself. You take him in all the way, making agonized noises the entire time, and then jolt your hips down a little more so you can feel him bottom out. 

“Fucking hell, baby, you’re something else,” you snarl down at him, and his eyes go wide again as you squeeze him, every bit of your aching strength bearing down onto his cock until he whines loudly through the fabric and his fingers tighten on the sides of your throat. “Oh, god, I could ruin you. You could ruin me. I want you to, it would be so easy for you, I wouldn’t even be able to walk in the morning.”

And you’re moving, picking up your hips and letting them fall back down in slow, deep strokes that have him writhing, his free hand in a death grip on your thigh. You raise your hand to press against the back of his on your throat, your fingers weaving in between his, and he flexes them back a bit to make room. 

Even when he’s gagged, he’s noisy. Keening and grunting at you, his jaw tightening every once in a while and the tendons of his neck jumping out at you when your hips meet his. Dark curls hang down his forehead, damp with sweat, and you can’t help but feel like the shower was useless.

No, not useless. It brought you here.

Adrian bucks his hips up suddenly, meeting you halfway when you take a particularly long time on the downstroke. You gasp, tightening your hand on his, and your nails dig into his chest. 

“Oh, you want me to ruin you, don’t you?” You murmur at him, baiting him to do it again. And he does, just like you hoped he would. You pick up the pace in retaliation, letting the lewd sounds of your skin hitting his fill the room. “Silly boy, I knew you would.”

He whimpers, blinking up at you slowly, his face screwing up and tightening in earnest when you rake your nails up and down his chest. He makes a couple pathetic, weak groans in the back of his throat like he wants to convey something to you, but he’s not reaching up to remove your underwear from his mouth.

(You wonder if he even remembers that he can.)

“You gonna come for me?” you ask as his whimpers increase in volume. His cock is so hard, twitching and dragging thick inside you, and his chest jumps with every desperate, ragged breath he takes. “Yeah, you are. Go on, baby, make a mess.”

Adrian gives you a curt shake of his head, and paws at your thigh for a second before his hand slides forward, and his thumb touches your clit.

“Oh fuck, Adrian-” you lurch forward, pressing your throat hard against his palm, your legs seizing up on either side of his hips. He makes you come again with a single fucking touch, and it burns through your core like fire, almost more satisfying than the first because you’re able to feel him inside you this time, something warm and hard and thick to come on.

Apparently, that was all he needed in order to let go. His back arches a bit as he jerks his hips up into yours, and he fills your pulsing cunt until his shallow breaths rattle in his throat, his eyes squeezed so tight that you see a tear collecting in the corner of one. He lays with his head driven back hard into the pillow, whimpering and whining like he’s been mortally wounded. 

Too sore to move just yet, you pull his hand away from your throat and kiss his palm. Adrian’s eyes flutter open, and he finds you with a glazed-over stare, like he might either see you or see through you. Still letting out soft whimpers with each harsh exhale. 

“Oh. Sweetheart,” you giggle, and reach forward to pull the wad of underwear from his mouth. It comes out with a long string of his spit attached to it, and you give him a cheeky smirk as you break the string with your finger and lick it off, rather than wiping it on your skin. 

“You… you’re…” You swear his eyes nearly roll back in his skull before he closes them, trying to collect himself. He takes a deep, long breath, and then splutters, “Willyoumarrymeactually?”

You give him your biggest, goofiest grin, a little bubble of laughter wedging itself deep in your chest. “Get a little more whisky in me, and we’ll see what bright ideas I have then.”

“Okay.”

You lift yourself off of his softening cock, and the release comes with a dribble of his cum sliding down your thigh. He groans, but with one look at him you know that there’s not going to be any more action for the rest of the night. 

You shift to the left, and his hand smacks down onto your thigh. “Mmmm no, you sleep with me.”

“Yeah, obviously. But you came all over the sheets earlier, genius.”

“Oh.”

He takes a deep breath in and opens his eyes in time to see you taking his glasses off. You blink a few times, your eyes having adjusted to the slight difference in your prescriptions, and refocus on his face to find him gazing up at you adoringly. 

“I’m gonna take a guess and say you don’t sleep in these, too?” You wiggle the glasses at him. 

He licks his lips. “No, not… not usually.”

You set the glasses on the bedside table, and then slowly slide off of him, off the bed and onto shaky legs. You take his hand and tug just a bit. “C’mon, pretty. Into my bed.”

He follows your lead without a fuss, making the two step journey to the other bed and plopping down face-first. 

“D’you wanna get pancakes when we wake up?” he asks around a yawn as you nudge his ass, prodding him to scoot over. 

You nod furiously, even though you know he can’t see you as you switch the light off and climb in beside him, curling up against his warm back. “Pancakes sound fucking delicious.”

“Not as delicious as your pus-”

“Adrian.”

It's just you and Eddie today.

You're propped up against the headboard side by side, a nest of pillows providing you both with a cushion from the uncomfortable framework behind your bed. The muted sound of James Hetfield's voice floating through your stereo speakers over a heavy clash of drums and guitar has your head bobbing in time with the beat. Eddie has long-since gone from shredding on air guitar to intently staring at the way his own ringed fingers bend toward his palm every time the pitch shifts incrementally, mentally contemplating the chord changes by ear. 

Despite the windows thrown open on either side of the room, your small apartment reeks of smoke and weed. The humid Indiana summer air filtering through the curtains is not nearly strong enough to properly air out the cramped space. It's one of those wonderfully warm days — peak summertime. Not overly hot, but enough to have your skin prickling with heat beneath a tank top and cotton shorts. 

Eddie is still lounging in a threadbare pair of checkered pajama pants and a cutoff tee, the top half of his hair tied back in a haphazard bun to lessen the weight of the thick curls sticking to his neck. 

Eddie is prone to complaining when it's hot. Or when it's cold. And also when it's rainy. Or windy. 

Point is, you're not sure why he's yet to complain about the lack of air conditioning in your apartment, but Eddie seems content as ever. It could have something to do with the little glass pipe the two of you have been passing back and forth all afternoon. The bowl on the end had been packed tight, more than enough weed to have both of you thoroughly stoned, well before it's even finished.

The ceiling fan is stirring up the faintest breeze. You've burned yourself thrice on a rogue, billowing flame while trying to light up. The circulating air keeps pushing an errant dark curl down over Eddie's face every time he dips his head to take a hit.. You've combed it back for him four times, already—God forbid he set his hair on fire. Again. You're not sure he's even noticed the way your hand lingers on that smooth strip of skin behind his ear just a little longer each time.

But you can't help it, not with the way everything's gone a little foggy at the edges. Your eyes seem to process your surroundings in near slow-motion, all while the world shines with a barely-perceptible gleam. The last twenty minutes the two of you have spent smoking have done wonders to soften the world around you. Your head is full of air in that familiarly pleasant way that leaves you feeling a bit like you might float away at any second. Like a balloon in the sky. And with the added bonus of Eddie by your side, you're entirely relaxed. Contented.  

Weak beneath the lazy weight of your high pressing in on you, you suddenly flop your weight down sideways across the bed, your head landing over Eddie's thighs. You blink slow up at him, hazy gaze focusing on the underside of Eddie's face while he brings his bony knees up from the mattress to cage you a little closer to his chest. The angle would be outrageous were you looking up at anyone else, you're sure, but Eddie..

He's so pretty.

All rogue-ish boy. Unkempt and wild, but still entirely beautiful.

You can't help the way your hand finds its way up, up, up. Your fingertips dancing across the barely-there five o'clock shadow on the edge of his jaw. You trace the hard line all the way from his chin to his ear, his stubble scratchy and wholly soothing when you lightly scrape your nails against the grain of it.

Eddie, on the other hand, has found himself entirely focused on the way gravity has moved your breasts in your new position below him. The awkward angle has carried them up and out, bra-less and soft and hypnotizing. They shift just a little every time your hand moves across his face. The tank top you've chosen to wear today is thin, indecently so, in his opinion. His brown eyes have been glued to the obvious outline of your nipples beneath the fabric since the moment you'd greeted him at the door, and his ogling has only gotten less subtle as his high settled in. He risks another longing glance down past your collar bones, reddened eyes dragging over the shape of your puffy nipples hidden underneath.

You're thumbing softly at the coarse hairs just under his chin when Eddie gives in to impulse and  purses his lips to blow a cool breath of air over your neck and chest. You can't help but giggle as your skin reacts, goosebumps spreading down your arms, and unbeknownst to you, your nipples tightening into semi-hard peaks beneath your top.

They're not the only things that are suddenly semi-hard. 

Eddie smacks his lips and swallows the drool that he's embarrassed to admit has pooled beneath his tongue. His ring-clad knuckles brush the side of your breast as he reaches to take the forgotten bowl from the blankets. 

He attempts to gather himself as he takes another hit. He holds it for a count of five and then exhales a cloud of smoke whilst urging himself to imagine something utterly repulsive.. His uncle in the shower, roadkill, the way his balls itch uncomfortably after he plays a gig at The Hideout in too-tight jeans — anything that might keep him from popping an unwanted boner while you've got your pretty, unassuming head resting in his lap.

Your fingers are now trailing lightly over the light freckles dotting the bridge of Eddie's nose. His skin is a little pink from yesterday's sun, despite the number of times you'd physically dragged him from Steve's pool to apply sunscreen to his steadily-reddening cheeks. The previous day outside has Eddie's barely-there freckles appearing far more visible than usual, speckled along the round tip of his nose, his cheeks, even the crinkles around his eyes. You think they make him look even more handsome, boyish perhaps, but handsome all the same.

Through the warm fog in your brain, you find yourself smiling up at him. A dopey grin on your face as you poke at the soft apples of his cheeks — Like he's your own personal plaything. Your heart ticks excitedly when the corner of Eddie's lips quirk up at you in response, his pupils blown wide, surrounded by a thin ring of molten chocolate. His teeth flash with his sweet little chuckle of amusement, cheeks dimpling beneath the sparsest area of his stubble.

“You've got freckles,” You comment quietly. “They're cute.” You smack your lips once, mouth dry with dehydration, “I like 'em.. 'nd your stubble, too. Feels nice.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Eddie chuckles, stoned and more than a bit flattered under the weight of your attention. His chest puffs up a little proudly, his words flowing without any real thought behind them, “Made it all myself.. 'S hard work.. But, uh, y'know. Someone's gotta do it.”

He slips his lighter between two of his fingers and holds the bowl off to the side so that he can drag the fingers of his free hand softly, delicately, over your hair where it's fanned out over his lap. He doesn't want to mess it up, especially doesn't want one of his rings to get caught and pull. But it looks so soft, and through the haze, he can't fight the impulse to simply.. touch. So gently. 

His attention seems intently focused on the careful motions of his fingers along your hair, and you take advantage of his distraction by finally allowing your gaze to drop to his mouth. Eddie keeps slowly rolling and biting his lips between his teeth. Canines dig into the flesh before he's scrunching his nose and pursing his lips, only to scrape his teeth over them again in a never-ending loop. You doubt he's even aware he's doing it but it's beginning to make his lips swell, the skin darkening to a brighter shade of pink from the abuse.

All at once, your trance is broken when his tongue pokes out to wet his smoke-dry lips. Your mind flashes suddenly with an idea. 

The absence of both the Hellfire crew and your other friends was truly a rarity. You hardly ever got to be alone with Eddie like this. You'd tried to ask him out once upon a time- No, not just once. Twice. Twice you'd asked him on a date — both of which had somehow ended in group excursions rather than romantic one-on-one time, how it had happened two separate times, you still weren't sure — and at this point you'd given up entirely. Because maybe it just wasn't meant to be. It was okay, really, you'd almost grown content in your longing. 

But, the way Eddie's lips shone lightly after his tongue stroked over them.. It had your brain reeling with possibility. If you were ever going to get his mouth on yours in private, even just for a fleeting moment, it didn't seem possible that an opportunity so seamless would ever present itself again.

It was worth a shot.

“I want another hit.” You tell him, licking at your own lips as brown eyes refocus on your face.

“M'kay, well, you're prob'ly gonna need to sit up for that, sweets,” Eddie points out, entirely unaware of the way your tummy always swoops when the thoughtless pet name falls from his lips. “Unless you were really lookin' t'get a face full'a ash.. In which case, you can definitely keep layin-” A burst of air leaves his nose with a laugh of surprise, repeating his own words to himself with a sweetly boyish giggle, “Sounds like ass. Face full'a ass. Now, that I'd like-”

Normally you'd join in on the joke. Poke a little fun at him for saying such a thing. Freak. You'd say it fondly, with an eye roll to go with it, maybe you'd throw in a half-serious offer involving his face and your backside- But you don't say any of those things. You can't. You're in the middle making the not-so-carefully crafted scene in your head a reality — And, can't he see that? Why is he trying to distract you? 

“Ash. Riiight, uh huh. Well,” You pause, feign innocence before your next words. “Maybe.. Maybe you could shotgun it to me n' that way I can stay right here?” You suggest cautiously, before adding as an afterthought, “If you want, I mean.” 

Any amusement is immediately stripped from Eddie's expression. He spends a few achingly long seconds blinking down at you with heavy eyelids, gaze hooded and distant. His weed-hazy brain takes a moment to actually process your words, but then, just as suddenly as he'd zoned out, he's nodding and bringing the glass pipe back up to his lips, one hand cupped around the end to shield the flame from the path of the ceiling fan.

The lighter clicks and swishes quietly as he lights up. He lowers the bowl after a long second, ringed hand dipping beneath your head and guiding you oh-so gently to arch your neck upward, until he can lean down and press his mouth down softly against yours. 

That first soft brush of his lips has your whole body thrumming. Butterflies begin a rampage in your stomach, so much so that you have to actively remind yourself to part your lips beneath his.

He presses down just a bit more, lips squishing solidly to your own parted ones and sending your heart racing dangerously, but then he's exhaling the smoke into your waiting mouth. You breathe it in as it comes, letting the warmth of it flow from his body and into your own.

He watches you intently as he moves to pull back and sit upright again. Watches the way you seal your mouth shut, lips rolling between your teeth while your lashes flutter against the apples of your cheeks. You allow the smoke to simply sit in your lungs for a long moment before relaxing your chest and exhaling through your nose, releasing the diluted cloud up into the air between you. 

Eddie blinks down at you with heavy lids. There's a long moment of silence between you. It's a palpable thing — not quite awkward or tense, but brimming with an unexpected energy that neither one of you can quite decipher. It's charged. Something like static electricity, or the tether between two magnets of an opposite charge. It nearly tingles in the breadth of space between you.

Eddie feels it. He wonders if you feel it too.

“D'you want another hit?” He asks after a minute, his voice scratchy.

You merely nod your head, not trusting your own voice, and the movement has you refocusing suddenly on the soft press of his calloused fingers where they linger against the nape of your neck. You watch with bated breath as Eddie brings the glass pipe in his hand back to his lips again, letting his gentle grip fall from the top of your spine for just a moment so that he can flick the flame of the lighter over the tiny pocket at the end of the pipe once again. 

Eddie drops the items in his hands to your bedside table carelessly once he's gotten a good lungful of smoke. He leans down in a faster movement this time than he had done before, his hand dipping back beneath your head in a flash to bring your mouths together again.

His lips are dry against your own, but so soft. You're not sure if it's the high or simply Eddie, but the barely-there scratch of stubble over his upper lip is delicious. It feels so good it makes you a little lightheaded. 

Your mouth slips open, inhaling as he exhales. You feel the warmth of the smoke entering your mouth, taste the bitterness of it on your tongue as the two of you fit together like puzzle pieces.

You're preparing to let your craned neck fall back to his lap, to close your lips in an effort to keep the smoke inside of your lungs — but then Eddie is tightening his grip on the back of your head incrementally, and instead of pulling back, he slots your lips together more firmly. Your heart skips in surprise and you can practically hear the blood pumping in your ears. Your brain seems to white out for a moment, unable to focus on anything that isn't Eddie's soft lips moving tentatively against your own. 

A thin cloud of smoke escapes into the air around you as your mouths begin to move together in synchrony. You can't hold back a soft gasp of surprise when Eddie's tongue swipes warmly across the seam of your lips. Your heart pounds, your mouth opening beneath his again without hesitation. 

The kiss that follows is a frenzied rush of lips and teeth and tongue. Hunger blossoms in the pit of your stomach. But it somehow manages to feel so languid, so sensual beneath the relaxed fogginess of your high. 

Your back arches, shoulders lifting from Eddie's thigh to meet him more than halfway. The movement prompts his hands to find your hips and Eddie is tugging you upright in a flash. Suddenly you're wedged between his legs, practically in his lap. Your knees curling around his waist as he leans farther into your space, chasing your warmth until barely any space exists between you. 

Your hands slide idly along his body in a slow trail. Each scrape against your palms feels divine. Every inch of him feels like silk under your fingers. The smooth, worn cotton of his tshirt. The tight ringlets of curls at the nape of his neck, a little damp with sweat. The soft give of warm muscle beneath your eager hands on his chest, his arms, his hips. You attempt to memorize every inch of him, your limbs seemingly moving of their own accord, touch-hungry and weightless all at once. 

He's so warm and- God, you want to be inside of him. You think you might want to bury yourself beneath his skin and make a home there. He smells like heaven, like sweat and weed and masculine body wash. Your fingertips drag leisurely along the length of his inked arms, inching slow back toward his neck like you have all the time in the world to explore every inch of his body. 

Your touch is scorching across his skin, overwhelming and seemingly everywhere at once but simultaneously not enough. It's like all of his wildest dreams have come to life, and Eddie can't fucking believe that this is happening. That you're practically in his lap, your tongue in his mouth, legs draped around his waist, hands tucked beneath the gaping sleeves of his muscle tee to roam freely and grope at the exposed skin of his hips.

Eddie's head cranes just a bit to the side in an attempt to deepen the kiss, licking his way deeper. His own arms curl around your waist, tightening at the curve of your spine to tug your body flush against his. The action has a needy noise pushing its way into his mouth as your tongues explore one another with warm, wet licks. He groans at a particularly slow curl of your tongue, he swears he feels it in his fucking balls. 

He's so turned on he thinks his dick might explode. Eddie changes your position in another quick movement, holding you flush to his chest before he's directing you to lie back against the mattress and slotting himself right there  between your thighs. 

Despite the way your head has gone a little fuzzy from lack of oxygen, you can't find it in yourself to pull away from him. All you can do is slide your hands from Eddie's shoulders and up into his hair. Tingles shoot from your fingertips as they slide into his frizzy curls, yanking some of them free from his bun just to feel the way they tangle around your fingers. A hot flush of arousal pulses in your cunt at the satisfied noise that Eddie lets out when you tug lightly, and that noise alone has you suddenly frantic. 

You can't get enough of him; his sounds, his taste, the press of his warm body between your thighs.  

The hand he isn't using to support himself against the mattress rubs along your waist of its own accord, his fingertips slipping beneath the hem of your shirt to brush featherlight over your skin. You swear sparks erupt in his wake. 

You pull back just enough to murmur his name desperately against his lips, but the syllables are barely out before you're licking into his mouth again with unbridled hunger. Eddie's groan meets your ears in response to your weak plea — what you're begging for, you're not quite sure, but then his hips drop against yours with a slow roll and that- 

Oh, that is exactly what you needed.

You can't help the soft whimper that falls into his mouth. The warm line of his half-hard cock pressing against your cunt through the thin barrier of your pajama bottoms has you dizzy. Eddie grinds hips against yours in another slow roll, clothed erection pressing soft into your cunt and prompting the seam on your shorts to nudge at your clit. You both groan in sync, parted lips barely brushing through the breathless sounds.

You also can't help the way you lift your hips in time with each grind of his length against you. The warm weight of his balls squishes against the fabric of your shorts every time his pelvis drags over your own. The thin cotton feels far too thick of a barrier currently between you and his cock. 

Ringed fingers sneak up a little farther beneath your shirt, his hand tightening over your naked breast, and you keen at the feeling. He alternates between brushing the calloused pad of his thumb over your nipple and covering the area with his palm to give it a soft squeeze. His lips fall slack against your own, too busy focussing on the way his fingers release and then grope again and again, the kind of distracted intrigue that could only be a result of his high.

A soft whine falls from your lips after a minute of putting up with his lazy fondling. You tug at the hair between your fingers again and nip encouragingly at his lips in a silent plea for a kiss. His mouth finally resumes moving against your own, and you gratefully allow him to direct the kiss. You give him full control of the pace, which turns out to be a give and take of desperate licks into your mouth followed by gentle caresses of his spit-slick lips against your own. Lips smack each time you part, tongues sliding together wetly, heaving breaths rush in and out of your noses as you both attempt to pull as much oxygen in as humanly possible in an effort to not break apart.  

Your fingers find the knob of his spine, and you tug on the collar at the back of his shirt in silent question. Eddie answers by pushing back up on his knees to yank the fabric over his head in a quick movement. His tattooed chest heaves with slightly labored breaths and you watch him with rapt attention, your eyes drawn to the tiny patch of hair nestled between his pecs and lightly dusted around his nipples. Then your focus drops to the thicker trail that leads down into the waistband of his pants. The pale skin beneath the hair glistens with sweat, and good God you want to taste it-

But you're only granted a few seconds to ogle his torso before Eddie is dipping back down to catch your lips with his, your mouths immediately separating just enough that he can strip you of your own top. 

As soon as your naked chest is exposed to him, Eddie is dragging his lips down your body in a slow trail. He pauses for a moment to kiss a spot just below your ear, his voice raspy when he speaks, “You good? This alright?” He checks quietly. 

You reach up to tangle a hand in his hair again, a breathless sigh leaving your lips as you feel the warmth of his mouth pressing against your neck, “Good, yeah. Very, very alright.” 

Eddie wastes no time, his lips trailing lower. He leaves a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses to your exposed breasts, relishing in the way you react to his mouth, the way your spine arches up from the mattress at the attention. 

“Jesus H. Christ. 's incredible,” Eddie mumbles, his words slurred against your chest as he bites and sucks at the skin on the side of your breast. His head has gone hazy with lust, his fingers slipping beneath your body to grab a desperate fistful of your ass, “Hand to God. I swear, I've never fuckin' seen more perfect-”

You interrupt the filth spewing from his mouth with an entirely unintentional moan, slightly overwhelmed by the influx of sensations. His praise in your ears. The feeling of his fingertips sinking into the plush of your ass. The prominent bulge in his bottoms dragging against you. 

Eddie curses under his breath, taking your nipple into his mouth and biting down softly before immediately soothing his tongue over it in apology.

Your brain is a little fuzzy. Sweetly faded and hazy at the edges, but somehow, each touch and sound between the two of you feels heightened — Magnified and all that more intense. As if your high has somehow managed to mute everything on earth except for Eddie. 

You release his hair in favor of sliding your hands down his back to grope the globes of his ass over his pajama bottoms while his hips continue to rock forward in a dizzying rhythm. A knead to the flesh there has Eddie whining sinfully against your tongue and your pussy fucking throbs in response.

"Baby," Eddie pants into your mouth, his voice nearly cracking with need, "Take 'em off, please- Baby? c'n we-?"

He doesn't finish the question but you nod, nose brushing against his as your hands slip underneath the waistband of his pants. Your fingers are very nearly trembling while you shove the fabric down below the curve of his ass. 

You feel the moment that his cock springs free and you immediately have to crane your neck down to take a peek — The urge to see him is too strong. And God is it a glorious sight. 

Flushed red at the tip and achingly hard— Jesus it's thick, gloriously thick. His pubes are dark and untamed around the base, hiding just how big he truly is. It's the most gorgeous cock you've ever fucking seen and it's bumping softly against the crotch of your shorts, wetting the fabric with smeared pre-cum that Eddie's fucking leaked over the head. He's wet with need, same as you, and the thought makes you feel fucking insane. 

Which means you ogle perhaps longer than you should. 

A needy grumble rises in Eddie's throat that has you snapping out of it suddenly and bringing a hand up into the narrow space between your faces. It takes a moment with the dryness of smoke lingering on your tongue, but you manage to gather enough spit to lick a wet stripe up your palm and fingers, and then you're reaching down to curl your fingers around him. 

Half-naked is practically Eddie's default state when he's stoned or drunk, you've drooled over just the outline of him in his underwear more times than you can count, but you're still somehow surprised by the sheer size of him in your hand. The weight of him. Long and curved just a little to the right — so silky and so soft under the slippery glide of your fist. You work your hand slow over him, rewarded with a beautiful little groan of thanks from the man above you, the sound of it guttural as you begin to jerk him with slick strokes. 

“Ohhh my god, that- that's, j-jesus-” His voice fucking cracks. 

Eddie's hips jump as he fucks into your fist. His eyes roll back, a little delirious just from the sight of your smaller hand wrapped around him. You switch from long strokes in favor of shorter ones where you can focus your attention on his tip, your thumb swiping back and forth over the head of his cock with each flick of your wrist. Eddie doesn't even recognize the sounds leaving his mouth. The combination of his high and the wet glide of your hand is too maddening to care. 

You make your own small noise of amazement that has Eddie coming back to himself suddenly. He yanks your shorts down your thighs with an impatient huff, pulling away from you just long enough to discard the last of both of your clothing before he's caging you back against the mattress once again. And then his lips are making their way to your neck, kissing and sucking lightly between these oh-so pretty little groans against your throat, his hips bucking restlessly into your own all the while. 

You give an eager cant of your hips, feet pressing into the mattress until the tip of Eddie's cock brushes the seam of your cunt. Eddie makes another sweet little noise of surprise that has you draping an arm around his neck, your face pressing into his shoulder as you repeat the movement with intention. 

You want him so bad your pussy fucking aches. 

“Ed, can we, please?” You whisper desperately into his skin. 

The question is barely out before he's nodding against your throat, bracing his knees and lining himself up with your hole. His hips push forward until just the tip of his cock presses into the wet heat of your cunt, but good lord-

He's so big. It feels a bit like he's splitting you right down the middle, but it's so good. He rocks his hips forward slowly, each little push stretching you wider than you thought possible. Every time you think he can't possibly have more to give you, he slips in a little deeper. He reaches so far inside of you that your eyes roll back, a long, drawn-out moan tearing past your lips at the slow stretch, the dull fullness behind your navel that you can nearly feel in your throat. 

“Oh, fuck.” You whine breathlessly, hands scrambling for purchase along his skin. Your nails bite into the sweat-slick muscles of his back before slipping lower still. You find the dimples at the base of his spine, nails raking over the pale white skin of his hips and ass. Your whole body goes lax underneath him as the wiry bush of his pubes finally meets your own. 

The noise Eddie releases into the curve of your shoulder borders on a whimper, his breath hot against your skin as he rocks his hips forward again and again. His weight pushes you deeper into the mattress, his cock grinding desperately against the absolute deepest parts of you. He gasps with each nudge of your cervix against the head of his cock, practically humping you through the haze of his high as he tries to give you time to adjust to his size. 

“Y'good?” Eddie pants into your neck, words slurred together with need. He feels half a second from fucking begging when your legs spread further, your thighs falling back toward the mattress and allowing him even deeper and holy fucking shit. “Ohh, c'n I move?” He’s all but whining now, “Please. God, please can I-” 

“Uh huh, 'm good, 'm good, I-” Your assurances cut off with a wail when he begins to pull back and drive in again with a sharp snap of his hips. Your fingers tighten where his hairy thighs meet his ass, nails biting into taut muscle in an attempt to ground yourself. “Ohmygod.” You whine, eyes glazing over with the heat that pools behind your navel with each thrust.

“Y'feel so good.” Eddie mumbles, slack mouth pressed to the sensitive spot below your ear. 

He pushes up on his elbows, but only enough that you can gape up at him with hooded eyes, brows furrowed with just how fucking good he feels. 

“Fuucck, y're pretty,” Eddie groans between deep thrusts, his words drawing a moan from your lips. He brings one hand to your cheek, thumb pushing into the plush cushion of your swollen lips before he's covering them with his own in a messy kiss, “Y're so hot. So. fucking. perfect.” 

His words are spoken quietly against your lips between thrusts, his nose squishing your own in close proximity, and you draw him back down to your mouth in a hungry kiss, teeth clashing. 

The pace Eddie has set is intoxicating, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming his hips forward to fill you up again with deep thrusts. Your moans are loud, wanton and uncontrollable under the haze of your high, only somewhat muffled by Eddie's mouth covering yours. 

In a frenzy, you find yourself kissing away the sweat beading on his upper lip. You lave your tongue softly over the light prickle of stubble at his cupid’s bow, but you're only granted a moment to relish in the scratch of it before Eddie is nosing at your cheek and urging you back into a scorching, albeit distracted, kiss. His fingers wrap around your upper thigh to hitch your leg a little higher on his hip, rocking his hips forward again and managing to hit impossibly deeper inside of you. He drives into that spongey spot behind your navel and you writhe-

“Oh-” You gasp into his mouth in surprise, head gone fuzzy as he continues fucking your at the new angle, “Eddie!  I, fuck-” 

He responds with a groan. His lips leave yours to forge a trail of biting kisses over your skin. He wants to kiss you everywhere. He wishes he could kiss every inch of your skin and still keep fucking you. You're weak to do anything but lie there and take it and it makes Eddie feel dizzy with power. Your arms curl around his shoulders again, head thrown back against the bed in ecstasy. 

Eddie's mouth is seemingly everywhere, lips sucking at the underside of your jaw, tongue leaving a wet trail over your collarbones and throat, teeth sinking into the curve of your shoulder. Each new sensation sends another spark of arousal down your spine, sends your brain farther into the clouds. 

It’s almost too much. It has you tightening your thighs around his hips and rolling sideways over the bed to switch positions, his cock slipping free as you find yourself straddling his waist with only a slight wobble from the momentum. Eddie makes a quiet noise of surprise and petulance, but it melts into a grateful, high-keening moan when you sink back down onto him. Your hips press flush to his as you set a new, slower rhythm of your own making. 

“Oh, Jesus,” Eddie whines in amazement, hands tracing over the curve of your waist and breasts as you rock back and forth onto him, “Shit. You look so good like this.” His praise comes out through heaving breaths.

You rest one hand supportively over the sparse hair at the center of his chest, the fingers of your other hand trailing up the skin of his arm until you can tangle your hands together against the mattress. You grind your hips down harder, deeper, and Eddie groans, his hips bucking up unconsciously to meet you halfway. 

Your forearms fall on either side of his head. Your weight pressing down against his chest has Eddie immediately fisting your ass and thighs in a bruising grip to help guide your movements. You lean down to bury your face in his neck as you slide back and forth along his length in a slow rhythm, your legs already aching with exertion even with the help of his strong arms.

The loud slapping of skin meeting skin every time the backs of your thighs meet his own rings loudly in your ears. Your staggered breathing falls against his lightly stubbled jaw, lips leaving distracted kisses in apology for the way your hot breath fans out against his already sweaty neck. 

“God, Eds,” You moan into his skin, sucking a mark against his throat while he uses his tight grip on your hips to fuck you down onto himself, “You feel. So f-fucking good-” 

You let out a yelp as Eddie twists your bodies again with a grunt, and suddenly his body above yours once more, his hand on your shoulder as he sinks back inside of you.

“Need it faster. Harder.” He pants, “That okay?” 

You nod, head rubbing against the mattress, “Yes. Please, yeah-” 

Eddie trails his fingers down the back of your thigh and guides you to wrap your legs around his waist, and then he’s fucking into you in quick, punishing thrusts. Your moans only increase in volume at the change of pace, your whole body seemingly flushed with heat. Your hands scrape desperately over Eddie's back as he pounds into you, nails cutting into pale skin. 

“Shit,” Eddie groans, his forehead dropping down against yours in an unexpectedly tender movement, though it does little to take away from the sound of your bedframe creaking, the wet squelch every time he drives back into you. “God, 're you close?” He asks desperately.

“Uh-huh.” You confirm immediately, brain hazy and muscles tensing with each hard thrust that brings you closer and closer to your peak. 

Eddie's nose rubs soft along your cheekbone as he nods, joining your mouths in a kiss that's more breath and tongue than anything else. You struggle to focus on moving your mouth against his as your orgasm begins to creep into the corners of your vision. Eddie's weight drops down onto one elbow to allow him the stability to reach in between you. His hand settles over your pelvis, his fingers swiping messy over your clit as his quick thrusts grow shakier. 

“C'mon, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against your lips, “C'mon, I really-” He's cut off by the groan that rumbles up his throat when you pulse around him, the sound entirely animalistic. “Goddd. N-need you t' fuckin' cum, baby, please.” 

His voice has gone husky with arousal and exertion, the sound has your eyes rolling back. It only takes a handful more thrusts like that, with the help of his fingertips tracing light circles over your clit. Your whole body tenses as your orgasm crashes over you, legs clamping around his hips. You whine brokenly in his mouth, a sharp gasp immediately following as you scrape your fingers down his shoulders, your whole body shaking as you come undone around him. 

The increased tightness of your muscles spurs on Eddie’s own orgasm within a few thrusts, and then he's following you over the edge. He buries his face in the curve of your neck as he cums with a whine, hips stuttering twice before burying deep. His weight crushes you to the mattress, your back arching at the warmth of his release filling you. Your eyes water with the strength of your orgasm, Eddie's hips unconsciously grinding into your own as he rides out his own, whimpering into your ear with the aftershocks. 

You both remain unmoving for a long minute, sweaty chests heaving as you struggle to catch your breath and come back to yourself. You card gently through Eddie's sweaty hair, his curls having long since broken free from the hair tie that had once held them back from his face. You fingers trail thoughtlessly through the damp tresses while Eddie's hot breath fans out over your neck. His dick twitches inside you when your fingertips scrape softly against his scalp and you struggle to bite back a quiet laugh of amusement. Your muscles tense even with the smothered laugh, and Eddie groans as your cunt pulses around him. 

He huffs when he catches the look on your face, entirely dramatic as he begins to roll away, but he only maintains that feigned annoyance for about half a second before he's cackling madly and dragging you into his chest. He nips sharply at your shoulder as he tugs you into his sweaty chest and buries his face in your hair, fingers beginning to trace soft shapes over the skin of your hip. 

“You feelin' okay?” He murmurs after a moment. 

“Yeah,” You confirm with a sigh, already relaxing into his touch. Your brain is pleasantly dulled from the combination of the lingering high and your orgasm. “Yeah, 'm great.” 

“Oh, same, yeah. Super great. I just, uh-” Eddie pauses and you find yourself focussing on the gentle caress of his fingers along your skin, “I wanted to check, y'know.. Make sure you weren't havin' any.. I dunno, just, regrets-”

You're readjusting in a flash so that you can look at him directly, your head settling onto his bicep as your eyes flick between his, “I don't. Regret it, I mean.” 

It feels much too serious of a conversation to be having considering how deliriously high you currently feel, the previous strenuous activity did little to clear your head, but you mean it with every fiber of your being. You've been hung up on Eddie for what feels like forever now, the thought of him outright regretting the events of the last hour- It has you feeling sick, stomach sinking and twisting and souring all at once.

Eddie's throat bobs as he swallows, “Just, I mean.. Y're real stoned and- Shit. I, fuck. I probably shouldn't've-”

“Eddie,” You cut him off, feeling desperate with the need to reassure him, “You smoked just as much as I did—probably more. I-I wanted this. I wanted it, like, really bad. Unless..” Your heart drops, “Do.. Do you regret-?”

“No!” Eddie disagrees immediately, and vehemently — With urgency to correct you. “No. No, sweetheart, I do not regret it. Could never regret you. I mean, that was- Shit, I've been wanting to do that since-”

Your hand finds the warmth of his chest, fingers scraping at the small tattoo there, “You have?” 

Eddie nods his head against the blankets, sweaty curls sticking up every which way around his head like a messy halo, “Yeah.” 

“Does that mean.. I mean, would you maybe wanna do it again sometime? But, like, when we're not high as all hell?” 

Eddie's dimpled grin has an embarrassingly wild burst of butterflies erupting inside of you, “Yeah. Yeah, I really do.”

You lay like that for a while, pressed together despite the heat. His fingers wander over your palms, tracing the lines there while you watch the way his rings shift. Your naked bodies separated only by a thin layer of sweat. The ceiling fan pushing light waves of blessedly cool air over your skin. 

After a few minutes Eddie suddenly tears himself out of your grip, and he does it so abruptly that your brain is hardly able to comprehend the loss of him. He lets out a quiet yelp of distress and nearly collapses face-first into the blankets in a mad scramble toward your legs. He manhandles you until you're sprawled on your back, pushing your thighs apart before flopping entirely ungracefully onto his belly in the narrow space he's made between them. 

As you push up onto your elbows to peer down at him, Eddie is simply stroking his fingers soft up and down the length of your cum-soaked folds. His eyes are alight with wonder while he watches his own spend begin to leak out. One of his thumbs catches it as it falls, and he pulls his hand back for just a moment to get a better look at the pearlescent mixture of your combined cum. 

“What're you doing?” You giggle after a long moment of simply watching him.

Eddie's head snaps up with such surprise it looks as if he might've forgotten you were even there, if such a thing were possible. 

“Just, uh.. Admiring my handiwork.” He grins like he's all-too pleased with himself, dimples poking into his cheeks. 

“It's our handiwork, actually,” You correct playfully, “Half of that's mine, and- No, wait. Actually, 's all mine now.” You tell him triumphantly.

His eyes narrow in confusion and you redirect your gaze pointedly. His attention follows your own, eyes flicking briefly toward his own hand, where the cum has begun to drip slow down his thumb toward the meat of his palm. 

“What, this?” He questions in amusement. 

“Yes that.” You tell him with a frown, “'s mine.” You have to bite back an honest-to-god cackle at the entirely contrived look of betrayal on his face. “Put it back.” You challenge. 

Eddie's eyes roll in irritation as he repeats your words mockingly, his voice thrown high in an exceptionally poor imitation of your own, but he does dutifully drop his hand down between your thighs again to attempt to push the cum back inside you. 

He looks pleased as punch once he's done. He looks at your cunt with a dopey grin on his face, cheeks still pink with exertion and hair wild. 

“Don't miss me too much, pretty. A'right? I'll be seein' you again real soon.” Eddie murmurs softly, eyes never once leaving your cunt. He punctates his words by pressing a gentle kiss to your mound, just a hair's breadth from your clit. 

And then that dumb, dazed smile takes over his face again. 

You squint down at him, “Was.. Were you talking to me or my-”

“Was talkin' to this pretty pussy.” Eddie says matter of factly, stroking his hand over the coarse hairs between your thighs in the way one might pet an animal. 

“Okay.” You manage, laughter preventing you from saying anything else. 

Eddie tugs a large chunk of loose curls across his face and lays his cheek to your upper thigh. He stays like that for a moment, hidden behind the curtain of his hair, big brown eyes blown about as wide as he can manage through his high.

 “..Do you still wanna fuck me?” 

He pouts. It's ridiculous. It's adorable.

You can't pretend to mull it over for more than a few seconds, your cheeks ache with the need to smile. He makes you so happy you feel borderline deranged. 

Your lips quirk up even as you sigh dramatically, “Regrettably? Yes.”  

He fucking cheers. 

He drums his hands enthusiastically against your thighs and yells so loud in victory that all you can do is laugh and cover your ears until he's finished. 

“Hey sugar.” He calls, turning to give you a dazzling smile.

“Stevie.” You reply sweetly, hopping up onto the vinyl wrapped counter, swinging your body over to land on the other side.

“Didn’t expect you down here tonight.” He says, resting his muscular forearms on the surface of the bar, as equally sticky as the ground beneath your feet.

“Jen refused to cover, after last night.”

Steve sucks in a breath between his teeth with a low whistle.

“Don’t blame her. She was pretty shaken up.”

That’s putting it mildly. She’d come stumbling back up the stairs last night, choking on sobs, and you’d barely managed to get her into a cubicle before she’d blown chunks all over the floor. You didn’t even have time to pull her hair out of her face, so when she’d finally calmed down you’d spent a while rinsing her hair in the cracked porcelain sink, unsure if it was the florescent bathroom lights that had tinted her skin green, or if she was gonna hurl again. It was the latter.

The sights of what went on down here certainly weren’t for everyone.

“You’re not worried right?” Steve grins, reaching over to squeeze your arm affectionately.

“Course not.” You smile.

“I know you’ve got me.”

“Always.” He nods.

You start pulling out glasses, lining them up in preparation.

“I’ve got a friend coming tonight.” Steve grins.

“Watching?”

“Participating.”

Your brows raise in surprise.

“He know what he’s getting himself in for?”

Steve chuckles, his pearly white teeth flashing.

“Oh yeah. Can’t say the same for the other guys.”

“He’s good?” You ask, tipping a bag of ice into the bin below the bar.

“The best.”

That was high praise, coming from Steve. There was a reason your boss kept him on the door, and never had him in the ring. You’d seen Steve take on guys twice his size like it was nothing, breaking jaws and busting lips, then dragging 240lbs of asshole out the door, throwing them into a crumpled heap on the concrete outside.

“Can’t wait to see him.” You smiled.

“Oh sugar, you’re gonna love him.” Steve drawls, spinning on his heels and leaving you to get on with your prep.

An hour later the room was bustling with bodies, the bar crowded with impatient men shouting out for their overpriced drinks. It was always an odd mix, paths that might never otherwise intersect, but they all knew somebody who knew somebody. That’s why they were here. You never got in the door at the back of the building without an invitation.

You’d met all sorts in here. Low life thugs with pure violence running through their veins, hooked on the carnage like good coke.

Big players in the criminal underbelly of Indy, they looked unsuspecting, always quiet, but their terrifying reputations spoke volumes.

Men in fancy suits, with watches likely worth more than your home flashing on their wrists. Execs, detectives, politicians. They had the most to lose by being seen in a place like this, but your boss was discrete, and they always came back. Once was never quite enough to satiate their sick curiosity.

You slide a whisky and water across the bar, into the waiting hands of one such man, his salt and pepper hair parted and slick with gel. He holds out a large bill, and you pluck it from his fingertips with a forced saccharine smile.

“How’d a pretty girl like you end up in a place like this?” He drawls, his thin lips pulling back to reveal cigarette stained teeth. A snort comes from the younger man to his left, and he scowls when his head turns to the side.

“Something funny?”

“Yeah. Your pathetic attempt at picking up a girl young enough to be your granddaughter.” The young man grins cockily.

Your customer tuts, spitting out an embarrassed “keep the change” to you before turning to slink off into one of the dark corners of the room.

“If you’d have cost me that tip I wouldn’t be very happy with you right now.” You tease, resting your elbows on the bar in front of the young stranger.

“But I didn’t. So you are happy with me.” He smiles, looking up at you coyly through this lashes.

He’s cute, you’ll give him that. Mahogany doe eyes, soft nose, plump rosey lips. Those same lips stretch into a broad grin, a dimple forming on his cheek.

“What can I get for you?” you ask, ignoring the frustrated huffs from the men a few bodies down who have been waiting longer.

“I don’t know princess, what would you recommend?” He murmurs, leaning a little closer over the bar so you can catch his low voice over the din of the room.

You pause, eyes dancing across him, trying to figure him out. His wild curls hang down to his broad shoulders, resting on the cracked leather of his jacket. His fingers splayed out on the counter are decorated with thick bands of silver, skulls and crosses and boars. The tips of his fingers are mere millimetres from yours. You suck in a breath, pulling your hands away, and a flicker of disappointment flashes on his face, that is until you turn to reach up to the top shelf. You select the bottle, heavy with deep amber liquid, and you pour a generous measure into a glass, dropping in a single ice cube.

“Do you have expensive taste princess? Or do I look like I do?”

“Worried you can’t afford it?” You ask.

“Not at all.” He takes the glass from your hand, the rough pads of his fingers brushing gently over your skin.

You wait as he brings the glass to his lips, taking a small sip. He hums in satisfaction.

“Shit. That’s good.”

“Yeah?” You breathe.

“Yeah. S’delicious doll.”

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, trying and failing to hide the smile he’s pulled from you.

“Do you wanna set up a tab?” You ask, tracing your fingers down the neck of the cognac bottle.

“Sure. And put a drink on there for Steve when you get a chance.”

“Oh. You’re Steve’s friend?”

“You sound surprised.”

“You don’t look much like a fighter, that’s all.” You comment. And he really doesn’t, with his pretty face and wiry frame it’s hard to imagine him getting in the ring. Even harder to imagine that he’s strong enough for Steve to consider him the best.

“Well looks can be deceiving princess. But really I’m a lover, not a fighter.”

You let out a laugh at his corniness, and he does the same, a deep booming sound that has your stomach flipping over.

“Hey! You gonna serve us or what?” A sweaty man bellows from the end of the bar, waving a fistful of crumbled bills in the air.

“Yeah yeah, give me a minute.” You snap.

Steve’s friend drains the last of his drink before sliding the empty glass back over to you.

“I should let you get on. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah. Good luck.” You smile, a little disappointed when you watch him push back from the bar and disappear into the crowd.

The first fight of the night is a long one, the two men fairly evenly matched. It drags on for round after round, fierce blows landing, spit and scarlet blood splattering across the floor, to a chorus of roars and hollers from the baying crowd. You tune out, wiping down the bar and making the odd drink, until it’s finally called to a stop when one of the competitors slumps to the floor, unable to get back up or even raise his hands to halt the flurry of punches that rains down on him. As he’s dragged from the ring, Steve jumps over the bar, plucking a box of Marlboros from his pocket. He clamps a cigarette between his teeth, holding the pack out to you to take one.

“You’re taking your break early.” You comment.

“Yeah, wanted to catch Eddie’s first fight.”

“Oh, that reminds me. He bought you a drink.” You keep the cigarette pinched between your lips, occasionally exhaling out of the corner of your mouth as your hands busy themselves pouring a triple measure of Jack and topping it with Diet Coke.

“You tryna get me drunk sugar?” Steve grins, plucking the cigarette from your lips to tap the ash that was hanging dangerously over his glass into an ashtray.

“You can’t handle one little drink Stevie?” you smirk, pressing yourself into his side.

“Little drink.” He scoffs.

“It’s practically half and half.”

Steve’s arm winds around your waist, his large hand resting on your hip as you both crane your necks to get a better look.

The previous victor struts around the ring, thumping his fists to his chest and shouting nonsense, like some kind of sweaty hairless gorilla. It’s having its desired effect on the crowd, riling them up, booming male voices screaming indecipherable words.

The ref beckons to someone beyond the ropes. Up on your tiptoes, you spy a mess of curls piled high into a loose bun, Eddie stepping into the ring. He’s ditched his leather jacket, and thankfully for his opponent, his chunky rings. The smooth quartz skin of his arms are exposed in his white vest, tucked into ripped and faded black denim that sits low on his hips. He looks like he’d be more at home on stage with a guitar slung over his chest than in a ring, but he’s clearly confident, shoulders rolled back, chin held high, that same smug grin on his lips.

The crowd jeers, some men laugh, slapping each other on their backs, clearly anticipating an easy win on their bets. Eddie’s opponent must have at least 50lbs on him.

The ref cups his hands around his mouth, shouting out above the noise of the drunken audience.

“Next up to face Rowdy Rory… Eddie ‘The Master’ Munson!”

You snort out a laugh. The ridiculous stage names always tickled you, some of the fighters acting more like they were WWF superstars than low life losers scrapping in an underground bare knuckle club.

Although if Eddie’s hanging around with Steve, he’s obviously not a low life. You watch him with narrowed eyes, trying to figure out what his deal was. He seemed like a nice enough guy, charming, confident. Not like the rest of the fighters and patrons.

“How’d he get into this?” You say, nudging Steve in his side.

You feel Steve shrug, his fingers tapping a steady rhythm on your hip.

“He’s just always been good at it.”

“Good at fighting?”

“Yeah. He was picked on a lot in school. For a while anyway. Once the bullies realised he could more than handle his own they tended to give him a wide berth.”

A frown settles on your face. You try to imagine Eddie younger, maybe a little skinnier, no dusting of stubble along his angular jaw, no bats and demons inked on his arms. He was obviously a little… different. You could only imagine the kind of insults and abuse that would’ve been hurled his way as a kid, and it made you feel sorry for him.

“What’s that serious face for?” Steve murmurs. You shake your head, blinking up at him.

“Nothin’.”

“Don’t worry babe, he’ll be fine.”

“I’m not worried. Makes no difference to me what happens to him.”

“Whatever you say honey.” Steve smirks. He pulls you in front of him, his arms wrapping around your waist and his chin coming to rest on the top of your head. Sighing deeply, you let yourself relax, leaning back into Steve’s chest, your hands resting onto his tanned forearms.

The ref takes a few steps back, signalling for the match to begin.

Eddie doesn’t move, just bounces on the balls of his feet in the same spot, his fists held at chest level, ready and waiting.

Rowdy Rory is clearly a little more eager to get things going, storming across the ring, an arrogant grin stretched across his face.

He draws his right arm back, throwing his fist forwards with a powerful swing.

It connects with nothing but smoky, hazy air.

He staggers forwards a few steps, thrown off by his arm following through more than intended. He turns to face Eddie who’s shifted a few feet to the left, and he sneers, throwing another punch.

Eddie dodges it once again, ducking and side stepping out of Rory’s range. The bigger man is furious at being shown up, his cheeks glowing red, jaw clenched tight and teeth bared in a snarl. He lunges towards Eddie, only to miss him for a third time.

The crowd is quieting down a little, interested in the strange turn of events. Above the murmurs and occasional shouts you can hear Rory’s frustrated pants, and Eddie’s mocking chuckle.

Rory might be bigger and stronger, but Eddie’s faster. He moves like a phantom, blink and you’d miss them movements carrying him from one side of the ring to the other, driving his opponent crazy. Rory’s desperation is starting to get the better of him, he’s clearly humiliated, they’re five minutes in and not a single punch has landed. His anger makes him sloppy, his steps turning to stumbles, his arms swinging with no finesse or control. He finally gives Eddie the perfect opportunity. Rory aims a jab at Eddie’s jaw, the curly haired boys face ducking just in time. For a split second Rory’s too focused on catching Eddie to remember to protect himself, his fists dropping and leaving his face completely exposed. With a sickening crunch, knuckles collide with the underside of his chin, head snapping back. Stiff as a board he falls, landing with a thud flat on his back, his arms and legs poker straight, unfocused eyes looking up at the ceiling. He’s out cold.

For a moment there’s no noise. No one moves, no one speaks. Soundless mouths hang open, all eyes in the room locked on Rory’s unconscious body, and the panting young man stood over him.

Steve breaks the silence.

“Fuck yeah Munson!” He roars, making you jump and sink your nails into his flesh in response.

Eddie’s chocolate eyes follow the sound to where you and Steve stand, both now cheering for him. He gives a goofy little wave, with a wink for you, and you’re grateful that Steve’s still holding you, or you might have melted into a puddle on the floor.

The men watching make noise once again, some cheering for their bets on the underdog making good, others groaning and cursing, a few chairs being flung over in frustration.

Steve gets back to work, leaving you to get on with your own job. Between pulling pints and pouring bourbon you keep glancing back over to the ring. Eddie fights three more times, winning each match. He doesn’t get out entirely unscathed, he catches a few hits to his jaw, and one particularly brutal looking punch to his temple. You hiss, watching him stagger back against the ropes, a little dazed. You’re too distracted to see that you’ve poured around four shots of vodka into the glass in your shaking hands, not that the customer is complaining. But Eddie brushes the hit off quickly, gritting his teeth and returning with a flurry of quick jabs, his hands a blur as they land on his opponents face with a series of loud smacks.

With Eddie’s hand still held high in victory the ref calls out for the next competitor to step up, but no one moves to enter the ring. It seems Eddie’s got them all scared shitless.

Your boss calls time on the matches, clapping his hand firmly between Eddie’s shoulder blades as he clambers over the ropes. He mutters something in Eddie’s ear, and the boy grins, giving him an eager nod. The two shake hands, and Eddie leaves him with a stack of bills wrapped in a rubber band. He squeezes through the crowd to the bar.

“Princess.” The boy smiles, hopping up onto a bar stool.

“Congratulations Eddie.” You say, placing another cognac down in front of him. As he takes a sip you hold out a clean dish towel wrapped around a few handfuls of ice.

“What’s this?” He says, taking the towel and turning it over in his hands, decorated in silver once again.

“For the egg on your head.” You reply, tapping a manicured finger to your temple.

Eddie nods, pressing the ice against the bruised lump next to his brow, wincing a little when it makes contact.

“How’re you feeling?” You ask.

“Never better doll.”

You try to ignore the way his pet names has heat pooling low in your belly, but a part of you thinks he must know, or at least suspect the effect his words have on you. He watches you through his heavy lashes, a small smirk on his lips.

“D’you enjoy it?” He asks.

You shrug, trying to play coy, focusing on the already dry glass in your hands that you’re still wiping with a rag.

“It was okay. Gets kind of old, if you’ve seen one fight you’ve seen em all.”

“Oof. You wound me princess.” He sighs, clutching a palm to his chest.

“That hurt worse than the blow to the head.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes as you bop down to tuck the glass on a shelf by your knees, unsure what to do with your hands now. You glance down the length of the bar, but there’s no one waiting to be served, no one to distract you from the pretty man leaning onto the sticky vinyl, his dark eyes locked on your face.

“Can I buy you a drink?” Eddie murmurs.

“Um, sure. Th-thanks.” You squeak in reply.

Eddie spends the rest of the evening propped up on a wobbly stool at the bar. He sips his way through three glasses of neat liquor, while you nurse a single dry martini, conscious that you don’t want to over do it and have your boss catching you sloppy drunk behind the bar. Again.

You snatch snippets of conversation from Eddie between serving other customers. Your patience is growing thin at the disruptions, it’s obvious to everyone in the room you’ve got one person on your mind from the way that you hurry through drinks orders, slamming glasses down with little care, barely looking patrons in the eyes, let alone making small talk with them. On a night like this you could easily walk away with a few of hundred dollars in crumpled bills stuffed into your bra, but your attitude is costing you.

Not that it matters. When Eddie closes his tab and says goodnight, he leaves you with a flirty wink, and five twenty dollar bills shoved into the tip jar. Your tongue presses against the inside of your cheek as you fight to wipe the sickly sweet smile off your face.

“Told you you’d love him.” Steve grins, passing by with an almost catatonic drunk in his arms, dragging him towards the exit.

“Fuck off Steve.” You bite back playfully.

Eddie returns every Friday night. The evenings take on somewhat of a routine. He starts at the bar with you, drinking neat liquor and chatting between the disruption of other customers expecting you to actually do the job you’re being paid to do. Before the fights begin, Eddie shrugs off his jacket and slides off each of his thick silver rings. He’s taken to leaving them with you for safe keeping, and sometimes when he’s in the ring you tuck your hand into your apron pocket, slipping your slim fingers into the metal bands, still warm from his skin.

He’s gone from being the underdog to a safe bet. In the weeks he’s been fighting he’s only ever lost one match, and you’d thankfully not been there to see him take the beating, your boss keeping you upstairs in the packed main bar for pay day weekend. You’d only found out about it when you wandered into the staff bathroom on your break, finding Eddie sitting on the lid of the toilet, his head slumped against the dirty wall of a cubicle, Steve squatted down in front of him wiping blood from under his swollen nose with a damp cloth.

“Jesus Eddie, you look like you’ve been hit by a truck.” You teased, hopping up to sit on the sink, stocking wrapped legs swinging.

“S’your fault princess.” He slurred through a pained smile, blood smeared across his teeth.

“I didn’t have my good luck charm down there.”

You pull a lock of your hair across your face to mask your gooey smile. A crimson stained rag lands in your lap.

“I’ve gotta get back. You can take over right sugar?” Steve says, already half out the door.

“Sure, no problem.”

You hop down from the sink, lowering yourself into a squat in front of Eddie. You resume the wiping, being as gentle as possible as you sweep the rag across Eddie’s bruised skin, blotting the fresh blood that drips from a cut above his brow. You wobble a little in your precarious position, but Eddie’s hands catch the tops of your arms before you can fall to the filthy floor.

“Thanks.” You mumble, folding the rag over and using a clean corner to dab at the last of the dried blood on his cupids bow.

“No problem doll.” He whispers. Goosebumps break out on your bare arms where Eddie’s calloused thumbs stroke over your skin. When you’ve cleaned up his face as best you can, you lay the cloth over Eddie’s thigh.

“Better?” You ask.

“Better.” He nods in agreement. You move to stand, using your hands on Eddie legs for leverage to push yourself up, but you stop when his hands lay over hours, keeping you in place. His knuckles are split in a few places, one particularly nasty gash above his ring finger, most likely from colliding with his opponents teeth. Bruises are already blossoming like cruel roses and violets beneath his pale flesh. You can feel the tremble of his hands over yours.

You move on instinct alone, not stopping to think if it’s really too forward, when you turn your hand over, cradling his palm in your fingers and bringing it up to your face. Your lips brush softly against his bruises, a chaste kiss to each of his sore knuckles, one by one.

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat.

“What was that for princess?” He murmurs, his eyes boring into yours, his pupils blown.

“Just kissing it better.” you say softly.

Eddie grins, moving to hold your jaw, his fingertips stroking over the soft skin of your cheek. A pleased hum rumbles in the back of your throat, your eyelids fluttering.

You mimic the action, your own fingertips carefully tracing across Eddie’s bruised jaw, the sharp angle littered with stubble that scratches the pads of your fingers. He winces slightly when you touch a particularly tender spot.

“Sorry.” You murmur.

Eddie clears his throat, a rosey blush tinting his cheeks.

“Don’t be. I uh… just think I might need a kiss there too.”

Wordlessly you reach up, guiding Eddie’s head down to meet you halfway. Your lips move lightly over his jaw, peppering a few kisses down from just below his ear to his chin.

“My uh - my forehead hurts too.” He whispers, the chocolate pools of his eyes glinting in the florescent lights.

“Aww does it?” You coo, giggling at how eagerly he nods.

You brush his bangs back from his forehead, leaving another light kiss to the left of his cut.

“And my nose.”

You nuzzle the tip of your nose against Eddie’s before pecking the rounded tip.

“Princess?”

“Yeah?”

“My lips hurt real bad.” He breathes.

You move before you can talk yourself out of it. It’s a timid kiss, partly because you don’t want to hurt him, but also because you’re terrified that he might change his mind and pull away. Your lips brush together softly, a barely there touch, and when you break away both you and Eddie exhale small sighs, warm breath mingling in the short distance between you. Your tongue traces against your buzzing bottom lip, a hint of metallic tang from Eddie’s blood on your taste buds.

If anyone asked you to imagine what the perfect first kiss might look like, you’d likely have pictured flickering candles and sweet perfumed roses, swelling orchestral music and birdsong. You would have never imagined squatting in a bathroom stall, the smell of piss and coppery blood in your nostrils, the low thud of bass from a shitty dance remix in your ears, and ‘Jason has a tiny cock’ scribbled on the wall besides your face.

But it was perfect.

Eddie pulls you up, guiding you to straddle over his lap, his hands finding home on the small of your back. He kisses you again, firmer this time, laced with wanting as he pulls you closer, your hands tangling in his wild curls, a little damp with sweat. You stay cradled in his lap, lips moving eagerly against each other, until Jen shouts out to you furiously, getting swamped on the bar and needing your assistance.

It had been a week. A week since you’d kissed Eddie, cradling his sore face in your hands while his fingertips traced patterns on your back under your shirt.

All week you’d found yourself brushing your fingers over you lips, swearing you could still feel the tingle from the contact of Eddie’s mouth on yours.

You haven’t seen him since, or spoken to him. But you know he’ll be here tonight, and it’s made you a mess, anxiety and excitement swirling in the pit of your stomach, your hands shaking harder with each drink that you pour. You’re not earning many tips, too distracted to make small talk with the customers and play into their blatant attempts at flirting. But the near empty jar on the end of the bar means nothing when you finally see him, striding confidently towards you, a bright smile breaking out on his face when your eyes meet.

“Hey princess.”

He rests his leather clad elbows on the vinyl counter, and you match his pose, your faces dangerously close over the bar.

“Hey Eddie. Want your usual?”

“I’m up first tonight sweetheart, so I probably don’t have time for a drink.”

“Oh.” Your disappointment melts into the thrill of him calling you sweetheart, a new pet name. He says it so softly, with tenderness in his eyes, and your knees threaten to buckle from under you.

“But I’ll be here after. I promise.” Eddie says, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Can’t wait.” You reply, his touch giving you the courage to be so honest.

Eddie grins, squeezing your fingers before he leans back, slipping his jacket off of his body. You hold your hands out to take it from him, tucking it under the bar over the top of your own jacket and purse. Eddie slips off each of his rings, dropping them into your upturned palm with quiet clinks. Instead of letting them fall into your pocket, you slide them onto your fingers, waggling them out in front of you, the silver glinting in the amber lights. They’re too big, turning and slipping down to your knuckles, so you curl your fingers into fists to keep them in place.

When you glance up, you see Eddie staring at your hands, entranced by the thick metal bands decorating them.

“Goddammit princess.” Eddie sighs, his voice low and rough.

“What?” you ask sweetly.

Eddie shakes his head, taking hold of your hands and entwining his fingers with yours.

“Nothin’. They just look good on you, s’all.”

Eddie turns to a call of his name, your boss impatiently waving him over ahead of the first match.

“I’ve gotta go sweetheart.”

“Be careful.” You say quietly, releasing his hands.

“I’ll be fine doll. I’ve got my good luck charm, right?” He grins.

“Yeah. D-do you want a good luck kiss?” you offer shyly, looking up at him through your lashes.

“Course I do.”

Eddie leans across the bar, sliding his hand to the back of your neck and pulling you in. It’s only a chaste kiss, closed mouthed and quick, but it’s enough to stoke the embers of desire that burn in your belly. When Eddie pulls away you’re breathless, gazing at him with wide eyes, the corners of your lips kicking up.

Eddie matches your grin, knocking his fist down twice on the sticky wood of the bar, before he turns and slips through the crowd to the ring.

He’s back on top form tonight. All three opponents fall quickly, succumbing to the fiercely sharp jabs that he rains down on them. His cocky grin never falters, boyish laughter carried through the humid air to you. He seems in his element up there, his body moving with an almost dance like prowess, ducking and weaving away from his opponents fists, too quick for them to make contact most of the time. Even the few knocks he does take do little to deter him, he just laughs in response to each hit, getting under the skin of the men swinging at him until they’re furious and reckless, giving him the opportunity to end the fights with devastating body blows or sharp right hooks to their jaws. The first two men are knocked out cold, and the final fight is called to a stop when Eddie’s opponent can no longer see to defend himself, his shattered eye sockets swelling like plums, lids squeezed shut by the pressure.

When he finally ducks under the ropes, anticipation tingles in your belly. His usual stool is empty, a glass ready and waiting to be topped up, your own martini beside it so you can toast to his victory.

However your boss seems to have other plans, pulling Eddie away in the other direction, his arm draped across the boys sweaty shoulders, hurriedly whispering in his ear.

“Hey!”

Your head snaps at the sharp voice directed your way.

“Dude, what is with you? I said we’re running out of glasses here. Can you go collect some empties?” your coworker spits.

“Alright, don’t get your panties in a twist.” You snarl back. With a huff you round to the other side of the bar, grabbing a tray as you go.

You squeeze through the crowded room, snatching up discarded glasses and filling the tray. On your way back to the bar you stop at one final table, a collection of empty shots in the centre.

“S’cuse me gentlemen.” You purr in your sweet customer service voice, leaning between two occupied chairs. Before you can stand up straight, a large hand wraps around your wrist, squeezing tight.

You frown, trying to carefully pull your arm free without jerking too hard and risking the tray in your other hand toppling.

“Hang on there babe.” The man drawls, tequila laced breath washing over your face.

“We don’t do table service. If you want another drink you gotta head to the bar.” You say in a bored voice.

“I don’t want a drink. I wanna talk to you.”

“What?” You snap. His fingers tighten around you, a dull ache forming in your wrist.

You take a moment to look at him. You’ve seen him around a few times before, a mouth full of gold teeth, ridiculous gang symbols tattooed on his neck and thick veiny arms. He’s muscle for one of the scary quiet types, the kind of guy who gets his hands dirty so his boss doesn’t have to. His pupils are wide as they study you, amber iris’s almost swallowed entirely by the black, explained by the smear of white beneath his nostrils.

“You datin’ that Munson fella? The one with all the hair?” He asks, his lips pulling back in a sneer, gold glinting at you.

“No. And even if I was, I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” you say haughtily. You try to rise to your full height, but he twists your arm to an angle that has you yelping and stooping back down to relieve the pressure.

“I think it is my business. In fact, I think it’s all of our business.” He says darkly. The other men around the table nod in agreement.

“You wanna explain that to me?” You reply, your attitude doing a decent job of masking the fear that’s bubbling up in your chest.

“S’funny, don’t you think? That scrappy piece of shit starts winning every fight he has in this place, and he just so happens to be screwing the staff.” The other men leer at his comments, their unwelcome eyes wandering over your chest. The tops of your breasts are bulging over the scoop neck of your shirt thanks to the position you’ve been pulled into, and with no free hands you’re unable to cover yourself from their lustful gazes.

“I’ve lost a lot of money tonight thanks to your boyfriend.” The thug continues.

“Like I said, he’s not my boyfriend. And if you’re stupid enough to bet against him, that’s your own problem. Now get the fuck off of me.” you spit. Your eyes are sharp as diamonds when you glare at him, lips pulled back, teeth ready to bite and draw blood.

“Or what?” He challenges.

“Or maybe I’ll let my boss know you’re suggesting that our fights are rigged. He won’t be too happy with that, and I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what happens to people who upset him.”

The thugs eyes darken, a flash of fury on his face.

“Are you threatenin’ me girl?” He mutters.

“Why? You feeling threatened?” You taunt.

A further twist of your wrist has your fingers opening, the shot glasses gripped within them falling to the table. He pulls your arm hard, his free hand coming up to roughly grab your jaw, blunt fingernails pressing crescents into your skin.

Every stacked glass on the tray comes tumbling to the ground, shattering with an almighty crash. They explode as they hit the sticky floor, tiny shards shooting up in every direction, the metal tray rolling away towards the bar.

“Do you have any idea who you’re messin’ with you fucking bitch?” The man grunts in your ear. He stands, kicking the chair out from under him and pulling you up as he goes. Your eyes dart around desperately for Steve, but you don’t find him, just a sea of shocked onlookers, all too hesitant to step in, lest they ignite the powder keg of the mixed clientele. Things got messy here all too easily, the tension running so high that all it took some nights was one ill judged comment and arms would start swinging, brawls breaking out across the room until your boss was cocking the shotgun he kept behind the bar in warning.

A quiet gasp escapes your lips when the hand on your jaw drops to your throat, his palm pressing down on your windpipe. Your own hands scramble desperately to your neck, sharp nails raking across the man’s flesh, tearing the back of his hands to bloody shreds. It does little to deter him, he just chuckles humourlessly at your panic, those hideous gold teeth shining at you in a mocking sneer.

Through increasingly hazy vision you catch a blur of chestnut brown and white.

The hand around your neck releases. Your lungs burn as you suck in a deep breath, knees buckling until you collapse on the ground, legs thankfully protected from the broken glass by the denim wrapped around them.

A match has been thrown onto the gunpowder. Noise erupts around you, furious shouts and screams, banging and snapping of furniture being broken. Bodies have swept into the space around the table, you’re surrounded by legs and feet, catching occasional kicks as the men around you take little interest in where you sit, not when there’s more excitement to be had. The room is buzzing with the thrill of a fight. Not something kept to the confines of a ring, with a few loosely upheld rules. No, this was different. It was raw, real, like sharks smelling blood in the water the men circle in to feast on the viciousness.

A set of hands grab you beneath your armpits. You shriek and thrash, until you hear that familiar voice in your ear.

“It’s me! Sugar, it’s me, I’ve got you.”

Steve pulls you to your feet, his broad arms wrapping around you from behind, a protective cage as he tugs you from the chaos.

After stumbling back a few feet, Steve releases you from his arms.

“Stay here.” He orders sharply, pushing past to rush back to the mess. It’s a blur of swinging limbs, bodies stumbling and falling, no one really sure who they’re fighting or why, they’ve just been waiting on any excuse to let off some steam.

With your arms wrapped around yourself, you watch as Steve pushes his way back into the centre, shoving bloody men out of the way as he goes. The other bouncers have all joined, pulling apart scraps, shouting orders for calm that fall on deaf ears.

Steve takes hold of the shirt of a man you recognise, he’d been sitting at the table just moments ago when the thug had grabbed of you. He pulls him back, flinging him to the ground and stepping over him. It clears a direct line of sight from you to Eddie.

You’ve never seen him like this. In all the times you’ve watched him fight he’s done so with a playful smile on his face, as though it were all a game to him. But he’s not playing now.

The man who’d choked you is starfished over the table, his arms flopped limply over the sides, head resting back on the wood. He’s clearly unconscious, eyes rolled back, mouth hanging open, but if Eddie’s noticed he doesn’t appear to care. His fists beat down on his face, turning it to a bloody pulp, nose almost flattened, lips torn, and a few less gold teeth wedged in his gums.

“Enough! Ed that’s enough!” Steve roars. He pins Eddie’s arms behind his back, but struggles to pull him away from the limp body strewn out before him, Eddie’s rage outweighing Steve’s strength.

A booming sound comes from behind you. You let out a scream, jolting in shock and spinning on your heels.

Smoke billows from the barrel of the shotgun in your boss’s hands. Chunks of plaster and dust fall from the ceiling, a hole blown away from the bullet he’d put there. In the years you’ve worked here you’ve never once seen him fire the gun.

Face purple with fury, a vein bulging across his forehead, he takes quick steps across the room, the shotgun now aimed squarely at the men who started the ruckus.

“Out! Now, the lot of you! And take that piece of shit with you.” He barks, nodding towards the thug who has somehow miraculously gained consciousness, choking on his own blood pouring into his mouth. You exhale a short sigh of relief. You were momentarily concerned Eddie had killed him.

“If I see any of you around here again I won’t be shooting at the fucking ceiling!”

The gang scurry to pick up their friend, dragging him towards the door. The rest of the patrons shuffle sheepishly, no one daring to make eye contact with the man still shaking head to toe with a gun in his hands.

“Get this place cleaned up!” He shouts to no one in particular.

The crowd begins to disperse, most of the customers grabbing their jackets and making a swift exit, while your colleagues begin to put the room back together.

Steve still has his arms clamped around Eddie, murmuring in his ear, trying to calm the fury that has Eddie’s body vibrating, his chest heaving with every deep breath he swallows down.

“Honey.”

Your boss’s voice has dropped to a lower register, the softness of his tone a stark contrast to his shouts just seconds ago.

“Are you okay?”

“I - I think so.” You whisper, still a little dazed.

“I’m sorry that you were put in that position. I pride myself on taking good care of you guys, I can promise you it won’t happen again.” He says solemnly, tucking the gun under his arm.

You nod meekly, still hugging your body tight. You think you might fall apart if you let go.

The man gives you a sympathetic look, before he turns his attention to the boys.

He stops in front of Eddie, holding his cheek in an almost fatherly gesture. He speaks too quietly for you to eavesdrop, but there’s a look of pride on his face as he talks. Eddie nods wordlessly, his eyes unfocused and distant. When it seems that he’s relaxed just a little, Steve releases him.

Your boss gives an affectionate tap to Eddie’s cheek, mutters something to Steve, then moves on, making his way back behind the bar to secure the shotgun in its previous position on the wall.

“I’m so sorry sugar.” Steve says sadly when you step up beside him.

“For what?” You ask.

“I told you I’d always got you. And tonight I didn’t.”

“Stop it Stevie, this wasn’t your fault.” You say warmly, sliding your arms around his waist. The boy sighs, resting his cheek on the top of your head as he holds you. When he pulls back he presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, and you flash him the brightest smile you can muster.

“Eddie’s gonna drive you home sugar. I don’t want you waiting for a cab, just in case any of those assholes are hanging around.”

“Okay. Th-thank you Eddie.” You murmur.

Eddie nods, but remains silent. He doesn’t look at you, merely continues to stare off into the distance, lost inside his own head. Purple bruises are already beginning to form on his pale face, and he’s got a few cuts to his cheekbones and jaw. He’s flecked in specks of crimson, across his face, his chest, his lean arms. But it’s not his blood. That’s clear enough when you dare a glance down at his hands. Fingers still curled into tight fists, trembling slightly, the taught skin slick with thick blood. The image of the thugs mashed and bloody face flashes in your mind. Silver weighs heavy in the pocket of your apron, and you thank god that Eddie hadn’t had a chance to come back to collect his rings before the nights events unfolded.

You retrieve your belongings from behind the bar, draping the heavy leather of Eddie’s jacket over one arm. When you meet him in the doorway he makes no motion to take it from you, so you carry it as you follow him wordlessly to his van. As you walk, you dig inside his pockets, ignoring lighters and balled up receipts until you locate his keys.

At his vehicle, you walk around the the drivers side, opening the door for yourself and climbing in.

“What’re you doing?” Eddie asks with a frown.

“I don’t think you should be driving Ed.” You say softly, nodding down at his trembling hands.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her.” You smile, patting the dashboard affectionately.

Eddie doesn’t react to your joking. He walks like a zombie around the front of the van, and gets into the passenger side.

A heavy silence bears down on you as you drive. You steal glances over at the boy beside you, he hasn’t moved or said a word the entire time, and it’s putting you on edge.

“Are you okay?” You whisper. It’s a stupid question really, it’s obvious he’s far from okay.

He doesn’t answer.

“W-what are you thinking about?” You probe again.

After a pause that feels like it lasts an eternity, Eddie exhales a deep sigh.

“I’m thinkin’ I should’ve killed that fucking prick for putting his hands on you.”

A cold shiver ripples up your spine, bursting at the nape of your neck and spreading goosebumps down your exposed arms. The darkness of Eddie’s tone is so at odds with his usual warmth, all the teasing and flirting, you can’t stop you jaw from falling slack in surprise.

The van rolls to a stop at a red light. The streetlights cast an amber glow across Eddie’s pale face, illuminating the droplets splashed across him, evidence of how close he had gotten to following through on his words.

Despite the heat kicking out of the vans vents, he’s still shaking, body a live wire that hums and vibrates in his seat.

“Eddie.” You sigh.

“Look at me.”

He hesitates for a moment, before finally turning to face you. The deep furrow of his brow and the hardened steel of his eyes softens when he sees your pouting bottom lip. He melts, those chocolate eyes that you adore so much rounding, full of sadness and fear.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

“W-what? Why are you sorry?” you reply.

His knuckles click as he unfurls his fists, stretching out his fingers across his thighs.

“I didn’t want you to see me like that. Ever. I’m - I’m not that person, I’m not like that anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

The light outside turns from red to green. But it’s late, the roads empty, so you make no effort to move.

“I used to be angry, all the time. I got in fights a lot, real ones, like that. I would s-seek them out, y’know? Go looking for trouble, push some asshole’s buttons in a bar until he snapped, let him drag me outside so I could blow off steam by beating the shit out of him.”

Eddie pauses, chokes off his words with a nervous gulp, his adams apple bobbing in the pale expanse of his throat. You don’t say anything, giving him the space to continue.

“I had a reputation back home, people were scared of me. And I gave them a reason to be. But I’m n-not like that now. I’m better. I’ve got better friends, they helped me learn to control my temper. I only fight when I’m getting paid.”

Eddie’s jaw clenched tight, the muscles twitching, his teeth grinding together loud enough for you to hear it over the rumble of the engine.

“But - fuck. When I saw that asshole tonight, when I saw him grab you. With his fucking hand on your neck. I - I just, lost it. It all came back, I couldn’t control it. I knew I needed to stop, I knew I was taking it too far, but it’s like my brain and my hands weren’t connected, I couldn’t do it. If Steve hadn’t have grabbed me, I don’t know what I would’ve done.”

“You would’ve stopped Eddie, of course you would.” You offer, reaching over to squeeze his thigh.

“I don’t know if that’s true.” He murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. Tears well up along his lash line, spilling over with a single blink.

“It is.” You insist, firmer now.

“You’re not a bad person Eddie. You were defending me.”

He sniffs, titling his head back and blinking rapidly to keep his tears in.

“I just don’t want you to be afraid of me.” He admits quietly.

“Eddie. I could never be scared of you.” You smile.

He exhales a shuddering breath, his head lolling against the head rest to turn to you.

“You know I’d never hurt you right. Never.”

“I know.” You nod.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You’re bathed in green once again, the lights having made their way through a few cycles as you sat reassuring the boy. Your foot presses down on the gas, one hand on the wheel, the other staying in place on Eddie’s denim clad thigh.

You swing the van into the empty space on the street in front of your neighbours Buick, impressing yourself with parallel parking something of this size. You kill the engine, swinging the keys around your finger as your legs kick out of the open door, gravel crunching under your boots when you drop to the ground. Eddie clambers out of his seat a little slower, his body stiff and sore. He meets you at the hood of the vehicle, holding out his bloody palm for the keys.

“I don’t think so mister.” You tease, shoving them into the back pocket of your jeans.

“What?” Eddie asks.

“You’re in no position to drive home. You need to clean up and get some rest.” You insist, breezing past him to open your front door.

Surprisingly Eddie doesn’t argue, following behind you into the tiny hallway. He toes off his sneakers, leaving them by your boots, then stands awkwardly on the door mat, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Bathroom’s upstairs, first door on the right.” You tell him, making your way down the hall to the kitchen.

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

Eddie clambers up the creaking stair case, making sure to keep his dirty hand off the polished wood of the bannister. He nudges the bathroom door open with his elbow, using it again to flick the light switch.

He blinks in the harsh overhead lighting, shuffling over the cream tiled floor that chills his feet. The walls are lined in similar cream tiles, the bathtub, sink, and toilet all pale avocado. A collection of bottles rest on the bathtub, bubble bath and shampoo, the reason your hair always carries the faint sweetness of strawberries. A spider plant in a chipped pink pot rests on the counter besides the sink, surrounded by discarded lipsticks and face creams.

Eddie nudges the silver tap on the sink with his forearm, holding his hands under the stream of cool water. It stings the grazes on his knuckles as the blood is sluiced away, rose tinted water swirling around the bowl and disappearing down the gurgling drain. When the worst of it is gone, he takes the sliver of soap from the pink ceramic tray, rubbing it between his palms until his hands are coated in the slimy suds. He scrubs at his arms, removing every fleck of blood that’s landed there.

You slip into the bathroom behind him, catching his eye in the mirror above the sink. You flash him a warm smile, a first aid kit tucked under your arm, two glasses of liquor in your hands.

Eddie shakes his wrists over the sink, turning off the tap and grabbing the fluffy hand towel to dry his arms.

“Sit.” you order, nodding to the closed lid of the toilet.

Eddie does as he’s told without protest, murmuring his thanks when you hand him his drink. He takes a small sip, the bourbon stinging the cut on his lip, but the burn is welcome as it slides down his throat, warming him from the inside out as it settles in his stomach.

You’re ringing out a wash cloth that you’d been running under a stream of warm water. With one hand curling carefully under Eddie’s chin, you tilt his head back, and begin to clean his face. You’re slow and gentle, daubing at his skin with the damp cloth, removing the evidence of the nights events. Some of them at least, there’s little you can do about the cut on his lip, or the deep bruises spreading across his cheekbones.

When all the blood is gone you toss the cloth into your laundry basket. Flipping open the first aid kit, your fingers dig through to locate the Neosporin. You smear a thin layer of the ointment to any grazes and cuts on Eddie’s face, before turning your attention to his hands, taking them one by one so you can give his split knuckles the same treatment.

When you’re done, you don’t release Eddie’s hands, keeping your fingers interlaced with his, thumbs brushing tenderly over his sore skin.

“Do I get more kisses? To make it better?” Eddie whispers with a smirk.

You smile and giggle, all coquettish and shy. Bending at the waist you let your lips brush against Eddie’s, feeling him smile through the kiss. Gentle pecks melt into deeper presses of your lips, Eddie’s hands cupping your jaw to pull you in closer. He winces from the cut on his lip stinging at the contact, but he’s too enamoured with you to care.

Eddie’s knees are pressing against your own. You part your legs, moving to straddle his lap, your hands sliding up over his shoulders.

“Hang on.” He whispers against your lips, hands moving to your hips to stop your movements.

“What’s wrong?” You grumble. Eddie chuckles at your disappointed pout, wanting to kiss it away.

“Nothings wrong. I just think we shouldn’t make a habit of making out on the toilet.” He laughs.

Eddie stands, one arm looking your waist and pulling you until you’re flush to his chest.

“We could make out in my room if you’d prefer?” You offer, owlish eyes blinking innocently, a contrast to your salacious tone.

“I think that’d be better baby.” Eddie grins.

You hurry down the hall to your room, dragging Eddie behind you. You burst in through a fit of nervous giggles, walking back until your legs collide with the edge of your bed. You sink down onto the mattress, watching through hooded eyes as Eddie approaches.

He comes to a stop in front of you, nudging your legs apart with his knee and slotting himself between. The bulge in his jeans is at your eye level, zipper straining tight, struggling to contain what hides within. You reach out for his belt buckle, but before you can get your hands on him, Eddie sinks to his knees on your plush carpet.

“What’re yo-“

Eddie cuts off your questioning with a kiss, his probing tongue slipping past your lips to explore your mouth. He moans at your taste, smoky bourbon lingering on your tongue, cherry chapstick on your lips. As his mouth devours you, his hands glide down your torso, squeezing at your sides before popping the button on your jeans.

He breaks the kiss, leaning back to tug at the denim on your hips. He pulls the material down your legs, panties coming too, until your bottom half is completely bare to him.

Eddie groans, a deep sound from his chest, as his hands land on your knees, parting your plush thighs and exposing your core to him.

“You’re so beautiful.” He murmurs, eyes flicking up from your slick heat to your flushing face.

“Can I taste you princess?”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Y-you don’t have to.”

“I want to baby. Please. I need to taste this pretty pussy, bet you taste so fucking sweet.” Eddie pleads.

You acquiesce, a quick nod giving Eddie the permission he craves.

He smirks, all plump rosey lips and even pearly teeth. His hands pull you firmly to the edge of the bed, tossing your legs up over his shoulders. Then he dives in.

It’s hard to tell who’s enjoying this more. You whimper and writhe, Eddie’s hands holding your hips in a bruising grip, keeping you where he needs you as he buries his face into you.

He suckles at your clit, capturing the treasure between his lips and flicking his skilled tongue over it, his moans sending the most delicious vibrations through you. He moves down, the rounded tip of his nose pressing into your mons, tongue eagerly lapping at the honey that flows from your entrance.

“So fucking sweet. So sweet f’me doll.” Eddie groans.

You choke on a high pitched whine when Eddie spits on your cunt, his tongue filthily swirling the salvia with your essence, smearing wetness across your skin. He sucks and slurps, lewd sounds echoing off your bedroom walls, swallowing down the slick that now tastes entirely of you.

Your body is burning hot, a thin sheen of sweat caressing your skin. Fingers tangled in Eddie’s curls, gripped tight at his scalp. You use it as leverage to rock your hips against his face, chasing the high that’s building. Heat blooms deep in your belly, spreading like molten honey through your bones, until your legs shake where they sit over Eddie’s shoulders.

He knows you’re close, doubling down on his efforts. He captures your clit between his lips once again, swirling his tongue in tight circles, shaking his head occasionally to tug at the throbbing bud.

“Eddie - Ed - fffuck! Fuck I’m gonna cum.” You whine. Your head drops back against the mattress, back lifting in a deep arch, tears spilling from the corner of your eyes.

“Let me have it baby.” Eddie mumbles in your pussy.

A few more expert flicks of his tongue has you falling into sweet euphoria. Heat and pressure bursts in your belly, rippling through your limbs and turning them to jelly. You’re boneless, laying limp on the mattress, chest heaving as you suck in deep breaths.

Eddie leaves one last sweet kiss to your clit, chuckling at the way your hips jolt. He stands up, looking over you hungrily. His confident grin shines in the soft light of your room, lips swollen and red, his cheeks and chin glossy with your arousal.

He clambers carefully over you, resting his weight on his forearms either side of your head.

You whine his name, a pathetic sound, weak fingers curling in the fabric of his vest.

“What’s the matter doll? What’dya need?” He whispers.

“A kiss.” You pout.

Eddie ducks down, kissing you all slow and sweet. His mouth tastes like you, the sweet, tangy taste of your orgasm. He gasps against your lips when your hand slides down to cup his aching hard on through his jeans. Your fingers fumble with his belt, noisily unclipping the buckle, the metal teeth of his zipper groaning as you slide it down. Eddie groans himself at the relief of pressure, your hand slipping through the opening, fingers wrapping around his length and giving and experimental tug.

“Shit.” Eddie whimpers. The corners of your lips curl into a devilish smile, and he rushes to kiss the dimples that form.

You huff in frustration. You’re pushing at the waistband of his jeans and boxers, unable to get them down over his ass. Eddie stands up, shoving off the offending items and stepping out of them. He grabs the hem of his shirt, tugging it up over his head and dropping it to the floor.

In the mean time you’ve discarded your own shirt, bra following soon after.

Eddie stops, eyes moving greedily over your body. Your legs are still parted, pussy slick and puffy from Eddie’s earlier affections. He follows over the softness of your stomach, up to where your newly revealed breasts rise and fall with each breath, nipples hardened by the cool air of the room to perfect points. Up your delicate neck and past your kiss bitten lips he find your eyes, drinking him in.

Your gaze is locked on the thick length between Eddie’s legs. Long, uncut, curling just a little to the left, a prominent vein decorating the underside. Your breathing is shallow, eyes glassy and unfocused, mouth salivating at the thought of him resting heavy on your tongue.

Eddie curls a bruised hand around his cock, giving a few slow strokes as he climbs back onto the bed. His narrow hips fit between your spread thighs, the fat head of his cock gliding through your folds, catching on your clit and making you mewl.

But you don’t miss the wince when Eddie’s sore hands press into the mattress. He hisses lowly when he rocks his hips forwards, the pain in his torso catching up with him. His sides are littered with bruises, imprints of fists that had pummelled into him from the other gang members trying to halt his assault on their friend.

“Eddie, are you okay?” You ask, brushing a few loose curls back from his face and tucking them behind his ear.

“M’better than okay sweetheart. Got the prettiest girl I’ve ever met under me.”

Your eyes glitter at the praise. But it doesn’t distract you from your concern for him.

“You look like you’re in pain Ed.”

“I’m a bit sore. But I’ll be fine.” He grunts. He slides a calloused palm under your thigh, hiking it up over his hip, whimpering when your leg brushes against a tender spot.

“Eddie.” You say firmly, laying your hand flat over his chest.

“We don’t have to do this if you’re in too much pain. I’ll suck you off, if you want?”

“No.” He says through gritted teeth.

“As much as I’d love that, I need to feel you princess. Want to feel you stretched around my cock.” A sharp tap of his head against your clit tears a wanton moan from your throat.

“Don’t you want that baby?” He murmurs.

“Yes.” You sigh dreamily.

“I want your cock Eddie. But - can you roll over for me?”

The boy nods, climbing off you and laying flat on his back, his curls fanning out across your pillows.

You manoeuvre yourself over his lap, thighs bracketing his hips. With a hand curled around Eddie’s cock you begin to lower yourself, guiding him through your wetness. You gasp when his head pops into your entrance, the stretch causing a sharp sting. Eddie’s hands squeeze the fat of your hips, a motion designed to soothe as you drop lower, until he’s fully sheathed inside you.

“Oh my god.” You whine. You feel so full, legs shaking as the pain melts into pleasure, a small bulge forming in your lower tummy.

“S’so deep.”

“You’re doing so good for me sweetheart. Taking me so well.” Eddie coos, thumbs pressing into your hips to encourage you to move.

Your hands lay flat behind you, supporting your weight on Eddie’s thick thighs, keeping your hands away from the bruises on his abdomen. An experimental roll of your hips has both of you moaning in unison, Eddie’s cock pressing against your sweet spot.

You find a steady rhythm, hips circling in lazy figure eights, the trimmed coarse hairs at Eddie’s base brushing against your clit. His cock shines with your arousal as it slides in and out of you, and Eddie can’t take his eyes off it, in awe of the way your pussy wraps snugly around him, sucking him back in greedily each time you lift up.

“I- it d-doesn’t hurt, does it?” You pant.

Eddie smiles up at you, his chest aching at your sweetness, still so worried about him.

“No doll, it doesn’t hurt. Y-you can go faster, if you want.”

You respond with a sharper snap of your hips, speed steadily increasing until you’re riding him with reckless abandon. The room fills with the sound of sweat slick skin slapping on skin, the combination of your arousal and Eddie’s precum causing lewd squelching, his thick length gliding smoothly against your silk walls.

“Fuck - that’s it baby. That’s it, bounce on my cock.” Eddie groans. His teeth are gritted, sweat beading along his hairline, fingertips bruising your hips.

You can feel that pressure building in your core again, a coil winding tight, threatening to snap. Your pussy clenches tighter, choking a loud moan from the man writhing beneath you.

“You close princess?” He asks. You whine, nodding eagerly, all words failing you.

A hand snakes around to the back of your neck, pulling you down until you’re laying over Eddie, the peaks of your nipples rubbing against the fine hairs on his tattooed chest.

You gasp out his name, but he shushes your protest with a fierce kiss, his tongue finding home in your warm mouth. The new angle has you pressing against all the most tender spots of his body, but Eddie’s too lost in you to care. He braces his feet against the mattress, bucking his hips to fuck up into your tight heat, punching moans out of you with every harsh thrust.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, Eddie panting against your lips with the exertion. Your second orgasm washes over you, velvet walls rippling with intense pleasure that has Eddie following close behind you, warmth flooding inside you, soothing the parts of you that are surely bruised from the assault of his thick cock.

He cries your name, arms folded tight around your back, pinning you in place as he thrusts through the overstimulation, wanting to drag out both your highs for as long as possible.

“E-Eddie.” You plea, voice high and weak, completely fucked out. He slows to a stop, pressing kisses to your damp forehead. His tongue darts out to trace across his lips, tasting the salt of your skin.

Sliding off Eddie’s lap, you curl yourself against his side, thighs clenched tight together to keep his seed from spilling out. Eddie takes the hand you leave resting on his chest, bringing it to his face so he can press kisses to the pads of your fingers. He feels your eyes on him, tilting his head down to find you looking up at him like he hung the moon and all the stars. In this post orgasm afterglow, he thinks you’re more beautiful than ever. Lips swollen and glossy, hair mussed, skin dewy with sweat.

“Was that okay sweetheart?” He says quietly.

You nod, your cheek brushing against his pec where it rests.

“Perfect. You’re not too sore?” You ask.

Eddie shakes his head.

“I’m okay.”

“So you don’t need any kisses?” You tease, giving him a pout, eyes rounded in faux sadness.

“Oh baby.” Eddie grins, ignoring the throbbing in his ribs as he rolls onto his side, pulling you flush to his body.

“I always need your kisses.”

There was something so comforting about Eddie’s bedroom. Pictures and band posters covered almost every inch of the weathered trailer’s walls. Knick knacks and odd little trinkets scattered across all surfaces along with magazines and various things that probably belong in the trash. Guitars and amps in every corner, maybe the only things in the room placed with care. Half of his wardrobe was lazily tossed on the carpet. It was messy sure but it was Eddie, a perfect picture of his mind. You were lying on his unmade bed, tossing an old baseball you had plucked from his dresser into the air and catching it repeatedly. 

Eddie was your best friend, you had spent every Friday night for the last three years over at his trailer once his uncle Wayne had left for his night shift. The two of you would smoke from his personal stash, order takeout and chill out with some crappy movie from Family Video. You had graduated your senior year first time round while Eddie was now on his third attempt. You had briefly worried that leaving him behind would affect your friendship but if anything it had become stronger, not seeing each other at school all day, every day made you realise how much you missed each other leading to more time hanging out alone. He stayed behind for Hellfire on Fridays which more often than not ran late. You didn’t mind though, you knew how much the club meant to Eddie. You knew where the spare key was hidden and after the first time you had sat on his porch waiting for close to an hour he had insisted you started letting yourself in.

Which is what led you to where you were now, alone on his bed, trying to keep yourself entertained until his return. Your next throw was a little misaligned and you almost tumbled off his bed as you stretched out to catch the ball. You missed and it hit his nightstand, rolling beneath his bed and out of sight. You groaned, comfortably wrapped in a cocoon of his sheets you reluctantly shuffled yourself to the floor. 

You stuck your arm out as far as you could reach and felt around blindly, knocking over several things that were not baseball shaped before you gave up and stuck your head under too. Oh hello you thought, brows piqued in curiosity when you spied a stack of magazines and two or three videotapes pushed far back behind the clutter. Of course you suspected it was porn, why else would it be hidden albeit poorly so. You snorted as you pulled out the first magazine, lo and behold you were right on the money. With a smirk on your face you started to flick through the pages, taking note of which ones seemed more crumpled than others. 

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t wondered what Eddie was into, you’d thought about it on multiple occasions. He may be one of your best friends but there was no denying that he was a very pretty boy. You had settled for his friendship, just grateful to be a part of his life even if you craved something deeper. If he ever tried to make a move on you even now, you would definitely let it happen. You flicked through a few of the magazines without coming across anything too scandalous. They were pretty generic, just your average girly mags. You had always been under the impression that Eddie was into something a little kinkier, sure he was a huge dork but there was something about his confidence and loud mouth that gave him an edge. That being said, a beautiful naked woman was still a beautiful naked woman generic or not, why wouldn’t he get off to them? Pushing the magazines aside you reached further beneath the mattress until you had hold of one of the video tapes, you scoffed at the title ‘In Diana Jones and The Temple of Poon’.

“Oh my God, Eddie,” you laughed as you stretched your arm to grab the other two. 

‘Erotic Nights of the Living Dead’ and a more normal looking one called ‘Insatiable’. You were so engrossed in reading the back covers of the tapes that you failed to hear the rumbling of his van pulling up outside the trailer, nor his clunky boots stomping up the concrete steps. You jumped at the sound of the trailer door swinging open and scrambled to shove the porn back beneath his bed. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough. Eddie sauntered into his room and froze when he realised what you had in your lap. 

“Have you been snooping?” He gasped, a hand held over his heart in mock insult. 

His tone was teasing so you knew he wasn’t mad but you still felt a pang of guilt for invading his privacy. 

“Yes,” you admitted, shoulders slumped forward. “But it was an accident I swear, I lost the baseball under the bed.”  

“Mmhm,” he hummed, arms crossed over his chest disapprovingly, lips pressed into a thin line. 

“I didn’t see anything,” you held your hands up once the last tape had been flung back under the bed out of sight. “It’s like nothing ever happened.”

“Oh I don’t care that you found my self care stash,” Eddie shrugged casually as you stood and followed him through to the front room, your cheeks burned hot at his choice of words. “But I fully expect to see yours next time we’re at your place, fair’s fair.” 

“I don’t have a stash,” your preferred porn came in the form of erotic novels instead of tapes but he didn’t need to know that. 

“Sure you don’t,” he shot you an over-exaggerated wink to let you know he didn’t believe you and flopped himself down on the couch. 

You smacked his feet out of the way and made yourself comfortable at opposite end. Eager to change the subject, you asked him how Hellfire went and he launched into a whole story about his latest campaign. You had never quite got the hang of DnD on the occasions you had sat in on Hellfire, and a lot of the time you didn’t fully understand what Eddie was talking about but you could listen to him talk about the things he was passionate about for hours. You loved hearing the excitement in his voice and you couldn’t get over how cute he looked when his eyes lit up with joy the way they were doing right now. It was clear how much Eddie loved Hellfire, so you loved that he wanted to share parts of it with you. You asked him about school, he asked you about work. You gossiped about the townspeople and laughed until your stomachs hurt.  A while had passed when you started to feel the empty pit of hunger and Eddie suggested ordering some food. 

“Pizza good?” 

“Sure,” You agreed, stretching your legs across the sofa as he walked over to the phone. “What movie did you get?” 

“I didn’t get the movie,” he turned to you with a confused expression. “You were supposed to get the movie.”

“Nope, you definitely said you would call at Family Video on your way home from Hellfire,” you told him confidently. 

“Why would I say that when I was already running late?” 

“Well it was obviously before you were running late. How would you know you were going to be late ahead of time?” 

“Well I guess we aren’t watching a movie then,” he concluded. 

You were both as stubborn as each other and he knew you would be playing the blame game all night if he didn’t cut your bickering short. 

“I dunno, we could always watch Erotic Nights of the Living Dead,” you only half joked. 

He spun on his heel, brows disappearing beneath his wispy bangs as he stared at you in disbelief. You couldn’t tell whether he was amused or horrified by your suggestion so you decided to play it safe. 

“Kidding,” you rolled your eyes and he scoffed, picking up the phone to order the pizzas. 

Once he had hung up the phone he disappeared to his room and returned with two pre-rolled joints. You smoked while you waited for your food to arrive and complained about the lack of decent shows as you tried to agree on something to watch on the tv. A knock on the door forced you to settle on reruns of an old cartoon whilst Eddie jumped up to grab the pizza. Your stomach growled as the aroma hit your senses and you wasted no time digging into your half of the cheesy deliciousness. Eddie however was a little slower as he carefully flicked the black olives off your choice of the Italian sausage pizza. It made you smile knowing that he didn’t like them, yet he always ordered it anyway because it was your favourite. When your bellies were full you cycled through the channels one more time and groaned when you still found nothing of appeal to either of you. 

“It’s Friday night!” You complained. “How is there not a single good thing to watch?” 

Eddie stretched his arms above his head and blew a raspberry between his lips as he stared blankly at the god awful soap opera currently on screen. Your gaze was immediately drawn to the delicious trail of hair disappearing below his belt and you were powerless to stop your mind from wandering to the most sinful places. 

“I mean, we actually could watch the zombie porn?” You suggested. 

“Are you serious?” He snickered, his nervousness given away by the way his voice rose several octaves. 

“Yeah,” you shrugged, desperately hoping you appeared nonchalant. “I’m kinda curious, is it good?” 

“No,” he laughed properly this time. “It’s fucking terrible.” 

“Then why do you have it?” You questioned. 

“I dunno? I like horror movies. I like porn. My horny brain thought what’s not to love? Turns out those are two things that should never be mixed together.”

“Ugh,” you grimaced in agreement. “Okay so we could watch one of the other ones then?” 

“You really wanna watch porn together?” 

He couldn’t believe you were actually proposing this. Despite how close you were, sex had never been a topic of conversation between the two of you. He didn’t have anything to discuss anyway. Eddie was still a virgin, the only stories he would have to tell you were of him and his own right hand. 

Eddie was aware that you lost your virginity long ago. You had told him the first time it happened and then never mentioned hooking up with anyone again for which he was grateful, he didn’t think he could handle the kind of raging jealousy he felt that first time. He had considered shooting his shot and asking you out on a real date but you seemed pretty content being his friend. 

“It doesn’t have to be a big deal,” you pressed. 

You didn’t even know why you were pushing it so hard. You had been curious about the tapes but they weren’t worth making things weird between you and Eddie. Perhaps you were just more stubborn than you liked to admit. You’d committed to the idea now and you weren’t backing down unless he was totally, one hundred percent repulsed by it. Eddie was staring, round eyed and slack jawed as he waited for your inevitable “just kidding”, which of course never came. 

“Alright fuck it,” he scoffed, shrugging as he hauled himself up from the couch and made his way back to his room.

A mixture of excitement and nerves bubbled in your belly as you waited alone on the couch. He came skipping back waving his copy of Insatiable. You bit your lip nervously as it dawned on you he had chosen the one that looked like serious porn. At least with the Indiana Jones parody you could have laughed your way through any awkward moments. You twisted your fingers in your lap while he crouched down in front of the VCR and got the tape set up. After pressing play he flopped down next to you, shuffling around to get comfy on the sofa. He thought he had been subtle but you hadn’t missed him picking up one of the cushions and placing it over his lap. The possibility of Eddie sitting right next to you with a raging boner had your stomach flipping in anticipation. 

The film opened with a scene of a woman masturbating, you kept your gaze stubbornly  locked on the television screen but from the corner of your eye you watched Eddie’s knee start bouncing with nervous energy. 

You had been watching for all of two minutes and the energy in the trailer had already turned electric. If you hadn’t had your eye on him the entire time you would’ve sworn Eddie had turned up the thermostat because the air was suddenly stifling. You had to remind yourself to breathe as the thump of your heart steadily quickened. Eddie was watching you more than he was watching the TV, you could feel his eyes burning into you as he focused on the subtle changes in your facial expressions. Particularly the way your mouth formed a soft oh as you watched the woman pumping her perfectly manicured fingers in and out of her pussy. He took note of the way your chest was rising and falling a little faster, the way your hips were shifting ever so slightly. This was turning you on. Which in turn made Eddie’s cock strain even more painfully against his zipper than it already was from watching the movie alone. 

Eddie was in hell. The scene had now switched to two women eating each other out and he was desperate to undo his jeans to give himself just a fraction of the relief his body was screaming for. Your expression had changed to one he couldn’t quite read, you still looked like you were enjoying it, only now your brows were knitted together almost as if you were frowning. 

“You okay?” Eddie choked, immediately embarrassed by how broken his voice sounded. 

You nodded, still not taking your eyes off the TV.  

“I guess I’m just wondering what that feels like, you know?” You jutted your chin towards the scene playing in front of you. “Guys don’t actually like doing that.”

“What?” Eddie asked incredulously. “Are you telling me no one’s ever gone down on you?” 

“Nope,” you sighed, of the handful of people you had slept with you hadn’t had much luck. They were all pretty selfish lovers. “I’ve tried to ask for it a few times but no one was into it.”

“Pussies,” Eddie scoffed. 

“Do you do it?” You questioned, your own voice had risen in pitch at the thought of his messy curls buried between your legs. 

Shit. He walked himself right into that one. The truth was that Eddie would love to go down on someone, he’d just never been given the opportunity. He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously as he tried to think of a response that didn’t require him to tell the truth. 

“Eddie?” You asked at his fidgety silence. “Are you okay?”

“Yep, yep, I just uh-“ he huffed a laugh, with his mind drawing blank he had no choice but to confess. “I’ve never done it either. I’ve never done anything, actually.”

“What?” Your attention was completely off the film now as you turned your entire body ninety degrees to face Eddie head on. “You’re still a virgin?” 

Eddie felt his face flaming with embarrassment hearing you say it out loud. He knew this whole thing was a fucking stupid idea. 

“Not by choice,” he snapped, a little hurt when he mistook your surprise as you poking fun at him. 

“No no no, I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, not at all,” you assured him, scooting closer to rest a comforting hand on his forearm. He tightened his grip on the cushion still hiding his erection. “I’m just shocked because, well - have you seen you?” 

“What do you mean?” He raised his eyebrows in question. 

“You’re hot.” 

You said it so matter of factly but all he could do was roll his eyes at you, assuming you were just trying to humour him. 

“You’ve been out in public with me,” he refuted. “Girls actively go out of their way to avoid me.”

They did, you had witnessed it happen and you hated it. You could say with absolute confidence that it had nothing to do with his looks. It was the “devil worshipping” rumours that had spread around town like wildfire, and since ninety percent of Hawkins’ population were complete morons they bought into said rumours. Of course not a single one was true, the only thing Eddie was guilty of was being unapologetically himself.

“Doesn’t mean you’re not hot.”

“Okay,” he sighed, still sceptical. “Even so, no one is lining up to fuck the town freak.” 

“Don’t,” you told him sternly, you had made it a habit to scold him anytime he referred to himself by the title he’d been unfairly burdened with. “Don’t call yourself that.” 

A sad smile settled over his features and he placed a hand on top of your own, his fingers enveloping yours in a grateful squeeze. You sat in silence for a few moments, the only sounds echoing through the trailer were the obnoxious moans coming from the TV. It was very intrusive of what was supposed to be a tender moment and you couldn’t help bursting into a fit of laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation you had found yourselves in. Your guffaws were infectious and Eddie couldn’t help but join you until you were clutching your stomachs for air, matters were only made worse when you chanced a look at the screen to see the main actress now giving a very enthusiastic blow job to what looked like a delivery man. You leaned forward and rested your forehead on his shoulder as your laughter subsided into soft giggles, his still shaking shoulder jostling your head every now and again. 

“I wonder what it feels like too,” he blurted out.

You lifted your head to look at him in question, he nodded towards the screen as you had done moments ago to see the woman currently gagging on the man’s cock. 

“Oh,” you exhaled, your mind racing as it occurred to you this was the perfect time to finally make your move. 

Little did you know, Eddie’s thoughts were in exactly the same place. The amount of times he’d dreamed of kissing you alone, he never thought he would have the chance to explore his feelings for you deeper but this bizarre idea you had created the perfect opening. Sucking in a shaky breath and prepared to shoot his shot. 

“Here’s a crazy idea,” he started. “And just tell me to shut up if I’m picking up the wrong vibe...”

Your insides fluttered as it became clear you were on the same page.

“We both wanna know what it feels like,” you finished for him. “We could help each other out.” 

“You don’t have to-“ he started rambling. “I mean I really wanna go down on you - if you’ll let me - but I don’t expect you to suck my dick if you don’t wa-“

“I definitely want to,” you cut him off by placing a hand over his mouth to shut him up, you felt his mouth curl into a smile against your palm. 

You removed your hand and shuffled closer until you were almost sitting in his lap, he twisted his body slightly to face you more comfortably. 

“Okay erm - Do you wanna kiss first?” He asked hesitantly. 

God. He chided himself. Why do you sound so awkward? You’ve wanted this for years. 

“Of course,” you giggled like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “C’mere.” 

Placing your palms on either side of his face you guided him towards your lips. It was slow and gentle at first, curious as you got a feel for one another. His lips were warm and soft, the way you had always imagined them. The kiss deepened when you felt him tease your lower lip with the tip of his tongue. You granted him access, surprised yet delighted that he was quickly gaining confidence. His hands which had at first been twisting awkwardly in his lap found firm purchase on your thighs. He squeezed the doughy flesh there and you grinned against his lips when he released a soft sigh of content. Giving you both a much needed chance to breathe he pulled away ever so slightly, staying close enough for the tips of your noses to graze affectionately. 

“Does it feel weird?” He asked, his hot breath fanning delicately over your skin. 

“Yes,” you nodded through another giggle. 

“Oh,” He frowned, a little dejected. It wasn’t the answer he was expecting, to him kissing you felt like the most natural thing in the world. “You wanna stop?”

“Fuck no,” you dived back in for his lips, smothering him with a fierce kiss that tore a moan from his throat, the sound sent butterflies straight to your stomach. 

You took your time lazily exploring one another. Your hands tangled in his messy locks, your nails scratching against his scalp only spurred on his intensity. The cushion still wedged between you over his lap was the only thing stopping you from straddling him and grinding against what you knew he was trying to conceal. Not that it mattered anymore, you’d be more disappointed if he wasn’t hard at this point. A loud, guttural whine from the movie tore your attention away from one another and you looked over your shoulder to see the woman now being fucked over a pool table by two guys at once. 

“Can we turn this shit off now?” Eddie asked breathlessly. 

“Yeah,” you agreed, sliding out of his lap.  

Your nerves made your fingers clumsy as they fumbled with the buttons on the VCR until the screen finally went black. You stood and spun on your heel, gasping when you smacked straight into Eddie who’d silently walked up behind you. 

“Sorry,” he laughed softly, his hands tugged you by the elbows as he chased your lips with his again. 

His touch was so gentle it was making you feel light headed. When he stepped forward to close the gap between you his very prominent erection dug into your lower stomach. You whimpered into his mouth and all he could think was how desperate he was to hear you make that sound again. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours, in that same position he walked you backwards down the short hallway to his bedroom. 

When the back of your knees hit the edge of his mattress and you squealed as you tumbled backwards. Eddie was quick to climb over you, his mouth greedily attached to your jaw while he followed you up the length of his bed to lay back against his pillows. He gripped your chin to tilt your head back, lazily sucking a messy trail of soon to be purple bruises down the column of your throat. He rocked his hips into yours and you both gasped at the delicious friction until he could stand it no longer.

“You first okay?” He mumbled against your skin as he sucked one last bruise just below your ear. “This is probably gonna be over pretty quickly for me.” 

His tone implied it was a joke but you could read the insecurity written plain as day across his features, you stroked his face and placed a loving peck to his temple. 

“You know that’s okay right?” You assured him. “It’s actually kinda sexy.” 

He pulled a face that told you he thought you were full of shit. 

“Seriously!” You promised. “Knowing that I made you feel so good that you just couldn’t hold it back any longer? Hotter than most guys think.” 

“If you say so,” he snorted, still convinced you were just trying to make him feel better.

He nudged the hem of your shirt up to pepper kisses across the soft expanse of your stomach, his tongue darting out to swipe at the spot just above the button of your jeans. While his fingers fumbled to remove them you were suddenly overcome with a rush of timidity.

“Can we like, undress together?” You asked, your hands covering his to stall his actions. “At the same time?” 

“Sure,” he nodded, pulling away to lean back on his heels above you. “Yeah, sure.”

His shirt was the first to go. Then yours. Next was his jeans, your mouth went dry as the clinking of his belt buckle rang in your ears. His cock sprang forward as he pushed the denim down over his ass and your eyes widened at the sizable tent in his pale blue boxers, a darker spot on the front visible where they had become wet with his precum. 

“Your turn,” he prompted, snapping you out of your trance.

“Oh, yeah,” you nodded, pushing your own jeans down over your legs. 

Once you had tossed them to the carpet beside you he wasted no time kissing you senseless, his full weight pushing you down into his mattress. The outline of his dick was so much more apparent now that there were only the two thin layers of your underwear separating you. You were a blur of tangled limbs, swallowing one another’s moans. He palmed your breast over the cup of your bra before breaking apart a panting, desperate mess. 

“Can I take this off?” He pleaded, his finger running along the fabric of your strap.

You arched your back and reached behind you to undo the clasp quickly. You ripped it away from your chest and tossed it to the floor to join the rest of your clothes. Eddie stared in awe at your bare chest. He had pictured what you looked like naked countless times but none of his fantasies could compare to the real thing. You were fucking perfect. 

“Eds?” You asked, feeling bashful beneath his intense gaze. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he muttered, eyes still trained on your chest. 

If he was this hypnotised by your tits what would he be like when his face was buried in your pussy. His palms found purchase on either side of your waist, his hands brushing upwards over the delicate skin of your ribs before cupping a breast in each hand. He leaned down for more kisses as he kneaded and pinched at your sensitive nipples. He moaned softly into your mouth, a deep ache settling between your legs at the sound. 

“Eddie… Please,” you whispered, your impatience showing through the roll of your hips.

He grunted at the friction against his leaking cock, his name had never sounded so beautiful leaving your lips. He kissed his way quickly down the valley between your breasts and along your soft stomach before he inched back on the bed, his face now level with your clothed cunt. 

“Oh fuuuck,” he groaned, eyeing up the big wet patch that had soaked through the material of your cotton panties. “Did I make you this wet or were you just really enjoying the film?” 

You leaned up on your elbows and smiled down at him. You couldn’t tell whether he was joking or not but either way he really had no idea the effect he had on you. 

“You,” your heart fluttered at the flash of pride that crossed his face. “All you.” 

He took a minute to run his middle finger up and down the wet patch, your hips shifting of their own accord every time he bumped over your clit. You became impatient and lifted your hips, shuffling in an attempt to rid yourself of your underwear. Eddie, eager to strip you of them himself, hooked his fingers beneath the elastic and tore them the rest of the way down your legs. His cock twitched in his boxers when he caught sight of your bare pussy for the very first time. He gawked at the pretty pink folds, swollen and glistening with your arousal. He was forced to snap himself out of a trance for the second time when he found himself almost drooling. 

“Promise if it’s bad you’ll stop me?” His voice was laced with self doubt, the pads of his fingers tracing anxious patterns across the skin on your thighs. 

“I won’t stop you,” you reached down to stroke under his chin forcing him to look up at you. “I’ll guide you, just do what feels natural.” 

“‘Kay,” he nodded, he tipped his chin to press a thankful peck to the palm of your hand. “Ready?” 

“Mmhmm,” your sigh came out a tremble from the anticipation as you settled back against his pillows. 

He slid his arms, toned from years of lifting heavy band equipment, beneath your thighs so your legs lay over his shoulders. His first taste was experimental, a quick swipe of his tongue across your clit but it made you twitch and whimper still. His eyes fluttered shut as he explored you more insistently, flicking and suckling as his confidence built from your positive reactions. Your fingers wound tightly in his hair when he shook his head back and forth between your legs, the soft curls tickling the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs. He moaned into you as your nails raked across his scalp, the vibrations causing your hips to instinctively buck into his face as you gasped at the unfamiliar but breathtaking sensation. 

“Fuck, holy fuck,” he pulled away panting, his chin shining with your slick. “You taste so fucking good.” 

Eddie couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you had offered this to your past partners on a silver platter and they had all turned you down. Were they insane? On the other hand he also couldn’t believe that he was lucky enough to be the only person in the world who had the privilege of worshipping you this way. 

He pressed his thumb against your clit, first fumbling through a couple of misses until you happily threw your head back against his pillow and whined. He focused on the spot that had drawn that noise from you and rubbed in small fast circles, your hips wiggled against his touch until he replaced his thumb with his lips and sucked hard. He ran his middle and ring fingers along your slit, gathering your wetness before plunging the digits inside you. Despite the welcome stretch you winced a little as he moved them in a harsh jabbing motion. Eddie froze immediately when he noticed your discomfort, his fingers stilling inside of you.

“It’s okay, just do it like this,” you showed him how to curl his fingers and wiggled them in a come hither motion. 

Eddie was a quick learner, once he started moving his fingers the way you had shown him it didn’t take him long at all to find your g-spot. His tongue lapped at your clit as he continued to work his fingers inside of you, your back arched off the bed as you felt the tingling heat of your impending orgasm build faster by the second. Eddie could tell you were close, the way you were needily grinding yourself against his face had him thrusting his own hips against his mattress. If you didn’t get there soon he was probably going to cum in his pants and then he really would want the ground to swallow him up. 

“Eddie,” you whimpered as your grip on his locks tightened painfully but he didn’t care, as far as Eddie was concerned he was in heaven. “Eddie, feels so good.”

He growled into your pussy as you chanted his name and it was one of the hottest fucking sounds you had ever heard in your life. A few more flicks of his tongue and a stroke against your spot and the dam was breaking. You cried out as your hips writhed against his face, Eddie tightened the grip he had on one of your thighs to hold you in place. His strokes didn’t let up until you were a trembling, mewling mess, weakly pulling at his hair as the overstimulation became too much.

“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie…” You still whimpered his name.

His swollen lips released you with a pop and he gazed up at you with his big, glassy, lust blown eyes. A proud smirk pulled at his lips while his fingers still moved inside of you lazily. He grinned when he pulled them out of you and examined the slick coating the digits. 

“Was I okay?” He asked you with a cheeky grin, his earlier doubt well and truly washed away.

He knew he had done a good job. He felt the intensity at which you clenched around his fingers when you came. 

“Very, very, very much okay,” you laughed breathlessly. “More than okay Eds. You’re fucking amazing.”

He laughed with you, a slight blush tinting his cheeks at your praise. He shifted to his knees and groaned at the ache in his cock, the tiny movement alone almost pushing him to the edge. Fuck he thought. Your eyes widened as you clocked the precum stain on his boxers, it had almost tripled in size since before he went down on you. You rose to your knees and crawled towards him. Your mouth crashed to his in a searing kiss, your tongue gliding against his as you tasted yourself for the first time. Reaching down ever so lightly you ran your fingers up his cock from base to tip. His hips bucked forward while he whined into your mouth.  

“Fuck, fuck don’t do that,” he panted. “Sorry, I’m so close already and you haven’t even touched me.”

The desperation in his voice was making your insides melt. You gave him a quick peck on the tip of his nose and encouraged him to lie back in your previous position against the pillows. You swiftly pulled his boxers down over his hips and watched his cock spring free to slap and bob against his stomach. Holy. Fucking. Shit. You couldn’t help the way your jaw hung open as you stared at his full length. You had thought it was funny the way he had been staring at you earlier but you were certainly mimicking his expression right now. You would never have described a dick as pretty before but christ, Eddie was fucking beautiful. 

You had an idea that he was of a generous size when he was grinding against you earlier but actually seeing him was a whole other thing. You shouldn’t have been surprised, everything else about Eddie was so goddamn perfect why wouldn’t his dick be too. The shaft was long and velvety, a few delicate veins showed faintly beneath the skin. The bulb of his sticky, red tip was blotted with precum, leaking just below his navel. Eddie was getting more nervous the longer you didn’t speak. He hugged his arms to himself, fighting the urge to cover himself and prayed for you to just make a move, any move. 

“What?” He muttered hesitantly. “It’s not like, weird or anything is it?” 

His voice brought you back to reality and you looked up at his blotchy cheeks. His wide brown orbs were swimming with worry and you were overcome with the need to kiss it all away. You launched forward and attacked his lips with your own, swallowing his gasp of surprise. 

“No,” you said in between kisses. “Not weird - just so - fucking pretty.” 

You felt the stiff press of his erection as you continued to make out with him, the leaking tip smearing wet streaks of arousal across your skin as he bucked impatiently against your ass.  

“Please - sweetheart,” he croaked against your lips. “Begging you.” 

You showed him mercy and pulled away from his lips, open mouthed kisses now trailing down his chest and abdomen until you reached his painfully swollen cock. You decided not to tease him any longer, you didn’t think he’d be able to take it. 

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Eddie cried, the palms digging into his eye sockets as you wrapped your lips around the tip of his dick, your hand jerking the silky smooth base. “Fu- baby, feels so goo- gonna make me cum so fast...”

The way he was choking on his words was adorable. You relaxed your throat as best as you could and bobbed your head within a centimetre of your gag reflex. Up and down, up and down your lips became a mess of his precum and your spit, you braced yourself as his hips jarred upward to drive himself deeper into your mouth. You felt his thighs trembling beneath where your forearms were resting, he was so close you could tell. Cupping his sack gently with your free hand, you took him to the back of your throat with a quiet gag. 

Eddie’s orgasm rushed over him so violently he didn’t have a chance to pull you away or even warn you it was approaching. You choked a little as thick, hot spurts of his cum painted the back of your throat. Trying your best to compose yourself, you swallowed every drop of him that roped across your tongue. Eddie whimpered incoherently while he combed his fingers through your hair, his hips still rocking as he humped your face through his release. 

You breathed steadily through your nose as you focused on taking him all down. He shuddered as you gave him a squeeze and lapped up the remainder of his seed before you released him with a pop, the back of your hand wiping the drool from the corners of your lips. His feeling of bliss quickly turned to humiliation when it dawned on him that all of that can’t have lasted more than two minutes. Hell, it was probably no longer than sixty seconds. He threw his arms across his eyes, hiding away from you, terrified of looking down and seeing the disappointment on your face.  

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled into his forearms. “Fuck - I couldn’t stop it, you just felt so fucking good.”

Oh Eddie. Sweet, sweet Eddie. 

“It’s okay, hey it’s okay,” you whispered against his skin as you kissed your way up his body. 

You peppered your lips over every inch of his forearms in an attempt to coax them away from his face. When that wasn’t working you slipped your hands into his own and yanked them away, your forehead falling forward to press against his. 

“It’s okay,” you assured him again.

He leaned into your touch, his fingers intertwining with your own. 

“Thank you,” he simply said. “Not just for trying to make me feel better but for even agreeing to this in the first place.” 

“Eddie, do you seriously think I wouldn’t want this?” 

His brows knit together with an anxious look that said yes, he absolutely did think there was a world where you’d say no to this. 

“Well, put it this way,” you placed his hands on your hips and reached yours up to cup his face. “If you wanted to give me your virginity, you know fully, I’d be more than honoured to take it.” 

“Are you serious?” He chuckled breathlessly in joyful disbelief when you nodded with a grin. “When?” 

“Whenever you want,” you laughed at his adorable eagerness. “I know you already have condoms in that drawer.” 

“Oh so you do snoop,” he accused playfully, tightening his grip on your hips to flip your positions and pin you beneath him again. 

“Sometimes,” you admitted sheepishly. 

“Hmmm,” he hummed as he started to mouth at your neck, his hips slowly starting to rock against your heat once again. “Just give me a few minutes and we’ll be good to go.” 

Eddie wasn’t joking, it took him less than five minutes to get fully hard again. Even if he wasn’t trying it would have been difficult not to when he was completely losing himself in you. He lay between your open legs as you engaged in a series of heated and needy kisses. Lips desperate to touch every inch of skin they could reach. Your hips ground into each other in sync, simultaneously craving the feeling of him finally being inside of you more and more with every passing second. 

“Eddie,” you whined breathlessly. “Condom.”

“Uh yeah, yeah,” he muttered between kisses, his shaky breaths fanning hot across your face. 

He blindly reached for the handle of the drawer closest to his bed, not willing to tear his lips away from yours to search properly. When he felt the knob he gripped it and yanked it open with so much enthusiasm the entire drawer dislodged from the dresser, it clattered to his floor with an echoing thunk. After a second when the initial shock had passed you erupted into a burst of laughter, Eddie’s eyes growing wide, obviously surprised by his own strength. 

“Jeez Eds,” you poked at his ribs gently, still giggling. “That eager?” 

“What do you think?” He teased back, rolling his hips hard into yours so his naked cock glided along your glistening folds. 

You gasped in shock at the confident move. While you thought the nervous, fumbling Eddie was the cutest fucking thing in the whole entire world, this new found assertiveness suited him more. You would take anything he was willing to give you but you prayed he wouldn’t see this as a one time thing, you’d love to experience what he’d be like in bed after you’d helped crush all of his self doubt. He reluctantly pulled away from you to rummage on the ground for the box of condoms. He returned to you with a triumphant look when he finally found them under the mess of socks and boxers he kept in that drawer. 

“So when did you get these exactly?” You asked out of curiosity. 

“I didn’t, Wayne got them for me years ago when he attempted to give me ‘the talk’” Eddie laughed at the memory, while he found the situation amusing it was probably the most uncomfortable poor Wayne had been in his entire life. “Said as much as he loves me he wasn’t raising another kid that ain’t his.” 

“Are they still good to use?” You checked, you might just cry out of frustration if you’d gotten to this point and you couldn’t have sex with him. 

“Wh- you mean like, condoms expire?” Eddie’s face dropped so quickly it was almost comical. 

“Yes,” you exhaled, trying to hide your slight impatience as he scanned the box for the expiration date. 

You stared at his disheartened expression, his brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. You didn’t even realise you’d been holding your breath until you saw the excitement rush back onto his face. 

“We’re good to go,” he grinned. 

You bit your lip as you watched him tear open the box. His fingers trembled slightly as he fumbled with the little foil packaging and for what must have been the hundredth time that night your heart melted. He ripped one of the squares open with his teeth and rolled the condom down his length, giving himself a few strokes for good measure. A deep ache settled between your legs as you watched him shudder under his own touch, still sensitive from his previous orgasm. 

You reached out to him, tugging on his arm until he fell forward on top of you. You squealed and laughed beneath him as he crushed you with his weight, his hand gripping your chin as he attacked your face with tiny kisses. You pushed at his ribs gently until you had flipped him onto his back. Straddling him you captured his lips, he immediately deepened the kiss, tongue tangling with yours. You rolled your hips in a steady rhythm, your wetness gliding along his cock. He grunted softly into your mouth and you were overcome with the carnal need to have him inside of you. 

“Eddie,” you rasped against his lips. “I need you, I fucking need you.” 

“Fuck, okay” he muttered more to mentally prepare himself than to you. 

“Ready?” You whispered breathlessly as you held the base of his cock and lined him up with your entrance. 

He nodded his head avidly and you sank down his length, just the tip at first but Eddie’s jaw still dropped wide open. He stopped breathing as he watched himself disappear inch by inch until he bottomed out, he threw his head back into the pillow and whined at the feeling of being engulfed by your warm, wet heat. Eddie was bigger than you were used to but the stretch was divine, you braced your hands on his chest and stayed still for just a moment as you let your body adjust to him. 

“You okay?” You asked brokenly, you reached up to stroke the side of his face where his head was still thrown back, your thumb grazing back and forth over the apple of his cheek. 

“Mmmhmmm,” he hummed, his head tipping forward to lean into your touch, fighting to gain an ounce of self control. 

You rocked your hips experimentally, both of you gasping at the sensation, he felt so, so deep. You linked your hands with his, your fingers intertwined and set a steady pace but Eddie was struggling, he thought he would do better this time round since he had cum no more than 15 minutes ago but this position was proving to be too much for him. You looked like a fucking goddess above him as you rode his dick, your tits bouncing in his face with each thrust of your hips, tiny soft moans catching in your throat each time his tip brushed against your g-spot. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to not blow his load so fast but he was fast approaching the precipice, the blow job you had given him was amazing but it was nothing compared to your pussy. This was like nothing else he had ever felt in his life. He felt the familiar heat beginning to build and his hands suddenly flew to your hips, his fingers gripping like a vice to halt your movements. 

“Stop, stop, stop,” he whimpered, his eyes now wide with desperation. 

“What’s wrong? What happened?” You stopped bouncing your hips in panic, worried that you had inadvertently done something to hurt him. 

“Can we swap?” He pleaded. “Please, I gotta set my own pace or I’m gonna cum right now.” 

You were about to tell him that it was okay but you knew he wouldn’t accept it after the shame exhibited after your blow job. This was all about him and you wanted to give him whatever he needed. So instead you just nodded, leaning over him to place a kiss against his swollen lips as he slipped out of you. 

You took his place on the mattress while he settled between your open legs. You shrieked out in surprise when he scooted back and you felt his lips attach themselves to your clit again, his fingers sinking inside you with a new self assuredness in the way that you had shown him you liked. He wanted you to cum again before he did and he suspected he wouldn’t get you there using his cock before he exploded. 

“Fuuuuuuuck,” you sighed as you raked your fingers through his chestnut curls. 

His fingers didn’t fill you quite as satisfyingly as his cock had been doing but he was stroking you in all the right places, you really were impressed by how quickly he’d perfected it. 

“Eddie, ohhhhh Eddie,” you arched your hips into his face and he moaned into you, the vibrations making you squirm in his hold.

“Jeeesus Christ I can feel you,” he choked, his lips temporarily leaving your clit while he picked up the pace of his fingers. “Can feel you squeezing my fingers so tight.” 

The thickness of his digits dragging in and out of you had your thighs trembling around his head, you looked down at him to find his hooded gaze already staring up at you. He smiled when your eyes locked, his lips and chin slick with your arousal. 

“C’mon baby,” he whispered before lowering back down to lap at your clit, his wrist twisting as he doubled his efforts with his fingers. 

“Ohhhhh my god,” you clenched down on him as you felt the coil tightening in your belly, you couldn’t take it any longer. 

Your back arched as you saw stars, pushing his fingers even deeper into you. You tugged his hair harshly as you fell apart, your body curled in on itself as your legs clamped down around his head. Eddie kept moaning through your orgasm, his fingers slowing their pace a tiny bit at a time until you were whimpering and tapping at the now tangled curls you had knotted. He chuckled into your skin as he pulled away to press kisses up your thighs, across your hip bones, across your tummy. Eventually he made his way back up to your lips, you tasted yourself for the second time that night as he licked into your mouth. 

“You make the cutest little noises when you cum for me,” he sighed between kisses. “I can’t get enough of you.” 

His words gave you violent butterflies and you grinned against his lips. He kneaded the doughy flesh of your still quivering thighs before he bent your knees to wrap your legs securely around his waist. He gripped his painfully hard cock and dragged the tip up and down your soaked folds, shivering every time he nudged your sensitive clit. 

“Do you need a minute?” He asked, his urgency showing through the waver in his voice. 

“No,” you shook your head. “Please, please, please I need you inside me, please.” 

He kissed you again soft and sweet as he effortlessly filled you up. Both of your eyes grew wide, mouths dropping open in a silent “oh” as he buried himself to the hilt. His unsteady breaths fanned out across your face as he gave an experimental thrust of his hips. He fell forward onto his forearms, one resting by the side of your head where his fingers combed through your hair whilst the other fisted his bed sheets tightly  in his grip.

“Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” Eddie mumbled against your temple, his hips finding a steady rhythm as he thrusted into your heat. 

He pressed more tender kisses to your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, the corners of your mouth, the occasional whimper slipping from his lips as his speed started to rapidly increase.

“Fuck, hmmmm,” he breathed so quietly. “Ohhhh fu-ck.“ 

His face was fucking angelic. A light blush spread across his cheeks, his pupils were blown wide with lust before he squeezed his glassy eyes shut and jaw hung slack in bliss. He was so beautiful. 

‘How could no one else want him like this?’ You thought. ‘I’m so fucking lucky.’ 

You could tell he was getting close from the way his hips started to falter, his face was now buried in your neck as he rutted desperately into your pussy. His lips skimmed across your neck and down across your skin before he suddenly sank his teeth into your shoulder. 

“Ah! Did you just bite me?” You gasped at the sudden sting. 

“Sorry,” he panted, a hint of guilt in his voice. “Got a little carried away.” 

“No, no, I liked it,” you assured him. “Mark me.” 

Eddie grunted into your flesh as he bit down on you once more, your request making his cock twitch inside your walls. 

“You want me to mark you?” He panted. “Show everyone your mine?” 

“I’m yours,” you whined, your arms winding around him to rake your nails down his back, delighted when you felt the goosebumps under your touch. “I’m yours.” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum,” he grunted, his hips fucked into you at a near brutal pace, you grabbed the meat of his ass in both your palms to pull him as close to you as physically possible.

For the first time in your life you wished you were on the pill, you were aching to feel his hot seed spilling into you, you wanted to feel every single part of him. 

“Eddie, baby,” you purred into his ear. “I gotta feel you, please ohhh-“

“M’gonna cum- uhhh,” Eddie’s entire body went rigid against yours as he came undone in your arms, his face tucked tightly into the crook of your neck as you pressed kisses against the crown of his head while he released into the condom. “Oh fuck, baby, baby, baby…” 

Your nose nudged softly at the side of his face and your fingers drew invisible shapes across his wide shoulder blades. Minutes passed before either of you had the energy to move. He slipped himself out of you with a wince before unhiding his face and rested his chin on your chest. His hooded eyes gazed up at you, a lazy grin spread across his blissful features. 

“Hi,” he breathed, his head spinning from the happiness coursing through his veins. 

“Hey,” you giggled, booping him on the nose with your pinky finger. 

He took your hand and placed it over his racing heart. You giggled and leaned up to place a kiss on his lips. This one was different, hot and desperate had turned to loving and tender. 

“Wow,” you sighed as he touched his forehead to yours. 

“Wow,” he agreed, unable to keep the smile off his face. 

He promised he’d be right back as he excused himself to the bathroom. He disposed of the condom and ran to the kitchen to get you a glass of water. Pulling on a fresh pair of boxer shorts he snagged your panties up from where they had been tossed on the carpet and handed them over to you. He pulled back his duvet and climbed into bed, one arm stretched wide open for you to snuggle into his side. He pulled you close to him, his hand cupping your chin as he brushed his thumb softly across your cheekbone. If anyone could see you now they’d probably throw up from how sickeningly in love you both looked. 

“I’m so glad it was you,” he mumbled as he pressed his lips to your forehead, his voice so quiet you almost missed it. 

“I’m glad it was me too,” your heart soared as you beamed up at him, you had no regrets regarding your past relationships but a small part of you wished he had been your first too. 

“Did you mean it? When you said you were mine?” He asked, praying you weren’t just saying it in the heat of the moment. 

“I’ve always been yours,” you confessed. 

“Fuck, you mean we coulda been doing that for years?” 

“Oh don’t worry,” you smirked. “We’re definitely gonna make up for lost time.” 

“If I knew you finding my crappy porno collection would lead to this I’d have left it out in plain sight a long time ago.” 

You laughed and hid your face in his chest. “Well maybe I’ll forget to call at Family Video more often too.”

“Aha!” He wrapped his arms fully around you so you couldn’t move and crushed you to him. “So you admit it was your fault.” 

“I didn’t mean that!” You argued, trying to wriggle free of his vice-like grip but it was no use, he was holding you too tight. 

“Too late, you said it,” he laughed, pinching your sides and kissing the top of your head. 

You accepted defeat, laughing and making out until you settled into a comfortable silence, the soft rise and fall of his chest and his steady heartbeat lulling you to sleep. 

…

The first thing Wayne did when he got home from work in the early hours of the morning was kick back in his armchair with a steaming cup of coffee and turn on the news. He shrugged off his overalls and made his coffee while he tidied the kitchen, the pizza box from last night still leftover on the counter. He knew Eddie had friends over for movie night on Fridays but he usually did a better job of tidying up after himself. It wasn’t a big deal, the trailer wasn’t much more messy than it usually was. He placed his mug down on his favourite coaster and picked up the remote from where it was flung on the coffee table. 

You had started to stir when you heard the sound of the coffee pot boiling in the kitchen,  the noise drifting down the hall and through Eddie’s bedroom door which was left slightly ajar the night before. You groaned at the sunlight streaming through the cracks in his blinds, you hadn’t meant to stay the whole night but you’d done a pretty good job at tiring each other out. Leaning over the side of the bed you snatched up one of Eddie’s discarded shirts from the floor and shrugged it on just in case Wayne came in to check on him. You had slept here before so your presence wouldn’t be much of a shock but you couldn’t say the same about accidentally flashing him. 

“Eddie,” you whispered, shaking his shoulder in an attempt to rouse him where he snored softly next to you. “Eddie, I think Wayne’s home.” 

Eddie’s eyes fluttered open sleepily and you couldn’t help but smile at how precious he looked, you brushed back the stray locks that had fallen in his face while he slept. 

“Morning sweetheart,” he whispered too, grabbing your hand to kiss each of your fingers individually before pulling you close to his chest again. 

You shared a couple of sweet lazy kisses but were harshly ripped from your bubble by the sounds of obnoxious moans coming from the living room. 

“What the-?” You heard Wayne cry out as you both scrambled into a sitting position. “Eddie!”

"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.

"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics. 

"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways. 

"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."

"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."

"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something." 

Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order. 

Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret. 

"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."

"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on. 

If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that. 

He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."

"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were. 

Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers. 

But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar. 

Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well. 

"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."

"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."

"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'

"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"

"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig. 

"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."

"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."

"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."

"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him. 

He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface. 

"What's your drink?" he asks.

"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer. 

"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him. 

You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.

"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."

"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.

"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."

"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."

He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.

As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."

You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."

Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. 

"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that." 

Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull. 

"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"

"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."

"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt. 

"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards. 

You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night. 

You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot. 

"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."

"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."

"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."

"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive. 

"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot. 

"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."

"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something." 

With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road. 

Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt. 

You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong. 

Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk. 

It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one. 

You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood. 

Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper. 

Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful. 

You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door. 

"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?" 

"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks. 

"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go." 

You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step. 

"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."

"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking. 

"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live." 

He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."

"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies. 

"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.

"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?" 

He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. 

The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat. 

"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.

"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here." 

"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.

"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."

"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."

"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.

"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."

You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.

"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights. 

"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.

"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."

"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."

"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought. 

You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?" 

"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar. 

You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."

"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward. 

"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."

"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on. 

You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."

He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped. 

The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close. 

After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy. 

"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat. 

You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.

"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.” 

He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside. 

Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now. 

Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane. 

He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.

"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.

"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."

"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"

He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this. 

"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.

"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.

"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond. 

"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. 

This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say. 

Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well. 

It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile. 

"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago. 

"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips. 

It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window. 

After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form. 

When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much. 

He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?

In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue. 

So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.  

“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”

“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.

“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”

“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner. 

You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise. 

He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be. 

“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.” 

With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath. 

It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch. 

He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief. 

His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow. 

“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.

Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind. 

He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there. 

“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.

He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing. 

Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights. 

The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.

Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow. 

“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.” 

He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel. 

Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale. 

“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”

After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave. 

“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request. 

Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?

Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut. 

You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes. 

“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”

And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did. 

Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it. 

After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off. 

Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 

“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.

You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”

“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”

“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.

“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.” 

“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.  

You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances. 

“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over. 

“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”

There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were. 

“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…” 

He understood, he hated how much he understood. 

“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him. 

“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”

“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”

“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”

“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”

“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’

He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run. 

You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat. 

“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive. 

He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt. 

A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails. 

The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers. 

You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed. 

You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point. 

He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction. 

“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”

“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale. 

“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.

“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.

“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”

You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot. 

“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice. 

“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”

He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip. 

He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.

He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction. 

When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?” 

A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill. 

The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away. 

“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“

He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands. 

“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.

“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth. 

“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”

With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom. 

“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”

“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”

You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on. 

“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.

“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself. 

You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark. 

He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked. 

“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you. 

“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious. 

“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present. 

“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed. 

“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”

You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream. 

“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”

You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go. 

You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around. 

“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”

It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin. 

“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”

“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“

“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”

You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.

He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways? 

As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away. 

“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back. 

He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel. 

“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging. 

You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.” 

As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.” 

His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.

Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most. 

Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs. 

He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way. 

“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you. 

When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.

You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”

He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and  plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time. 

“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?” 

The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.

“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him. 

“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand. 

He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary. 

As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else. 

Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”

Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes. 

He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch. 

He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”

Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top? 

“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips. 

“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“

“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”

Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching. 

It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name  mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment. 

“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”

Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point. 

Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.

The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end. 

The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold. 

His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean. 

“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”

You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two. 

You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his. 

He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could. 

“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”

“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”

Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen. 

After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong. 

“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep. 

An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you. 

You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months. 

A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control. 

“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed. 

A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze. 

You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue. 

You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true. 

Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.

“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”

His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. 

“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment. 

“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”

“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”

“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”

“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”

“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”

“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.

“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.

“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall. 

“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl. 

“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”

“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”

“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”

“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time. 

“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over. 

“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was. 

“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”

“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.

“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”

Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear. 

“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”

“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”

His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.” 

“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this. 

“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.” 

The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.

Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips. 

“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.

“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”

“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”

“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”

“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”

“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself  on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”

“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”

He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you. 

Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom. 

As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips. 

“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.

“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom. 

“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets. 

“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”

“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you. 

“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”

As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed. 

He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away. 

You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself. 

After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.

“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.

“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect. 

“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.

“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”

“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck. 

“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.” 

“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body. 

“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.

You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long. 

“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.

“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs. 

You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.

A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”

You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”

He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up. 

You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.

You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.

He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.

You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. 

“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.” 

His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away. 

“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.” 

You nod with a “Please.”

“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”

He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.

“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”

With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit. 

He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred. 

“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.” 

You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask. 

You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest. 

The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.

You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip. 

“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle. 

“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?” 

The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other. 

“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”

He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you. 

Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning. 

“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”

Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone. 

“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest. 

He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit. 

“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.

“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”

You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand. 

“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”

He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. 

“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment. 

You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare. 

You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening. 

Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.

“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”

He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more. 

He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more. 

Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time. 

He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go. 

You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you. 

“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time. 

He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”

“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state. 

You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you. 

“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you. 

“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could. 

Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all. 

His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more. 

“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.

He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.

“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now. 

He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him. 

Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter. 

Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue. 

You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”

Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.

Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you. 

Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you. 

“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts. 

“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”

“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future. 

“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”

Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page. 

Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock. 

“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips. 

“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”

He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit. 

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“

He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake. 

“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t  have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his. 

“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”

You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours. 

“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses. 

“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.” 

Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.

He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center. 

He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.

Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you. 

More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”

How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name. 

“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”

“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.

“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“

“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release. 

Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements. 

“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm. 

It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name. 

It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.

“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van. 

You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets. 

He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.

“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”

He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss. 

“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”

“Special enough for a fourth date?”

You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”

Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all. 

“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice. 

“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come. 

The thought hadn't even crossed your mind. The noise is a cacophony of buzzing, rock music and loud conversation. Art hangs on every available wall, the wallpaper underneath a royal purple, faded over time. There's frames upon frames of predesigned pieces for people to choose from, and an enormous wooden counter, black and gouged with use, directly in front of the doors. 

Taking a confidence boosting breath you march forward, pencil skirt stretching and heels clicking on the black and white linoleum, and stand by the counter. No one seems to have noticed your arrival, and a polite cough is not going to cut it. 

“Hello?” Calling out to the shop, a devilishly handsome tattooed man in a ripped band shirt, black jeans and scuffed army boots turns his head. Loose dark curls escape a low bun and swivel with him, framing his animated face. He saunters over to the counter and towers over you, giving you an appraising look. 

“You old enough to be in here sweetheart?” He asks, amused, as he points to the sign on the wall that states ‘Strictly Over 21s, no exceptions’. 

“Yes?” You're trying to be confident but it comes out as a question, entirely taken aback by the strength of his stare. 

“Oh, well then I'm Eddie,” he holds out a hand and you're forced to reach up to shake it, but to your surprise he doesn't let go. The skin is rougher than you thought it would be, and absolutely covered in small tattoos. “What is it today? Let me guess, cover up an ex boyfriend's name? I can help you forget all about him.” 

The grin he shoots back is nothing short of predatory. All you can think of is that old childhood song, never smile at a crocodile…

“No, no, I'm here about the job?” 

He looks genuinely surprised, taking in your outfit in another flagrant stare. 

“Really? You?” 

“Yes, me.” You respond, cheeks flushing in annoyance. 

“Hey, Mac!” He calls over his shoulder and a big guy with a shaved head lowers his tattoo gun, glancing over at you both. “This girl's after a job?” 

Mac stands up slowly and begins to walk over. 

“You can let go now princess.” 

Staring at Eddie dumbfoundedly, you realise his grip on your hand has softened completely. Whipping your hand away, you flash him a defiant eye. It's ineffective; he merely grins wider and winks at you, poking his tongue out playfully. You see a hint of silver, a tongue piercing. 

“Hey there, I'm Mac, the owner.” another handshake, but gentler and brief. You introduce yourself and go to hand him your resume. 

A phone rings on the counter and Mac shouts “no!” just as Eddie picks it up. 

“Mac’s Roadkill Café, from your grill to ours.” Eddie delivers the line as smooth as silk, never taking his eyes off you. “Yeah, it's Eddie, of course. Oh, I'll tell him. Thanks.” 

As Eddie turns to Mac he's given a small but effective slap to the back of the head by Mac. 

“What did I tell you, stop answering like that!” 

Eddie just grins wider and looks at you again, a fake pout on his full lips. 

“You see that? Harassment in the workplace. Wanna kiss it better?” 

Mac shuts his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, then turns to face you again. 

“Are you immediate start?” 

“Er, yeah. I've got my resume, and references here-” 

“Listen Miss, if you can read and write, answer a phone, and put up with that-” he says, gesturing a thumb at Eddie, “then you've got the job.” 

Thank God, two of those references were your best friend with different names. Stunned, you just nod fast.

“Great. Tomorrow morning. We open at 10am.” 

Saying goodbye, you turn to exit, and risk one final glance over your shoulder. Eddie's still at the counter. A disarming wink, and then the door shuts behind you. 

********************

So, not exactly what you expected, but a job's a job. After getting a degree, you'd assumed doors would open, but a string of coffee houses later and here you are. You'll take it. 

It's 9:30 am, and you stand outside, wondering whether or not to try the door. Keen, but not too keen. It's a line you're trying to toe without much experience, especially with an establishment like this. 

A pretty woman with an undercut and a butterfly neck tattoo stirs you out of your calculations. 

“Hey, I'm Chloe. You're the new girl, right? Eddie bet you'd be early.” 

Blushing at the entirely accurate first impression, you try to stop your nose scrunching in distaste. As if reading your mind, Chloe chuckles.

“Ah, don't worry about him, he's an idiot. Come on, I'll show you the ropes.” 

Chloe is the piercer that basically rents a place in the shop, where she's been for around three years, she explains. There's also Julio, who does more realistic tattoo work, and Miranda who works part time. 

Chloe turns out to be warm and welcoming, showing you how they book clients in, how to take payments, and the phone note system. It's straightforward work, stuff you'll master in no time. In fact, you feel comfortable enough by 10 am to sit at the counter on your own.

Mac arrives on time, giving you a quick check in and taking down all your information on a yellow legal pad. 

“Do you not have a computer in here?” you ask, genuinely puzzled. 

“Oh no, not yet. I don't know how to work those things, Miss.” Mac chuckles, and gets to his station to prepare for his first client.

At 10:45 am Eddie walks through the door as if he owns the place. 

Your eyes widen at his brazen lateness, but no one seems to bat an eyelid. It boils your blood; to be that disrespectful and clearly not care. How could someone act like that? 

“Hey princess, didn't think you'd come back,” he smiles, reaching for your hand. 

Oh I'm not falling for that again. 

You pull your hand into your lap, expecting trickery from him. A smug grin smears across his face at the gesture, as if he knew you'd do that. It makes you even more annoyed. 

“Eddie, the book says you start,” you say, flicking through the tome in front of you, “ah, at 10 am today.” 

“It's walk-in Wednesday sweetheart. There's no one here.” 

He's got a point. Chloe had explained the tattoo artists work a shift of Wednesdays, someone is always available for walk-ins for small and pre designed pieces. Today is Eddie's turn, and he's right, no one is here. 

“Well, there could have been,” you snark back, folding your arms. 

He crosses into the shop, pushing the little gate open and stands next to you, arms crossed. The height you had is now lost, forcing you to look up at him. 

“As far as I know, you ain't the boss of me. I suggest taking the stick out of your ass before you come here.” 

Mouth falling open in outrage, you move to reply but he's already turned away. 

“Oh, and princess, there ain't a dress code.” 

He's gone, disappearing upstairs. Blushing crimson, you cross your arms as if you can hide the conservative outfit you're wearing. 

You're beginning to see why Mac asked if you could put up with Eddie. 

********************

Halfway through the day, you realise just why Mac puts up with Eddie. 

“Hey! Seeing if I can book with Eddie?” 

“Any appointments with Eddie?” 

“Just checking to see if Eddie had any cancellations?” 

It seems most calls are about him. As you check his schedule, it's not only fully booked for the next 6 months, they've even started a waiting list at the back. 

“Any walk-ins?”

The words next to your ear make you jump bodily, almost losing your place on your chair in alarm. 

“You scared me! No, I would have said,” turning to him, you're sucked into those deep brown eyes once again. “Why do you do walk-in Wednesdays if you're so… so popular?” 

Eddie flashes a smile at you, full of self importance. “I don't know sweetheart, Van Gogh wasn't made to doodle!” Shouting the last part at the back of Mac's head, he turns to you. “We just divided the shifts, so it was fair, that's all. Why, want a tattoo?” 

You roll your eyes. “No, I was just wondering.”

“Do you have any, princess?” 

“Not that it's any of your business, but no, I don't.” 

The laugh that rips from Eddie's chest is hearty and full of amusement. 

“You work in a tattoo shop and you don't have any? That's practically blasphemy!” 

The little bell above the door rings, and a nervous guy looks around before walking in. Before you see what he wants, you shout to Eddie's retreating back. 

“Van Gogh was only famous after he died, you know!” 

It's a little later on in the day; you've done a stock take, ordered more ink, and neatened up the consent sheets three times. The phone hasn't rung in a while, and you're bored out of your mind. 

Chloe walks over, coat in her hand. 

“Hey, how you getting on?” 

“I'm good, just bored.” 

She laughs, “it's not always this quiet, mid week and all. Mac's done for the day, and I'm heading off. You gonna be OK?” 

You glance over to Eddie, who to your surprise is tattooing his own fingers. 

“What, with the untrained monkey? I'll live.” 

She laughs harder at that, “he's not so bad, once you get to know him.” Lowering her voice, she whispers, “he's good at some things, you know.” The conspiratorial wink fills in what she isn't saying. Cheeks flushed, you gawp at Eddie and back at Chloe. 

“Huh? W-what, are you like, an item?” You ask, entirely thrown. 

“Oh no, he's not exactly boyfriend material. It was just one night, but bloody hell. Anyway, it's not like that anymore, we're just friends now. Maybe you two should just, you know.” 

A blush floods your face, almost reaching the roots of your hair. “I don't- I don't, do that.” 

“I'm just saying, it's an option. It'd stop the bickering at least. I can sense the tension from all the way over there.” 

Without a further word, she leaves you sitting on your stool, trying to remember how to breathe. 

Right, let's just play nice. 

Walking over to his station, you try to glimpse what he's tattooing. 

“I thought Van Gogh wasn't made to doodle” you quip, trying to keep it light. 

“This is different” he responds, not looking up at you.

“You know, that's a waste of a needle.” 

Eddie turns the machine off and rolls his eyes at you. 

“Who made you Princess of the Needles, hmmm?” 

“Mac did actually, when he asked me to check the stock,” you reply hotly, folding your arms. Stopping for a second, you take a breath. Play nice, you're supposed to be playing nice. 

“Sorry, I didn't mean to-” 

Eddie turns the machine back on and continues with his impromptu tattoo. 

“Can't you just be… professional?” You ask over the buzzing. 

“Can't you just relax for a second? No ones here. Fuck, you need to get laid.” 

Mouth dropping open in shock, you grab your bag and stomp out of the store, anger fuelling every step. 

********************

Right, be calm, put together. You've dealt with worse people. 

It's true. At the coffee shop you had on edge caffeine addicts shout in your face almost on a daily basis, but none of them got under your skin like Eddie did. Then again, none of them had spat truths like venom in your face.

Breathe. Just breathe. 

Taking the leap, you walk into the shop, coffees and a tray of donuts in hand; a small peace offering. To your surprise, he is already at his station, sorting through ink pots. 

You make quick work of handing out coffee and donuts to everyone, until you reach his side. There's plastic wrap around one of his fingers, you assume from his little tattoo session yesterday. It only serves to remind you of how tetchy you were. 

“Morning Eddie.” 

“So you came back. Tough little princess ain't ya? Remove the stick from your ass yet?” The grin he flashes you is wide but there's a bite to his words. 

He's trying to rile you up, but you ignore it, thrusting a coffee at him. 

“I'll be nice if you will.” 

Tension laces the air as he stares at your outstretched hand, but he takes the coffee. 

“I'm sorry Eddie.” 

Opening the box of donuts, you gesture for him to take one. He does, stuffing half of it into his mouth. 

“What about you?” you ask.

“Huh?” He mumbles through a mouthful of crumbs. 

“Are you sorry…?” 

“What for?” 

Setting your jaw, your hand is about two seconds from slapping the shit out of him, but you need the money. So, you huff and walk away. 

“What did I do?” He huffs, shouting it to the shop. 

“You should just say sorry, you've clearly upset her.” Chloe calls over to him, a slight smile on her face. 

“Yeah, how do you know?” 

“You upset everyone Eddie.” She laughs, and stands to greet her first client. 

It's a tense kind of day, with neither you nor Eddie backing down, only speaking to each other if absolutely necessary. By the time everyone's left it's just you and him again. 

He's finishing up with a client, telling them about aftercare as they gush about their new ink. It's difficult to deny, the guy is talented. This phoenix tattoo looks like it's popping right off of the skin, the flames so bright and detailed you could swear you saw them move. 

Once they've left, there's an awkward pause. Eddie breaks the silence first. 

“Listen, I'm sorry sweetheart. I shouldn't have been rude to you. So I'll make you a deal. I'll give you a tattoo, for free, and we ask each other questions, get to know each other. What do you say?” 

Smiling in spite of yourself, you turn to face him. “And why would I want a tattoo?” 

He visibly relaxes at your grin, and flashes one of his own. “Come on, I'm the best. I promise I'll be gentle.” 

“We close at six, so it'll have to wait.” 

Eddie looks at the clock, and bobs his head with each tick. Twenty seconds later he turns to you, eyebrows raised.

“Fine, I suppose it is a bit silly to work in a tattoo shop with no ink.” 

He punches the air with glee, forcing you to smile despite your better judgement. 

“Well then, what are you thinking, got any ideas in mind?” 

“I want a heart on my hip” he groans, putting his face in his hands, “hang on, before you judge, I want one like this.” 

Pulling a book from your bag, you turn to the page neatly bookmarked. It's an anatomical heart from a textbook you own, a line and dot drawing.

“Oh.” Eddie's eyes light up, “that's pretty metal, actually. So, you just happen to have this on you?” 

“No, I've been thinking about it for a while. It's… not what people would expect. And when I got the job here, I was working up the courage to get it. Carrying around the book was a promise to myself, I think.” 

He busies himself with getting a stencil ready, the drawing supplied speeding up the process. 

“Right, climb on up princess, show me where you want it.”

Blushing, you unzip your skirt at the back and roll it down slightly, shifting your blouse up high. The smile Eddie gives you is salacious, but he doesn't say a word. 

“Right here?” Softly his fingertips graze you, making you jump. That simple act crackles over your skin in an electricity unknown to you. 

“Y-yes,” you practically whisper it, face crimson. 

“So, questions. Can I go first?” 

“Sure” you nod, feeling vulnerable flashing this much skin. 

“OK,” he starts, pressing the stencil down, “I'll start with an easy one. How old are you?” 

“23.” 

He nods, prepping the needle, “your turn princess.” 

“How old are you?” 

“Ah, copycat,” he grins, testing the gun, the sudden noise making you jump, “I'm 30 sweetheart. I know, I look younger.” 

Act younger is more like it. 

“I'm gonna start, you still alright?” 

“Uh huh.” 

“Atta girl. It'll feel like a scratch.” 

He leans forward as his words burn your insides. Atta girl? Part of you wanted to tell him you're not a fucking horse, but another, deeper, part keens at the praise, kicking it's feet and twirling its hair like some dizzy schoolgirl.

The needle touches and you jump, but it's fine. It's easy. If anything, it's rather nice? You gasp at the feeling, your feet wiggling. 

“Right, next question. Why here, why this job?” 

The gun is moving across your skin, consuming all rational thought. You could lie, but a part of you feels like he'd know somehow. 

“I thought it was a printers shop, or a copy place.” 

He laughs briefly, but continues to focus on your new ink. 

“I knew it. Pretty, innocent thing like you, wandering into this den of depravity? Too good to be true.” 

Glazing over his comment, you think of a question to ask. 

“How did you start working here?” 

Eddie scoffs and turns off his machine for a moment, “you need to get creative, stop using my questions.” 

“I really want to know!” You say, meeting his derisory look. 

“Fine, quid pro quo and all that shit. Been here seven years. I begged. I begged Mac for an apprenticeship everyday for a week. He gave in, and here I am. Ask something else, that was boring.” 

You wrack your brains, trying to think of something original, far too aware of the steadying hand that he's pushing onto your abdomen. 

“What band is that?” 

It's the only thing that pops into your mind. He follows your eye line to his t-shirt. 

“Oh this? This is my band, Corroded Coffin. You should come see us sometime.” 

“Oh, what do you play?” 

His face lights up, “I sing, and play guitar. That's why my fingers are so rough-” he holds one up, covered in black latex, “-oh yeah, gloves.” 

After you both share a chuckle, there's a breath of quiet between you, except for the sound of the tattoo gun.

“My turn,” he says, smiling at your hip, “I gotta know, are you a virgin?” 

It's a miracle that he's as responsive as he is, since the question knocks you sideways. You sit up in shock, but he's already moved the needle off and away. 

“You can't just ask that, it's… it's rude!” you splutter, face glowing red. 

There's no trace of apology on his face. In fact, his grin only widens with your reply. 

“I thought so. Don't worry, I'm not gonna tease you about it.” 

Laying back down, you try to think of something to say, but it just doesn't arrive. He can read you like an open book and it's deeply unsettling, not to mention embarrassing. 

“Your turn princess.” 

“I don't want to play anymore.” 

“Oh come on, I'm being nice! Ask me something.” 

“Fine. What was your last wet dream about?” 

To your dismay, he smiles yet again.

“You, sweetheart.” 

Huffing, you cross your arms in annoyance. “Fine, don't answer.” 

He's focusing on your tattoo, tongue poking out in concentration, “I'm nearly done, then you can go back to hating me.” 

“I don't hate you. I've never hated anyone,” you respond in truth. Eddie's eyebrows raise, but he remains focused. 

“Really? You must have had a much better childhood than mine.”

It's quiet for a bit. You're not sure how to respond to that, feeling the cloud of his memory hanging thickly in the air between you. 

“All done.” 

“Huh?” 

He chuckles and points at your new ink, “take a look.” 

It's beautiful. All line and dot work, like it was pulled from the book itself and glued to your hip. 

“It's amazing Eddie. Thank you.” 

The grin he shoots you is warm as he wraps your new ink and then removes his gloves. “No problem. I'll lock up, the sheets on aftercare are right there. But you knew that.” 

Smiling affectionately, you take one and stand up, hovering for a second. 

“Eddie what do I owe-” 

“-not a damn thing. See you in the morning, princess.”

********************

The next few days were much more pleasant. Eddie was flirty, yes, but he seemed to understand when to stop. You had been nicer to him, biting back on the comments when you could. There was a rhythm to it, a constant dance of him flustering you and you annoying him. 

Things really felt like they were falling into place. Until Eddie decided to cross the line. 

Walk in Wednesday again, and the shop was dead. Julio was on shift, sitting in the back having a nap. 

“Hey Mac, can I ask you something?” 

“Sure, what is it Miss?” 

“Well, how do people know about our Wednesdays?” 

“Mostly word of mouth. We handed out flyers before, but it didn't really pick up. Honestly, I'm thinking of scrapping it.” He shrugs, taking a sip of coffee. 

“Before you do, I have an idea. I can design some flyers, get them out to the coffee shop I used to work at. It's by campus, I'm sure a few students would jump at the chance. You could offer a student discount, get them in the door?” You stare at him wide eyed, hoping he likes the idea. The little speech was one you'd practised about fourteen times before actually saying it to him. 

He stares at you for a moment, then smiles. “You know, that's a good idea. I like it. Tell you what, you make it a success and I'll give you a raise.” 

“Oh, thank you! I'll get on it.” You beam, and start planning the flyer. 

Ten minutes later you have your head down, your attention entirely on the paper in front of you. The noisy shop was purely a background soundtrack, including the approaching footsteps. Then, there's a whisper, directly in your ear. 

“What you up to, princess?” 

“Fuck!” 

You scream it out and jump so high you fall off your stool. Eddie's in bits, laughing so hard he's clutching his stomach. 

“I'm sorry I didn't mean to,” he says, looking the least sorry you've ever seen a person look. 

Clambering off the floor to berate him, your mouth flops open when you hear a rip. As you desperately turn your head to look down, you see where your pencil skirt has torn right next to the seam nearly up to your ass. 

“Fuck's sake Eddie! What the hell am I gonna do!” 

Hands shaking, you clench your jaw in panic, trying to frantically come up with a way to rectify it. Eddie holds his hands up to you as if he were approaching a wild animal. 

“Just calm down princess, it's only a skirt.” 

Pouting, you hit him on the arm. 

“It's not just a skirt! I can't work like this, how can I go home and change, I won't be able to fix it and-” 

Eddie smiles and holds one of your hands. 

“It's gonna be OK, we can sort something out. You seriously need to chill, have a big O or something.” He chuckles, clearly meaning for it to be a joke, but it's hitting too close to home. 

It's never happened for you. You've kissed guys, sure, but whenever they reach into your pants, it's either uncomfortable or downright painful. Even your own desperate fumblings haven't got you there. Most of the time you just feel stupid and awkward trying to touch yourself. So, you'd given up, thinking you're broken. That it'll never happen for you. 

Tears well immediately in your eyes. He knows he fucked up, it's written all over his face. As he opens his mouth to speak you rip your hand from his grasp and run to the restroom sobbing. 

It's stupid, it's so stupid. You know that, but the tears won't stop falling, face hot and scrunched as you sit on the closed toilet seat with your head in your hands. Your breath is heavy, gulping and wet; you dimly wonder if you can just stay here until the shop closes.

There's a gentle knock on the door. 

“Sweetheart, can I come in?” It's Eddie, voice softer than you've ever heard it. 

“Go away” you manage. It's shaky and pathetic sounding, but it's out there. 

“I'm not going anywhere. Talk to me, you'll feel better, I promise.” 

He tries the door, turning the handle before you get a chance to lock it. Jumping upright, you go to push him away but he grabs your wrist and pulls you into him. His embrace takes away that edge and pretty soon you're just sobbing into his chest. 

As he strokes the back of your head, he makes shushing noises, his other arm wrapped tight around your shoulders. You're not sure how long you stay like that, in the warmth of his hold, his body pressed against yours. The tenderness calms you down until your tears stop, but he doesn't pull away. 

After a while, he whispers, “feel a little better?” 

“Y-yeah,” you say, voice returning to itself. 

Only then does he release you, rubbing a thumb under your eye to wipe moisture away. 

“I didn't mean to hurt you. You wanna go somewhere and talk about it?” 

“I- I've never- I don't talk about- I-” you shake your head as if to clear it. A part of you wants to hit him, to shout at him, but his gaze is so concerned that you agree. Your shoulders slump, losing a bit of tension. “OK.” 

Smiling at you, he whips his flannel shirt off, leaving him in a white vest, and ties it around your waist. 

“For your modesty. Come with me.” 

Puzzled, you follow him out of the bathroom and back into the shop where Mac is sitting looking worried. 

“What's going-” 

Eddie interrupts, “emergency late lunch needed, alright? Can you cancel my 3 o clock?” 

Mac seems confused, but looks at Eddie's earnest face, and your emotional one, and nods. 

“Not a problem.” 

“Thanks, man.” 

Before you can ask where you're going, he pulls you from the shop by the arm and across the street into a dimly lit bar, depositing you in the nearest booth. 

“I'll be right back.” 

If he's uncomfortable by his appearance, he doesn't show it. The way he strides up to the bar, it's as if he owns the place. It's remarkable, the sheer confidence he embodies like a second skin. 

“Hey, John!” He hollers, knuckles knocking on the wood of the bar. 

John appears, a gruff, stocky guy with a buzz cut and a sour face. 

“What the fuck are you doing here.” 

“Oh come on, you know you missed me.” 

John's face screws into something akin to a smile. “What do you want, you little shit.” 

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Eddie grins and winks, “two beers please.” 

A grunt and a nod, and John puts the beers down on the bar. As Eddie reaches for his wallet John waves a hand in dismissal. 

“Put that away boy, your money ain't good here. Besides, your lady friend looks like she needs it.” 

You flush and tear your eyes away, embarrassed. Eddie walks back over and puts a beer in front of you. 

“Eddie, we're still working I-” 

“It's one beer. It's alright.” 

You shrug and take a sip, nodding at the bartender, “he knows I'm upset, do I look a mess?” 

Shaking his head so hard it releases some of his wayward waves from their confines, he tips his beer at you, before he takes a long chug. 

“No,” he says enthusiastically, “you look just as pretty as you always do.” 

Scoffing, you turn your eyes downward. Eddie ignores your response, instead pressing on what happened earlier. 

“Sorry again,” he says, sounding genuinely distressed, "I don't want to see anyone hurt from something I said, least of all you.” 

Meeting his gaze, you smile incredulously. “Oh? And why me?” 

“Come on, don't make me say it.” 

Staring at him, you fold your arms in an act of defiance. He rolls his eyes and looks at you. 

“I like you. You're uptight, and mean to me, and a little conceited, but I like you. I don't want you to hurt. Can we just be friends? I'm a pretty good listener, you know? I can help.” 

Heat floods your insides. Eyes scanning him for any sign of a joke, you come up empty. 

‘I'm not conceited,” you counter weakly, clinging on to the familiar push and pull. 

“And I'm the Easter bunny.” 

Giggling, you take another sip of beer. 

“Come on, friends? Talk to me.” 

Sighing deeply, you fix your gaze at the table, forefinger tracing patterns in the condensation from your drink. “Promise not to laugh?” 

“I promise.” 

You can't tell how genuine he's being, as you don't dare look at his face, nerves controlling your every limb. His voice seems honest enough. 

“I- I have a problem, something I can't physically do. You reminded me of it. It's not your fault.” Shrugging in an attempt to make this look less serious than it is for you, you take a pull out of your beer bottle once more.

“Wait, are you saying…” he chuckles a little in disbelief, “have you never… had an orgasm before?” 

“Eddie, be quiet!” You urgently whisper, looking around the bar. 

“No one's listening sweetheart, no spies in here,” he says in a low tone, hand reaching out to grasp yours. Your first instinct is to shake his hand away but he holds firm, rough fingertips rubbing against your knuckles. 

“Eddie, I'm broken,” you whimper, voice breaking, “I can't do it.” 

“Oh sweetheart,” he responds, chock full of emotion, “you're not broken. You are perfect.” 

Pulling your hand away, you keep your eyes away from his, unwilling to meet that burning gaze of his. Unwilling to lose yourself in those sultry dark eyes. 

“I can't do it. Anytime some guy tries, it hurts. I've given up to be honest. I just wasn't made for it.” 

He laughs again, dragging his hand over his face. 

“Fuck, sweetheart, the problem ain't you. Have you- have you tried, fixing it, on your own?” The last part is a whisper, you assume to protect your feelings. 

“Yeah, but I just feel stupid and awkward. I don't know.” 

There's a little silence between you as you both dwell in the suffocating fog of your confession, neither of you willing to clear it. 

“Listen, this may be way out of your comfort zone, but I'm saying it anyway. If you don't like it, we'll forget it, and I won't mention it again.” 

Finally looking at him, at the vulnerability on his face, you nod, not trusting your voice. 

“I can… maybe I can help you. Show you you're not broken? As a favour between friends.” 

You laugh mirthlessly and finish your beer. “That's a little more than a favour, Eddie.” 

“We can keep it professional.” 

You stare at him wide eyed. His messy hair and dark glittering eyes. At the way he slumps in his seat like a king or a delinquent, you can't decide which. At his taunt frame, the tattoos spackling every available inch of his skin. Your eyebrows raise of their own accord. 

“Professional? You?” 

“Yeah, me! I can do it, you know. I could make you come.” 

A shiver forces its merry way down your spine at his words. 

“You're really confident.” 

“You haven't seen what I can do.” 

Blushing hard, you attempt to control yourself. “Look, if we're going to do this, I need you to promise some things.” 

“Ah, of course, you would have rules,” he grins, as he leans back and spreads in his seat, “continue.” 

Searching your mind for a moment, you try to glean what you need. 

“First of all, we need to be discreet, and professional at all times, clear?” 

“As crystal,” he grins wolfishly, “anything else?” 

“Yeah- I think,” you wrack your brains, trying to come up with something that would make this less intimate. Anything. But the roguish nature of his presence makes it hard to even think of a thing. Finally, your eyes widen at the idea that suddenly crosses your mind. 

“Final rule. No kissing.” 

He pouts, looking at your chest and back up, “no kissing anywhere?” 

“N-no, no kissing on the mouth.” 

Grin returning, he winks at you, a gesture that flips your stomach inside out. 

“Kinky. Alright, deal,” he leans forward to give his hand to yours. A hand covered in ink and calluses. Roughness and tenderness. 

You shake it.

********************

For the next couple of days, your little arrangement isn't brought up. A wild thought hammers itself into your mind; either he wasn't serious, or you imagined it. 

Those theories are put to bed on day three. 

After you let Mac know about the flyers and the bonus poster you designed, you sit back and enjoy the praise given to you. It's funny, the feeling of being told a job has been well done makes you happier than you care to admit.

Eddie turns up at the counter, whistling through his teeth. “Sweet looking flyers, how'd you swing those?” 

“I designed them. I've got a degree in design and marketing, if you didn't know,” you sniff, rearranging the stationary on the counter to avoid his eyes. 

“Maybe you could help me design some for my band. These look pretty metal.” He says, picking one up and looking at it closely. 

“Maybe.” 

Eddie leans in close, so close you feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek. 

“If you're still up for our arrangement, I'm free tonight.” 

Heat immediately flushes your face. Ignoring him entirely, you write your address and a time on a notepad, and thrust the paper into his hands. 

“Covert, I like it. See you then princess.” 

By the time 9pm rolls around you're a jittery mass of nerves, having changed clothes no less than four times, tidied your apartment, changed the bedsheets and paced so much you're surprised there's not a groove in the floorboards. 

In the end you'd decided on a baggy band t-shirt and your sleep shorts. It was a rational calculation to make Eddie think you're just wearing what you usually would at home and therefore show you're not nervous. I mean, you are wearing what you'd usually wear at home. He didn't need to know about how long it took you to reach that decision. 

The sound of the intercom buzzing sends your pulse into overdrive. Pressing the button, you let out a strangled “Hello?” 

“Hey princess.” 

“Come on up.” 

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck…

A soft knock at the door and you count to five, trying to remember how to breathe. When you open the door, you're stunned. He's leaning on the doorframe in a fucking button up shirt. It's black, and clings to him deliciously. His hair looks a little damp, loose around his shoulders, and his aftershave is making you feel dizzy. 

“Oh, you didn't need- I mean-” you point at his shirt, and he looks down and chuckles. 

“Just came from band practice. Took a shower, and this was clean,” he shrugs and shoulders into your apartment. “Nice place. Where's all your stuff?” 

You look around at your sparse apartment. Everything in order, down to the fresh flowers on your tiny dining table. 

“This is all my stuff,” you say, confused, “I don't like clutter.” 

He chuckles, walking over to you. “No wonder I annoy you. I am clutter.” 

He's close now, close enough so that you have to look up to see his face. His rough fingers ghost your arm, sending a wave of goosebumps over your skin. 

“Nice seeing you in something casual. L7, right?” He asks, pointing at the t-shirt. 

“Yeah, you know who they are?” 

“I'm surprised you do. Thought you'd be a Mariah Carey kinda girl.” 

You scrunch your face in distaste. “No, not at all. You don't know everything about me.” 

He leans in, warm breath a whisper in your ear. “I know some things about you.” 

Squirming hotly, you lead him to your room before you lose your nerve. 

“So, the princess's bedchamber. It's nice,” he remarks, flopping down on the bed as if it were his own. 

“Take your boots off,” you snip, folding your arms. 

“Ah, there she is.” He smiles, but does as instructed. Once more he's laying back into your scattered pillows looking perfectly at ease. You, on the other hand, stand there, spine a vertical rod as you stare back at him. 

 “Come on then, sit down.” 

Nervously you sit at the foot of the bed with your legs crossed. 

“Now princess, what do you do when you touch yourself?” 

Blushing furiously, you stammer out, “what, do you expect me to like, show you?” 

He chuckles, diffusing some of the tension. “As much as I'd like that, I don't think you're ready for that kinda shit. Just tell me, what's your thought process?” 

Staring at him for a little too long, you open your mouth and close it again. He rolls his eyes. 

“Look, if you want me to help I'll help, but you gotta give me something here.” He looks as if he's about to get up and leave; your arm shoots out on its own accord, grabbing his leg to stop him. 

“Sorry, sorry. I just, I've never spoken about this kinda stuff. I don't know about any process, I just… reach down and fiddle around?” You blush even more. 

“So you don't like, watch anything? Or read anything?” He looks a little amused.

“What on earth are you talking about?” 

“Porn, sweetheart.” 

It's so blunt that you jump a little. “Oh no, I've never, oh no no.” 

“Christ,” he whispers, “right, you can like, set the mood. Look at something to turn you on? It'd probably help you feel less awkward.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

“And do you ever just like, slouch? I feel like I'm back at school looking at ya.” 

“Huh?” 

“Just, come here.” He pats the little space between his spread legs and you hesitate for a second before you crawl over to him. 

“How do you want me to sit, like cross legged or-” 

He grabs your hips and spins you, forcing your back into his crotch.

“Stop trying to control every little thing,” he says in a hard tone, one you're too embarrassed to admit makes your insides tingle. Softer, he continues. “Look, if you're ever gonna get there you need to relax, stop trying to control it, and stop overthinking.” 

“Great, all of the things I'm shit at.” 

His laugh is loud, it vibrates into your spine. “I'll help you, OK? You trust me?” 

“In a very limited sense of the word, yeah.” 

“Lemme rephrase. You still OK to do this?” 

“Yeah.”

“Good. Just relax.” 

You're not sure what you are expecting, but it certainly isn't his hands winding into your hair, fingertips rubbing softly at your scalp. It shoots tingles down your spine, your entire head feeling fuzzy and warm. 

You stifle a whimper, biting your lip. His fingers stop. 

“If you want to make noises, you can. Tells me I'm doing a good job. That goes for everything else too, alright?” 

“Alright.” You whisper. 

“You comfortable?” 

“Yeah it's just- well-”

“Tell me.” 

“I think it's your shirt buttons, they're digging into my back a bit,” you admit, feeling the sharp points down your spine. 

“Easily fixed.” He taps your arm and you lean forward. Some rustling, and he throws his shirt to the foot of your bed. 

“Now just chill sweetheart.” 

His fingers begin rubbing at you again, thumbs sinking low to pop at the bubbles in your neck. 

“Fuck, that's really nice.” 

He hums appreciatively, working his hands lower and dropping them to your shoulders. The massaging continues, and you feel yourself melting, your body moulding into his. Your legs, once ramrod straight, have bent a little and parted of their own accord, the muscles loosening. Even your breathing has slowed. 

“That's better, atta girl,” he says and you whine at the words, a little pathetic mewling sound that tumbles past your lips.

“Oh, you like that, don't you?” The smile is evident in his voice, a smug tone smeared liberally across each word. 

“You, you're so-” you begin, but his hand drags across the front of your shirt, just over the tops of your breasts.

“I'm so what?” He whispers in your ear.

“So, so arrogant,” you huff. He laughs, a husky chuckle, and dances the tips of his fingers over your clothed nipple. Gasping, you grasp at his thighs either side of you.

“Yeah? What else am I?” He says, nibbling at your earlobe. 

“You- you're cocky, and- and self assured- Oh God!” 

Rudely interrupted by him tweaking your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, you swear, back arching off of him for a moment. 

“You know,” he says in a gravelly tone directly in your ear, “those are pretty much the same thing.” 

“You drive me crazy,” you huff, squirming a little against him as his hands explore your chest over your shirt.

“Good crazy or bad crazy?” He smiles, then bites softly at your neck. 

“I- I haven't decided yet.” 

“Good. I can say the same about you,” he admits, his hands trailing lower, pulling your shirt up so he can stroke at your bare sides. The touch of fingertips on your skin sends a river of sensations through you that run deep into your core. 

“Are you going to- what are you doing, exactly?” You breathe, starting to move against him. 

“I'm warming you up sweetheart. Why, don't you like it?” 

Genuinely curious, you try to ask what you want to know without using the words. 

 “N- no, I do. Do you have to, erm, get warmed up? When you, you know.” 

He lets out a little huff of a laugh. “Guys are a little less… complicated, than girls. For the most part.” 

“Oh. OK, so you can just. I mean, you just, get excited?” Your breathing becomes more ragged when the tip of his thumb grazes the underside of your breast. 

“Sweetheart, I got hard seeing you in these little shorts.” Running a finger down your stomach, he lightly pings the elastic of your sleep shorts as if to accentuate his point. 

“Really?” 

There's no denying it when he moves his hips up and you feel his solid bulge press into the small of your back. 

“Really. Can I take this off?” He asks, twisting the hem of your shirt in one hand. 

“Yeah.” It's a whisper. You're a little scared of being bare chested, but not having to see his face helps. Plus, he's wound you up so much you're on the verge of begging for his touches, pleading for more. 

He guides your top up, up, up, revealing you slowly. Coaxing it over your head, you move your arms up so he can remove it. It ends up in a heap on top of his shirt. One tattooed arm wraps around your waist, pulling you toward him more, his hardness pushing against your ass. 

His breathing is unsteady as he grinds his hips, pushing onto you further. Gasping, your fingers are vices, firmly attached to his thighs in a vain attempt to anchor you. 

Suddenly his hand is winding into your hair, tugging your head aside so he can run a fat tongue across your neck. You shudder at the sensation, feeling the hard ball of his tongue piercing against your throat When he takes his pillowy lips and sucks at the spot between your neck and shoulder a moan slips out. Grunting in approval, his hands are on your bare tits, fingers pinching at your hardened nipples. 

“Holy hell!” 

He laughs, running rough fingers down your body, circling your new ink, then dipping down past your waistband. Those tattooed fingers barely brush your pubic hair, teasing you, then glide back up to your stomach. 

“Eddie, please.” 

Your voice is small, not your own. Eddie groans low in your ear, rubbing his length into the fat of your ass.

“Fuck, princess, I like you saying my name like that. You want me to touch you right here?” he says, pressing down hard over your clothed clit. 

The sheer relief of having his touch where you need it gets you close to tears; a gulping shudder of a sob rips from deep in your chest. 

“See, you're not broken, sweetheart. Can I take these off?” 

Shaking, you hook your fingers into your sleep shorts and pull them down your legs, air hitting your most intimate area. Eddie huffs in your ear, his inked hands rubbing up the insides of your thighs. 

“You're so fuckin’ sexy.”

Before you can retort, his fingers dip down to your entrance, gathering your slick. You can hear how wet you are, but it's not in you to think about it. You can't think, only feel. 

When his fingers run up and start rubbing circles into your clit, your response is visceral. Bucking up, you chase the feeling, searching for even more. 

“I'm gonna slip a finger in, alright princess?” 

You nod, waiting for the pain, wincing before it even starts.

“It's OK, you're fine, you gotta relax baby.” He strokes your stomach with his free hand, pressing kisses to your temple. 

The tip of his finger breaches you, and the pain doesn't come. Your soaking wet cunt invites him in, warm and pulsing with arousal. He slips it into the hilt, his palm pressing into your clit, and your moan is long and loud. It's never felt like this. Never has it stoked a fire in your gut, bubbled your insides like pop rocks and Coke, turned you into a writhing mess. 

He fucks his finger into you, slipping a second in to join the first, and you move your hips, chasing the building tightness in your belly. Each thrust of his hand has you bucking, and in turn rubbing against his member trapped within its denim prison. 

“That's it, good fuckin’ girl.” His voice is strained, as if he's trying hard not to lose control. 

“Eddie, oh fuck, f-feels so- good, yes, please, please-” 

You're not sure what you're begging for, and Eddie doesn't seem to be in any state to ask, but it doesn't matter. His fingers fuck into you in earnest, stroking hard against some spot inside that has you babbling and quivering around him. 

“God, you're so tight, this little cunts gonna drive me crazy. So wet and perfect, Jesus Christ.”

The feeling seems too much and not enough, and it grows higher and higher, flooding your body with a pleasure so intense you're sure you black out. The only thing you're aware of is your voice screaming out his name as your body thrusts wildly into his grip. Finally, it dissipates, your body melting against his form, sweating and spent. 

You take a breath, and another, trying to gather your wits enough to speak. Eddie speaks first.

“So sweetheart, everything you dreamed it would be?” He asks as he strokes your hair. 

“Better. Fuck, Eddie. Thank you.” 

“Anytime. Seriously. Any. Time. Day, night, weekends, holidays-” 

You giggle, slapping his thigh, and sit up, grabbing your discarded shirt to cover up. 

“Sorry, that was probably a little er, frustrating for you.” You say as you glance at his bare torso, drinking in the sight with your eyes for the first time. He's lean, but ripped, a faint sheen of sweating making his tattoos glisten in the low light. 

“What do you mean sweetheart?” 

“Well, doing that, not getting anything in return...” 

He chuckles lightly, “Oh I wouldn't say that,” he glances down, gesturing to his jeans, “full disclosure, I came in my pants.” 

“Really?” your eyes widen, staring at him with disbelief. 

“I ain't lying. Wanna check?” He waggles his eyebrows at you, making you laugh again. 

“You seem better already. Right, I better go.” 

Shoulders deflating, you pout, “I suppose you better.” 

“Hey don't look at me like that. I hoped that helped. Sleep tight, drink some water. I'll see you tomorrow princess.” 

And just like that, he leaves. Of course he leaves, it was just a deal you struck, nothing more. A favour. you wipe stray tears from your eyes and try not to focus on the sound of the front door shutting. 

As you collapse on the bed, exhausted, you think about his hands, his words. There's something screaming inside, telling you you're playing with fire, but as you drift off you can't find it in you to mind.

Taglist

This cat and mouse game you’ve been playing for months was just a little too exciting for him to give up. You should’ve been scared, your instincts told you to be. But hearing his husky voice cut through the darkness of the abandoned warehouse made your heart skip a beat.

“Nice to see you again, sweetheart…”

You couldn’t tell where he was yet, still using the cover of the night to shield himself from you. You clutch your bottle of holy water closer to your side as his chuckle bounced off the walls. “You’ve tried that before, it didn't work out so well last time. Did it, pet?”

He was getting closer, you could tell by the way your hair stood up on end. Squaring your shoulders as he finally steps out into the moonlight. The sight makes you freeze, your eyes widening in disbelief. Kas looked different from the last time you had seen him.

He had taken on a new vessel, one that had become quite familiar to you.

Eddie Munson, a bartender you had met at a place called the Hideout. After you’d stumbled inside the rundown bar for a drink after finishing a grueling hunt somewhere in Indiana.

He was sweet, and you both needed to let off some steam. So you took him back to your motel room for the night… and the night after that. The male had made you feel things no one else ever could. So you kept finding yourself going back to that shitty town to see him. Where he was always waiting with that charming smile and a rum and coke.

But now guilt riddled your chest as his once chocolate hues were a stark onyx, Eddie was long gone.

The demon in front of you smirks, eyes watching you in amusement as the recognition crossed over your features.

This was your fault, you put him in harm's way. You had been told time and again not to let yourself be involved with non-hunters. Regular folk. It would put them at risk, not knowing about the things that go bump in the night.

But demons were especially dangerous, they didn’t need consent to take over someone’s body. The only reason you were protected was due to the dark ink that swirled over your hip bone.

Kas takes a step toward you, causing you to take one step back in return. This only made that smirk widen as another chuckle slipped past his lips.

Lips that had been on you too many times to count.

“He thinks about you a lot, you know… wanted you to stay with him so many times.” The demon hums condescendingly, the implication behind his words makes your heart stutter in your chest.

Coming to the realization that you could never have that happy ending now, not with him, or anyone.

After crossing paths so many times, you knew how malicious the demon standing before you could be. Even if you were able to banish him back to hell, Eddie wouldn't be able to return to a normal life.

Once that veil between those worlds is lifted, there’s no way to undo the damage it causes. You’ve seen it more times than you can count.

“A little pathetic, really…” Kas continues as he advances on you slowly, backing you further into a corner.

Your emotions are clouding your reasoning, allowing the demon to continue to close in on you. It shouldn’t be affecting you like this, but as much as you tried to convince yourself otherwise… you knew one thing was true. You had fallen for the metalhead.

And now you’d never get him back.

“But don’t worry, sweetness— he’s still in here with me,” as he speaks you feel your back connect with the cool concrete, the male now caging you against it.

His body felt warm against yours, a juxtaposition to the cold seeping into your back. His familiar scent of citrus and tobacco engulfs your senses completely, bringing you back to the last time you saw each other. Your limbs were tangled together as you lay in a post sex haze. His lazy smile made your skin tingle, finding yourself tracing over the faded tattoos on his chest.

From the flash in his dark eyes you knew he was reliving a memory of Eddie’s, if not the same one.

His calloused fingers begin to trail across your neck, unintentionally allowing yourself to lean into the graze of his fingertips. Despite how your mind screams at you to push him away, your body continues to betray you. Kas can’t help but notice how your skin heats under his touch, how your thighs squeeze together. It amuses him more than you’ll ever know.

“Don’t touch me,” you mutter, wishing your words held much more malice than they do. The slight shake in your voice causes another dark chuckle to spill past his plump lips. Mocking you.

The demon leans further into your space, those damned lips grazing over your collarbone. The feeling causes you to shiver as goosebumps break out across your skin. Kas continues to leave hot, open mouthed kisses along your throat. The feelings of fear, anger and arousal mixing together— making your head spin.

“You can deny that you want this with your words all you want sweetheart, but I see the way your body reacts to this vessel.” He taunts, letting his teeth nip at your tender flesh.

“I feel those goosebumps on your skin, the way you shiver under his touch, and… I can smell you.” Kas growls, his teeth sinking roughly into your skin.

A slight whimper leaves your lips as you attempt to push him away. But it’s too late— he has the upper hand now.

His fingers lace themselves into your hair and tug, exposing more of your neck to him. He licks a stripe up your throat to your ear, taking the lobe between his teeth.

“I can feel how bad he wants you too, you know. The way he reacts to your body… you have no idea how much he wants to feel you again.”

Your eyes widen in shock as the demon presses his hips into yours, feeling how hard he was through the fabric of his jeans.

Get the fuck off her asshole, she’s mine!

Kas chuckles again, pulling back slightly as his hands continue to wander down your body. There’s a flash of something in those onyx hues, leaving you to wonder what hidden joke you’re missing out on.

“Your little boy toy isn’t very happy with me, sweetheart… he doesn’t want to share. How selfish of him,” he feigns a pout, leaning forward as his nose glides along your jaw.

I’m warning you, dickhead.

His deep chuckle fills the silence once more as his large hands grip onto your hips, “Isn’t he selfish, pet?”

“Fuck you,” you spit back, shoving him away but only momentarily. His hands quickly return to the curve of your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.

That spark of defiance returns, which only makes the demon grin wider. His hold on your hips becomes harsher, the metal of his rings biting into the skin there.

“Hmm… with pleasure, darling.” His lips hover over yours as his sweet breath fans across your face. There’s a moment when those black hues slowly start to fade, the brown of Eddie’s returning.

Seeing that flicker of him, the man you had desperately fallen for— is what finally breaks your resolve.

Closing that short distance between you and angrily smashing your lips against his. He moans into your mouth, his hands hooking under your thighs to lift you. Trapping you further against the wall as he grinds his pelvis into yours.

You don’t know where Kas starts and Eddie ends, but you can’t find it in yourself to care.

The kiss is angry, all tongue and teeth viciously clashing together. There’s still a small part of you that’s begging you to get away, that this was wrong. But your body has taken over control, that little voice fading with each press of his lips against yours.

His tongue glides along your lower lip, begging for entry you weren’t yet willing to give. The male doesn’t give up that easily though, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass and squeezing.

The action takes you by surprise, the small gasp you let out allowing him to slip inside. Kas groans as he sucks your tongue into his mouth, before setting you back on your feet. He pins your hips against the rough concrete as he kneels before you.

The demon eagerly buries his face in between your thighs as he inhales deeply, “I need to know if this pussy tastes as sweet as it smells.”

You’re stunned into silence as he reaches to quickly unbutton your jeans. Finding yourself all too eager to aid him in sliding the denim and lace down your legs. Stepping out of the fabric as Kas tosses them somewhere in the dark of the warehouse.

The brunette doesn’t waste another moment before his tongue is licking a fat stripe up your slit, forcing your thighs apart in his strong hands. Your fingers lace themselves in his wild curls, tugging harshly as you feel his tongue dip inside your entrance. His growl vibrates against your core, nose nudging your bundle of nerves in a way that has your legs trembling in his grasp.

“Hmm, even better than his memories…” you nearly miss his admission over your soft whines, but you don’t have time to dwell on it.

Kas eagerly replaces his tongue with his fingers as the muscle swirls up and around your swollen bud. Your head is swimming, his actions bringing you that much closer to the edge. The male enjoys the way you grind yourself harder onto his tongue as your grip on his hair tightens. Feeling the way your walls flutter around his fingers only encourages him to pick up the pace.

While your eyes have slipped shut, his are wide open. The stormy irises commit each pleasurable expression that flits across your face to memory— to both of their memories.

The almost inhuman speed of his fingers and the firm pressure of his tongue finally pushes you over the edge. As your loud cries echo throughout the empty warehouse. You attempt to push his head away, but his lips don’t leave your body. Instead he trails them down your thighs, smearing your slick across your skin.

You curse softly before dropping to your knees, pushing him backwards. He is surprised by your sudden dominance, but allows you to lay him back on the dirty ground. Your hands fumble with his belt, pulling the zipper down with an urgency you had never seen from yourself before. It makes him chuckle, as you greedily shove his pants down to his knees.

“If you were that needy for our cock you could’ve just said so, sweetness.” He grins devilishly as your hands reach for the elastic of his boxers.

Mine, not yours…

Your eyes flick up to meet his, the smirk plastered on his lips fuels your irritation further.

“Shut the fuck up, Kas.” You say between gritted teeth, pulling his hard cock out from the confines of his boxers as he stifled a moan.

Fuck, that’s my girl…

You don’t give him much warning before you’re straddling his hips, sinking down onto his full length with a whimper. It didn’t matter how many times you had taken him to bed, you were still in awe of just how well he filled you up. You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock, caressing your inner walls in a way no other man could.

It was addictive, a slice of heaven you never wanted to lose.

The male grips your hips tightly, guiding them as he rocks his own up against yours. He’s groaning beneath you, dark eyes watching the space where your bodies are connecting with almost… fascination. A creamy ring has formed around the base of his cock as you continue to ride him. You let your nails dig into his clothed chest with a satisfied whine, your head falling back as you take him deeper.

She really is an angel…

The demon doesn’t seem pleased with your languid pace any longer as he abruptly flips you both over. The movement knocks the wind from your lungs. Kas grins down at you, his teeth gleaming in the moonlight that has filtered in through a broken window. His large hands hold you firmly in place as he begins slamming into your cervix. Causing your back to arch off the grimy floor, your shirt riding up in the process.

The sounds of your bodies connecting fill the once eerie silence of the night. His eyes rake over your newly exposed skin, pushing the material further up your torso. His calloused fingers trace over the ink splayed across your hip with a dark look.

“This little mark might protect your soul, but it’s not going to protect your body.” He grunts as he continues to slam his hips harder into yours, “Not from me. Or him.”

You don’t answer, instead grabbing a fist full of his hair and smashing your mouths together. He kisses you back just as roughly, teeth catching your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The familiar taste of his saliva mixes with a harsh metallic flavor. The taste of you on his tongue only fuels the fire raging inside you. The male sucks your bleeding lip in between his.

Kas grabs your shaky legs, wrapping them around his waist to join you closer together. A gasp escapes your lips as he hits that sweet spot inside you, causing your eyes to roll back. The demon groans as he feels you pulse around his cock, trailing his lips over your jaw. The mixture of his spit and your own blood smearing across your skin.

“No wonder he can’t stop thinking about you,” his words are spoken so softly you almost don’t catch them.

Pride blooms in your chest as a small smirk graces your features, but it’s wiped away just as quickly. His hips pound into yours even faster, leaving any snarky comment to die on your lips. Instead a pleasurable cry pierces the air as your nails drag across his back.

You can feel your orgasm building with each deep stroke of his cock, filling you to the brim. His lips suck onto the base of your throat, his breath coming out in short pants as you tighten around him more.

“That’s it, angel. It's okay, I’m here.”

Your eyes that had previously fluttered shut, now snap back open. Coaxing his face up from the crook of your neck. No one ever called you that but Eddie, not even Kas.

Your eyes meet his brown ones, letting his hips slow their pace. That signature dimple indents his cheek when he smiles down at you, tears blurring your vision. You quickly blink them away to see him more clearly. Eddie leans down, gently kissing away the moisture that has stained your cheeks.

He wraps you in his arms, pulling you up and into his lap. The new position only buries him deeper inside you, allowing the pleasure to wash over you completely. Your body trembles in his embrace as you rest your forehead against his.

“Eddie,” you moan, grinding yourself harder onto his cock as he holds you close.

His touch is much softer as his hands reach out to caress every inch of you. While he still has control over his own body. Allowing himself to soak in every moment before he’s ripped away from you again. But between your pretty cries and his husky groans, neither of you will be lasting much longer.

“I’ve got you, angel… come for me.” The promise of safety in his voice makes your heart flutter in your chest.

Feeling his fingers encircle over your sensitive nub, he gives you one more hard thrust before you finally fall apart. A breathy cry of his name tumbles from your lips as you feel him twitch inside you. Your body melts further against him, an attempt to keep him here with you. Despite knowing the reality that was soon to come.

“Fuck… I love you. I love you.” He sounds desperate as he mutters the words against your temple.

In your blissful state you don’t notice the black haze beginning to overtake his irises. His words ring in your ears as you feel him spill inside you. Not stopping the movement of his hips as he fucks his essence deeper inside you. Letting your head fall into the crook of his neck as you mumble those three words back into his flushed skin. His comforting scent washes over you as you attempt to catch your breath.

“Well wasn’t that just so sweet,” your body stiffens in his embrace, his deep chuckle snapping you out of the sweet cocoon you were just in.

You quickly scramble out of his lap in an effort to detach yourself from him. His previously comforting touch now sets your skin ablaze, as if he had burned you. You can feel the mixture of your arousal dripping down your thighs as you hurry to find your discarded clothes in the dark.

In your frenzied state, you don’t hear him approaching until he’s right behind you. His ringed fingers dig into the curve of your waist as you bend over to retrieve your jeans. His hips flush against your ass, the metal on his belt pressing into your bare skin. His hand reaches around to dip in between your thighs, collecting some of the mess you both made.

Kas eagerly sucks the digits into his mouth with a moan, before you feel the warmth of his body disappear.

“We’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart… you can count on that.”

Is the the last thing you hear as he slips into the still of the night.

Eddie bolts up right as he wakes up from another nightmare. 

Since you started spending the night, he noticed he had been having them more frequently. He assumed it was due to the stress of everything that had happened with you and starting this new dynamic which is why he bypassed telling Steve he had been having them even though he promised after the last time he would. 

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he glanced your way, softly smiling at your sleeping frame as his boyfriend cuddled you to his chest.

After moving the covers, he scooted to the bathroom gripping his side where his old scar ached as he prepared for the long day ahead. 

***

It had been a couple of weeks since you and the guys agreed to take things one step at a time. You talked with Theo, telling him you didn’t feel like you were ready for a relationship at the moment and to your surprise he more than understood.

“I get it. If you ever change your mind though, I’m here.”

Martin had returned to his classes, his presence freezing you entirely when you saw him sitting at a desk across the room. Eddie had beckoned you over with his finger, guiding you into his office. 

“Are you going to be alright? He’s been instructed by his ‘lawyer’ to not talk to you.”

“Lawyer?”

“His dad.”, he sighs as he rolls his eyes. “They’re contesting Steve kicking him off the team but I’m not sure why they waited so long. I offered an alternative course he could take or a different time he can take my class but he refused.”

“It’s ok. I’ll be ok.”

His palms cup your cheeks as his thumbs run along your face. 

“Ok. I’m going to keep an eye on him. You’re safe in my classroom, sweetheart.”

Smiling, you reach up to kiss his lips.

“I know.”

You loved spending time with them on and off campus. Steve ran with you sometimes on the track after your lunch and Eddie would give you books from his office he thought you would enjoy so you could talk about them as soon as you finished. 

They couldn’t take you on dates but they did what they could, making you dinner, renting movies, and sometimes just hanging out on their living room floor talking. You absolutely enjoyed having conversations with them. Eddie seemed to be an adorable nerd regaling you with tales of his band days and how much he missed playing. Steve was a phenomenal listener asking questions and making sure you felt heard. You always returned the favor when it came to him and sports. You didn’t know much on the topic but you adored seeing the man’s eyes light up when he talked about his teams over the years and his hopes for the future.

Your evenings in their bed were euphoric to say the least. They were rough in the best possible way but even better they knew when to be aggressive and when to be soft. Sometimes they were a good mix of both making you cum repeatedly till you were practically convulsing on their mattress. 

“Come on, honey. Give us one more. You can do it, baby. Just focus that fuzzy little brain and let go.”

“I-I-I can’t, Mr. Harrington, please.”

“It didn’t sound like to me he was asking, little girl. Now keep those legs open and give us what we want. If you close them one more time, Steve isn’t going to give you what YOU want.”

“What do you want, Y/N?”, the man cooed above you as his nose grazed yours. “Tell us.”

“I—fuck—I need you to fill me up…like Mr. Munson did. Please!”

Steve thrust into you harder, hitting your overly sensitive and abused g-spot till you were screaming his name.

“There she is! Atta girl. Our good little toy…fuck, baby, your pussy’s still clinging to me. I’m going to give her what she wants.”

His grunts filled your ear as he warmed your insides with both men kissing your neck as you came down from your high.

Afterwards, they would hold you to them whispering praises and how beautiful you were till you fell asleep. Things had been going incredibly well for you but little did you know what was going on behind the scenes. 

One morning at 3am, you woke up alone but noticed their bathroom door open a crack with the light shining brightly through. Eddie was leaning against the counter on the floor with his knees to his chin as he appeared to be rocking back and forth. You vaguely made out Steve’s palms around his boyfriend’s arms as he whispered comforts that didn’t make any sense.

“It’s ok, honey. You’re ok. You’re safe. I’m right here, baby. Vecna’s gone and those things can’t get to you. All the gates are closed.”

Eddie’s whimpers took a while to hit your ears but when you finally heard it, it killed you. While his partner tried to comfort him, your professor was repeatedly saying the same sentence under his breath. 

“I don’t wanna die.”

####################

“Mr. Harrington, your job is to make sure these kids have the best chance at success!”

“I understand that Dean Gillman but that doesn’t require me to coddle them especially when they do something as terrible as what Martin Click did!”

You listen outside the dean’s office as you wait to be called in having received a letter to attend a meeting “regarding the matter of dismissal of Mr. Click.” As soon as you entered the waiting area, Steve’s agitated tone hit you. Your heart broke for him knowing he was just doing what he thought was right. 

“ALLEDGEDLY did.”, said a man you didn’t recognize. “My son isn’t like that freak you spend all your time with.”

“Son of a bitch—”

“That is enough!”, the dean yelled before his voice followed through the reception intercom. “Is Miss Y/L/N here yet?”

When the secretary confirms, she flashes you a comforting smile and gestures towards the office. Right as you walk in, all the masculine energy hits you at once. Steve is fuming but he gently tries to grin your way so you know everything is alright. The dean’s frustrated eyes don’t mask the heavy worry behind them, for you or the star quarterback you weren’t sure. The other man you assumed to be Martin’s father didn’t even turn your way as you took a seat between them. 

“Miss Y/L/N, we called you here because as you’re aware Martin Click was cut from the football team by Coach Harrington here. We have heard all sides of the story as to why but we would like to hear yours.”

“Yes, sir. Um, I was at the diner downtown studying for one of my classes and as I got up to leave Martin said something rude—”

“What did he say?”

“Um… he mentioned my weight—”

“But what exactly did he say?”, Martin’s dad asked sternly cutting you off again.

“If you stop interrupting her and let her finish maybe you’ll find out.”, Steve defended. 

“He called me his favorite piggy. That’s your sons nickname for me since freshman year.”, you growl his way before focusing back on the dean. “I just wanted to leave and go back to my dorm. He followed me out the front door and said I shouldn’t disrespect him in front of his friends—”

“Did you?”

“Does that matter?!”, you yell, fed up with his attitude. “And no for your information. I ignored his rude comment and walked to my car where he pulled my backpack, choked me, and tore my shirt!”

“That’s when Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson stepped in?”

“Yes, sir. Mr. Harrington threatened to suspend him but Martin was rude and didn’t like that so…”

“This doesn’t sound like my son.”

“I’ve witnessed him harassing her before. Usually, I just reprimand him but this time he went too far.”

“Look, I don’t want to take this to court but I will if I have to. My son deserves to be on this team.”

“Why because his daddy was a quarterback 15 years ago?”

“Said Mr. King Steve Harrington here whose parents have their hands in everything in Hawkins. Do you really think after everything you got this job because you’re a good coach?!”

“Jared…”, the dean warned. 

“Hell, even this little girl. Everyone is going to believe any claims she makes because her father was a hero and my son gets thrown under the bus!”

You rise angerly to your feet but as you step forward, Steve hastily takes hold of your arm and holds you back. 

“Don’t you dare talk about my dad!”

“That is enough! I will personally see to this investigation and notify everyone on the outcome. Mr. Click is to still stay away from Y/N and at this time is still cut from the team.”

Martin’s dad storms out and you thank the dean as you follow suit. 

Steve’s sneakers squeak as he trails behind you and you don’t need to be told where you need to go as you turn into Eddie’s classroom. At the sound of the door opening, your professor quickly stood from the desk he was sitting at doing some busy work. 

“What happened? Is everything alright?”

“Hey, look at me. Are you ok?”, the coach asks as you began to pace. 

“I’m ok. I just…hated that fucking asshole talking about my father.”

Eddie’s gaze shifts towards his boyfriend in confusion who tries to explain as best he can. 

“Dean Gillman is going to finish their investigation on what happened. Jared seems to believe his son is innocent but everyone will take Y/N’s side because her father was a hero.”

“I didn’t know that, sweetheart.”

“I-It’s ok. Most people don’t anymore and I’m not surprised with whatever you both were dealing with at the time that gave you those scars.” You force a smile as you dry the tears that started to fall. “My dad was a first responder. He was out in the field when the earthquake hit… They told my mother and I that he saved over 30 people before one of the buildings he was in…”

Eddie power walked towards you and pulled you into his arms as you cried, not caring if someone walked by and saw. Steve’s head hung as his eyes closed, remembering the chaos they came back to. He didn’t have time to focus on anything else except Eddie and Max when they found them. 

Afterwards, he and Robin did what they could to volunteer and help but he was ashamed to say he never heard the story of your dad. What killed him even more was that maybe your father would still be alive if he and the gang had gotten to Vecna sooner. He always carried that when it came to Eddie. Every time he kissed his scars or held him after a nightmare, Steve blamed himself. If he had been more careful, if he had fought harder with the vines before being pinned, if he had been better…

***

Eddie stood still as the bats began swarming around him. 

Suddenly, one screeched as it dived towards him and he blocked it expertly with his shield. 

“COME ON!”, he shouted at the sky as he continued to fight.

A scream caught his attention causing him to turn that way and squint through the horde surrounding him. You were being attacked as well but the creatures already had you pinned to the floor.

“Y/N?! I’m coming, sweetheart!”

He ran forward but was blocked by a bat that hit him in the chest pushing him backwards. As he continued to try, he was repeatedly stopped as he growled in frustration. 

“NO! Take me, you little fuckers! I deserve it! Leave her alone!”

“Eddie! Steve! Please, help me!”

A tail wrapped around his neck yanking him to the ground as a couple of others did the same with his wrists and ankles. 

“Y/N!”

His head swiveled in your direction as your own tilted and your body stopped moving.

You were gone.

“NO!”

Eddie’s shriek jolted Steve awake as he promptly sat up and attempted to calm his boyfriend. 

“Eddie! Eddie! You’re ok! Everything’s ok, baby!”

“Y/N…Y/N…we need to…where is she…”

“She’s in her dorm tonight, remember? She said she had to study for a test.”

“We need to make sure she’s ok. Vecna’s going to hurt her. Come on.”

“Honey, honey, honey. Vecna’s dead, it’s 2am, and I’m sure she’s safe in her bed.”

“I have to go check, Steve.”, he announced as he got out of bed and headed for the closet to find a shirt. 

“Ok, wait. I’ll call her so you can talk to her.”

“NO! You’re not listening! We need to make sure she’s ok!”

***

At 2:15 you were knocking on their door with an exhausted Steve swinging it open.

“I’m sorry. I tried to get him to call you so he could hear your voice but...”

As soon as you stepped into their house Eddie was on you, his shaking hands cupping your face. 

“Are you alright?!”

“Yeah, baby. I’m ok. Everything is ok.”, you coo in a soft tone as you bring your lips to his. 

“I saw you, Y/N.” His voice cracked as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I saw you in that place and the bats had you pinned. I couldn’t get to you. I tried…I tried to save you…”

“What place, Eddie? I don’t understand.”

 Dropping to his knees, he pressed his face into your stomach as he sobbed mumbling something you couldn’t understand. As you petted his head trying to comfort him, you glanced towards Steve who was now sitting on the edge of the couch with his elbows on his knees, his jaw tight as he glared at the wall trying to keep his emotions in check. 

“It’s ok, baby. I’m right here. No one is going to hurt me or you two. You’re safe, Eddie. Steve, honey, can you get me a pillow?”

Nodding, he disappeared before returning and handing you what you ask for. You thank him, tossing it to the floor, and guiding the metalhead gently down with you as you hold his head to your chest. Another pillow drops beside you and you are suddenly covered with a blanket as Steve descends to lay behind his boyfriend. 

After a while, Eddie became silent and you both realized he had finally fallen asleep. 

“Thank you for coming over.”

“Of course.”, you whisper as you reach over to caress Steve’s face. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m alright, honey. Thank you.”

“You can tell me the truth.”

The man sighs as he takes your hand in his and kisses your palm. 

“It’s been a while since he had nightmares that were this bad. He promised me he would tell me when they were getting worse again.” Your eyes scan his as you wait for him to continue. “We had an incident a few years ago where the nightmares were so bad he just refused to sleep. Scared the hell out of me.”

“What about you? Do you have nightmares?”

“Naw, not like his.”

“But you have them…”

Steve flashes you a smile as he shrugs. 

“It’s not a big deal. My ordeal wasn’t as bad as his.”

“So? Steve, you still have scars. Literally. Just because they aren’t as bad as his doesn’t mean what you went through didn’t hurt.” The coach heavily sighed as he scooted closer to Eddie and wrapped his arm around his waist. “I used to think the same way…after my father died. Everyone in town lost so much, their homes, livelihoods, children and other family members. I thought I had no right to grieve as long as I did…do… but then I realized that it was ok. There’s no timetable or measurement on grief or pain. It’s all valid.”

Leaning over his partner, Steve placed a tender kiss on your lips. 

“You’re really beautiful, you know that?”, he whispers making you smile as he lays back down and you both fall asleep.

################

Eddie stirred at the smell of something cooking, his eyes slowly opening as he realizes you’re no longer next to him. Rising to his feet, he pried Steve’s arm from his hip and went on the hunt for you, finding you in their kitchen. 

“Hey. How’d you sleep?”, you ask as his chocolate eyes take you in. 

Last night he was too in his own head to get a good look at you so he didn’t notice you came over in your pajamas and in that moment he realized he had never seen you in your own sleepwear. Usually, when you came over you were dressed as you were that day and fell asleep naked or in one of their shirts. 

Right now, you seemed extremely comfortable in your red flannel pants and two sizes too big hoodie with the campus insignia etched on the front. Your hair was up in a messy bun and your face didn’t have any of the makeup you normally wore. 

You were perfect. 

Coming up behind you, he wrapped his arms around your middle and you smiled as he rested his chin on your shoulder. 

“Thank you for coming over. I’m sorry if I scared you.”

As you lean into his embrace, you rest your arms over his. 

“You didn’t scare me. I was more worried than anything…about both of you.” Turning off the stove, you turned around to face him, cupping his cheeks to bring his lips to yours. “Do you want to tell me about your dream?”

You sigh as he kisses your forehead before letting you go and taking a seat at their table. Eddie doesn’t move or say anything as he listens to you shuffle around behind him. After placing a plate in front of him with a cup of coffee, you head to where Steve was still sleeping and he watches as you tenderly run your fingers through his hair. 

“Steve, baby. I made some food and coffee. Are you hungry?”

The man grunts out a cute uh-huh but as he reaches forward and finds no one his eyes widen as they fill with panic. 

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s ok. Eddie’s at the table already. He’s alright.”, you murmur as he nods. 

After taking a seat beside his boyfriend, he reaches for his hand and exhales heavily when the man squeezes it lightly and pulls away to grab his fork. Once you and Steve have your own plates, everyone silently nibbles on their food as an awkward silence hangs in the hair. 

You knew they were hiding things from you but you promised not to ask or push so you did what you could to be there ignoring your own worry as they silently struggled. Eddie seemed to be doing the same, silently struggling in his own head which bothered Steve out of his own worry and fear for the man he loved. But the coach held in things of his own saying he could handle it but as you watched him move food around his plate as his head hung, it was clear he couldn’t anymore.

“I’m afraid of water.”, you blurt causing both their eyes to shoot your way as you smile softly. “Not like water, water… I can swim in a pool and stuff but as long as my feet can touch the bottom. When I was little my dad took me to see Jaws and didn’t tell my mom. His thinking was ‘It’s PG so it can’t be that terrifying.’ I was apparently doing ok until the scene where the boy gets eaten. It’s funny even now I think of the stupid fins in the air and I just…” As you jokingly shudder, a smile spreads across their faces.

“After that moment, if I can’t see what’s below me…? No, thank you.”

“I didn’t know who Ozzy Osbourne was till I met Eddie.”, Steve says nonchalantly as he pretends to play with his food, grinning widely when you both laugh.

“Are you serious? Who doesn’t know him? I mean…if you don’t know his music at least you know him as the guy who bit a bat’s head off on stage!”

“Nope. No clue.”

“He’s a bit repressed, babe.”, Eddie cuts in. “Don’t worry. I’ve got him up to speed.”

“Iron Man is a good song. I know metalhead here can play the guitar for it.”

The long-haired boy flashes his partner a toothy grin as he leans back in his chair. 

“Um, I don’t know, I like D & D. I haven’t played in a while but…”

“I knew that about you. It’s still a very prominent club at Hawkins high just so you know.”, you giggle.

“Really? Were you a member?”

“No, God no. I have no idea how to do any of that.”

“Maybe…Maybe I can teach you.”, Eddie replies almost shyly making you blush. 

“I’d like that.”

His eyes lock with yours for a moment before abruptly leaning over the table kiss your lips. They had never met anyone like you let alone anyone who was as kind and adorable as you were being outside of their original friend group. Eddie knew he would never get you to understand how much they appreciated that but he would do whatever he could to protect you and make sure you were happy because you deserved it.

“Also Steve has never seen the movie version of your play.”

“Fucking tattletale.”, Steve joked as your wide, amused eyes met his. 

“Well, I know what we’re doing today.”

###############

You spent the entire day with them making them laugh and forgetting their worries. Eddie ordered a pizza from a restaurant you had never been to and Steve quickly ran out to rent Rocky Horror so you three could watch it. 

“So, you’re going to wear that teddy and lace, right, babe?”

“If that’s what you want, Steve Harrington.”, Eddie cooed playfully towards him. “Good luck finding that anywhere within Hawkins. I’m not even sure how Lilah is doing that.”

“She went on a road trip out of state and brought back some things.”, you grin. “Some of what she brought back doesn’t quite fit me so we’re trying to tailor them but I may need to go buy my own.”

“Can we help?”, the metalhead asks seductively as he crawls to where you were sitting on their floor. 

“Oh, of course.”

“If we go out of state we can take you on a date.” Both your gazes shift to the pretty boy who slides off the couch to lean against it beside you as Eddie sits up and crossed his legs. “I feel bad that we haven’t been able to do that.”

“It’s ok—”

“No, it’s not. We like you…a lot. We don’t want you to feel used.”

Leaning against his shoulder, you nudge your head against Steve like a cat saying hello.

“I like when you use me though.”

“Ah ah. Focus, honey.”, he chuckles as he pats your knee. 

“If we leave Hawkins you two can be intimate. You’ll be able to hold hands and stuff.”

“Oh yeah because everyone in the world is so accepting.”, Eddie smirks. “I’d still hold your hand and sloppily kiss you in public here if you wanted me to.”

Steve smiles tenderly as he caresses his cheek. 

“You’ve been through enough. I don’t want to rile up the down again and have them fucking trying to kill you.”

“Did that happen?”, you ask genuinely surprised. 

“I mean…I was on the run.”

“And? They shouldn’t be hurting you or trying to kill you. No matter what you’re being accused of.” You pause, deciding on if you should ask what you’re thinking. “Is that why you have nightmares? Is that why you say you don’t want to die?”

Both sets of eyes shifted your way as their eyebrows furrowed together.

“I heard you one night in the bathroom. Steve was trying to calm you down and you kept saying you didn’t want to die.”

Eddie fidgets with his fingers as he stares down at the carpet. 

“In my dreams, everything’s the same. I’m not too far from my trailer and the bats are swarming around me. I fight…I die. Last night I heard you screaming for us and I saw them pinning you to the ground…” Steve’s eyes close as he listens to the man he loves speak. “I couldn’t get to you. Those fuckers kept pushing me back every time I tried to run forward. Then you were gone…”

“It’s ok, Eddie, baby. I’m right here. Nothing bad is going to happen to me.”

“I sometimes dream about those bats. Thankfully Eddie and our friends got to me in time before… Most of my dreams are actually about us finding him and Max. If not that then those fucking Russian soldiers who beat the shit out of me.”

“W-What? Steve…I don’t…”

You listen with wide eyes as they talked, none of their words making any sense. You vaguely remembered Will Byers disappearing and suddenly being found, the mall fire, and of course everything with Eddie but the blanks they filled in just left you confused. 

“And that’s not even everything…but what I did just tell you could get us into serious trouble…”, Steve sighed as he dared to look your way. “When we got back everything in Hawkins was a mess but I had to get him to a hospital and be there for my friends. I didn’t even know about your father… I’m so sorry, Y/N. We…we did everything we could but…we were still too late.”

Silently, you rose to your feet and numbly headed for their front door. 

“Y/N, wait—”

As Eddie’s hand grabbed your arm, you turned your body and smacked his cheek.

“How dare you. Do-Do you two just need attention or did you think this was funny?!”

“Do you see us laughing?”, Steve exhales as he stands as well. “We don’t expect you to believe us but like we said we like you.”

“And we trust you.”

Shaking your head in disgust, you leave their home as you loudly slam the door shut.

#############

This time Steve was the one to wake up screaming with Eddie there to comfort him as he hadn’t been able to sleep. 

“It’s ok, babe. Everything’s ok.”

“Russians…Y/N was screaming…I couldn’t—”

“Get to her? Yeah.”

“Fuck.”, the man sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair. “What…What time is it?”

“Um, a little after 7am. Why?”

“The library is open. Can we…?”

After throwing on some clothes, Eddie drove them downtown to the library with his boyfriend in tow who silently stared out the window the whole way. No one seemed to be there which they appreciated, not wanting to be around anyone as they struggled with the computer in front of them. 

“I don’t know how this fucking thing…”

“I got it, sweetheart. Let me see what I can find.” Steve leaned his head against Eddie’s shoulder not caring in that moment if anyone saw. He was so grateful he was there and knew what he needed without having to say a word. “There he is. It looks like the mayor’s office did a whole tribute for people that were lost that day.”

Both men stared at the image of your dad in his firefighter uniform as the metalhead softly read the caption underneath.

“Fredrick Y/L/N, firefighter first responder, died March 27, 1986, after saving thirty people that were stranded in a nearby housing facility after the earthquake shook Hawkins. The building he was in was unstable but managed to clear the structure before it came down. The residents tried to save him but were unable.”

“Jesus.”, Steve exhaled as Eddie continued to scroll. 

“Steven, look. There she is.”

As he points to screen, they both take in your sad little face as you stand beside your mom who was accepting your dad’s metal of heroism from the new mayor. 

“I didn’t want to be there.” Even though you’re whispering, both men are startled by the sound of your voice as you step closer. Your eyes were just as hollow as theirs, as if you to hadn’t gotten much if any sleep. “My mom said I had to but I just wanted to stay in bed. The mayor and people in town kept talking to us and thanking us. I kept thinking ‘What for? My dad was the one who did anything.’ I guess it just made people feel better.”

Pulling up a chair, you sit behind them, and dig through your backpack before producing a few photocopied articles you had found the evening prior before the librarian kicked you out to close. One had the wanted photo of Eddie that had been placed around town as well as the defaced pictures of his Missing Person posters. Another someone must have snuck in to take had the metalhead in a hospital bed, handcuffed to the rail, and hooked up to so many machines.

One article was about the fire at the mall with a photo of the building. Within the EMS van in the background was a younger Steve with a bloody face and a blanket wrapped around his arms. The other papers in your hand, you flipped through quickly displaying stories of corruption in Hawkins, the shutdown of the lab, and people mysteriously disappearing.

Taking a hold of everything, Steve slid them back into your backpack and gestured for you to follow them out the front door. Silently, Eddie opened the back door to his van and reached for your hand to help you in before jumping in behind you. The other man took his keys, starting the car, and drove out of the parking lot. 

***

When you woke up, you were still in the back of their van but you had fallen asleep in Eddie’s arms utilizing one as a pillow as his steady breathing warmed the back of your neck. The doors were open as Steve sat on the edge staring out into a field you didn’t recognize.

Sliding out of the metalhead’s embrace, you crawled to the end and placed yourself beside the other boy.

“Where are we?”

“Trailer Park.”, he answered without looking your way. “After the earthquake, they moved everyone way from the area because it was so close to one of the cracks. Since it cut through their trailer, they left it here.” He gestured in front of him towards the structure that was practically cut in half. 

Words were graffitied along the side that read “Freak” and “Murderer” and the windows that you could see were smashed open.

“This is where Chrissy died.”, Eddie whispered as he crawled over to sit next to you. “I tried to save her but…”

“How long were you in the hospital?”

“Over a month. They were pretty sure I wasn’t going to make it. Stevie here stayed with me and checked on me every day or so I was told.”, he smiled. “When I woke up, I was terrified but he was there.”

“When Hopper came back, he helped clear his name but obviously this town has a mind of their own.”, Steve added. 

“Why do you stay?”

“We’re pretty sure Vecna is gone and never coming back…that all the evil he brought with him has disappeared but…Eddie and I decided a long time ago that we would stay and protect people if we were wrong.”

“The same people that called him a murderer? That demean you and hurt you both?”

“It’s more than that, Y/N. There are A LOT of good people here to…people like you.”

Your palm reached out to caress Eddie’s face as he smiled, placing his hand over yours. 

“I’m sorry I hit you.”

“It’s alright.”, he shrugs. “I would have been shocked if you immediately believed us, honestly.”

The hand you had on his cheek trailed down the man’s chest and lingered at the hem of his shirt. Pausing for only a moment, he lifted it over his head and allowed you get a good look with new eyes. 

“Now I see why you like to take control.”, you smirked making him smile as well. “Eddie, baby, I’m so sor—”

His palms grabbing your cheeks and bringing your lips to his cut you off as he passionately kissed you, guiding you onto your back as he grinds his lower half against yours. 

In hurried, needy motions, he yanked down your pants and panties, tossing them to the side before pressing his face into your cunt. As his lips and tongue devoured you, Steve fell by your side, lifting off your shirt, and kissing you at a much delicate pace than his partner as his palm roamed your breast. 

Both their actions felt completely different than how they normally were with you so you decided to do something different as well as your hand tangled into Eddie’s messy hair.

“Oh my God, Eddie. That f-feels so good.” 

Pushing up on your elbows, you watched as Steve’s mouth trailed down your stomach before the metalhead tilted upward so he could kiss his boyfriend’s lips. Besides that one time, they were rarely intimate in front of you when you three played but seeing them now after hearing their story had you clenching around Eddie’s fingers as he slid them into your pussy. 

The long-haired man continued kissing any part of him he could reach as the pretty boy began sucking at your clit while your hand petted his head. 

“Fuck, Steve, just like that.”

When Eddie’s tongue replaced his digits, you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. Both their organs flicking against you was an overwhelming sensation you had never experienced before. Your body trembled and shook as you came, your hands clinging to any piece of them you could as you floated back down to earth. 

Quickly with fumbling fingers, Eddie unbuckled his belt and pushed down his jeans enough to free his cock before guiding it into your dripping core. He seemed lost in the feeling of you as he almost aggressively thrust his hips, pounding his length deep inside you.

“E-Eddie, please. Slow…slow down.”

All of a sudden, his head shot up as his eyes found yours.

“I-I’m not hurting you am I?”

“No, no, baby. I just…need you to go…a little slower…at first. I’m sorry.”, you whimper.

Flashing you a gentle smile, he brings his lips to yours as he does what you ask. 

“I’M sorry, sweetheart. Whenever we…we talk about this stuff…we both tend to get…”

“It’s ok. I understand. I just… both your cocks are so big.”

The breathy laugh/whine that leaves Eddie has you softly giggling as well. 

“How is that both sexy and adorable coming out of your mouth?”, he beams. “Ok, pretty girl. I’ll go slow.” As he continues to wait, you glance over his shoulder watching as Steve grips the man’s hips and scrunches his nose in pleasure as he slides into his entrance. “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Eddie falls flat against you, his arms resting on either side of you head as he groans into your ear and starts gradually thrusting. A palm caresses your cheek and you shift your gaze to the other boy as you kiss the pad of his thumb.

“Fuck, you both feel so good. Cum, baby. I need to feel it. I need to feel you.”

Nodding, you gave him the ok to pick up his pace and he obliged, pounding his hips into your own while he sucked and kissed the sweet spot on your neck. Chanting his name, you shudder as you came. Eddie slowed his rhythm as he fucked you through it, your pants warming his mouth as he rested his forehead against yours. 

“Good girl.”

With heavy eyes, you watched and whined when the metalhead pulled out, smirking slightly when they switched places.

Steve’s tongue mingled with yours as he kissed your lips, maneuvering himself between your legs, and moaning as he effortlessly entered your heat. Leaning his head on yours, he loudly mewls as his boyfriend guides his cock into him and slowly pumps his hips. 

“Thank you.”, Steve whimpers under his breath as he rolls his waist between you both. 

“F-For what, baby. Tell me.”

“Mmm—f-for believing us. For—fuck—carrying another one of our secrets. We don’t deserve you.” He whispers out his last sentence quickly as he thrusts himself into you a bit faster and harder. 

“Yes, you do Steve. After everything you both went through—shit—make me cum. Please.  

Clinging to your body, he pressed his nose into your cheek as he hit that sensitive spot inside of you repeatedly while Eddie hit his when he bounced back against him. Your back arched as the coil snapped and Steve came with you, his humid breath hitting your skin as he filled you up with his release. Ringed fingers gripped his shoulders as the metalhead slammed his hips roughly into his boyfriend before falling onto his back as he pumped his spend into him.

Eddie falls beside you as Steve climbs between the seats in search of something to clean you with. 

“Edward Munson.”

“Hmmm Steven Harrington.”

“Why are there no napkins or tissues in your van?”

“You keep blaming me for these things when again, babe, I wasn’t prepared to be fucking in my van.”

“Honey, how many times have we fooled around in here?”

You giggle at there banter as you reach for your backpack and dig into one of the pockets to produce a tissue. 

“As a girl, I feel I always have to be prepared.” After he cleans you, you sit up and glance out into the field where the cut in half trailer rests. “Where does your family live now?”

“Um, they gave my uncle a small little home a few miles down the way. When I got out of the hospital, I stayed with him till Steve and I got our place.”

“And your parents?”

“Another time, baby. Let’s get back home and get some rest.”

Eddie smiles as he kisses your forehead and climbs into the driver’s seat while Steve sits on the passenger’s side but turns his body to face you both. 

“I promise that secret is safe with me. No matter what happens.”

Both men’s eyes meet before the metalhead starts the car and begins to drive. You didn’t clarify but they knew what you meant. If anyone found out about you three or something happened where you couldn’t be together you would remain silent on everything they had told you. That particular fear was always in the back of their minds to. 

After putting on your shirt and panties, you crawled into the gap between their seats and leaned your head against Eddie’s thigh as you reached out to hold Steve’s hand. Tenderly he kissed the back of it, while the metalhead brought his own palm down to play with your hair.

###############

As your alarm went off that following Monday, you stayed completely frozen in bed. That Sunday morning prior, you awoke to an empty house and a note telling you that your car was outside and your things were by the door whenever you were ready to leave. 

You were unsure of what to do. Do you leave your number? Do you wait and confront them? Did they just want this to be a one-time thing? Were you supposed to pretend nothing happened? 

Now with the new week starting, you had brand new concerns like if Martin would be in class and what would he even say or do? 

Braving the outside world, you got dressed and headed for your first class. As you stepped inside, you were thankful Martin wasn’t there but your bliss was short lived when a hand lightly but firmly ushered you forward. 

“Find a seat Miss Y/L/N.”, Eddie commands without so much as a cursory glance your way as he heads towards his desk. As the class continues, he avoids your eyes, choosing to look anywhere else as he speaks making you feel extremely self-conscious as you hug your arms around your body. 

“Alright, you guys are free. Get out of here. Miss Y/L/N, can you stay behind please?”

“Yeah, of course.”

While you wait for the class to leave, your eyes take in his slightly agitated frame. His hair was a bit more messy than normal and his clothes were not as put together as before. The aroma of cigarettes was heavier around him and even as you slowly walked towards his desk at the front of the room, he still didn’t look your way. 

“D-D-Did I do something wrong?”

“Uh, no, Y/N; Steve and I did.” When his beautiful hues finally met yours, they seemed so hollow as if he hadn’t slept. “What happened was a mistake and can’t…WON’T…happen again. To avoid any further confusion, I would recommend you get a transfer to another literature class or drop my class entirely. I’d be more than happy to sign a form for you.”

Your eyes widen as he speaks completely thrown off guard. You could understand if they wanted it to be a one-time thing but to say it was a mistake…that hurt.

“I don’t want to drop or transfer.”, you whisper. 

“Yeah, well, this isn’t just about you, sweetheart.”, he responded curtly making you angry.

“Fuck you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Fuck you. If you didn’t want me you should have just took me back home.”

“Forgive us for considering your feelings and shit. We wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“By fucking me like a whore!”

“Lower…your…voice.”, Eddie growled as he started to step around his desk, pausing when you backed away.

“I didn’t think it was a mistake.”, you mumble.

The professor chuckled condescendingly as he folded his arms over his chest. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to, little girl, but like I said, WE fucked up. Go back to your pathetic little life and forget about us.”

“Did you give Chrissy Cunningham the same option?”, you sass under your breath, immediately regretting your words when his chocolate irises shift your way and you see the pain behind them. 

“HEY!”

You jump at Steve’s booming voice as he enters the classroom and promptly hang your head feeling like a small child getting caught saying a bad word. His presence towers heavily over you as he places himself just inches in front of your frame. 

“That’s your professor and MY partner. You will show him respect.”

Blinking away tears, you find the courage to meet his equally annoyed gaze.

“Or what? You’ll punish me? I’m a mistake according to your partner!”

Grabbing your arm tightly, the coach starts shoving you towards Eddie’s office in the back corner with the professor himself slamming it closed behind him. 

“Lower your goddamn voice.” Sighing, he turned to his boyfriend. “Did you tell her?”

“I emphasized that we made a mistake but she doesn’t seem to agree.”

“Why are you doing this? Did you…I thought…was I that bad?”, you ask in a small voice that shatters their hearts to pieces and falters their hardened demeanors. 

“No, Y/N—”

“I don’t understand then. I thought you were attracted me.”

“We were…are…—”

“Were you just using me? Is that why you two were gone when I woke up?”

“STOP INTERRUPTING ME! Jesus Christ! I’m trying to fucking tell you something here! You did NOTHINGwrong. Do you hear me? Nothing. Eddie was right. You’re a twenty something student who’s so fucking beautiful she deserves to be seen and live her fucking life! We’ve been hiding for 10 years, Y/N, I assure you it’s no picnic.”

“Sweetheart, we liked being with you and not just the sex the part. It was nice to feel needed for once… but like he said…It’s not just because you’re a student. There’s so much more to it. You deserve better.”

Wiping your eyes, you nod as you stand up straighter. 

“You could have just said that… Um, I’m sorry for what I said to you, Mr. Munson and giving you both attitude. I-I-I would like to stay in the class please. I promise I won’t…make trouble.”

Eddie nods as you flash them a small smile and quickly run out the door to collect your things. 

#############

The next month went by with little to note as you floated through your days. Eddie barely looked your way during class and when you ran on the track Steve was never there. The one time you did see him was as Martin’s father was stomping out of the locker room and you got a glimpse of the coach fuming in his office.

Focusing on your production, you continued to rehearse your lines repeatedly till you had them down to a T but when it came to your scenes with the boy playing Rocky you found yourself slightly nervous and it wasn’t just because he was gorgeous to look at. 

Every time he glanced your way during any scene he was in made you blush. One day, you were doing a dress rehearsal with him wearing only gold boxers and you with your bra, panties, and a lab coat. When he walked out your eyes immediately ran over his delicious looking abs before averting your eyes so you didn’t get caught. 

“Brad. Janet. What do you think of my creation?” 

“Oh, well, I don’t like a man with too much muscle.”

The boy beamed in your direction before ducking his head like he was supposed to. As soon as you finished, you expected him to disappear to quickly put on some clothes but he lingered behind with you on stage.

“You’re really good at all this.”, he grins as he gestures around the auditorium.

“Oh, um, thank you. I haven’t seen you in any of my classes or any other productions. Are you a theater kid or did you just transfer?”

“Naw, the school said I had to have some kind of arts credit and I thought this would be fun. Mrs. Lilah comes to the arcade that I work at sometimes so I know she’s a cool, easy-going lady…kind of like you…but not as pretty.”

You giggle as you push some hair behind your ear and he smiles. 

“Can I, um, may I have your number?”

After giving it to him, his smile grows as he extends his hand out to you. 

“I’m Theodore but my friend’s call me Theo.”

“Y/N.” 

As your hand connects with his, he playfully bows and kisses the back of it. 

“I’ll talk to you later.”

You grin as you watch him run off stage but it’s wiped clean off your face when you turn to grab some of your things, coming face to face with Eddie who had been watching your interaction from one of the rows in the auditorium while your teacher was talking to him. 

*** 

Throughout the week, Eddie began appearing at all the rehearsals and the last few times he brought Steve with him. You ignored them as best you could, doing your scenes and listening to what your director was telling you. 

It wasn’t until the evening you had your scene with you ‘naked’ in the container with Theo that they said a word. 

“Hey Liliah! Are you sure this play is a good idea? I mean having them getting caught being intimate and then you have two students that close together in front of an audience…like that.”, Eddie critiqued as you pretend to not be listening.

“Huh. Out of all the people in Hawkins I thought you would condone this more. Its expression and these students are consenting adults. Y/N! Theo! Do you two feel uncomfortable about the scene right now?”

“No ma’am.”, the boy responds with zero hesitation. 

“No ma’am. I feel extremely comfortable and safe next to Theo here.”, you coo as you lean your head on his shoulder and he in turn wraps his arm around you.

As the night came to a close and you gathered your things behind the curtain, you were surprised to hear both men’s voices as they continued to sit in the auditorium.

“I fucking hate this, I hope you know that.”

“I know but we both agreed this was best.”, Steve exhaled heavily. 

“Fuck, every time his hands touch her I just wanna—“, Eddie growls as his partner chuckles.

“Yeah and every time she allows it, I wish I could just throw her over my knee. You know she’s getting off on it though; making us jealous.”

“Well, it’s working because I want to fuck her so hard and make her scream my name repeatedly till she fucking remembers who she belongs to.”

A small groan leaves your lips at his words. You desperately wanted that to but they pushed you away. Theo seemed like a good man and if they insisted on not being with you there wasn’t much you could do. 

############

Sitting in the bleachers Friday night, you clung to Theo’s hand as you two watched the football game unfold. Since Martin was removed from the team, Steve had a new quarterback in play and everyone was talking about it. Every missed throw or tackle had him growing angrier as he paced back and forth fuming. 

People around you speculated what could have happened and parents condemned him for removing his star player from the team. If only they knew… Hell they’d probably take Martin’s side. Everyone in the town had a backwards way of thinking.

“Hey, are you alright?”, Theo asked, not realizing that you had squeezed his palm tighter. 

“Yeah, just, um…hearing people talk…”

“About what happened with Martin?”, he inquired with a low tone so no one would hear. “The game’s almost over. Do you want to go for a walk?”

He grins when you nod, leading you down the row and towards campus. 

“I’m sorry you went through that. Guy is a fucking dick.”

“Yeah, he is, but…”

“But nothing. Just because he’s king badass or whatever doesn’t mean he can hurt you like that. Have you heard anything yet from like the dean or anyone?”

“No, not yet. I haven’t even see Martin. I’m terrified what he’s going to do when we do run into each other.”

“I’ll protect you.”

“Oh, you will, huh?”, you smile as he flashes you his own.

“I will, babe. These abs just aren’t show!”, Theo chuckles. “So, um, are you like Janet? Are you not into guys with muscles?”

Biting your bottom lip, you blush as he grabs your arm to stop you two from walking down the hall. 

“Because I can get some flab if you want me to. I can gain like a sexy paunch and—”

You laugh before tilting up on your toes to tenderly kiss his lips. 

“I think you’re sexy just as you are.”

Theo’s hand slides behind your neck and brings your lips back to his, kissing you with much more passion as he walks you back into a classroom. Feeling something hard against your back, the boy doesn’t miss a beat as he lifts you onto the desk and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you as he grinds his hips against yours. 

“I’m not…moving…too fast am I?”, he pants between kisses causing you to vigorously shake your head. “Good…your lips…taste really…really fucking good.”

“HEY!”

You both jump apart as Eddie and Steve angrily enter the classroom. 

“The fuck do you think this is?! A bedroom!?”, your professor shouts. “Sex and making out on campus is prohibited but it’s definitely forbidden on my fucking desk.”

Glancing around the room, you realize you were in his classroom.

Shit.

“I swear, Mr. Munson, we didn’t know this was your room?”

“So, that makes it better?”, Steve snaps sharply. “You disrespecting other people’s property by grinding on it?”

“No, sir.”

“Please Mr. Munson, Coach Harrington, this isn’t her fault. I brought her in here—”

“She doesn’t have a mind of her own? From what I saw she was a willing participant.”, Eddie cut him off. “Get out of my sight and be lucky we don’t tell the dean or Lilah about this.”

“Yes, sir, thank you.”

Taking your hand in his, Theo starts to lead you to the door before Steve grabs your bicep.

“No. Don’t want you both leaving together and ending up in another room on campus. You can wait a few minutes, Miss Y/L/N.”

As soon as the door shuts and your date leaves, the coach tugs you roughly towards the office before Eddie bangs the door behind him.

“I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t know—”

“Face the wall.”, the coach commanded, growling when you hesitate. “I said face the wall and place your hands against it.” 

Slowly, you do as he says, gasping when he roughly takes hold of your hips and brings them out more before lifting your skirt to expose your panty covered ass.

“I’m surprised she has panties on. Fucking little slut seemed so desperate for his cock.” Steve’s palm came down hard and you jerked forward at the feeling. “Don’t move! Keep your ass out.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Harrington.”

In quick succession, he spanked you a couple more times, his hand grabbing at your flesh before delivering another. Fingers aggressively yank down your underwear and he spanks you again. 

“Jesus, Ed, look at her. Fucking pussy is dripping. You’re so fucking needy aren’t you, little girl.” When you didn’t respond, he hit your behind much harder than before. “Answer me!”

“Yes…yes, sir, I’m a needy girl. Ahhhh…”, you whine as he hits you again.

Hearing him back away and shuffle around behind you causes you to turn your head but he immediately forces your face forward with his palm as he smushes your cheek into the wall. 

“Don’t fucking look at me. You want to be a whore? We can treat you like a whore, Y/N.”

Running his tip through your folds, he guides himself into your entrance and sets a brutal pace allowing you no time to adjust like they had before. Out of the corner of your eye, you see one of his hands fall on the other side of your head as his other spanks you before gripping your hips.

“Is this what you—mmph—what you fucking wanted, little girl? You think that little boy can fuck you better? Huh?”

“No—mmm—no, Mr. Harrington.”

“That’s fucking right.”, Steve grunts as he slows his rhythm but not his intensity as he slams his cock deep inside you.

“Oh…Oh my god.”

“Yeah, you little slut? That’s the spot. I know, baby. I know how to please desperate, needy things like you.”

“I…I don’t…understand…”, you whine.

“What? What doesn’t your dumb little brain understand? Why you’re being punished?”

“Yeeeesss. This is what you—fuck—what you wanted.”

Pulling out, he spun you around, hooking his arm under the back of your knee to lift your leg and slides his length back inside of you.

“This is what we wanted? For you to fuck some other guy on Eddie’s desk? To…to touch him on stage while you’re practically fucking naked?”

Your hands tug on his hair forcing him to meet your lust filled gaze.

“I-I wanted you two.”

Your mouth falls open in a silent moan as you cling to the base of the neck and cum hard around him. Steve’s head falls onto your shoulder as he pounds his cock harder into your cunt chasing his release before gripping your hair tightly in his fingers and pushing you to your knees. 

“Open!” You do what he says, moaning as he forces his dick into your mouth. “Look at me! Don’t take those eyes off me.” When your irises meet his honey ones, they flutter slightly as he thrusts his cock down your throat. “Th-That’s it, baby. I want this burned into that dumb little brain of yours. MMM! That way when you’re on your knees for him, you think of me.”

Steve grunts and his grip tightens as he spills down your throat. Your eyes never leave his as you swallow every drop he gives you. 

As soon as he steps back and out of the way, Eddie’s on you, lifting you to your feet and manhandling you to the couch against the wall of his office. Spreading your legs open wide, you groan loudly as he shoves his face into your pussy, open mouth kissing between your folds as his tongue flicks your clit.

“P-Please…Please, Mr. Munson.”

Your hands try to tangle in his hair but he promptly grabs your wrist and holds it against the sofa. Tilting back, he spits into your hole before maneuvering his cock out of his jeans and guiding it into your heat. 

“No, little girl. You don’t get to fucking touch me. Your hands have been all over your new boyfriend.”, he says with disgust as he rolls his hips hard making his length slam roughly into that spongy spot inside you. “Fuck, sweetheart. Have you fucked him yet?”

When you don’t answer, his palm spanks you hard. 

“No.”

“No what.”, he growls as he hits you again.

“N-No, sir.”

“Shame. I’d love to—mmph fuck—know what that little fucker says when he realizes you’re ruined.”, Eddie spits as he pumps into you a bit faster. “You begged us to, baby, remember? To split you in half a-and stretch you open. Fuck. Still so fucking tight for us but little prick like him…”

“Eddie…”

Leaning down to hover over you, the metalhead grips your throat tightly between his ringed fingers.

“You say it correctly, whore. You’re in MY office in MY classroom.”

“F-Fuck…I’m sorry, Mr. Munson…feels so…good..”

“I know, baby. I know it feels good. You know what didn’t? Watching you flirt and swoon over that asshole on stage. Watching him touch you and you not pull away. Didn’t take you long to move on from us. What did—mmm—we fucking expect. You’re meant to be a toy, Y/N. Just a fucking slut for men like us to use.”, he growls in anger, completely oblivious to the tears that had begun to fall from your eyes. 

“Yellow.” Your word comes out barely above a whisper; so small you’re surprised he heard it. Eddie lifted his head as his movements stopped, his eyes scanning your face as he blinks back his anger and worry replaces it. “I didn’t move on. I wanted you…I liked being with you. You pushed me away… Y-You said so many mean things after class…”

Your professor sighs as his forehead falls on yours.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so fucking sorry for hurting you. Can I make you feel good? Can you say it?”, he requests when all you do is nod. 

“Yes, sir, you can keep going.”

When he starts thrusting into you again, it’s much gentler than before. 

“We didn’t use you that night, Y/N. Fuck, you have no idea how much we still think about you.”

“We talk about you at night while we’re in bed.”, Steve adds in low, soft voice behind your head. “It almost always leads to us playing with each other as we talk about how tight you were or how much your whimpers made us hard.”

Your eyes flutter closed at their words as Eddie picks up his rhythm once again. 

“Shit. You feel so good. We-We don’t just talk about your body but we like how kind you are and so fucking smart, princess. I love reading your essays about the books I assign. You have this—oh my—this unique view of the world…”

“Why-Why did you push me away?”

Falling flat against you, he clings to you back as he rolls his hips and his cock pushes impossibly deep inside of you. 

“Because this is wrong, honey.”, Steve answers for him. “So fucking wrong but…fuck…watching you with that kid…”

“You’re ours, sweetheart. Fuck, baby, cum.” Grinding your waist, you thrust up to meet his movement till you feel your body tremble as the coil breaks. “Good girl, Y/N. Good girl.”

It doesn’t take long for Eddie to follow and his eyes squeeze shut as you feel him warm your insides. 

Nobody speaks as he pulls out of you and grabs your hand to help you sit up, petting your head as you wince slightly at the pain in your behind. Steve quickly comes between your legs and cleans you, tenderly kissing your knee when you whine at the soreness.

Both their heads hang when he comes back to take a seat beside you.

“D-Did you guys win?”, you ask, sighing when the coach shakes his head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.”

“Steve…” Your gaze shifts his way as he mumbles his name. “You can call me Steve when we aren’t out there or playing.”

“I’m sorry we made you uncomfortable, Y/N.”, Eddie exhales. “We didn’t mean to be so rough. We’re just…passionate people.”

“That’s an interesting way to say you were jealous.”, you tease as they smile. “It wasn’t the roughness. I like rough. It was the implication that…you used me solely to get off that night…After what you said to me in class, it just…hurt my feelings.”

“I understand. I’m sorry, baby.”

“We’re just trying to—”

“Protect me, I know. I just don’t understand from what. At first I thought it was because your faculty and I’m a student but then you said it was because I deserve to be seen… yet here we are… and I still feel you…pulling away. What aren’t you two telling me?”

“Did you just interrupt me again? Jesus Christ. IS it me? Am I just not as intimidating as him?”, Steve tries to joke and deflect.

“Does it involve what happened with Chrissy Cunningham?”

The metalhead grumbled as he exhaled, turning to face you with a newfound fire in his eyes. 

“We gave you rules that first night, remember? Don’t ask about our scars. Maybe that rule deserves some expansion. Don’t ask about what happened 10 years ago AT ALL. Not only do we not want to talk about it but we CAN’T talk about it. If that’s a fucking problem then we can fully end this thing now. No little games or what happened tonight. Hell, I’ll even tell the dean myself what I did so he can fire me.”

At this declaration, Steve growls and when you glance his way you’re surprised to see annoyance, not towards you but to his partner. 

“Ok, I understand, Eddie. I won’t ask any questions anymore but I need you to know…whatever happened I’m not afraid. I never thought you did anything to them and I trust you both. I know they say Hawkins is cursed but I feel like it’s more the people here that are said curse. I’ve been bullied most of my life by people like Martin. These backwards citizens condemning you for no reason and then hurting Steve because he’s your friend… it’s bullshit. I’m sorry you went through that and if anything happens again I’ll defend you.”

“We know, honey. That’s what worries us.”

“You don’t want to go through what we did, Y/N, trust me. We don’t want you to experience the pain and loss we have.”

“You’re implying my life has been devoid of pain and loss up to this point.”, you breathily laugh causing them to exchange a concerned glance. “I, uh, I should head back to my dorm. Theo’s probably calling to make sure I’m not dead. He really is a nice guy.”

“Do you want to come back to our house? You can take a bath and we can make you some dinner.”, Eddie offers nervously.

“Decide now. I can’t go back and forth with you two. If you want me to be yours I can be that. But if you’re going to push me away again or I’m going to wake up alone, I’d rather go back to my single dorm room and call the guy that seems to genuinely like me and isn’t afraid to say so.”

“We aren’t afraid, Y/N. This right here is more complicated than all that but we aren’t afraid to say we like you.”, Steve answered as he rose to his feet, reaching for your hand to help you do the same. “Can we take this one step at a time? Don’t forget, this is new for us to and a lot more is on the line. We could lose our careers and reputation.”

“And I don’t have much of one in this town to begin with.”, the metalhead joked making Steve roll his eyes. 

“You’re willing to put all that on the line for me?”

“Of course.”, they responded in unison with zero hesitation making you grin. 

“I did it for Eddie countless times and I’d do it again.”, the coach coos as he grabs the man’s cheeks and brings his lips to his own.

“Ok…one step at a time.”

##############

“I fucking hate schools.”, you grumble under your breath as you hit snooze on your alarm for the fifth time that morning. The beginning of your junior year spring semester at Hawkins University started today but the idea of getting out of bed sounded exhausting. In Hawkins, everyone was in everyone else’s business and being the bigger girl some of the jocks felt the need to butt in more than anyone else. 

“Hey Y/N. Did you put on more weight this summer? Those jeans look like they’re about to pop!”

“Should you be eating that, piggy? Maybe try a salad every now and then.”

You thought when you left high school, you wouldn’t have to deal with this crap anymore but unfortunately some of it followed you to college. 

When you finally made it to your first class it was right before it began so you could avoid any unwanted conversation. You weren’t so lucky.

“Heeeeeeey, Y/N.”, football star Martin Click cooed obnoxiously as he leaned towards you from his seat above yours. “I was hoping we’d have some classes together, piggy. I missed you over the summer. You couldn’t bother to dress up for me?”

“Oh, sorry Martin, if I had known we would be sharing a class I would have made myself uglier but unfortunately for me that’s impossible since I’m so fucking sexy. Maybe you can tutor me on how to be a sloppy asshole.”

The breathy laugh that echoed to your ears caught you off guard as you glanced up towards the front of the classroom and met the chocolate eyes of your new Literature & Writing professor. 

“I’m sorry.”, you whisper as red paints your face.

“No, no. No reason to be sorry. I thought it was a good comeback.”, he grinned making you blush even more. “Mr. Click, should I tell Coach Harrington that you’re more focused on ladies attire than my class or are we going to behave this semester?”

Rolling his eyes, Martin leaned back in his chair making the professor smugly smirk as he winked in your direction. 

“As I’m sure ya’ll are aware, I’m professor Munson and if you’re here because of my reputation then I will kindly ask you to leave. I’m not here to talk about my past or my family history.”

You had heard rumors about Eddie Munson and of course knew all about him being on the run back when you were little. You parents never let you leave the house or play outside for fear that the “satanic Hawkins killer” would snatch you up and make you his next victim. As you grew up and read more about what happened, it seemed less to you like he did anything at all and obviously the chief agreed because Mr. Munson was never tried or did any prison time. 

No, you weren’t interested in his past. You were interested in the things he could teach you. After overhearing one of his lectures, you were fascinated with the way he told a story and explained the material. He got so animated to an adorable degree and as a theater major you thought it would be fun to see how he interpreted literature while getting the final English credit you needed. 

When no one moved he smiled and began talking about usual first day things such as the syllabus and what to expect over the semester. After the class had ended and everyone left, you stayed behind and quietly made your way to his desk. 

“Hey, um, I’m sorry if I was rude or—”

“I didn’t think you were rude. If anything, he was and definitely needed to be put in his place.”, he interrupted without looking your way as he sorted through papers in front of him. “You’re Y/N, right?”

“Yes, sir. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen some of the plays you were in on campus here. I dragged my friend to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream and you actually got him to pay attention.”, Mr. Munson smiled as he finally lifted his head to look your way. “You were very good.”

“Oh, um, thank you very much. That means a lot coming from you.” He tilts his head at your comment as blush fills your cheeks again. “I just meant I’ve seen some of your lectures before and you’re an amazing storyteller. You excite me, I mean you make me want to pay attention to, I mean… ok, let’s pretend I just left right after class and didn’t just embarrass myself.”

Hugging your books to your chest, you power walk out the door as his chuckle fills your ears. 

***

With a break between periods, you hastily headed for the gym after lunch to change and get out on to the track by the field. Contrary to popular belief, you were fairly athletic despite your size and enjoyed letting off steam as you pumped your legs as fast as they could take you.

As your music blared loudly in your ears, the feeling of eyes watching you grabbed your attention towards the bleachers where Coach Harrington was standing with his arms crossed and leaning to the side as Professor Munson balanced his arm on his shoulder, murmuring something to him as their eyes followed you. 

Trying to block them out, you continued to focus on the path in front of you but was blindsided when a football whizzed past your nose almost hitting you.

“Whoa! Sorry, piggy. Have to keep your eyes open around here.”, Martin laughs as you roll your eyes. 

Glancing their way, you noticed both men were standing straighter as if prepared to defend you if needed. You weren’t a weak little girl and for whatever reason you strongly felt like you needed to show them that. As you pick up the football one of the players lifts his hands running towards you as if expecting you to not be able to throw it but at the last minute you throw a perfect spiral to their coach who doesn’t even hesitate as he lifts his hands and catches it seamlessly from the air. 

“Well, shit, gentlemen. Looks like I have a new passer.”

“Oh, no thank you, Coach Harrington. If I ever played a sport it would be with a team that doesn’t suck.”

Again, Mr. Munson snicked through his teeth as the man he was leaning on flashed you a big grin. 

#############

That night you decided to run after hours, thinking you would be alone but were surprised when you saw Coach Harrington on the track. 

“Shit! Sorry, you scared the hell out of me.”, he nervously chuckled. 

“I’M sorry. I thought no one would be out here.”

“Yeah, normally there aren’t.”, he teased raising an eyebrow at you. “Well, don’t let me stop you.”

As he took off continuing to jog, you pushed your headphones on your head and started your run. After a couple of laps with you in your zone, your feet abruptly slipped out from under you as you tumbled forward onto the gravel.

“Whoa!”, Coach Harrington shouted in concern as he ran to your side and kneeled down. “Are you alright?”

“Ow. Yeah, I just…tripped. Fuck that hurt.”

“Let me see.” Without any hesitation, his hand gripped your leg and looked it over. “Oof, you may have a pretty good bruise there but you should be alright.” Rising to his feet, he extended his hand to you to help you up which you eagerly accepted while he gripped you tightly and led you towards the bleachers. “You must have been deep in thought because you passed me a couple of times and didn’t even turn your head.”

“I did? Yeah, I’m sorry. I just have some things on my mind.”

“No, I know what you mean. Eddie—Professor Munson told me what happened in his class. If any of those guys bother you again, please let me know. I’ll make them run laps or even sit them out of a game if I have to. Nothing scares these kids more than not being able to play.”

You knew of Steve Harrington mostly because of his parents. The Harrington’s were prominent members of the community and very well respected. In your high school there had been pictures of him from his days on the basketball and swim team when he was a student. 

After he graduated, other rumors began to circulate about him spending time with the “freaks of Hawkins” but who cares. Not you especially since you had been labeled a freak since elementary. 

“I, um, I hope you didn’t take offense to what I said. Your team doesn’t suck just…some of your players. I mean, not their playing ability just their personalities. FUCK, why can’t I talk today?”

His smile widens as he laughs from his gut making you don your own smile. 

Coach Harrington’s eyes meet yours for a moment before a controlled laugh escapes his lips.

“What, um, what were you listening to so loud that you didn’t hear me yelling for you to slow down?”

Giggling, you gesture towards your Walkman. 

“Just some CD I burned to get me pumped. Right now, it’s playing ‘Master of Puppets’ by Metallica. Have you heard that song?”  

Something dark flashes over his face before he awkwardly nods and gets up leaving you alone on the bleachers as you stare after him. 

***

“Are you fucking kidding me?”, you growl as you push on the girl’s locker room door to find it locked. “What is going on with me this semester?”

Glancing around and seeing no one, you brave the boy’s locker room, finding it open, assuming that in his weird state, maybe, Mr. Harrington forgot to lock up. As quickly as you could you showered and began to change into some comfy clothes. 

The sound of something hitting the wall nearby froze you in fear as you gaze scanned the area. 

No one nearby. It could be the janitor cleaning the coach’s office.

Quietly, you threw your things over your shoulder and tiptoed that way with the intention of ducking under the window of the area so you weren’t seen but the muffled sound of moaning had you pausing again. 

“Mmm…Steve…Steven. Wh-What’s wrong, baby? Talk to me.”

“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”

“Hey. Hey, hey, sweetheart. It’s ok. I’m ok. I’m right here, Steve. You saved me.”

Peeking through the window, you saw their forehead’s pressed together as Eddie gently caressed his cheek with his thumbs. A small sigh left your lips when they began to kiss each other again. With a bit of needy force, Steve turned him around and pulled his back flush to his chest. Gently nibbling on his neck, he reached around and unbuckled Eddie’s pants, pushing them down to free his cock that he promptly began stroking. 

Fuck me he’s big. 

You practically drooled at the sight, licking your lips as your palm absently glided under your shirt to rub your tummy.

With his free hand, Steve sloppily yanked down his sweats making you moan as you watched him spit in his palm and rub it between Eddie’s cheeks before gradually guiding himself into his entrance. 

“Fuck, Steve. That’s it, baby.”

Clinging to each other tightly, Steve thrust his hips at a steady rhythm and you marveled at the sight as your fingers drifted into your own sweatpants and you began circling your clit.

“H-Harder, Steve, please.”

“Please.”, you whisper as you try to keep your eyes open and on them. 

“Like this, honey? Fuck you feel so good, Eddie. I love you.”

Arching his back, your professor craned his neck to kiss the man’s lips as he pumped into him as hard as he could without hurting him. 

“I love you to, baby. Shit, I’m going to cum. Cum with me, Steve.”

Nodding aggressively, he chased their highs until both men grunted and came. While they softly kissed each other your body trembled as you covered your mouth, trying to stifle your moans as the coil snapped. It wasn’t enough as both their heads turned meeting your eyes as you were coming down from cloud 9. 

No one moved as the three of you stared each other. 

Holding up his hands in surrender, Steve pulled out as Eddie straightened up, worry painting both their faces. 

“Y/N…”

Before they could do anything else, you turned and quickly ran out of the locker room.

##############

What the fuck was I thinking?! I shouldn’t have watched them. Two teachers in the MALE locker room while I was touching myself. Shit. I’m going to be expelled for sure. 

Sitting on the stage of your theater class, you focused on the script in front of you as you prepared for an audition your professor recommended. Mrs. Lilah always felt constrained by Hawkins when it came to material but this year she quiet literally said fuck them and decided to do Rocky Horror Picture Show. 

As you read through your lines for Magenta, a clearing throat caught your attention. 

“Hey Eddie!”, your theater teacher beamed as she waved at him and he smiled back before jumping onto the stage to sit beside you. He smelled strongly like cigarettes and a dash of cologne that had your head spinning as you continued to keep your eyes on the paper in front of you. 

“Hey Lilah. I hope I’m not disturbing anything. I just need to talk to Y/N here about an assignment real quick.”

“No problem. She does have her audition for Janet in a few minutes and I’m dying to see her interpretation.”

That caught your attention as your head swiveled her way. 

“I’m doing what now?”

“For Janet, honey. I think you’d be perfect. She’s a bit timid at first but comes out of her shell.”

“But…but…she’s in a bra for a good chunk of the play.”

“Yeah…does that make you uncomfortable?”

“Hm, yeah, Y/N, does people seeing your body in the shadows in an intimate way make you uncomfortable?”, Eddie murmured low enough so only you could hear. 

“Let’s just do the audition and if you prove me right, we can talk about the wardrobe, ok?”

Flashing her a timid smile, you turn to give your attention to your professor. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For what? Skipping my class this morning? Oh, you mean when you watched me and my boyfriend have sex in the boy’s locker room?”

“The girl’s one was locked and I needed to shower—”

“That explains why you were in the locker room but not why you were there watching. Are you going to run and tell all your little friends about how you saw the murderous freak fucking the pretty, rich football coach?”

“What? No. I would never—”

“Mhmm. Look how much will it take to keep your mouth shut?”

“Nothing. I don’t—”

“Please, Y/N! Everyone has a price and Steve doesn’t deserve to lose all he’s worked hard for. So, tell me—”

“Will you let me talk!?” Glancing around to make sure no one heard your outburst; you lower your voice as you continue. “I don’t want anything or any money. I won’t tell anyone. I genuinely don’t care about your private lives. I’m really sorry I watched. I shouldn’t have…I just…”

Your professor’s eyes focused intently on you as he waited for you to continue. 

“I was attracted. The way you two kiss and the way he holds you…no one’s ever been that way with me…” When your eyes dared to finally meet his, you expected anger but those gorgeous chocolate irises displayed a softness you appreciated. “I swear, Mr. Munson, I won’t tell anyone. Your secret is safe with me.”

Nodding, he jumped down from the stage before turning to face you again. 

“I think under the circumstances you can call me Eddie. Not in class but… I also think you should play Janet. You’re a very beautiful young lady. Don’t let any of these superficial idiots take away that lead role from you just because of how you look.”

#############

A couple of weeks had passed and nothing of note happened with school or your classes. You were cast as Janet, allowing Eddie’s advice to drive you as you maneuvered the role. Your professor and Coach Harrington had minimal contact with you but you always felt their eyes following you around. 

Tonight, you were studying in the Hawkins diner off campus. You preferred it here then the library after hours because not only could you munch on some delicious food but no one was usually there that you knew. 

As the bell above the door dinged, you glanced up from the novel Eddie had you guys reading to see said professor and his boyfriend entering the establishment and taking a seat. You couldn’t help but wonder how hard being out like this must be for them. They couldn’t share a booth or be flirty. They couldn’t hold hands or kiss, at least not visibly where people could see. You hated that for them since both seemed like good men. You wondered why they stayed behind here in this terrible little conservative town instead of moving anywhere else. 

Hoping to slip out unnoticed and allow them privacy this time, you gathered your things and placed some money on the table. 

“Is that my favorite piggy?”

You roll your eyes at the sound of Martin’s voice as you try to ignore him and head out the door. A hand abruptly grabs you but you slap it away. 

“Don’t touch me.”, you hiss. 

“Oh, come on, Y/N. It’s Saturday and we just left an awesome party. Can’t you and I get along for once?!” His friends around the table behind him snickered as a big devilish smile stretched across his face. 

“If you weren’t such a fucking dick maybe. Now leave me alone.”

As you storm out the front door to your car, something tugs your backpack, ripping it open as all your books and papers tumble to floor. Martin’s hand wraps around your throat and pushes you against the trunk of your car. 

“You will show some fucking respect especially in front of my friends.”

“Aw, did little Martin get his feelings hurt?”, you sass. “Didn’t realize you had any.” 

Your knee rises as you hit him in his stomach but he’s still faster as his palm reaches out to grab your shirt tugging you down hard onto the pavement.

Abruptly, someone grabs his own jacket collar and tosses him roughly away from you as Eddie quickly maneuvers around them both, kneeling to your level. 

“Are you ok, sweetheart? Can you stand?” Silently nodding, you take the hand he offers to you and rise to your feet. He notices immediately that your blouse is torn and without hesitation shimmies out of his leather jacket and places it around your shoulders. 

“Mr. Click, on Monday, you will see me in my office.”, Coach Harrington growled as he glared at the boy. 

“Oh, fuck you! That fat little whore pushed me into it!”

“HEY!”, he bellowed making you jump as your teacher rubbed your shoulders comfortingly. “I would advise you to stop speaking. You’re already in a lot of trouble.”

“Pfft, you think I’m scared of you, Steve Harrington?! Yeah, my parents told me all about you and the disappointment you became to Hawkins. You’re fucking pathetic! I’m surprised they even hired you to coach us let alone your friend the freak! I guess those satanic rituals DO fucking work.”

The man’s body language stiffened before he did that controlled chuckle you had heard before. 

“Alright, Martin, we can do this right now then. I was only going to suspend you but you know, since I’m so fucking pathetic I think I’ll just go all in. You’re off my team.”

“WHAT?!”

Turning around, he ignored the boy’s continued expletives as he faced you both. 

“Eddie, get her books and all her things. We’ll take her back to our house, if that’s ok with you.”, he asked pointedly in your direction. All you could do was nod and try to bend down to get your thing but the metalhead stopped you before descending to the concrete to collect your things. 

“YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME! YOU’LL REGRET THIS!”

“Take it up with the dean. Until then on Monday, I want your shit out of my locker room or else I will throw it in the garbage. Come on, guys.”

Coach Harrington opened the back seat door for you, startling you when he closed the door a bit too hard. 

***

When they parked outside of a home, neither moved as Eddie’s eyes scanned over his partner’s face.

“You ok, babe?”

His ringed fingers reached out to caress through his hair and in the rearview mirror you could see Steve close his eyes as he exhaled. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Let’s get inside.”, he answered curtly as he came around and opened your door and you followed both men inside. You stood in their living room silently as they threw their keys down and Eddie disappeared down a hallway. 

When he came back, he handed you a t-shirt that read “Def Leopard: Tour of 88!”

“Go put this on and we can see about fixing your own.”

His eyes followed you as you entered their bedroom where the bathroom was located and shut the door. Removing your blouse, you could see a slight bruise forming where the strap of your backpack had been on your shoulder and some redness around your neck where Martin had grabbed you. Swallowing your pain at the sight, you put on the shirt they provided and folded his jacket, placing it nicely on the countertop.

Your eyes took in their fairly average bathroom, smirking slightly at the hair gel you imagined was Steve’s as Eddie’s hair was always wild even during class when he pulled it back. Both their colognes and bathroom products were side by side like any couples but the few things you knew about them had each personality standing out. Cigarettes were by the window near the bathtub where you imagined Eddie smoked as they took a bath together. On the floor by the shower, were some handheld barbells you imagined Steve used while Eddie took a shower or got ready so they could talk to each other about their days. 

Walking back out to their bedroom, you noticed a guitar against the wall and grinned at its slightly cheesy 80s aesthetic. You remembered once hearing that Eddie Munson used to be in a band but for the life of you couldn’t remember the name. You wondered if he still played. 

“Your student that you talk about…Y/N…she was listening to that song you played in the upside down. I just…it made me think of us…us finding you.”

What could he have meant by that…

Your gaze shifted to their dresser that had a vanity mirror attached with pictures taped to it. There were so many images of them together that made your smile widen but there were also photos of Steve with a young lady you remember seeing around Hawkins. She used to work at Family Video until a few years ago but you weren’t sure where she moved on to from there. Did you remember Steve there? No… you were pretty young though and focused on your own carefree life. 

There were pictures of Eddie with the Hellfire club. They were still active when you went to Hawkins High filled with a cool group of kids you hung out with from time to time. There were whispers of the man that created it but everyone in the club always said good things about the former Dungeon Master. 

They must have been in two different worlds in high school. 

What must have happened to bring them together?

“Steven, you need to calm down.”

The sound of Eddie’s voice caught your attention after something loud slammed in the kitchen. You tiptoed down their hallway and paused on the other side of the wall. 

“Fucking asshole kid, I swear to God.”

“Baby, it’s not the first time someone has said those things to us and it won’t be the last especially since we chose to stay here.”

“We didn’t exactly choose and that’s not why I’m upset.”

“Why then?”

“She…she seems like a nice girl.”

“She IS a nice girl.” Eddie sighs as he lowers his voice. “Steven, she’s a student and a lot younger than us.”

“Not a lot. Jesus, you make us sound ancient. She’s, what, how old you were when you graduated high school.”

“Hey, ok first off, rude.” They both giggle making you grin. “Second, again, she’s a student. She’s MY student. I could get in way more trouble than you.”

“Like that’s ever stopped you.”

“I swear, sweetheart, don’t we have enough chaos fucking hiding our relationship?”

“Oh, come on, Ed, you don’t like her?”

“I didn’t say that. I just… yeah, she’s beautiful and adorable and… fuck. We shouldn’t talk about this with her here.”

Collecting your bearings, you walk around the wall and knock on it lightly.

“Hey, there she is. I, uh, I fixed your backpack. Let me, um, see if I can salvage this top for you here.”, Eddie smiles as he takes it from your hands and heads for their couch. 

“I didn’t know you could sew.”

“Mhmm. I can’t like whip up a brand new outfit or anything but I can patch things together.”

“Are you alright? Do you need any Band-Aids or an ice pack?”, Steve asks from his place by the counter. 

“No, I’m ok. My throat is a bit sore but…” You don’t even finish your sentence before he’s turning around and grabbing an ice pack from the freezer, wrapping it in a rag, and sitting in front of you on their coffee table to place it on your neck. “Thank you. I like being choked but not like that or by that asshole.”

They both glance at each other as you blush. 

“Yeah, probably not a joke to make right now. Sorry.”

“You apologize a lot.”, Eddie says from behind you. 

“Sorry.” They laugh making you grin to yourself as you look down at your feet. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble. I’m not…actively…trying to do that.”

“Oh, no worries, honey. Trust me. What is he going to say? ‘Coach Harrington kicked me off the team after I drunkenly assaulted a girl?’ I’m pretty sure the dean will side with me on that one.”

Your silence makes them nervous and they exchange another look. 

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?”

“I’m thinking about how I never expected Martin to do what he did. He’s been mean to me since freshman year but never aggressive like that.”

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right, princess?”

“Yeah, I know. I…I…” Unable to control them, the tears began to flow and a ring laced hand delicately reached for your shoulder, moving the things in his lap aside so he could hold you to his chest. Steve placed his own palm on your jeaned thigh and comfortingly rubbed against the material. 

Once again you were engulfed in the scent of Eddie’s cigarettes and cologne as his cheek rested on the top of your head. You couldn’t explain why but you felt safe here with their hands on you encased between them. 

It had been a few months since your last relationship and you could feel yourself dropping into that particular headspace the longer they comforted you. 

“I’m…I’m also thinking…about what I saw that night…in the locker room. How you two took care of each other…”

All movement on your body ceased as they even held their breathes. 

“H-How about we get you home, Y/N? I can give you this shirt after our next class.”

Eddie lightly pushed you to the side as he tried to stand but you hastily grabbed his arm stopping him. 

“I heard you. You said I was beautiful and sweet.”

As your little voice flowed through his ears, his eyes squeezed shut trying to keep control. 

“Y/N, maybe, he’s right. Maybe, we should get you home before—”

“Before what, Steve?” This was the first time you were using his name out loud and the notion sent tingles all through your body feeling like a little girl who misbehaved.

“Hey. You show him respect, little girl. That’s Mr. Harrington or sir.”, Eddie scolded in gruff tone.

“Edward…”

“No, Steven. Little girl wants to play with the grownups, then that’s how we will treat her. Now, we said, you’re going home. Grab your things and head towards the front door.”

“Why did you bring me back here, Mr. Munson? You could have taken me back to my dorm but you didn’t. Why?”

“Because people shouldn’t be seeing a professor drop off a student on campus.”

“But Steve said he was taking me to your house out loud to Martin.”

The man’s hand firmly came down on the side of your thigh making you yelp as you bit your bottom lip. 

“He said show me respect.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.” Placing your hand on top of his, your thumb tenderly ran along his skin as you leaned against Eddie’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, Mr. Munson. Like I said…no one has ever taken care of me or looked out for me the way you two do with each other.”

You were slightly surprised when his fingers gently came around and brushed your hair away from your face. 

“We brought you back here because we thought you were safer with us here. After what he did, we thought that’s what you needed.”

“Am I not safe here?”, you whisper as you can’t help but rub your thighs together. 

“Y/N… Eddie and I have been through a lot. What you saw in my office isn’t always how we are when we’re intimate. We’re not always…soft.”

“But I promise you, princess, we are nothing like Martin. If you wanted to leave…right now…that’s ok. We can take you home or call you a cab if that makes you more comfortable.”

He was giving you an out; they both were. You could leave right now and the three of you could pretend this never happened. You could pretend that Steve’s large hand on your upper thigh wasn’t turning you on as you thought about how those long fingers would feel inside of you. You could pretend that Eddie’s touch wasn’t getting progressively slower as the pads of his own fingers traced your cheek making your pussy clench around nothing. You could pretend the notion of doing something you shouldn’t and being at the mercy of these two men’s wills didn’t drive you crazy. You could do that… 

Or…

“I don’t mind it not being soft, Mr. Harrington. I trust you and Mr. Munson.” Both men exchanged on final look of caution before your last sentence pushed caution to the wind. “Please, I need you.”

“I think since you saw us in vulnerable position we should get the same courtesy.”, Steve replied in a much huskier tone than before. Taking your hands in his, he pulled you to your feet and pushed the coffee table out of the way before taking the seat you had just been in. On impulse, Eddie leaned closer to him as the other boy wrapped his arm around his shoulder. 

“Go ahead, Y/N.”

As your eyes shifted between their heavy gazes, you lifted off the shirt he gave you, unbuttoned your pants, and shimmied them a bit clumsily down your legs.

You stood there waiting for more instruction as they continued to stare at your body. 

“Did you see our cocks?”

“Yes.”

Steve smirked as his boyfriend began to kiss his neck while his palm traveled along his chest down his stomach.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Remember that, Y/N. I don’t like repeating myself and Eddie is a lot nicer than I am in here.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Harrington.”

Steve’s eyes fluttered when the metalhead’s palm grazed the bulge in his jeans. 

“Now, if you saw or cocks, then why are you stopping?”

“You said…I should be vulnerable, sir.”

Your small voice had them groaning as Eddie fumbled with the pretty boy’s belt almost desperately. 

“Fuck. Don’t move.” He commanded towards you as his head turned to capture his boyfriend’s lips. Lifting his hips, he helped Eddie blindly pull his jeans down just enough to free his length. As he started to lean over his lap, Steve hastily stopped him with a smile. “You don’t want to see her, honey?”

He chuckled as he focused his attention back on you. 

“Do you feel vulnerable, Y/N?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Hm. Not enough to not finger yourself out in the open though, huh? I mean at least you had pants on.”

“I-I-I wasn’t…I wasn’t thinking—”

“No, you weren’t. Take off the rest so we can see you.”

While doing what he said, you watched as Steve pushed down Eddie’s pants as well and both men kissed passionately in front of you as they stroked each other’s cocks. 

“Y/N, is there anything we should know? Anything we should avoid?”

“No, Mr. Munson.”, you answered, appreciating his soft tone as he asked his series of questions. 

“You said you liked being choked but is there anything physical we shouldn’t do?”, Eddie groaned out as Steve lifted off his shirt.

You heard his question but couldn’t form an answer as your eyes starred at the scars that littered his chest. They looked like whatever wound created them was deep, possibly life threatening. What could have happened to him?

“HEY!”, he barked making you jump. “He said he’s not as nice as me but that doesn’t mean I’m easy going! Now, answer the fucking question, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. N-No, I don’t mind being hit or p-punished. Mr. Munson, what happened?”

As you started to step forward, both sets of brown eyes glared your way freezing you in place.

“Do you know the stop light system?”, Steve growled in a much rougher tone than you were prepared for. Nodding curtly after reciting it to them, he got up and grabbed your arm, sitting you between them. “Now, we do have some rules, Y/N. The first rule is the most important. DON’T ask about our scars.”

“Our?”

Steve slowly lifted off his own shirt and tossed it to the side. He didn’t have as many scars as Eddie but they were just as deep and looked similar. Whatever happened must have happened to both of them. 

“I’m so sorry you both went through…whatever hurt you.”, you coo as you reach out to graze your fingers down Eddie’s chest. 

The darkness in their eyes faltered slightly at your sincerity and the metalhead took your hand in his, tenderly kissing the back of it. 

“Second rule. You have to be vocal, Y/N. If at any point you feel uncomfortable, we need you to say red ok?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Munson. “

“Good. Good girl.”

His praise made you giddy as you blush making him smile.

“Can I kiss you?”

“I have one more question, princess. Have you ever done anything like this before?”

“Yes and no.”

“Yeah, we’re going to need you to clarify that.”, Steve laughs. 

“I’ve done rough stuff with dominate partners before. I’ve never been with two men before.”

The way you said the word men had Eddie’s eyebrow quirking upward. 

“Are you trying to tell us you’ve only been with boys your age?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Why did you feel the need to tell us that?”

“Do we make you nervous?”, Steve asks as his fingers dance up your arm. 

“Yes b-but not because of you two, Mr. Harrington. I just wanted you to know j-just in case I’m not as ‘experienced’ as you both.”

Eddie’s palms cupped your cheeks as he brought your lips to his. You weren’t surprised by the nicotine that lingered there but you were by the tingle that ran through your body as his tongue caressed your own. When he pulled away you tried to lean forward for more but his grip held firm. 

“We weren’t expecting you to be, pretty girl. You’ve only ever been with these little boys but you’re about to be fucked by real men, sweetheart. Trust us, we know how to take care of you.”

You moaned at his promise, turning towards Steve to crash your lips with his. He was a much more determined kisser, his mouth and tongue sending that same shock wave through to your core. 

“Have you ever sucked a cock as big as mine?”, he panted against your lips.

As you shake your head, his fingers grab your throat just below your jaw as if purposely avoiding where Martin had hurt you. 

“What did I say? How do you answer us?”

“I’m sorry. No, sir, I’ve never sucked a dick as big as either of you.”

Sitting back, his palm moved to the back of your neck, guiding you down over his leaking tip as Eddie adjusted your body till you were on all fours for them. 

“Fuck me, Steve. She is so fucking wet. Her pussy is just tripping down her thighs.”

“Aw, you like being a bad girl, don’t you, honey?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Harrington. I like being a bad girl.”

“Open your mouth.” Doing as he directed, you quickly kissed his slit making him mewl before fully taking him between your awaiting lips. “Yes, oh my god. T-That’s a good girl.”

Eddie’s fingers glided through your folds causing your eyes to roll as you bobbed your head.

“Steve, baby, Jesus, she’s so fucking tight.”, the metalhead groaned as his palm came down hard on your ass. 

“Yeah, Y/N? Did that feel good? You like when your professor spanks you?”

Yanking your hair roughly he tugs you off of him as you continue to stroke him with your hand. 

“I didn’t hear that, little girl. What did you say?”

“Y-Yes, sir, I like when Mr. Munson spanks me.” 

At your response he spanks you again right as he guides two of his digits into your core. Gripping you tighter, Steve forces your mouth on him again and holds you still as he thrusts his hips allowing his cock to hit the back of your throat. 

“Good girl. That’s it, Y/N. Keep your throat open for me.”

Abruptly, Eddie swats his boyfriend’s hand and tugs on your shoulder, guiding you down the hallway to their bedroom and tossing you onto their bed. After completely removing the rest of his clothes, he climbs between your legs and runs his wide, flat tongue through your pussy up to your clit. 

“Oh shit.”, you moan as your back arches into the feeling before yelping when his palm smacks your cunt. 

“Watch your mouth, little girl.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m sorry.”

Steve chuckles as he climbs in beside you both placing his knees by your head as his fingers grip your hair again. 

“Can’t really blame her. I know how amazing your tongue feels. Then again, you may have some competition, babe, because her fucking mouth feels so good.”

Pride washes over you at his praise as you grip his cock and take him as far back as you can trying to continue to please him. 

“I-It’s ok, honey. We can train this little throat. As—fuck—as you know, Eddie’s a wonderful teacher.” His boyfriend tosses him a smirk as his tongue flicks faster against your bud. “Are you going to cum? Cum, Y/N. Cum all over his face.”

Your hips grinded against him as the man’s mouth wrapped around your bundle of nerves and he pushed two of his fingers rapidly inside of you as the sound of your arousal to fill the room. 

Steve backed away from you, allowing you to focus and breathe as your orgasm washed over you. As you came down from your high, Eddie lightly slapped between your legs making you jump and groan. 

“Sensitive. I like that.”

Tilting towards their bedside table, he paused as their eyes met. 

“Shit. I don’t have any condoms.”

“What?”, Steve almost wined as you tried to contain your smile at their desperate need for you.

“Steve, we’ve been together for almost 10 years. When was the last time we used a fucking condom?”, Eddie growled. 

“We’ve been talking about adding someone to our dynamic for a while now.”

“Yeah but I wasn’t prepared for it to be tonight with a fucking student!”

“Excuse me.”, you finally pipe up. “I’m on the pill. I can understand if you still don’t want to but…I’m safe. And like I said, I trust you.”

Both men exchange a glance and you can’t help but giggle up at them. 

“So how long were you going to wait before you said anything, huh?”

“Mr. Munson, you didn’t ask. I wanted to be a good girl and only speak when spoken to.”

They narrow their eyes playfully at you for a moment before Eddie grabs your jaw and tilts you till your face is level with his. 

“You’re not cute, little girl. That little snarky attitude may have worked on those pathetic boys you were with but you’re in the bed of real men now. Don’t hide things from us you think we should know. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-Yes, sir. I’m—”

Steve’s hand cuts you off as he pushes you back against the mattress. 

“We know. You’re sorry.”

Taking hold of his shaft, Eddie taps himself against your pussy making you squirm as you open your legs wider for him. Grabbing your hips, he slides you closer and gradually guides himself into your dripping entrance.

“Fuuuuuck.”, he moaned as he slowly pumped his hips. “We are going to fucking ruin you for anyone else, little girl. Goddamn.”

“How does she feel, baby?”, Steve asks as he leaned towards him to lightly kiss his neck.

“S-So fucking tight, sweetheart, you have no idea. I want…”

“What do you want, Ed?”

“I wanna…fuck her into the fucking mattress.”

Your pussy fluttered around him at his words and his eyes that been closed shot open as he placed his palms on either side of you and started thrusting into you aggressively.

“You want that, you little whore. I can give that to you.”

Much softer than his partner, Steve turned your head and slide his cock back into your mouth that you eagerly sucked on relishing the taste of him. As he pounded into you, Eddie’s lips kissed along his boyfriend’s chest making the man groan louder as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

Bringing his lips to his own they passionately exchanged a kiss that had you mewling as the long-haired man rolled his hips hard hitting that soft spot inside you repeatedly. 

Eddie’s head tilted back as his jaw went slack and you couldn’t help but reach your hands up to run your nails down your chest. 

“I’m…I’m…please…”

Steve moved back as the metalhead grabbed your wrists and held them against the bed as his face fell beside your own. 

“You fucking ask me, Y/N. You beg us to let you cum. Shit. We have control in here.”, he whispers in your ear making your shudder underneath him. 

“P-Please, Mr. Munson. Can I cum? I want to cum on your cock, please.”

His hair tickles your face as he nods and the action of him tenderly kissing your cheek pushes you over the edge as the coil snaps. 

“Fuck, that’s it, pretty girl. Came so fucking hard on my dick. I’m going to fill you up, princess, ok?”

“Please…”, you whimper as he slams into you, chasing his high.

Your professor’s grunts filled your ear and you turned your head into the sound as he warmed your insides. As soon as he rolled off you, a hand took hold of your ankle and yanked you to the edge the bed. 

“Hey, hey, honey. No, no.”, Steve cooed with a hint of sarcasm as he lightly slapped your cheek. “Open your eyes, baby. What color are you at, Y/N?”

“Green.”

His massive palm slapped you a bit harder causing your eyes to fully open as you leaned up on your elbows. 

“Green, what?”

“Green, SIR!”

You’re suddenly turned on to your stomach as rough hands lift your ass in the air while another set takes hold of your wrists and pulls your top half down and forward. 

“Get rid of the attitude, Y/N. You think just because you came you’re allowed to be disrespectful?”, Eddie growls as Steve spanks your behind. “Now, answer him clearly without the tone.”

“Green, Mr. Harrington.”

As he ran his tip through your folds, you knew even after taking his partner, he was going to split you in half. 

“Fuck me.”, Steve moaned as he began pushing himself into you. 

Eddie’s head tilted to the side as he watched your face scrunch together. 

“You’re alright, sweetheart. Trust me, I know how hard he can be to take at first but it will feel good soon. I promise, baby.”, he soothed and kissed your lips. 

“F-Feels…feels good…now. Fuck.”

The man behind you smacks your ass at the curse, pressing further into your cunt till his hips finally connected with yours. 

“Still green, babe?”

“Yeeeees, sir.”

“Good.” Clinging to your waist, Steve pulled back till he was almost all the way out of pussy before roughly slamming back into you practically punching the air from your lungs.

“Oh my god!”

With a slanted smile, he pounded into you as Eddie watched from the side, sitting up on his knees to occasionally run his fingers down the man’s chest. 

“She feels really fucking good, right? Our young, new little toy.”

“Goddamn, I’m gonna fucking bust like a teenager.”

“Wait, pretty boy. You need to feel her cum. Her pussy fucking chokes your dick, I swear.”

“Fuck, Y/N, are you close, little girl?” When you didn’t answer, his hand reached around to grab you throat and lift your back to his chest. “Still coherent, you little slut? I asked you a question.”

“H-Harder, Mr. Harrington, please.”

As his forehead landed on your shoulder, he did what you asked till the bed began to jostle underneath you. A jolt of electricity shot through your body and you mewled as Eddie rubbed circles into your clit. 

You took their conversation as approval and your arm circle around Steve’s neck as you came. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!”, he grunted as he took hold of your chin and turned you so his lips could mingle with yours as he pumped into you a few more times before releasing his seed inside you. 

You were completely drained and slightly sore as he tried to delicately pullout of you while you waited for what to do next. Usually, the boys you were with did the minimal amount of aftercare, choosing to just cuddle with you which was fine. You were surprised, however, when Eddie informed you the bath was ready when you were. 

“For me?”

“Yeah, princess, come on. It will soothe your muscles.”, he murmured softly as he took your forearm and slowly walked you to the bathtub and guided you in. Your head remained lowered as you listened to him maneuver around the bathroom, sliding on some boxers before lighting a cigarette and placing himself on his knees beside you. 

Utilizing the washcloth, he cleaned you pausing when your hand suddenly grabbed his wrist as he attempted to clean between your legs. 

“I’m sorry. Just sore.”, you whispered as you let him go. 

Eddie’s eyes scanned you over and you heard him blow out some smoke from his lips as he put the cigarette down in a nearby ashtray. His fingers moved some of your hair back and he pressed his nose into your cheek while he continued to clean you. 

“It’s ok, sweetheart. You’re still doing really good for me. I know your little pussy hurts from how we stretched her open but we got you, pretty girl. You took us both so well.”

As his deep, comforting tone continued to whisper praises, you keened into the sound as you winced, trying not to grab him again.

“I know, I know. I’m almost done.”

Tilting your head, your lips found his, both of you getting lost in the feeling as he dropped the rag from his hand so he could cup your face and hold you closer. A throat clearing distracted you two as Steve entered the bathroom. 

“I, uh, I have some clothes for you here, Y/N, whenever you’re ready.”

Nodding, you allow Eddie to help you out and lead you in front of his partner who took a seat on the edge of the bed. His honey irises ran along your body, checking for extra care you may need that they inflicted but unlike your assault earlier the only mark they left was the slight reddening of their handprints on your behind. 

“How’s your throat? I tried not to grab you where—”

Your kisses startled him at first but after a few seconds his hand slithered tenderly behind your neck as he kissed you back. 

“I’m ok. Just sore…and tired.”, you reiterate as your heavy eye lids dropped. 

“Ok, honey.” Steve’s hands held you steady while Eddie dressed you in what smelled like their clothes as you swayed in his grasp. “You did so good for us. You deserve some sleep. Would you like me to carry you to the guest bedro—”

Both men watched with amusement as your shook your head before climbing over him and crawling under their covers. 

“I guess we can sleep in the—”

“Please don’t leave.”, you begged in a little girl voice that pierced their hearts. 

“Why does she keep interrupting me?”, Steve chuckles as he gets to his feet and yanks Eddie into his arms to kiss his lips. “She doesn’t do that with you. Or does she in class?”

At the word the metalhead became silent as he kissed his partner’s shoulder and crawled into the bed in front of you. His palm softly caressed your face and through your hair as Steve got in bed behind you.

“You’re worried.”

“Of course, I am and not just because she’s a student. That’s just the frosting on top of the cake that is our problem.”

“That sounds delicious.”

“Steven.”, Eddie scolds as they both smile. “She’s so much younger than we are.”

“10 years. Not much.”

“Not to mention the fact, that we are already hiding OUR relationship let alone another with a young, student. She deserves to be taken on dates and to live her life. She deserves to be seen not hidden.”

“So do you, honey.”

“Steve… we decided a long time ago to stay in Hawkins for a reason. We can’t be run out of town by these homophobic small, minded idiots. They’ve just barely started calming down when it comes to me and what happened in 86. And that’s another thing. What if…what if something happens? What if Vecna comes back or any other fucking monster? We can’t drag her into that.”

“Eddie, you’re over thinking again, but I see where you are coming from. Let’s…let’s take it one day at a time, ok? Who knows. She may wake up and decide this is all too much herself. She may not want to be with some…old, broken-down college professors slash coach.”

“Oh my god, baby.”, the long-haired boy chuckles as he throws his arm over his eyes. “You’re not broke down. We just have some wear and tear.”

Your palm reaching out and pulling Eddie closer as you fully folded into Steve silenced them. They relaxed into you as your professor kissed your forehead and your school’s coached nuzzled into your shoulder as they drifted off to sleep with you. 

##############

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?”, your friend asks as she lightly touches your shoulder before becoming distracted herself. “Maggie! I swear to God you kids are going to get me to retire early.”

“Promise?”, one of the kids teases.

Blinking, you pull yourself back into the moment, remembering the anonymity everyone requested including you.

“Ok, guys, come on. I think we bothered the people up here enough. There’s a reason they make so much money and it’s because they don’t deal with kids like you.”, you joke as you usher them to follow the guide.

It takes all of your energy not to glance their way again but you can feel their eyes trail after you as you disappear with the class. 

After dropping off the kids on campus and making sure everyone gets home safe, you head back to your apartment. As soon as the door shuts you lean against the wood, sliding down to the floor as you cry. 

You enjoyed being with Mogul and Rockstar the other night but now you know who they were. Were they going to leave now that you did? They wanted their identities to be private but never said for how long. After what happened, you were willing to wait but now… now what happens?

You hadn’t even began to fully process that they were millionaire womanizer Steve Harrington and famous well known party bad boy rockstar Eddie Munson. Insecurities had already begun to seep into your brain and it killed you. 

Your phone vibrated causing you to roll your eyes and glance at the notification that danced across your screen. 

(5:15pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!

(5:16pm) CurvyBabyWAttitude declined your invitation for a video chat. 

(5:17pm) Accept the invitation.

(5:17pm) Please.

(5:18pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!

“Yes, Mr. Harrington and Mr. Munson, how can I help you?”, you answer in a short, annoyed tone. 

“You can let us see your face for starters. If I wanted to look at the wall I can turn around.”

“Of your penthouse I bet.”

“We’re still in my office. We wanted to reach out earlier but we thought you’d still be on your field trip or at the school.”

“We wanted to give you time to get home so we could talk properly. Are you crying? Why are you crying?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Look, you don’t have to pander to me, ok? I know now this whole anonymity thing is ruined and you’d rather be with someone more suited to your lifestyle.”

“Define ‘our lifestyle’.”

“For you, Mr. Harrington, I imagine some blond girl with big tits who comes from money and can squeeze her itty-bitty body into the most expensive dress your money can buy. For bad boy Mr. Munson, I see you with more or less the same but she’s cool like Janis Joplin.”

“I do like Janis.”

“So…big tits, money, and blond. Is there a height requirement?”

Your hand covers your mouth as you breathily laugh at their joke.

“No, no height requirement but according to princess here there is a weight limit. I guess because rich men like us are super vain we only care about a woman’s appearance and not her personality.”

“Is that right, honey? Or is the curvy baby with attitude a bit self-conscious?”

“THIS is why we wanted anonymity. We aren’t what you read in the papers, sweetheart. I’d figure the other night would have gone in the category of proving that. If we only cared about what you claim we never would have come down to the hotel.”

After a long exhale, you tilt your phone to allow them to see your face. 

“I think you also forget, honey, we have seen you. Yeah, you were wearing that mask but we knew about your body, your hair, and your tits. We’ve had our hands on them, remember?”

“You just caught us off guard today because… now we regret making you wear that sleep mask thing. Your entire face is so fucking beautiful. I wonder if your real name is equally so.”

Leaning your head on your knees, you take in their demeanors on the other end of your screen. They did still seem to be in his office but they were both sitting on a couch within. Steve was still wearing his sleek suit and Eddie in a black shirt with jeans but their eyes were no longer reflecting surprise as they had earlier that day. Right now, they seemed to be displaying genuine concern. 

“My name is Y/N.”

Both men softly grinned making you do the same. 

“Beautiful… would, um, would you be willing to meet us in a couple of hours at that hotel? We’d like to talk to you some more. Maybe figure some things out when it comes to us three.”

“We’d invite you to our place but we feel like it might make you more comfortable for us to meet somewhere where there’s common ground…so speak.”

“You two live together?”

“Oh good. We can still keep some secrets!”, Eddie chuckles. “Yeah, no point for me to get my own place when I’m on tour a lot and Stevie here travels for work.”

“Ok.”, you nod as you rise to your feet. “I’ll, um, see you both in a couple of hours.”

##################

Nerves float through you belly as you stand outside the hotel door, exhaling as you prepare for what may be on the other side. To your surprise both men are already there, Steve pacing by the window as he scrolls through his phone while Eddie lays on his back on top of the bed. 

As soon as the door closes, they come to attention, pausing as their eyes rake over your body. When you were here last time you had thrown on clothes not caring how you were dressed after your ordeal and today you weren’t expecting to see your two admirers so you were in your jeans and school t-shirt with a messy bun and sneakers. 

This time you wanted to show off with your off-shoulder butterfly sleeve green blouse and black skirt that accentuated your curves. The black heels helped fuel any confidence you were lacking and your hair flowed down around you giving you that extra layer of armor as well as hiding that still prominent bruise you had lingering on your skin. 

“Jesus Christ.”, Eddie breathed before clearing his throat and glancing towards Steve. “You know, seeing her now, Harrington, she doesn’t hit that height requirement we talked about.”

His friend rolled his eyes as you giggled. 

“This is so surreal.”

“What is?”, Steve asked.

“I just…I just read about you the other day. About how you just made a big financial move that made you 400 million dollars. And you…I’ve been listening to your voice for so long. I have your songs on my phone.”

“Yeah? And is that bad?”

“Ah, no, Munson. It’s those insecurities again which by the way I find totally amusing for a girl filled with so much sass.”, the pretty boy grins. “If I may ask, what are the other Daddies like? Why aren’t you like this with them?”

You scoff as you saunter to a nearby chair, place your purse down, and sit crossing your legs. Both men try to control their eyes from scanning along your limbs but Steve in particular struggles to focus on your face as his gaze constantly shifts to your heels.

“A lot of men on there have no idea what they are doing and the men that I have met up with are either trust fund babies or CEOs. They aren’t famous or really worked hard for anything. Personally, I think that’s why they struggle being dominate. They don’t know how to fight or work hard. They barely even know what they want let alone how to take care of me.”

“Goddamn, sweetheart, you are sexy.”, Eddie sighs almost excitedly. “You have no reason to be insecure at all, Y/N. I mean we get it. Like I said, this is part of the reason we wanted the anonymity. We want you to like us for us not our names or status.”

“Is that what happened with your last Baby?”

They glance towards each other again before answering. 

“No.”

“No…”

“No.”, Steve says again with more conviction. “No, that’s not what happened.”

“That’s all I get?”

“You get what we give you.”

Your breathing stutters a bit at the metalhead’s words as your pussy clenches at his casual yet confident tone. 

“Y/N, honey, can you do me a favor and uncross your legs?”  You do as he asks going the extra mile of opening them so they have a good view at your silk black panties underneath. “You have no idea how bad I want to throw those gorgeous high heeled legs over my shoulders and just fucking devour your little pussy till your shaking.”

A small moan escapes your lips but when you try to rub your thighs together for relief Eddie tuts loudly across from you. 

“Ah ah, baby. Keep your legs open till we’re done talking and you!”, he chuckles as he gestures towards his friend. “Stay focused.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“When it comes to sex, princess, is there anything we should avoid? Any hard no’s or anything like that?”

“Nothing…too rough. I’m not into masochistic stuff like canes and flogs but you can hit me or spank me. You’ll probably be doing that a lot.”

“Oh, don’t worry, baby girl. We can handle the brat.”, Steve grins as he winks, taking off his suit jacket and tie, tossing them on the other chair beside him. 

“What about you two?”

That gives them pause before they smirk and the mogul continues rolling up his sleeves. 

“Would you believe you’re the first woman to ask us that?”, Eddie ask as he shakes his head. “No, pretty girl. As long as you’re vocal and tell us when or if you’re uncomfortable, we’re happy. That being said, do you have a safe word you prefer?”

“I’m alright with ‘red’, Daddy.”

Steve walks to your side and extends his hand out for you to take so he can guide you to the edge of the bed beside Eddie before descending to his knees. The long-haired boy brushes some of your hair back and his ringed fingers lightly trace your bruise.

“How does this feel? Still hurt?”

“Yes, sir, but not as much as before.”

“Fucking asshole putting his hands on our baby girl.”, he growled low as his lips kiss your skin. 

“That’s another thing, Y/N, because apparently we weren’t clear last time. You are ours. You belong to us and in turn we take care of you.”

“Are we still…still…keeping this a secret?”, you inquire trying to focus as Eddie’s kisses trailed to your neck while Steve’s mouth lingered on your thigh. 

“Is that alright? Till we get more comfortable with each other and the dynamic.”

“Y-Yes, Daddy. Please.”

“Please what, baby? What do you want?”, the rockstar breathes in your ear.

“I want Daddy to eat my pussy.”

You watch as Steve’s head disappears into your skirt making you groan when his nose presses against your panty covered core and you feel him inhale. 

“Fuck, she smells so fucking good.” His wide tongue flattens against the fabric and Eddie grins as your mouth falls open. “Jesus, Ed, and she tastes so sweet. Let’s get these off, honey.”

Nodding aggressively, you helped him pull down your panties and he tossed them towards his jacket. He licked a strip between your folds, wrapping his mouth around your clit, and repeating the process as his eyes watched your face. 

“Oh fuck, Daddy.”

Eddie’s hand cups your cheek as he brings your lips to his, open mouth kissing you as his own tongue caresses yours. Your body abruptly jostles as Steve bunches your skirt around your waist and throws your legs over his shoulders before pressing his face into your cunt as his tongue vigorously flicked your bundle of nerves.

Your fingers threaded through his hair as you fell back against the mattress and grinded your hips. His large palms glide up your stomach as the other man lifts off your shirt and throws it to the floor. You moan, gripping the mogul’s wrist as his digits pinch and roll your nipple between them. 

“Oh my God, yes, Daddy! I’m gonna cum!

Your orgasm crashes into you like a wave as Steve shakes his head from side to side helping you ride out your high. Refusing to slow down by any means, the man’s arms circle your hips, holding them down as he continues to run his tongue between you folds as he builds you back up. 

Feeling a warmth beside you, you shift your gaze to see a now naked Eddie on his knees stroking himself by your face.

“Do you want Daddy’s cock, pretty girl?” When you don’t respond, his palm lightly smacks your cheek, his eyes scanning yours for discomfort when they finally meet. “I asked you something.”

“M’sorry. Da-Daddy’s mouth feels sooooo good.”

“Maybe I should have him stop so you can pay attention.”

“NO! No, please. I’ll listen! I’ll listen. I’ll listen.” When he repeated his question, you nodded as your free hand started to reach for him. 

“No, baby. Just keep your hands on Steve. Fun fact, he kind of likes when you pull his hair while he’s making you feel good.”, Eddie grins as his palm pets your head. “Just keep your throat open for me, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.”

A guttural moan left the rockstars lips when his cock slid through your parted ones. His girth overwhelmed you instantly but you loved the way he tasted as every vein dragged along your tongue. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. That’s it. God damn Steve, her mouth feels amazing.”

As the metalhead began subtly thrusting his hips, you did what he suggested, gripping the other man’s hair tightly in your fingers as you tried not to gag.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.”, Eddie panted as he pulled himself back and you collected some air. “It’s ok to gag and drool, baby. We don’t mind it messy, trust me, and the thought of this pretty face choking on my cock just…fuck. Oh, wait. You’re going to cum again aren’t you?”, he says in an almost mocking tone that has your pussy clenching. 

Almost abruptly, Steve climbs up your body and snake one of his hands behind your neck, lifting you just enough for your forehead to lean against his. Pushing his ring and middle finger into your core, the sound of your slick filled the room as he thrust them into you at a brutal pace. 

“Cum again, baby. Come on. Soak Daddy’s fingers.”, he chanted under his breath as one of your arms wrapped around his neck. “I gotchu, Y/N. Daddy’s right here. Cum, baby girl. Keep your eyes open and on me.”

You screamed as the coil snapped, panting as your hair was yanked back.

“Keep your eyes open, little girl!”

His large digits continue to pump into you, slowing their rhythm as you gradually come down from your high with both men murmuring praises as they hovered above you. 

Through heavy lidded eyes you see them smirk at each other as Eddie pats his shoulder as if to say thank you before he maneuvers around on the bed, flipping you onto your stomach, and pushing you up on all fours. 

Steve lays on his back and hastily adjusts you till your in-between his legs. With a hungry gaze, you watch as he unbuckles his belt and pushes down his pants just enough to free his cock, stroking it in front of you as you wait. 

“Go head, Y/N.”, Eddie permits making you smile as you tongue darts out to lick the precum off his tip. “Atta girl. Remember, it’s ok to be messy.”

“Just tap me twice if you need a minute, honey.”

“Ok, Daddy. Oh-Oh fuck.”

While you two were talking, the rockstar had placed himself behind you, collecting your arousal with his length before guiding himself into your entrance. You whimper at his size as your nails claw under Steve’s button up shirt down his abs. 

“Fuck me, baby. I know. I’m sorry. I’m trying—shit—I’m trying to go slow but your pussy is just pulling me in…squeezing Daddy so tight.”

The man underneath you bit his lip as your face scrunched in pleasure. 

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N. Such a good girl taking him so well.” Your hand wrapped around him as your mouth enveloped his cock, taking him as far down as you could. “Fuck, good-good girl.”

Once he was fully sheathed inside of you, Eddie waited, allowing you to get accustomed to him while you focused on his friend. Taking his recommendation, you lowered yourself as far down as you could, gagging around Steve’s massive size, and coming off him quickly leaving trail of spit that lingered on your chin. 

“There you go. God, Y/N, that felt amazing. Do you want Daddy to take control?”

“Please… I trust you.”

Almost too gently, he lifted your hair into a ponytail, caressing your lips with his thumb as they fell open while Eddie began thrusting into you. When his cock found its way into your mouth again, however, he was anything but.

His mushroom tip hit the back of your throat repeatedly as he guided your head lower and lower onto his lap.

“You’re doing so good, honey. Fuck! K-Keep your tongue flat. That’s it, baby. Just like that. Mmm get Daddy nice and wet. Yeah? Is Eddie fucking you nice and deep?”

Tears consistently fell at the euphoria you were feeling as Eddie’s cock hit all the right places inside of you and then some while Steve’s words and actions were making you clench the rockstar to an almost a painful degree. 

“Fuck, man!”, he blissfully shouted as he spanked your behind and slowed his pace as he watched his cock disappear inside you. “She fucking loves sucking your dick. Every time she gags, her cunt wraps tighter around me.”

The pretty boy grins as he pets your head and dries some of your tears. 

“You like sucking my cock, pretty girl?”

“Y-Yes, Daddy, I love it.

“Can Daddy fuck your tight your little throat till you both cum?”

“Yes, Daddy, please!”

Eddie stills long enough for his friend to rise to his knees and slide himself back into your mouth, matching his pace as they both thrust into you. Your orgasm takes you by surprise as you roughly tap on Steve’s body and he immediately pulls back as your upper body collapses on the mattress. The rockstar grunts as reaches over to grab your hair, bringing you flush against his chest as he chases his release. His arms circle around to your tummy and you place your own on top of his as he slams his seed inside of you. 

“Thank you.”, you whisper as you pant against his cheek and in response he tilts his head to kiss your lips. 

“Come here, baby girl.”, Steve coos, his head ticking to the side when you shake yours.

“I don’t want to ruin your suit, Daddy.”

Smiling softly, he takes you in his arms and you can’t help but inhale his scent as you nuzzle your face into his neck. After placing you on the pillows, he tugs his shirt over his head and removes the pants the rest of the way. 

“I don’t care about my clothes, honey. All that matters to me is that you’re comfortable and taken care of. Plus, it’s kind of sexy to me to have your gorgeous, naked, sweat covered body against my suit.”

Positioning himself between your legs, he brings one over his shoulder and lets out a long, pleasure filled sigh as he guides his cock into your somewhat overstimulated and dripping pussy. 

“God…fuck me.”

At this angle, it felt like he was splitting you in half but in the best possible way.

“Mmph, fuck, Daddy. You’re so big.”

“I know, Y/N. I know but you can take it. You’re doing so well already.” Steve’s lips kiss your ankle just below your high heel as he gradually began finding his rhythm. “Keep your eyes on me, baby.”

When you didn’t do what he told you to, you felt him lean over you as he pressed his palms into the mattress to steady himself. 

“Y/N, stop making us repeat ourselves. Now, open your eyes.”

“I-I’m sorry, Daddy. You feel—mmm—so good. I can’t—”

“Yes you can, little girl. Don’t let our kindness fool you. We can be mean when we need to be and have no problem punishing bad girls.”

Your eyes open to meet his dominate ones and just as Eddie had he scans your face for any signs of discomfort. When he found none, he rested his forehead on your own.

“This is the first time we’re really getting to see them.” Steve rolls his waist and you mewl as he roughly hits that sensitive spot inside you. “Right there? Ok, baby.”

His jaw goes slack as he pounds into you, slamming into you g-spot over and over again turning you into a moaning mess that drives him crazy. Pushing back on to his knees, you watch as a glob of spit falls from his mouth before he utilizes his thumb to rub it into your clit.

“FUCK! I’m gonna cum!”

The bed shakes underneath you as skin smacking skin loudly echoes through the room. The coil in your belly snaps for the final time that night and Steve’s lips crash to yours to capture every moan he can. After a few moments, his head dips to your side and his groans fill your ear as he empties himself inside you. 

You wince as the man tries to carefully pull out, murmuring apologies as he kisses your face. 

“Here, sweetheart, drink this.”, Eddie instructs in a gentle tone as he hands you a glass of water that you promptly chug back. “I’m going to go figure out how to turn the rocket ship they a call a tub into a bath so we can get you all clean.”

You giggle at his joke as Steve over exaggeratedly sighs as he presses his face into the pillow beside yours. 

“He’s just trying to impress you by seeming more ‘down to earth’. Our bathrooms at home are more or less the same.”

“I’m sure they are better than mine. It’s a 30 sq ft cube and I shower with the door open so I don’t feel like I’m actually IN the movie Cube.”

His eyes scan you over as you laugh at your circumstance.

“I hope this doesn’t come off as rude so if it is please tell me but…you don’t make enough with the website to get a better apartment?”

“I don’t think it’s rude. Um, no. I don’t deal with too many Daddies. I mean I deal with them but not enough to actually get anything going or keep them around long term. Either they can’t handle me or I can’t tolerate them.”

“Girl who knows what she wants?”

“Girl who’s been through enough and is tired of wasting her time.”

He nods as Eddie saunters back into the bedroom to tell you the bath is ready but as he casually comes around to pick you up, you stop him. 

“It’s ok. You don’t need to…”

As you start to climb out of bed, he places his palm on your chest and pushes you back down.

“I don’t need to what?”

“You don’t need to try and lift me.”

“Good to know.”, he responds sarcastically as he effortlessly lifts you in his arms. “Thankfully I don’t need to try. I already know what I can and can’t do.”

After removing your skirt and heels and placing you in the water, the metalhead climbs in behind you and begins cleaning your body as Steve, now donning boxers, places himself on the edge.

“Am I allowed to ask questions?”

“Of course, sweetheart, but we decide whether or not to answer.”

“I guess that’s fair.”

“Did you have a particular question in mind, honey or…?”

“Just some general things.”, you shrug. “Like I know you make a lot of money but I don’t actually understand what you do.”

“Um, the short answer would be I’m an investor, I guess. My father owned and ran an advertising firm that I took over. Then I utilized those funds to buy and resell properties. That business move you mentioned? I bought a building in Las Vegas and spruced it up. Since it was right on the strip it sold for a high dollar value.”

“Did that go right over your head?”, Eddie asked in jest.

“A bit.”, you smile shyly. 

“Those kids you brought…what do you teach that would bring them to my office?”

“Oh, that wasn’t my class. I was helping my friend with her field trip because another teacher called in sick. She teaches economics; I teach English.”

Both men make a subtle ah noise as they chuckle. 

“Almost all of students know you.”, you smile as you shift your focus to the rockstar. “They say you need to post more on social media.”

“Yeah, I have no idea how any of that works. I just post what they tell me and Gareth runs our band one. I’m an old man, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god. No, you aren’t.”, you laugh as you keen into his chest. 

You don’t see it but both men exchange another look before Eddie wraps his arms over your own and holds you tightly against him as he kisses your shoulder. 

“I’m, um, assuming that doesn’t bother you…that we are older?”

“Most sugar daddies are, honey.”

“That’s not what I asked.”, Steve scolds as he reaches out to lightly grip your chin.

“No, it doesn’t bother me.” Nodding at your answer, he releases you to take hold of your hand and help you to your feet to step onto the bathmat allowing the metalhead to do the same so he can dry you. “Do it bother you?”

“No, baby girl, it doesn’t.”

“Now if any younger guys are out here hitting on you—“ Eddie smiles when your loud belly laugh cuts him off. 

“Trust me, no one is hitting on me. I’m not saying that in like an insecure way. I’m just, usually my sarcasm gets in the way.”

After leading you back into the bedroom, you’re surprised when Steve grabs his shirt and puts it on you, falling to his knees as he closes the buttons.

“This material feels nice.” A sexy smirk paints his face as you watch his fingers move. “Smells like you.”

As soon as he completes his task, his face presses into your stomach as his hands tenderly trail up one of your legs. 

“I smell cigarettes to. Almost like my best friend insists on smoking around me.”

“Oh, sure, because you don’t smoke with me sometimes.”, Eddie teases as you both smile. “I like that you smell like us both though. Let’s people know you belong to someone already.”

Taking a hold of your bicep, he guides you under the covers and you immediately spoon your body into his as he circles his arm around you again.

“Should I…remove my profile from the site?”, you ask sleepily as Steve lays in front of you and brushes some of your hair away from your face.

“We would appreciate that. Tomorrow we can give you our number so we can talk directly on the phone and get some more information so we can send you money when you need it. I would also like to work on getting you a better place to stay. I don’t like you being in a small place where—”

“Steven.”, Eddie chuckles as he interrupts his friend. “Look at her.”

As his eyes glanced over you, he realized you had fallen asleep, your steady breathing and calm face making them swoon.

“Am I asking for too much? I hate the idea of her living somewhere she isn’t comfortable.”, the mogul inquires as he slides further under the covers and caresses your skin while the rockstar props up on his elbow. 

“She doesn’t seem like the kind of woman to do anything that would make her uncomfortable.”, he grins. “But no, I don’t think you’re going overboard.”

“You know how we are. That’s why women always took advantage of us.”

“That’s why we’re taking things a bit slower this time so we don’t have another incident like last time.”

Steve growled under his breath at the thought.

“I don’t think Y/N would be as vindictive as our ex was. Yeah she’s got a mouth but she seems up front and honest. I like that.”

“Me to.”

“I hope we aren’t wrong about this one, Ed.”

############

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