Yikes

Eddie Munson x Reader

18+ MINORS DNI

Summary:

You and your group of girl friends have taken your best friend out to a dive bar for the first night of her bachelorette weekend!

You quickly get sucked in by the bartender's charm though, and your gaggle of supportive, and woefully happily partnered up, girls are quick to push you to flirt and maybe get his number.

His number isn't what you end up getting by the end of the night though.

Content warnings: AFAB reader, alcohol, semi-public sex, fingering, PIV, protected PIV sex, descriptions of anxious feelings

Word Count: 5K

A/N: So sorry if Eddie is super out of character (I feel like I didn't do my boy justice). I'm super new to this, thanks for taking a chance to read this! I've let this blog sit empty for a few years, and been to nervous to reblog or make my own posts. But, I want to engage! Let me know if I missed anything, feedback, etc. Just dipping my toes in!

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The girls squealed around you, crammed in a booth with phallic objects strewn about. A penis shaped straw in every drink, finished or half full, littering the table, confetti that you feel a slight pang of guilt about covering the ground beneath all of your heels, and of course a large inflatable penis with a jarringly cute smile drawn on it that was being passed from person to person at various times throughout the evening. An odd-look for the dingy, small town bar that the group found themselves in, but none of them seemed to notice that they looked out of place compared to the serious, just-clocked-out clientele that took up the other tables in the building.

At the center of the group, the bride-to-be glowed in all white with a sash proclaiming her soon-to-be marital status sitting proudly across her chest. Had the white, the sash, or the tiara that adorned her head, not been a dead giveaway as to the type of party that was being had in that booth, then the giveaway could maybe have been the matching buttons with various slogans betraying your status in the group.

You were comfortably snuggled into the left side of the bride, your two buttons (“maid of honor” and “still single”) proudly on display. Another squeal rang out as you pushed a shot towards your best friend. She grunted her disgust at the offering before downing it like a champ, foregoing the lime you had also procured for her.

“Alright!” She slammed her hands on the rickety bar table. It wobbled slightly, sloshing some of the drinks and causing some wayward penis straws to teeter dangerously at the edge of the table. “We need to dance! I need to move!”

The other girls tittered about the music in response, claiming the need for something more to get them on the dance floor. So, the executive decision was made to make use of the dive bar’s jukebox. The honorary DJ? Well the honour was bestowed on you after a rousing round of “not it” rang around the table, and you were a little too slow on the uptake.

“Just none of your angry shit!” The bride screwed up her face in disgust, making you laugh before you shuffled ungracefully below the table to escape the booth.

You made your way to the bar in order to exchange your bills for some change. And maybe to grab another shot to loosen up your shoulders before shaking them on the dancefloor. You couldn’t help feeling a little tense, even during such a happy occasion. You were so happy to be here celebrating your closest friends’ love, but you couldn’t help feeling a twinge of envy, sitting as the only single woman in the midst of a gaggle of happy marriages and long term relationships.

Your last relationship had not so much fizzled, but rather blown-up in your face. A rude awakening that you did not know your worth.

You reach the bar just as you shake off your self-pity. Now was not the time to wallow in what-ifs and past failures. It was the time to get shit-faced, dance with your best friend on one of her last night’s as a “single” woman, and maybe cheekily flirt with some of the grizzled regulars. Then you came face-to-face with the bartender.

You had come up to the bar expecting the same older gentleman as when you’d bought the first round – his mean scowl and gruffness was kind of charming as he sent you off with a tray of tequila and a “Don’t have too much fun, sweetheart.” Instead of a kind-hearted grump, you were met with a sly smirk, it dimpled and creased the new bartender’s cheeks, crinkling warm brown eyes. His curls were messy, hanging by his shoulders, begging for a yank as he leaned on his elbows over the bar towards you. His biceps flexed deliciously with the motions, framed by the rolled up sleeves of his black t-shirt. Your mouth suddenly felt dry, and the wiggling of butterflies trying to escape their cocoons, having been dormant so long, began to overtake your stomach.

“What can I get you, sweetheart?” His voice was a low rumble, that wiggling feeling becoming more intense as butterflies began to bloom. The way he said the nickname felt different than the other bartender, and you didn’t want to think too hard on how a nickname could make you feel. You swallowed, trying to bring the saliva back to your mouth in order to answer him, knowing you were taking far too long. Your eyes bounced between his face and the splashes of ink that trailed down his neck and arms, keeping you attention away from the question he asked though your brain desperately grappled for coherent words.

“A shot and some change for the jukebox,” you managed, wincing at both the squeak in your voice and the knowledge that you took a beat or two too long to answer the simple question.

His smirk only seemed to slink further across his face, seemingly amused at your obvious fluster. “For sure, for sure, but what should go in the shot, cutie?”

You felt your cheeks grow hot at the second pet name. “Tequila, please.” Mixing the liquor of your shots at this point seemed like sacrilege, and you would suffer the taste now rather than make yourself sick later.

The bartender pursed his lips, still amused at your reactions, nodding at your choice as you slid a bill onto the countertop to cover both the shot and to get some change. Pushing off the barm he started to rummage around for a glass and the bottle off the barrail. You took these precious moments to continue gawking at the man, less than subtly to those sitting at the bar around you. The way his broad shoulders were covered by a patch strewn denim vest, displaying some shared taste in music between you, as well as the tight fit of his dark denim across the top of his thighs (not big, but not scrawny either) visible after he took the step back from the bar, stole your attention away from the amused gazes of the bar patrons. Too preoccupied in your admiration to notice.

If the bartender noticed your blatant interest, however, he did not let on beyond a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. He slid the shot and a slice of lime towards you, along with your change. “Tequila and tokens for your music choice, princess”

You bit your lip at the newest nickname, staring down at your shot to compose yourself as your face heated all over, spreading down your neck and up your ears. Shrewd brown eyes took in the reaction, filing it away for later and deciding he had a winner.

A long sigh was your psych-up after your moment for composure, picking up your shot off the bar as you exhaled. You lifted the shot into the air, making brief eye contact with the bartender before tapping it back on the bartop once more and tipping your head back. You cringed as you held the bitter liquid in your mouth just a little too long before it finally slid down your throat. Dropping the glass back on the bar, you did your best not to make a face after swallowing as you met the bartender's eyes again. You shared a smirk this time as you pushed the unused lime back towards him. He chuckled softly at your prideful move, then pushed both lime and glass aside to lean towards you on the bar again.

“Thanks,” you hushed, pulled in by his amused gaze and proximity, unconsciously leaning forward yourself.

“My name’s Eddie, princess, and I’m here all night.” His eyes flicked behind you for a moment before returning to yours. “Tell your friend congratulations for me.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion for a moment, but you were interrupted from your confusion by a hand on your shoulder. You turned to see the lady of the hour, mischief alight in her eyes once you turned to meet them. Suspicion curled in your stomach, but you only had enough time to snatch the change from the counter, leaving a couple dollars as a tip, before you were being pulled away toward the jukebox on the far wall.

Over your head, the bride-to-be sent a wink towards the man behind the counter, and his amusement only increased.

“Interesting conversation?” she hummed at you, not pulling any longer, but rather draping herself along your side as you made it to the music machine.

You scoffed in embarrassment, once again feeling heat begin pulled towards your face and the tips of your ears. You fed your coins into the machine, glazing over your shoulder to catch brown eyes staring back at you across the bar. “Please. It’s his job to be charming.” You turned your gaze back to the machine.

Your friend just hummed again with a noncommittal shrug before pushing you to the side with a hip in order to make her own choices on what to play. No worries about the wrong vibes from your questionable (in her eyes) taste in music. “Let’s dance!”

With a beckoning wave toward the booth, you were pulled toward the space in front of a low, empty stage that served as the dance floor. The previous song ended, dropping into a second long lull, before the opening beats to Super Trouper filled the space. You scoffed at the choice in amusement while the DJ of the moment cackled. Despite this reaction, you bounced along with the other girls, belting out the lyrics; your brain pleasantly fuzzy from your previous shot.

The song changed, and your hips began to swing as the music choice moved from your group’s middle school playlist into the more sultry music of your university years. Your eyes flashed towards the bar unbidden, once again catching chocolate watching on with interest. Butterflies, all free from their cocoons, fluttered deep in your core under his gaze, and your hips took on a little more swing. Your small skirt sliding up your hips in a way you hoped was enticing.

Lace covered hands ruffled the raising hem of your baby tee as your best friend slid behind you. Her amused giggle huffed in your ear, catching easily onto the show you were trying to provide. Her hands continued to slide up and down your sides slowly as she danced with you, and you watched as the bartender’s, Eddie’s, eyebrows crawled up his forehead under his bangs at the sight.

“The girls and I were thinking,” she began to whisper in your ear, and you tilted your head towards her attentively, “We would like to live vicariously through you.” You hummed for her to continue, urging her to go on. “Go flirt with the bartender.”

You turned towards her fully at that, breaking eye contact with who you know knew to be the focus of the conversation. “It’s your bachelorette party! I’m not ditching you guys to maybe get the number of a kind-of cute guy.”

Eyes rolled at your dismissal. “This is day one. We’re at the cabin all weekend. This is a multi-day affair which will need scandalous behaviour for amusement.” She turned you around and pushed you toward the bar. “Now, go talk to the “kind-of cute guy” you’ve been shaking your ass for.”

You stumbled towards the bar from the push, throwing a dirty look over your shoulder that was met with a cheeky little wave. Turning back forward, you steeled yourself to continue your short walk towards the bar. But the closer you got, the more the heady confidence you felt that allowed you to dance under his gaze began to fade. A heavy ball weighed down your gut as you got closer, and your throat was tight. Thoughts, half-formed and mean, raced in your mind as you finally reached the dinged up wooden ledge. You sat on a nearby stool, suddenly feeling much smaller and much more sober than you had moments ago across the room.

It was only a moment though before a short glass of bright coloured liquid was placed gently in front of you, disrupting your thoughts about fleeing back towards the group. You raised your gaze to meet Eddie’s disarming smile. “You seemed like you might be thirsty.”

You hummed back shyly, choking on the butterfly wings that now crawled up your throat with vengeance. You brought the small straw, thankfully not penis-shaped at this time, to your mouth to take a tentative sip, unable to keep the delight from lighting up your face afterward. The drink was sweet, but contained enough tartness to cut it from tipping into something sickening. Eddie’s smile shifted from a little into a smug satisfaction at your clear enjoyment.

You set the drink down and smiled back at him, allowing him this moment of arrogance. “That’s awesome! How much do I owe you?”

Eddie waved off your question with a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry about it, princess. This is the least I can do when you’ve brought so much life into this place tonight.” He let his gaze drift over you lazily, stopping at the buttons on your shirt for a moment and looking rather pleased with what he found. “I have to ask, why’d you girls choose to celebrate in this dump? You’re not locals, I’d definitely remember seeing you around.”

You scoffed a little at his obvious flirt, but smiled – charmed all the same. “We rented a cabin to celebrate for the weekend. Much cheaper out here, not too far from the city, we can be louder because there’s no one around, and it’s a change of scenery.”

Eddie weighed your answer with a quick tilt of his head back and forth, a smile still firmly in place. “A change of scenery, huh?” He chucked a little lowly as he continued his thought, “I’ve lived around here so long that it’s hard to see the charm.”

You nodded back thoughtfully while continuing to sip on your drink, stopping only to pose a question back to him. “So, have you lived here your whole life?”

It was surface level at best, but the man in front of you seemed to soften a little at the genuine ask. “Yeah, kind of…”

And so you talked. The bar wasn’t too busy, but when duty called him away from your bubble of conversation it would always be with the promise of being right back. He kept you drink full as you slowly sipped through the night, though your previous tipsiness waned as the hours stretched on and your intake declined rather than ramped up.

Your group left about an hour ago, piling into the lone cab the town had to offer, in order to continue the night back at the cabin. Before they left, of course, they were sure to pile on quiet teasing and join your conversation whenever they sidled up to the bar for a new drink or a round of shots. They also secured promises of safety (and details) before leaving you behind at your request.

You had no guarantee of a night beyond this bar, but you were hoping the conversation and heated looks led to something more. You hoped that your refusal to pile in the cab with them wasn’t hubris on your part.

Eddie’s yell of last call towards the last patrons caused the doubts you had of what was to come for the night tearing at the fabric of your consciousness. Butterflies fluttered slightly, but that heavy ball of nerves anchored you in your gut, and bile felt like it was bubbling up to push at the back of your throat. You cleared it softly, meeting Eddie’s gaze as he sauntered back over to you with an easy smile.

You smiled back, hoping it didn’t seem as shaky as how you were feeling. “I,” you started, choking a little on the thought then trying again, “I suppose I should call a cab.”

Joy leapt through you at the surprise that lit your companions face. He frowned a little as he leaned towards you over the bar again, his voice betraying his own hope. “I suppose, but, if you want, I could give you a ride?”

The butterflies were back again stronger, this time joined by your heart that thumped loudly in your throat. Around these sensations, you managed a breathy, “Yeah?” in response.

He smiled again, the easy charm from earlier in the night still present, but tinged with a shyness you wouldn’t have believed possible a few hours ago. “Yeah, I could take you back to your cabin, or…” he trailed off, shyness turning coy at the obvious interest in your eyes at the suggestion.

You felt giddy, the tipsy feeling coming back to you from excitement at the images brought to mind from the leading phrase. “I won’t be missed tonight.”

Eddie beamed back at you, paired with a dark gaze that caused the back of your neck to prickle with anticipation. He pushed off the counter, drumming his hands on it briefly before turning away. “Don’t you go anywhere,” he called back cheekily before moving towards the last two lingering customers, giving them the bum’s rush out the door.

You hummed to yourself contentedly as you waited patiently for Eddie to close down the place. He checked on you regularly throughout this period, just as attentive as he’d been throughout the night. Now though he was freer in his attentions, trailing his hand down your back whenever he passed behind you, lingering in his touch on your arms when he came to check on you, rumbling his questions quietly in your ear as though there was anyone left to overhear.

By the time he strolled out of the back office, done with his final tasks, you were practically vibrating for a more lasting connection.

“All done, princess,” he cheesed in a slightly mocking tone. You’d hopped off the barstool as he came closer, leaning against the bar, He took advantage of this position, caging you in by placing his hands on the bar on either side of you, leaning in to be a breath away. “Only have one more responsibility tonight.”

The butterflies that had taken up residence inside you all evening seemed to be spurred on to a frenzy once more. They desperately fluttered in your throat, aching to bask in the light of the bartender's charming smile. You whispered around them, made shy by his proximity and your own yearning, “What’s that?” He leaned closer, moving to the right of you so that his lips lined up with your ear as he lifted his hand off the bar to push your hair on that side away, ensuring he grazed the skin on the side of your face and neck as he did so, before resting it back on the counter. His words, along with the warmth of his breath caused a shiver of desire to race down your spine.

“Making sure you’re treated right.”

It was cheesy, but so was calling you “princess” or any of the other pet names, and the way he did it, with such a mix of confidence in himself and seemingly genuine sincerity, made you melt. And melt you did, tipping your head languidly to display your newly bared neck to him, vulnerability that he took as the invitation it was meant to be.

His lips fell lightly on your flesh at first, gentle brushing that did little to quell any of the desire you felt for this near stranger. Your head lolled a little further, exposing more of the line of your neck, and he took that as a green light. His attentions gained more force, his mouth opening, bringing in tongue and teeth.

When he stumbled upon a particularly sensitive space, nearing the corner of your jaw, a soft moan broke free, startling you slightly and once again shifting the mood. His lips left your neck to crash upon your own, taking advantage of your slack jaw from the relaxed leisure you’d been reveling in from his softer ministrations on your neck.

His tongue slipped into your mouth, tasting the remnant sweetness of the drink he’d made just for you. Unbidden, your enjoyment of his lips' new destination on yours was made known through another rumble from the back of your throat His hands moved from where they had been resting on the counter to grab at your waist, pulling your body flush against his, causing a satisfied grunt to leave both of you.

The kiss devolved into something more carnal as he shifted his body and yours, pushing a thigh between your legs and pulling you by the waist to drag your panty-covered core along the jean covered muscles he raised for your enjoyment. Your low moan, straight into his open mouth, confirmed your enjoyment of this move. His excitement over this was evident as well, both from the enthusiastic way he delved his tongue deeper into your mouth, rolling it against your own, as well as by the decidedly hard tent in his denim that he dug into your hip each time he moved you along his thigh.

Your mouths parted with a string of saliva that was broken as he panted out his thoughts, “God, I’ve been waiting to do this all night.”

You giggled at his breathless confession. “In between our small talk you were thinking of me grinding on your leg?”

He smiled cheekily at your comment, pushing his thigh firmly against your rapidly dampening panties, sending a shiver down your spine. “Yes.”

You laughed again, but were cut off by his lips on yours again, bringing you into another open mouthed kiss. After encouraging you to continue to grind yourself along his thigh, Eddie’s hands strayed away from your hips. They grabbed and groped over your clothes, smoothing at times along the planes of your back, your thighs, wherever they could touch, spreading warmth and raising goosebumps in their wake.

They soon wandered beneath your t-shirt, pushing up the fabric as he slid his hands appreciatively along the soft skin of your sides before also pushing beneath your bra, moving it out of its supportive role. All the fabric bunched higher up your chest, freeing your torso for his wandering hands. You let out another soft sound as he began to massage your breasts, paying extra attention to the tight buds pressing against his palms – taking moments to pinch and tease.

He released your lips again to slide his open mouth down to your exposed chest, sucking and nipping at one tight bud, then the other, one hand helping to ensure neither was left unattended. As he lavished this attention higher, you continued to grind minutely on his thigh, not receiving nearly enough contact to lessen the ache that was building between your legs.

Your own hands, which up until this moment had been loosely hanging at your own sides or gripping his shirt at his sides, began to wander now. One pushed beneath his shirt to paw at his firm chest while the other slowly made its way down to palm at the hard length straining against the zipper of his jeans.

Eddie pulled away from your chest with a groan at your touch, kissing his way up to your ear as he pushed his need into your hand. “We’re not going to make it out of the bar,” he panted hotly as your head once again lolled to invite more attention from his mouth on the sensitive skin of your neck.

“That’s okay,” you breathed, melting once more as he lavished the skin you bore to him with further sucks and nips. You were bound to have a dozen little marks for all to see tomorrow, but the teasing you’d ensure tomorrow from the gaggle of girls you’d abandoned tonight was far from your consciousness.

You sucked in a gasp suddenly, having not registered one of Eddie’s wandering hands making its way to the band of your skirt until he pulled his thigh away from its place between your legs, a noticeable wet spot now adorning his jeans. You whined, the minute satisfaction you gained from grinding on his denim wrapped muscles taken from you, but you didn’t have to complain. Eddie’s hand pushed beneath the waistline of your skirt and panties, quickly taking a moment to cup your sensitive mound, rubbing his fingers and palm over the significant wetness that had built up in the midst of your previous ministrations.

“Fuck, your soaked,” he marveled, leaning back to look down into the gap his hand created in your skirt before looking up into your eyes with a self-satisfied smile painted over his features. Heat built back up beneath your face, hot on the back of your neck up to your ears, trying to wrestle your brain into coherence in your embarrassment, but he cut off your defense before it could stutter out of you with a hard kiss. “It’s fucking sexy,” he stated point blank after pulling back, before diving in to taste the inside of your mouth again.

His fingers slid against you once more, gathering your wetness before he easily pushed middle and fore into your waiting need, curling just so once inside to stroke the textured patch he found waiting for him. You moaned softly into his mouth, feeling the pride that sent through him as he grinned against your lips. He kept it slow and steady, moving out and in with that wonderful curl, all while grinding the heel of his palm into the bundle of nerves at the top of your mound.

It was maddening.

The ache between your legs grew steadily, a twisting sensation beginning low in your pelvis creeping up in intensity. You hand, while was loosely cupping Eddie’s crotch since he slipped his hand into your panties and effectively sapped away all rational thought, came up to clutch at the shoulder of his denim vest, the other gripping his chest beneath the fabric of his t-shirt. Your soft moans grew in frequency, and you broke the kiss to lean your head back as the sensations began to ramp up along with the pace of his hand.

Eddie stared at your heaving figure in awe as he brought you to your peak on his fingers. Taking in the breathy sounds you made with pride, along with the death grip of your internal muscles on his fingers as they pulsed in the waves of your pleasure. You eventually pushed at his wrist, telling him silently to remove it from your skirt, before pulling him into another kiss, this one filled with gratitude for his skill.

He pulled away from the kiss with a grin, which you returned as your hand slid back down to the crotch of his jeans. He groaned as you pushed your way inside his pants and boxers to slide your palm along his considerable length, spreading the precum that had built up along his cock. “Now it’s time for your turn, yes?”

Eddie grabbed your wrist with one hand to stop it from continuing, pushing his curls back with the other as he exhaled. “I’d love to see what tricks you have in that head of yours, but I’m desperate to get inside you – turn around for me?”

He didn’t need to ask twice, His blunt delivery was a little startling, but did nothing but ramp up the excitement you felt. The ache between your legs, sated a moment ago, burned again as you turned, bending forward onto the bar and pushing your ass towards the bartender. Eddie pushed your skirt out of the way with one hand, slipping a thumb beneath the crotch of your soaked underwear to tease at your still twitching entrance. You heard the teeth of his zipper release as he eased it down, some rustling, then that thumb was pulling your underwear aside as the length of him, hard and scorching, rubbed along your sensitive flesh and between your thighs to briefly pass along the most sensitive part of your, causing you to sigh.

“Condom?” you croaked out, a moment of sanity finding you as your chest pressed against the wood of the bar.

“Shit, yeah!” Eddie didn’t sound put out by your request in the slightest, minutely rocking his hips against your ass as he rustled behind you for his wallet.

There was a moment of cold anticipation, wet and sacred parts of you exposed to the open air of the bar as he put on the rubber. But the moment was quick, and soon his hands found your waist and his covered cock slid within you with little warning. A gasping moan left you, out of slight surprise and satisfaction, as he easily buried himself inside of you, your chest sliding slightly against the smooth counter.

Eddie seemed to take a moment behind you to compose himself. “Jesus christ, you’re tight,” he groaned, squeezing his hands at your waist once before beginning to move his hips back.

He started off slow, seemingly catching his breath from the initial penetration, muttering a continual stream of praise for your pussy, it’s grip, the view he had of your ass (“It’s fucking perfect!”), and then about your sounds. He went on about how hot he finds your breathy little moans, your delighted squeaks, the way you beg in whispers to keep going. Your body responded to the continual praise to his increased delight, your internal muscles contracting with pleasure as you hid your warming face into the bar as your hands gripped the edge to keep you from being pushed too far into the wood as his slow grinding into you picked up speed.

As his speed increased, his mind lost coherency, settling for pressing his chest into your back, wrapping his arms around you to cup your breasts, saving your nipples from their continuous rubbing against the lacquered surface of the bar. His voice was rough, mouth pressed to the side of your face, your neck, your ear kissing and swearing as he took pleasure from your willing body.

It became clear that he wouldn’t last much longer. His groans were becoming more incoherent, more frequent. He let go of a breast to bring a hand down between your legs, rubbing skillfully in tight circles around the tight bundle of nerves he found there with relative ease. The increased sensation caused you to tighten further, moans increasing again even as your position against the bar became increasingly uncomfortable.

“Fuck,” Eddie hissed as his thrusts stuttered into a grind, indicating his release.

His attention to your clit didn’t stop at the peak of his pleasure though. His fingers continued with a slight hiccup in rhythm for a moment before he found himself again. He continued to build up that twisting pressure within you, grinding his softening length within you, until you reached the pinnacle again, legs shaking against him.

Eddie removed himself from you slowly after a couple of moments panting together on top of the bar. He replaced your ruined panties back to their proper place before moving your skirt to cover up your bareness, caressing it as he did so. He removed the condom, quickly fixing himself up as you stood straight on your shaky legs to right your bra and t-shirt.

The silence felt deafening as you stood beside the bar you’d just desecrated. You looked anywhere but at the wooden structure as Eddie strode behind it, presumably looking for a trashcan. You really hoped that somebody would sanitize the surface of the counter before they open tomorrow, but you have serious doubts about whether that will happen.

“So,” you start, and Eddie’s head snaps to look at you, a smile still beaming on his face. “Can you still give me a ride, or…” Your nerves had begun to creep up, the heavy feeling in your gut back to weigh you down to the spot, bile and butterfly wings once again rising in your throat, threatening to choke you. Behind your eyes began to sting as you catastrophize in your head – you’d given him what he wanted to easily, without any effort, And while you didn’t regret what happened, you couldn’t help the thoughts that raised through you in the aftermath. Why would he need to keep being nice to you when he’d already got what he had wanted to do “all night” with you?

Eddie frowned, those brown eyes questioning as he listened to your half-formed question, the slight distress in your voice. “Of course!” He made his way back to your side of the bar, his hands twitching at his sides, unsure whether he could reach out to comfort you physically, or if you'd reject his touch now. “I can take you back to your cabin, or…” He trailed off, bouncing on his heels restlessly, looking unsure of himself, nothing like the confident bartender that had charmed you all night, or the man who just made you cum twice in fairly quick succession.

He didn’t seem keen on continuing, and this new nervousness from him helped comfort you some, so you pushed. “Or…?”

Eddie blew out a breath, swiping his curls back off his face again, looking anywhere but your eyes. “Well, I’d really like to take you out for breakfast in the morning. There’s this diner in town. Doesn’t look like much on the outside, but…”

He continued to stammer, laying out the positives of this local establishment, and you relaxed in his nervous blabbering. Eddie’s obvious continued interest easing your post-coital anxiety, You took a couple steps forward, reaching out to grab one of his restless hands with your own.

“Breakfast sounds great.”

Eddie stopped mid-yammer, a wide smile taking over his face, crinkling those dark eyes the way you found so charming when you first saw him. Using your connected hands, he began to pull you towards the bar’s entrance, now yapping even more quickly about where he would be taking you in the morning. This time, less a sales pitch and more an oversharing of his own feelings and experiences. You nodded along, smile bright and loud, butterflies softly fluttering within your stomach at this new start.