makes you scream, and when you try to cover your mouth he smirks, removes your hand from your mouth and says “keep making those pretty noises for me sweetheart”
smokes a cigarette in the middle of fucking you
knows exactly what to do when it comes to your body and how to make you make all those “pretty noises” and he KNOWS that he knows what he’s doing
makes you cum at least twice before he even thinks about getting his dick wet
he’s cocky cause he knows what he’s doing, because hes so in tune with you and your body, and he’s proud of how long he’s spent just studying you. the way you move, the way your breath hitches when he touches you, the way you relax into him when he holds you close, etc. he’s cocky, but he loves you.
Asking him if he still loves you while he's balls deep in a post-orgasm bliss and he just groans and goes "christ, I bought a ring last week" and that's how you find out he was planning to propose 👍
Could you possibly do one where reader is inexperienced and Eddie is eating her out and she is trying to squirm away but Eddie holds her down🥹
hehehe of course anon, Eddie eating pussy is one of my specialties. 🤭
pairing: eddie munson x reader
tw: oral (f recieving), inexperienced!reader, eddie makes stupid nerdy jokes (hot tbh), use of pet names (sweetheart, angel)
eddie munson masterlist
Your breath caught so hard it almost hurt.
One second you felt steady, half laughing, half shy beneath the weight of his attention, and the next you were squirming against the sheets because everything felt too close, too intense, too much all at once. Eddie noticed immediately. Of course he did. He always noticed.
“Hey,” he murmured, voice low and rough, one hand sliding firm against your thigh to keep you from twisting away as he slid down your naked form. “Don’t run from me now.”
You made a small sound you couldn’t help, embarrassed by how quickly your body gave you away, by how obvious it probably was that you didn’t know what to do with any of this. The heat in your face only made it worse. Eddie lifted his head from where he settled between your thighs, just enough to look at you, dark eyes steady, hair falling into his face, expression softened by something almost unfairly patient.
“You’re okay,” he said, quieter this time. “I’ve got you. I told you, sweetheart, it's gonna feel so good.”
That alone should not have made your heart slam harder than it already was, but it did. Your fingers tangled in the sheets, then reached for his hair for half a second, as he kissed you inner thighs, before you pulled back like even that was too much.
He smiles against your thigh, looking up. "Trust me, you can pull. Just wait till I do something you like so I know how good you're feeling, okay?"
You nod, unable to give him more than that. He was so patient with you through all of these new experiences, like he was just happy and honored to be the one to guide you through them.
He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your left thigh, then the right, and your skin tingled everywhere he touched. He was slow and steady, in vast comparison to your nervous energy.
"M'gonna taste you now, sweetheart." He murmurs, as he hooks his fingers in your panties to pull them down, revealing your heat to the open air.
Eddie hooks one arm under your thigh to keep you open for him, his gaze never leaving the wet, perfect sight of you.
"Pretty little thing you're hiding under those panties." He says, mostly to himself, before he's running a calloused finger up your slick folds to gather the wetness there.
The noise that rips from you is choked, surprised, as he brings that same digit to his lips to taste what was clearly just for him.
"Oh, angel, you have no fucking idea..." He trails off, then dips down to lick a slow, long stripe up your pussy like he can't wait any longer.
You squirm under him and his other hand comes easily to splay across your stomach, holding you, but gently. You don't run this time, mostly because of what he just did, partially because of the pressure. His arm across your tummy isn't restricting, it's steady.
When he laps at your core again, you sigh instead of gasp, and that seems to please him to no end as he gives a quiet hum against you before repeating the motion.
"Eddie..." You whine in a way that's so needy, it even surprises you.
Eddie seemed determined to find what drove you wild, testing out long laps versus shorter and slower ones, paying attention to how hard he was pressing against you and how it made you react, what made your thighs quake around his head and your breath stutter.
No one had ever done this for you before, Eddie was your first for everything and he always made you feel good. But this was better than all of it combined. It was like he knew how good something was about to feel before he ever even gave it to you. Maybe he really did have a magic tongue like he teased.
You squirmed a little more when he sucked on your clit, but the hand holding your tummy went to match his other.
He had both his arms under your thighs, keeping you on display for his sinful meal.
"Angel," he lifted his head, lips glistening in a way that was way too beautiful to be so dirty. "You gotta let me have my new favorite treat."
He didn't even let you reply before burying his face in your folds again, this time much more ravenous.
Your legs shake at an alarming rate now as you get close and Eddie notices, doubling down on whatever you liked most, he'd apparently found exactly that now, flicking his tongue exactly where you had told him you liked to press your own fingers.
His hair tickled your inner thighs, messy strands sticking to them as he worked, and you loved seeing him like this. So lost in tasting you that he looked entirely undone by it.
"Gonna eat this pretty pussy 'til you scream," Eddie slurs into your folds, drunk off of what you were offering. "That okay, sweetheart?"
"Please." You whined, already so close, so out of breath it felt like you had run a mile.
"Please," he repeated softly against you, before sucking your clit hard again, making you keen.
Your hips lifted off of the bed involuntarily to get closer and the small moans that left your lips as your orgasm washed over your left your throat aching from the pure intensity.
He kept going though, like it was for his own benefit now, to be able to taste your release directly from the source. He kept a slow and steady pace as you came down, lapping up all you had to give him like he didn't want to miss a single drop.
"Eddie..." You said, caressing his head. "Too much..."
He looked up with a small pout, but it turned to a smile when seeing how wrecked you already were.
"Mmm... okay, actual breakfast time." He said, before moving up your body to kiss you sensually, making you taste your own arousal from his tongue. "I need a little somethin' in my belly anyway. Got a big day of treating you right."
"Oh my god." You blush, rolling your eyes in playful disgust even though you were secretly melting inside.
"And then..." He gives you a devilish smile before whispering in your ear, as one hand trails down to your sensitive heat and swirls around the opening of your slit, "Second breakfast."
You smack his hand away playfully and he laughs like he made the best joke in the world.
"No, but seriously, I'm starving." He says, kissing your forehead and helping you up. "C'mon. Pancake time."
summary: Your shitty boyfriend's left you stranded. Again. This time, at the recording studio where his band has been working on their new song. It's fine though, because Eddie has something you can help him with.
content: 18+ mdni!!!!, rockstar!eddie au, no use of y/n, CHEATING—r is cheating on her shitty bf (plz don't do this irl; don't like don't read), porn w/o plot really, afab genitalia r (pinv), spit kink, exhibitionism (audio recording sex to sample in a song), eating it from the back but like over the back of a couch AKA oral (f! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), kinda condescension, pet names (sweet girl, baby, sweetheart, etc.), pussy pronouns, missionary on a couch, dirty talk
note: loosely inspired by that part of guns ‘n roses’ “rocket queen.” on that same note, title is from "rocket queen." edited at 2AM with stale eyes so sorry for any typos/grammatical errors :*)
word count: 6,874
It was close to midnight when you came to the startling realization that Jax was not coming back to get you.
You replayed Jax’s parting words. “Baby, it’s–it’s my sister. She, uh, needs a ride. Went out drinking tonight, you know how that is.” He was already halfway out the door of the studio.
“Oh, okay, let me just grab my—” You sat up quickly when suddenly he appeared in front of you, ushering you back onto the couch.
“Oh, no, no. She’s, like, got her friends with her, so there won’t be any room, but I’ll come back and get you, okay?” He guided you back to the couch with a kiss on your forehead.
“Oh…well, could you just drop me off at home first?” You didn’t really have a purpose for being in the studio without your boyfriend there.
He grimaced like it pained him to even say it. “I mean, I would, but I really need to—” He jutted a thumb to the door. “Don’t wanna keep her waiting, y’know?”
You didn’t know. “I can’t just stay here, Jaxon—”
“The guys are here, it’s fine. I’ll be back in an hour tops!” He didn’t give you any time to react before disappearing out into the night.
Slowly, Gareth and Jeff trickled from the studio, leaving only you and Eddie.
When you’d grown tired of just twiddling your thumbs, you finally called Jaxon’s sister, Suze. The phone rang for nearly a full minute before you heard, “...Hello?” She sounded groggy.
“Hey, Suze, just making sure you made it in.”
“Wh—Huh?”
“Jax told me about coming to pick you up, so I just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”
“He told you what? Sorry, I’m still half asleep—I haven’t seen Jax today.”
You sighed. Honestly, you should’ve known.
You muttered off apologies to Suze—Sorry, I think I got mixed up, goodnight—before hanging the phone back on the hook so aggressively it rang out in the quiet studio.
Peeking through the glass into the booth, you watched Eddie, the frontman of the band, pick at his guitar. You couldn’t hear him, but you could tell by the papers crumpled up at his feet and the way he seemed to be singing softly to himself that the new song wasn’t coming along as smoothly as the band had been hoping for.
You heard Gareth and Jeff grumbling about the track as they left earlier. It seemed they were at a stalemate.
You flopped back onto the sofa, snatching the Rolling Stone magazine from the coffee table. Of course, it was Corroded Coffin’s 1989 issue. You had this exact issue in your apartment, sitting on your coffee table too, actually, but you couldn’t help but drink in the cover like it was the first time you’d seen it.
Eddie stood in the middle, looking down at the camera. His chest was bare, showing the expanse of his pale skin littered with black ink. His guitar rested against his lower half, partially blocking his pants, but the shine of the leather was still noticeable. His fingers, adorned with rings, of course, gripped the neck of the guitar. One eyebrow was quirked slightly beneath his bangs; his lips were parted gently. You could see his tongue prodding the inside of his cheek.
Jax, Jeff, and Gareth were around him, posed similarly, albeit more clothed—almost every rock band of the era was going for this look—but there was something about Eddie that kept drawing your eyes back to him. He oozed charisma and sex appeal, even through the glossy pages.
You guessed that was why he was the frontman.
You flicked through the magazine, attempting to read the stories but inevitably skimming through them. You’d just read it too many times.
Not long after, the door clicked open and Eddie emerged.
His hair was sticking up like he’d been running his fingers through it (he probably had been). Despite it being just a studio day with no planned public appearances, he still wore a studded belt and rings on nearly every finger.
He blinked at you, stuttering out your name. “I didn’t realize anyone was still here. Jax said you had to go pick up Susan—”
“He,” you corrected, flopping the magazine back atop the table. “He went to get Suze.” You put airquotes around the latter part of your statement. Jax’s behavior wasn’t exactly a secret, so what was the point in even pretending?
Eddie’s forehead wrinkled like he was holding back a wince. “Shit, I’m sorry—and he just what? Left you here?”
“Said he was coming back to get me, but I guess he got too lost in whatever groupie’s pussy—” You sighed, scrubbing your eye with a fist as heat rushed to your face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
He shot you a small smile. It was laced with something close to pity. “I mean you have every right to be mad, sweetheart; he—” He raised a ringed hand to scratch above his eyebrow. “Honestly, I thought you were done after the Layna incident.”
Layna was a well-known Corroded Coffin groupie. Around a year ago, she’d totally disappeared from the scene, then reappeared three months ago with a baby, claiming Jax was the father. Too bad Jax admitted to fucking her before the paternity test came back negative.
You don’t think you could ever forget the way his face fell when he heard the news—like he’d wanted to be the father. You’d left for around three weeks before coming back that time.
It wasn’t even that you still had feelings for Jax. It’d be impossible for that at this point. It was more so just routine, and sure, maybe it was selfish, but you enjoyed hanging around with the band.
Drinking and hanging out with Jeff’s girlfriend, Livie, at concerts; dinner with Gareth and his wife, Aleah, on Sundays. Sure, you could’ve still hung out with Livie and Aleah without being Jax’s girlfriend, but you wouldn’t have had an excuse to see Eddie anymore. It’d dwindle to only seeing him on paper or grainy television screens.
You couldn’t imagine he’d hang out with his bassist’s ex-girlfriend.
“Yeah. Me too, to be honest.” You sighed. “How’s the song coming? It sounded good earlier.”
Eddie sighed back, moving to plop next to you. He let his head fall back against the top of the couch, his eyes closed. “It’s, hah, I dunno.” He turned to look at you. “Missin’ something, I guess.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” You wrung your hands together in your lap, giving him a small smile.
Sitting on the couch like this, your faces were close. You forced yourself to keep your gaze on his nose and above—no glancing down any further.
But Eddie didn’t abide by this rule. His eyes darted down to your lips. He must’ve not meant to do it because he sat up, resting his elbows on his knees and successfully hiding his face from you. He cleared his throat.
“Why’re you looking at me like that?” he asked.
You raised your eyebrows, but before you could answer, he sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions again. “Sorry—I’m sorry. I dunno why I—” He ran a hand down his face. “I don’t know why I asked you that. ‘M being unfair.”
“It’s—You’re fine.” You tried to keep your voice steady despite the confusion that was rising within you.
“Can I ask you something?” He was looking at you again.
“Sure.”
“Why are you still with him?”
You blinked. You couldn’t pretend you hadn’t been asking yourself that same question.
“Guess I just got used to it. It’s my routine…” You shook your head. “Honestly, I don’t know. He treats me like shit. Left me to go ‘pick up his sister.’ I called her, and she hadn’t even talked to him. I mean, I already knew he was lying…Well, I figured he was. Still, it–it fucking sucks that he sucks.” You laughed a little, self-pityingly.
You sighed again. You mumbled, “Dick’s good, I guess.” An afterthought to yourself, really. You weren’t sure why you said it to Eddie Munson of all people. It wasn’t like it made you look any less pathetic—only made it worse, if anything. You dropped your head in shame the moment the words left your mouth.
Why would you bring up your sex life with your shitty boyfriend to his very attractive bandmate—
“Yeah right.”
Your head snapped up and over to Eddie. For a moment, you thought you might’ve imagined it. “Wh—huh?”
Eddie, who any other time was the opposite of nonchalant, was suddenly cool and composed. He shook his head as one shoulder rose. “Just find that hard to believe, ‘s all.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from retorting,“You some kind of sex expert or something?” Oh God, why did you say that, why did you say that, he’s going to think you’re a total freak—
“Maybe. Never heard that one before, but I haven’t heard any complaints either.”
Heat rose up your neck.
Haven’t heard any complaints.
Suddenly you were plagued with the images of the girls you’d seen leaving Corroded Coffin’s shared apartment. Girls with makeup smeared across their faces, their hair a mess—even then you’d known just sleeping didn’t make you look like that, but you’d forced the thought from your head.
“Know I’m better than your shithead boyfriend, that’s for sure.”
You couldn’t stop your brows from shooting high on your forehead. Eddie was talking about Jax like they weren’t bandmates—weren’t friends. Your thoughts must’ve been clear on your face because Eddie added, huffing out a laugh, “You ever see me get along with him?”
Your gut instinct was to say yes, but the more you mulled it over…had you?
You thought back to last week at the bar. Had you seen Jax and Eddie speak? You could only remember Eddie addressing you. Then, a few weeks earlier, at their apartment for dinner…again, only you.
Your face flushed. You’d been so caught up in your own interactions with Eddie, you hadn’t even noticed the tension between the two.
“I could be better than him.” Eddie was so close, you could see specks of gold in his eyes. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip.
“What are you saying?” you asked, eyes trailing from the curve of his lips up to where his eyes seemed to be boring into you.
“I think you know what I’m saying.”
“Are you really playing games right—mmph—”
A flash of brown hair was the only warning you received before his lips met your own. Your eyes were wide and you were taken with how soft his lips were. Frozen, you couldn’t get your body to react.
Eddie was kissing you. He was kissing you, and it wasn’t weird. He was kissing you, and he tasted like cherry chapstick and tobacco.
He slowly pulled away, and you realized you hadn’t kissed him back—you’d just sat there, unmoving. His eyes darted away from you. “Oh Christ, I’m sorry I–I don’t know wh—mmph—”
You rushed forward, meeting his lips again. For a moment, like you had been, he was frozen in place, but he quickly relaxed into it. His hand met your hair, and you easily let his tongue into your mouth as his grip tightened on you.
You brought your own hands up to his chest as his hand shifted from your hair to your neck, tugging you closer to him. You moved together, the only sound in the empty room the slick clicks of your mouths.
Eddie pulled back, rubbing his nose against yours. “Can I ask you something?” His thumb was running up and down the side of your throat, and you worked hard to concentrate on what he was saying.
“Ye—” You cleared your throat. “Yeah.”
His eyes left yours. “Feel free to smack the shit out of me if you want—”
“I’m not gonna do that.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.” He didn’t look convinced, so you added, “I’m not gonna hit you, okay? Just ask.”
“Well,” he started. “I had this idea for the record—”
Okay. Maybe you would smack the shit out of him. “Is now really the time for that?”
“Yeah, actually.” He glanced from you to the recording booth. “The record—What it’s missing—” He sighed before starting again. “I think you can help me.”
You leaned back in his grip to laugh. “Me? I can’t sing, let alone play an instrument. I can’t even play the triangle.”
“I think you can do the kinda singing I need.” His eyes darted down across your body, and it felt like they’d shot lasers at you.
“Wh—I’m not sure I know what you’re saying.”
“I don’t mean to make assumptions here, sweetheart, but if we, ahem, keep goin’...” He nodded his head as he spoke, clearly choosing his words carefully. “Could we move it to the booth?”
“You mean—” You blinked and gestured a finger at the both of you.
“Yes.” He quickly added, “But only if you want to.”
“But…everybody’ll hear me.”
“Nobody has to know it’s you. I won’t say anything.” A small smile peeked at his lips. “It can be our secret.”
Your secret. Your secret with Eddie. It made you giddy like a schoolgirl to think about. You could be on the song. More specifically, you and Eddie having sex could be on the song. You didn’t want to dwell on why that made your stomach flip and your neck hot.
Everyone who bought the record would hear you and Eddie. Even before that, the band would hear you and Eddie. The band, including Jaxon, would hear you and Eddie—
“Oh my god Jaxon.” Your stomach flipped again but this time, soured. “I can’t believe I didn’t think about Jaxon—He’ll hear and–and he’ll know—”
“I thought you said you didn’t know why you were still with him?”
“Well, yeah, but—”
“This’ll show him he can’t get away with just treating you like this. He’s always blowing you off and treating you like shit. Somebody needs to show him what happens when you take a pretty girl—a good girl—who has always done right by you and you treat her like garbage.” Eddie’s chest was nearly heaving, and he looked down at himself slightly, like he wasn’t sure where all that had come from. “But—I mean—only if you want to. Of course.”
You swallowed. He had a point. I mean, where was Jaxon now? Definitely not with his sister, that was for sure. You thought back to the number of times he’d ditched you and were embarrassed to realize it was easily in the double digits just this month.
You frowned. When had you decided you were fine with being treated like a doormat? When had you decided that this was what you were worth—
Eddie must’ve interpreted your silence as rejection. “I didn’t mean to—I wasn’t trying to bash you or–or something. I just—You deserve better.” He took a deep breath. “You don’t have to do this with me. Or–Or you can, but we don’t have to—” He shot a thumb back towards the recording booth. “You can forget I asked. I can figure something out. It’s, uh, not a big deal.”
You wondered what ‘figuring something out’ looked like. Dropping the idea all together and trying something else for the record? Or asking someone else?
Your stomach rolled at the idea of Eddie asking another woman. You knew he wouldn’t have any issues doing so either. Part of you knew it was unfair to be jealous about it, but that didn’t matter.
You stood from the couch abruptly. You had made your mind up—honestly, you had made your mind up the moment he asked you.
“We can just forget this happened—” he started, but instead of moving towards the exit, you moved towards the door to the booth.
“Are you coming or what?” you asked, narrowly biting back a smirk.
You’d never seen him move so fast.
You tried to maintain your confidence, but something about Eddie melted it down to mush. “B-But is it—”
“It’s recording, sweetheart; don’t worry.”
You were both seated on a couch in the recording booth. You hadn’t ever thought of Eddie as muscular per se, but he’d pulled the couch from the studio into the booth effortlessly.
He cradled your neck as he planted kisses along your throat.
“Oh—Okay.” You were nodding, and you knew you should’ve been embarrassed at how desperate you were from just a few kisses.
Eddie sure didn’t seem to mind. His cool rings pressed against your neck as he pulled you closer to him. You braced yourself with both hands on his shoulders, quickly moving them to caress up and down his shoulders in an attempt to mask the fact you were truly gripping him for dear life.
Getting impatient at the attention your neck was getting, you grabbed his hand from your waist, moving it to your center. You felt his teeth as he smiled against you.
He pulled the button from your pants with one deft hand, and you bit back the jealousy that was stewing. How many women had he practiced on to get that just right? Not that you had any room to talk considering you had a boyfriend, albeit a shitty one, but—
You didn’t have time to overthink when Eddie immediately tucked your panties to the side to run agile fingers up and down your folds. You instantly noticed the calloused pads of his fingertips—that of a guitarist.
“Oh, sweetheart.” He leaned back to rub his nose along your cheekbone. “You get this wet for him, or is this just for me?”
For a moment, a stab of guilt ran up your spine, making you sit up straighter, but it quickly morphed to arousal when you felt the tip of his finger dip into you.
“Eddie, I—mmph—” He trailed his finger back up to dance around your clit, never quite giving you the pressure you needed.
“Yeah? Tell me something, baby.” He was still nosing across your face.
“D-Don’t wanna talk about him.”
“Hm, that’s right. You don’t need him when I’m here, huh?”
You shook your head shamelessly—the wetness between your legs had already given your desperation away.
Eddie smiled. “Sweet girl.”
You leaned into him at the nickname, making him chuckle.
Suddenly, he took a step back, pulling his hand from your pants, leaving you suddenly cold without the warm touch of his fingers.
Your lower lip jutted out into a pout, and he chuckled at you again. “I know. Here.” He tapped his fingers that had just been at your cunt across your lips. “Get ‘em wet for me, baby.”
You opened your mouth instinctively, wrapping your lips around the digits. Overcome with the desire to be good for him—to even remotely wreck him the way he already had you—you bobbed your head, taking his fingers down to the glittering silver along his knuckles.
He was watching you, his lips slightly parted as you gagged around his fingers. “Knew you’d have a sweet fuckin’ mouth.”
You gagged around him, the sound wet and humiliating, but you couldn’t be embarrassed—not when his mouth lolled open while he watched. You went to bob your head again, but he withdrew his fingers, leaving your mouth empty and waiting.
Without hesitation, he gripped your cheek, four digits on one side, his thumb on the other, as he pulled your mouth to his. He spread your saliva across your cheek with his fingers.
With your chest heaving, you could only peer at him through your lashes.
Eddie paused, drinking in your features. “Is–Is this okay?” He moved like he was going to retract his hand from your face.
You nodded eagerly, grabbing his hand to keep it there. You nuzzled your face towards his hand as best you could with his grip on you. “I—” Your face was warm, and you were starting to feel a little dizzy. “I like it dirty.”
For a split second, you couldn’t read his expression. But then, you noticed the sparkle in his eye. “Yeah? Sweet girl likes it dirty? I should’ve known.” He tilted your chin back. He planted a surprisingly chaste peck on your lips before murmuring, “Open your mouth.”
You blinked up at him, and God, all he could think about was painting your pretty fucking face with his load. Especially when your lips parted so obediently.
He didn’t hesitate to spit directly into your waiting mouth, not missing the way your thighs pressed together. He watched your throat bob as you swallowed his warm spit, shamelessly removing his wet hand from your face to adjust himself in his jeans.
“You like that, baby?”
You nodded, but that wasn’t enough. “Tell me,” he insisted.
“Yeah.” Your voice came out breathy and high. “Yeah, I like it, Eddie.”
“Fuck,” he practically groaned. “I need to see you.”
You didn’t need to hear anything else, instantly moving to pull your pants down, stumbling about in your attempts to be swift. You felt your face heat, but when you looked over at Eddie, he was too busy pulling his own belt from its loops and shucking his pants down to his ankles, just as desperate.
As if he felt you staring, he suddenly looked up. His hair was unruly against his forehead, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed deeply. His eyes darted from yours, and you could’ve sworn his cheeks were dusted pink, but it was hard to tell in the dim lighting.
You lifted your hips to finish pulling your bottoms over the swell of your ass, and Eddie quickly jumped into action. His jeans rustled as he kicked them off his legs. One foot got caught at the bottom, causing him to jump and flail until it flew onto the floor with a thump.
You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you.
Here was Eddie Munson—rock band frontman, guy you’d seen smash paparazzi cameras for getting too close—dancing around, trying to get his pants down his legs.
Somehow, he made it not dorky, though. Okay, maybe it was dorky, but he managed to make it charming.
“Whatcha laughing at?” He approached you again.
You would’ve thought Eddie was the type of guy to wear tight black briefs. In your head, he was in a perpetual state of chains and leather. But instead, he wore a pair of loose blue checkered boxers, clearly choosing comfort over his typical garb.
He put his hands against your pants at your knees, looking up at you from beneath his bangs. He raised his eyebrows at you. “Is this okay?” He suddenly sounded worlds smaller.
You nodded incessantly, helping him tug your pants the rest of the way down your calves. He balled them up and threw them in the general direction of where his own pants were.
You pulled at the bottom of his t-shirt, and he quickly got the hint, pulling it over his head.
You’d seen him shirtless plenty of times. There was the Rolling Stone cover (along with countless other magazines), outdoor Corroded Coffin shows where he’d inevitably end up shirtless, even days when he’d invite the band over to his fancy rooftop apartment to lounge by the pool in the summertime. But you’d never been this close.
Close enough to see the spot on his chest beneath his collarbone where the one of the legs on his spider tattoo was a shade more faded than the rest.
Your gaze shifted down his torso to the dark trail of hair that disappeared into his boxers. Suddenly struck with the fact you’d been blatantly ogling him for the past few minutes, you looked back up to his face quickly, expecting to find him already staring at you.
He was staring at you, just not at your face like you’d expected.
You couldn’t exactly pinpoint where his gaze was, but it was without a doubt far below your neck.
You were naked, sure, but something about the way he was so openly peering at you made you feel even a step past naked. It was like he’d stripped a layer of you back, and was looking at you completely. It made your skin prick with something beyond arousal.
For a moment, you wanted to sink in on yourself—you couldn’t name a time you’d felt more exposed. But the way his boxers were tented replaced any mortification with something hot injected straight into your veins.
He finally looked up at your face, shameless about being caught, and leaned in, closing the gap between you. Your lips met and his moved against yours like second nature.
His tongue licked into your mouth like he was trying to map it. You suckled at the warmth of his tongue as he began to pull at the hem of your shirt. You parted long enough for your shift to join the pile of the rest of your clothes.
Eddie’s hand met your face and caressed you gently, a stark contrast for the way his tongue was ravaging your mouth. Your chest heaved as you moved impossibly closer to him, centimeters from being entirely in his lap.
“Here,” he mumbled against your lips before softly turning you around until you were over the back of the couch.
Your breasts pressed against the top of the couch, your nipples pebbled on the rough fabric, as your knees sunk into the cushions of the seat. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t purposefully push your ass out, presenting yourself to him.
The wet spot in your underwear was growing uncomfortable and you were painfully aware of it as you pressed your thighs together in a lame attempt to ease the incessant throbbing in your core.
You sat up on your elbows to peer over your shoulder. Eddie was running his tongue over his bottom lip, and when you noticed the slight jerk of his arm, your gaze trailed lower to watch him tug on his cock slowly. You couldn’t help the way you arched your back further.
He’d dropped his boxers just enough to free his cock and for a moment, you (embarrassingly) hated you missed the exact moment he’d pulled it out—hated you missed the way it surely had bobbed up towards his stomach from the sheer weight of it once he’d pulled his underwear down.
He paused at the base to squeeze tightly, and God, it gave you the opportunity to truly admire it.
You knew he would be big. I mean, come on. It was clear by the way he acted that he would be packing. But shit, your imagination really had nothing on the real thing.
Thick and long—you were sure your hand wouldn’t be able to fit around its girth. Against his hand it seemed even bigger. A pronounced vein ran up the side to the rosy tip.
Eddie gave it another slow stroke, a smirk on his face. “Big enough for you, sweetheart?”
Your only response was the slight shift of your shoulder and chin.
He squeezed his cock, mumbling under his breath, “Too fuckin’ sweet.”
You didn’t have any time to react before Eddie was diving down onto his knees, his mouth latching onto your glistening pussy.
“Oh!” You jumped, and Eddie wrapped his arms beneath your thighs to keep your cunt held tightly against his hungry mouth.
He licked a stripe from your clit to the edge of your tightest hole. For a moment you thought his tongue was going to keep going right across, and you weren’t sure if you liked the way the mere idea of it made heat crawl up your neck, but he stopped to pull back.
“Sweet girl, even sweeter cunt.”
Cunt.
“Eddie,” you whined, feeling your heartbeat in your ears.
He sucked two fingers into his mouth before you felt them run along your slit.
“Yeah, baby?” He rested his cheek right below the swell of your ass. “Talk to me.”
Suddenly, you were hyperaware of the recording equipment surrounding you and picking up every word, sound, and rustle. You dropped your face to the top of the couch, rubbing your nose against it.
“Hey,” Eddie mumbled. His hand shifted and ran across the globe of your ass. “I can delete it if you don’t like it.” His other hand came up, then he was caressing the expanse of your ass broad with both his wide palms. “I’m still enjoying myself, okay? I’m not just doing this for the record, I…” You heard him swallow. “I think you’re gorgeous—fuckin’ perfect, really—and I’d be lying if I said I haven’t thought about you before…like this.”
Leave it to Eddie to make you blush when he just had his entire face in your cunt.
You lifted your head to peer over your shoulder at him. “No, no—I, uh. I wanna keep going. And I want you to use it for the record. I just—” You sighed. “I don’t wanna sound stupid.”
He immediately bristled. “You’re not gonna sound stupid.” He brought his hand down a few times on your cheek, not quite a spank. “Here, turn this way.” He helped you maneuver until your back was against the couch cushions. “Help me out, baby.” He pressed your legs up from beneath your knees, and you tucked your arms there, holding yourself open for him.
He made a low sound in his chest, and you realized how exposed you were. You didn’t get bashful though. You managed to keep yourself the way he wanted, even with the way you felt heat rising up beneath your skin.
“Don’t think so hard about it, okay?” Eddie said as he lowered himself back down to you. “It’s just you ‘n me.
And the recording, you thought, but his words eased you nonetheless.
You were suddenly thankful he had you holding your legs as his nose prodded your hole as he moved to suckle at your clit.
“Oh, th–that—yeah,” was all you managed to spit out.
“Mhm?” he hummed against you, and you swore you felt it down to your toes.
“Yeah,” you sighed.
A hand reached down to swipe his thumb across your clit as his tongue finally dipped into you.
You whined. “Please.”
“Hm? Talk to me, sweet girl, d’you want it?”
“Mhm, I’wan’it.” Your words all slurred into one another.
When you felt his middle finger prod at your hole, you couldn’t help the desperate sound that left you.
“Yeah? That what you need?”
“Mmhmm.”
“Ah…c’mon. Tell me.”
“That’s what I need, Eddie,” you quickly breathed out. In that moment, you would’ve done anything he asked you.
“There we go,” he said, more to himself, as he finally sunk a finger into you.
You couldn’t even be embarrassed anymore with the sounds that left you. You were so wet, you could hear the slick sucking sound everytime he fucked his finger into you, and he quickly added another.
“So wet. She’s sucking me in.” He didn’t even look up as he spoke. Your pussy was drooling around his fingers and down his wrist, his rings now coated with milky white. Your clit was puffy and swollen, peeking out with every thrust of his hand.
You raised your hips as he continued, following him as he curled his fingers up into you, hitting that spot. You hadn’t even realized your mouth had been wide open, sounds falling out freely.
“Ed—oh.” You bit your lip harshly. “Your mouth.”
He raised an eyebrow at you, never one stopping his ministrations. “Huh, baby? She want a kiss?”
You nodded eagerly, hands slipping along your thighs that had become balmy with sweat. “Yeah, yeah, please.”
“I’ll give her a kiss, baby.” The last thing you saw before he lowered his head again was the flash of his smile.
When his lips met you, you gasped. He closed them firmly around your clit and the wet sound was so loud you were certain the microphones were picking it up. You didn’t care anymore—you couldn’t care, not if it felt this good.
His tongue on your swollen bud paired with his fingers inside you—curling so perfectly you swore your vision whited out every time he did it—brought you barreling towards your release. You could barely pant out, “I’m–I’m gonna—” before you were cumming loud and unabashedly. He worked you through it, finally stopping when your whines got especially pitchy.
The moment he raised up from your core, you dropped your legs, now boneless. Your heartbeat was still a steady pulse in your clit. You caught your breath, swiping the sweat from your face.
“Good?” Eddie asked, looking a little too smug (though you guessed it was earned).
“Better than good,” you said, your voice already halfway ruined.
You sat up properly on the couch as Eddie maneuvered back over to his pants, pulling something from his pocket. He turned back around and now had a condom pulled over the length of his dick, making you sit up even straighter.
Once your legs had stopped feeling like jelly, you had had every intention of returning the favor. You started, “Y’don’t want me to—”
“No, no.” You heard the smack of his hand against his dick. “Fuck. I mean, yeah, sweetheart, ‘course I do, but I need to be inside you, like, now.”
“Next time, then,” you said, narrowly biting back a smirk.
He quirked a brow at you, not bothering to bite back his smirk. “Next time?”
“Yeah.” You spread your legs, making room for him. “If you don’t kill me first.”
He fit perfectly between your legs, crowding you against the couch. His gaze was glued to your slippery cunt as he tapped the spongy tip of his cock against your clit. He raised his eyes long enough to say, “Could say the same for you.”
He slid his length up and down your slit, coating himself in your juices. You tried to be patient, you really did, but when he tapped his head against your clit again with a wet squelch, you couldn’t help the whine that left you.
“Alright, alright,” he mumbled. He said it so gently and lovingly, you swore your pussy spit out another half gallon. “I’ll put it in, now you just gotta sing for me. You’ll do that for me, right?”
“Yeah, yeah.” You were nodding eagerly. “Please, please, please just put it in. I need it. I—oh—”
He sunk in easily, you more than prepared after your first orgasm, but his size still made your breath catch in your throat. He groaned like he wasn’t doing much better.
“She’s choking me, baby, fuck.” He sounded pained, the veins in his arm flexing where he was holding himself up over you.
It was a stretch, and you could feel every inch of him in you, yet you still clawed at his arms, wanting—no, needing more.
“More, come on, I need it all—” No quicker than the words left your mouth, Eddie pushed all the way in with a loud groan.
Now, it was you that sounded pained, but you’d never felt better in your life. It felt like he’d sunk completely up through your stomach and into your throat. You could feel him everywhere. Your head flew back against cushions and you gripped his bicep as you looked down where you were taking him.
He had been staring up at the ceiling, his mouth wide open, but when he saw where your gaze was locked, he lowered his own, and you watched as his neck all the way down to his chest grew red.
“Fuck, I’m, fuck—” He pulled out maybe an inch before sinking back in, like he couldn’t bear to pull out. He couldn’t. “She’s sucking me right in.”
Finally, he began to shallowly thrust into you and the grip you had on his bicep tightened as your mouth fell open. His heavy cock was splitting you right open and felt like it was hitting every spot, if that was even possible.
Eddie raised one hand to cup your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip. “C’mere, baby,” he said lowly.
He lowered his face to yours and spat right into your waiting mouth. As he did, he pulled all the way out, leaving his tip kissing your hole, before plunging back in completely. You didn't recognize the strangled, pornographic sound that left you.
His spit was warm in your mouth and you could feel your slick gushing from between your legs with every thrust of his fat cock. You were easily gripping him for dear life—both with your hands and your cunt.
He shifted until his dick was kissing that spot that he’d so easily found with his fingers. The sounds—your whining, his moans, the slick sound of your bodies meeting—seemed to bounce off the walls, and the recording equipment couldn’t have been further from your mind. All you could think was Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.
It seemed to be the same for him, the way your name left his lips in desperate puffs. “Touch yourself, please, I’m so—” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, but never once stopped his eager pace.
You dropped your hand between your legs immediately, your fingers slippery as they scrubbed across your clit.
“Right—right there.” You had squeezed your eyes shut. You were right at the edge of your release, you just needed— “Right there, right there, right—ohmygod—”
“Yeah? Yeah, baby? I got you, I fuckin’ got you—”
You clung to him, your vision spotty and your chest heaving, as you came with a loud whine of his name. He buried himself to the hilt with a shout of your name, the hair at the base of him borderline overstimulating your sensitive clit.
He dropped down against you, his cock softening inside you. His arms wrapped around you, and you felt he was trembling. You weren’t in much better shape.
“Are you—” He stopped to inhale shakily. “Jesus, you okay?”
You hummed. Your bodies were both slimy with sweat and other juices, which sounded more than uncomfortable, but you found the warm weight of him comforting.
He peered at you, petting your hair away from your face. “You sure?”
“‘M good,” you finally croaked. “You—I—” You paused to laugh, shaking your head. “I think you fucked my brains out."
He laughed, strands of his damp hair shaking with the force of it.
“Yeah, well, if that’s the case then you sucked out my soul.” He ran a finger along the length of your face. “You know, through your puss—”
“I get it,” you cut in, laughing. You glanced over to the window to the production room. “Think we got anything good?”
Eddie looked at you like you’d grown three heads before his lip curled, a devious smile on his face. “I dunno…might better do it one more time. Just to be safe.”
Six months later.
“Eddie, you gotta tell us, man.” The interviewer leaned over his desk towards him. “Everybody’s dying to know about…that part on the new record.”
“What part, Howard?” Eddie shot a knowing glance at the audience, which got a few cheers. “I know Gareth killed the drums on the bridge.”
The crowd laughed.
“You know the part,” Howard insisted, laughing. “I think everybody knows the part.”
“I think it speaks for itself,” Eddie said. “Don’t really have much to say on that.”
“Well, your fans have had a lot to say about it,” Howard continued.
“No denyin’ that, that’s for sure.” Eddie tugged at the collar of his shirt, making the crowd laugh.
“I think one of the biggest questions has been…well.” Howard shrugged. “I don’t know how else to ask it—but well, was it real?”
Eddie looked from Howard to the audience. Right before he opened his mouth to speak, the television flickered off.
“Hey!” you called. “I was watching that.”
Eddie sat the remote down on the coffee table before taking a seat on the couch next to you. “You’ve watched it at least ten times since it aired.”
“Maybe I was trying to make it eleven.”
He hummed, his arm coming around your shoulders. You melted into his side easily.
“How’s the new guy?” you asked, rubbing your cheek against his chest.
“Good. He’s a great fit for the band.” He dropped his cheek and rested it on top of your head. “Jaxon hasn’t tried to reach out anymore. Or showed up at the studio wasted, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“I’m not worried.” It was true—you weren’t. You knew Eddie would handle everything. He always did.
“Good.” He planted a kiss on your head.
You sat up and grabbed the remote from the table. He groaned as you turned it back on.
“You could probably recite this word-for-word by now.” He shook his head.
You pressed back against him, pushing your tongue to your teeth to prevent a smile.
“Everyone’s dying to know who it is,” Howard was urging. “At least give us a hint.”
On the screen, Eddie shrugged, clearly trying and failing to seem nonchalant. You couldn’t stop yourself from mouthing the words along with him as he said, “Well, it’s my girl.”
summary: Eddie’s 26, he’s had girlfriends before, he’s hung out at parties you threw with your college friends, and yet he’s holding back a secret that makes him feel like he’s missing out. You don’t mind fixing that little problem right up for him.
warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, oral sex (m receiving), A new budding relationship, Eddie’s first blow job, a pinch of jealousy
notes: Eddie, my baby 🥹😭🫶🏻 This started off as a CC Fest fic, and it quickly evolved into something else lmao. So I hope yall enjoy it! Big thanks to @iitsmandii and @keeryhours for reading this over and @peachyproserpina for editing!
After ten years of friendship, you’d lost track of how many movie nights had ended like this— curled up with Eddie on his couch, both of you pretending you weren’t gradually orbiting closer to each other. Like two dumb magnets circling the inevitable— you’d had the conversation last week, decided you’d give it a go, the whole dating thing. The trailer was cluttered, guitar picks scattered on the side table, an ashtray on the counter that really needed to be emptied, a laundry basket of Eddie’s clothes that had clearly needed a wash.
You were sitting sideways on the couch, your legs stretched across his lap. That old blanket you’d gifted him back before graduation draped over both of your laps. It shows just how hard it’s been loved over the last six years, it’s threadbare, carries holes around the edges that Eddie has asked you to sew and then never brings it ‘round, the edges are fraying and yet, it’s still his favorite blanket. Simply because you had given it to him and now as it’s slung across both of you, your foot sticks out from under it. He picks at a loose string on your sock while the movie, Arachnaphobia, flickers in the background, droning on and on completely ignored.
Your eyes drift over your best friend’s— no, your boyfriend’s— face. His eyes focused down on what his hands are doing. He pulls the string loose and tears it from the fabric, leaning forward to toss it onto the coffee table before settling back in against the cushions. You watch as lean muscle moves under the faded Iron Maiden t-shirt that was definitely not his. You knew Eddie’s wardrobe and you knew he had never worn this one before. You figure it was Gareth’s by the way it rode up a bit in the back when he had leaned up. You smile, watching as he shakes his curls out just slightly, sighing.
“I’ve been thinking about something,” he says quietly— chewing the inside of his cheek raw— but his voice comes off casual.
You finally meet his eyes, your eyebrows lifting in curiousity. “Yeah?”
He hesitates for a moment. It’s not dramatic, nor performative. It’s just long enough to let you feel the nerves bubbling up to the surface of his chest. He drags his hand upwards, his fingers pausing at your ankle. And then he runs his fingers up and down, rubbing gently at your skin. His fingertips are calloused and rough, but his palms warm, strong even. Your mind immediately drifting back to the way they had cupped your face the night he had told you he loved you at the feel of them. How he was so worried he’d ruined the friendship you had built up— he’d done it once before back in school, fucked up with a friend because his heart had gotten too involved. But you didn’t care, you just leaned into him, kissed him back, and—
“I’ve never had a blowjob,” he finally sighs, his eyes darting away from yours as his shoulders deflate. He leans back into the cushions, his index finger tapping against your ankle.
You blink, surprised. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.” He lets out a self-conscious laugh, afraid you were just teasing him for half of a second. His mouth quirks up in an embarrassed smile as his cheeks start to pinken. “Kind of pathetic for a guy my age, right?”
You shake your head, sitting up just a little as one of your hands slides around his shoulders. “No… It’s just a bit unexpected... You’ve always talked like you were a walking sex manual.”
He huffs out another laugh and shakes his head. “Yeah, well... High school was all fumbles and dry-humping, and college…” He waves a hand vaguely in the air. Eddie didn’t go to college, his memories were just visits that consisted of him and Gareth trying to bang your roommates and nothing more than that. “I got good at some stuff. Fingering. Going down on girls. I’m not a total idiot. But somehow, no one’s ever offered to, y’know…”
You give him a look, a mix of confusion and pity. You rub his back gently, his shoulders, the back of his neck. Anywhere you can reach to make him just feel. “No one’s ever gone down on you, baby?”
“Not once.” He laughs again, but it was a little tighter, like he had just revealed his darkest secret. He fidgets a bit, shifts his hips under you. His hand tightening around your ankle for just a moment as he spreads his thighs just a little to get comfortable. But if you two were gonna try this dating thing, you might as well know. “I had one girl say she’d do it later.” You watch as he pulls at another loose string of your sock, biting his lip, nerves apparent with the way his brows are knotted down, before he speaks again, “Later never came. A few others just weren’t into it, I guess. I never wanted to be that guy who begged for it.”
You shift just a bit closer, your fingers brushing his wrist that had settled across your legs. “That really sucks, Eds.”
He shrugs, trying to play it off, but his pink cheeks are a dead giveaway. “It’s not like I’m really losing sleep over it, just… sometimes I think about it. Wonder if I’m missing out on something good, y’know?”
You pause, letting the silence stretch thin between you. Then you leaned in close to him again, your voice a whisper. “You are.”
He looks at you, his eyes sharpening just a little at the taunt. “Yeah? Am I?”
You nod at him, biting the inside of your cheek before you let out a breath. “And I’d like to fix that… If you want me to, that is.”
There’s a moment where you swear the only thing you can hear is Eddie’s heartbeat— just one moment— but then he exhales and smiles, a real big one this time. Crooked and soft and fucking stunned.
“You’re being serious, babe?”
“I am,” you say softly and nod, the blanket falling to the floor as you shift to straddle his lap. You run your fingers through his hair, catching on knots that you work out carefully. “Dead serious. Wanna let me blow your mind?”
Eddie lets out a laugh, not being able to believe what was unfolding in front of him. “God, I must’ve saved a fucking kitten from a burning building in a past life or something for this to be happening.”
“This is just what girlfriends do, Eds. Calm down.” You roll your eyes and kiss him— slow, steady, your hand twisting slightly at a bit of his hair— and he melts like warm wax right into you. His arms slide around your waist, his breath catching in his throat when you rock against him just once. By the time you pull away, his mouth is hanging slack and his pupils are blown wide. “Take your pants off,” you giggle softly. “Now.”
He obeys like he’d been waiting for you to give that order his entire life. He fumbles with the button on his jeans as you slide off his lap, sinking to your knees on the floor in front of him. His cock was already hard and strained against the black fabric of his boxers. He hisses when you pull the waistband back, revealing his cock, flushed and heavy, the tip fucking glistening.
You look up at him from between his thighs and see something you hadn’t really expected to see, you never had before, not like this— he was flushed up to his ears, his breathing shallow. He was fucking nervous as hell.
“You okay?” you ask softly, your hand rubbing along his thigh gently.
He nods, swallowing hard. “Just… fuck. Yeah, I’m fine… this just feels really real now. Like we’re dating dating.”
You smile at him, rolling your eyes a bit. “That’s because it is real, Eddie.”
You lean in and press your lips to the crease of his inner thigh first, kissing gently as your eyes flick up to watch his breath hitch. Then you move, pressing a kiss just above the base of him, then lower, dragging your mouth along his length without taking him in.
His hands clench at his thighs, trying to find a place to rest them. “You’re really gonna take your time with this, huh?”
You hum softly against the underside of his cock, moving back to nudging your nose against the base of him. “Damn right I am.” When you finally move up and wrap your lips around the head, his breath leaves his chest in one shocked, broken exhale.
“Holy shit,” he groans softly, his hips twitching up as he squirms under your touch. “That— fuck— your mouth is so warm, Jesus Christ—”
You suck gently, letting your tongue swirl around his heavy length, then you ease down slowly, taking him into your mouth inch by inch. By the time your nose presses into that thatch of brown curls at the base, his thighs are trembling. His hands hover over your head uselessly, trying to decide whether to hold your hair or cling to the couch cushions beneath him.
You glance up at him through your lashes, to be met with the sight of him looking down at you like you were some divine cosmic event— his eyes wide, lips parted as a soft breath escapes them, his chest heaving. “This is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me,” he mutters softly. “And I once had sex in the back of a hearse, so that’s saying something— fuck, do that again.”
You bob your head just a bit more. A little faster this time, stroking what you couldn’t take in your mouth with your hand. He groans so loud at the feeling— tossing his head back against the cushions— you were sure his next door neighbor heard.
“Shit— fuck, baby, that’s— goddamn, I’m not gonna be able to look at you again after this without getting hard.”
You moan around him at the compliment, hollowing your cheeks, and he actually gasps, closing his eyes.
“Oh fuck, okay, okay— if you keep doing that I’m gonna— shit— fuck, I’m cumming—”
You don’t stop, your mouth working him through it. His hips shallowly thrusting up into you with each little grunt from the back of his throat. You swallow everything as you pull away, then give one last gentle kiss to his twitching tip as he slumps against the back of the couch.
You climb back up beside him, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You settle yourself back into your earlier seat, toss your legs back over his lap, and drape the blanket over both of you again.
He stares at the ceiling for a moment, completely still. His chest rising and falling slowly, but his mind racing. He’s never gotten a blow job before that, but you sure as hell have given one. It pangs deep in his heart. Some guy from your college got your mouth before he did? If he thinks too hard about it, his chest may combust. So he shakes it off, and then he laughs, “I am literally never going to shut up about this.”
You laughed. “I’d be disappointed if you did.”
He turns his head back to look at you, bright red cheeks adorning his face, still catching his breath. “You just gave me the best orgasm of my entire fucking life, and now I have to figure out how to go on living with that.”
You smirk, moving closer to him settling in against his chest. He throws his arm around your shoulders, rubbing your lower back as you whisper, “You’ll manage.”
There’s a long pause between the both of you before he chuckles, “…You’re gonna let me return the favor, right?”
You raised an eyebrow. “Eventually.”
He grins. “Cool. Cool cool cool. Just making sure. Because I’ve got a lot of fucking pent-up blowjob karma to balance out.”
