sel @cowboylikemunson - Tumblr Blog

cowboylikemunson

Jan 31

daenysthedreamersblog

IF YOU'RE TOO SHY (LET ME KNOW)

i see her online, all the time

i'm trying not to stare down there while she talks about her tough time

summary: he's just looking for something to jack off to before he goes to bed. instead he finds you.

pairing: modern!eddie munson x camgirl!reader

word count: 19k

warnings: MDNI! swearing, smut, sex work, masturbation (m and f), drinking, smoking (cigs and weed), oral sex (m and f receiving), overstilm, edging, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dead parent mentioned.

notes: yes this is a modern AU but i try to stay rooted in 80s lore if u just ignore the laptops 😛

"Arwen was the Evenstar of her people, the most beautiful, doomed shining figure within the gloaming of the elvish race."

He fumbles in the dark with the laptop pushing the screen up trying to use the light to see the little buttons as he types in the website. He missed the days when magazines did it for him until the rude invention of the internet. Now, he was overwhelmed half the time searching for porn he was too tired to even jack off. Mostly he just missed women; it had been a minute since he had sex, winter had always been his slow months. But in this moment, after a long day, he's itching for something, anything to take the edge off of his twitching cock; a quick jack off into his hand and then he'd be able to sleep. He scrolls mindlessly through trying to sort all the videos and links to pages that would land him on his happy ending.

Click, scroll...

Hot Singles Near You

Click, click, scroll...

Step-bro walks in on me...

Everything was so corny. Nothing, absolutely nothing but shitty fake pornos greet him then...your face pops up. It chest tightens at the sight of the selfie of you, nothing special, well besides everything. You're pretty and it intrigues him enough to click on it to lead him to your page. There are no odd titles that would lead to comically bad acting in a sex film. It's filled with locked videos, content he had to pay for, which was the new thing nowadays he heard from his younger friends. He nearly exits the website all together when the little red circle around your photo pulses.

Come chat with me :)

He clicks on it.

You're on your bed, white lace bra straps tracing your shoulder as you lay facing the camera, legs kicked up behind you. You have lights hanging around your room casting you in soft pinks and purples while you bite down sideways on pointed iridescent nails.

He unmutes you letting your angelic voice fill his quiet room. "I'm thinking about getting a cat." For some reason that makes him smile; it's such a mundane sentence instead of the whole 'I didn't order the large sausage pizza! I don't have any money!' that riddles this website. You're not even naked, well you not fully clothed either, but you were hiding it from view. "Yeah, gets lonely over here, be nice to have someone to take care of."

Ah, he gets your schtick now. It required patience, a connection that would no doubt land him scrambling for credit card numbers to keep you talking. He bites.

'What kind of cat?'

You bite your lip to stop a stolen smile as you read his message. "Haven't seen that name before DungeonMaster86. Welcome, and I don't know, no preference." You've shifted, rolling onto your back and Eddie nearly drops his laptop with how fast he moves it to sit it on his bed between his legs to take you in. "Just want a good personality ya'know..." You give a soft laugh; Eddie mimics it even though you can't hear him. "Ragdolls are cute. I also love those cats with tortoiseshell coats."

You're talking about fucking cats and his cock is stirring. It's your voice, the way you use it with random strung together words, the way you moved your body to let him see the swell of your breast beneath white lace. He wishes he could reach through the screen and cup his palm around them. He watches your fingers trace the little frills along the edges of the straps.

"What about you Mr. DungeonMaster? Have anything to warm your bed at night?" You push yourself up onto your elbow pouting at him through the camera. "Or are you lonely just like me?"

His cock is fully out now. No wonder the chat was blowing up as men fight for your attention; you were too damn good at your job. Eddie struggles between stroking himself or keeping your eyes on him.

"Just me, well...and my sweetheart (my guitar)."

You chew on your knuckle as you read it. "I bet she's a cold lover." You push up from your bed exposing the top half of your body to him. He groans as his hand begins to stroke up and down on his cock. You still have that stupid bra on, and he wants to rip it off with his teeth, he imagines the noise you'd make if he did it. It has him working himself faster. "You should play for me sometime."

He wants to type back that you could have whatever you wanted but he's too busy fucking his hand to your face, your voice as the conversation steers away from him. You're sitting on your bed, knees angled outward for him to see the beginning of the matching white lace underwear you wore. "Fuck," He swore and he figured surely, you'd take something off. He's so close, he can feel the orgasm waiting for a glimpse at your naked body.

"Well guys I'm gunna take a break, but I'll be back shortly on my private sub." You smirk and it feels just for him. "Hope to see you."

The screen cuts black. "What?" His cock stutters and it's almost painful holding his cum back as you disappeared before he could finish. "What the fuck!" He's too lost to care as he digs in his jeans for his wallet to type in the stupid numbers to pay for your private subscription.

Then he waits, tapping against the sides of his laptop. His cock twitches and spasms in anticipation leaking pathetically for you to let him finish. After 5minutes and 32 seconds, the screen brightens back up. Your eyes scan the list of names only you could see. "DungeonMaster86." You say so surprised and he's already touching his aching erection again, "Thanks for joining us on the dark side." You sit up again; you run hands down your body admiring the little white lingerie set you had on. "Also, thanks for the set KingSteve it's so cute." You reach your hands behind your back and unhook the bra letting it fall onto soft sheets. Your breast stare at him, heavy, needy, and his hands itch to squeeze them to mold them into his palm. You do it for him, kneading the flesh with your own hands, pinching your nipples taut.

This fucking KingSteve comment pops up, "Looks even better off."

Eddie rolls his eyes ignoring it as he jacks himself off to your playing with your own tits. Who the fuck was this guy and how was he sending your lingerie?

BillyTheLifegaurd: "Yeah so much better off :)"

He takes his hand off his cock for a few seconds to type, he wants these guys to stop, he wants you to talk to him. In the past 10 minutes of discovering you, he wanted you all to himself. He types, "White isn't your color." A blatant lie to simply piss you off enough to acknowledge him.

Your brows furrow at the comment. "Oh? You don't think I look good in this? Well then," You're on your butt knees up and wide as your fingers slide down beneath your underwear. "Guess you don't have to see it." You shift forward onto your hands and knees gasping suddenly as you rub into your clit no doubt, but he can't see well anymore.

"Shut up @ DungeonMaster86" KingSteve writes.

BillyTheLifegaurd adds, "Yeah knock it off."

"Aww," You whine breathlessly. "Don't chase him off boys he doesn't know the rules." The rules? He's fucking his hand more furiously as he watches your hand move to dip inside of your needy cunt. He hates himself for making you move, no wonder these guys did too. "If you're mean to me you can't watch."

"Apologize." CopperHopper now chimes in.

It had Eddie quickly typing out with one hand, "So sirry its prfect."

You giggle and take it moving rolling back onto your back letting him see everything, letting him watch as your hand thrust in and out of you pussy, as your other hands squeezes your nipples. So perfect. He thinks as the pressure builds more precum slipping out making his hand slide up and down his cock with ease. You moan out and gasp and he can't help it as his naval gives a tug. "Oh fuck!" He can't help it, and cum shoots out of his cock all over his computer screen where you kept fucking your own hand. He felt like he was in high school again, unable to even drag it out to find enjoyment in it. He's still softly stroking himself as he hears the whine leave your throat, your body stutters a few times, and then he watches your chest heaving post orgasm.

You give a soft laugh, "Who knew you boys fighting over me would get me all hot and bothered."

He's searching for a towel, tissues, a dirty shirt to clean his cum off of everything. He wipes it off the screen taking in the creamy sight of you searching around your bed for an oversized t-shirt. It's a black Iron Maiden shirt and Eddie can't help but falling in love with you right then and there. He watches you push your white underwear down your legs and twirl them around your finger. "I'll explain the rules while we all recover since we got a new face here."

Eddie slides the laptop up his bed so he can lay on his side to listen to you.

You're up walking around your room, large shirt hanging against your naked thighs, "No being mean to me, I'm a sensitive gal." You're by your back wall, a big white dresser with a record player sitting atop of it. "I know tensions get high in that chats but keep it lighthearted; no threats." You pull out a vinyl, sliding it out of the case, and setting it lightly onto the record player to begin playing. It's fucking Father Figure by George Micheals and the laugh that tumbles out of him is involuntary. "You buy it, you get it." You reach over the manila envelope and drop your soaked panties into it. "These are going back your way KingSteve."

You're perfect, a kindred soul who was obsessed with things beyond your generation with your George Micheals vinyl and Iron Maiden shirt. In a time before your own maybe you two could have been in school together and he'd throw rocks at your window to let you sneak in instead of jacking off to you on a screen.

"Can I send you something?" He types for you.

You hop back onto your bed, chin resting on your knuckles. "Of course. I use a PO box it's in my bio." You smile, "I'm so glad you joined our party DungeonMaster86, is that when you were born?"

"No, they're just random numbers." He wished he sounded cool.

"That's too bad," You pout. "I'm a sucker for the 80s, right Hop." You joke. "Thanks for the vinyl by the way."

CopperHopper: "Knew you'd like it ;)"

Eddie feels out of his depth here, but he types anyways. "I like a lot of the heavy metal from the 80s."

You smirk, "You must like my shirt then." You chew on your bottom lip, "Better than the white set?"

"You'd look good in anything."

He doesn't care that there's probably hundreds of people in this chat, some who were your 'regulars' some just like him who had been browsing. You were mesmerizing, enticing in a way that had him sad you were just beyond his reach. "Aww thanks you guys are so sweet to me." You sit up again cross legged, the shirt hiding your nakedness from sight. It kept everyone hooked, the anticipation of your next reveal, savoring any piece of skin you offered. "I hope I was everything you were looking for tonight." You throw your hands up in joy, "And hey I reached my goal for the night, so I think I'm gunna head to the shelter tomorrow to meet some friends."

He leans his head down on his pillow listening to you talk, he doesn't know when he closes his eyes, but it's your soft voice that lulls him to a deep sleep.

ONE MONTH LATER

You consume him in a way that isn't fair. He can't stop thinking about you, about your voice, your face, your pussy. He reads your stupid rules, he writes down your PO box without a thought and sends off a black lingerie set with his high-school club t-shirt, making sure to spray every cologne he has so it smells like him.

You go live almost every other day but in the time you're not online he's forced to go through all of your older content to jack off to. It's so good. It's too good. He knows why your fans are loyal, are patient as every video is more vulgar than the last. They've seen you in everything and nothing, in every position known to man getting yourself off to various sex toys. It's great content, but Eddie prefers those quiet moments. Those moments when you tease them with the slow removal of clothes, like he's there and he's peeling them off of your body. Those soft touches, and little glances. The whimpers and gasp as you touch yourself towards the camera.

And he should log off, because he's covered in cum and you're finished and there's no reason to stay. But you always put on a record and start to talk, and that, that's what has him salivating for more.

It's a Friday. He's lost in his thoughts with you, thinking maybe you got his package and you'll wear it after you cum tonight. He thinks of your wet cunt, of how it would yank him in and squeeze him tight, how it would taste divine. He wants you so bad, he wants to find you and fuck you and never let go. He wants you to scream his name, his real name.

Instead, Gareth whacks his shoulder. "Hey earth to Eddie."

He's moping at the bar, swirling around a half full bottle of beer, while his friends chatter behind him. "Huh?"

"We asked if you wanted to go that other bar down the street." He asked.

Jeff chuckles, "Yeah they got this new machine that lets you request songs from your phone." Eddie looks around the dive bar full of people much older than him. "And... more chicks."

He didn't want more chicks; he wanted you. He checked his phone, "I'm gunna have a smoke and head home."

"What?" Gareth stares at him.

"I'm tired." He pushes off the bar stool and heads outside digging in his pocket for a pack of cigarettes. The two idiots follow him outside as he lights one up and tucks the pack away, "I'm sure you two can handle yourself without me."

Jeff nudges him, "Yeah but you're so much better at pulling them over to us."

It's true; he was very charming, except at pulling you away from your fan club. He inhales deep letting the smoke yank you out of the crevices of his brain, it would be nice to actually fuck a girl again instead of his fist. It feels like betraying you. "I had a long day at work." He tells them again. "You have to fly the nest eventually."

He begins to walk back towards his van, "Next time Munson!" They shout after him, and maybe next time he will listen. But it's getting late and you're waiting for him behind a screen hopefully wearing his clothes. He keeps an eye on the clock as he drives home careful not to get pulled over to delay him any longer.

Then he's inside throwing his keys carelessly on his counter and rushing back into his dark room. He needs to do laundry as he trips over piles of unwashed clothes; he's forgone a lot of responsibility since meeting you. He pulls his laptop over to his bed and flips it open already having your page up waiting for the return of your face.

"Hello friends." You greet when the screen finally lights up. His heart picks up as he sees the curve of your body wearing the black lingerie set he sent you; you got it, and he'd get it back soon enough. "How's everyone's Friday night?"

Henry001: Better now :)

You smile, "Oh I'm glad. Did any one have plans tonight? I see we're missing a few pals."

CopperHopper: Cleared my night for you

You giggle, "You all spoil me rotten."

Eddie finds himself typing: I ditched my friends at the bar for you.

Your smile falters a smidge as you read it, but then you tsked. "Bad bad boy DungeonMaster." He's hard instantly at your scolding and you lean back on your hands letting your breast sit so nicely in the top he bought you, "Is it because you knew what I'd be wearing."

A man can dream. He writes you back gliding his hand up and down his weeping cock. He watches as you slide the panties down and lay back, knees wide putting yourself on full display as you start to touch yourself.

"God damnit." He hisses and he doesn't want to close his eyes and picture your hand over him, your hand stroking him because the sight before him was too glorious. You glistened in the LED light, he loved watching the way your hands disappeared inside of you. He hears the soft vibrations of the little vibrator you sometimes used on yourself. The minute it touches your throbbing clit it has you moaning so loud. Your hand thrust in and out faster as the setting turns up on the vibrator; your back arches as you groan against teeth.

He can't handle it and he wants to be there, he wants you to use his hands to get off. He knows your fingers aren't long enough to reach what you so badly need, but you try, relying too much on the toy working your clit to chase your high. "That's it." He whispers to himself hoping you could hear through metal, "Come on get there baby."

Your body curls in on itself as you cum, as you gush around your own hand and onto your pretty sheets. His thighs tighten and cum shoots all down his hand, little spurts of it shooting out as his legs continue to twitch from his own orgasm. He's prepared this time, well kind of, as he uses an old towel thats hard in some places to clean himself. Yeah, he needed to do laundry.

You lay there for a minute, breathing, and all he wants to do is kiss your forehead. Your hand slides out of you and you toss the toy aside before sitting up with the flush still in your pretty cheeks. "I think the batteries are dying." Is all you say then you're standing up and he nearly cums again when you pull his Hellfire shirt on.

You look so fucking good in it, the way it lays on your naked body like it always belonged there first, like he had designed it just for you. He can't even focus on what you're even saying anymore, he can't stop looking at you and hating himself for being on this side of the screen.

He puts his head in his hands as it spins like your many records, letting the noise of you fade away until it's all just static. He needed to stop; it was becoming too heavy in his chest, like a tightening that wouldn't stop until he could feel the softness of your skin. It was bordering an obsession that made him call off work just to look at you all day.

Ping!

His head snaps up, your name in a little chat bubble at the bottom of his screen. "Well guys I'm gunna call it a night see you all so soon." You blow a kiss and the screen goes black.

"private chat w me."

It feels forbidden to have you outside of all the eyes of people you attracted. He clicks on the chat icon anyways; he has just enough time to turn his own camera off before your face pops up again. "Did you seriously bail on your friends for me?" He's not sure why but your voice sounds different; casual, normal. He supposed he had a different customer service voice too.

"Yes." He's types.

You roll your eyes, "You can use the mic now I only mute in that large of a setting."

He's not sure but talking directly to you seems too intimate, and not wise for his growing fetish of you. He types to change the subject, "Don't want to listen to the sound of a hundred guys cumming at once?"

You're taken aback for a second, then you laugh, "That was funny. You're funny. How old are you?"

"27"

"Me too. Well, I will be soon my birthday is in a few months." You nod; he knew that it was in your bio. "Okay good I don't feel bad about doing this." You get up quickly his shirt riding up showing the bottom of your ass just slightly, he groaned into his knuckles. You returned with a bottle of wine and a mason jar pouring out a hefty amount. "Don't judge me. All my wine glasses are dirty, and I haven't had time to do them."

He doesn't at all; he's just more of the same and because he's jealous and possessive and will hate himself after he gets the answer he asks, "So you invite all the guys for a private chat?"

"Sometimes." You smirk over the rim. Then it falls with your sigh, "Only the favorites."

"I'm a favorite?" His grin is wicked as he types it.

You chew on the side of your red nails, a bad habit you seemed to have when you were trying to be coy. "Well really I just wanted to show you something." His heart picks up two beats and he's leaning forward. You're off the bed in a second completely fleeing your room until you come back holding a small object. It's not until you're closer to that the object picks up its small head to peer around curiously. "I got a kitty." You beam as you plop back down on your bed. "She's not actually a kitty, she's like two, but I call her kitty because I haven't picked out a name yet."

She is pretty, with the tortoiseshell coat you had seemed to admire. "What name were you thinking?"

"I don't know, something cool." You pet her head settling her on your crossed legs resigned to not move so she could lay there. "I've been so busy getting her settled and buying her the stuff she needs I haven't even thought about it." The cat closes her eyes, pushing into your hand and purring.

It's such a simple mundane thing to watch you tend to a cat, talk about it, he forgets the pretense to your attention. It feels like a video chat between two lov-! "Arwen."

"What?" A look of shock flashes over your face with furrowed brows, even the cat stops purring.

He shakes his head to himself as he keeps typing, "Arwen. She's a character from Lord of The Rings; it's a movie, well really it's a book first. She's great...thought it be a cool name for a cat."

You let out a disbelieving chuckle, "You're such a nerd!"

"You couldn't tell by my name?" He finds himself laughing too, he doesn't really feel like you're making fun of him.

"No." You fall sideways laughing, your cat hopping away, "I thought you were just into some really kinky stuff. Also, I know what Lord of the Rings is."

He bites back a smile, "No I'm into Dungeons & Dragons you freak."

You take a deep breath, sip on your mason jar full of wine and pop up on your elbow. "What's that?"

"You don't want to know."

You nodded, "Oh yes I do my dear DungeonMaster."

He can't tell if you're flirting or being sarcastic, but he likes it either way. "It's just a fantasy role-playing game," Your eyebrow shoots up, "Not-not like that. The DM, me, makes up the story and sends the 'characters' on adventures." You seem like you're actually listening to his half-assed explanation. "I ran a club for it back in school. I made that shirt you're wearing for it. All the members have one."

You look down at the shirt, "If people see me on the street wearing this will they know?"

It makes his jeans too tight the thought of you out in public with his clothes on, "No, it was a small, very niche, club. Not just anyone could get in."

"But I can?"

"Only the favorites can." He doesn't know why you're doing this with him, if this is some grand scheme to keep him hooked or if you genuinely liked flirting with him alone.

You roll in your stomach, legs kicked up behind you letting it ride up on your ass again, "Does it look good on me?"

"Better on you than it ever did on me." He can't help it he palms himself, eyes fluttering slightly at the contact.

Your little smile falls, "Were your friends upset?"

"They'll get over it."

"Don't forget to live." You whisper frowning at him. "I'll always be here for you."

He tries to keep things light, he hates when your lips curve downward, "Wine got you philosophical huh?"

"Yes!" You point an accused finger. "I'm not even supposed to be speaking with you."

You made his heart race too easily. "Why?"

You waved him off laying your head on your folded up arms watching him. "It's only for premium subscribers, and I charge per video chat." His heart sinks, "But if I initiate it in a private chat the website doesn't flag it and you don't have to pay to see my ass."

He stares up at his ceiling and looses a big breath because what the fuck did that even mean. You searched him out for a free private video call? "You don't have to..."

"I know." You give a lazy smile, your eyes twinkling in a hazy way. "I wanted to show you my pussy."

A beat, "Your cat." He says to himself as your laughter echoes through his computer speakers, "I hate you." No, he doesn't, he never could. "So why did I get the discount?"

You shrugged picking your head up as your cat jumped back up onto your bed. "I don't know." You scratched behind her ears, "Are you touching yourself?"

"No."

You give him a half-lidded stare, "Do you want to be?"

He was hard, yes, but he wanted something more than that from you. "No...let's just talk."

Your lids flutter at the refusal. You're not used to someone not wanting your naked body. You shift, laying your head back down the same time your cat curls next to you. "Arwen. I like it." Your cat sneezes, "Yeah forreal what the fuck did you spray on this shirt it's so strong."

Monday, your package arrives as he's leaving for work. He's running late but he can't stop himself from ripping it open inside his house. He's so careful as he pulls the black lace underwear out of the package the little pink sticky note falling to the ground.

a tithe for my dungeon master

You pressed a kiss to it in red lipstick. He's sick, he's deprived as he brings it to his own mouth pressing his lips to where yours had been. He feels like he's kissing you, and with your used panties in his fist he's instantly hard. Did you know you did this to him? That you drove him down some perverted lane of need. He brings the underwear to his noise and nearly collapses as he inhales the heady scent of you.

He does eventually collapses onto his couch, open mouth against your kiss-stained note, underwear scrunched up in his face, and hand stroking his cock. "Fuck." he hisses and he closes his eyes tight pretending you're underneath him.

So good to me. You'd whisper as you'd wrap your hand around his cock, running painted nails down him as he'd stutter into your palm. Gunna fuck me good too huh?

"Yes." He groans into your hand; you're underwear halfway into his drooling mouth. "Wanna be inside you so bad." In his mind he's deep in your wet cunt, pounding down into you with hopeless need. You'd wrap your legs around him, letting little gasp fall from pretty lips. He'd make you cum just like that, make you moan out his name, his name.

Eddie. You say so sweetly with the grit in your teeth. Oh Eddie. He's rutting against his hand wishing he was submerged in you, wishing his mouth was on your skin instead of nose deep in your underwear. It's the closest, he thinks, to ever getting you, to ever smelling you, tasting you as his tongue licks at any fabric that meets his mouth.

His thighs tighten and he's cumming into his hand, into his couch, spilling out everywhere for you. Except you're not here, and it's just his hand around him. It's so quiet, and now your underwear smells like his saliva too. "Dammit!" He throws them down against the couch. "I hate this, and I hate you." He points at the sticky note and underwear. "Stupid girl."

He gets up to wash his hands, splashing water on his face to calm down. That's it. He's done. He'll end his subscription tonight, block you if he has to so you can't drag him back. He was just another part of your paycheck, you didn't actually care about him, and he can't keep wanting you. It wasn't allowed.

"Shit." He glances at the clock and hurries to the door. He takes one more look at your used panties, and with a deep sigh he picks them up to stuff them in his pocket. Then the broken envelope catches his eye, well the stamp catches his eye. He slowly picks it up and stares down at it; it looks like that fucking stupid mall they closed down a few years ago due to some big fire. And lo and behold, right underneath it reads STARCOURT. "Are you fucking serious?" You lived in the same fucking city as him, potentially had been in a mall he had been in. It doesn't make any sense and seems too good to be true you'd be that close to him. Perhaps you had a stamp fetish, maybe you reused stamps other people sent in, he can't even remember what stamp he used, let alone the zip code he wrote down, for all he knew it was his own stamp.

He tries to stifle his rising hopes. as he races off to work.

He spends the next few days scavenging the web for any sign of you. He finds your social media pages, researching relentlessly late into the night for some sign he could pinpoint the truth behind the stamp. You mostly just post suggestive pictures of yourself, occasionally a picture of your coffee, and now your cat; Arwen, he loves that you chose the name he suggested. And it doesn't help all your comments are off and likes limited. It takes searching through tagged photos of you to find what he's looking for. It's from last year; it's you holding one of the containers of shaken lemonade standing in front of a Ferris wheel. As he zooms in closer, he can read the sign HAWKINS FUN FAIR, the one they held every year in the summer. He would know, he's always trying to play at it.

He stares dumbfounded at his phone screen he barely registers the small cry on your lips as your body curls in on itself with the orgasm. He had already cum five minutes ago, but he couldn't move, hypnotized by finding out more about this dreaded stamp. His cum was cold and hard against his knuckles. He closes his phone as he watches you pull the little sex toy contraption from yourself and toss it off the bed with a shaking breath before he gets up to wash his hands. He can hear you speaking, responding to horny comments until the water running washing away your voice. He needs to move on, shut his computer and sleep dreaming of a way to find you in this life, but he just sits up in his bed with you on his lap.

It was hitting too close to home. "My birthday is coming up next weekend." He types suddenly like you fucking cared. You raise your eyebrows at his comment, but don't acknowledge it. You continue talking while some modern song you liked playing in the background. He frowns, he's so stupid, you didn't care about his birthday. He's half tempted to shut you out when his little private message tab lights up.

Doing anything fun DungeonMaster?"

"Probably go to some dumb bar with my dumb friends."

"Will you ditch them again for me?" You smirk while maintaining some facade for your live.

"Depends," His smile only grows. "You gunna do something special for me?"

You let out a breathy laugh; your cheeks are so flushed still from your orgasm, "What do you want me to do?" You probably have so many people messaging you, begging for attention, yet you give it to Eddie. It was blurring lines beyond the messy ones he already drew. "All right friends I'm going to call it a night." You blow a kiss and turn the camera off.

He watches the three little bubbles in your chat with him, "I can do something special for you. Give me a day when you're free, we can throw you a little party on the live." His heart begins to pick up again at the thought of you doing all of that for him. "What's your favorite song? I'll play it."

"My music is an acquired taste." He cringes internally.

"I've been known to dabble in everything." You pause. "I remember you said you liked heavy metal, that's not extraordinarily odd." He smiles into his fist that you remembered that. "I like some hard rock, mostly Sweet Child O' Mine and some Led Zepplin."

" Boo boring."

"Okay yes, if it's 80s music, I'm mostly always choosing pop." He did adore that you liked the classic stuff instead of this new boyband bullshit that kept popping up. "What about Teenage Dirtbag! It's right in the middle and One Direction did that awesome cover."

He gasped to himself, "I almost believed you were cool for like two seconds until you mentioned a boy band."

You can practically envision your glare, "If you don't tell me I'll play their songs every night for the next week."

"I won't show up, no big deal." He's lying and you know it.

"Yeah, right like you'd ever give me up."

He sighs, "I guess I'm hooked on a feeling baby."

"Is that it? Because I love that song too."

"No," He shakes his head laughing. "How about, you play me something you'd think I like."

You take a long time to respond. "Wait. I have such a good idea." And that was that you never said bye or what you had planned. It was radio silence from you.

He's smiling dumbly at the screen, then it begins to slide off his face. He closes the laptop and crawls into his empty bed. Maybe he'd get a cat, name it after you. No that be too weird. Maybe he'd name it Aragorn to be with you in some cat universe way. He hugs his pillow pretending it's you and closes his eyes. Then they're flying open again to find that picture of you at a fest only his town held. He tries to find reason, that maybe you were just visiting a cousin or old friend. His pining brain clings to delusion instead.

The next morning he's running late again to work. "You're late." His manager, Robin, yells to him. He just waves her off; she had a soft spot for him. He's worked at this record store for 4 years now with her, and even though she's technically his boss, she lets him get away with a lot. Only because he doesn't snitch on her for stealing records behind the owners back. She runs a podcast on the side where she reviews music and talks to artist; he always begs her to let him on so his music could take off.

"What music?" She'd always ask.

He's glare at her. "I'm in a band Robin; Corroded Coffin, we make music."

She'd shrug and walk off, "Never heard of 'em."

"You're sorting all the returns." She doesn't even look up from her phone as she directs him. He groans, stomps his feet, but goes to grab the cart anyways. It's not like there was anything else to do, record stores were a dying art as everything went to music streaming apps; no one even really had CDs that much anymore. Except Eddie, he likes making mixtapes still. And you, with your record player and growing vinyl collection.

He sighed spinning the record case around his fingers before slotting it in its place. He's pushing the cart down the shelves of gospel music when the door chimes.

"Welcome in." He hears Robin's monotone voice greet a customer. "Let me know if you need any help."

"Hi." He stills nearly dropping the record he was putting back. He was going crazy, surely, as the voice that came floating up the aisle sounded so much like you. "Thanks, I will." No, no that definitely sounded like you, did he do some hard drug and forget? Was he still stuck in a dream state? There was no way you were here right now, and then the stamp floods back into his brain.

He peeks his head out from behind the shelf he was hiding behind and nearly passes out. It is you. You're here. You're really here in this fucking podunk small town of Hawkins, Indiana. He's walking towards you before he could stop himself figuring you must be a figment of his perverted imagination.

"Looking for anything particular?" He asked leaning against the rack of records, hoping to every god you thought he looked cool.

You're flicking through the labels trying to find a certain artist or genre he wasn't sure. You have on a long tan wool trench coat, and a thick multicolor scarf wrapped around you. It's the most clothes he's ever seen you in, and it's the most beautiful you've ever looked tucked down slightly into the scarf. "Where's your heavy metal?"

He's smirking at you now, "You don't look like you're into that kinda music."

"It's for a..." Your fingers stop moving as you look over at him. "Someone else."

Did you know it was him? Did you recognize him somehow? You don't seem to let on you know he's the one you speak to behind a screen, that he's seen every inch of you naked. There was no way perhaps to ever truly know it was him. You've never seen or heard him. "Well then follow me." He's leading you back through racks and shelves of records until he hits the genre you're obviously only looking for, for him. "Haven't seen you around here before?"

You keep looking barely glancing at him as you speak. "You have not." It's not even an answer to his obvious question, and you don't disclose any more information.

"Far drive?"

"Not really," You shrug leaving him too much inference on that statement. "I only have one heavy metal vinyl. It was either this or scavenging through Sabrina Carpenter vinyls at Barnes & Nobles."

He crosses his arms the small grin plastered to his face. "Specific. Your friend doesn't like Miss. Carpenter?"

You shook your head biting your lip to hide a smile, "Maybe, he definitely doesn't like boy bands so I'm getting him one of those too." His heart flips as you talk about him, to him. "He wouldn't tell me his favorite song so I'm going to torture him."

"Kinky." You chuckle and he gets lightheaded at the sound. You're here. You're here next to him, speaking to him as if he never found your sex channel in the first place. He wishes this was how you met him, not with his dick out and cum all over his hands. "Well, if you want torture." He reaches forward plucking a Metallica record near you, his fingers brush your own as he slides it up towards you, the shockwave of your touch hitting his spinal cord. "He'd probably enjoy this."

"Master of Puppets." You smile down at it. "How fitting." You blink up at him, and he wants to go to his knees in front of you begging you to just give him one kiss, one kiss then he could die a happy man. "Do you have anymore? I wanna get a bunch of different things he might like."

"What's the occasion?"

You're looking at the back of the record as you answer, "His birthday."

"Keep up then." He motions for you to follow handing you various records to add to your pile; Iron Maiden(of course), Dio, some Ozzy...things he liked.

"You guys have a lot of good albums here." You brush hair away from your face and his fingers twitch to touch it, smell it.

He puts his hands in his pockets shifting back and forth on his heels, "Any other stuff."

"I think I'm gunna get some Queen." You smile slightly.

"Any specific album or song?"

You nodded, "The Works, specifically Radio Ga Ga."

He beams at you, "You know your music kid." He points to your stack of heavy metal. "Sure he would like it?" He'd like anything you did.

"Who said it was for him?" You brush past him and his eyes roll back; you smell so fucking good; bergamot and golden vanilla toffee, it's sweet and cozy and he wants to bury himself in your layers. "Would it be more in the pop section?" You walk away from him, and his eyes meet Robin's staring at him behind the counter.

'Get her number' She mouthed. Eddie furrows his brows not understanding anything, 'She's cute...flirting..."

He didn't agree with the latter half of that statement, but then again, he sometimes got confused if you were flirting with him online and then he remembers that's quite literally your job. He chases you halfway down the aisle, "Are you guys getting together for his birthday?"

You shake your head, "No he doesn't live by me." He wasn't sure if you knew that he, in fact, lived very near you. Then again you must send so much out did you even remember writing his address down when you sent him mail. Or you're lying.

"He must live close if you're...friends."

"We're not really friends," You shrugged. "He has plans anyways...probably."

Eddie leans closer to you just to take another deep breath of your smell getting new hints of cashmere and marshmallow. "He's dumb then, I'd make you my top priority." He's not lying; you were his top priority.

You scoff as you smile to yourself pulling up one more record case. "Oh, this is perfect."

He groans internally; in all its beauty is One Direction's second album. "We shouldn't even have that." He says going to grab it from you.

"This is why you come to smaller shops," You're giggling as you push him back, but he fights off your hands to try and grab it. "This is probably worth $300 on eBay."

"No it's trash." You're tangled up in his limbs fighting him on this stupid album, laughing through the whole store. "It should be $0."

You cackle loudly, a snort even slipping out, "Give me my trash."

"No, it's bad for your ears I can't let a beautiful woman fall victim to these dweebs." You still, and he realized you're against him; body pressed against him with twisted arms around each other wrestling for the record.

You stare up at him, and you're so close, so close he can see the small split on your bottom from chewing it. You clear your throat and step away; he lets you take the album. "Thanks."

"It's your ears that will suffer." He can't stop looking at your face.

You roll your eyes, "No not..." You tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. "Yeah thanks...." You look around his shirt for a name tag.

"Eddie." He offers.

"Eddie." You repeat and his left knee buckled at the sound of you saying his real name. You offer your name, but he already knows it.

He leans against the shelf trying to be cool, "Hey so maybe we-!"

Your phone dings loudly. "Shoot." You dig it out of your bag staring intensely at it, deflating in front of his eyes. "I gotta run, I forgot I have a business call." Ah so that's what you called it. You don't say anything else as you turn and take your pile of records to the register. "Hi." You let Robin scan them all.

"Hiya." She keeps smirking between you and Eddie, "So you two were laughing up a storm over there."

You look up from your phone then tuck it away, "Oh uh yeah, I guess. Disagreement over talent."

Eddie rolls his eyes spreading his elbows down over the countertop picking at the corners of all your records, "You from around here?" You smirk and refuse to answer anything related to where you live. He supposed years of working with strange people on the interest made you cautious. He figured he was different, but he really wasn't. Robin leans in close to loudly whisper, "Did he at least get your number?"

You chuckle, "No, no. I-I'm not-!" You're not that type of girl, not the one who exchanges numbers and goes on dates. Eddie is so selfish because he wants to force you to be that kind of girl. He wants to rip down your whole naked page and keep you all to himself.

"Oh, come on how can you say no to those sad brown eyes." Robin motions to him and he gives you a sheepish smile.

You gather up your bags, "Very difficultly." You still, rushing around the counter and grabbing a book; he didn't even know they sold books. "Actually, can I get this too." It was a fucking Dungeons & Dragons players handbook. Why did you even want that? He watched you in stunned silence pay for the large thing and give them both a small wave before heading for the exit. The bell chimes too loudly with your departure and all Eddie could do was lay his forehead on the cool resin of fake wood groaning.

"You'll get em next time pal." Robin pats his back. "Maybe this is karma for being late."

"Fuck off." He mumbled into the counter. "I'm gunna take a smoke break." He pushes off and heads towards the back exit flinging the door open into the snow. He leans against the old brick and fishes out a cigarette, cupping his hand around the end to light it. "Fuck." He fucked up. You were right there. Every smell, noise, touch was beneath his grasp, and he let you slip away.

"Hello friends!" Your voice is so bright, and he can't help but smile at you. "I have some very special news." He sees you eyeing the list of names in the chat as people keep joining. In the quiet he hears the music you're playing; it's an Iron Maiden song from one of the albums he chose for you. "We have a birthday today!"

"I love this song." He types out.

Your smile deepens, "I knew you would birthday boy!" You back up and you were true to your word as his shirts hangs against your body. "Did you get my other package?"

What? He's flying out of his seat running through the cold weather to his mailbox fishing out the small little box. He rips it open with his bare hands letting the little black controller fall into his hand. He races back inside to type a response, "Yes."

"Good." You nod then slide from view to reveal this large contraption behind you. "So the remote controls her," You slap the large seat, "Controls how fast, how hard she vibrates, anything you want to do to me sits in your hands." He's so hard now it hurts. "Now tonight I'm going to desperately try to cum for how many years you've been alive, so I am thankful the numbers in your name are not a birth year."

28. You were going to try and cum 28 times, for him. He's dizzy. He needs to tell you no, you'll for-sure pass out.

KingSteve: ur so lucky @ dungeonmaster86

"I got a whole rack of records for you so let's get this started before I chicken out." He eyes the remote in his hand, and his cock in the other before looking back to you climbing onto that beast of a sex machine. You shouldn't be doing this for him; you shouldn't be doing this at all. He yearns to tell you to stop, to just talk to him, that's all he wants from you. But he's so fucking selfish, and he's too far gone to care about feeling sorry. It's his birthday, what was wrong with having you all night tonight.

He hits the on button hearing the machine stir beneath you, and the small gasp come out of your mouth. You rock your hips against it and he closes his eyes.

He pictures you're on top of him; he's lying in your bed his favorite songs playing behind the two of you. He's got his fingers deep within your hips as you slide down onto his cock, wrapping your wet heat around him, surrounding him. "Fuck,' he hisses as his cock is fully submerged within you and you moan out at the fullness of him. You'd work him slow, gently rolling your hips against him, gliding your clit against his body to let the whine fall out of your mouth. He'd reach up, cup your full breath, mold his fingers into your skin until you curve your body around him, let him wrap his tongue around the peaked bud.

"Eddie," You'd whisper into his skin and your scent would intoxicate him into a frenzy that would have him buck his hips up into you until you whimpered out his name in a pathetic jumbled sentence. He'd make you fuck him faster, meeting your thrust with equal force to make you feel him hit deep inside of you. He'd press his fingers into your clit to feel that delicious clench around him. "Want your cum." You'd moan, "Please let me feel it."

"Want it bad baby huh?" Your nails would dig into him as you nodded, "Cum for me first, come on show me what I like." You give a small scream as you'd clamp around him, gushing around his cock until finally he's sporadically thrust up into you as cum shoots deep inside.

'So good to me," You'd kiss him soft, and slow with a gentle caress of your tongue in his mouth. He's so depressed when he finally opens his eyes and his own cum is splattered all over the place in the cell of his room.

He does, however, hear you actually scream and he glances down in a panic realizing he cranked up the settings in his daydream. "Okay, okay I need..." You can't breathe as he hurries to shut it off. "I need water." You collapse onto your bed. "Twenty-four more to go."

His eyes bulged, you came four times already while he was lost to his own imagination.

BillyTheLifegaurd: Come on you can do better than that!

CopperHopper: Yeah, gunna need to start working up into the 40s for my birthday :)

Eddie grimaces as he types, What's your max?

You take a large swig of water wiping sweaty hair off of your face, "13." You peel his shirt off your body exposing naked breast and he's suddenly okay letting you keep going. He just wishes there was no audience. He watches you switch the song, and it's that fucking boyband. You laugh, so proud of yourself, that it has him mimicking the noise. He remembers you're sly face picking it up, the feel of your body against his as your fought him, you're engrossing smell.

It has him hard again.

You get back on, and his post-coideal depression washes away with the determine look in your eyes. "Wind me up dear dungeon master."

God damn you. He starts slow again, trying to imagine it's his tongue on your clit working the orgasm out of you. That he'd press in gentle, sliding along your throbbing clit as your legs spasm beside him. He'd hold them down as he ravages you, as he feels your claws digging into his scalp. When you cum again, it's in his head, with his face buried in your cunt lapping up every drop you'll give him.

In dreaded reality, he's fucking his fist while he cranks up the setting. He's gasping as you gasp, he's moaning along with you, willing it to be his fingers, his face, his cock making you whine into your fist. He doesn't even care that some teenybopper is hooting and hollering in the background; he just feels you.

He cums again once you do for the eleventh time. He can tell you're faltering as each time is more pathetic than the last. You barely can make any noise, you're covered in arousal, and your lids hang heavy. You need to stop. He leaves it on the second setting as he cleans himself off realizing you're determined to do anything for him today. He wishes he was in your room, dragging you off that thing to bring you into the shower; to take care of you. To wrap you up in him.

By orgasm number fourteen your eyes roll back, and you fall sideways off of the contraption. He struggles to get a grip on the remote to turn it off. You lay there, passed out, and he's watching the small rise and fall of your chest. He lets out a sign of relief as you finally pick your head up, "I think...I think I'm done."

Henry001: Get back up there you can do more.

DungeonMaster86: You did great :) Please rest.

Fuck this creep. "I need to change the song." You're so wobbly as you push up slightly. "I know you just love these guys." He finds himself smiling that you were still able to joke, that you were alright. You crawl to the edge of your bed, leaning down to pull his shirt back over your head. "Ugh," You swing your legs over using the dresser to support your weight as you stop the record and take it off. "Good song to end on, though I think our roles have switched." You slide out the Metallica vinyl and set the needle. "You've been pulling my strings all night my dungeon master." You crawl back onto your bed to lay in front of the camera, "I met the cutest guy this week. He helped me pick out a lot of the music."

DungeonMaster86: Please tell me the boyband was his idea?

You chuckle softly, "No, all mine. He called it trash." You sigh, eyes dissociating. You try to smile but it doesn't reach your eyes. "Happy Birthday DungeonMaster86." You groan trying to push yourself up, "I won't be on tomorrow, I'm going out, but I'll try to post some pictures. Goodnight my friends."

The screen cuts black.

You were going out tomorrow, he didn't know where or when, but it had to be close to where you lived, where he lived in some vicinity. It's crazy, the idea that pop into his head, one that surely could get him charged with stalking, but he has to try. It's his birthday, he owed it to himself the chance at seeing you again in the flesh.

The next night, when his friends gather around him, waiting for him to get in the car to go to their normal bar, he probes them with the offer, "Hey hey why-why don't we try a different place for my birthday?"

"Huh?" Jeff asked.

Eddie waves his hands eccentrically. "Just ya know feeling a change of pace, of...music." They didn't believe that too well, as none of them much liked pop dance music.

"Will there be chicks?" Gareth and Jeff nudge each other.

Eddie rolls his eyes; he did hope there would be a singular chick there, but he tried to keep his hopes low. "Probably."

They shrug and 30 minutes later they're walking towards the large line down the block. Eddie uses the wait to smoke a cigarette while he's outside wondering how the choices he made ended him with this version of life. "Ew." Some girl says in front of him cringing at his cigarette while she inhales a vape.

"What?" He asked inhaling deeply and blowing it out of the side of his mouth.

"Those things are like so bad for you."

Her friends chimes in, "Yeah and they reek."

He glanced down at their vape, smelling their strawberry scented air, then looked back at them expectantly. They just cringed more and turned around. He smiled, "Feels like high school all over again."

Gareth and Jeff cringed at him too and turned around. They're forced to pay the cover while the two chicks in front of them walked in free, but he pays it no mind as loud music pumps in from all around him. It's a lot to take in. He can't see shit in here as lights flash all around him and suddenly, he does regret coming here as even if you did show up to this specific club he'd never see you.

"Come on we can get some...drinks." They suggest and he pushes through the crowd towards the bar not even able to sit anywhere. The bar closer to home was always empty, always random stools to slide into while you waited for your drink. "You sure you want to stay here?" One of his friends ask but he can't make out who.

He gives a small nod, "We already paid the cover, let's see where the night takes us." Six shots are pushed their way, "If it totally sucks we'll be back at our old haunts in no time." They knock back all of them and try to take that advice.

The music isn't his first choice, but he tries to dance. The people seem a little too young, even though they're probably his age; he's just out of his realm here. It's like they have rocks in their head all containing some kind of dazed look in their eyes.

"Wanna do some coke!" Some girl stares at him while he is mostly moving his head side to side to music in front of her.

"No." He laughs; she just shrugs and walks away. Yeah, he's out of his depth here. His friends seem to be over it as well even as girls filter in and out of them. He's about an hour into this confusing night when he's thinks to throw in the towel to head back to their normal dive bar.

But the chords of Sweet Child O' Mine begin to play and his heart picks up too fast the same time it begins to skip along to some remixed beat. His eyes are searching for the DJ booth frantically as the beat drops with the sound of the Guns N' Roses' song. It had you written all over it and then finally lady fortune throws him a bone.

You're here. You're here, elbow against the DJs shoulder as you point to things on his computer. You're laughing and all he can do is admire you, as you were lit from within. You wore a mini dress with a cowl neckline that in this light he couldn't tell if it was blood orange or brown, a leather jacket hanging slightly off your shoulders; it was scandalous in a mysteriously sexy way. You adjusted your mini black purse as you took a sip of your drink nodding along to the remix of an old song.

You threw your head back and laughed and as you righted yourself, as you let your hair curtain around you, your eyes seem to find him standing stagnant on the floor staring back at you.

He felt that stare from behind a computer, feeling it in person was another thing; this sensual look of intrigue as you took another drink. "Eddie." Someone was saying. "Eddie!" His eyes snapped to Gareth waving a hand in front of his face. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm gunna..." He glances up and you're gone from the DJ stand like some phantom who was never here. He pushed back his friends and tries to find an opening to the bar but changes his mind and goes back out front. He's shakily digging through his pocket fumbling for the pack of smoke to light one off, to calm his nerves. He came here to see if you'd be here, and now that he'd had seen you, he was fucking terrified of fucking up again.

He barely takes a drag when your voice cuts through his quiet. "Are you stalking me?"

He glances over at you in the middle of his second breath before exhaling the smoke. "What?"

You walked closer your little black heels clinking on concrete. "You work at the record store yeah?" He nodded as you entered his space, leaning on the brick wall beside him taking the cigarette from out of his fingers, pointed nails scrapping against his skin. "This doesn't seem like your scene."

He watches you inhale his cigarette knowing it would be too suspicious if he told you it was his birthday. "Trying something new."

"And?" You ask as you blow the smoke back in his face. "How is it?"

"Loud," Your eyes light up as you hold the cigarette out for him to take, "Overrated."

"Eddie, right?" He loves the sound of his name on your distracting lips; he forgets to nod.

He points back at the doorway, "Did you request that song?" He puts the cigarette to his mouth tasting the flavor of your lipgloss.

"How'd you know?" You laughed stepping a single step closer to yank the cigarette back. "I'm old friends with the DJ; he lets me put in requests...within reason."

He watched you take a deep inhale. "You don't vape."

You laugh sarcastically as you hand it back your fingers lingering too long on his hand. "No, those things will kill you, haven't you heard." He takes one more drag before stomping it out, by the time he looks up you're gone with the smoke he exhaled and his fingers twitch towards the open doorway. An invisible string has a knot behind his stomach dragging him back inside to the heavy bass filled club. He pushed towards the bar leaning cramped elbows against the countertop.

"Three beers," He orders then glanced around him wondering if you would pop up like some figment of his imagination, like some demon bent on sucking his soul out finally. You didn't. The bartender returns sliding three bottles towards him, three shot glasses following closely behind them. "I didn't-!"

The bartender gives him a dead look pointing off into the distance. Eddie follows his finger to find you in the middle of the dance floor with a raised drink towards him, then you're slipping beneath the waves of bodies. Eddie mindlessly makes his way back over to his friends trying to balance everything until discarding his loot into their hands. "It's your birthday you shouldn't be getting us drinks."

"It wasn't me." They share a look and Eddie throws back the shot. "It was a girl."

"What girl?" They laugh at him, and he's eager to prove his own point that you did in fact exist in this town.

Eddie glares and tries to find you. You're finally easy to see, like some golden aura surrounded you in the flashing lights. You had taken your jacket off revealing bare shoulders as you dance with yourself and he sometimes has to remember he has seen you naked and shoulders shouldn't bother him so much. "Eddie what the fuck." Gareth shouts at him pointing to you. "Who the fuck is that?"

"She-!"

"And why is she buying you drinks?" Jeff adds

Eddie gives them an offended look, "Hey rude. She came into the store earlier this week and then she saw me smoking outside."

"Yeah but she's hot." Jeff looks him up and down. "And you're..."

His voice goes up an octave. "Excuse me? Who is the one always pulling chicks for you two?"

"Well are you gunna go over there?" One of them asked, but he couldn't take his eyes off you.

"What?" He takes a drink of his beer finally glancing at his friends.

"Kinda seem like..." Slowly their eyes trail to you dancing in the middle of the floor to some loud thumping music. Your head was hung back, hair cascading down bare skin as your hands twirled above your head, hips swiveling to the chaotic beat. Truthfully you seemed lost in your own world, lost to the world as it moved around you.

But you looked over your shoulder at him with those fucking half-lidded fuck-me eyes and he was gone as well, yanked into your gravity. He gives in to you so easily. He chugs the rest of his drink before setting the bottle down moving towards you before he could change his mind until you're dancing in front of him with a smug smile toying on your lips. It's random house music blaring down at him while various colors flash around your face. You move in close to him taking small sips of your drink as you sway in front of him.

"I have a confession." You shout at him as all he can do is watch you. His heart sinks, this was it, you're going to tell him you knew he jacked off to your live streams. "I thought you were so cute when I saw you." He quirks an eyebrow up at you. "In all your rugged dark ways. You're walking bad news with your," You take his hands, "rings, and leather, and smoking." You put his hands on your hips and his eyes flutter trying to meet your own, but he can only stare at where his hands meet your body. "Big sad brown eyes."

You're right. He was bad news. He was a snake, a liar, a user, and he wondered if he came clean now you would still let him touch you. He's selfish, he's too fucking selfish as you move closer, as your knee knocks with his moving your hips into him. He wants you so bad an ache has formed in the pit of his black soul and he can't stop himself from turning you around and pressing his body into yours.

Lights strobe above him, you slither a hand around his head, swaying your hips into him to some throbbing beat; his cock throbbing along with it. His hands trail down your thighs fingers toying with the hem of you dress desperately fighting his conscious to not crawl inside your skin. He buries his face in your hair smelling you jasmine petal shampoo, that vanilla perfume you wore and his body only craves yours more.

Your head falls back on him exposing your neck, and from here he can see the steady thump of your pulse beneath skin. He feels his slow descent like time wants to protect him from insanity, but his mouth lands on your neck taking you in with an open jaw. You don't pull away as he drags his mouth up your neck, as his tongue licks beneath your ear tasting the sheen of sweat against soft skin. You taste like the first sin, like every bad decision he ever wants to make.

His fingers dig into your hips and he hears the little laugh you let out as you shift slightly your nose pressing into his. "I need another drink." You mutter as roll even more, your top lip brushing against his own.

"No," He whispers against your breathless mouth. If you moved forward more you'd be connected, but you just stare up at him. You're so beautiful with your hair mused, the flush in your cheeks and small smile on your glossy lips. You make him bold. He tests the waters as his hands slide further down your back, fingers grazing the swell of your ass. "I really want to kiss you."

The room spins as it slips past his lips, and he waits for you to push him away, to cringe and leave him there pining. Your hand just goes to his chest, "I think you want more than that." Your voice is as smooth as the caramel hints he gets from your perfume, and he finds himself taking your chin gently in his hands. Then you slide upward until your fingers are linked behind his mane of messy hair pressing yourself into him until surely you feel his hard cock digging into you. You smile against his mouth, "Well go on then sad eyes."

He doesn't even remember pushing in, he doesn't even register you slightly pushing his head towards your own. His mouth is connected to yours, and that's all that takes up the space in his mind. Your lips against his own alter time, space, reality and he feels sucked into a black void of you. He'd never know another feeling, you had ruined him beyond repair by simply letting him kiss you. The club is gone, the music absent, his friends non-existent; it was just you.

It floods back in as your tongue glides into his mouth and he's starving for you. He's takes your face in his hands pushing back until he feels in control, until he's nearly got your head bent back to shove his tongue down your throat, to consume you in a way he's needed for months. You taste like vodka, like the hints of an energy drink you mixed with it, like his cigarette you stole. He knows he needs to breath, let you breath, but your hand are just as sharp in his skull he feels you don't want to pull away either. You grind your body against him feeling every hard press of him, letting his cock twitch against your hip. He's dizzy with it, dizzy from you.

He nips at your bottom lip, and he can feel the vibrations of the whine pulled from your chest and he wants to cum in his pants right here. Instead, he just kisses down your jaw, your neck sucking in your sugar tasting skin. He can feel your slacked jaw against his head as his teeth dig into your collarbones, fingers dancing along the hem of your dress. You let him slip under, let him graze fingers between your hot thighs, let him brush up against thin underwear.

"You should," You gasp out as his knuckle passes over your clit. "Probably tell your friends...you're leaving." He finally pulls away, staring down at your face, between the colors flashing above you the flush in your cheeks changes from purple to green.

"I should tell them I'm leaving."

You nodded, "Yeah."

He glances around, "Should you?"

"I'll text them later" Is all you say.

After a quick farewell, and a 10 minute cab drive, Eddie is letting you guide him up into your condo building barely able to keep his hands off some part of your body. For weeks he had wanting nothing more than this moment, so he holds on to finger tips, fabric or bare skin. The minute your door shuts behind him he's on you again; hands deep in your hair shrugging your jacket off of your shoulders. He's a selfish man, especially when it came to you, so he hoist you up wrapping your legs around his waist to grind himself into you.

He kisses down your neck as you whisper out, "Down the hall, to the right." Your bedroom, the one he always daydreams he's in. He doesn't even set you down, just takes off down the hall. You giggle against him, "Watch out for-!"

"Fuck!" He stumbled into the wall as your cat goes in between his legs.

"Arwen." You wave her away with a hand. "Shoo!" He likes the way you say your cats name as if he had never given it to you. She trots off as Eddie searches for a doorknob sloppily pushing the door open to your bedroom. He stands on the threshold of the room, you in his arms, staring at a yawning grave. He knew this was his end, that there was no way for him to leave this room unchanged. He thought it was a good way to go.

He falls into your cloud of comforters and pillows, the scent of everything you were engulfing him, vanilla and toffee and laundry detergent and shampoo. He can't help but groan into your skin licking up your throat until he's on your mouth again. He's clawing down your sides, hitching up your dress to dig his fingers underneath finding you wet between your legs. His chest swells with some strange pride knowing he had gotten you wet.

"You don't have to." You say into his mouth. He pulls back with furrowed brows, "We can just fuck."

"What?" He blinks at you, "Don't you want..."

You shrugged, "It's okay if you don-!"

He shoots up hiking your legs around his shoulders dipping his head between your legs. "Oh I want to." He pulls your underwear down and throws it across the room. "Who the fuck do you sleep with?"

"Impatient men." You chuckle slightly.

He up at you between your thighs, "Amateurs." Then he's dragging his tongue over your wet cunt. He's nearly passes out the second the taste of you hits his tongue, he almost forgets he needs to move and not just stay rooted to your throbbing pussy. He licks patterns into your clit hearing the slightest gasp part your lips. He digs himself in deeper, pressing against your clit harder as your nails root into his hair, thighs beginning to close in on himself.

Then slowly, he shifts, holding your thigh down with a shoulder and slipping two fingers inside of you. He curls them gently reaching that spot he watched you struggle to grasp letting your hips buck into his face a heady moan forced into the air. He moans right back into you moving his tongue faster letting every familiar sound alert him to your impending orgasm. He needs it, he needs it like water and he ravages you as so.

"I-I..." You stutter out as he thrust his hand in and out you while sucking on your clit. He knows, can feel you clenching around his hand and soon enough you sharply gasp, clamping down around him with ridged thighs. You gush around him and he's lapping you up like a fountain of stars even going as far to prod your clenching entrance with his tongue feeling every you had given him. "O-Okay." You breathe out pushing on his head. He can't stop, he can't stop licking inside of you, tasting you, running a sloppy tongue up until he's attacking your clit again, furiously rubbing circles into it with his tongue. He can't breathe, he can't think straight only on swallowing you down, "Oh God." You whine back arching into him, hips angling forward as he pushes three fingers into your wet heat. "I'm gunna..." You never finish as he forces you through the overstimulation, over the edge again and he can feel you soaking over his chin with a throaty groan. He wonders if he can make you cum 28 times just by staying down here all night. "Eddie..."

He nearly cums at the sigh of his name on your lips and he forces himself off of you. He stares down at you as he wipes off his chin, in the dark he can't see the ruddy red of your cheeks, he cant see your blissful eyes, "Was that okay?"

"Mhm," You mutter out, hands sliding under his shirt pulling him slightly downward to hover over you. "Hot and considerate." You poke his chest, "You were supposed to be bad news."

He trails his mouth over the top of your breast "Sorry to disappoint."

He shoves the straps of your dress down exposing one breast while he cups the other one. He licks around your nipples, teeth grazing until its taut in his mouth. He feels your hands go his belt, fumbling with his jeans try and push then down. "Need some help?"

You scoff, "Impatient women I suppose now too."

He grins against your skin pushing his pants and underwear down to free his hard cock. You wrap a hand around him letting him hiss out a breath as you try to line him up. He wants to savor it more, savor the soft skin of your hands wrapped around him, but he pushes inside of you before he can think. "Fuck." He closes his eyes letting his head fall against your forehead. He doesn't stop until he's full seated inside of you and he feels the urge to cum already. He stills, letting your cunt throb around him, letting him fill up every inch of her until finally your nails pierce his skin.

He pulls back slightly before slamming back into you, he does it again, and again, and again as little breaths echo into his ear of your sweet noises. He bites down in your jaw as legs wrap around him, as you tilt your hips to take him deeper. You're so fucking wet from two orgasm that he's slipping further and further into you with every brutal thrust. His hands crawl under your back pulling you tighter as his hips slap against yours. He needs to hold on to sanity, he's going to lose it inside of you if he can't think straight.

He forced himself up and back to slow his pace, but that's even worse. He glances down to where his cock disappears inside of you with a loud squelching noise that makes him dizzy. "Feel good?" He grits out, finger tips digging into the supple flesh of your hips, your ass.

"Un-uh," He wallows in the pathetic sound of your voice, as his cock is the reason you're falling apart in the palm of his hand.

He brings his fingers inward, pressing into your sensitive clit. "Tell me, use your words." His pace quickens, as does his movement on your clit.

Your scrapping down his chest, incoherent babbling coming out of your mouth. "Y-yes." It comes from the back of your throat, your body caving towards the pleasure.

"Yes what?" He needs you to say it again, to say it when you cum with him buried inside of you. "Say it baby, tell me who's making you feel good."

"You Eddie, you." Your neck arches back and he dives down for it, fucking you into your own bed letting it all flood his senses; your smell, your taste, your noises, it's overwhelming and far too soon he feels you clenching around him during your orgasm and he's gone.

He's messy and uncoordinated and in one gritted out moan he's spilling inside of you. He's buried in your hair, in you, feeling himself pull you closer as he continues to mindlessly thrust into you until he's spent. He can't pull out; he can't leave your warm throbbing cunt. He holds himself inside of you as long as he can even as your body grows slack beneath him, as your legs uncurl from around him. He registers the stroke of your hand down his sweaty hair, the press of your soft lips along his biceps, his forearms. He knows his time is up, that any longer would be weird so he begrudgingly pulls out of you with a heavy sigh sliding in bed next to you. "You okay?" He brushes hair out of your face wanting you to wrap your arms around him and lay yourself over him.

"Yeah," You sit up. "That was..."

"I'm so sorry-!"

You still him with a hand. "Good." You laugh as you climb off your bed letting your dress fall to the floor. "I haven't...it's been a minute since it was that good. Sex can feel like a job sometimes, a means to an end, but that was nice." He smiles to himself. "I'm gunna-I'll be right back." You leave your room the hallway light casting a glow upon your naked silhouette, eclipsing you from sight.

He lets himself take it all in, the feel of your bed, you room spinning around him in darkness, his mouth and cock covered in you. How was he ever going to move on? He throws his legs over the bed letting plush carpet meet his toes before he finds his way to some light-switch. He flips it up the warmth if it outlining everything he had always saw in purple. Your room feels so mundane with out the haze of LED lights and limited viewing capacity. He sees your laptop, tripods, and ring-lights scattered along your desk. He sees fantasy novels and empty wine glasses, the butt of a joint smashed into what should have been a coin dish. He goes to your record player, fingers tracing the the buttons along the side until they slide over your collection of records.

You're horribly unorganized, Eddie realizes, as he tries to find rhyme or reason to the odd stacks of music. He smiles to himself; in this space you're just a messy girl, not an otherworldly goddess he wanted to worship. His eyes follow along your dresser sniffing a white tea and sage candle, eyeing objects, decorations you seem to have on display. He stills, eyes going to a golden picture frame where a picture sat in there with a very young girl standing between a middle-aged man's legs, both smiling the same toothy grin at the camera.

It makes him sadder the longer he looks at them, the noses they shared. He tore his eyes away quickly trying to find something else when he sees the D&D book, colored pencils cascading around it.

He's glad that's what you found him looking at when you come back into the room carrying a bowl of cereal wearing a vintage Queen shirt. You study him for a minute, and he wonders if you had just wanted him to quietly leave. "You hungry?"

"What?" But you're already off padding into your home without a follow-up. He watches the door for a few minutes before turning back to your desk tugging you open the top drawer filled with old Hawkins stamps. He snaps it shut at the sound of footfalls when you return with another bowl and a cat on your heel. You hand him the full bowl and sit down on your bed watching him stand there. You cat jumps onto your desk to sniff the bowl, "Do you collect stamps?" He motions to the drawer.

You shrugged while you take a bite. "No, they're just cheaper at thrift stores." That's all you say, so he finally picks up the bowl. He waits until he swallows. "Do you want me to leave?"

You chew. "Do you?"

"No."

You chuckle to yourself, "Want to smoke?"

He smirks over the bowl of cereal at you. He watches you get up and slide the bowl carelessly onto some surface digging through your desk drawer for a metal ALTOIDs mint tin popping it open and handing him the joint, before tucking your stash away again.

"There's a candle lighter somewhere over there." You motion to the candle he had been sniffing earlier and he moves forward as you stand up trying to shoo your cat out of the room.

"You should get something better to store these in." He picks up the lighter and slowly begins to press it into the tip. Once it seems evenly lit enough, he takes a few gentle puffs before giving it a deep inhale.

You're beside him in an instance riffling through the records."Oh whatever." You glare playfully at him.

He hands the joint to you. "No seriously come by the store we probably have something you could just take, get them organized."

You watch him as you inhale, holding the smoke in your lungs before blowing it out into his face. "Are you just saying that to see me again?"

"Maybe." He grins watching you take another drag. The scent of weed and sex overtake any other sweet smell in your room and for some reason he's starting to prefer the realistic scent.

You tsk at him, "Bad boys don't linger, they scurry away before daylight."

He takes the joint from you, "Good girls don't bring home boys in the dark, and they don't smoke weed with them."

You smirk, "I'm not a good girl." He inhales the joint letting it sit in knuckle in front of you. You watch him with curious red eyes before he wanders off into your room as you continue to find the music you were looking for. He peers down at the book he had been looking at, "Do you know anything about that game?"

He waits for the sound of the record player roaring to life and slow spin of the turntable before responding, "A little. Do you play?"

"No." You say it sadly and he has no clue why. For some reason it makes him think of the only photo you had in your room.

"What is all this?" He asked motioning to all your electronics. Purple Rain begins to play behind him, and he shakes his head to himself flipping the pages of the player handbook, glad it's at least an older song.

You chuckle, the sound closing in on him, "If I tell you I'll have to kill you." You finally take the joint back and brush past him to lay back down on your bed puffing smoking out into your ceiling. He's reading words when your voice calls out, "Can you open the window?"

He leaves the open book and goes to unlock the window pushing it up to let smoke flee the room with a cool breeze. He feels the dense air of rain coming, and despite Prince playing in the distance he knows it will be clear. He plucks the joint from your fingers as wind gushes in, pages flipping on their own accord until landing on a dogeared one with a drawing stuck in the seams.

It's what seemed to be a woman with blue skin, purple eyes, pointed ears, long silver-white hair, and large fairy wings with a pastel yellow glowing orb outlining her standing next to man with dark long, messy hair and a guitar slung across his shoulders. Eddie's eyes narrow in on it, as it resembled him. He puts out the joint. "What's this?" He asks taking it from the book and jumping next to you on the bed.

You slowly turn your head towards it. "Oh you little snooper." You go to grab it but he puts it just out of reach. "I knew I should have kicked you out."

"Did you draw this?" He stares at in awed surprise.

"Yes." You grumbled too high to care as much as you were trying too.

He squints at it putting the pieces together; it's characters. You had drew D&D characters. "This is really good." He finally looks at you, you're glaring at him. "No seriously I had no idea you could draw so good."

You roll your eyes, but then you smile. "How would you?" You're right, to you, he only just met you.

He hands you back the picture letting it settle in your hands. "Who are they?"

Your finger traces the blue fairy woman, "She's star-born fay. She was kept safe in the night sky in that ball of light, but her father was struck down, her mother wallowed with the loss and went dark becoming a black hole, destroying everything around her. It tried to come for her too, the darkness, it cast her out of the sky in a fury until she crash-lands into rubble." He props himself on his elbow to stare down at you instead of your fingers moving to the man, "He's a bard studying at the college of puppetry.'

Him. You had drawn him, but not this version of him. "Is this for a D&D game?" He has to ask, to know.

You shake your head resting the drawing on your chest as you look at him. "No. It was for that guy's birthday; he plays. He supposedly plays guitar too but never heard him truthfully." You toy with pieces of his hair, "Now I can't seem to part with it."

"I play guitar."

You snort, "I would hope so. Look at you, you're a walking 80s metal band." You flip up the picture again, "I mean, look," You point at the picture of him, but not him, "after I ran into you, I used you as a fucking reference because you looked the part."

He smiles down at you, "You're a fucking nerd."

"I am not." Your anger doesn't reach your eyes and soon enough you're thrown in soft laughter.

He drags his thumb over your bottom lip, "Your secret is safe with me." You close your eyes listening to music still playing in the beyond humming softly to the tune.

"Play for me sometime." You say as he softly puts his head down beside you, watching you breathe, being with you in a way he never could have imagined. He should tell you, tell you now and earn forgiveness before it's too late. But how was he to know what came after this moment, for all he knew you'd kick him out once the sun rose and never see him again. He'd hate himself then, he decides, he'll hate himself in the morning when he's still in last night's clothes trying to find a way home in the rain.

"Anytime." He whispers and he hopes its true. You roll to your side, arm crooked underneath your head to look at him. He becomes a mirror of you, "So, how do you know Lord of The Rings?"

"My dad."

The picture frame flashes in his mind again. "Where-!"

"He's dead." He can't respond, a rock sitting in his throat at the harsh sentence. Your breathing is so slow he's surprised it could have even come out of your mouth, and your tone is so flat. "You're very different from most guys." You change the subject too rapidly he can't even comprehend the statement.

"Huh?"

"I usually catch them slipping on their shoes by the door," The corner of your mouth ticks up, "Not digging through my things. Not asking questions."

He finds himself smiling too, "You probably should meet better guys."

You hum some response, "You probably shouldn't go through people's things. What if I was hiding a body."

"You're so weird." He finds himself moving close until all he could see was your heavy eyes. "Don't change."

You blink slowly at him, like a cat, sizing him up in a hazy way. "Now, don't go falling in love sad eyes." Is all you say before your lids settle on closed. He watches you fall asleep feeling his chest thick with emotions he shouldn't have.

The song's guitar solo ended and a soft drizzle comes from outside your window. He doesn't want to but he shifts moving away from you; you're sleeping. He had assumed so, and so he moves you up the bed, tucking you beneath your own blankets and going to shut the window. He turns off the record player, removes the vinyl, and slips it neatly where it belonged.

Eddie was a fool. How careless of him to fall for a person that doesn't exist, a version of you that isn't even real. Your drawing had floated onto the floor when he moved you, so he picks it up gazing down at it.

She was a ball of light, until...

"My Evenstar." He set it down safely on your desk, turns off your lights and pads back to your bed curling up next to you under the covers. He pulls you close tucking his head into the nape of your neck realizing it is tomorrow already, so he hates himself within your arms.

When Eddie wakes there's a cat sitting on his chest peering down at him. She blinks slow at him, lets out a soft meow and kneads her nails into his chest. "Well, hi," He scratches behind her ear letting the purring vibrate against his chest. She was a nice cat. He glances around letting the events of last night trickle into his memory happy to still be lying in your bed and not gasping in his own after waking up from the best dream. He stretches under your blankets, your cat annoyed at the movement, hops off of him, and he uses it to peel himself from your sheets.

You're gone. He would be panicked if this wasn't your home, so he climbs to his feet to find you. He hears singing from somewhere, following the noise, "Gloria, don't you think you're fallin'?" Then your voice is overlapping the music, "If everybody wants you, why isn't anybody callin'?" He smiles to himself as he finds you in the kitchen singing to music playing through the speaker of a small radio on your counter. He feels transported to another time as he spots you wearing a vintage blue sweater with pink stripes and a relaxing fit pair of jeans that flared out slightly around the ankles. Your hair hangs stylishly messy around your bare skinned face. "Mornin,'" you say to him hitting the stop button before looking up at him. "Didn't expect you to still be here, definitely didn't expect you to sleep till noon."

"It's noon." He runs his hands over his face as he sits down on one of the chairs at your island.

You giggle, "Yes, but we were up late."

"How are you awake?" You rummage around your kitchen for something.

"I can't sleep well when I drink redbull with my vodka; its why I smoked." You yank down a loaf of bread. "Probs woulda talked your ear off all last night if I didn't." He wished you would. He wanted to peel you back layer by layer, dissect everything, and realize all his assumptions were wrong. "Want a sandwich?"

You hesitate with your fingers on four slices instead of two. "I should go." It's so manipulative the way he says it, with a sort of questioning sound at the end. He wants you to say no.

"It's up to you." You remove two slices of bread and go back to making your own sandwich. You have a slight frown on, and he hates that more than himself.

Gets lonely over here, be nice to have someone to take care of.

He remembers it was one of the first things he'd heard you say when he found your page; you were lonely. "Is it still raining?" You nodded but didn't look up at him as you sliced a tomato. "Okay sure." You peek up at him, "I'll head out once it slows down." That was a good compromise for himself, he'd stay forever if you let him, but he needs to at least pretend to be normal.

You shrug, "Sounds good." You removed an additional two slices of bread for him.

"This is nice," He motions around your kitchen.

"Thanks." You slide the sandwich you had finished making yourself to him before beginning again on yours. "I bought it a few years back."

He's mid bite when he nearly chokes. "Bought it?" How the fuck did you have enough money at 26 to buy a whole place to yourself. There was no way you made that much money off the website, and if you did then he was in the wrong career.

You chuckle, "My dad left me money when he died." You say pressing the top slice down to make it stay in. "I also have a job."

"What do you do?" He avoids your face as he asks it.

"Freelance." Is your answer and he suddenly doesn't feel bad about watching your content, because you were lying about it too. He doesn't know why you feel the need to lie; you shouldn't be embarrassed by it. He had seen you naked, officially, and you didn't owe him anything.

He wants the change the subject, but the only thing he can think of is your dead dad. "How'd he..."

You take your plate and round the island to sit next to him. "Cancer." He nods along not sure if he should ask more questions or change the subject again. "Do you have parents?"

"Everyone has parents." You snort at that. "My mom died when I was young, my dad is in jail." He pushes his food around realizing it's easy to share this stuff with you because in a way, you understood the cruelness of life. "I lived with my uncle after that, but he moved away, left me his trailer." He leans back in the chair to take you in as you listened intensely to his sob story.

"Were you close with your mom?"

He nods, "I was only 6 when she died, but I remember sitting by her old record player and listening to blues music, it was her favorite."

You try to smile for him. "No wonder you have such sad brown eyes."

He scoffs at you, at your dark sense of humor, and finds solace in it. He hated when people felt sorry for him, and no doubt you did as well. "Were you and your dad close?"

"He was my best friend." Your soft spoken sentence hits him like a gut punch, hurting his own feelings for a question he asked. He takes inventory of your kitchen again, at the thrifted plates you use, the vintage appliances on your counters, the clothes you wore, the music you listened to. Your life unspools around him; the generation that reminded you of him. Your life was some large memento to a man you should have never had to lose.

Despite the aching grief he felt for you, he asks, "How long ago?"

You look over at him a gentle smile on your mouth, and he doesn't understand how you could be so...fine. "Five years." You give him a shove, "Stop looking at me like that with your big brown sad eyes." Your cat suddenly jumps on the counter sniffing at your food. "Hey, I said no counters." There's no sternness in your voice and you sigh tearing apart a piece of meat for her toss it to the ground to get her off politely. "I think she thinks she owns the place."

"She does."

"Well then she should chip in on some of the bills." He laughs along with you as you slide your elbow onto your island countertop, head resting against your fist. "So, you work at the record store."

He nods, "Yeah I like music." You roll your eyes in an obvious manner. "I struggled in school, knew college wouldn't be a smart move for me, so I work at a record store." Once again, he copies your movements to level your stare. "It pays the bills and I'm able to make music on the side." You raise an eyebrow, "I uh-am in a band."

"A band?"

"Corroded Coffin." He pinches the bridge of his nose. He wished he was cooler.

When he peeks open an eye you're beaming at him. "That's so metal." You say obnoxiously, but it doesn't feel like you're poking fun at him. "Do you play birthday parties?"

"No, shut up." He scoffs at you as he gives you a playful shove. "We usually play at dive bars, someone's garage."

"Oh yeah?" You slide off the island chair and push yourself onto his lap straddling his hips. "Can I be a groupie?"

He looses a breath out of his nose hands grabbing onto your hips. "Maybe, it's a selective crew."

You pout and his dick is already growing hard. "Please, I'll be such a good fan."

"You're a little devil." You descend on his neck, kissing along his throat until his dick twitches against your center letting you respond with a roll of your hips. You move up until your lips meet his own and his hand roots into the base of your hair pressing you hard into his body, his tongue diving into your mouth. "You want it again right here." You nod as he squeezes your breast over clothing. "Needy girl."

You smirk into his mouth, "Should have left with the rain then."

He grabs your ass with his other hand and bites down on your bottom lip and tugging, "Take your pants off." You move off him and yank them down your legs with your underwear, then in a swift movement he hoists you onto your island and presses a hand to your chest to lay you flat. He slips his fingers inside of you before you can take a breath curling against the spongey spot that has you moaning against teeth. He shifts, leaning down until his mouth is on your clit licking around it instead of the throbbing bundle of nerves.

"Fuck, please." You whine arching your back, pushing yourself into his mouth more as his hand fucks you. "Don't tease me, Eddie." He has you in the palm of his hand and for once he's relieved the roles had flipped if only for this moment. So, he attaches his mouth to your clit, tongue furiously working it until your breathing is rasping. Until you're falling apart beneath his touch. Wetness seeps out of you, and your cunt pulsates with a brewing orgasm he desperately needs from you.

"Come on baby," He mutters into you and you groan out clenching around his hand. He glances up at you, chest cracked open, starlight spilling out as you cum against his mouth. He's off of you as you grow limbless against the counter and he's slipping his cock inside of you. "Fuck you feel so good." It's hot and heavy, and he's open mouth breathing against your skin as he thrust in and out of you, arms hooked under your own to fuck you hard, fuck you deep.

You humf out a response wrapping your legs around his wait to allow him all the leverage he needs to abuse your cervix. Your claws dig into his back and he hopes they scar, he hopes he'll always have them as a reminder of how good he could make you feel.

His hand squeezes between bodies, "One more." You shake your head against him, whining.

"I can't."

"You can," He sucks on your skin harshly. "Give me one more." You pull back slightly to allow him access to your clit. He draws circles into your clit, letting your head fall back before he's using his own to keep his forehead pressed to your own. "No, look at me, look at me when you cum on my cock."

You nod, a whimpering mess under him. He wonders if, for once, it's nice to not be in control of your own pleasure, to let someone else give you this primal need. To cum because you can, not because someone else pays you to. He does the work for you, letting your mind empty beside the blissful feelings. Your mouth opens in a quiet breath and your forehead creases staring up at him with complete surrender. You cum just like that, with his name a silent word on your lips, and his cock buried inside of you. You clamp down too hard and he's spilling deep within you, painting your walls with hot ropes of cum. Your chest heaves with his own as he gently kisses your mouth, you softly laugh. "What did the universe do to deserve you."

He returns the smile, teeth knocking into your own as he pulls out of you with a hiss. He helps you sit up cupping your face in his hands, "Had you."

You blush then shove him away. "You're so annoying." Your wobble off to the bathroom and he bends down to scoop your underwear up to tuck away into his pockets as a token for himself. He cleans up for you, never having the urge to even clean up after himself, but he remembers your mason jar and decided you deserve to be taken care of too. He wanders over to your television chuckling to himself at your VHS player and tapes. You really didn't belong in this time. "Ahh found my stash." You say plopping down onto your couch with an oversized TOTO shirt and new underwear content to be informal.

"You'd be a horrible serial killer." He goes through your messy collection.

"You'd be a horrible detective." You smirk at him. "I heard your giant feet from down the hall snooping again."

He glares over his shoulder at you, "I was cleaning for you."

You cringe, "Yeah I'm not very good at that." You nod your head to the tall pile of tapes to the left of your TV. "It's like in the middle if you want to pop it in." His eyes find what you're talking about immediately, and he's sliding in the first instalment of Lord of The Rings.

"Have you ever read the books?" He asked as he nestled down onto your couch next to you.

"Not yet. I keep meaning to buy it, but I'm always reading something else." He feels you curl into his side, and he slips his arm around you to pull you closer. He forgets that this is far too intimate for a one-night stand, and he's supposed to be forcing himself to leave to wallow in self-hatred at home.

He glances down sideways at you thinking of your stack of books in your room, "You must really like fantasy?"

You shrug meeting his warm gaze, "Only if the love interest has long luscious dark hair." Knowing that in any lifetime, he'd hand his soul over to you, lost in the depths of your eyes, he kisses the side of your head. You don't make him leave either though, so you both dip into conformable silence as the movie begins.

He doesn't remember falling asleep, but when his eyes open it's dark out; your arm is thrown across his chest with a leg hitched up around his hips as the title screen replays and replays. He needs to leave; he needs to go before you've wrecked him beyond repair. He stares up at your ceiling thinking how poor his luck actually was that you lived in the same town, went to his work, went out to the club he only could guess you were at. It was a stroke of cruel fate, not his lady fortune. He lays within your hold for a few more seconds, picturing a life he could have with you if he wasn't such a selfish liar.

Then he begins to peel your limbs off of him to crawl off of your couch. He lingers too long looking at you that your eyes flutter open and you smile up at him. You stretch; body elongated in a feline way. "Leaving?" He doesn't know what to say, he wants you to beg him to stay. You chuckle as you sit up. You slowly rise to your feet, padding up to him running a hand down his chest, over his cock. "I think I have a favor to return." He's hard, instantly and all you can do is laugh smugly at him. "See."

"Is this what you do to all the guys?" He lets you spin him around and shove him back on the couch, "Keep 'em trapped for your twisted pleasure."

You go to your knees between his legs fingers deftly working his jean's button and zipper. "Only the favorites."

It's the same sentence, but a different voice, a normal sincere voice. He wants to mull it over, but your mouth wraps around his cock. "Fucking jeez," He hisses out as you swallow him down, as your hand goes to the shaft to make up what your mouth can't take. You bob up and down on him, hand swirling around him as spit pools out of your mouth down him. He always imagined how'd you suck his cock, but he never could have believed it would be this good. The gentle ridges of your mouth, the soft strokes of your tongue, the sensation of your hand around his wet dick.

You pull back, tongue lolling against the tip of him until you take him all the way down again. He hears the soft choke of it as he hits the back of your throat. You moan along him, and he's bucking his hips right back up into your mouth. Your grip tightens; your mouth moves deliberately yanking him closer to an orgasm he so badly wanted inside of you.

"Let me-ah...let me..." He groans out as your cheeks hallow, sucking him in tight and his vision goes splotchy. Your nails drag up and down his tight thighs and all he knows is he's gunna cum, he's gunna-!

You pop off of him. "That was a close one." You smirk running a stripe up the shaft of his cock still slowly moving your hand. He's still shaking, his orgasm sitting right there, and you stopped, you fucking stopped while he was right on the edge. You pull him back into your mouth, taking him so deep your nose brushes his skin, then pull back up, only to do it again. Your tongue swirls around his head, and he's reeling again, already ready to cum again down your throat. He holds your head, forcing you up and down at his own accord. You add your hand again and he's about to explode, but you still. You still with his angry, throbbing cock in your mouth stopping his orgasm in its tracks.

"I'm gunna die." He grits out as air comes in difficulty. You slowly come off of him with a small laugh. He can't see straight, "Pl-Please let me fuck you..."

You pout against his cock, "Fine."

You push off the floor, climb over him, and sink down onto his cock. "Oh fuck," He groans into your neck as you roll your hips against his cock. "I'm not gunna..." He's not going to last, you'd edged him too far and he's nearly bursting at the wet, tight feel of you wrapped around him.

"That's okay." You whisper into his ear moving up and down along his cock.

His hand shoots to your neck and he growls out at you, "No it's not." His other hand goes to your clit. "You get to enjoy things too." You hold on your throat softens as he begins to move his fingers feeling your own hips stutter uncoordinated at the sensation. You rock your hips using his dick to hit that sweet spot inside of you. "That's it, come on baby girl, cum for me."

"Okay," You whine. He moves his hand off of your neck to knead into your breast, leaning forward to wrap his lips around one and pinching at the other one until they're both peeked for him. You're so sloppy with it, fucking him without a care while he is pushing you towards your own climax mindless words slipping past wet lips. And unlike you, he lets you cum. He watches your face screw up in concentration, watches your hips still and your body curl in on itself. He flips you onto you back while you're distracted, with your cunt clenching around him. He bends your legs up against his chest fucking you so deep all the noise you can make are the gasp every time he slams into you.

You stare up at him with awed eyes as his hair washes over your face with every thrust, as the pick he wore around his neck slaps against your chin. You wrap your hands around his neck to yank his mouth down to yours, then you're kissing him. He cums ldeep inside of you, your tongue licking up into the roof of his mouth. It is ravaging, it's intense and he knows he's digging too hard into your hip, but he's still moving in and out of you until the shiver rakes down his spine.

He pulls back to smile down at you, "And you said you weren't a good girl. I think you listen quite nicely, with the right tone." You bring your hand up to your mouth, chewing on the side of your thumb nail. He slowly pulls it from your mouth and kisses your lips once more.

Yeah, he's so fucked. He forgets to care.

You sigh so beautifully as his cock slides out of you and then you throw a dramatic arm over your eyes. "I think you've ruined me for other men." He raises an eyebrow at you. "I fear the sex is too good."

Then be with me, don't find anyone else. The words sit in his chest, and he watches you get up and walk away from him, his cum sliding down your leg. How was this to end? He would have to leave eventually, and you'd have to go back to your...job. At the reminder of that his phone seems to ding with the notification that you posted. He glances up, make sure you're not around, and opens it up.

"no stream tonight friends im not feeling well :("

He smiles down at the message; you were canceling for him. Okay maybe you were just too tired from being fucked all night and day, but still it was because he was here. He hides his phone away as you return, "The rain is gone." Your hair is up in some loose hair clip as you go to your kitchen filling up a glass of water. You smirk over the cup, "If you have to get going."

It's a night full of fucking, of laughing, of sleeping far too late on Monday morning he doesn't even hear his alarm until his phone rings for the fourth time. No, it wasn't an alarm, it was Robin calling him an hour into his shift. "Fuck!" He shoots out of your bed, then realizes he didn't have a car with him. "Fuck."

"Do you need a ride?" You ask groggily, and he refuses to let you be disturbed by his buffoonery.

He calls one of his friends. "No, no it's fine." You lay back down on the pillow with sleepy eyes. The light cuts through your curtains, glowing against your heavenly body, and he is convinced you are a celestial being as it shines and reflects off of you. He forgets Jeff is calling his name through the phone, "Oh uh yeah can you pick me up?" Jeff agrees and for a moment while the dial tone blares at him he wonders if he's trapped in some alternate reality, because this had all been too good to be true.

"Bye Eddie." You mutter as he pockets the phone to go wait outside for his ride.

"Can I see you again?"

"Maybe." You smile, "I know where to find you." You won't offer your number, so he knows you won't give it even as he asked. He watches you slip away in front of him because how was he ever going to be able to see you again unless he knocks on your door.

He sits down on the edge of your bed letting the traces of you linger within him. "Want me to throw rocks at your window until you let me sneak inside?"

You chuckle, "Cute." Then you roll so he can see more of you and you run the back of your nails up his arm. "Come here." He does. He leans down and presses his lips to yours feeling every piece of him die from your poisoned mouth. He'd always be yours and you've destroyed his life by letting him have a single taste. "Take it." You nod your head to your desk, "Looks more like you anyways." Your drawing.

He stands to his feet walking over to your desk to pick it up, staring down at it, at a secret only he knew. His heart hurts knowing this was it for you and him unless his dear lady fortune ever intervened again, which he highly doubted. Would it even matter it everything he was to you was built on lies. He traces the blue fairy woman who would always be you in his head, his little fallen star, his Evenstar.

He shakes his head looking over his shoulder at you. "I think I'm falling in love with you."

"No, you're not." Then you turn your back to him.

That was it. He is too dazed as he makes his way to your front door, as he stumbles into his shoes, as he makes his way outside and opens the car door to sit down in the passenger seat until Jeff punches his arm. "Hey so...What the fuck."

notes: i live vicariously thru r bc i cannot draw :) also this fic lowkey took 10 years off my life bc it was the first time i had a trouble with using the old fanfic 'convenience'

PART TWO HERE

cowboylikemunson

holy fucking shit this was so good

#cowboylikemunson recs

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