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msgexymunson · 1 year

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Rumour Part Three: Roles

Description: as you and Eddie establish your relationship, it seems like no one can get in the way of it. Or can they?

Warnings: NSFW minors DNI or I'll poke you with a sharp stick, a trifecta of angst, fluff and smut, male oral receiving, fingering, slight switch dom!older!pierced!eddie x slight switch sub!fem!reader, unprotected sex, slight pain kink

A/N: I'm so glad you lot are enjoying this as much as I enjoy writing it, makes me very happy to see all your comments and reblogs, thank you!! Also I apologise to anyone called Estelle or Matt ;)

❤ If you enjoy this, please reblog the hell out of it, pretty pretty please! ❤

5.6k words

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

Lying in bed with Eddie was everything. It was two in the afternoon, and neither of you wanted to get up just yet. A warm glowing bubble had settled over the both of you and you were loath to break it. Eddie's wearing a pair of black trunks, you're in an oversized t shirt and no pants, since Eddie had pulled them down three times last night and it seemed an exercise in futility to put them on again.

Your legs were tangled together comfortably, like a pair of puzzle pieces finding their perfect match. Stroking your hand over his chest, you were tracing the lines of his tattoos.

"How many do you have? Tattoos I mean," you clarify, circling a devils head and horns just by his mass of chest hair.

"Pass. I've no idea sweet thing. Dozens. A hundred? I dunno." His hand travels to yours, helping you trace around a scorpion on his abdomen, muscles flexing underneath your touch.

"Well, which ones the oldest?"

He shifts to show you his arm. "See these bats?"

You nod, fingers whispering over his skin to rub at the flock of faded bats on his forearm.

"Got them when I was 17. No real reason, just thought they looked metal." He snorted a little laugh at his past self.

You smile at the glimpse of the past he's allowed you to see. Gazing up at him, you ask "what's your favourite one?"

He grins and winks at you. "Oh that's easy. Shift over a little?"

You move backwards a bit whilst he switches positions to lay on his side away from you, displaying his completely tattooed back.

It's the only tattoo he has in colour. A full back piece of a monstrous dragon with five heads, wreathed in flame. The art is incredible, so intricate and beautiful. You run your hands over it, marvelling at the details.

"Its pretty awesome Eddie."

He rolls back over to face you, fingers fluttering over your figure.

"I love it. Its Tiamat, the five headed dragon Goddess, from Dungeons and Dragons."

You laugh, shaking your head. "You nerd."

He chuckles back. "Yup, 'fraid so."

Nuzzling his face into your side, you hear his muffled voice "what time is it?"

Nearly 2:15."

"Urgh, I need to be in the shop at 3:45." He sighs into your shirt, then sits up.

"I'm gonna take a shower." After pecking you on the cheek, he swings his muscular legs off the bed and makes his way to the bathroom.

You sigh in contentment at the empty room, then pad your way out to the kitchen area to make some coffee for the pair of you. Once the pot is done you pour one for yourself.

Busying yourself in the kitchen, seeing if there were enough ingredients to make pancakes, you hear Eddie's voice from the doorway.

"Oh you made coffee, thanks sweets."

"No problem baby- oh."

Well fuck me.

There he stood, completely naked, roughly rubbing a towel through his wet mane of hair. Body glistening, steam rolling off his skin, tattoos darker and gleaming wet. His muscles shone in the light, taunt frame perfectly on display. Damp chest hair dripped deliciously down to his happy trail. Your eyes were inevitably drawn to his impressive length hanging between his legs, slightly pink and heavy looking, piercing glinting, inviting you over.

Glistening in front of you, so effortlessly, he looked like some sort of heathen God. You'd happily get down on your knees and worship him forever.

"What you staring at? Something you like sweet thing?" Eddie tips his head at you, smug smile creeping across his face.

Your mouth is hanging open. Snapping it shut, cheeks glowing, you walk over to him.

"We had sex like, three times last night and you still blush at me naked? You're too cute." He chuckles at you.

He stops laughing when you reach him and drop to your knees, hands trailing up his thighs.

"Woah, pretty girl, what are you doing?"

You take his member into your hands, running your palms over his length, feeling it harden quickly from your soft touches.

"I wanna, I wanna give you head."

He smiles softly at you. "Sweets you don't need to do that."

You keep running your hands over him, one dipping to cup his balls, rolling them gently in your hand. He lets out a shaky breath.

"You always take care of me, you never let me." You frown. "But I want to. Please Eddie?"

He moans, eyes rolling back. "Always so fuckin' polite. Shit."

Running your tongue up the length of his fully hard cock, you cover it with open mouthed kisses, licking and gently sucking at his shaft. Eddie hisses; you hear the towel he was holding flump to the floor, large hand coming to rest on the back of your head, engulfing your hair.

Taking his tip into your mouth, you trace around each cold steel ball with your tongue, swirling around either end of the piercing, swallowing pre cum. Eddie groans loudly, thumb rubbing the back of your head with encouragement.

Rubbing your tongue back and forth over his slit, you use your hands to work his shaft, dribbling spit to help glide across him. His slippery hard length is pulsing in your hands.

"Holy shit, pretty girl, that's- fuck, that's really good."

You moan around him, humming at the praise, doubling your efforts. You need him to come. He makes you feel so good all the time and you need him to know.

Trying your hardest to please him, you take him into your throat as much as you can. Granted, it's only just over halfway down his dick, but from the noises he's making it's enough. You feel the strange bump of steel at the back of your throat. Using your hands for the rest, you stroke him firmly. Each movement conveying just how much he means, how much you want to worship him.

"Oh sweet thing, God that's- oh fuck, hmm." Eddie's lost the power of speech which you take as the highest compliment. He's listening to your prayers.

Releasing him from your mouth, you stroke him with your hand and gently take one of his balls in your mouth, suckling gently, running your tongue all over it. Eddie was clearly not expecting it; you feel his legs shudder and a high pitched whine expel from his mouth. You smirk, taking the other in your mouth for the same treatment whilst firmly stroking his dick, endeavouring to show him your devotion.

"Oh fuck I'm gonna- shit, please- let me cum in your mouth" he's breathless and twitching, flushed red, practically quivering at your reverence.

You take his cock back into his mouth and hollow your cheeks, bobbing up and down his length quickly, squeezing his balls in your hand.

"Oh fuck, I'm, fuck-" as he shoots his load into your mouth. You swallow and swallow around his length, not stopping until he's whimpering, empty, his fill of your worship well and truly taken.

Halting your movements you behold him through damp lashes.

"Was that ok?"

"Fuckin' hell sweet thing, it was a little bit more than ok. Jesus H. Christ, I've got to go to work. Fuck, how am I this lucky?"

You blush and stand up, placing a kiss to his full lips.

"You want your coffee now?"

"Yeah, and a cigarette, before I do anything else." He crumples onto the couch, grabbing the towel to hide his modesty.

You get his coffee, add sugar and creamer, and bring him his cigarettes. Beaming at you, he takes you into his lap.

"What's this all about? Being all sweet to me."

You hide your head in his chest, suddenly shy. No matter how much confidence you portray in the world, the minute you get a look from Eddie it dissolves.

"I dunno, I just, I wanna take care of you Eddie."

He flashes an soft grin and holds you close, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead. "You already have sweet thing."

********************

Later that evening you're wiping down tables at the bar and collecting stray glasses.

"Hey, you may as well go, I'll finish up tonight, it's dead anyway." Your manager shouts over to you.

"Thanks!" You deposit the glasses in the dishwasher, hanging up your apron.

You check the time, 11pm. I wonder if he's still at the shop?

Eddie works late sometimes, he never wants to get up before noon so his client base tended to be night owls like him. Deciding to take the risk, you throw on your jacket and march into the chilly night air, walking the couple of blocks over to the tattoo shop.

Turning the corner, you see the shutters are down but the light is still on upstairs. You give it a minute, stopping to smoke a cigarette that Eddie had pre rolled for you. As you smoke, you hear voices, and a woman's laugh, clear as a bell.

Your stomach drops out from under you. Feeling your heart skipping a sick thud, then rushing blood, faster; faster than should be possible whilst standing still.

Ok calm the fuck down.

You take a breath, trying to calm the anticipated anger that's buzzing in your system and clouding your brain. It's stupid, you know, entirely unwarranted. It doesn't stop your mind leaping to the worst possible outcome.

Suddenly the door swings open and some Hollywoodian goddess swans out the door, all blonde mane, bust and teeth. Eddie walks out with her, giving her an embrace.

"Thanks Eds, you're the best!" She keens; shooting you what can only be described as a Look, then sways off on her too high heels.

"See you sweetheart!" He waves. The nickname forces an angry blush to the tips of your ears. Eddie turns to go back inside, then sees you and looks surprised.

"Hey pretty girl! What you doing here?" His grin is sugary and warm at your unexpected presence, settling the angry rolling feeling in your stomach. The rage is still there; no longer an explosive boil, but a simmer.

"Came to check, see if you were still working. I got off early."

"Come in then sweets, I gotta tidy up before I leave." He takes large strides back inside and you struggle to keep up with him.

Making his way back to his workstation, he's throwing away leftover bottles and paper towels covered in ink splotches, whilst you try and act as normal as possible.

"So, who was that?" Voice quivering ever so slightly as you take your coat off.

"Oh that's Estelle, finished her lower back piece today." He says, not even looking up, removing his gloves.

Ah, tramp stamp, I knew it.

"There's a band playing tomorrow night, at a bar not far from here, she said. Not too heavy, you should like it. What do you think sweet thing?" He looks up at you, eyebrows raised.

"Huh? Oh sure, whatever. Sure she's got great taste," Shrugging at him, you look around the walls of the shop at the various artworks hanging up.

"Woah, you being a bit judgy pretty girl?" He smirks.

"Why? She a librarian or something?" You bite back, eyes narrowing.

He laughs, "no she's a stripper."

"Oh course she fucking is," you mumble, cheeks burning.

He perches on the leather chair, arms out. "Hey, c'mere."

You huff, but move closer, allowing yourself to be hugged, arms pinned at your sides.

"What's up, sweetheart?" He brushes your cheek and you flinch, jaw clenching. Concern fills his eyes, brows heavy with confusion.

"Don't call me that. You just called her that."

You see realisation dawn on that stupidly handsome face of his, and his gaze grows softer.

"Oh, pretty girl, are you jealous?"

You look down at your own hands sandwiched between the two of you, unable to meet his eye. A firm grip holds your chin, pulling you to face him, smooth smile with a hint of smirk pervading his features.

"Listen, you have nothing to worry about. That woman's got more silicone in her than a Barbie doll. Not my thing." You giggle slightly, a small smile threatening to push your mouth corners upwards. "I call everyone sweetheart, it's nothing."

You pull away from him, eyes narrowing. "Yeah? Why call me sweetheart then?"

He holds his hand to his chest, miming being hit. "Ooft, you got me there. Force of habit."

He grabs your hand, kissing your knuckles.

"I don't call her sweet thing." He pulls you closer, "or pretty girl." His hands begin stroking up and down your sides. "Those are reserved for you." Slow, soft kisses are planted on your neck. "I don't call her my good girl. I don't call her my girlfriend."

Girlfriend.

He's not asked. And why would he, what are you, twelve?

"I'm your girlfriend?" You look at him with wide eyes and a wobbling lip.

"Well I fuckin' hope so, I've said you are to everyone I've seen today. I think Estelle was pissed at me for not shutting up about you to be honest."

You can't help but giggle triumphantly at that. Staring at him, you look at his neck, the side untouched by tattoos. Mischievous look adorning your features, you bend and kiss into his neck. Softly, at first, so he melts into your touch, then you grip him, and suck.

"Pretty girl, oh fuck, what are you doing?"

You release his neck with a wet suck, looking pleased with the purplish mark that's beginning to blossom.

"Marking my territory."

He puffs out a laugh "oh my little jealous girl," and strokes your head.

Somehow that's makes you madder. You're not a jealous girl. You're a woman.

You shove him a little. "Lie back."

He smirks at you, but he listens, lying fully in the reclined tattoo chair, eyes trying to work out your next move.

Clambering on top of him, you tug at the hem of his t shirt. He pulls it over his head, exposing his torso. You run your fingers down, finding spots to suck bruises into, taking small mouthfuls of whatever exposed, ink free skin you can find.

"What you doing sweet thing?" He chuckles.

"I'm trying to find blank bits to hickey!"

He laughs out loud at your frustrations. Until you sink your teeth into his soft flesh.

"Oh pretty- oh fuck!" He practically yelps, hips thrusting upwards.

You gaze down at him, taking in his flushed cheeks, round eyes and heaving chest.

Oh.

"Wait, does that turn you on?" You raise your eyebrow at him, fingertips ghosting his sides.

"Is it that much of a stretch to think I've got a thing for pain?" He says it confidently, gesturing to his inky body whilst cockily smirking; yet this appears masked, false. Looking in his eyes you can tell how much you've affected him

Not saying anything, you merely pinch one of his nipples and twist it lightly. Eddie's mouth falls open, pretty little moan escaping those full lips, eyebrows knitted.

Grinning deviously, you bend over him and take the other nipple into your mouth, rolling your tongue around it, before nipping at it and pulling with your teeth.

"Jesus H. Christ! Fuck."

You look up at him. Eddie's flushing the prettiest pink colour, mouth practically drooling, eyelids heavy with lust. You've never seen him like this before, losing control. Wait, that's not it. He's relinquishing control, giving himself to you.

You stand up and he huffs at the loss of contact, until you begin stripping off your clothes. He hurriedly pulls his jeans and boxers down, not even bothering to take them off, just bunching them at his ankles. His dick looks painfully hard, almost dribbling, angry red at the tip. Swinging your leg back over you straddle him, sliding your pussy over his length, back and forth. Your nails drag harder down his chest than you ever would have dared before, leaving scarlet paths joining up his inked frame. He bucks, shaking underneath. You continue to glide your sopping heat over him, grinding over the shaft, relishing the tingle of his piercing when it flits over your clit.

"Please, sweet thing." His whole demeanour has changed, begging you, pleading with you. An idea pops into your brain.

Leaning forward, you whisper low and quiet in his ear, "are you gonna be a good boy for me?" The low groan he releases resonates from his chest and into yours, firm hands coming to settle on your hips.

You take his hard length in your hands and guide him into you, slipping gently onto him inch by inch. No matter how many times, it still feels like the first time. Your face scrunches up, discomfort evident.

"You ok sweets?" Eddie's rubbing your hip in consolation.

"Yeah, just... really fuckin' big baby."

He smirks, as always. "Never get tired of hearing that."

Stroking your hands down his chest, you hold onto his sides firmly, possessively, rocking into him. Each movement, each flick of your hips produces a ripple of pleasure. You grind down, rocking hard, back and forth, building up the rhythm, the pressure in your stomach building, your throbbing want intensifying.

Once you start bouncing up and down Eddie's done for. You see his face, desperately trying to keep some measure of control whilst he stares at your tits bouncing right in front of him, at his dick being swallowed up by your hungry cunt.

The noise of squelching sex surrounds you, moans and whines adding to the pornographic soundtrack. You can tell Eddie's barely holding it together, as he quickly reaches for your clit, rubbing almost vicious circles, eager for you to come before he does.

The tell tale tingle grips hold of you, a buzzing through your core and up your spine. The shattering of nerves; a delivery of white hot light spills from his fingertips and into your being, filling you to the brim with his rapture.

You throw your head back at the intense feeling, letting out whimpers of devotion to him, rocking back and forth, willing the moment to continue. You're barely aware of his own release, only realising when you finally snap your eyes open to see his slam shut, tensing beneath you, letting go in a gun shot, tension ripped from his body by your gripping walls.

Leaning forward, hot panting breaths mingling with each others, you press your lips into a searing kiss.

In between pants, Eddie manages, "not that I mind, but fuck, what's gotten into you today, pretty girl?" He chuckles, stroking your cheek with a rough thumb pad.

"You're mine." You simply say, protective hand laid onto the middle of his chest, over his heart. He grips your hand in his, and smiles.

********************

The next evening you're perching on a stool at a moderately busy bar, twisting a napkin in your hands. Nerves have you in their grip whilst you wait for Eddie to arrive, bubbling away in your tummy. It seems strange, but this is technically your second date, the first being when he took you to lunch. Eddie hadn't exactly courted you, he claimed you. If you were honest with yourself, you were his the first time he laid eyes on you.

Still wanting to impress him, you'd decided to dress up. Kitted out in a short black dress with a cute cherry pattern, lower cut than you would usually dare, fishnet hold ups and ankle boots, you were confident he would be pleased.

You had certainly attracted the attention of a few men dotted around the bar, lone sharks circling. Paying them no mind, you sipped your drink and waited on Eddie.

It was a pretty decent looking place, certainly nicer than the dive where you worked. The ceilings were high, with huge light fixtures hanging almost like art pieces, letting out twinkling light, bathing the crowd in spots of colour, sparkling on the red linoleum floor. The atmosphere was buzzing with anticipation for the upcoming band, people smiling, waving at friends, rushing back and forth to the bar to get drinks. You sat on a stool at the end of the bar, neatly tucked in a corner. The light was good here, and it was opposite the main entrance, perfect for spotting Eddie when he eventually got here.

Looking up to check the door again you lock eyes with another man. He smiles and starts walking over.

Well that's typical.

You roll your eyes, but as he gets closer, you breathe a sigh of relief. It's one of the regulars at your bar. At least you may not have to wait for Eddie alone.

"Hey Matt!" You smile as he walks over, giving you a brief hug.

"Hey darlin! Never see you in here, you're always working!" He grins at you. Matt always chatted to you when you were on shift, checking how you were doing. Objectively, he was a handsome guy. Broad shouldered, with a mop of messy ashen blonde hair and perfect teeth. He looked like he was around his mid twenties, and definitely a former jock judging by his physique.

You usually saw him with his girlfriend, an almost frightening replica of him in female form. In your head you'd nicknamed them the Cheer Clones since they reminded you so much of the cheerleaders in your high school.

"Where's-" don't say cheer clone, don't say cheer clone, shit what's her name-

"Jessie? We broke up." He frowns, looking down for a second, then waves at the bar tender.

"Oh, so sorry to hear that, you ok?" You pat his arm in consolation.

"I'll be ok, really. You want a drink?"

"Sure, bourbon and soda please."

He orders and pays for the round, sitting on the bar stool next to you.

"So, hot date?" He asks, waggling his eyebrows.

You giggle, hiding your face in your hands, "yeah how did you know?"

"Er, girl, you live in jeans! He must be pretty special." He grins at you.

You flush at the mere thought of Eddie. You can't deny, these past few weeks had been pretty spectacular.

"Wow, you've got it bad, huh? Pleased for you." He says, sipping his beer, looking just over your shoulder and flashing a small smile.

Before you can turn, an arm is thrown over your shoulder; rough stubble and soft lips touch your forehead.

"Sorry I'm late, sweet thing."

"Eddie!" You smile, looking up at him, but his stony glare is cemented on Matt.

"Baby, this is Matt, he comes to my bar. Matt this is Eddie, my boyfriend." You gesture between the two.

Matt sticks his hand out. Eddie looks at it briefly as if it offends him, before staring back at Matt's eyes.

"Pleasure to meet you." Matt puts his hand down but still flashes a winning smile at Eddie.

"Yeah, nice to meet you too Mike." And he motions his hand at the bar tender, immediately getting his attention and ordering a beer, arm never leaving your shoulders.

"Its Matt, actually-"

"Yeah, sure thing champ." Eddie says dismissively, slaps a note down to pay for the beer, and nearly drags you to your feet.

"Bands about to start, let's go my pretty girl."

You move, being pulled by the wrist, and mouth a 'sorry' at Matt. He just smiles and salutes you as you go past.

Eddie stops once you are free from Matt's gaze, stepping back to pull your arm in the air above you, making you turn for him so he can admire your outfit. You cannot help but admire his.

Eddie's dressed up for you. The first thing that grabs your attention and refuses to let go is the fact that your very sexy boyfriend is wearing eyeliner. That fact alone has you weak at the knees.

He's wearing a black button down, undone to the point of unholiness, exposing his chest tattoos and a thin silver chain just kissing the tops of his pecs. His black jeans are tight, hugging every muscle, leading down to chunky army boots. There's no other way to describe it; he exudes sex. It's as if every fibre of him was made to ooze this animalistic aura; you could nearly smell it in the air.

"You look really great Eddie."

Meeting his eyes, you see his pupils are blown, drinking in every ounce of your figure with blasphemous intention.

"Sweet thing, you look incredible." He pulls you close to wrap his arms around you. "Remind me never to let you wait for me inside a bar again."

You laugh, love drunk eyes roaming his face, "you jealous Mr Munson?"

He kisses you full on the lips, a fiery kiss, hot and messy in its delivery, tongue chasing yours. When he breaks away, you lean forward in hope, missing the contact.

"Why should I be? I already have you." He winks, then pulls you so your back is flush to his chest, manoeuvring you both to face the band who have just come on stage.

The band are indeed decent, and pretty soon the heady atmosphere, the bourbon, and the warm glow of Eddie's arms around you have you grinning and swaying to the music. You're moving your hips, ass against Eddie, enjoying the moment.

Eddie's large hands never leave you. If he's not wrapping his arms around your neck, he's holding you protectively by the hips, keeping you close to him. If anyone in the crowd got too close or rowdy, he was there, keeping you safe.

The band takes a break and Eddie whips you around to face him, hands rubbing up and down your sides, predatory gaze fixed on you.

"If you're gonna keep dancing like that pretty girl, I may just have to take you home." He smiles, biting his lip.

"Hmm, I think you can wait a couple hours." You throw your arms around his neck and press a kiss to his lips.

"Ok, I'm gonna go to the bathroom," he fishes out a note from his pocket and hands it to you, "go grab us some drinks on me."

You take the money and peck him again, scooting your way back over to the busy bar.

The crowd has merged and flowed, making their way to the bar, dam about to burst with the influx of people wanting the same thing.

You queue, waiting for service, when you notice a friendly face next to you.

"Hey Matt, how's your evening going?" You say, touching his arm.

"Great thanks, the bands really good. Look, sorry if I upset your boyfriend there."

You giggle and roll your eyes "don't worry about it."

"Seriously, I didn't mean to offend him I just-"

Suddenly, Matt has disappeared and you are staring at Eddie's torso.

"Come here sweets. Say goodbye to Mark."

You here a small voice say "it's Matt, actually-"

"Whatever kid" Eddie growls, leading you away from the bar.

"Eddie, what are you doing I haven't even got drinks yet-"

"Just come with me."

You allow yourself to be lead, pulled helplessly by the wrist. Eddie snakes around the crowd, leading you past the backstage area and into a small bathroom. It's strange that he seems to know the layout of the place so well. You stop him in his tracks, annoyed by his behaviour.

"Eddie, seriously what's up with you? You know I'm not just gonna leave you right?" Soft eyes meet his.

"I know sweet thing," and he presses you against the wall so fast it makes your head spin.

"I just need everyone else to know that."

Without further warning his hand is stroking up your thigh, fingers grazing your clothed pussy. Given his urgency, his clear need for you, his touch is soft. His other hand snakes to the back of your neck, forcing eye contact. The eyeliner only focuses how intensely he looks at you, dark circles drawing you in.

"Can I make you feel good sweet thing?" Fingertips fondling your heat, hot breath asphyxiating. Eddie overwhelms you, exuding heat, passion making it difficult to breathe.

"Yeah" you manage breathily, devastated by his presence, trying to keep some semblance of self. It's so difficult to when Eddie tears you apart by simply being there, in your space.

Rough fingertips pull your underwear aside and massage across your slit, finding your clit immediately. Your breath catches in your throat, shock of delectation pervading your senses.

Eddie slides two thick fingers deep inside you making you gasp. He rocks them into you, setting a ruthless rhythm, eyes never leaving yours.

"Now, I'm going to make you come pretty girl, twice in a row, and you're gonna enjoy it, ok?"

You mumble some semblance of yes, ability to concentrate considerably lessened by the sure movements of his hand. He curls his digits into you, hitting the spot inside you that makes your toes curl inside your boots.

"Eddie, fuck, yes" you keen and writhe against the wall, eye contact stripping you of any modesty, any thought.

Eddie's relentless movements continue as he sucks bruises onto the tops of your breasts, purple colouring blossoming against your chest, a blooming floral display of blood soaked skin.

"Oh my God Eddie," you moan, his sure hands coaxing pure bliss from your core, sopping wet noise of your arousal echoing through the small space.

"That guy out there, your friend, what's his name?" Eddie's eyes bore into yours, hand not stopping.

You're pulled out of the pleasure pit he's thrown you into, visibly confused. "You- you mean Matt? He's just-"

Eddie doubles his efforts, curling his fingers into you harder, palm rubbing hard against your clit, reigniting the fire in your belly.

"Oh my God Eddie, fuck-" you grind yourself unabashedly against his thick fingers, immense feeling towering over you, threatening to topple at his very command.

"You gonna come pretty girl? My pretty girl?" He says, dark eyes piercing into your very soul, "come then, come on my fucking fingers."

His gravelly voice and confident manoeuvres are pushing you over that edge, emphasis on his swear word singing through your nerves and into your cunt. Unable to process such feeling, such unbridled ardour, you moan loudly into the air without a care of who could hear you.

Your release pushes through you with all the force of a natural disaster. Whipping through your soul like a hurricane of sensation, cunt throbbing with the complexity of feeling. It rips away any insecurities, making you moan as loud as your body needs without fear of repercussion.

But it doesn't stop, not yet. Eddie's not through with you. His movements continue, coaxing you through the orgasm and into the other side, relentless and unabating.

"Fuck Eddie, please, its too much-"

Eddie's free hand grips your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him.

"Do you want me to stop." The question is real, but your commitment waivers, enjoying the relentless hold he has on your pussy.

"No, please-" you moan, your flower continuing to open to him, flesh yielding and soft as putty in his hands. A fuzz settles over your brain; you mind clouded, filled with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Your eyes roll back, unable to control your gaze. Eddie shakes you lightly by the chin, forcing you back to reality.

"So what's that guy's name?"

You look at him through damp lashes, tears building in the corners of your eyes, utterly incapable of speech.

"I said, what's that guy's name?"

"Eddie, fuck I- wha?" Words a slur, body limp against the wall; the only thing keeping you upright is the burly hand firmly between your legs, fingers deep inside; your Eddie's marionette.

"Good girl. That's what I thought." Eddie smiles smugly, running his thumb over your clit in swift motions, fingers continually hitting that spot inside you.

Your second release feels even more powerful than the first, ripping a passionate whine from your throat. The noises you're making are incomprehensible as your whole body seizes up and your slick shoots out, coating Eddie's hand, your thighs, and even the floor.

"Jesus fucking Christ you are the devil." It comes out as a rush, almost one word.

Laughing deviantly, Eddie moves his hand and you nearly crumple to the floor. He catches you, pushing you against the wall with his body. Your eyes are drawn to the deep v in his shirt, to his inky muscled chest.

"Eddie?" You look at him and he stares back, faces impossibly close.

"Yes sweet thing?"

"You've ruined my underwear."

He laughs deeply. "What can I say, it's a talent. Can I take you home my little super soaker?"

You flush with embarrassment, hot cheeks aflame. "Eddie!"

Straightening your clothes and attempting to sort your hair out, you look down, taking in your love bitten chest for the first time. Purple red welts adorn the swell of your breasts in a low necklace of ownership. You'd be mad at him if it didn't make you throb inside.

He leads you back to the bar and towards the main entrance, attempting to get you home as quickly as possible to finish what he's started, when you're stopped in your tracks by cloud of perfume and blonde hair.

"Hey Eds!"

"Hey Estelle, you good? This is my girlfriend I told you about."

You smile at her dutifully, and spot a familiar face yet again, hovering by, his eyes trained on the marks on your chest.

"Estelle, nice to meet you! Hey, have you met Mark?" You gesture at him to move closer while Eddie snickers next to you.

He sticks his hand out to her "it's Matt actually."

Oops.

Masterlist

Tag list part 1- rest will be in the comments

@angelsarecallin @cutiecusp @pxrxcxa @spencerinmydrawls @munsquinns @sillypurplemurple @tiannamortis @walleloveseve @sinczir @biblichornerd @frogers @lauraasiain @madiisixx @leftdonkeygothgoop-blog @rafestarkeysblog @kittykatvenom @southside-serpent-bae @psychedelicsandsunsalutations @biblichornerd @angelina16torres-blog

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msgexymunson · 1 year

Text

Rumour Part 6: Rite

Description: Significant changes are happening, what with you moving in with Eddie, and his band taking off. But, are you both headed in the same direction?

Warnings: NSFW, minors DNI you should know that by this point, Tiny angst, hella fluff, major smut, sub!fem!reader x dom!older!Eddie, spanking, slight anal play, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (wrap it folks!) established relationship

A/N: This was a challenge, I really hope I've given them a good send off. Thank you to everyone who has supported me, I'm really going through it right now so this was hard, but worth it! I hope you enjoy this Eddie as much as I do. Comments and reblogs are integral to my well being at this point, please let me know if you liked it! ❤️

7.7k words

Masterlist Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Wiping at the sweat beads gathering on your forehead, you gaze around the new room. The apartment smells wrong, like past people's lives. The hardwood floors creak under your feet as you move to collect the last of the boxes, sound echoing delicately through the high ceilinged space, along with the tinny noise of the portable radio playing some generic rock song.

This is the biggest place you've ever lived in. The apartment was truly breath taking, such massive windows, an awe-inspiring view that took you by surprise each time; as well as a huge bathroom, and even a spare room for guests. Humming along to the radio, you stride towards the front door at the same time that Eddie walks right through it.

"Leaving already?" He laughs, hauling two boxes under each straining arm.

"I was going to get the last of it." You tilt your head at him, watching how his arms flex under the tension.

"Well, this is the last of it. Come and get it, pretty girl."

You smile and move to help him unload. The rock radio station suddenly changes tracks to an old Kiss record.

Eddie smiles, and starts singing along, reaching towards you, dragging you into a reluctant dance.

"I was made for loving you baby, you were made for loving me" he sings intentionally off key forcing a giggle out of you as he twirls you around.

"Oh God, this song is so old!" Rolling your eyes you attempt to extricate yourself from his grip.

"So? So am I. I remember when this came out, fuck." He looks almost distressed at that fact for a moment, before he recovers, spinning you on the spot and pulling you in flush to his chest.

"So, roomie, what now?" You laugh, batting your eyelashes at his behaviour.

Watching his face, you see his eyebrow raise, eyes squinting as in deep thought.

"Now? Now I take the moving van back. Then after that, well, we have sex in every room. Obviously. It's tradition." Nodding sagely, he states it like it's a well known fact.

"Tradition, huh? Since when?" You smirk back at him.

"Well, these things have to start somewhere, right?" He winks at you, pulling you even closer so he can mouth at your neck.

"Don't, I'm all sweaty!" You giggle, his lips and tongue brushing over your glowing skin.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

Flushing, you push futilely at his face, attempting to move it away from you.

"Pervert."

"We're moving in together, and you've only just realised that? That's on you, sweet thing." Searching for that sweet spot between your neck and shoulder he locates it with ease, biting down hard.

"Oh Fuck, Eddie!" Fingers crunching uncomfortably into his hard biceps you bend your neck, uncontrollably twisting right into his spit slicked grip.

"Yeah? Maybe I should take the van back a little later, huh?" His fingertips flirt with the waistband of your shorts, firm digits pressing into the soft flesh of your tummy. His strokes are soft and measured, mouth moving to nip into the tops of your breasts.

"Eddie…" you try to say in a sing-song, warning manner; but, your voice comes out in a pathetic drawl, whining and needy.

"You want me to stop? Just tell me, pretty girl." He says as he pulls your shorts and underwear down in one swift movement, leaving you bare, exposed to the air and his ministrations.

"Oh Eddie" you breathe out, voice barely whispering, drunk on the mere thought of his touch.

"That ain't a no" he chuckles, roughly pulling his sweatpants down. The hardness of his pierced length presses into your begging cunt, the dripping slick of your anticipation just pleading for his well endowed shaft.

"Baby? Really?" You nearly giggle at his eagerness. That is, until he grasps you by the hips and presses your back against the wall.

"Yes. Really." Rubbing his pierced dick through your folds to gather your slick, he spits down at where you both meet to aid the process, that act alone having you gasping breathily, biting your lip at the lewdness of his actions.

Without another thought he's pushing into you, splitting you open with his imposing cock. You swear you can feel the steel balls of his piercing rubbing against your G spot. Eyes rolling back, you grasp at his arms, legs flailing helplessly in the air as you're suspended in the air by him, as helpless as a rag doll.

"Oh my God, Eddie, fuck." You salivate at the enormous stretch, cunt clenching around his girthy member. He has you pressed against the wall, back solid against the plasterboard and brick.

Hoisting your legs around his waist, you lock him in place deep seated inside of you, your hands woven and tangled with the messy bun his hair is loosely tied up in.

Foreheads touching, you can't help but feel a swell of relief blossoming in your chest at the feel of him filling you entirely.

"You drive me crazy, pretty girl. I just need you, all the time." He huffs a gruff laugh, clinging to your hips.

"I know, this just feels right" you breathe out, planting a soft feather kiss to his nose.

Keeping your back firmly forced against the wall he thrusts into you, pushing you upwards with every stroke. Panting, your heat envelops him, hands grasping his hair desperately, unable to meet his thrusts like this. You're his to use.

"Oh my God!" You moan brazenly, fingertips pressing minute bruises into his shoulders as you feel yourself being pushed to the apex of your concupiscence.

"Yeah? Fuck, you take me so well, such a good fuckin' girl." His drives into you increase, grunting with effort, large inked hands grasping you intensely; you, the object of his desires.

Burning for him, the throb between your legs mounts and mounts, threatening to burst primitively through your nerves.

"Oh Eddie, please," your tongue hangs out of your mouth uncontrollably, tongue stud glinting in the light. Eddie wraps your tongue in his own, rippling around it, licking into the soft heat of your mouth.

Gasping hotly, soft whimpers masked by his lips, Eddie's presence overwhelms you, clambering into your very soul; warm provocative want disbursing throughout you.

Wanton moans reach a crescendo when he pushes you over that precipice with his firm strokes. Your release antagonises every limb, forcing the true magnitude of your pleasure out through your very veins and beyond, the universe having to deal with being saturated with your violent delights.

Coming down, your cunt quivering, you feel his thrusts get harder and more erratic as he spews filth into your ear, hot breath dancing over your skin making you gasp and shiver.

"Fuck, my filthy angel, letting me use this pretty pussy, you drive me fuckin' crazy, with this tight wet cunt of yours, oh fuck!"

With a long, drawn out groan. After a moment, in between panting breaths, you manage to struggle out, "you're feral, Mr Munson."

Eddie laughs deep in his chest, you feel it vibrate through you.

"Only for you, sweet thing."

"I fucking love you baby" You say, lips dressing kisses to his jaw and throat.

"I love you too, sweets." His hands massage into the fat of your hips, lips peppering saccharine kisses to your salty skin.

********************

Nearly three weeks later and you're shoving whatever boxes that couldn't be unpacked on time into the muddle dump of the spare room, the panic of other people being in your space truly settling in.

You hardly feel to blame, you were only given three weeks grace from moving in, to having a party. It was not only your moving in party, but also Eddie's birthday on the 30th, and Halloween on the 31st. The trifecta was a little difficult to ignore.

Striding into the living room littered with black balloons, you move with purpose over to Eddie's weight bench, stifling a whimper at the sight that greeted you.

"Eddie, is that enough decorations… Jesus Christ."

You stop. And stare.

It's been a learning curve, moving in with Eddie. Sometimes, it feels as normal as breathing. On other occasions, he makes your mouth turn dry and your thighs clench and he doesn't even realise what effect he's had on you. This is one of those times.

Eddie's on his weight bench, shirtless, wearing a pair of loose sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips. He positively gleams in the light, muscles and tattoos catching shimmers of light; bending and twisting the glow straight back into your star struck eyes.

It looks like a serious amount of weight he's benching; his torso is drenched in sweat. As he pushes the bar into the clips, he cocks his head and winks at you.

Mouth gaping like a fish, all you can do is watch that self satisfied smirk smooth across those lips like a warm balm.

"Hanging in there sweets?" He winks at you, shattering through your nerves like a freighter.

"I- er, yeah. Just wanted to uh, know, er, if the decorations are ok?" you say, indicating the all black décor.

Your own humming and stammering force your cheeks to blossom into an embarrassed glaze, eyes seeking submission, looking down and away.

"Looks incredible, sweet thing. Are you ok?" He frowns, genuine concern coating his consternation.

You glance back to grasp his eye contact, trying in desperation to avoid gaping at his toned sweaty form.

"I'm fine, just a little nervous you know?" Shrugging it off, you move to turn away, but Eddie's already grasped you firmly, fingertips biting into your upper arm.

"Are you sure? You know, we don't have to have a party if you don't want to."

The furrowed brow, the frown, the grip he has on you; you almost want to cry from the sheer concern to your feelings.

"It's fine baby, I'm ok, just a little nervous."

"You'll be great. You'll knock them dead. Hell, I'm sure everyone will like you more than me by the end of the night." His warm smile and coaxing strokes help to ground you.

"Thank you. I'm gonna get ready, ok? Have you got everything you need so you can change?"

"Yeah I think so, sweets. I put it all in the bathroom. Can I see yours when you're ready?"

You giggle and shrug your shoulders.

"Maybe? It's a surprise."

"Oh I see. Well, I'm sure it'll be hot. Can't wait, pretty girl."

He brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, whilst his eyes leave fire bloomed trails across your skin; even breathing becomes difficult in the sheer strength of his presence.

"Ok, love you." You manage in a huffed breath, planting a tacky lipped kiss to his full lips.

Moving to the bedroom to settle down at your vanity, you apply the most innocent makeup that you can muster, knowing full well that Eddie was going to lose it when he saw you. All doll eyes and soft pink frosted lips.

It didn't take as long as you had left to get ready, but tactically you stayed alone in the bedroom just a little while longer.

You know, as sure as death and taxes, that Eddie will outstrip himself of all composure at the sight of your outfit. One of the many reasons why you felt it necessary to hide until just before the party commences. I mean, if he saw you before, you're well aware of how quickly you'd be pinned to the bed due to his desires.

Five minutes to go, and you feel just safe enough to make your exit. You know he has no time to manifest his impulses. Stepping out of the bedroom, you move towards him in your white low cut strappy top, white pleated tennis skirt and trainers, complete with angel wings and golden wire halo. Your thigh high socks are pristine, a white glow of virgin material, matching the soft white feathers of your faux wings. Turning on the spot in a flirty display, you give out a small girlish giggle.

"Holy fucking shit sweetheart. I mean, well. Fuck."

Whilst he clambers for speech, you catch a moment to take in just how good he looks.

As far as effort, it's not much. But you can't help but feel any more would be too much. Gilding the lily. Taking a deep breath, you attempt to steady yourself.

Looking from his large feet upwards, it's standard Eddie attire. Clunky combat boots, black jeans, and a black belt with a custom devil's head buckle. Glancing upwards is where it gets interesting. A maroon button down shirt adorns him, the sleeves rolled up and so unbuttoned that the majority of his glistening inked chest is exposed.

Fake blood makes its slow, antagonising drip from his neck down the rippling muscles of his torso. Fingertip smudges lay on his toned neck, drawing your eye to his stubbly chiselled jaw and cheekbones. His eyes look sunken due to the heavy eyeliner that sat there, enhancing his dramatic stare. The piece de la resistance lay in his curling mop of hair. Bone-like horns rose from his scalp into the atmosphere, so naturally they appeared to be a part of his body; you couldn't even work out how they were attached.

The most dramatic part of all were the all black contact lenses that appeared to not only take over his irises, but also the whites of his eyes, making him look possessed. Pure inky black orbs stare back at you in a way that makes your thighs clench with want.

Eddie's just about as lost in your looks as you are lost in his.

"Did you- did you know, sweet thing?"

"I saw the package arrive with the custom horns, I kinda knew from there. I had a school girl outfit, but I thought it would be cute to match, you know?"

Watching Eddie intently you notice a heavy swallow; an attempt to compose himself.

"A school girl outfit too? Which you have?" The shakiness of his voice ripples a chuckle through your chest.

"Yes, a school girl outfit. But you like this, right?"

"Oh you have no fuckin' idea sweets."

Taking your hand, he moves to spin you in a slow circle. When your back is to him however, he can't help but flip your skirt up to flash your underwear to his perverted gaze.

"Hey!"

"Hey what?" He says, like it's the most normal thing in the world.

"Creep."

He laughs in his throat, lifting your skirt again for a final peek.

"Can you blame me? I mean, look at this little white lace number, how I'm I supposed to control myself?"

As you giggle, pulling your skirt down, the doorbell rings.

"Ooh you're gonna get it later for this. I know what you're doing. You menace."

He takes long strides, aiming for the front door, and opens it with a single swing.

"Eddie!"

"Well, you would be first eh? Welcome, bro."

Squinting at the doorway, all you can see is the shiny white plastic of a stormtrooper costume.

A rather muffled voice emanates from the helmet. "Well, I've got to be on time, and meet this girl of yours. Good evening ma'am." He storms quite aptly into your apartment, sections of armour rapping with a dull noise.

Don't say it, don't say it, don't say it. I'm gonna say it.

"Aren't you a little short for a stormtrooper?"

The man in front of you struggles out of the white helmet, shakes out a mane of curly brunette hair and announces to Eddie, "marry her. Immediately."

Eddie laughs and swings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him so he can plant an affectionate kiss to your forehead. The stormtrooper pulls his white gauntlet off and gives you a keen but sweaty handshake.

"Dustin. Dustin Henderson. I'm Eddie's best friend."

"No you aren't."

"Er, yeah I am. Duh."

You laugh at their ongoing argument and gesture to invite him in. As he walks past, rambling about the size of the place and everything that Eddie's missed back home, you grip Eddie by the shoulder lightly, stealing his movements briefly.

Keeping your voice low, just for him, you say "Just, before this all starts, I wanted to ask if there's anything you wanted later tonight? You know, special, for your birthday?"

Eddie chuckles lowly as his hand engulfs your own. The other grips you firmly by the chin, forcing your doe eyes to meet his black steely glare, contacts magnifying his dominance.

"Oh sweet thing, there's only one thing I want you to do tonight."

Cocking your head with an unasked question, Eddie grins and bends to whisper hot breath in your ear. Just one word. One word is all he needs.

"Obey."

As quickly as it's said, he's gone, walking after Dustin with long strides, talking about back home. He's left you standing dumbly in the doorway; thighs clenched, mouth dry, with a hot blush creeping up your neck.

Trying to take soothing, calm breaths, you walk back into the apartment on almost wobbling legs. That is until the doorbell goes again. This time, it's Eddie's bandmates and manager.

The stream of party goers continues steadily and you spend your time meeting, greeting, dumping coats, and fixing drinks. The server within you goes on autopilot helping with every little thing. That is until you hear Eddie's laugh across the room, clear as a bell.

He's standing with Dustin and some other guy you don't recognise. Thinking it was about time you checked in, you move to walk over when a snippet of their conversation stops you dead in your tracks.

"So, I thought you were bringing Harrington? Haven't seen him in ages."

"Well he was gonna, but Nance went into labour. Kid number six. Can you believe that?"

"Six? Jesus H Christ, he doesn't mess around!"

"Oh, he told me to ask you specifically, 'when is that freak gonna finally settle down and have kids?' His words, not mine, trust me!"

Eddie chuckles. "Tell him, soon."

It's as if someone had stabbed an icicle through your heart. All the blood drains from your face in absolute shock. Mouth gaping for a moment, you spin on your heel and make your way to your bedroom.

Closing the door to shut out the noise of the party, you perch on the end of the bed, trying and failing to gather your thoughts.

Kids? Eddie Munson wants kids? There had been no inclinations, no hints at that at all. Honestly, you were so sure deep in the marrow of your bones that he didn't that you hadn't even thought to ask.

Trying to gulp down the lump of panic that threatened to rise in your throat, you force yourself to stop your hands wringing and take deep breaths. This isn't the time to panic. This is the time to talk.

Steeling your rattling nerves, you stand up in a false confident motion and make your way to the door, just as Eddie ploughs through it.

"Sweet thing, I thought I saw you run in here. You good? Party too much?" A concerned hand cups your cheek in the gentlest manner, belying his outward demonic appearance.

"I'm- I'm fine. Well, not fine, exactly." You huff, knowing it's too much for right now, but neither of you were going to feel peace until this conversation was had.

"Come on then, what's up?" He perches lightly on the edge of your shared bed, patting the space next to him openly.

You sit, hand automatically seeking his, entwining his digits with your own. Looking down at your conjoined hands you breathe, and breathe, and speak.

"Listen, I get it, if you want kids I understand. It's just I know I've said I was good with marriage but kids are something I've never wanted myself and I know it'll come between us and if you want to end things I understand but I-"

"Woah, woah there sweet thing, slow down. What are you saying?"

You stop to breathe again, in an attempt to cease the incoherent rambling threatening to control your tongue.

"I'm saying if you want to break up with me I get it. I didn't know you wanted a family."

A bubble of a chuckle spills out from Eddie's chest, making you flinch. How could he laugh at a time like this? You feel your cheeks flash with crimson fury.

"I do not think it's funny Eddie."

"Well I do, pretty girl."

You whip your head to face him, rage threatening to broil over, staring incredulously. That is until he speaks.

"I don't want kids sweets. Where's this come from?"

You gape, mouth opening and closing like a caught fish.

"I- what? You just said, to Dustin! You told him ‘soon’!"

A full belly laugh consumes Eddie then, face creasing with the effort. You attempt to pull your hand from his in frustration but it just makes him grip on all the tighter.

"I'm sorry, sweets, let me explain. I always say that to Steve. It's kind of an in joke. Any time he tells me I need to settle down and have kids, I always tell him 'soon'. He knows I don't want kids, I've told him enough times. I'm sorry, it's just a running gag. I didn't mean to upset you."

"Well, now, now I feel stupid." You toss your head back to stare at the ceiling, willing the unnecessary tears to flee before they ruin your makeup.

"Hey, you're not stupid. Look at me."

Nothing could stop his ironclad voice gripping you and turning your head as if it were mechanical.

"It's a misunderstanding. Glad we caught it before it got out of hand. I'm not letting you go sweetheart. You're worth way more than some imaginary kids."

A weak smile dances across your lips. Eddie reaches out a calloused thumb to rub an errant tear away.

"Look at you, pretty girl, getting all worried. C'mere." You crawl into his lap, swaddled in strong arms. Safe.

Gripping your chin he tilts your face into an all encompassing kiss. The noise of the party lies forgotten outside, unimportant. Lips move sensually as one, tongues reaching out to stroke each other.

Eddie pulls away gently, black contact-lensed eyes sparkling devilishly.

"We best leave and get these presents out the way, or I'm never leaving this bedroom."

He winks and helps you out of his lap gently, holding out a strong hand to help you to your feet.

"Oh shit, sorry sweets." Pointing at your front, you follow his finger and notice the smudge of fake blood on the pristine white of your top.

"Well, that was inevitable." Shrugging it off, you move your way to the door, turning to take in his taunt frame one last time in private, before you have to share him again.

The next couple of hours whizz by in a whirlwind of Halloween music, pleasing platitudes and jaw aching smiles. The presents Eddie receives are vast and thoughtful, so much so that it makes you doubt your own gift.

Finally, he puts a 20 year old bottle of scotch to the side, a gift from John, his manager, and looks to open yours. Your heart sits heavily in your throat in anticipation.

Ripping the wrapping away, Eddie freezes in his tracks, hands hovering as if paused.

Cringing at the awkwardness of the silence you can't help but attempt to fill it with meaning.

"I know it's the same as the guitar you had to sell ages ago, and I just wanted it to be special, you know? So I asked John and he pulled some strings."

The N.J series Warlock shines almost evilly in red and black, the erratically curved body glossily gleaming in the light. All apart from the matt black signature clearly on display.

"Is this- is this Kirk Hammett's signature? As in, Kirk Hammett? Metallica's Kirk Hammett? How?"

You blush at his piercing gaze, eyes looking down and away.

"Well, I found the guitar, and John got in touch with their agent and I had a chat with their manager, told them how much of a fan you are, and sorted it all. Do you like it?"

"You have no idea, sweets. That's the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. This is the best gift I've ever got. Thank you." He reaches out to compulsively stroke your knuckles with his rough fingertips, eyes glossing over.

After another hour or so the party eventually dies down. The last to leave is Dustin, after several promises that you will both visit Indiana soon and participate in a Dungeons and Dragons one shot with the old Hellfire gang.

At long last, the front door is shut, and all is silent. You let out a breath you weren't aware you were holding and walk towards the kitchen to start cleaning up. That is until a large hand wraps round the entirety of your wrist, stilling your movements immediately.

"What do you think you're doing, pretty girl?"

A flush creeps up the expanse of your neck, threatening to spill out onto your cheeks.

"I was- I thought I'd tidy up a bit, you know?"

"Sweet thing, we can sort this out tomorrow, together. You need to get in the bedroom. Right now."

For a moment you pause, a glass in each hand, halted in your activity. Eddie's large palm cups your cheek in the most delicate of manners. Hot breath permeates your space; a gust of suffocating heat that draws all air from your lungs.

"Did I stutter?"

You take in a sharp breath, eyes focusing on his firm gaze, his muscular frame, his horns. You place the glasses you're holding on the nearest sideboard and hustle your way to the bedroom.

Perching feather light on the edge of the bed, you clench your thighs in anticipation, not daring to strip off any clothes, waiting for his say so. It's unclear exactly when Eddie's word became unimpeachable, yet here you were, unwilling to untie your shoe without his permission. If it were anyone else you may find it within you to be embarrassed, but it was Eddie. You trusted him with every fibre of your being. He had you listening to him without question, because of the respect you had both fostered for each other. Something about him giving orders pressed your thighs together with urgent need.

The door swings open and Eddie strides in. You gaze up at him with wide eyes, staring at his muscular torso with inescapable want. Every nerve ending was singing with his previous word. Obey.

"Well look at you. Must be my birthday." Eddie smiles. It spreads across his face stickily, like warm wax and honey, drawing you in with its seemingly sweet demeanour.

"What do you want from me baby?" You blink at him, eyes round and wet and innocent.

"Well, I suppose you can make up for the teasing from earlier." He smirks and sits down on the edge of the bed, patting his knee in an effort to make you join him.

Staring at him cluelessly, Eddie tires of your games and manhandles you into position. A gasp escapes your lips when you find yourself bent over his knee with your ass unceremoniously in the air, practically begging for his succour.

Eddie flips your stark white skirt up to expose your lacy french knickers.

"Well, look at these pretty, pretty things. Pity you were such a tease earlier. Five on each cheek, seems fair right?"

A harsh breath expands your lungs in shock at his words.

“You've never done that many before.”

“You’ve never deserved it before.”

"I wasn't, I wasn't that bad baby. Please."

Eddie's laugh vibrates through the flesh of your thighs.

"Oh sweet girl, I think you know how bad you've been. So just do what I told you to do and obey, or it'll be ten for each cheek, ok sweetheart?"

Every fibre of your lower being threads together, tensing with the threat.

"Ok ok, I'm sorry baby."

"Good girl. See, I knew you had it in you."

He doesn't bother with further words, just spreads your ass over his thighs.

The first is little more than a tap, a teasing gesture to warm you up to the idea. You lay across him as still as possible, trying to will your muscles not to clench. The second is harder, the third harder still. Then the fourth happens. A proper spank, you feel it deep in the muscle of your ass. As soon as his large hand makes contact an involuntary mewling noise escapes your lips, high pitched and whiny.

“You OK sweet thing? Colour?” Eddie says, referring to your safe word system whilst rubbing softly over the impact, soothing away the sting.

“Yes Sir, green.”

Eddie lets out a self satisfied hum with the honorific.

“There’s my good girl.”

The shock of the fifth strike rips a moan from your throat, laced with need.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you enjoyed that.” Eddie’s voice reaches you, laden with something akin to pride.

“I mean maybe, a little.” You can’t escape the blush that reaches to the roots of your hair.

“Maybe, huh? Want me to stop?”

“No!” You exclaim at once, all embarrassment forgotten.

Eddie’s deep laugh at your eagerness vibrates from his tensing thighs into the flesh of your stomach.

“Atta girl, doing so good for me.” You try to control the way you want to squirm at the warmth of his words, face heating at the praise.

Suddenly, he delivers two quick slaps to the other cheek making you tense up; a strangled shocked noise forces itself out of your mouth. Eddie chuckles, soothing the red mark with gentle touches. His hand slips under the fabric of your panties stroking at the tender skin.

“Mind if I take these off, pretty girl?”

“N-no, that’s fine.” you lift yourself in the air, allowing him to roll your underwear off. You can’t help but cringe at the way they stick to your aroused heat, clinging to your core with the evidence of your desire.

“Fuck, these are soaked, sweet thing. I knew you were into this.” He hums, pleased with himself, and delivers another sharp smack to your ass, eliciting a whine from you. “Just two more sweets. Are you gonna be good for me?”

“Yes, please Eddie, please.”

The final smacks come down hard; the sting ringing across your skin in a ripple of white hot pain that borders on pleasure. Your fingers curl tightly shut, eyes squeezing small tears out of the corners.

“That’s it, pretty girl, all done. Such a good girl, taking it so well.”

You clamber off his lap, wiping at an errant tear. Moving to sit, you wince at the contact of your sore skin on the mattress.

“I’m sorry sweets, is it too sore? Here, get on your hands and knees for me. I need to taste my favourite thing.” He grins at you.

“Don't you want me to look after you? It’s your birthday.” You frown.

“No need to worry your pretty head about it, you know I want to.”

Easing yourself into position, you baulk at the sudden feeling of his tongue running through your folds. This position feels different and dirty; you’re entirely exposed to him. At his mercy.

Arching your back, you can’t help but push into his tongue, feeling his piercing run across you, slathering your cunt with his spit, making it even wetter than before. He slides it inside, fucking into you, before slipping out and running his tongue up to your ass. The unexpected feeling shakes you; being entirely inexperienced with any anal play you're surprised at how much you like it, how much your body wants to chase the feeling of his tongue. Moaning and shamelessly pushing back into him, you feel your core begin to ignite, threatening to blaze throughout your body.

Feeling the coarseness of Eddie’s fingertips rubbing against your clit, your ceaseless mewling grows louder, warmth pooling in your belly.

“Oh yes Eddie, please, don’t stop!” You plead, as if he were about to halt his movements. Nothing could have stopped him at this point; he was just as intent at pushing you over the edge as you were in falling over it.

Eddie’s tongue continues to tease and lap at your hole as you struggle to keep upright, knees wanting to buckle from the sheer volume of sensations coursing their way through you. Your sounds are desperate and hoarse; you’ve been so loud it's straining your throat.

Finally, the cord snaps and a wave of intense pleasure flows out of you, rippling over each nerve, winding its way over and around you, engulfing you in its warm glow.

Unable to keep your own head upright, your body sinks into the mattress, ass up, in an obscene mannequin’s pose. You don’t find it in you to care, still coming down from the intensity of your orgasm.

“That good for you, pretty girl?”

You make a noise, almost an ‘uh huh’. Eddie chuckles and begins stripping off his clothes. You hear his jeans and shirt hit the floor with a soft noise.

“I didn’t know you were into that; you’re just full of surprises, sweets. My filthy fuckin’ angel.”

You turn to face him, sprawled out unceremoniously on the bed. You fling your arm underneath you in order to hold yourself as upright as you can manage right now.

“Honestly, I didn’t know I was into that. You’re corrupting me, Mr Munson.”

Eddie smiles like the devil himself.

“Say it again.”

Furrowing your brow, you glance at him with a questioning gaze.

“You’re corrupting me?”

“Fuck, why is that so hot.”

He shakes his head, almost with disbelief, as he discards his underwear and lays down. He’s still wearing the horns, protruding from his head like some demonic entity. Seeing him laying there, with the black contacts still in, positively smothered with fake blood, dark tattoos and a thin sheen of sweat, you could almost believe he was a demon. You certainly weren't thinking angelic thoughts right now.

“So, angel, you gonna strip for me?” Eddie’s smile is encumbered with his desires, teeth flashing crudely.

Face flushing scarlet, you move to start taking your wings off. It’s Eddie’s turn to blush.

“Can- can you keep those on? I kinda like the idea of fucking an angel.”

Giggling shyly, you strip off entirely, and put the angel wings back on. You leave the halo too. He may as well get the full experience.

“C’mere.” Eddie gestures with grabbing hands, asking you to climb on top of him.

“Eddie I don’t think I-”

“Just come here. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. Just want a good view.”

You scramble unsurely onto his lap on wobbly legs, soaking wet heat rubbing against his throbbing member. Eddie’s large, rough palms massage calming motions into the fat of your hips, making you feel more secure.

Sinking down onto his massive length, you bite your lip at the stretch, velvet quivering walls swallowing him whole; besmearing his length in your sticky slick.

“Eddie, I-I can’t, my legs-'' Your bottom lip shakes, knowing you don’t have the strength to ride him like he deserves.

“Hey, pretty girl, I’ve got you, it’s alright.” Each of his huge hands engulf your ass as he picks you up bodily and slams you back down against his pubic bone, cock buried deep within you, knocking all the air out of your lungs with the sheer force of the thrust. Your fake wings shake as if they were attempting to flutter towards the stars. Only it doesn’t stop. Eddie keeps slamming you into him, coarse pubic hair teasing your swollen clit, the hard thrusts feeling heavenly; each singular movement hitting that spot inside so deep it’s making you see God.

“Oh my- Oh my God, yes!”

Your mewling cries are proliferating with each heavy propulsion into your sopping heat. Struggling to keep your head upright, you feel it lolling to the side, overridden by the utter depravity of each drive into your begging cunt.

“That’s it, fuck yes, I’m your fuckin’ God now. Take it, my filthy fuckin’ angel. So tight for me.” Eddie’s thrusts into you increase in power, propelling into you with an obscene squelching sound. The fluttering of your satin walls only intensifies at his filthy words, sending a deep shudder into the depths of your core. Your walls uncontrollably twitch around his imposing length, shattering any hope you had of keeping composure.

Without further warning, the dam breaks. An intense flow of celestial light traverses throughout your every vein, your pussy desperately clamping around him, threatening to never let go. This feeling, this majesty of enamour, is something you wish to never see the end of. The intensity of it shocks you to your very core and washes away all previous versions of yourself, leaving you with you; here and now, a you that nothing else could ever contend with. A you that is his; owned by Eddie, through and through.

A few quick thrusts and Eddie is following you, painting your insides with the throbbing mess of his release. Sinking onto his chest, you snuggle close to him; fake blood and all.

“Well sweets, we’re a fuckin’ mess.” Eddie chuckles, gesticulating at the myriad of bodily fluids and Halloween blood that coats you both.

“I know, baby. Five more minutes?” You gaze at him with expectant eyes.

“Anything for you, pretty girl. Plus, we should shower together. We've not crossed the bathroom off the list." He winks.

********************

Today’s the day. One year since your impromptu date with Eddie. One year since you were unable to get this man off of your mind. One year since your life had been turned upside down, in the best of ways.

“Sound check! Come on guys, let’s get this rolling!”

You’d been hanging out backstage with Eddie and the rest of the band, helping them set up for what looks to be their most popular show yet. It hadn’t been the plan for your anniversary, of course. Eddie had made a point of letting you know that; but tour dates had changed and you had felt that it was easier for you to make a compromise than it was for the rest of the band, not to mention the hundreds of people watching them perform.

Their band, Tongue Tattoo, had braced the edges of obscurity and were suddenly thrust into the limelight with relatively no warning, as these things often develop. The pride you felt when watching him perform was unmatched. Unfortunately, you couldn’t help the niggling need to have him to yourself on your anniversary, but knowing Eddie, you had no doubt in your mind that he would make up for it with alacrity.

“Hey, sweet thing”

Turning to face him, you see your gorgeous partner Eddie, kitted out in leatherette pants and a mesh shirt, looking as delectable as ever.

“Hey baby” you envelop his lips with the sweetest kiss.

“Can you do me a favour, pretty girl? The crowd’s just getting too big. Can you stay backstage? On the sides is fine, I just don’t want you near the pit. It’s too much.”

You frown, but nod your agreement. It was a lot, and you wanted to stay safe, if only for him.

“Atta girl. I’ll be looking for you, OK?”

“Sure baby, I’ll be there.”

He smiles warmly at you whilst planting a soft kiss to your knuckles. You can’t help but watch him walk away, eyes trained on the expanse of his muscled back.

Feeling like a spare part, you do your best to stay out of the way of everyone trying to set up for the show. The intense, out of order shout of everyone attempting to execute roles to little effect was draining on you.

“Hey, Eddie said you were staying backstage.”

John, Eddie’s manager, called out to you, an unlit cigar clamped firmly between his teeth. There was something a bit too slick, too neat about him, but you suspected this was just a trend of band managers. He had always been sweet to you, especially when fixing Eddie’s most recent gift.

“John! Thank God, I’m sorry, I think I’m in the way.” You shrug, heat blossoming on the apples of your cheeks.

“Not at all girl, all these guys are in your way, OK? Come stand over here, stage right, you can still see the show, and not be bothered by all these sweaty roadies, OK doll?” He flashes a greasy grin, proffering a hand. You take it gratefully and stand in the pre ordained spot.

“Thanks John, I don’t wanna be in the way.”

“Nonsense, everyone else is in the way! You wanna make it in Hollywood, you remember that.” He flashes a grin and moves off to tell someone how to do their job.

Giggling at his confidence, you attempt to manifest some of your own as the lights dim and the rumble of the crowd is thrown into overload.

Stage lights flicker into life, yellow and purple and red, and you glimpse the side profile of the love of your life. His cheeky side grin, the shimmer off of his hair. His pulsating aura, spreading out and hitting everyone it comes into contact with.

No matter how many times you see it, how many slightly different manifestations there were, you remain utterly enamoured with their show. The sounds, the sights, the theatrics; it drew you in every time, until your focus was irrefutably on Eddie, and Eddie alone.

He glowed. There was no other way to describe it. He was a luminous being, not this crude matter. Every pore of his seemed to exude this all encompassing sexual energy which quickly drew you in and made you impervious to any other energies surrounding him.

The show, as predicted, was phenomenal. Towards the end of the encore, you look to make your way on pre-programmed legs to Eddie’s dressing room, hovering further back from your viewing spot. He's pulling his guitar strap over his head and placing it down reverently; except, Eddie’s not leaving.

"Who wants to meet the prettiest girl in the building?" Eddie's gravelly voice projects into the microphone. You blush profusely as he gestures to you. Reluctantly, you wobble forward, taking a few unsure steps so you're just in view of the crowd. There's a rumble of applause and cheers from the fans, waving and shouting at your presence. Glancing out at a sea of faces you can't help but feel overwhelmed.

Eddie reaches his hand out to give you an encouraging squeeze which you accept gladly.

"Our last song is dedicated to you, sweet thing."

The band starts playing a slow number which sounds vaguely familiar; you can't quite place it at first, until Eddie starts singing.

"When you were here before

Couldn't look you in the eye

You're just like an angel…"

It's Creep, by Radiohead. One of your favourite songs. You didn't even know he knew that. Their version is heavier; it has a bite, an edge to it. Paired with Eddie's husky singing it quickly becomes your favourite version.

He winks at you, half of the time singing just for you, the other half playing up to the crowd.

"But I'm a creep

I'm a weirdo!"

You giggle as he shouts into the microphone, harsh voice juxtaposing the melodic sound of the verse before it. Finishing the chorus, he strides over to you and grabs your hand, guiding you gently to the front of the stage.

"Eddie, what are you-"

Dropping his voice, low and quiet, he stares into your eyes.

"Whatever makes you happy

Whatever you want."

There's a sparkle to his eyes, a softness that threatens to spill down his cheeks for the world to see. Then, he kneels in front of you, pulling a ring box from his shirt pocket.

Time stops. Nothing as crass as seconds can possibly take place in this undying moment. The roar from the crowd echoes; rippling off the soundless bubble encompassing you both. It's trivial; barely registering. The moment stretches and lingers; you know it'll remain eternally in some way, an ouroboros; always there in your mind's eye.

Realising you're holding your breath, you take in a ragged gulp of air. It triggers the gathering tears that start to fall from saturated eyelashes.

"Sweet thing, you're so fuckin' special. You've left your mark on my heart, more permanent than any tattoo. I need you with me, for the rest of my life. Will you marry me?"

"Yes, yes, of course!" You hurl yourself to his level, knees buckling, throwing your arms around his neck with abandon.

Kissing and kissing and kissing him, he breaks away briefly.

"Do you want to see the ring?" He chuckles into the mic, eliciting a ripple of giggles in the hall.

Holding out your hand, he slides the ring onto your finger. A beautiful piece; it has a white gold, almost vine-like band, with a stunning ruby set in the centre. It reminds you of a rose.

"It's beautiful Eddie, thank you."

Eddie grins, says "Thank you and good night" to the audience before abandoning the mic and scooping you up in his arms, taking you utterly by surprise.

"Eddie! Jesus-"

"Hold on, sweets, I need you." He smiles deviously at you, making his way across the stage with large strides to whisk you away somewhere private.

You smile at his antics and fling your arms around his neck, nuzzling close. Some things, you hope, will never change.

Masterlist

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