#surg ed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

willowbelle · 1 month

Text

Hunger

luffy & jealousy + possessiveness

per this request from my 500 follower event!

❤︎ luffy x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: jealousy, infatuation, breast play, oral (f receiving), first-time-sex, wall-sex, messy sex, possessive sex, use of “say you’re mine”, fluff.

summary: luffy is confused about his emotions, therapist/mother robin to the rescue, luffy is jealous of seeing reader with someone else, luffy confesses his love for reader, reader is a bit of a tease, luffy is a bit of a softdom, luffy is silly, fluff, possessive sex ensues.

word count: ~5,000

tagging: @luckycheesecakeangel @missmugiwara @bby-deerling @3v37773 @laylaloves-ed @shamblespirate @lowkeycasanova @maddddstuff

Hunger

Luffy is a force to be reckoned with.

A dream-driven man with a stong heart and big goals.

The strawhat captain seems to always possess an infectiously optimistic and cheerful demeanor, seemingly boundless in its exuberance.

And yet, something seemed to shift in Luffy when you joined his crew.

Something foreign stirred within the rubber man’s heart at the sight of you with someone else.

His once unwavering buoyant spirit falters, replaced by a gnawing sense of unease. His demeanor, once brimming with optimism, now bore traces of insecurity and envy, casting an unusual shadow over his usual vibrant presence.

----

As he sits alone on the deck of The Sunny, his gaze lifts towards you nestled in the crow's nest alongside Usopp, sharing laughter and conversation as you peer through the telescope onto the open sea.

A knot begins to tighten in his stomach, a feeling he’s never experienced before. It’s a surge of conflicting emotions—longing mingled with frustration, desire tempered by insecurity. He can’t quite place it; it’s alien, unsettling, and leaves him feeling confused and frustrated by its elusivity.

He balls his fists, shuts his eyes tightly and wrinkles his nose before letting out a frustrated sigh. What was happening to him? He’s going to be the King of the Pirates, he can’t be held back by something he doesn’t even understand.

This uncharted territory challenges Luffy. He’s always been fearless, plunging himself into uncertain situations without a second thought; blinding following his heart as he charges through predicaments with a wide smile and laughter as his battle cry. His courage knows no bounds, once he sets his mind to something, he'll stop at nothing to achieve it.

Yet, in this moment of solitude on the deck, he finds himself grappling with an emotion entirely alien to him. Despite his typical determination to conquer any challenge, this unfamiliar tide of jealousy erodes his confidence, tickles his skin and buries its way into his conscience, leaving him exposed and adrift in uncertainty.

----

Robin is quiet in her approach, slipping beside the captain completely unnoticed as his eyes are still screwed shut, internally wrestling with his emotions.

“Luffy,” the tall woman says quietly, placing a gentle hand on her captain’s shoulder, “Are you alright?”

Luffy's eyes flicker open at the touch of Robin's hand on his shoulder, surprise evident in his expression as he turns to look at her. He finds solace in her motherly presence, her calm demeanor a soothing contrast to the turmoil raging within him.

For once, he takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I- I don't know, Robin. Something feels off. Never felt like this before."

Robin's gaze softens, her understanding evident as she meets his eyes. "Emotions can be complex, Luffy. Even the strongest of us struggle with them from time to time." She rubs soothing circles into his shoulder as she speaks, “Can you describe what you’ve been feeling?”

Luffy lets out a long exhale, his shoulders relaxing under Robin's soothing touch.

"It's like... there's this tight knot in my chest," he begins, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant, "I've always charged into things without thinking too much, but now... it's different. There's this feeling of... of wanting something I can't have, and it's driving me crazy."

"Are you thinking about something or someone in particular?" Robin inquires, sensing the shift in his persona.

Luffy's gaze shifts, his expression reflecting a mix of hesitation and vulnerability. "Yeah... I'm thinking about her," he confesses, eyes darting upwards to you in the crow’s nest, his voice barely above a whisper.

Robin hums and nods understandingly, her eyes empathetic as she waits for him to continue.

"She's always been there, you know?" Luffy continues, his voice gaining strength with each word. "But seeing her up there with Usopp... it's like a punch to the gut. What does that mean, Robin?"

The tall woman chuckles warmly, impressed by her captain’s vulnerability.

“I think you’re jealous, captain,” she speaks kindly, but there’s a hint of amusement evident in her tone.

"Jealous?" the rubber man questions.

"It’s a natural emotion that arises when we feel threatened by the possibility of losing something or someone we care about to someone else." she begins, "It can stem from a fear of being replaced or left behind, or from a deep-rooted desire to possess what we perceive as rightfully ours," Robin elaborates, her tone patient and empathetic.

Luffy reacts with immediate defiance, as is his custom, shaking his head adamantly in denial.

"Me? Jealous? Pfft, no way!" he retorts, his stubbornness evident in his refusal to accept her diagnosis.

Robin offers a knowing smile, recognizing Luffy's typical reluctance to acknowledge his vulnerabilities.

"Luffy, it's okay to feel jealous," she reassures him, her voice gentle yet firm. "It's a natural part of being human. It’s completely normal to feel this way, especially when it comes to matters of the heart. It doesn't make you any less strong or brave."

Luffy grumbles under his breath, still reluctant to admit to himself that he's experiencing such a seemingly weak emotion.

"But think about it, Luffy," Robin continues, her tone encouraging. "Jealousy shows that you care deeply about this person, that they mean a lot to you. It's a sign of the strength of your feelings."

Luffy's expression softens as he considers Robin's words, a flicker of understanding dawning in his eyes.

"Maybe you're right, Robin," he admits reluctantly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But what do I do about it?"

"Well, first, you acknowledge your feelings," she advises, "Then, you talk about them, like you're doing now.”

Determination has found him again, and Luffy rises from the deck, courage etched into every line of his expression. He turns to Robin, his eyes alight with determination.

"I'm going to talk to her!" he declares, his voice ringing with a familiar conviction.

Robin smiles, her pride evident as she nods in approval. "I'm proud of you, Luffy. Remember, honesty and sincerity will always guide you."

----

With those words echoing in his mind, Luffy sets off across the deck, his heart pounding with anticipation. As he approaches the crow’s, his nerves threaten to overwhelm him, but he pushes them aside, focusing on the goal ahead, like he always does.

Luffy ascends the steps to the crow's nest with a determined stride, his heart beating a steady rhythm of courage. As he reaches the top, he finds you and Usopp engrossed in conversation, your laughter mingling with the gentle breeze.

"Hey, Luffy!" Usopp greets him with a wide grin, but Luffy's focus remains on you.

"I need to talk to you!" Luffy blurts out.

You look up at your captain, surprise flickering across your features at his sudden request.

"Sure, Luffy! What's on your mind?"

“J-Just come with me!” the strawhat captain stammers.

You exchange a curious glance with Usopp before nodding, intrigued by Luffy's urgency. Following him down from the crow's nest, you make your way to his quarters so you can talk in private.

"What's going on, Luffy?" you ask, concern knitting your brow as you take in the seriousness etched into his expression.

But instead of answering, he simply rushes forwards, abruptly pressing you against the wall and immediately closing the distance by crashing his lips onto yours.

“Mm!” you let out a surprised whimper as your captain’s lips roughly meet yours.

Caught completely off guard by Luffy's sudden and bold move, you freeze for a moment, your mind racing with a whirlwind of emotions. His lips against yours ignite a fire within you, stirring feelings you never knew existed.

As his kiss deepens, you find yourself responding instinctively, melting into the warmth of his embrace. His lips are rough and chapped but you don’t care, you just want this to continue. The world around you fades away, leaving only the sensation of his lips moving against yours, the beat of his heart echoing in sync with your own.

When Luffy finally pulls back, his eyes search yours, filled with a mixture of uncertainty and longing.

"I... I'm sorry," he stammers, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I just... I had to do that."

But before he can say more, you reach out and gently cup his face in your hands, a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Luffy, it's okay," you reassure him, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time too."

Relief floods over Luffy's features, his eyes sparkling with joy as he realizes that his feelings are reciprocated. Without another word, he pulls you into a tight embrace, holding you close as if never wanting to let go.

“What finally made you do it, Luffy?” you whisper softly, the inquiry warm against his neck.

Luffy pulls back slightly, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of bashfulness and determination.

"I couldn't hold it in any longer," your captain admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "Seeing you up there in the crow's nest, laughing and talking with Usopp... I realized how much you mean to me. I didn't want to waste any more time pretending that I didn't feel this way."

Your heart swells at his confession, the warmth of his words enveloping you like a comforting embrace.

"I'm glad you didn't," you reply softly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I've been wanting to kiss you for so long."

A grin spreads across Luffy's face, his eyes sparkling with happiness.

"Me too," he admits, leaning in to brush his lips against yours once more.

“So captain,” you whisper sensually into his mouth, running a finger down his scarred chest, “You were jealous?”

Luffy’s breath hitches in his throat at your advancement; the feeling of your fingertip gliding down his body makes his skin tingle with something new. It’s exhilarating, arousing.

“Y-Yes, y/n,” your captain stammers, his voice uncharacteristically shy, “I was so jealous..”

“Mmm,” you hum softly, eyes blown with lust as you gaze up at him, “Why don’t you show me just how jealous you were?”

Luffy's breath catches in his throat at your sultry suggestion, his heart pounding with desire as he meets your gaze, filled with a hunger that mirrors his own.

Without a word, he leans in closer, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that ignites a fire within both of you. His hands roam eagerly over your body, tracing every curve and eliciting soft moans of pleasure from your lips.

His kiss is primal, not practiced; he’s simply acting on instinct, letting human nature take the reigns.

“Oh, Luffy,” you whimper into his mouth, bringing your hands up to tangle your fingers in his mess of dark hair.

As the heat between you intensifies, Luffy's passion burns bright, fueled by the jealousy that had consumed him moments before.

Luffy's hands explore your body with an eagerness that sends shivers down your spine. Each touch, each caress, is fueled by a primal desire to claim you as his own, to show you just how fiercely he wants you.

His movements are hurried and clumsy, he’s clearly out of his element, but you couldn’t care less, you just want his hands on you, regardless of how haphazardly they behave.

His hands roam hungrily over your sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as he pulls you closer.

“Y/n,” the captain rasps into your mouth, “Need you”

You shiver at the rasp of his voice against your lips, the urgency in his touch igniting something fierce within you.

“Then take me, Captain,”

Your words hang in the air, charged with desire and anticipation, as you meet his gaze with unwavering intensity. In that moment, there's no hesitation, no doubt.

With a primal growl of need, he crushes his chapped lips to yours once more, his touch becoming more urgent, more desperate as he pulls you closer.

His calloused hands travel up your torso to grasp your breasts through your shirt, making you let out a whimper at the sensation. He’s rough, not thinking twice as he lets his yearning speak for him; undeniably Luffy.

Lost in the heat of the moment, you give yourself over completely to him, surrendering to the intoxicating pull of his touch and the overwhelming emotions that consume you both.

You let your eyes roll back as Luffy presses you harder into the wall, the grip he has on your breasts never faltering as he haphazardly snakes his tongue into your mouth.

“Mm, L-Luffy-” you whine, letting your captain have his way with you.

“All mine,” he groans into your open mouth, “You’re all mine.”

A playful smirk curves your lips as you pull back just slightly, teasing him with your proximity.

You know your captain can’t ignore a challenge.

“Prove it,” you whisper sensually.

Without a word, he responds with actions rather than words, his hands moving with purpose as he trails kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. His touch is possessive, claiming you as his own with each caress, each tender stroke.

You gasp at the intensity of his touch, your body arching into his as he keeps you pressed firmly against the wall.

An amused chuckle rumbles out of his chest as your body melts to his touch.

He continues down your neck, speaking into your skin in between kisses,

"You like that, don't 'cha?"

His kisses are rough and quick, but they leave your skin goosebump-ridden and undeniably needy, eliciting moans of pleasure from your lips as he trails down to your chest.

"Off, off," the captain whines eagerly, his hands tugging impatiently at the hem of your shirt. His urgency sparks a giggle from you, and you oblige his needy request, slowly peeling the garment from your body, revealing the bare expanse of your skin underneath.

As the fabric falls away, his eyes widen, drinking in the sight before him with unabashed hunger.

With your shirt removed, you feel a rush of exhilaration, basking in the raw desire reflected in Luffy's eyes. You shyly turn your head, blood rushing to your face as his gaze roams hungrily over your exposed skin, his breath growing heavier with each passing moment.

“W-Woah!” he exclaims, astonished, “You look so beautiful!”

Without hesitation, he leans in, his lips trailing a path of fire along your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Your breath hitches at the sensation, your hands instinctively tangling in his hair as you pull him closer.

He’s hot to the touch and his breath is no different, sending a rush of heat down to find its home in your core.

Your legs suddenly feel weak, threatening to give out beneath you at the intensity of the situation; Luffy’s hands exploring your body, his rough lips against your skin. It's magnificent, allconsuming.

“Luffy,” you whimper, desperate for more stimulation.

The strawhat captain chuckles warmly against your skin, pleased at your desperation.

“Ya must really want me, huh?” he teases, sinking to his knees in front of you.

You playfully swat at the top of his head as he assumes his new position.

“Oh shush,” you tease, sucking in your bottom lip between your teeth as you watch Luffy bite at the waistband of your skirt.

As Luffy kneels before you, a mischievous glint dances in his eyes, his fingers deftly working at the waistband of your skirt. With a playful tug, he begins to slide the fabric down your legs, his movements slow and deliberate as he reveals more of your trembling form.

As the fabric finally pools at your feet, you stand before him completely exposed, your skin flushed with arousal and anticipation. Luffy's gaze roams unapologetically over your body, his expression one of pure hunger as he takes in the sight.

To your astonishment, you could just make out the faint hint of drool pooling at the corners of his lips.

Without a word, he leans in closer, his breath hot against your skin as he presses his lips to the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. A soft gasp escapes your lips at the sensation, your fingers tangling in his hair as you urge him closer, desperate for more of his touch.

In this moment, there's no room for hesitation or restraint—only the overwhelming need to lose yourself in the ecstasy of his touch, to surrender completely to his advancements.

As Luffy's lips trail higher along your inner thigh, a shiver of anticipation courses through you, your breath hitching with each tender kiss. His touch is electrifying, sending waves of pleasure cascading through your body and leaving you yearning for more.

“Can’t wait to taste you,” he rasps quietly against your flesh.

You feel a surge of heat pooling in your core, aching to be released, as Luffy's warm breath fans against your skin. With each passing moment, the intensity of the sensation builds, drawing you closer to the edge of ecstasy.

You cling to him desperately, your fingers threading through his hair as you guide him ever closer to the source of your desire.

“P-Please, Captain,” you whine.

And when his lips finally meet your clothed slit, you let out a soft cry of pleasure, the sensation overwhelming in its intensity.

He immediately hooks a finger beneath your panties, unable to resist any longer, he tugs the fabric aside, revealing your soaking cunt.

He lets out a pleased sigh, pupils growing wide with hunger at the heavenly sight.

His tongue meets your slit immediately, not even waiting a second before it starts hungrily slipping up and down your aching sex.

“Mm, L-Luffy!” you stammer, letting out a weak cry of pleasure.

Luffy's ministrations are relentless, each flick of his tongue sending you spiraling further into the depths of pleasure.

He lets out a hearty moan into your cunt as he continues his efforts,

“Damn, you taste so delicious, y/n.”

As Luffy’s tongue continues to trace patterns of pure bliss, you begin to lose your composure, breathing growing heavy as you seem to melt into the wall you’re pressed against.

With a primal growl of ravenousness, Luffy takes your thigh in his hand, his touch both firm and gentle as he raises your leg to rest it upon his strong shoulder. The new position grants him even greater access to his feast, allowing him to delve deeper into your most intimate depths.

“O-Oh, Captain-!” you moan shakily, engrossed with the feeling of his hot tongue meeting new parts of your pussy.

He's messy and uncoordinated, slobbering all over your cunt as he devours it feverishly.

Your breaths come in quick, shallow gasps, chest rising and falling with the rhythm of your arousal. Your cheeks flush with warmth, the heat of your pleasure painting your face in crimson. Your skin feels feverish under Luffy’s tongue, each flick igniting a blaze of euphoria that spreads through your body and leaves you trembling.

His movemenrts are undeniably sloppy, but beneath the messiness, there’s an unmistakable underbelly of desperation, hunger, longing.

With each passing moment, the intensity of the pleasure builds, drawing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy. You cling to him desperately, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you surrender completely to the overwhelming sensation.

“L-Luffy,” you huff weakly, “I-I’m close-”

The rubber man doubles his efforts, flicking his tongue more feverishly now, latching onto your clit and sucking hard at the aching nub.

"Mmm, y/n-"

In an instant, you’re gushing onto his tongue, making him groan heartily as he laps up all of your essence.

You bask in the glow of your pleasure, legs trembling as you struggle to stand, face flushed hot with the intensity of your oirgasm.

Luffy's laughter rings out, a joyful sound that fills the air as he rises from his knees, his eyes sparkling with both pleasure and amusement.

“That was so fun!”

With a playful grin, he leans in, capturing your gasping mouth with his own in a searing kiss.

“Wanna have more fun with ya,” the captain smirks.

His urgency makes you giggle, blush decorating your cheeks. With a playful grin of your own, you nod eagerly, your heart pounding with anticipation.

“I want you so badly, Luffy,” you nip at his neck.

He wastes no time in tugging his pants down as his tongue dances with yours, his cock springing free and hitting against his toned abdomen with a lewd smack.

He chuckles into your mouth at the sensation, amused by his own arousal.

His desisres and primal and raw, and he can’t shake his unwavering desire to be inside you.

In an instant, Luffy lifts you effortlessly into his arms, pressing you against the wall with a new sense of urgency. Your heart races as you feel his powerful muscles flexing beneath you, his warmth enveloping you in a comforting embrace.

“L-Luffy-”

You gasp at the suddenness of his movement, your body tingling with anticipation as he holds you close, his gaze locked with yours in a silent promise of passion. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist.

“W-Wanna be in you,” he rasps into the dip of your neck, his breath hot against your flesh, “Wanna show you you’re all mine.”

As you’re suspended against the wall in his arms, he brings a hand down to grasp his needy cock, moving forwards to begin rubbing it against your weeping slit, the friction making you whimper with need.

As Luffy continues to rub himself against your slick folds, the intensity of the sensation builds; each movement sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, leaving you gasping and whimpering with need.

“Luffy,” you whine, “Please, fuck me-”

Your captain chuckles at your desperation, continuing his efforts as he groans softly into your collarbone.

“You’re so warm,” he sighs shakily, “Gonna squeeze me so tight.”

Your skin tingles with anticipation as you feel him pressing against you, his cock hard and eager against your aching core.

His tip meets your entrance with a precautionary nudge, and he glaces up at you, a wide smile decorating his face.

“You ready for me?” he asks, his voice filled with anticipation and a hint of mischief.

“Yes, Luffy,” you whimper, your voice laden with need, “Please-”

And with that, Luffy presses forward, his cock sliding effortlessly into your slick heat. A gasp escapes your lips as you feel him filling you completely, stretching you in all the right ways.

“O-Oh, captain!” you moan, letting your eyes roll back in your skull as he stuffs you full.

He groans heartily as he buries himself deep inside your tight heat, pressing you harder into the wall as he finally bottoms out.

“Damnit,” he rasps, slurring his words as pleasure consumes him, “S-So tight-never felt this before-”

His admission sends a thrill of satisfaction coursing through you, knowing that you are the one who has ignited this newfound passion within him.

Soon enough, he’s pulling his hips back to thrust into you, completely driven by instinct.

With each thrust, he drives deeper, his movements becoming more urgent and intense. You cling to him desperately, your nails digging into his muscular back as you cry out in pleasure.

His thrusts are feverish and uncoordinated, but the way his tip kisses your cervix has you seeing stars, and you simply can’t get enough.

“Luffy-!" you whine, “F-Fuck-”

As he continues to move inside you, his groans of pleasure fill the air, mingling with your own cries of ecstasy.

You can feel him trembling with pleasure, his body pressed against yours as he loses himself in the intoxicating sensation of being engulfed in you.

"Y/n," he groans, his voice shaky and raspy, the intensity of his desire evident in every word. "Say it," he grits his teeth as he speaks, his movements becoming more urgent with each passing moment. "Say you're mine."

Your head feels fuzzy and your vision is hazy as Luffy continues pounding into you, filling you with only visions of him and his brutal thrusts.

“I-I’m yours, Luffy-!” you whine, your voice becoming hoarse, “I’m all yours-!”

"Good," the rubber man chuckles, a wide, toothy grin tugging at his lips as he revels in your admission, "That's what I want to hear."

He leans forward, his teeth sinking into the soft flesh of your neck as he continues to drive into you with increasing fervor. Each thrust is more forceful than the last, the sensation of his teeth against your skin sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

“F-Fuck, L-Luffy,” you curse shakily, feeling the coil tighten in your lower stomach as you rapidly approach the brink of your impending orgasm.

“Yeah?” he groans, “Are ya close baby? I can feel ya shaking,” he giggles, his skin meeting yours with a lewd smack with each thrust.

Despite the roughness of his actions, there's a tenderness in his touch—a raw, primal need to possess you completely. With each bite, each thrust, he claims you as his own, leaving no doubt in your mind as to where you belong.

“Y-Yes, captain,” you moan unapologetically, “Please d-don’t stop-!”

As he rams into you with reckless abandon, you can feel the tension building within you, the pressure of his desire pushing you closer and closer to the edge. With each passing moment, the fire of your passion burns hotter and hotter, threatening to consume you both in its fiery embrace.

“Fuck, y/n-”

He groans through gritted teeth as he reaches his own peak, trembling as he holds you up. With one final, brutal thrust, he spills his hot cum deep inside you, painting your insides white with his release.

You reach your own climax in tandem with him, the intensity of your orgasm hitting you like a freight train. Your legs shake uncontrollably as they remain wrapped around his waist, the waves of pleasure washing over you with an undeniable force.

“L-Luffy,” you whimper, overwhelmed by pleasure, clinging to him desperately.

You collapse into each other's arms, spent and sated, basking in the glow of your shred ecstasy.

“Mine.” Luffy giggles, rubbing comforting circles into the apple of your cheek as he kisses you gently.

“Yours,” you smile against his lips.

𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.

#one piece x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece headcanons #x reader #luffy x law #monkey d luffy #luffy one piece #one piece luffy #straw hat luffy #luffy #monkey d luffy x you #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy x reader #luffy fanfic

726 notes · View notes

k4g3hika · 2 years

Text

WHO THE HELL?! ━ imagine!

eddie munson x fem! reader

summary: when eddie munson doesn't find the need to tell the dungeons and dragons club members about his new girlfriend. so imagine dustin's surprise when he visits eddie's trailer and sees it looking impeccably clean.

wc: 956

hi guys! forgot to mention i kind of wrote a part 2 to this so: “love, y/n:)”

“Okay, Eddie! I hear you! So it’s just in your living room? On the table beside the sofa? Okay!” Dustin stops his bike beside the Munson trailer, dropping it down onto the dirt as he rushes to the door. “Wait- how the hell am I supposed to get inside?!”

“Did I not give you my keys?”

“No!”

“Damn!”

“Wait! I see someone inside! I’m just gonna knock on the door till they answer. Talk to you later, over and out!” Amidst Eddie’s protests, Dustin turns off the walkie-talkie and strides over to the door. He secretly hopes to himself that it’s not Eddie’s uncle. But shit, who else is going to be in the Munson residence if it wasn’t Eddie or his scary-looking uncle?

He breathes in and out, raising his fist to knock on the door. However, right after his fists land on the door, it falls open as if it wasn’t locked in the first place.

‘Red flag. Red flag.’ Dustin knew better than to go into a complete stranger’s house. But, this was Eddie’s trailer. The worst thing that can happen is that he can stumble on some disgusting shit, or God bless him, his uncle holding a knife to his chest ready to pop off and kill him. ‘God, please guide me.’

As he walked inside, it seemed empty. There was absolutely no sign of life, but something did scare the living shit out of Dustin.

The Munson trailer was clean. Clean as fuck.

Dustin only knew Eddie from the beginning of the school year. But, regardless of the short time, Dustin knew that Eddie hardly took care of himself and would rather focus on anything else other than cleanliness. Shit, he remembers that one time he went inside Eddie’s room and it was laundry day. The stains on that mattress were traumatizing.

After going through a state of shock, Dustin remembered the reason why he was even in Eddie’s trailer. He began his search for the paper his leader needed, but it was far more difficult to find compared to the simplicity Eddie emphasized. Dustin cursed him under his breath, opening up every drawer on every table by the one sofa in the entire living room.

However, Dustin was so focused on his search, that he completely went deaf to the sounds of movement behind him.

“Hey! Who the fuck are you?!” Dustin almost fell back at the sheer terror he just felt surge through his heart. His breaths began to get erratic. Seeing a really, really pretty woman standing with only a shirt and…shorts? Or were they panties? He didn’t know. But it was fucking scary. Or hot? He didn’t know. “Hello?!? You better say who you are before I call the cops!”

“Wait! Wait! Eddie sent me here! He sent me to get something for the campaign! My name is Dustin! Dustin Henderson!” Dustin raised his hands up in defence, not seeing the woman’s shoulders deflate in relief. She chuckles, prompting Dustin to lower his hands. “W-Wha-”

“God, I’m sorry. Did I forget to lock the door again? Shit. I’m gonna get myself killed one day. Anyway, the paper he forgot is actually on the kitchen counter. I put it there figuring out he was gonna come back.” She walks past him.

‘Oh jeeze.’ Dustin tries not to look at them, only looking forward to where the paper was.

“Here you go, sorry about earlier. I just got scared is all. Did he drive you here?”

“No…I biked here.” He blinks twice at you, becoming nervous at your gaze staring him down.

“Oh my god! Really? Do you want some water? What about a cookie? Oh wait! I baked some cookies earlier, I was really bored. Can you bring some to the DnD club, please? Eds loves them…” As you ramble on about cookies and water, Dustin can’t help but gaze at your beautiful features. Your voice was also soothing, and shit, you look like you give the best hugs. “Shit, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Y/N, Eddie’s girlfriend. Nice to finally meet you, Dustin!”

‘Now I know why Eddie hides you.’

–

“Fuck! Look who finally decides to turn up! Henderson, what took you so long?” Eddie walks up to Dustin, eyebrows furrowing in search of the paper he asked him to get. “Did you get the paper-”

“You son of a bitch!”

“Excuse me?”

“I should be saying ‘excuse me’! I get sent, for a paper, and y’know what I find? Hm?” Dustin looks around the room past Eddie, trying to show them validation for his anger. “The most beautiful and shit, best baker, I have ever met in my life!” After his last statement, Dustin shoves the container of cookies at his (now ex) idol’s chest.

Eddie, though initially confused at Dustin’s anger, finally understands why when he sees your signature chocolate chip cookies. You always add M&Ms, saying that they ‘add a pop of colour’ to them. Not that he minded. He loved it.

“I don’t get why you’re angry-”

“Bitch?! You have to show them off! Sell these cookies for God’s sakes! Bring her to meetings! Shit! Do I have to teach you how to be a good boyfriend?!?” Dustin drops his bag, groaning at Eddie’s ‘stupidity’. “Let’s get on with the game!”

Eddie looks at Dustin, then at the container in his hands.

It wasn’t like he was hiding you. Eddie smiles to himself, propping open the lid and eating one cookie.

Eddie just thinks that you’re his little secret. Only he gets to eat your cookies. Dustin just happened to stumble upon them. Never again though.

“Hey, Eddie, can we try some of those cookies-”

“Fuck off Gareth.”

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #joseph quinn #stranger things 4 #netflix #dustin henderson

12K notes · View notes

indouloureux · 2 years

Text

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐂𝐑𝐘𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘

summary: your best-friend’s pretty. really fucking pretty. especially when he’s got his eyeliner smudged all over his eyes from crying too much, or when he’s got scratch marks over his inked skin, or when his begging moans make him hotter than hellfire

warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI. 8k filth, sub!eddie kinda, mommy kink, overstimulation, protected sex, oral (m receiving), degradation kink(slut, whore), dirty talk, dacryphilia, biting, ball sucking (hehe), praise kink, maybe mean!dom reader, rough sex, aftercare??? multiple orgasms lol MINORS GO AWAY (not proofread. rushed)

a/n: idk man, this took a long time to write for some reason but i hope you guys like this because it took a long time okay! and ball sucking. tumblr got me horny for eddie munson's ballsack so i put it in here. enjoy. also thank u for 4k mwah mwah i love u all!

— proofread by my mi amor jess <3 (@cordiformity)

MASTERLIST

The sound of the car turning on makes the both of you raise your hands in a farewell, Wayne Munson’s silhouette inside the tinted window waves back at you and Eddie, pulling out of the driveway, wheels scraping on the gravel road outside of your home.

“Bye, Uncle Wayne!” you yell, hands cupping your mouth for a better volume. Eddie waves still, arm stretched out in the hot air, rings clinking and glinting in the hot sun as he hovers you. “I’ll miss you! You’re the better Munson!”

“Asshole,” Eddie jabs your ribs. You poke your tongue at him, turning around to go back inside your home, a hand hovering behind you as he leads you through the door before he follows and shuts it behind him. “You invite me over and you’re saying I’m the worse Munson?”

“I’m basing off the truth, dungeon master,” you bump your hips with his, leading him to the stairs. His dirty sneakers thump on the creaking stairwell, hand dragging up the rail as you look back at him. “Who’s got the working car? Who’s got better morale?”

You sigh in contentment, feeling the cold air blow the sweat off your bodies in a strong surge. Eddie wipes the sticking hair off his forehead, eyes lazily watching you sit in front of him on the broken chair, legs spread.

“Alright, Eds.” You offer your hand, rings shown that matched his – the same skull on your ring finger, a snake coiled around the middle, and a daintier one connected to your bracelet through a chain. He vaguely remembers being with you when you bought it, having to be too distracted with something else he also can’t remember. “Whip it out and let’s suck.”

Almost fooled by your racy insinuation, Eddie lifts his ass up and searches for the ziplock in his pocket, tongue massaging his upper teeth as he pulls the plastic out and shows you what you’re asking for. “You’re still paying for that.”

You scoff, snatching it from him before you pull out a crumpled twenty from your pocket. “You know I always do.”

“You always do?” he sits up, forearms behind him. Eddie’s curls loose the sticky perspiration, now flowing behind him when he shakes his head at you. You slap the bill on his palm. “(y/n), you owe me like, fifty bucks. Minus ten because you beat that sicko from the band auditions.”

“It was supposed to be a gift,” you whine, throwing your head back. “I thought we were friends, Eddie?”

“We are,” he kicks his shoes off, and he half thinks he might have already lost them in the pile of clothes. “But I need money, too. No money, and we spend the rest of our life being driven back and forth by my uncle. And you know he hates it when we smoke.”

“Which is why I keep on telling you to convince him to smoke weed,” you open your drawer. “That way you can at least emancipate the stress you give him,” you jest, searching beneath used notebooks until you spot a crutch. “I- fuck I kind of forgot how to roll a joint. Can you do it?”

Eddie sniffs, side of his finger rubbing his nostrils. “You’re gonna do it now? That’s like, a half ounce. You finish it way faster than I do,” he sits up. “Just smoke a cig with me instead.”

Your hands drop to your sides, giving him a dismayed look before you’re opening the drawer once more and tossing the ziplock and clutch back inside, making sure it’s hidden beneath a notebook.

“I’d rather not,” you slump your head on the table. “I wanna get high. That’s why I invited you here in the first place.”

Eddie huffs. “That’s the third time you’ve hurt me, (y/n).”

He sits up, the veins on his forearm catching your attention. Tendrils bulging against the tattoo on his skin, blood pumping in the same beat your heart does as you stare at them with a watering mouth before they drive down to his clenching hands that reach for the boombox, toying with the antennas before Eddie looks at you.

“You still got the tapes? Or you sold them just to pay me?” he snickers, kicking your foot. You sneer at him, kicking him much harder that simulates a groan from him. “Please tell me you have at least Judas Priest in there. I’ve had enough listening to a-ha. I have the lyrics stuck in my head that I forgot the chords to Master Of Muppets.” You glare at him. “You know? Take on meeee…?”

“Yeah. I know what that song is,” While eyes impishly glare at him, you reach for the bag beneath your desk, black almost gray from the specks of dust surrounding it. Eddie watches your hand dig into the filthy bag, looking as if you’re carding through a literal trash can before you pull out three mixtapes that he gave you a couple months ago, Kate Bush and Foreigner falling to the ground as you pull them up.

“Blizzard of Ozz,” you smack the cassette in Eddie’s open palm, a stinging clap echoing around the corners of your small bedroom. “For the one and only Osbourne wannabe.”

“Kate Bush, huh?” Eddie opens the cassette player, shoving the tape carelessly inside. “Red tell ya to listen to it?” he asks, slamming the cassette holder shut and turns the volume louder, like you hadn’t received complaints from the loud ‘satanic’ music; you don’t care, anyway, it’s music nonetheless. Your friend spins in a riveting twirl, hair spinning cavalierly into the air-conditioned wind, before he stops to face you with a thespian look, mouthing the lyrics.

You yell over the music. “Max says she could change the world!”

Eddie snorts. “People look at me and say ‘is the end near, when is the final day?’” He takes a brush from your cup holder, holding it like a microphone. You guffaw at him, watching as a hand comes down to his chest before he runs around your room, stepping on the discarded clothes and crumpled papers on the ground. “What’s the future of mankind? How do I know, I got left behind.”

“Hey!” you shout at him through the zeitgestical piece of joint electrical guitars and drums, his feet taking him to your mattress sunken, exhorting him to jump up and down like a giddy child. “Get down!”

“Come on, bats,” his hand’s still up as an offer. “Ozzy wannabe wants to make the most metal concert ever inside your garbage bedroom.” Eddie air guitars like a loser, fingers mimicking the same chords of the song and imitating riffs as if he was in a metal concert. “Don’t just sit in the crowd. Be a part of the show.”

“Do you often say that to five drunks?” you quip. “I’d rather stay here than break my neck, Eddie.”

“Fine,” he jumps off, landing right on his feet where you see his left one bending the slightest at the hard impact. His inept body refuses him to sit still, and is now telling him to touch the items on your desk as you sit and watch him poke and prod like he’s shopping. “Let’s do something else that doesn’t make you so boring.”

“I’m not boring!” you exclaim, gawping at him. “I’m fun! Sorry for making sure you don’t die in my bedroom. Because if you did, I’d leave you here to rot with the rest of my clothes. Then I’ll steal your car and drive away to California.”

“You just worry too much,” Eddie pulls on your hand, indolently limp in his touch. “Sing with me, bats. Ozzy Osbourne awaits.” when you shake your head, he sighs disappointedly; almost in a way that’s so dramatic that you think he’s not actually sad about your refusal. “Alright. Then, let’s do something that you think is fun other than using me for getting high.”

You pout at him, now clasping at his forearm for forgiveness. “Aw. Eds, I don’t use you. You’re my best friend.”

Best friend.

Two words that compress his chest so tight he feels the pain ricocheting in his inked limbs. Eddie plasters this pain he doesn’t know why he feels when you call him your best friend by a short laugh, biting his bottom lip. “Yeah yeah. Think of something before I go find somewhere else fun.”

“Don’t you just wanna lay down beside me while we listen to Ozzy Osbourne? You used to do that!”

“Bats,” he bends, face leveled with yours as his lips disappear into his mouth, forming a straight line. “I’m extremely bored without my van. I need to do something before I lose my mind entirely. I mean, you wouldn’t like seeing me—” his fingers join together, both hands placing them on either side of his head before he mimics the sound of an explosion, fingers splaying apart. “—all bloody and open headed, right? I could just drop my blood down to your carpet. Or, well, what used to be a carpet.”

You kick a few items away to show your dark cerulean carpet. Eddie’s upper lip curls up in slight disgust. “The color’s always…like that.” you wave it off. “I clean it like, once a year? I dunno. I’ll clean up my shit after you leave.”

“You should,” he scratches the back of his neck. “Now find something interesting to do.”

“Fine,” you grunt. “I have something in mind. But if you don’t want to do it, then it’s your loss.”

In the last seven years of your friendship, not once have you imagined sitting on Eddie Munson’s lap.

Sure. Maybe you’ve hugged. But it’s just a hug. All friends do that. Friends snuggle when they’re stoned, they kiss each other’s cheeks as a rushed farewell. Maybe talking about masturbation was another thing but it was normal. You’ve seen each other half-naked — he helped you pick your bra before a date, and you got him a decent pair of underwear before girls would blow him. It’s a normal best friend thing.

Sitting on each other’s lap? It’s become romanticized in cheesy rom coms. And you see its point. With the minimal space between your bodies, crotches almost on top of each other, and the air so thick with unearthed tension that you’re wary and nervous at every move you do.

The liquid kohl paints his pale skin, a flawed darkness that mends conveniently into his eccentric vogue that he possesses valiantly with pride. Eddie’s eyes bore into you, scanning each pore, or the light hair above your top lip. Mostly into your eyes that don’t directly look into his — the way your pupils dilate and shrink every so often; and sometimes he’d cheekily glance down your lips, where the tip of your tongue would poke out, which gallops his blood all over his body into an intense heat. And fuck, how long is this going to take?

His hands grasp your waist tightly, keeping you in place. Your thigh on his, drawing around his vast eyes that perceive. Ozzy Osbourne sings from the mixtape Eddie changed—your mixtape that he made for you, a mechanized voice bringing you into the stage instead of the crowd — makes you feel like you’re in a show playing house with your best friend. It makes Eddie squirm gently in his seat, almost letting you muck up what you’ve done.

“Sit still,” your hand grips his cheeks, harshly forcing him into looking at you and keeping his face pliant beneath your touch, making his lips pucker a little. “You’re gonna make me mess up.”

“Sorry,” he chuckles. “It kinda tickles.”

“The brush?”

“Yeah,” his nails scratch your back slightly. “It’s like a feather touching my eyes or something. How long is this going to take?”

Eddie sees your eyebrows furrow in slight frustration at his impatience, your hand shaking in the slightest. “Almost done, Munson.” you mutter, lips parting the slightest that shows just a sliver of your pearls.

The situation is familiar, albeit it’s not him that you’re sitting on. Eddie’s mind varies through a manifold of haunting memories, until it settles on the one that bestows him a roll of undefined covetousness. It makes him grip your waist tighter as the memory of you sitting on another boy’s lap fills his mind, in this exact activity. Eddie feels this confusing jealousy run through him when he remembers you kissing that boy with his eyeliner all smudged up.

You sense his sudden rigidness, the hitching on his breath. “What’s wrong?” you murmur, brush stopping on the outer corner of his eye.

“Nothing,” he widens his eyes a bit. “Just…remembered something.”

“What is it?”

He watches you move again, feeling the cold brush on the crinkles beside his eyes, curving upward. “When- when you and Harrison Mcline were in the back of the classroom making out,” he laughs gently. “You were putting eyeliner on him too for the school play. He looked a lot like David Bowie with it, though. But I bet I look way cooler than him.”

Scoffing, you shake your head. “Harrison Mcline is a douchebag,” you claim, nail digging deep into his cheek he thinks he’ll see a crescent indent on his flesh. Eddie looks into your eyes, full of annoyance at the sudden memory, before it shifts into embarrassment. “He’s an arrogant dickhead who trusts his pulling out ‘skills’ and kept insisting he was allergic to condoms just so he could fuck me raw. And also, you do look better.”

Heat waves through his cheeks and ears as Eddie laughs out of sympathy, but mostly to make fun of your unfortunate encounter. “Told you you shouldn't have gone for him. You’re planning on fucking Mcline? Cheer squad says he’s got a dick the size of an eraser.”

“Well, it’s not like I have any options, do we?” you snicker, brushing his eyelashes with the side of your finger before you’re back to painting the inner corner of his eye, tainting his opal skin black. “What goody-two-shoes of a man would want to fuck a girl who’s part of the ‘satanic panic’?” you wave your hand to gesture to yourself. “And I did not know that.”

“Jason Carver’s been eyein’ you lately,” he teases, eyebrows wiggling the slightest. “As well as Steve Harrington when we’d rent a shitty movie. Even Gareth!”

“Jason Carver is with Chrissy Cunningham, and he keeps on insisting that this whole metal thing is just a phase. Steve Harrington only eyes me because I’m with you. And I’m older than Gareth! It’s disgusting, he’s like my little brother.” you tilt your head at him, Eddie wincing at your thoughts about your friend. “This pious town doesn’t fuck with, and I quote, cult members. I can't even find a decent one out there.”

In a drunken momentum, his eyes trace the v-shaped column of your neck that connects to your collarbone, prominent as his irises desecrate the components of every imperfection on your skin, minus the tattoos — the unorthodox stygian tattoos so unsaint, skulls and horns sinking deep into your flesh you might as well be the Devil’s little wayward angel. The hand behind you traces the waistline of your jeans, feeling your skin that’s exposed when your shirt has risen up from your back being slouched to hover over his head.

Eddie kicks a shirt out of his way — a cut tank top with the painted devil from the Hellfire Shirt to appear more punk (one he remembers you wore when you snuck into the community pool, jumping into the chlorine water with nothing but that shirt and a pair of denim shorts, gave him a goddamn boner when your bare tits poked out). “There’s some decent guys out there.”

He wants to say ‘me’, however not in an amorous way. Simply the mind that hasn't seen any cunt for the past month, and he’s desperate to the point he’d literally fuck his best friend. But maybe hidden beneath that word could mean something deeper, something he’s chosen to deny and decides to forget about. Eddie knows it’s wrong; to imagine you, his dear friend for ozzy knows how long, all bent and spread for him to fuck because he’s horny. But who wouldn't?

“Easy for you to say,” you scoff. “You almost fucked that mom from the community pool back summer. And that junkie who blew you when she came to your show and thought a blowjob was enough of a payment for weed.” He feels the rough pad of your thumb rub a spot beside his eye, stinging slightly.

“She gives really good head,” he nods slightly. “ ‘m just saying, sweetheart. You just need to look hard.”

“Oh yeah?” you take your eyeliner away from his eyes, snapping the cap back in place before your hands rest on his shoulders. “Like you? Because I think that your little friend—”

Your finger drags down his chest, movement sedated and teasing, nail scraping on the printed typography before they press deep into the thick flesh of his torso, trailing down like you’re exploring uncharted territories. They come across his thighs, hard and thick, short nails scratching the denim before you tease and sink deeper, feeling up the sudden rock in his pants that presses right onto your crotch.

Eddie blames you for the hard on in, had you not been subtly grinding on it for the past minute or so when you were applying eyeliner, acting nonchalantly when he felt so constrained in his tight jeans. His bottom lip feels so raw from all the biting he’s done just to not moan out loud. And it feels sick — perverted — to have a boner when your best friend sits on your lap.

“—kind of agrees with me,” you trace his bulge, unevenly round and thick, your hand wanting to squeeze but you spare him the insanity. “He’s been poking out ever since I sat on your lap. I think he wants you to say that you need some help.”

“And I think I’m the only one who can know what my dick says,” he sneers, his hand coming out from behind you to grasp your forearm and run his thumb on the inked bats on your skin. “And he says he’s perfectly fine staying inside until he gets home and feels the love of my hand.”

You tut, pouting as you brush the hair out of his face and tuck it behind his ears, bangs unruly on his forehead that it almost pokes his pretty eyes. “Shame,” you pop the eyeliner back on your cup, chastely placing your hands on his shoulders instead. “Would have been happy to help.”

His saliva sticks to the walls of his throat, blocking the next words from coming out because holy fucking shit, you’re flirting with him. Or he thinks you’re flirting with him. Because friends don’t flirt, right? Best friends, as you so proudly say to others. Best friends don’t flirt, or offer to get rid of someone’s fucking boner; he shouldn’t feel this proverbial hunger towards you, like the words that had rolled off your tongue was a drop of water that rolls down his throat, still leaving him thirsty.

“Tsk,” he chuckles dryly, palms running up and down your bare thighs. You expected him to say something else, but it seemed like he’s at a loss for words whenever you graze his bulge when you adjust your seat to remove the numbness of your calf. You feel like the senile chair would snap it legs and drop you into this void of just him and you, left alone to be stubborn and in denial.

“I could, though,” you murmur, fingers grazing his slightly coarse hair. “I can h-help you. With your problem. I don’t mind.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie sighs heavily, his hot breath fanning your face. “I don’t want you to feel like you’re forced to just because I got a boner while you’re on top of me.”

“It’s not that,” you grip his shoulders tightly, trying to stop yourself from grinding again. Because god, fuck, if you had a dick of your own, you’d be as hard as him. “It’s just a friendly offer. Both of us hadn’t had fuck since last month and, well, we’re here now, are we? Might as well just…get on with it.”

It’s atrociously fun, your offer. Because even though you’d agree to forget about it in the end, both of you would certainly not forget about it. Eddie knows nothing would be the same if he agreed, if he acted like he’s wanted to fuck you for ages. You’d know with the way he’d act, with the way he speaks, that he’s always yearned for it, and he’s afraid it would cause a strain to your friendship. But fuck—you’re offering it yourself; and he’d cut his own dick off if he ever denied the chance.

Giving in into having sex with you just because he hasn’t had a decent fuck in a while? Was it selfish, maybe, even if he knows it’s going to change everything. But hey, the chance is right in front of him.

Eddie’s silence deludes you into thinking that he might have been disgusted by your offer. You don’t see the way his pupils widen and shrink ever so often, and it makes you remove your hands from his shoulders and sigh. “You know what? Forget about it. I don’t even know why I said that,”

“Hey,” he reaches out to clasp your wrist when you stand up to leave. Your right leg’s on the ground, the other still bent beside his thigh. Eddie looks up at you with unsure eyes, thumb running along your pulse point. “I was…going to say why not.”

Your lips part. “Really?”

“Yeah,” his eyebrows furrow and his nose wrinkles as he says it, urging you to sit back on his lap by the gentle pull on your hand. “I mean, you know, it’s just a one time thing, right? We can- we can act like it never happened after. Unless, you don’t want to.”

You don’t know if he’s saying all of that to spare your feelings, or if he wants the same thing you do—being fuck buddies, and whatnot, until you’d both come to terms that you actually like each other. But maybe that’s just your fantasy that he felt the same way you did, and that Eddie’s only saying yes because he’s just as deprived as you are.

“We don’t have to think about that now,” you sit gently on his thighs. The hand that he doesn’t hold tugs on the thread hanging on the bottom of your shirt, fingers twirling and pulling slightly. “We can just have sex. Then, let’s think about it after. That way we can see if- we can continue it or…not.”

Eddie’s looking directly into your eyes, right where you can see the specks of concupiscent dust glaze his brown eyes. And somehow, your faces are so close yet so far, with the way you feel the very tips of his eyelashes graze your cheeks ever so softly when he blinks.

“Great idea,” he says. And his hand hovers like he debates on cupping your face or holding your waist again.

“You can hold me,” you take his hands, placing them on your waist. “I’m not gonna bite,”

“Oh, I know you won’t,” he chuckles, sighing deeply when you bite your lip. “‘Y too soft to bite.”

You pull away, though still your faces are still close. Eddie’s bemused by the incredulity on your face, the way your parted lips etch into a feigned offended smile. “I’m too soft to bite?” you repeat, nails scraping on his exposed arms before you suddenly tangle your hand in his hair and pull harshly; lo and behold, he whimpers. “Aw, look at that. He made a sound.”

“That’s because it hurt,” he snaps, chest heaving against yours. “How would you react when I pull on your hair?”

“The same thing,” your other hand pushes his hair behind his ear, pouting at him. “I would have moaned like you did,”

Eddie’s nostrils flare, eyes darkening. “Fuck you.”

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, you tug on his hair again and fuck, he whimpers. “No, I fuck you.” Your nails scrape his scalp, Eddie digging his own at your skin. “What, you think just because I offered I’d let you use me? That’s not how it works, sweetie.”

You pull back, your hand still in his hair before you lean in to kiss him hard on his chapped lips.

It’s sultry, in that exchange of hot breaths between open mouths and teeth clashing. Eddie grunts against you when you coincide with your hip rolling each time your lips close around his. Judas Priest replaces Ozzy Osbourne’s yelling rasps, Love Bites deep thrumming like the chime of a bell cascades the ambience of the moment. You’re bold when your tongue slips past his lips to tackle his, sinking deeper that your nose bends on his cheek.

It’s new and it’s scary to kiss your best friend with the crisp trepidation of the future of your friendship. Because yeah, a simple kiss can change everything. It’s not chaste, it’s not for comfort, it’s not by accident; you’d both agreed to it, and it's unbeknownst to the both of you what the kiss truly meant to either of you. It’s driving you insane.

Your mind buzzes in delirium as you feel his shirt, wrinkles and damp from the sweat. He’s humming and he’s grunting with the wet clicks of your rapacious lips. And Eddie’s had enough, his hands coming down to grip the back of your thighs tightly, standing up from the chair and wrapping your legs around his waist. You fall heavily with him, your back landing on your crumpled sheets, his crotch immediately grinding against yours like a payback.

You moan, tugging on the hair on the nape of his neck. “Fuck,”

“What’s that, bats?” he taunts. “You fuck me? Say it again, sweetheart,” he rolls his hips deeper, bulge pressing right on you. “Say it. That you’ll fuck me. If you can, I’ll let you. If you don’t,” Eddie bites gently at your bottom lip, letting it go and watches as it pops right back. “Guess I'll have to be in control.”

Unpleased by his teasing, you push on his shoulders. Eddie falls back, body pinned to the mattress when you straddle his stomach, your hands gripping his wrists. “I fuck you,” you repeat, jaw clenching. “I’m in charge, you hear me?”

You don’t wait for his answer, because your hands are bringing themselves down to tug on his collar, pulling them apart until the weak shirt rips in half. Eddie’s eyes widen at the rip, lifting his head to press his chin on his neck as he looks at your damage. He laughs. “You’re lucky that wasn’t my favorite shirt,”

“I can get you a new one,” you say quickly, placing your palms beneath his chest to admire the tattoos on his fair skin. You lean back down to kiss him on his lips, gently this time, before you drag your lips down to his red cheeks, to his jawline where the faintest of a stubble begins to grow. Eddie exhales, the faint touch of your finger enough to send heat all over his chest. The Demon stares directly at you when you scrape your nails on the black art, punishing and guiding. “This still creeps me out, by the way,”

Eddie looks at the tattoo, frowning. “It’s still cool,”

His eyeliner smudges a little, making his eyes almost caliginous in his own wanton abyss. You press your lips right on the tattoo, coming down to teasingly nip at his nipple before your hands cup his pecs. And you grind on him again, your ass on his crotch and your covered cunt on the flat of his stomach as you let your hand drive up to splay across his chest.

“Christ, (y/n),” he groans impatiently. “Stop fucking dry humping me.”

“Yeah, well, what is it, Eddie?” you cock your head at him. “Who are you telling that to, hm? Christ or me?”

He sits up, hips jutting to yours that elicits a hushed moan from you. Eddie’s hands prop him up from behind, leaning up to kiss you feverishly again. “You,” he answers, shaking his head at you. “But I think (y/n)’s too formal. ‘Bats’ is too sentimental. I like to…spice things up. There’s a reason why I never call you by your name during DnD, sweets,” he lets one hand go, taking your cheek into his palm. “Whatcha say? Let’s try something new other than bats. Like…like mommy.”

Your rutting slows down a bit, uneven by surprise. You turn your head to him, and he almost comes undone with the way your eyes almost blacken by the dilation of your pupils—the way little glints of arousal light your eyes. Eddie bites his lip when the hand beneath his collarbone nears his neck until you're digging your fingers on either side of his neck.

“Mommy, huh?” you deride. “I like the sound of that,” you bounce lightly, and you smile when he moans lowly. “You gonna let mommy do whatever she wants? Because I think it was fucking filthy of you to get a boner when I was on your lap,” Eddie lays back down, his hands gripping your ass. “And mommy wants to punish you for a bit, is that alright?”

He nods. “Y-yes.”

You crawl down slowly. “Yes what?”

Eddie whines softly, his palm resting on the thin layer of sweat forming on his forehead. “Yes mommy.” he grunts. “Still gonna call you bats, though. Feels uncanny,”

“Commit to it,” you unbuckle his jeans, handcuffs clicking as you do so. “Don’t be shy and naughty, Eddie. You wanted it.”

He lifts up, helping you tug his jeans down. Eddie could care less if you lose his jeans in the pile of clothes on the ground, because you’re beneath him. You’re not exactly kneeling—a sight he’d kill for—but seeing your face hovering over his cock hidden by his briefs was enough to make his mouth water and suppress a loud moan. Eddie breathes heavily when you press a kiss on top of his bulge, looking so cherubic and innocent it’s driving him insane.

Now you are mine, In my control. One taste of your life, and I own your soul

You sing it against him, exhaling at each worth that your hot breath makes him jolt. Eddie whines, looking down at you to see that you’re hooking your fingers on the band of his briefs, tugging them down until his feet slip past the holes and you’re throwing it aside.

Amused by the sight of your tongue licking your lips at the sight of his hard cock slapping against his happy trail, a glob of precum leaking down to land on the coarse hair above his dick. Eddie’s hand comes down to brush your hair out of your face. “‘S not fair that I’m naked and you’re still clothed.”

“Patience,” you scoff, leaning back to shed your shirt. You shiver when your bare tits feel the air conditioned air nip at your exposed nipples, but you smirk when Eddie gawps at the sight of you being bare chested and kneeling at the end of your bed right in front of his cock.

Not once did he imagine the sound of a zipper going down could excite him this much, but fuck, your removing your shorts and tossing it at him. Eddie catches it, shamelessly bunching it up in his fist and digging his nose into the crutch point, where he whiffs at the faint scent of your arousal.

“I can imagine just how wet you are,” he throws it aside. “I can fucking smell it on your shorts.”

You’re standing up, right where the exploration of his eyes land on the black lace that covers you, shows well your bumps and the askew imperfections on your thighs. Its floral folderol craves him for the exposure, and it has him tracing the other integrants of you—the matching bat tattoos on your forearm that you’ve both gotten when you turned 18, your Cockatrice dragon to his Wyvern on your other arm; your own demon on your waistline inspired by Gene Simmons, the coiling snake beneath your right breast, and a bell right between your collarbones. It makes Eddie sit up.

“That’s new,” he points to the black bell. “When’d you get that?”

“Last week,” you drag your finger across it. “Metallica’s growing on me.”

For Whom The Bell Tolls. That’s hot.

Eddie bites his lip when you sway your hips side to side as you leisurely get rid of your black lace, your head lifting to gaze coquettishly at him. “Wanna know how wet mommy got, Eddie?” you hum. He nods his head, muttering a low fuck yeah, his lips all swollen from the lip biting that he eases the pain by licking his lips.

His cock throbs at the bare sight of your cunt, not fully exposed but he sees the small triangular bush on top. Eddie stops himself from touching his length right there and then as the lace slips past your knees and soon your feet, tossing it at his face that he clumsily catches. You gasp when he sniffs every inch of it, licking the crotch with the flat of his tongue before he’s flinging it somewhere in a corner.

“Smell good, bats,” Eddie growls. “Fucking delectable.”

You come back to kneel at the end of the bed, right between his legs before you're laying on your stomach. Eddie watches with a parted mouth as you trail kisses up his thigh. And you waste no time to spit on your hand and wrap your hand around his shaft, pumping him in an adagio manner. He lets out a moanish sigh, taking two pillows to rest his head all while he watches you tease him.

“Think you deserve my mouth?” you drawl, biting gently at the fat of his thigh. “Tell me, Eddie. Do you deserve mommy’s cock? After being so naughty? I wonder what other girls would think of you having a boner when you sit on their lap. ‘S like you’re a poor little virgin.”

Your thumb traces the slit of the bulging mushroom head, and it’s taking all of his strength not to thrust up. Your touch is burning, only on his cock but felt tactile like the blaze spreads through his veins like a wildfire. Eddie whines. “Please,” he begs. “I’ve been good, mommy. Jus’ couldn’t help it. You looked hot.” you look up at him. “So fucking sexy sitting on my lap, bats.”

Giggling, you shake your head and press a short kiss on his tip. “You’re lucky flattery works with me.”

A loud moan, louder than Rob Haldford, leaves Eddie’s valiant mouth when you sink your head down his cock, your throat opening to welcome his tip that gags you, your nose grazing the bush of curls. It was a sudden suck, the way your cheeks enclose greedily around his length that makes his legs shake. His fists curl your sheets as you begin to bob your head.

You slap his hand away when it comes down to the back of your head, pulling out and squeezing his shaft. “Keep your hands to yourself, slut. And stay still. If you so much as thrust up my face without my permission, I’m leaving you here all wet with your balls blue.”

He definitely almost came. “Fuck. I’m sorry, m-mommy.”

When you take him into your mouth again with glaring eyes, Eddie thinks of the other girls—a wrong moment to do so, but he remembers how incompetend they were at making him feel so good by the simple touch on his dick. They didn’t send shivers up his spine, they didn’t bear the same dominancy you did; didn’t make him submit indigently the way you made him to. He’s never felt this good in a long time, and it’s just your fucking mouth around him.

“Your cock’s so big, Eddie,” you press your palm on the vein beneath his shaft, kitten licking his tip. “Taste so fucking good, too.” like the way I imagined, you almost say. But you don’t want him to know that; it’s embarrassing to make him think that you’d hump a pillow and imagine fucking his face.

“Feels s-sooo fucking good—shit…bats,” he pants. You close your lips around his helmet, hand on his shaft pumping him as you bob your head around his tip but never fully taking him into your mouth. The feeling was still unexplainably stupefying, your tongue pressing flat on the throbbing flesh of his tip, hands fast and gyrating around his slick shaft that he hears wet sounds against your palm and his sensitive skin.

His grunts and loud moaning sends a hot pool between your legs that it’s starting to drip down your legs to the bed, sticky and sweet and painful from the lack of touch. You take your vacant hand down between your body and the bed, fingers reaching blindly for your clit. And when you rub the swollen nub, you moan against his head that sends vibrations.

“Shit!” his ass clenches, stopping himself from bucking up. Eddie looks down to see your arm wedged uncomfortably beneath you, and he feels his orgasm build up to the edge of the wall when your eyes close as you rub your clit and suck on his cock. “Are you- touching yourself?”

You hum around him, head bobbing in rhythm to the music. You pull away from his cock, to kiss your way down to his heavy balls. Eddie mewls, whining when you rub your clit faster as you lick his balls. Everything feels overwhelmingly good when you suck on his balls, tongue lifting his heavy sack and enclosing your lips around the dark flesh. Eddie’s eyes roll to the back of his head, throwing his head down to his pillow and covering his eyes with his forearm.

He feels the eyeliner transfer to his sweaty skin, his sweat taking the liquid kohl and dripping down his temple. But it might have been the tears that threaten to spill past his eyes that sets the makeup off down his face, because your sloppy sucking and quick pumping, it felt so good it renders him an almost sobbing mess beneath you.

“Mommy,” he heaves. “I’m close,”

“Hold it in, then,” you order. “I’m not done. You can touch my hair now, by the way.”

You capture his sack with the most pure look you could muster, as if what you're doing isn’t so fucking unholy. Like you’re at the gates of heaven proving your innocence. Your hands leave him and yourself to push on the back his thighs, letting his feet plant on the mattress, pushing them wide apart to give yourself better access. Eddie moans, almost a scream ripping out his throat and it’s when the tears slowly start, your hand coming back to pump his wet cock loudly, your muffled moaning like music that comes with the squelching of his cock.

“Such a pretty dick,” you tease. “So pretty and good. Wonder what it would feel like to have you inside me. I’m gonna fucking milk you dry until you’re crying and in pain.”

Eddie pats your head, running his fingers through the tangled mess as you look up at him, eyelashes wet and curled, mouth full of his balls that you suck greedily. His missing orgasm is painful, and he finds himself begging embarrassingly. “Bats, can I cum, please? I’ve been good. Fuck—I’ve been such a good boy for you. Please let me cum.”

Your laugh is sardonic and mean, pressing a kiss to his heavy sack before you’re licking up from his balls to his shaft and tip. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Vampishly, you sink your head down his cock again, gagging around him that a string of saliva drips down your neck and the valley of your breast. Eddie mewls, and with a couple more closed cheeks, head bobbing and sucking and licking, he’s shooting his seed at the back of your throat. His warm delicacy coating the walls of your throat.

You don’t stop until he’s milked, sinking your head deeper and deeper until his cum starts to drip out your mouth. Once you’re done, you let him go with a pop. Your finger scooping up his cum and pushing it back into your mouth.

“Mother of Ozzy,” he whispers, watching you suck on your fingers, his legs dropping down. “S-shit. Come here, bats.”

You come back to sit on his lap, his dick still hard but bends down when you grind your cunt against him. Eddie’s (and your) moans are muffled when you kiss him, taking his face in your hands as you kiss him with fervor, slowly grinding on his shaft like you did earlier. Eddie wraps his hands around your back, keeping your chest flushed against his as his tongue evades your mouth.

“You taste like my cum,” he murmurs.

“Tastes good,” you giggle. “Aw, your eyeliner. I worked hard on that.”

Eddie pouts. “You give the best fucking head, bats. Couldn’t help it.”

Tracing his jawline with your finger, you smile at his praise. “Think you can handle one more? Or you just want to lay back and watch me touch myself?”

Eddie chuckles, shaking his head. His answer dies in his mouth when he looks up at you—and Ozzy, you’re fucking beautiful. With your lips plump, eyes glazed in mutual titillation. Like you’re not just fucking, like you didn’t just suck him off just to replenish your venereal hunger. But he doesn’t know what it is, and so do you (though only because you try to ignore the real reason you can’t fathom).

“Me? I can handle more. Fuck me in the ass if you want, bats,” he presses a quick kiss. “You got any condoms?”

With a hand on his shoulder, Eddie keeps you in place as you lean across the bedside table and clumsily open the drawer. You pull out a pack, splayed out in the wooden cabinet from its box, holding it between your middle and index finger as you wiggle your eyebrows at him. “I got twenty more.”

“Easy there, mama,” his voice is low and almost growling as he looks at your lips. The mixtape whirls as you rip the package open with your teeth. Seek and Destroy by Metallica starts playing, your fingers taking the condom from the foil and placing it on your mouth, lips around the plastic ring before you bend down to wrap the condom around his cock. “Fuck.Where’d you learn that?”

You take him fully in your mouth again, cheekily sucking before you pull out and push your hair out of your face. “Steve Harrington. Junior Year,” Eddie gawps. “Right after Nancy Wheeler dumped him.”

“Holy shit,” despite the panging jealousy, he laughs in shock. “You’re something else, baby.”

Baby.

Heat brushes your cheeks, makes you laugh shyly as you take his sensitive cock in your hand. “Lay back down.”

Eddie complies with the help of your hand pushing his back to the bed. You kneel, hand grabbing his cock and straightening it until his tip’s prodding your entrance. You keenly breathe in when you sink, his thick girth splitting your wet pussy open. He lets out a moan that’s almost painful, greedy hands coming to palm your waist to help you sink.

“Shiiiiiiit,” you gasp. “God, you feel fucking amazing, Eds. So fucking big.”

“That’s it mommy. God, so tight,” Eddie’s eyes drip heavily. “You like my dick?”

His neck stretches when you choke him, his head falling back. “Fucking love your fat cock,” you mewl, throwing your head back. Eddie removes his hands from your waist to palm at your tits, feeling his mushroom bulge in your stomach once you’ve fully sat.

Barely a minute after he’s fully in, you begin moving. The wet sound of your pussy dragging up from his length makes you even wetter, dripping down his navel, his happy trail all sticky. Your hand leaves his neck to scratch on his chest, watching as slanted, red marks paint his skin and his tattoos before you drop down.

Eddie moans, his feet planting up the bed once more to rest your curved back. “You look so pretty,” he pants. “Riding my cock. Touched myself every night to the thought of this. And I know it’s wrong, bats, but I couldn’t fucking help it. I’d—I’d bend a pillow and fuck it, thinking it was your pussy. And all along I thought you’d let me have my way with you. But I was so wrong.”

You grind and bounce at an adequate pace, your walls clenching around him, your ass slapping against the skin of his thighs everytime you come back down. Eddie relishes in the blissful haze hailed upon you, your eyebrows scrunched and raised, jaw slack as you let out mewls with the same volume as his. Almost to the point that the loud music can’t even drown out your euphoric cries.

The tears began forming from the stinging overstimulation, his cock twitching immediately and he feels so raw. His vigor shredded and he submits himself to you, laying and moaning beneath your sedulous fucking.

And he knows, even with the rubber separating his flesh to yours, that everything has changed. No one else could fuck him the way you do, the way you sucked him off, the way you ruled over him and his body. Eddie’s tears choke his moans, the ebony makeup spilling down to your white sheets, your nails scratching all over his tattoos as you bounce faster.

“Jesus. You fucking whore,” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, eyes slamming shut as you bounce. You glow with the sheen layer of sweat coating your body, breathtaking in all your pulchritudinous galore. Eddie traces the stretch marks on your thigh and thinks he’s never seen anything more beautiful than the rare sight of you all pleasured and his. “God, Eddie, you feel so amazing.”

Your head ducks, a sob coming out of you. Your heart palpitates, the shattering sensation of being fucked open by your best friend gives you blindsiding revelation that you would rather be with him than anyone else. Because the touch of his hands is nothing but comforting after your cruelty.

You bounce faster on his cock. Eddie’s tears are stained with gray rivulets, coming up to sit and push your chest against him so he can hug you. Your hand tangles itself on his unkempt hair, nails scratching his back, whereas he’s muffling his growls by biting on your shoulder. Eddie kisses his way to your neck, sucking and biting a love bite in.

“I’m close, bats,” he pants against your sweaty flesh. “I’m gonna fucking cum. I can’t hold it in.”

“Okay,” you nod, pulling away to press your forehead against his. You exchange breathy moans, your bounces now with the help of Eddie as you slowly lose your energy. “F-fuck. All this time I’ve been searching for some rando to fuck. Should’ve just gone to you.” He wedges his hand between your bodies, his fingers dancing across your clit that makes you bump your forehead harder with his. “Fuck, Eddie. Cum. I wanna feel you cum.”

Eddie keens on his orgasm, and so do you. Sobbing and mewling into each other’s mouths as your grinding slows down, feeling his warm cum fill his condom, your own climax covering the rubber. He runs his hands up and down your back, before they come up to your shoulder and cup your face, pushing your hair aside so he could kiss you.

A kiss sweeter and more innocent than the first one. Eddie takes your wet lips into his, soft with his pants and his touch. And with his lips still yours, he helps you kneel up to pull his softening cock out of your gaping cunt. You hiss lightly, a tear coating your eyelashes that he wipes away as he sits you down on his thigh.

“That’s it, mama,” his voice is raw and croaky, you rest your head on his shoulder, hands leaving you momentarily to pull his condom out. You watch as Eddie tiredly ties the condom, reaching the bin beneath your bed and throws it inside before he’s hugging you again, fingers rubbing your jaw and thigh. “You did good, bats. Tired?”

You nod your head. Eddie urges you to lay on the bed, where you lay on your side and prop your head up with your hand, He wipes the eyeliner off with the side of his thumb, eyes never leaving you.

“So,” you scratch the column of your neck. “That was intense. Didn’t know the Dungeon Master had it in him to call me mommy but, I wouldn’t complain.”

“Shut up,” he pushes on your shoulder, mimicking your position. Eddie’s fingers trace the curvatures of your waist, hovering over your stretch marks. “I didn't know you had it in you. Did you suck Harrington like that too?”

You laugh, hiding your eyes. “No. No, I never blew him. He’s very eager with giving head, it's insane.” Eddie smiles. “But he’s really good at it. He’s got a bit of a breeding kink. Kept whining about condoms but.”

“At least he’s good at giving head,” his rings are cold against your skin. Scooting closer, Eddie nestles his cheek on the side of his elbow. “So I know we literally just finished having sex but…are you still up for another?”

“Jesus, give me a break. I’m not a machine y’know,” he laughs.

“That’s not what I meant,”

You bite your lip nervously, taking his hand into yours and staring at the difference of its sizes. Your fingers were more slender than his, but his hand in general was bigger. “I’m still up to play house. I really liked the whole mommy thing.”

Eddie smiles, seraphic and pretty. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” you brush the curls away from his face. “Uncle Wayne wouldn’t be here for a couple hours. My parents are still out. So we can fuck for as long as we want.”

Your offer excites him. Eddie takes your cups your face and kisses you once more, deciding to worry about what would happen after all this later.

8K notes · View notes

oneforthemunny · 6 months

Text

candy caned |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|

prompt: you’re desperate to make eddie’s trailer more festive for the holidays. you bring over decorations, but eddie is only interested in one- a long, plastic candy cane.

apart of the twelve days of dom!eddie's christmas

contains: smut. 18+. dom/sub themes, hints at brat tamer/brat themes. spanking with implements (candy cane lol). role play-ish?? not really established but kinda alluded to it a little. aftercare. minors dni, read at your own discretion.

A cloud of smoke left Eddie’s lips, corners of his mouth pulling up into a half lipped smirk. Your car propelled over the gravel of the trailer park’s makeshift road, a playful beep of your horn. Eddie gave a small laugh, the air in front of him clouding at the contrast. He could hear the droning of George Michael’s Last Christmas, muffled from your car stereo but a reminder of why you were here.

Eddie bummed the cigarette when you turned off the ignition, the radio silencing but that didn’t stop you. “Last Christmas, I gave you my heeearrrttt.” Your door swung open, voice trilling out into the quiet, rainy park. Eddie grinned, shoving his hands in his utility jacket, starting down the groaning steps of his trailer.

“But the very next day,” You wiggled your brows at Eddie playfully, a toothy grin on your face that made his chest fill with a surge of heat. “C’mon, Ed, you know it!” You pouted playfully.

“Yeah, I do. Everyone on planet fuckin’ Earth knows it.” Eddie snorted, heavy work boots nudging your own Sorels. His hands found your cheek, pressing a soft, full lipped kiss to your warm skin. The nicotine on his breath made your head spin, melting into his touch.

Eddie’s lips quirked, fighting back a smile. “Still not singing it, though.” He muttered, fingers squishing your cheeks together playfully, pivoting towards your trunk.

The huff you gave did make him grin. “Such a Scrooge.” You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “No holiday spirit at all.”

Eddie waited by the trunk, eyes shining in amusement while you unlocked your trunk. His eyes widened, gaping at you in disbelief. “You’re shitting me.”

“What?” You frowned, reaching for the bundle of lights, tangled from the half-hearted place in your apartment’s pitiful storage.

“Baby,” Eddie blinked, positively confounded. When you’d suggested bringing some decorations over, he expected a few knick-knacks, maybe a tiny tree. Not the trunk full of Christmas decor, looking like something straight out of a Macy’s display window he’d pass in the city.

“There’s… This is a lot.” Eddie tried not to sound as horrified as he felt.

You frowned at him over your shoulder, hauling the tote bag with your Zellers Christmas Village in it over your arm. “You said you didn’t have anything.”

“I don’t.” Eddie nodded, scanning over the tubs- tubs, plural- of ornaments. “But-But you didn’t have to bring all of this. What about your place?”

You rolled your eyes lightly. “I barely stay there.” It was true, you’d slowly migrated into Eddie’s space over the months, staying more and more. “And you have more space. More decorating room.” The smile you gave him was bright, dazzling and excited.

Eddie’s was… less enthusiastic, a mix between a grimace and dread. Still, he grabbed the box of stacked ornaments, the glass rattling as he walked up the stairs, following your giddy steps into the trailer.

“No! Not so close to the edge!” You shrieked, Eddie nearly dropping the snowman figurine in his hand.

He’d been a good sport, he really had. Eddie didn’t complain when you handed him the tangled lights. He kept his snarky comments to himself when you had him fluff out the tree branches to the plastic tree. He’d come close to snapping when you busted out the Elvis Christmas album, but he didn’t- he tuned it out, focused on anything else.

The trailer was transformed, a Christmas wonderland, complete with the final touches of the snowmen and Santas on the window ledge. You pushed the snowman back, tilting it to your satisfaction, nodding with approval.

Eddie let you. The two of you had established a ‘system’- he’d put it out, and you went behind him and fixed it how you wanted it. “What about these, baby?” Eddie hummed, picking up the bundle of plastic, long candy canes. “These go on the tree?”

“No,” You shook your head, placing the last figurine on the window. “They go outside. We can do them when it’s not raining.”

Eddie turned the candy canes around in his hand, thin and spindly, intertwined plastic red and white that were long. He pulled one out by the hook, shaking it gently- testing it. Eddie brought it down, the swoosh whistling just barely over the music from his boombox.

“Don’t break them.” You frowned, twisting an ornament so it faced forward. “Just put them to the side. We can do them tomorrow if you want.”

Eddie stayed quiet, brows pinched together, tongue rolling over the inside of his cheek. You paused, watching him carefully as he studied the cane.

“You know what?” Eddie hummed, his eyes still on the red and white cane in his hand. “I think I have an idea.”

“What?” You looked at him, scanning the room for any spare place for the decoration.

“I can think of something better to do with this.” Eddie’s lips curled, intriguingly dark. “It would really get me in this whole most wonderful time of the year mood.” His tone animated, dark and mocking the way it was when he played DND with his friends, when they were about to be presented with a dangerous risk of a choice. It made your heart skip.

“What?” You repeated, brow quipping, waving your hand for him to continue.

Eddie’s eyes lit up, twinkling with excitement under the glow of the colorful strands on the tree. He lifted the cane, cutting it through the air with a satisfied swish!, holding your gaze with a darkened look of desire.

Your tummy flipped, heat rushing through your core, thighs pressing together at the insinuation.

Eddie lifted a brow. “Think you need it. Probably on the naughty list. Aren’t ya, baby?” He purred, spinning the cane in his hand. You squirmed under his gaze, fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater.

“‘M not.” You shuddered, shrinking under Eddie’s greedy gaze. “I’ve been very good this year.”

Eddie sucked in a dramatic breath through his teeth, stalking towards you until he was towering over you. “Hmm, that’s not what I heard, sweetheart.” Eddie muttered, nose nearly touching yours.

Your knees tightened, wobbling with excitement. “Good news is,” Eddie started, letting the candy cane slide through his hands, brushing over your own. “It’s not too late. Can correct you now. Teach you a lesson and make sure you’ll be extra good.”

This wasn’t exactly what you were expecting after decorating. You had hoped the decor would maybe bring some holiday spirit to Eddie, and in a way… it did?

“I want to be a good girl.” You squeaked, tiny and breathy tone that had Eddie’s cock twitching in his jeans.

“Yeah? I can tell.” Eddie nodded, hands clamping around the plastic decoration. “I can make sure you are.” Eddie’s hand reached for your jaw, fingers splaying over your cheeks, pulling your gaze to him. “You just gotta ask me.”

You whimpered behind closed lips, the throb between your legs growing and growing. Eddie tilted his head, curls silhouetted by the tree’s lights. He looked nearly angelic, so pretty- it was so deceiving.

“C’mon,” Eddie rasped, thumb stroking over your cheekbone delicately. “Ask me to help you be a good girl.”

You squirmed in his touch, eyes casting down. His hand caught your jaw quickly, pulling your gaze to him. “Please…” You swallowed, heart thumping from the thrill of anticipation. “Please, help me be a good girl? I wanna be a good girl.”

Eddie smiled, satisfied. A gentle, affectionate squeeze to your cheeks. “Alright, I’ll help you.” He nodded, stepping back from you. His arms crossed over his chest, candy cane in his left hand, dangling loosely in his grasp.

“Strip for me.” Eddie nodded, tongue running down his cheek, taking in your frame. Your red sweater, cropped and positively festive.

Your hands quaked with anticipation, unbuttoning your jeans carefully, shoving them so they pooled at your sock clad feet. Eddie watched you, leaning cooly against the couch, eyes roaming your frame until you were just in a high cut, cotton thong and lacy bra- his favorite. He had helped you pick it out, snuck in the dressing room when the snobby lingerie store manager stepped away so you could model it for him.

You looked at him, arms down by your sides, the way he’d taught you to. Eddie lifted a brow, head bobbing at you. “C’mon, keep going.”

“All of it?” You whined. “Eddie, can I keep my panties on please? You know I hate the cane-”

“-All of it.” Eddie snapped firmly. “You wanna be good? You’re not acting like you wanna be good. Still acting like a brat. Still acting like a naughty girl.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, lip jutting out in a pout that had Eddie’s abs clenching at the throb in his cock. You knew what you were doing, giving him your most pitiful, pouty look to drive Eddie wild. It was working.

Eddie’s brow lifted, a final warning that he was done arguing, eyes flicking down to your panties, heart skipping when your fingers hooked around them, pulling them slowly down your legs.

Your hands found your sides again, palms twitching with excitement, smoothing down the top of your bare thighs. Eddie waited until your eyes lifted to his, holding your gaze for just a touch too long- long enough to have you squirming with anticipation.

“Bend over the couch for me. Hands in front.” Eddie nodded, his voice dropping into that dark rasp it always did when he’d step into this domineering role with you.

The faded green carpet lacked it’s usual softness, coated with glitter from the decor and you hadn’t got a chance to vacuum yet. The usual crocheted blanket was folded over the arm of the couch, a reindeer throw pillow next to it. You set the pillow in front of you, so you’d have something to grab onto, bending over the arm of the couch.

Your eyes stayed forward, Eddie’s hum of approval muffled out by his heavy soled footsteps moving closer to you. “Hm, how many strokes does a naughty girl deserve?” Eddie sighed animatedly. He was putting on a show for you, for him too.

“What do you think?” Eddie tapped the side of your hip lightly with the cane, dragging the cool plastic over your ass.

You shuddered, the hook of the candy cane ghosting over the crack of your cheeks. “I don’t know, sir.” You grit, eyes closing, fighting the quake in your voice. “Three?”

“Three?” Eddie scoffed, halting his movements, the hook side of the cane pressed against the fatty flesh under your ass. “Try again, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know.” You whined, toes wiggling into the carpet. You were throbbing, dizzy with the desire for Eddie to touch you, spank you, fuck you- do something to you.

“Hm, better watch it, naughty girl.” Eddie hissed, eyes narrowed in on your ass. He pressed the cane up, lifting your cheek so he could sneak a peek at your puffy lips, already slick with your own arousal. “Can see why you got on the naughty list. Little bratty thing, aren’t ya?”

“‘M not.” You pouted, chin dropping into your outstretched arms.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true.” Eddie tsked, the cane moving closer and closer to your pussy. “And I think you should get a stroke for every month you were naughty this year. Twelve.”

You squirmed, hips wiggling and rocking in place. Eddie grinned, smoothing a hand over your spine. You jumped, relaxing under the familiar touch. “How’s that sound?” Eddie muttered, tapping your shoulder blade gently.

You turned back, chin hooking on your shoulder to meet his gaze. “Twelve?” Eddie asked, his hand still rubbing over your spine soothingly, like he did every night to lull you to sleep.

It made your heart swell with a warmth that had your cheeks burning with tingly heat. “Yeah.” You whispered, squeaking at the small squeeze Eddie gave your hip.

Eddie’s hand rubbed back down your spine, setting the candy cane on your upturned ass, shedding his sweatshirt slowly. “Think you’ll remember to be good this year after this?” Eddie questioned, tossing his sweatshirt on the chair behind him.

“Yes, sir.”

“You know what happens next year if you’re not good, right? If you’re on the naughty list again?” Eddie grabbed the cane slowly, dragging it over your ass and thighs.

“No, sir, I don’t.” You choked out, clenching the pillow in front of you.

“You get double.” Eddie said surely, bringing the cane down behind you. You felt the air on your skin, knees tightening with expectancy, the lingering threat looming closer and closer. “After that, I’ll just have to come down here every month. Cane you and make sure you get a monthly reminder to be good.”

You whined behind closed lips, hips lifting at the threat. Eddie grinned, lining the candy cane up to your ass. “And believe me, if I have to come down every month, take time outta my schedule to teach you a lesson, I won’t be as nice as this. You better consider yourself lucky this time. Better learn from it.”

“I will.” You panted, arms shaking from how hard you were clenching them. “I’ll be good from now on. I promise.” You sounded so sweet. Tone so airy and pouty and adorable, that tone that made Eddie’s vision blurry with desire.

“Good.” Eddie nodded, tapping the cane against your ass. “I’ll make sure of it. Count ‘em out for me, baby.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in through your nose. The cane pulled back, a whoosh! filling the air before it was snapping into your skin, a biting sting from the plastic spreading in a line across your cheeks. Your hips jumped, a tiny huff of a whine leaving your lips at the shock. It wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as the wooden cane Eddie used in the past, but still uncomfortable.

“One,” You breathed out through gritted teeth.

Eddie lined up the cane again, higher this time, before it was pulled back and sailing onto your bare skin, harder. Hard enough to have your head snapping up, toes bouncing off the carpet.

“Two!” You squeaked, Eddie’s hand on the small of your spine to steady you.

He watched you carefully. If this was the normal cane, you’d be crying by now- sniffly in the least. He lined it up lower, where your ass met your thighs. He lifted his hand, bringing the cane down with the type of strength he used with his hard soled slipper, hard and quick, pulling the sound he was looking for right out of you.

The yowl, punched straight out of your core, back arching and hips wiggling away. “Ow! Ow! Three!” You hissed, a white knuckled grip on the pillow. Your nose burned, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes now, the sting was searing now, leaving a sizzling sting that had you bouncing from foot to foot.

Eddie smirked in satisfaction, stilling you again with his hand firm on your lower back. “You learning your lesson?” Eddie grunted, the candy cane falling back down again, that white line imprinting your skin before disappearing, your cry following like clockwork.

“Yes!” You whined, and the petulant, bratty foot stomp that followed had Eddie’s cock lurching. “Four!”

“You’re gonna be really good this year, aren’t ya?” Eddie growled.

Swish!

“Yes! I’ll be good! I’ll be good!” You groaned, a watery, pathetic wail. “Five!” You bounced from toe to toe over the couch, hips shaking like you could possibly shake the sting out that way. The ache between your legs was blinding, rivaling the sting growing furiously on your backside.

Another stroke came before you were ready, quicker than the last time but just as unforgivingly searing. You cried out, a bubbling sob that tore from your throat. “You gonna make me do this again? Gonna be on the naughty list again?”

“Noooo,” You cried out. Your face rubbed against your arms, snotty cries from a burning nose and throat that you tried to soothe.

“What number was that?” Eddie tapped the cane lightly against you.

“Six.” You muttered, so pitifully sweet it made Eddie’s heart burst. The sniffle that followed was even more piteous, wet and snotty and somehow still bratty.

“Hm, ‘s not lookin’ great, baby.” Eddie teased, the cane snapping against your sore skin. “Already forgettin’.”

“Se-even.” You sobbed, head pressed into your arms, slack over the couch.

Eddie was nearly drooling, watching the way your hips rocked onto the arm of the couch for friction, catching glimpses of your pussy.

“You wanna be on the nice list.” Eddie nodded, striping you again right across the middle of your ass.

“Eight.”

“You know what nice girls get?” Eddie pressed, watching your shoulders shudder before he caned you, higher this time.

“No!” You hissed, knees buckling and legs quaking after the hit. “Nine.”

“Good girls who are on the nice list,” Eddie leaned forward, hovering over your squirming frame. “Get their pussies eaten out.” You whimpered, hips grinding down harder on the arm of the couch. “They get my tongue used on them as a reward for being so good.”

“Please, Ed, please.” You babbled, throbbing, needy, and your mind already numbed with the overwhelming sensation of pleasure and pain. “Please.”

“Nuh-uh-uh.” Eddie tsked, shaking his head at you. “You haven’t been good.” His hand rubbed over the hot skin of your ass, tickling just above your hidden pussy, grinning at the whine you gave. You stomped, huffing into the couch. There she was, the little brat he loved to play with.

“If you were good,” Eddie grunted, swinging the cane back and forward into your burning skin. You wailed, hand slapping into the couch, clawing at the cushion to keep yourself from reaching back. “You’d get eaten out.”

“T-Ten.” You whimpered, a pouty sound. Eddie could practically see your face- brows creased in a frown, lip jutted, tear stained cheeks and a runny nose.

“I’d use my tongue on you,” Eddie purred. You whined, nasally and desperate, hips swiveling down for friction. “I’d make you cum over and over and over.”

You gasped when the cane cut into your ass with an unforgiving snap, an inflamed imprint left in its wake. “Eleven.”

“I’d even let you sit on my face so you could grind down just like that.” Eddie teased, tapping your rocking hips with the cane lightly. “Let you do that on my face instead of on the couch, rubbing your pussy all over my couch like that when you’re getting spanked. Seems awfully naughty, if you ask me.” He tutted.

Your toes curled, his words were cruel, teasing, made your body burn with embarrassed heat- yet you were so close.

“I don’t think you’re gonna be very good this year. Don’t know if I believe you.” Eddie shook his head. “You’re supposed to be getting punished, not enjoying this.”

“I-I’m not.” You panted, shaking your head furiously.

“You’re not?” Eddie scoffed, setting the cane to rest on your ass. His hand dipped between your thighs, fingertips sliding through your sopping folds easily, smirking at the gasp that tore from your throat.

Eddie’s finger sunk into your soaking hole, pumping in and out at an agonizingly slow pace that had your head lifting, eyes pinched in pleasure. You were close, he could feel it, feel it in the way you clenched and strangled around his finger. He pulled away just as quickly as he put them in, your eyes flying open at the loss.

“What-”

“Look at this,” Eddie commanded, his fingers coated with your sticky arousal, pointer and middle finger spreading, webs of your slick forming with ever widening of his fingers. “You think someone not enjoying this would have that? Hm? Look at it.”

Your cheeks were scorching with heat, lifting your gaze shyly to his dangling fingers in front of your face, shaking your head lightly.

Eddie hummed in satisfaction, pulling his hand back, wiping your release over your burning ass. You yelped, jumping at the burn of his touch on your sore skin. Eddie’s lips curled, grabbing the candy cane off your hips.

“Last one.” Eddie muttered, lining the festive decoration up against your skin, tapping gently. “You ready, baby?”

“‘M ready.” You sighed, cheek pressed into your outstretched arms.

Eddie was sure he was about to bust at the sight of you- glassy eyed, sniffling lightly, whimpering with every roll of your hips. Oh, it was too fuckin’ much.

Eddie brought the cane down hard- hard enough he thought it might snap in half. The final blow that had you gasping, a strangled whine huffing out of your chest in a gasping heave before your body tensed, quivering at the sensation the impact left.

“T-Twelve.” You whimpered, cheek pressed against your arm, so spacy in ecstasy you were dribbling out of the corner of your mouth.

Your ass was stinging with that itchy, red-hot irritation that had you desperate to rub it out, only you knew it would only make the ache worse. You were throbbing between the legs, slick and frustrated, desperate for him to touch you.

Eddie’s hand skated in a feather light touch over your ass, passing so delicately over each of your lips, coated with your own slickness. “You learned your lesson?” Eddie hummed, swallowing the spit that filled his mouth at the sight of you, presented so perfectly over the arm of the couch for him- for him to fuck you.

“Ready to be a good girl? Be on the nice list?” His hand didn’t stop, sliding down the inside of your thigh, pushing lightly so you’d spread your legs.

“Yeah,” You sighed, airy and a little pouty, cheek still pressed to the couch pillow.

“Yeah? Look at me, baby.” Eddie patted your thigh gently, hovering over you.

You blinked, looking up at him with sweet, glassy, rounded eyes. “You alright?” Eddie asked, scanning your features carefully, testing the waters of where you were.

“Yeah.” You hummed, lip jutting ever so lightly. “I’ll be good now.”

“I know you will.” Eddie nodded. “Are you alright? You with me, baby?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, shimmying your body so it contorted and angled towards him. “I’m ready to be good, so you can fuck me now.” The bluntness of your words mixed with the light, breathy tone, so deceivingly sweet- it made Eddie’s head spin.

“Yeah?” He grinned, dimples creasing. “I was gettin’ to that, baby.”

“You can get to it now.” You hummed, slipping out of that hazy fog that he always got you in, back into your bratty ways. Eddie’s lips twitched, biting back a smirk. “‘M ready for it. I’ll be really good this year.”

“Alright, you earned it, I guess.” Eddie teased, pulling you by the small of your waist back up the arm of the couch. “How you want me, babe? This good?”

“Yeah, just let me-” You snatched the pillow in front of you, pushing it under your chest. “Ready.”

“You sure are, holy shit.” Eddie muttered, eyes glued to your parted thighs, your sopping cunt making his head reel at the sight. “You gonna be a good girl? Be my good girl?”

“Yes,” You whine, hips wiggling back further to him. “I’ll be good, so good, please.”

Eddie slipped two fingers into your sopping hole, pumping in and out just as slow as before. Your toes curled, body jolting with that euphoric, white hot bolts of pleasure. A small whine, quiet but pathetically desperate slipped from your lips.

Another whine followed, huffier this time, more demanding. “Alright, alright, I gotcha.” Eddie gritted, pumping his shaft slowly, smearing his own pre-leakages over his head, down his shaft. “I gotcha. Relax, baby.”

Your vision blurred at the feeling of him pushing into you, that achingly familiar stretch, your walls tightening with every slow roll of his hips further and further into you. Your ass was raw with the still fresh strokes of the cane, Eddie’s hips and groin snapping into the irritated skin with a purposeful punch of his cock inside of you.

Tears brimmed your eyes, of pleasure or pain or both, you weren’t really sure. The sensation was enough to have you mindless, cheek smushed into the couch cushion, whimpering. “Fuck, you gonna be my good girl? Be my-my nice girl?” Eddie hissed, eyes half-lidded, hypnotized by the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock with every roll of his hips.

“Yeah.” You whined, a ghosting of a whimper tailing on your words.

“Yeah.” Eddie grunted in a mocking tone, fingers sinking into the fat of your hips. “Holy fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good. You know that? ‘Course you know that. This feel good? Am I makin’ you feel good, baby?” His hand fell on your ass, a stinging hand print left in its wake on your already sensitive skin.

You yelped, head snapping up at the impact, red manicured nails curling around the needlepoint pillow, grappling at the loopy stitches while Eddie plowed into you from the back. Fingers bruising your hips and waist from the way Eddie was using your body to fuck himself, until he finally halted, heavy breathing gasps of pleasure. He pulled out, a thick stream of his own release drooling out of you and towards the faded floral upholstery.

Somehow, the lights on the trees and strung along the walls seemed brighter now, with you curled into his neck. Eddie blew the smoke away from you, towards the chilly night air that crept in from the open window.

“I think I kinda get it.” Eddie muttered, a hand rubbing down your back soothingly, pulling you out of your post orgasm hazy state. You hummed, nuzzling into his chest, curling into his body for warmth from the breeze that swept in. “Get why you like all this stuff.”

You lifted your gaze, eyes still glowing with the remnants of emotion, but rounding in the sweetest way. “Yeah? You gettin’ in the spirit, Munson?” You giggled softly.

Eddie snorted lightly, rolling the cigarette between his pointer and thumb over the ashtray. “Maybe.” He shrugged. “You lettin’ me spank you with a candy cane really got me in the spirit, babe.” You laughed, head dropping to his shoulder, eyes batting up at his.

The candy canes lined the path to Eddie’s trailer the next day. You helped him put them out in the freezing cold, occasionally rubbing your tender ass when he’d swish the decoration playfully, eyes dark and dazzling at you. One lone candy cane stayed inside, hanging on Eddie’s bedroom door knob to make it look more festive, or so he said.

889 notes · View notes