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oneforthemunny · 4 months

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marish hysteria |cowboy!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: eddie's been busy training for competition season, leaving you pent up and lonely.

so-called “marish” behavior—aggressiveness, impatience and general grumpiness—is more common during estrus because of increased hormone levels.

contains: minors dni 18+. dom/sub themes. exhibitionism (kinda??), spanking, with implement (strap), oral fem receiving, pinvsex, creampie, bratting (ish).

The bed creaked, the familiar soft grunt filling the room long before the morning light ever did. Eddie's arms stretching, hand rubbing softly over your hip tucked soundly under the quilt, feet padding across the groaning hardwood towards the bathroom. Light spilled under the door, the heavy stream of the faucet, toothbrush scratching across teeth; scratch, spit, swish, spit.

Jeans pulled off the rack, shimmying up his legs, buckle clinking as Eddie fastened it. Hair pulled back, short sleeve t-shirt on, today's selection a red tee, with a sports logo on it- something he saw at a yard sale that was in good enough condition to be a work shirt. His boots and hat by the door, the rising daw sun just barely starting to rise over the lush horizons. Eddie's lips pressed to your cheek, lingering a little longer than usual, nose rubbing against the skin before he pulled back, a final rub over your hip and he was out the door, leaving you to your peaceful slumber.

Or so he thought.

Your eyes fluttered open after you heard the screen door snap with a screech, latching and leaving the house still, silent. You sat up in the bed, reaching towards the curtains to yank them open, your curly headed love headed out into the stables. He looked so pretty in the morning light; that fucker.

You huffed, throwing the curtain back, lying on your back, watching the blades of the ceiling fan spin around and around. You knew Eddie would be out there all day, barely stepping in for lunch before he was back out there, training the last of the show horses. It was all he'd done for the past week... maybe longer, you weren't sure. You were starting to lose count, days blurring together in a blinded rage.

All you knew, was that it had been too long since you'd been with Eddie. You'd blame it on your ovulation, that sensitive time of your cycle that left you insatiable anyways, but with Eddie preoccupied in other ways it was miserable. Usually, Eddie would slip back into the house at eleven, after the stables had been clean and horses fed. Sometimes, he'd bend you over the kitchen table, hips snapping into you with such a deep force that you were left drooling over the faded wood. Other times, you'd join him on the porch, dropping to your knees when he walked up the stairs, sucking him off right there- he just looked too good, all flushed from the work of the day.

The first day he missed lunch, nothing more than a tired sigh when you went out to him a few hours later. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. Lost track of time." A soft reply that came with a brief kiss to your cheek. He practically passed out when he climbed into bed with you that night, exhausted and snoring.

By day four, you were antsy. A dry spell was normal, you supposed. Eddie was busy and was working, it wasn't like there wasn't a reason. He was exhausted, working himself overtime in the stables to make sure the show horses could execute every command flawlessly. Selfishly enough, you couldn't help but feel rejected, neglected... and you missed him. You'd tried to do the job yourself, finger buried between your legs, circling your clit the way Eddie did, but it wasn't as fulfilling as when he did it.

Now, gone was that guilt and understanding, irritation standing in it's place. You'd been good, you really had, until last night. Eddie showered after he came in, heavy steps and drooping shoulders all the way to the shower, and even lower when he came out. You watched him carefully from the bed, how he tossed his towel from off his hips, cock hanging in front of him- teasing you. Your mouth watered at the sight.

"I'll be glad when these fuckers come get the horses and I get my money." Eddie grumbled, fumbling through his drawer for his boxers.

"Mhmm," You hummed, eyes trained on his ass, the outline of his soft cock in the green plaid material.

"'m gonna take you out when I do." Eddie's eyes met yours, soft and sweet, grinning just lightly enough to make your heart flutter with hope; with excitement.

"Take ya out somewhere real nice." He rasped, leaning onto the bed, lips pressing into yours in a sweet kiss that had your own head spinning.

Your hand reached to cradle his jaw, a small sigh when you pressed him deeper into your kiss, melting into him easily. The desperate throbbing between your legs easing with the smell of his soap, every move of his full lips against yours, pulling him closer and closer.

"Honey," Eddie sighed lightly, hands on your wrists, holding them softly. "'m beat. I don't think I have it in me, baby."

Your heart dropped, blinking at him blankly, that familiar rush snatched out of your chest, filling the empty space with disappointment. "B-But," You stammered, watching him with wide eyes when he slipped under the sheets next to you. "I'll ride you, Ed. You don't have to do anything-"

"- I really just want to sleep." Eddie said softly, sweet enough. No bitterness or harbored resentment in his tone.

You stammered, floundering with your words for a moment, gaping at him when he reached over, flicking off his lamp. A hand on your hip, sweetly rubbing the flesh there, a coaxing move to get you to lie down. Your cheeks burned with rejection, huffing furiously, angrily turning off your own lamp. Eddie pulled you closer to him, his chest on your back, hand thrown over your hip.

One last glimmer of hope, a Hail Mary you hoped might work. You shimmied yourself further into his grasp, ass wiggling against the front of his boxers, brushing against his cock. You repeated it once, twice, hips shimmying for a third time before Eddie's sigh came heavy out of his nose.

"Baby, I told you 'm tired. I'm not in the mood. Quit it." He grumbled, voice gravelly with sleep.

You bristled, rolling out of his gasp entirely so you were pressed against the edge of the bed. Normally, Eddie would huff, slap on the light and demand to know why you were being such a brat. Your tummy flipped at the idea that he might be rough with you, be a little mean and punish you for your attitude. Fuck, you'd take a switching at this point if that meant he'd fuck you.

He didn't.

Instead, just sighed softly, before settling back into his pillows, snoring within a matter of minutes.

Fury filled you, and you had to clench your fists, stop yourself from shoving him off the bed in your rage. You knew it was silly, silly to be this bratty and demanding. Eddie had been working hard. Yet, you couldn't rationalize it enough to your raging hormones, set ablaze with lack of dick.

You barely slept, tossing and turning, avoiding Eddie's warm grasp that drew you in like a magnet. It just made you more and more furious, reminding you of what you hadn't got.

Arms crossed over your chest, you replayed the night before- the week before, with a pouty scowl. Unfair, fuck, it was so unfair. How did Eddie not feel the same way?

If you knew Eddie, and you did, you knew he wasn't not feeling the same way. You knew he had to be just as pent up, his exhaustion trumping whatever hormones he had. You twisted your lips in thought, finger tapping in a rapid pace against your arm.

Flinging the covers off you, you looked out to see Eddie in the fields, letting each of the horses out to gallop around in the morning sun. Your eyes narrowed, stomping to the bathroom, slapping on the faucet to fill the tub.

Eddie pulled the reigns gently, a small grunt leaving his lips as the horse trotted skillfully around the barrel. "Good girl," Eddie muttered, hand sliding down the silky mane. He was feeling proud, a pep back in his step that had long been gone since the start of the week before. The owners were coming to get their horses, ready to trot for show and competitions, and that meant he'd have a large check in his pocket.

Eddie looked down, checking his watch. A quarter til one, the owner and the rider would be here soon to make sure he had efficiently trained their thoroughbred. "Let's get you brushed out before your owners come and-" Eddie's head stuttered, catching a glimpse of something- someone approaching the stables.

You, with that devious, sultry smile, in your little rubber rain boots- and just your little rain boots.

"What the fuck..." Eddie muttered, demounting himself, gripping the reigns while he paced towards you. You grinned at him, waving sweetly, a shy little smile that he knew better than to fall for.

"Hi, handsome," You purred, stepping onto the gate, leaning over so your breasts spilled over the bar. "How's it going out here?"

"What the hell are you doin'?" Eddie huffed, tying the horse to the post, hands on his hips when he strode over to you.

It wasn't quite the reaction you expected, your face falling slightly. "What?" You feigned innocence. "I just came out to see you."

Eddie rolled his eyes lightly, eyes scanning over your body. Fuck, you knew what you were doing to him, all shaved and oiled up- positively delicious looking. "I'm working, honey." Eddie swallowed the growing lump in his throat, his cock stirring at the sight. "I got people coming soon."

"Aw," You jutted your bottom lip out, nearly mocking. "I thought you liked when I walked around like this."

"I do." Eddie nodded, letting his hand fall over your hip sweetly, willing himself not to grab your ass. He sighed heavy out his nose, frowning at you. "But not when I got people coming. Not when I'm working."

Your face fell, the sultry mask falling off your face. There was a second of hurt, a small fall in your face that had Eddie's heart wrenching with guilt- only for a moment. Before you were overcome with rage. Lips twisting and setting in pure displeasure, eyes narrowing at him.

"Are you fucking serious?" You snapped, pulling away from him with a shove.

Eddie's brows shot up, shocked out your outburst. "Baby-"

"Don't." You sneered. "You've been working all week and... You know what? Fuck it." You threw your hands up, turning on your rubber soled heel.

Eddie called your name, a rather strangled, frustrated sigh, his hand reaching for your wrist that you slapped away. "No, no, fuck you, Eddie. You've ignored me all fucking week and I try to do something nice and exciting for you, and you still ignore me." Your cheeks burned with embarrassment maybe fury, waterline pricking with tears.

"Sweet girl, I told you. I'm exhausted. I've been out here all day-"

"-I know, Eddie." You snapped. "Didn't realize that meant you couldn't spend a second of your time with me. At the very least fuck me."

Eddie paused for a moment, lips pursing. "That's what this is about?" He huffed. "I've been tired."

"So have I," You shrilled. "Tired of you ignoring me."

"This is a very big job for me, you know that. It's a lot of money-"

"-Great, Eddie. You've said that." You snapped. "I didn't realize that meant you'd be ignoring me all week. Clearly you can't handle the pressure of this job." Finger jabbed in his chest, you emphasized your point. Mean? Yes. You knew it was, and the way Eddie's face fell secured that. Still, you didn't care. You were a woman possessed, blinded by rage and desire and rejection.

Eddie didn't get a chance to respond, the familiar crunch of the gravel startling him. The tiny figure of a car starting down the path. "Shit, shit," Eddie huffed, yanking you by your arm towards the stables.

You blushed furiously, suddenly very aware of how exposed you were. You'd wished you had at least wore panties now, but that was too late now. Eddie yanked you through the barn towards the far corner where his tools were, yanking a utility jacket that had been retired until fall off the hook.

"Put this on, and stay back here. Do you understand me?" Eddie's tone held no room for argument, stern and authoritative. Your head bobbed, fingers curling around the jacket to keep yourself concealed, wedging into corner behind the stall.

"Don't you dare make a sound, and don't you dare move." He pointed at you, jaw tight and firm, scolding you like a bad puppy. Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, thighs clenching at the tone. You hated how thrilling this was, the adrenaline of being naked in the barn, of being potentially caught. Eddie's stern tone, fuck, it made your knees shake.

Eddie stomped out the barn, the soft mummer of voices mingling outside of the barn before they disappeared towards the field. A part of you wanted to look, watch Eddie ride and show off the horse, the veins in his hands, bulge in his forearm. You were dizzy at the thought. Instead, you stayed hidden, pressed up against the wood of the stable, hidden away from the eyes of others, heart trilling in your chest like a hummingbirds wings when Eddie's voice finally came into earshot again.

Muttered words about "pleasure to work with" and "another one soon", you leaned closer to hopefully hear more. Eddie's gruff tone, friendly but still rough, the creak of the horse trailer, heavy hooves clomping against the metal ramp, the tear of the check, before finally the gravel crunched under the truck and trailer.

You waited, too scared to peer around to check. Eddie's boots were hard, even against the hay, eyes hard and cutting under his hat. He looked at you for a moment, eyes scanning your frame, the valley of your breasts down to your navel, your freshly shaved pussy. His cock throbbed at the sight.

"You better listen to me. Do exactly what I say with no lip, you understand?" Eddie glared at you, pointed and mean. You nodded dumbly.

Eddie's hand pushed the jacket off your shoulder, the feeling of his rough fingertips on your shoulder enough to make you shudder. "I want you waiting for me inside." He nodded towards the house, hand raising to stop you. "Uh, not so fast, darlin'." His eyes were dark, gleaming with that wickedness that had your tummy flipping.

"Grab your strap." Eddie nodded towards the wall, hidden behind ropes and reigns, inconspicuous mahogany leather on the wall, a tool reserved just for you. Entirely yours.

You didn't hesitate, snatching the strap off the wall, scurrying back to the house bare except for your boots. Eddie followed slowly, a menacing pace he knew was thrilling to you. He'd find you in the bedroom, standing by the edge of the mattress, practically bouncing on your toes. Hands by your side but eyes wide, excited, every ounce of attitude from before gone with the promise that you'd finally get what you want- the attention you craved.

Eddie couldn't blame you, he supposed. He'd be mad too if it was him being ignored, and guilt flooded his system in an icy shock at the thought. Until he saw you, biting back your tiny grin at the edge of the bed.

Eddie snorted lightly, fighting back his own smile. He crossed his arms over his chest, a desperate attempt to stay stern. "I expected better from you." He shook his head at you. "Thought you would know better than to throw a hissy fit like that. All because you didn't get your way."

Your lip jutted. "It's not a hissy fit, Ed." You whined, foot stamping lightly into the ground. His brow raised at you, a warning. You huffed. "I just... I missed you, Eddie. I thought you'd like me surprising you like this. You always do."

Eddie hummed, pulling off his own shirt, your eyes gaping at his sweat slicked chest, toned softly from years of manual labor. You knew you had to be dripping by this point, and he wasn't making it any easier on you.

"I do like it when you surprise me, baby." Eddie cooed lightly, hands moving to his belt. You watched his fingers flex with the buckle. "I don't like it when you try to distract me while I'm working so you can get your way."

You crossed your arms over your bare chest. "Ed, I'm sorry." You sighed heavily. "But you were ignoring me and... and I missed you."

Eddie hummed, chest puffing to tower over you. "You missed me?" He tilted his head in question, stepping so he was toe to toe with you. You looked down at his tented boxers, lip rolling between your teeth.

"Or," Eddie's hand grabbed your chin, pulling your gaze back to him. "Did this pretty little thing miss me?" He hummed, free hand cupping your heat.

You gasped, knees locking at the sensation. The heel of his hand rolling over your mound, middle finger teasing your slick folds. You whined, hips grinding down into his touch. Your mind was blazing, body too, with every swipe of Eddie's fingers teasing you. Oh, it was delicious. You had missed this.

"You just not gonna answer me anymore? Not gonna listen, hm?" Eddie tsked, tilting his head down menacingly towards you. "That's how this is gonna be?"

"No," You whine, pressing down towards his fingers. He was purposefully missing your clit, your hole, the places you needed him most. "Both."

"Both, what, honey?" Eddie's twang fell through his words, making your chest bolt with feverish heat.

"We both missed you." The pout you gave him had his knees weak, fingers curling just barely into your entrance. Your eyes widened, mouth matching at the idea that he might give you what you wanted.

Instead, Eddie pulled his fingers out. You nearly fell into him, knees knocking together like the newborn foals that wobbled around the pastures. Eddie's free hand caught you by your waist, steadying you with a firm grasp.

"Easy, baby," He muttered, squeezing the fat of your hips gently. "We're just gettin' started here, sweetheart. Don't give up on me so easily now."

Stubble covered cheeks creasing, dimples deepening with the tug of his lips, curling in a dark grin that had you aching between your legs. Eddie told you to climb on the bed, hands and knees, and you knew you were too excited. You could hear him snort lightly, knowing he was shaking his head when you scrambled to your tabletop position on the edge of the bed excitedly.

"You know what you're in for?" Eddie scoffed, rolling the strap, heavy and thick, in his hand. "You ain't gotta outta that one, baby."

"I know." You chirped, looking over your shoulder at him. "I deserve it, I know." You purred.

Eddie nearly choked, swallowing down the spit that pooled in his mouth. The sight of your swollen cunt, slick already, eyes batting over your shoulder at him- it made his head spin.

"Christ Almighty," Eddie muttered. "I didn't know you were this bad, honey." His hand smoothed over the soft skin of your thigh, squeezing the flesh lightly. "Makin' me feel bad."

"Don't." You shook your head. "Just-Just-" You nodded at the strap in his hand, eyes shining with excitement. "I need you. Now."

Eddie's brow raised, shocked at your boldness, the commanding tone that took him back. It wasn't usually how things played out when you were in this position. Bratty, whiny- sure, but never directing... never this excited.

But who was Eddie to deny you? He'd be a fool to.

"You're really pent up, aren't ya, sweet thing?" Eddie grinned, the leather of the strap rubbing over your ass teasingly.

You sucked in a slow breath, eyes fluttering closed. "I told you I was." You muttered. Eddie squeezed your hip lightly twice, a warning that he was starting.

There was a pause, an absence of the strap, a soft grunt before the familiar swishing cutting through the air before it landed across your ass. The sting of surprise dwindling to a burning sear of pain sizzling across your skin, straight to your core.

Your usual whiney cry didn't fill the room. Instead, a delicious sigh of pleasure, like when you were sinking in the bath after a long day- longing and content.

Eddie's brows raised, hesitating before pulling his arm back again, sending the strap falling against your raised ass. You grunted, the hit harder this time, leaning forward at the impact. Your back arched, hips wiggling back into place, teasing, nearly.

"You know you're not 'sposed to be enjoying this." Smack!

"'m not." Your voice raised, lifting to that airy octave that teetered on a whine, leaned more towards a sigh of pleasure. "It hurts, Ed."

Eddie snorted, rolling his eyes. As if that was convincing. Not with the way your back arched, pussy drooling at him. "Does it?" Eddie brought the strap down harder this time, enough to pull a squeal out of you.

"Thought bringin' the strap out on ya woulda had you more obedient." Smack! You whined, swallowing down a hint of a moan you hoped Eddie didn't hear.

"Nearly let everyone out there see you naked." Eddie shook his head, the strap falling yet again. You jumped, wishing he would have let you bend over the bed instead so you could rub out some relief on your aching pussy. You knew that's why he had you in this position, so you couldn't.

"People I do business with," Smack!

"Seein' you out there, paradin' around with nothin' on." Smack!

"E-Eddie..." You were sure you weren't going to last, aching between your legs so badly it was beginning to hurt. You needed him to touch you, you would beg for it at this point.

"Wonder what they'd think, hm." Eddie smirked, letting the strap fall again, right to the center of your ass. His rough hands slid over your hot skin, squeezing. You hissed at the burn, his chest folding over your back, curls tickling the shell of your ear.

"If they saw you like that, like this." Eddie's hands slid between your legs, fingertips gliding through your slick folds. You gasped, a strangling of a moan tore through the air, head tipping back and back arching deep into his touch.

"If they saw how needy you get f'me." Eddie growled, teeth bared with lust, breath hot on your cheek.

Your eyes met his, rounded and begging before he pinned you beneath him. Teeth clashing, hands grabbing at anything, everything you could. Your threading, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck. His squeezing your ass cheeks, grinning into your kiss when you squealed.

"I-I've fuckin' missed you- Fuck, I've missed you." Eddie muttered, hot, sloppy kisses trailing down your jaw, your cheek.

"I've missed you." You tipped your head back onto the pillows, hips grinding on his thigh, shamelessly humping his leg, hands tangled in his hair.

"This was too long, Eddie. Don't-Don't do this again." You whimpered, shuddering when he sucked a deep bruise into your collarbones.

"I won't, baby. I won't." Eddie rasped, squeezing your breast, thumb rolling over your nipple. "Fuck, 's too long for me. Been fuckin' miserable."

"Yeah?" You hummed, half lidded lashes fluttering down towards him.

"Yeah." Eddie's lips curled, squeezing your hip playfully. "Way too fuckin' long. Been fuckin' starving." He growled, sitting up at the edge of the bed, your legs hooked around his shoulders.

"Eddie! Be careful!" You squealed, your body raised half off the mattress when he pulled you. You loved when he's manhandle you like this, tug and toss you into place so effortlessly.

His hands gripped the fat of your ass, leaving you hissing as he dove tongue first into your heat. No warm up, no warning, no teasing- just a man deprived, desperate for a taste.

"Oh!" You gaped in surprise, back arching into his mouth. Your hands fisted around the quilt above your head. Your clit ached when Eddie's tongue swiped over it, a beautiful pain that had your whole body burning in heat.

Clicks of spit mixing with your slick, muffle moans and gasps filled the small room, your body twisting in his grasp. Toes curling, chest heaving and stuttering far easier than usual, but what could you say? You had missed him. Missed this.

Eddie's stubble covered chin was covered in a wet sheen, shining in the sunlit room, stripping off the rest of his clothes. Belt buckle falling, jeans joining in a puddle.

"How d'ya want me, baby?" Eddie rasped, eyes lust-soaked and dark.

"However, I don't care." Pushing up on your elbows, moving closer to the edge of the bed.

Eddie grinned, a sly, dimpled smile that had your body electrified with a throbbing excitement. He settled between your legs, wrapping one around his hip. He swallowed a groan when you pumped his length, hips rolling towards your hand.

"That's it." Eddie looked down at you through half-lidded lashes. "Go on. Put it in there for me, honey."

Your body flushed with thrilling heat, pussy clenching at the authority in his voice. You pumped him a few more times, guiding him into your sopping hole, his hips pushing in with your guidance.

"Good girl. Knew you could be good for me." Eddie's voice was tight, mind numbing with every slow roll of his hips, your walls strangling his length.

"Fuck," Eddie shuddered, bottoming out. He held himself there for a moment, just wanting to feel you. He'd missed it, nearly forgotten how good you felt, it had been so long.

Your nails dug into his forearm when he started to move, slow and deep thrusts, filling you. "Feel s'good." Eddie muttered, hand squeezing your thigh, your hip. "You feelin' good?"

"Yeah." A breathy sigh teetering on a whine.

"Yeah?" Eddie grinned. "This what you needed, baby? This's all you needed wasn't it?"

"Yes, Eddie." You whimpered, hips grinding down to meet his slow thrusts. "G-Go faster."

"Faster?" Eddie grinned nearly teasingly, shifting your leg on his hip, pulling your closer to the edge. "You're in charge now, hm?"

"I- no." Your mind swirled with pleasure, babbling at the change of pace. "I just- I need it like that."

"Need?" Eddie laughed. You frowned, lip jutting in a pout that had his cock throbbing with need. "Alright, alright, I'll give you what you need, sweet girl. I gotcha, baby."

You clenched around him, head tipping back into the mattress. Eddie's thumb circled your clit lazily, smirking at how you whined, legs tightening around his hips.

"Look s'pretty like this." Eddie hummed, lashes fluttering, gaze rolling over your body. "Look pretty f'me, don't you? Look at me, sweetheart."

"For you." You looked over at him, eyes glassy with pleasure. "Eddie, I need-" You whined, back arching, body twisting in his grasp.

"What? You need what?" Eddie's pace slowed, looking at you carefully. "Tell me what you need."

Your body burned, a shooting flare of heat, as blinding as it was before. A primal need that had your mind stuttering. You weren't exactly sure what came over you, Eddie certainly wasn't. Pulling him flush against you roughly, his chest pressed to yours, hands by your shoulders to steady himself.

"What are you doin'-"

You gripped his ass, squeezing the muscles of his cheeks, pressing him deeper and deeper into you. Your legs tightening around his hips, locking him in place, your hips rolling, grinding into the wiry hair of his base.

Eddie's eyes widened, startled, a little shocked. You grabbed at him, grinding mercilessly onto him, hips rocking, cunt squeezing his cock. "F-Faster, Ed." You panted, eyed pinched closed.

Eddie faltered for a moment, feet planting awkwardly, body still folded over your, jackhammering into you still buried deep. Your legs squeezing his hips, arms wrapped around his body.

"Yes!" You cried into his skin, nails digging into his shoulder. "Like that, like that. Oh shit, just like that, Ed!" You babbled, grinding down to meet his furious pace.

"Like that?" Eddie gritted, hand sliding under your spine to hold you closer. "That's how you need it? That's good?"

"Yes, yes, so good, so good." You rambled, head lolling back.

Eddie's breath was hot on your cheek, pressing a sloppy kiss to your jaw, teeth grazing over the nape of your neck. You whined, clawing at him furiously, he knew his back would be marked with your scratches- he couldn't wait.

Eddie fucked into you, hard, hips stuttering as his own orgasm teetered closer and closer. Teeth sinking in a rough kiss to your neck, sucking a bruise that sent you right over the edge, body shaking in pure pleasure. His own orgasm following, spilling deeply inside of you. Your feet dug into his lower back, pushing him closer and closer to you as he released, a hungry look in your starry eyes that told him you weren't going to be done with him anytime soon.

"You-You gotta give me a second, baby." Eddie's chest heaved with yours, grunting at the burn in his legs when he shifted to stand. "Gotta gimme a second, and I-I'll get it up again. Just let me-"

You were grinning, that same sly smile across your features that had Eddie's heart leaping in excitement.

Eddie found himself back on the bed, against the headboard, you between his legs. "I- hmph- I can get it up, baby. You don't-don't have to- shit!" Eddie's hips bucked, fists clenching the quilt on the bed.

You looked up at him, lashes batting innocently, tongue running down the seam of his sac, sucking lightly. Your thumb moved back teasingly, sliding towards Eddie's tight hole.

"Hey, hey! Get outta there." Eddie's voice was tight, trying to swallow down a moan that threatened to spill out.

"Think you like it." You grinned, fingertip running along the vein on the underside of Eddie's cock, stirring back to life.

"Think I'll strap your ass some more if you do that again." Eddie threatened, eyes hard, but the flustered flush on his cheeks made you grin.

"Promise?" You grinned wickedly, pad of your finger dragging back slowly towards his sac.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," Eddie grunted, your hands rolling and squeezing his balls perfectly, making his toes clench and curl.

Your finger tickled the underside of his balls, trailing lower and lower towards his crack when he'd finally had enough. Face down in the mattress, hands pinned behind your back, Eddie's free hand reigning down on your still sensitive ass. You squealed, squirmed, even giggled, cheek pressed to the quilt to look over at him.

Eddie's tongue rolled over his cheek, fighting back a smile he couldn't hold in. Eyes batting sweetly, that same little smile on your lips. "You're somethin' fuckin' else, you know that?" Eddie smirked.

"Yeah." You bite back a smile. "You love me anyways."

"I do." Eddie nodded, his grip loosening on your wrists, leaning down to kiss your cheek gently. You sighed contently, melting under his tender touch.

"Love you so much, baby." Eddie hummed. You burned under his gaze, heart soaring at the affection in his tone.

"Even if you are a brat." His hand fell down on your ass, pulling a squeal of surprise from you.

"How you want me this time?" Eddie smirked, legs swinging off the bed to stand, looking at you carefully.

You grinned, pushing off the mattress, back in your table top position towards the edge of the bed. Eddie snorted, muttering under his breath as he stroked himself, a hand on your spine pushing you down into place. You smirked against the mattress, hips wiggling for him. You finally got what you wanted.

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deadboyfriendd · 3 months

Text

Cochise IIl: Tango

Summary: An Old Christmas tune brings Eddie face-to-face with what he has been running from. Turns out, you aren't as different as you think you are.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Outlaw/Doc Holliday!Eddie Munson x Reader, wild west/Tombstone AU!, drug use, drug overdose (apparent suicide), death of minor character, period-appropriate death, angst, fluff, piano smut, oral (fem receiving)

My content is 18+ Minors DNI

Word Count: 2.6k

Author's Note: I've been creatively and emotionally constipated for weeks now, so the fact that I even got this out when I did was a feart on it's own and I'm very proud of myself for it.

As always, thank you to @dr-aculaaa for being my BTS on this project, love you <3

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Edward was a man of repose, though, in your sadness, you’d figured you’d been, too. Maybe it wasn't repose at all. Stoicism, maybe, but there was one thing you knew for certain: He was much prettier than you. His skin of alabaster, freckles across flesh kisses of vulnerability and dusted across his worn body as a reminder of the naivety of the youth he once possessed.

You supposed this is what it was now, slender fingers plucking at strings in the dead of night. Be it the stoicism or the naivety of youth, the moon cast a glow across his cheeks and carved rivers through the valleys of his face. You listen to the inflection of strings scraping loosely across frets. F, A, B, A, in a smooth stacking rhythm.

There is a twang to his strumming, like there was a string loose somewhere– but not entirely like your piano. The piano had a resounding twang, it echoed within itself like the ghosts of internal hammers and keys before throwing its brashness out against the walls of your bar. You did not know how to tune it, and it would not be tuned again.

This sound was much softer, much less brash than your own, the hum resounded within the walls of the instrument itself before dissipating the sound into the open night air like an inkwell in water. It spread, filled the space and lingered until there was another sound to see it out. A choreography of sorts, yet the song was all too familiar in the way it filled the space in your head and the hole in your heart.

Its tiny, needle-pointed feet danced across your brain in flashes of sheer white fabric and the song of the oak floors of The Grand Hotel. Their piano did not sing the same far-east folk song as yours, no, instead it hummed an autumnal hymn of reverence and elegance. It was not as perverse as your piano, but your piano was more gentle with your heart. Your piano didn’t remind you of that worn spot on the floor, or the cracking scabs forming on your hardened knuckles.

The corner of the door jamb dug a divot into your shoulder, but you didn’t have the grace to move without making the entire balcony creak, so you didn’t. A singular step forward pulls a groan from the floor of the porch where the wood expands with the heat of the impending monsoon, and, regretfully, his fingers pull themselves from the frets like the nails holding the plants to the rafters of the porch.

“Hello, Edward.”

“Ma’am.”

You leaned back against the post, arms folded and unable to will away the beginning semblances of a grin from your lips. You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes in his direction.

“I think we’re past ma’am now, Edward.”

“Well, in that case, I also think we’re past Edward, now.” A grin that resembled your own pulled at the corners of his mouth. He had asked you to call him Eddie earlier, it felt less formal than this. The formality kept you upright, kept this whole thing from crumbling.

You folded your arms in front of yourself, hip dropping heavy across the solid singing of your piano. Kind-of-but-not-really attempting to conceal the smile spreading across your face like a disease, “That’s a pretty song you were playing.”

“Learned it from a woman.” Eddie had said to you, arms folded, starting a stride with heavy, hollow footing towards you. Slow and in a metronomy rhythm.

You cocked a brow at him, smile spackled heavy across your face, “Oh really?”

“Yes, really.” He insisted, “She owned a bar out west. Played it at night on an old piano.”

“Well I’ve got an old piano here.” You said to him, arms staying folded as you kicked your boot out in a heavy, choreographed stride, “Maybe I can teach you to play it sometime.”

It was always this song and dance. Always this beautiful waltz of back-and-forth quips, lines wonderfully blurred by the haze of smoke from a cigar and sweet as the kiss of sasparilla, though, that bitter aftertaste would still rear it’s ugly head like the snake from the hole. Rattles thick in the stagnant air like a warning.

“Y’know,” Eddie had said to you through a puff of smoke, “You should really stop giving me all of these free things.”

You’d never take that into account. One cigar from the humidor, in the grander scheme of things, would never be enough repayment for anything he had done for this town. Anything he had done for you,

“Well,” You’d quipped back, sitting back down at the polished bench of your old piano, “ – maybe you should stop saving my life, then.”

That bitter aftertaste, a sting of smoke stilled in the in-between hung heavy in the air– shattered by the opening arpeggio shrill enough to shatter it like glass.

“I’ll always save your life.”

You couldn’t decipher if the pause in your song had been intentional, though, you’d hoped it seemed intentional enough to be a plausible excuse for your silence in return. The bass notes rang heavy under the shifting mechanisms in the hollow underside of the piano as you placed a foot, too-heavy, against pedals in a desperate effort to drown out the harshness of noise, the heaviness of your hands– the weight of this place.

He filled his space on the opposite half of the thin piano bench, his legs bracing against the floor to press his back against yours. He leaned his head backwards, a welcome weight against your shoulder, and tried to feel the muscles in your hands turn over each other and vibrate in time to the bass crescendos and tinny melodic trebles.

“Where’d you learn to play something as pretty as this, anyhow?” He kept his voice soft, turning his head to attempt to look at what you were doing. You could feel the heavy breath from his nose cool against your neck.

“It’s an old German worship song. My husband’s mother would sing it at Christmas.”

He looked at the handwriting along the ledger lines and felt sorrow for the woman that wrote it.

He can see their Christmas, a mother’s voice a warm river across the rocks of a piano melody, a distraction from the war waging just outside of their front doors. A fire and a meal, though, he remembered the wartime– remembered a time where his own mother had rationed enough of their weekly collection to have a real, fresh meal. He thought of that warmth and then thought of you.

He tips his head back and blows a plume of smoke in an effort to stifle the memory. Instead, he wishes to replace that warmth with you.

He stared at the hole in the floor, the discolored groove where you had scrubbed your knuckles bloody and raw. He thought about the him-shaped divot he had scrubbed into the frozen planes of Montana.

He thought of her, the eldest daughter of two Roman Catholic missionaries following the fur trade to an unholy promised land.

He thought about God, and just how cruel He could be.

Did Eddie sit where your husband once sat? Did he lean against the expanse of your back and feel the vibration of the keys travel through the wiry expanses of your arms and settle back against him, just as Eddie had?

Would he leave a him-shaped hole in you the same way your husband had? Would you wear down the wood the same way he wore down himself?

“I was married, too.” he admitted to you, voice shattering the turning of sheet music and the resonant patriarchal basso that echoed out against these glass windows.

“What was her name?”

“Christine.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

“Yes.”

You sound like his mother, he thinks, authoritative but not coddling in the way you question him. He wonders if you feel a discomfort in this statement. He hopes you feel a solidarity in your grieving enough to overlook it. You do not ask him how she died, though, if you were to, he would tell you:

Christine dies at the hand of laudanum, too beautiful to not have a devastating fault. The red-haired daughter of southwest Arksansas– far across that deep blue water she lived, and it was across that water where he had loved and left her. He thought of her skin, like ivory though cold as porcelain even long before her death. Her body, as it was laid to rest, had remained the same even in death as it had during her life. No amount of insurmountable beauty could cover the sullenness under her eyes or the frailness of her wrists. The red halo of hair surrounding her head could not guarantee a peaceful end. No amount of love was enough to save her from herself.

He thinks of her eyes, long before the hollowness had clouded them over like a storm. He remembered a time where there was a soft glow there, a gas lamp that only he could ignite. He wondered if your eyes held that same glow.

He thinks of a time where she stood outside of her father’s river home, barefoot in the mess of cattails and thick grass to encase him in a loving embrace. He had insisted that she put some shoes on. He wondered if you did the same, letting your feet burn in the sun-warm sand. He wondered if your husband insisted that you do the same.

Their marriage had died long before she had. The kiss of opium tincture still bitter against his own lips as he pressed them to hers for a last time.

Your hands were not as tender as hers, yet the tenderness was not what he craved. He thought about this now, as you held his arm in a grounding grip. Tight enough to know that you were still there but not enough to hurt. He wondered if you needed that, too.

This kiss was all-encompassing, starving in nature, though awkward on the deliverance.

He knew you would forgive him if he was being too forward, but he figured you were a little past apologies now. Your back is laid across his lap, twisting and contorting to meet his own lips from your side of the piano bench. He uses this leverage to pull you forward, more over him than against him.

There are hot tears that run down his cheeks, though, he’d figured you were past those now, too.

His embrace around your back is not hungry– it is desperate, as if he is clinging to anything to keep him tethered to this plane.

The piano bench scrapes loud against the knotted wooden floors of the bar as he pushes your back against the keys. They sounded with an off-key crash and lingered for moments too long. You do not feel the way the keys and beveled finish of the piano press into your back, in the same way he does not feel the knotted pine dig into his knees when he kneels at your feet.

“Please,” He whines, tears no longer streaming down his ruddy face, though the sticky tracks remain, “Please jus’ let me taste.”

It is not possible for you to deny him when crystalline tears budding up against a pink lashline– when a heavy hand drags itself against your leg in anticipation– no– pleading.

You lean further back, balancing on the slippery edge of the piano bench, and you swear you can hear a soft, “Thank you.” whispered against your thigh between soft, wet kisses.

His grip is bruising. In the same way you had tethered him to this earth, he binds you to him. One hand lies on the pool where the outer fat of your thigh presses flat against the wood, the other a vice, at your knee in order to keep your legs open.

The edges of teeth graze against tender skin, affixing themselves along garter belts as hungry hands find purchase on your hips beneath chemise underdresses. Hot, humid breath dampens your skin as it escapes from his teeth– clamped along the garter now sliding down your leg and off your foot. A strong hand pushes back upwards, feeling along the silken hair there.

Edward was a man of repose. In your sadness, you’d figured you’d been, too. Though, you wouldn’t have guessed it by the way he pressed a hot, flat tongue against your core and traveled upwards slowly in an experimental taste.

“Like fuckin’ sugar,” He wines into you, his hair a splayed mess against your thighs, his tongue finding purchase against your core.

Thick fingers prod within you, the slow in and out a tether to focus on as you shook. He wanted you to shake. He wanted you to tremble and shiver all of the worries that had plagued you to the bone.

Eddie could not be your husband, but he could make you forget– even if it was just for the night.

He reaches upwards from beneath your dresses, a hand intertwining itself with yours and feeling across the ridges of your cut and calloused knuckles.

You could not be Christine, but you could be here– even if it was never in your bed.

At the precipice of your climax, you cry out, and he likes to think that it is for him. He squeezes your hand, emerging from beneath your clothes with hair askew and a dewey sheen across reddened cheeks. When he kisses you, it is softer and you taste yourself on his lips. He does not think of the bitter taste of opium residual on the lips of Christine. Instead, he only thinks of you.

He does not waste time when he hikes your skirtings above your waist, hands like a vice against the fat of your hips. He is quick when he unclasps his belt and unbuttons his trousers, and smooth when he slides himself into you.

You are quieter than other women, soft staccato breaths escaping with whispers of moans punctuate his thrusts– slowly and then with more rigor.

He keeps a furrowed brow as a bead of sweat drips down his nose and onto the bare skin on your chest where his lips now find purchase, staccatos of his own dotting your skin like galaxies in the vastness.

He sees the way the soft glow of the lamp light heats your skin, the pink ruddiness that graces your cheeks or the glitter that flashes over your eyelids when the light catches the oil there. He sees the way your soft lashes kiss the apples of your cheeks or the soft folds of your neck as your head lolls to the side in satisfaction. He sees the way your hair curls with sweat around your ears in soft coils or the way his saliva has settled in a gloss along your lips.

And by the stars above you, he swears that he could love you.

A thumb is heavy against you, in circles and figure eights as it wills you towards the edge that you closely teeter upon.

“It’s okay,” He whispers to you, by soft pianissimo whispers, “You can have this. I want you to have this.”

A barely-there sigh escapes your lips, deeper-winded than the rest and you allow your body to fall slack as he continues to pump in a rhythm, finishing quickly and lowering your underskirts as he sinks to his knees.

Tonight, you would hold his head against your stomach as hot tears would once again roll down his face. Tonight, you would card fingers through the tangles in his hair as he lays his upper body limp and racks with soft sobs across your lap.

Tonight, you think you will unmake the left side of the bed.

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