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depravity-n-savagery · 2 years

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『 Heartstrings 』

♪ Pairing: Eddie Munson x (Fem)Reader

♪ Summary: Watching Eddie play guitar has always gotten a rise out of you. Today, it drives you crazy enough to show just what you've been imagining.

♪ Word Count: 1.8k

♪ CW: Smut, hand kink, oral (m receiving), cockworship, Eddie worship, BALLS, sub!Reader, soft dom!Eddie, musician kink?, lots of dirty talk, praise kink, very soft degradation

🛑 18+ MINORS DNI 🛑

♪ A/N: This was definitely inspired by a fantasy I had after watching the video of Joseph Quinn playing guitar. (And a mixture of experiences from dating guitarists in the past). I hope you enjoy ♡

I have to be the luckiest bitch in the world.

You had to chuckle to yourself as you thought it. Eddie would scold you for calling yourself that. Even with all the things he'd call you during the heat of passion. My little slut, whore, fucktoy… But bitch was something he'd never allow himself to call you. It actually made you smile.

The metalhead in question was in a world of his own. Standing across the room from where you sat on a rickety hand-me-down lawn chair. His fingers working their way up and down the neck of his guitar, warming up. Something you could watch him do for hours.

You couldn't pass up the opportunity, when he complained about having nowhere to practice when his uncle was home. Although his uncle never complained about the noise. When it came to him, Eddie tried to be considerate. So you provided a solution. "You can use my basement." From then on he would come over whenever he wanted to play, glad to have the bonus of a one-person audience.

You were becoming his number one fan.

It almost made you feel guilty for having an ulterior motive. One you were surprised he hasn't caught on to yet. Eddie strummed the rhythm to a song you didn't recognize, pinching his guitar pick between his fingers. The movements really brought out his rings. How they caught the light's reflection, turning and twisting. Those hands.

Something about watching him play always got you hot and bothered. Maybe it was his big hands, and the way he played with so much intensity you could see his veins. Fingers moving with so much speed and precision, you could only imagine what they'd do buried inside your pussy. Plus, talent and dedication is always attractive. He put so much heart into it. Making music that had you flabbergasted when he mentioned how little recognition it got.

Like right now. The tune he played sounded original. Heavy, and fast paced. Something you could never see yourself gaining enough skill to replicate. This golden man made it seem light work. He pulled back on one of the strings with a grunt, propping his foot up on the amp so he could easily scale the frets. His eyes weren't even focused on his hand's movements. They were directed at the ceiling, letting his head comfortably lean backwards while he chewed a piece of gum. God, it had you shifting in your seat.

The floor was cold, even through your tight black jeans, but you endured it to get on all fours. Quietly as you could, you crawled toward your boyfriend, careful not to grab his attention just yet. The music had him in a trance. Shaking out his long chestnut locks. You were love-struck in his presence every time.

"I can see you." He said, probably catching you in his peripheral vision. "What'cha doin' down there, princess?" Those fingers kept working their magic, egging you on. Seducing you into mischief like a devil on your shoulder.

"I wanted to get a closer look." Not a complete lie. You sat on your heels, right at his feet and it felt so right. Being so far beneath him that he'd have to look down to see you. Casting his shadow over you.

Content with your answer, he just shrugged and continued. You noticed a little extra flair in the way he handled his precious guitar. Stroking the neck in a way reminiscent of how he'd pump his fist around his cock. Cotton-mouthed, you swallowed looking to relieve your dry throat - no dice. It felt like forcing sandpaper down a tube.

The intrusive thoughts told you to open your mouth wide, and tell Eddie to spit in it. You weren't that bold yet. Just bold enough to reach out with both hands and start caressing his leg through his jeans (the leg that wasn't bent and supporting his weight on the amp). There was a nice little space behind his guitar, right over his crotch. The best seat in the house. He had to be on to you now, judging by the way his cock twitched when you ran your hands over it.

"Princess?" Finally his eyes were on you. Center stage, front row seat. A grin pulled at the corner of his lips. "I can stop playing if you need a little attention."

He was all wrong about what you needed. It didn't matter to you if he gave you attention in this moment. You preferred it when he didn't. When he gave himself over fully to his music. What you wanted was to please him. To act on your idolatry. "No, keep going." You said, snaking your hands behind his guitar to unbuckle his belt. "Don't mind me."

A few seconds went by before he resumed his strumming, probably connecting the dots in his head. An off-key note came through the amp as his body jerked. Your fingertips grazed against his happy trail. Oops. The tune changed to something more familiar. A song he could play simply by muscle memory.

Usually you were the kind to tease. Edging and testing the waters to see how far you could go before he snapped and set you straight. Today just wasn't a day for bratty behavior. So you wasted no time, tugging his pants and boxers down until he had to kick them off his ankles. His cock sprang free, making a soft thump against the back of his guitar. He was already halfway hard from you palming him and playing with his happy trail. It made your mouth water, finally bringing back some moisture. You'll need it for what's coming.

Eddie's breath hitched, feeling your fingers wrap around him. Stroking his cock until it stood at full attention. He had to adjust the position of his guitar, making room for you as you ducked your head under and behind the guitar. Almost immediately you began licking up the full length of him. From the balls, up to the leaky tip. Your tongue circled the head of his cock, spreading his precum around before taking it (just the tip) between your lips in a sloppy kiss.

"Fucking Christ, Y/n-" Eddie gasped above you, knees buckling. You took a firm hold of his thighs, trying to help steady him. Ohhh the sounds! Between his soft groaning and the sloppy wet sounds of you making out with his tip, you were in heaven. Savoring the taste of him. You let the weight of his guitar push the back of your head, as if it were his hand in your hair. Guiding him further into the warm wet heat of your mouth.

Pure bliss. The feeling of his cock twitching at the back of your throat before you pulled back. A string of saliva hanging from your lip. It looked so pretty. Worthy of a man as beautiful as Eddie. You hummed, dipping down nuzzle those spit coated lips into his sack.

He was missing enough notes to give up on the action altogether. Lifting the guitar strap over his head and carefully placing the instrument to the side. It made you whine in protest - the sound vibrating against his balls. "Ohh shit, shit shit-" Cursing under his breath. "You like that? You like the taste of my balls?" His hips stirred and pushed forward, rubbing his balls (and your saliva) all over your face. His cock resting on your forehead. "You're so fucking dirty."

For him, of course you were. Nodding your head obediently. "Please, Eddie." You begged, kissing the soft creased skin. "Fuck my mouth."

The man was used to being dominant when it came to you, but he's never seen you this submissive before. Although he honestly loved eating you out - and would do it for hours if you let him - he never expected the same enthusiasm for sucking him off. He was under the impression that you only did it to be fair to him, so he never really pushed for it. Now here you were. Worshiping him in ways that had him ready to burst. "Sweet girl… What did I do to deserve this?" He said it with a chuckle, but he was genuinely curious. Whatever he did, he wanted to remember so he could keep doing it.

"Breathe." You responded without a second thought. Smiling as you looked up at him, eyes sparkling with adoration. Borderline obsession. Since you were being so good for him, he decided to give you what you want. Grabbing a fistful of your hair and pushing his cock between your plump lips. You tucked your lips, careful not to graze him with your teeth, as he started thrusting. Slowly at first. Testing the limits of your gag reflex.

So far so good. Inhaling deeply through your nose, you let your tongue rub the underside of his shaft. "Good girl. Just like that." He moaned, clenching his fist in your hair. The pace of his hips increased. Good girl. Those words of praise had you swooning. Drool spilling from the corner of your mouth while he used you. Chasing that release. "You're being sooo good for me, baby. I'm so proud."

To be his anything was all you ever wanted. From the moment you first saw him with his band Corroded Coffin. Flipping his tousled hair over his shoulder while he ripped into a guitar solo. You approached him after their set and the rest was history. The two of you have been inseparable.

Your lips were meeting the base of him, taking him completely. His eyes rolled back as he kept fucking into your mouth. Hips stuttering when he felt himself getting closer and closer. He was gonna blow his load any second now, and you could feel it too. Lifting a hand to cup and massage his balls.

"I'm cumming, Y/n! Fuck, I'm gonna cum down that pretty little throat!" The words barely finished leaving his lips when he erupted. Spasming and grabbing both sides of your head so he could mindless stuff himself into your face. The tangy, thick substance filled your mouth so much you were worried you might choke. Eddie felt the resistance and released you, letting you swallow and catch your breath.

A comfortable silence hung in the air, giving you both time to regain your composure. It took him a bit longer to recover. The amp, left on in the heat of the moment, came in handy as a spot for him to sit. His legs weren't stable enough to keep standing.

As much as you loved having him loom over you, it made you happy to be close to him again. To see his eyes light up when he looked at you. Noticing the post-orgasm flush in his cheeks. He leaned forward, kissing your forehead and then your lips. "Goddamn, princess. All that, just from watching me play guitar?"

"What do you think started my crush on you in the first place?" Now it was your turn to blush.

Eddie chuckled, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. "So I guess I shouldn't show you the trick where I play it with my tongue, huh?"

Holy mother of God. This man was going to be the death of you.

♪ A/N: When I tell you, writing this fic had me asking my roommate at 3am (he plays guitar) about the physics of being able to suck dick while someone is playing guitar 🤣🤣. Yall can't say I'm not dedicated.

Ao3, Masterlist ☆

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #stranger things smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic

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theresattrpgforthat · 1 year

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games about pro wrestling?

THEME: Pro Wrestling

Hello there friend, I sure do have you covered! Get ready for some signature moves, trash-talking drama, and some of the flashiest costumes out there!

World Wide Wrestling: Second Edition, by Nathan D. Paoletta.

Welcome to World Wide Wrestling: Second Edition! This award-winning game of professional wrestling action enables you to create your own professional wrestling franchise through play, showcasing satisfying and surprising storylines. It’s about feuds, championships, betrayal, and righteous victory. It’s about the clash of good and evil on the grandest stage. It’s about whether you’ve got what it takes. And, in the end, it’s about what the audience thinks of your efforts.

InWorld Wide Wrestling, Creative (the GM role) sets up the show, orders the card and books the matches ahead of time. The players choose archtypical pro wrestling Gimmicks, like the Monster, the Veteran, the Luchador, and so on as the base for their character. Wrestlers play through what Creative has planned, but they have the ability and autonomy to pursue their own feuds, set up their own matches and swerve Creative's booking. Creative's job is to make it look like that was the plan all along. Characters are the wrestler as a professional; this means that you play out both their on-screen costumed persona, and their backstage efforts to maintain and progress their careers (and the ways the two effect each other).

This game has a stellar reputation: it’s been edited thoroughly and is reported to have some of the best GM advice for folks who want to learn how to run Powered by the Apocalypse games. Because it’s designed to emulate a very niche piece of media, the game comes with a lot of structure to guide your players through tournaments, backstage arguments, and character storylines that highly encourage personal growth and change. I highly recommend this game.

What’s So Cool About Lucha Libre?, by Color Spray Games.

You are a técnico, a wrestler who fights for the common folk. As an honorable luchador, you wear an iconic mask and fight evil wherever it arises. It is your sworn duty to oppose any rudo who serves evil causes. As a luchador you're equal parts wrestler and superhero. Sometimes you wrestle rudos in the ring; sometimes you wrestle vampires in Hell or aliens in outer space. How? That mask you wear es mágica. It gives you special powers and lets you see beyond El Mundo Viviente, the world we live in, to perceive El Mundo Espiritual - the world of spirits, monsters, and gods.

What's So Cool About Lucha Libre? is a rules-lite RPG for 1 GM and 1 or more players. It's a Borderpunk game, which means it blends Mexican-American culture and media with themes of social justice and political activism. Don the mask of a superheroic wrestler and prepare to fight for justice and oppose evil wherever it arises.

I’m intrigued by the intention behind the design of this game. The document is partially written in English and in Spanish, but in such a way that it shouldn’t provide any barriers to English Speakers (Google Translate is great if you’re really stuck). It’s a love letter to bilingual speakers.

The game system is built off of the What’s So Cool…? System designed by Jared Sinclair, which relies a simple but descriptive character creation. Advantages and disadvantages will provide both narrative and mechanical details: will you get to use your Signature Style? Did you get injured recently? There’s also a great move called El Super Ataque that requires no rolls but gives you a one time, superheroic success! If you want a pro wrestling ttrpg that amps the action up to 11 and pits you against werewolves, zombie cops, evil scientists and more, you should absolutely check out this game!

One Wrestling Ring to Rule Them All, by Dice Capital.

There is a centre to the universe, with a canvas floor and ring ropes.

One Wrestling Ring to Rule Them All is a 24-page, fully illustrated tabletop RPG, where players take on the role of pro Wrestlers and fight for the audience's amusement.

You'll improvise narrative hooks and events to bring to a climax in the ring with all the combo powerbombs and flying dropkicks you can muster! All the while Wrestlers will have to manage their Kayfabe, to stay committed to their role while not injuring their fellow performers.

The game comes with sheets for The Wrestlers, The Ref (the game's equivalent of a Game Master), and also papercraft to create miniature wrestlers and a wrestling ring.

This game cares very much about the audience, with an Audience Score that will drop unless the wrestlers make sure to be as entertaining as possible. If the Audience Score drops to Zero, you’ll hit an immediate game over - the match is so uninteresting, the audience just gets up and leaves! If you’re looking for a game that focuses on the entertainment of pro-wrestling more than on winning a fight, and if you want resources that help the uninitiated learn more about the world of Pro-Wrestling as they play, this is a great option to check out.

The Flexorcists, by kumada1.

It started in the late year 200X. Ghosts, demons, and other occult forces grew resistant to conventional exorcisms. Minor possessions, the kind that would previously have been resolved with a sprinkle of holy water and a few minutes of half-hearted praying, suddenly became multiple-hour-long, life-or-death ordeals.

Major possessions swallowed entire townships and broke holy men. Worse, the unspoken rule that a possessing force had to operate only through the local environment became snapped and frayed. Possessors could now manifest physically, and they were extremely swole. Thus, the world entered a new age of banishments. Gone were the days when any reedy man could cast out a demon. Fighting the supernatural was now a job for…

The Flexorcists.

The Flexorcists is a 23 page tabletop rpg about pro-wrestlers working a side-gig where they banish ghosts, stake draculas, and powerbomb creatures from lagoons. It’s a great combination of stat-based strengths that make your characters competent, and descriptive Gimmicks that make your character interesting and unique. One of my favourite things in this book is your Signature Move, which you can use a three-part set of roll tables to generate if you don’t know where to start!

For Game Masters, there’s a list of clients, locations, and paranormal pests to draw inspiration from. There’s also a step-by-step guide to help you figure out how to run a job - accompanied with some hilarious art that makes this game all the more enjoyable to read. If you want some funky fun that is guaranteed to get you coming up with the most over-the-top scenarios possible, this is absolutely worth checking out!

Games I’ve Recommended in the Past

Try Not To Wrestle, by Hark Forsooth Games.

#dnd #game recommendations #pro wrestling #tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #asks

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better--oblivions · 2 years

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I GOTTA GIVE IT TO YOU (You Give Me Problems)

You've been friends with Eddie for a while now, and you've made your mind up to do something about it. You were willing to play nice, too, but then Eddie leaves you hanging too long after a Hellfire session. You have no choice but to make your displeasure known - and your pleasure felt.

18+ only, porn with exceedingly minimal plot, sub!Eddie MunsonxReader, 4.5k words(ish) Huge shout-out to @eravanaaaah for this stunninggggg header and for listening to me ramble before I actually wrote this. I owe you my life. Check out this song for vibes.

October, 1985

You know it’s impractical. You were aiming for an outfit that proclaimed Debbie Harry cool-girl chic, but Midwestern winters make no allowances for fashion. So now you’re forced to wrap your arms across your chest, hands stuck gracelessly under your armpits. You stamp the ground like an irritated pony, and then kick the van wheel for good measure. Eddie promised he’d be done with D&D by nine. It’s quarter past. Ordinarily, you’d cut your losses and go home. You never wait for a boy for more than fifteen minutes. But you’ve gone to the effort tonight, crimped your hair and sacrificed warmth for a short dress better suited to summer, torn tights and military boots.

You could always skip out on Eddie. You could try your luck with a fake ID, go to a bar and let someone’s older brother buy you a beer. That’s what you were doing the first time you heard Corroded Coffin play, the wailing guitars and insistent drum spurring you on long after the amps had been packed away. Then, Eddie had the frontman glow that made him seem just on the border of unobtainable. It was that challenge which made you seek him out and tell him that, despite being the opener, his band was your favourite. Your forthright nature had collided head-on with his cocky attitude, and you left halfway through the next band’s set after Eddie called you a groupie. Alright, so it was a weird beginning to a friendship. And you’re about to make things a whole lot weirder, just as soon as Eddie meets you at his van, like he promised.

“Shit, dude, I am so sorry!”

Eddie even makes a show of jogging over to you, ducking his head as he reaches the van. Your eyebrow arches, mouth turned down in an expression of severe displeasure.

“How sorry?”

“Uh, double pepperoni pizza sorry? Large, with jalapeños.”

Even the mention of your pizza order, and the implied promise of free food, doesn’t change the fact you can’t feel your own nose right now. You sniff, as if to make this point. “Your treachery goes beyond pizza, Munson. Way, way beyond.”

“Aw, come on, don’t bitch me out, I swear it’s not my fault.”

“If this excuse includes the words paladin, nat 20, or dice, I will kill you here and now.”

Eddie has the decency to look apologetic, at least, rubbing his hand over the back of his neck and shrugging at you. There’s a pause, where you’re looking at him while he looks at the space by your shoulder, and you wonder how long you can keep up torturing him. But the wind sends leaves skittering over the ground like animals, and your skirt flutters against your legs. You take a presumptive step towards the passenger side of the van, and look back at Eddie over your shoulder.

“The pizza place closes in, like, twenty minutes. You better put your foot to the metal if you’re planning on getting me my apology.”

Back at Eddie’s trailer, you sit on the couch with your legs stretched out. It’s largely a tactical decision, because the dress you’re wearing turned out to be more of a standing up outfit than a sitting down one, and you’re conscious of the way it rides up your thighs. The fiery bravado with which you’d tugged on torn tights and summer dress earlier in the evening has now spluttered into more of a kindling of defiance, and even that is growing dim. Eddie kicks the door shut behind him, arms full of pizza and bottles of coke and a tub of ice-cream.

“Y’know, I’m not sure that being twenty minutes late is worth this much food,” he calls out as he tries to slide the load onto the already crowded counter.

“You’re right,” you’re leaning your neck back against the couch, so roll your head slightly to the side to make sure he’s in your view when you open your eyes. “It’s definitely deserving of greater penance.”

“Get off my ass, already!” The famous Munson temper rears its head, Eddie’s voice rising as he grips the counter. The sudden change in volume makes you jump, your limbs jerking like a puppet after its strings are cut. It’s embarrassing, and worse, it makes Eddie slump forward on his arms with a hang-dog expression.

“Sorry. I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m such an asshole.” He tugs his hand through his hair, and you grit your teeth. This is part of your friendship; there’s the shared music taste and the in-jokes and the stupid nicknames, but then there’s the moodswings, the arguments. You wish, sometimes, that there wasn’t. But the truth is that you’re friends with each other because nobody else in this dumb little town is as impulsive, as excited, as interesting. So what if you’re both motormouths who get on each other’s nerves? At least you understand that about each other, which is more than you can say for everyone else in Hawkins.

“Me too. Alright, so we’re assholes together. Cancels out, right? It’s, uh, algebra. Or chemistry.” You stand from the couch and make your way to the counter. Eddie’s still half bent over the pizza boxes, and you bump into him with your shoulder. “If I find one of your hairs in my pizza, I’ll give you a buzz cut. Again.”

He tries to form a smile. You watch as he does his best to pull himself back into place, to be the court jester and not the sad boy. You both hate raised voices; it reminds you of fuck-up fathers and short-tempered lovers. Of course, that doesn’t stop either of you from resorting to yelling. You rest your palm against his forearm, knowing that beneath his leather jacket the muscles will be coiled tight.

“Hey, come on. Stop being a sad sack of shit and pick a movie. I had to flirt with Steve Harrington to get him to rent me three tapes at once. They’re like goddamn Kommandants at Family Video, I swear to God.”

Eddie seems as tense as a strung bow, holding himself still for a moment longer before relenting. He doesn’t shrug off your touch, but you release him anyway, so he can check out the VHS tapes you’ve been lugging around in your bag all evening.

“Sure, what’s the selection tonight?”

“For your pleasure and delectation, Master Munson -” you suck in a breath as his eyes flick over you. It’s only after you start tugging at your skirt that you feel like an idiot, and then revert to smoothing it down with your palms. “We have your first contender: a film straight from London, starring Timothy Dalton and Twiggy. It’s got Victorian British people, it’s got grave robbing, it’s got a perfectly acceptable run-time of one hour and thirty-three minutes.”

“Alright, alright. Grave-robbing Brits. What else?”

“If Burke and Hare don’t tickle your fancy, we’ve got - actually great question, what have we got?” You cross the space between the kitchen and the living room and drop to your knees, pulling the second video out of your bag and flipping it so you can read the back. “Charley Brewster is a normal, average teenager living with his divorced mother in the suburbs. One evening, Charley looks out his window and sees his new neighbors moving in the next door who appear to be carrying what looks like a coffin.” You look up from the synopsis on the back of the tape, waiting for Eddie’s reaction.

“Vampires, classic. Okay. And the final option?”

You set aside the Fright Night video and reach into your bag for the last of your picks, holding it up for Eddie to see. “Xtro.”

“Xtro.” He repeats.

“Yes?”

“The same Xtro we watched three weeks ago and which you got so stoned during that you fell asleep and left me to sit through alone?”

You glance between Eddie and the tape in your hand. “Huh. No wonder it looked familiar.”

“Christ sake, sugar, this whole movie thing was meant to improve your taste, not pollute mine with campy horror and shitty sci-fi.”

“You like sci-fi!” Indignation forces your voice up an octave, and you gesture with the video to emphasise your point.

“I like good sci-fi, not this shit!”

You’re back to bickering over the merits of your choices, which means that Eddie is back to normal and your evening is back on track. You breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that Eddie will interpret it as part of your current debate, and relax into the familiar routine.

You’re halfway through Fright Night, (“A compromise,” Eddie said, somehow still attractive despite sneering at the video), when you notice it. The majority of the plot has escaped you, because Eddie skinned up a joint during the opening credits and you demanded he share. Blanketed in the soft, cozy high, with pizza boxes abandoned in front of you and the smell of Eddie’s cologne seeping into your thoughts, while his arm rests casually over the back of the sofa, you’re aware that right now you’re almost painfully close to his warm skin. You lean against him, your full weight, allowing your eyes to shut for a moment. Before he can complain at being left to watch a movie alone, you force yourself upright and grab the remote to press pause.

“Hey, what’re you doing? You kidding me?” Even the sound of his irritation doesn’t phase you.

“You don’t even like this movie, shut up.” And then, because you can feel him building up to a rant about how you smoke too much and get too high, you carry on. “You know something, Eddie? You’re cute. How come we’ve been friends for so long and you never made a move on me?” Your hands trail over his chest as you pull back to look at him. He’s sitting very, very still.

“Sugar, you’re high-”

“I said, shut up.” You tug on his hair to emphasise your point, because so what if you’re high? So is he.

“You asked me a question.”

“You got an answer?” You watch as he bites his lip, your focus entirely on his mouth as heat slowly grows between your legs. This is the real reason you dressed like Debbie Harry tonight, and the reason you waited for him to finish his D&D session, and the reason you couldn’t finish the pizza you ordered. Because you promised yourself that tonight, you’d tell Eddie how you felt. You just needed a little green courage beforehand.

“Because we’re friends. I’m not just trying to get into your pants. Gimme some credit, I can be friends with girls without trying to score.”

“What if a girl was trying to score with you?”

Eddie meets your gaze, and you’re delighted by the pink blush spreading across his features. You watch as his gaze dips down to your mouth and back up to your eyes, a smile slowly pulling at your lips.

“Are you?” His voice is all uncertainty; raspy and whispered. It doesn’t matter if his pupils are blown wide from the weed or the moment, because he looks so fucking pretty. It’s this thought that orchestrates your next move, along with the haze cloaking your brain in warmth, and the fact that you’ve been imagining variations of this since you met Eddie. You slide into his lap, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders. Through the thin fabric of his Hellfire tee, you can feel the muscles roll under his skin as his hands cover your waist.

“Okay, this is happening,” he mumbles it to himself, and you feel your smile growing. At this angle, he’s forced to look up at you for once, and you enjoy the sight. You enjoy it so much that you can feel your arousal growing already, half of your consciousness pulled down towards the slick sensation between your legs.

“Okay?”

He’s worrying at his lip again, and you reach out, swiping your thumb over his lower lip and stopping him before he makes it bleed. With the pad of your thumb pressed up against his mouth, you can feel the shaky breath he releases before he nods.

“Good.” Before, with boyfriends, you accepted their disjointed fumbles. You’d lie on your back and stare at their popcorn ceiling while they pressed insistently at the flesh of your thigh, sticking their tongue into your mouth. Here, perched in Eddie’s lap with his lips slowly parting around your thumb, you feel a prickle climb up your spine which is utterly new and which wipes clean any lingering doubt from your mind.

When you lean down and replace your thumb with your mouth, you feel Eddie press up against you. His hands grip the divot of your waist, his chin tilted up to get the best angle. You can feel him adjusting how he’s sitting beneath you, and you tense your legs against him. Kissing Eddie is like everything you imagined it would be, right down to the way you tuck his hair behind his ears and tangle your fingers in the curls by the nape of his neck. A noise catches in his throat, and you pull back from the kiss. You hadn’t really planned past the point where you got your lips on his, impulsive as ever, but now he reaches up and pulls you down to deepen the kiss again. His tongue flicks behind your teeth and you imagine it over the shell of your ear, your neck, between your breasts and lower still. It makes you grind down against him, the fabric of his jeans rough against your tights. In response, he matches your rhythm. He groans into your open mouth and you smile around the sound, finally pulling away.

He breathes out your name, reaching up to caress your cheek, but you grab his hand and tangle your fingers together, forcing him to lower his arm. He tilts his head, and you squeeze your thighs against him.

“I didn’t figure this was how you liked to do it.”

“And?”

“And, fuck.” He stops himself, eyes fluttering shut while you rock against the hard length under his jeans.

“We could.”

You’re not sure whose idea it was, but you’re glad to lose your tights. Eddie is still beneath you, lying on the floor of the trailer’s living room while you straddle him. He presses his lips to the inside of your thigh, and you feel yourself pulsing in answer. Even though his face is obscured by the skirt of your dress, you can picture the self-satisfied look on his face and it makes you buck your hips in anticipation. That, and the fact you can feel his hot breath creeping up towards your panties. His hands cradle your ass as you try to slide your knees apart, eager to feel his mouth on you. When it finally comes, you feel him pressing open-mouthed, desperate kisses through the material of your underwear.

“So goddamn wet,” he mumbles against you, and you know he’s pleased. You could reach back and palm him through his jeans, but you don’t want to. This is your victory, and you’re claiming it. You’re going to claim it all night long. This isn’t like kissing Eddie, which was exactly as you planned and as delicious as you envisioned. This is off-script, this is hedonistic, this is all warm fire in your veins and ice sliding down your spine. You don’t care that you’re squirming on Eddie’s face on the floor of his uncle’s trailer, you don’t mind the half-formed noises that are escaping your mouth.

In fact, you’re pretty sure Eddie is enjoying the moans tumbling past your lips. Because he swirls his tongue over your clit, through your underwear, and then laps against you with flat, broad strokes. Each time he flicks past your clit, it sends another jolt of pleasure through your body, and you tangle your hands into his hair to keep him in place as you circle your hips. When he pulls away, the cold air mingles with the wetness and makes you shiver. He flips up your skirt, peering up at you to ask for permission as his hands play with the waistband of your panties. In a wordless reply, you pull your dress over your head.

“Fuck, no bra? Slut.”

“Bold words from the man with his face in my cunt,” you parry.

“Technically, my face is in your panties, sugar. But your wish is my command.”

“Then take them off.” You look down at him while he quirks an eyebrow, his quick, calloused fingers tugging at the waistband. “With your teeth,” you clarify.

There’s a pause where you think he might not, but then he wiggles his shoulders and returns his hands to your ass to get the angle right. The nip of his teeth against your skin as he gains purchase against the flimsy fabric sends another surge of arousal through you. You take over yourself, pulling them off and shoving them away before pushing him back down.

“More.”

Without the barrier between his tongue and your skin, the sensations are greater. Each time he presses against your clit, you shudder. He looks devoted, staring up at you as you move against his mouth, his rhythm switching up at the perfect moment to urge you onward. First, he’s slow, kissing your clit and delicately flicking his tongue to taste inside, but he picks up the pace and coaxes you onwards with insistence. There’s a pressure growing at the base of your skull, your thoughts completely blank, all your focus centring on the warmth of his mouth against you. The movement of your hips becomes erratic, and you’re worried about hurting him but not enough to stop. As if reading your mind, he grips you with firm hands and pulls you down into his touch, the press of his tongue tipping you into climax. When you cum, it’s like stars burst behind your vision. He doesn’t stop as your hips slow, but he matches your rhythm as you climb down from the blank slate of pleasure he brought you to. The sight of him, with wetness and spit smeared over his mouth and chin, his eyes impossibly dark, makes you throb.

By the time you actually make it to his bedroom, he’s finally shed his clothes and you’re aching to feel him inside you. Naked and sweaty despite the growing chill in the trailer, he pulls you towards him.

“We don’t have to - like, I can spend the rest of the night with you riding my face and I’ll be fucking grateful. If you’d prefer.”

You trail your nails against his skin, over his erect nipples and down towards his cock. You follow the trail of hair, watching as he twitches in anticipation. You pause for just a second before you take him in your hand, tightening your grip and swiping your thumb over the head of his cock. He hisses, eyes narrowing.

“I’d prefer you inside me.”

The bones in your hand jump as he twitches again, but he makes no move towards the bed. You meet his gaze and realise, with shock and pleasure, that he’s waiting for you to order him. You’ve dated boys who liked it the other way; they’d tell you to get on your knees, or to open wide, thrusting into you with haphazard, selfish strokes. You never considered turning the tables so completely. But why not? You started this, after all, and Eddie’s been happy enough to follow your lead. Is it really such a shock that he’s bending to your will now? A smile grows on your mouth and you release him from your grip, only to push him roughly to the mattress.

“You’re going to lie down, and I’m gonna ride you,” you inform him.

“Please.” You’re not sure if he meant it to come out like a whine, but it does and you like it.

“But first I want to watch you.” You stand in his room, in a halo of trailer park lights seeping through the blinds, and it would be surreal if not for the very real sound of his mattress creaking as he angles himself. He’s pressed up against the wall, one hand loosely around his cock, his eyes still on you.

“You think about me?”

He nods.

“You think about doing this with me?”

He nods again.

“Say it.”

“I think about doing this with you.”

“Good. Show me what you do when you think about doing this with me.”

He starts slow, his eyes still on you as he strokes up and down the length of his shaft. He angles his hips upwards, the sheen of sweat over his skin making him look like something otherworldly. The low light accentuates the shadows of his jaw, his nose, the space where his hips stand out sharp against the flat plains of his body. The dark mound of hair that spreads out over his thighs and across his torso are in sharp contrast with his pale skin and the freckles you know are littered across his arms and shoulders. As he speeds up, his whines become open-mouthed, breathy moans. You want to hear that sound in your ear. You want him under you, inside you, you want to crowd his senses and hear him sighing out your name. The sound of his arousal goes straight to your core, and you lose patience.

“Put a condom on.”

“Huh?”

“Condom. Now.”

He scrambles for the bedside table, pulling out a condom and sliding it over his cock as you finally approach the bed. It’s not just the sight and sound of him; it’s the knowledge that he’s thought about this too. He’s imagined you, and you’ve imagined him imagining you. Distantly, you’re aware of the desire to know how many times, how often, what exactly he pictures when he touches himself. But those are questions for later. Right now, he’s waiting for you to ride him.

When you slide down on him, he chokes out a curse that you can’t make out. It’s half swallowed as he fists the bedsheets., his brow furrowing. You stroke his cheek, slowly adjusting to the feeling of him. He’s stretching you out in the most sublime way, you can feel him pressing into you and you know he’s doing his best to hold back from moving while you settle against his length.

“You’re so good, Eddie,” you croon at him and he looks at you with hopeful, agonised eyes. “So good. You’re perfect.”

“Yeah?” He breathes the question out as you tilt forward, pressing a hungry kiss to his mouth. You can still taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and you want to lick every last part from him. You fantasise that you can taste his eagerness, his pleasure, mixed with the physical proof of your own. As you do, you start to rock against him. It’s like when you made out on the coach but now you can feel the velvety heat of his cock inside you, his skin pressing against yours. His hands are on your shoulders as you writhe on top of him, experimenting to find the best rhythm. As you slot against each other, he bends his knees and grants you better access. The angle is transcendent, and you move now with certainty. He follows your lead, copying your rhythm as you pull pleasure with every movement of your hips. You don’t care about the animal sounds coming out of your mouth, but you’re getting close to the edge with the noises Eddie makes. He sighs and groans, muttering half-words and curses.

“Let me hear you.”

He increases the volume, his moans deep and panting. You tighten your muscles in response, and it urges him on, louder. Every time his breath catches and he shudders against you, you echo him with your own encouraging sounds. The way he smiles is charming, even now while he’s trying not to cum and swallowing down his own gasps. You grip his chin in your hand, kissing him hard enough to bruise as your hips slam together. And then you trail kisses and bites past his mouth and to his jaw, down the column of his neck and onto the skin of his shoulder. The hickey that you leave is a raw, royal purple, and you clench at the sight of it when you pull away.

“I’m gonna cum,” Eddie sounds hoarse as he says it, and you slow your pace slightly. “Please don’t stop, fuck, goddamn, please.”

“Cum for me, Eddie.” There’s a hallucinatory edge to the pleasure that’s been building, and you know that you’re close too. “I want you to cum for me and I want to hear you say it’s for me. Say it. Say it for me.”

“I’m cumming for you,” Eddie stutters out between gritted teeth as his hips jacknife upwards. You press back down against him, losing yourself into the depth of the feeling as you both chase your climaxes. When he comes, he makes a strangled noise that urges you towards your peak. You yelp as it cuts through you, hot and cold and fierce and shaking as your muscles tighten and relax in rapid succession. Eddie holds you as you shudder out the end of your orgasm, peppering your slick skin with delicate kisses.

Afterwards, you’re lying in a tangle of limbs and bemoaning the cold pizza you left on the other side of the trailer.

“There’s no pleasing you,” Eddie groans, dragging a hand over his face.

“That’s not true. I was very, very happy just now.” You say it because it’s true, and also to watch the pink glow climb from Eddie’s chest to the tips of his ears.

“Yeah, well. That’s what happens when you’re in charge, I guess.” He flips onto his side, one calloused finger mapping the freckles and scars and stretch marks over your skin. “You know, I always knew you were fuckin’ bossy, but I never thought you’d be like it in the sack. I should’ve known. You’re a straight-up ball buster.”

“And you liked it, so what does that say about you, bitch boy?”

“That I’m your bitch boy?”

You’re not sure how he makes it a question, or how he can call himself a bitch while looking devilishly delighted at the prospect. But you dig your nails into his muscular arm and pull him closer, claiming his mouth with yours while he hovers over you.

“That’s fuckin’ right,” you grin. “You’re mine.”

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson

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monicole-art · 1 year

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Ranger : Golden Age - An Enamel Pin Set

We're funded on Kickstarter yall! Go check it out and help us unlock some more stretch goals!

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ithirealdice · 7 months

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One of my most popular earring designs! These are my Gelly Cube earrings! They’re based off of the gelatinous cube from D&D, and I make them with six different face types.

I have a couple pairs of each face type left in my shop, so go check them out if you want a pair! I don’t tend to make them frequently.

They also each come with a small adoption card outlining their names, likes and dislikes. 🥰

#ttrpg community #dungeons and dragons #ttrpg #dnd #handmade #earrings #jewelry #gelatinous cube #dnd5e #dnd stuff #ttrpg stuff #cute earrings #so cute #handmade earrings #halloween earrings #polymer clay earrings #polymer clay

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bluepecanpie · 2 years

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One Piece 1059 review

Damn! A lot happened in this one. Got me asking all kinds of questions, but at least some are resolved.

Apparently Yamato didn’t join because they realised that without Kaido as a a deterent, powerful opponents like Ryokugyu will run up on the place. I said before, I’m not really amped over Yamato not joining, and this still feels like a yank on the chain, but it’s as good an explanation as you’re going to get. Even better, Marco is still getting calls to return to piracy, from the Red Hairs no less. He, of course declines, since he’s too old (46?) for that pirate mess. It’s an interesting callback to when Shanks met Whitebeard, so I guess that scene was actually a serious requst. Or maybe just this one is.

We got an exchange from Luffy and Marco that we’ve been waiting for, when Luffy finally gets to thank Marco for saving him. Marco says to Jimbei that there was something about Luffy that made him seem special, and says to Luffy himself that Ace would be proud. Aww. I don’t think that’s it’s acknowledged that Luffy far surpasses Ace now, and he even did what Ace could never do - beat Kaido.

Though sometime after Luffy got his ass kicked by Kaido, and was in prison, The Marines were organising the capture of Boa Hancock in Amazon Lily. Here was me thinking that they were absolute dumbasses for antagonising them straight away even with the SSG. But lo and behold: the SSG actually came through with their mad science with the Seraphim: the speculated new class of Pacifista which apparently mixes the DNA Lineage Factor of the Lunarians with at least two of the Shichibukai: Mihawk and Hancock herself. Even if was just the Marines and the Kuja even if the latter won, they would’ve taken a beating.

Due to the best and worst luck, this conflict is interrupted by the timely arrival of Yonko Admiral Marshall D. Teach aka Blackbeard. It turns out it was this he was looking for - the Mero Mero no Mi ability of Boa Hancock. Unprepared, for having to tangle with a Yonko, Vice-Admiral Yamakaji refuses to engage until HQ confirms it, and with Teach’s Gura Gura no Mi powers, he flows the fleet away, and crumbles the entrance to Amazon Lily hollering Hancock’s name. Though even Teach is surprised by the strength of the Seraphim (the one based on Mihawk in particular that can slash a mountain in two).

Hancock ain’t about to wait to get captured so she jumps into action and turns the invading Marines and Blackbeard Pirates, including the commanders - Vasco Shot and Catarina Devon into stone. She sets her eyes on Koby to do the same, but the gets caught into Blackbeard’s chokehold nullifying her powers. Blackbeard tells her that her fruit power is something that he’s coveted, but Hancock says that the reason why it’s so powerful is because of her beauty - but warns against killing her if he wants any of those turned to stone revived since the new owner can’t undo the spell. Blackbeard coyly asks Koby what he should do since they both have a history, and his reported heroics at the “Rocky Port Incident” ended up with Blackbeard supplanting Ochoku for control of Hachinosu Island. Koby says that he also wants his men restored, and wants as minimal casualties as possible. Hancock would only agree to restore everyone if they promise to leave her island. But this is no dice for Blackbeard, surmising that thesecond he lets go, he might be turned into stone, judging that its better off to kill Hancock.

In comes the real King of Darkness Silvers Rayleigh. Basically lays down the terms: Release Hancock and everyone gets to walk off the island, provided there’s no bullshit. He later admits to itself that he was only able to make that happen based on his reputation, and he might not be able to clash with Blackbeard head on anymore as he’s well past his prime. Shakyaku muses that the changing times has made Amazon Lily not as safe as it used to be even with the Calm Belt, and this will keep happening unless the Kuja and Hancock in particular find somewhere safe. On board a Marine warship in the present day, there’s a discussion around the kidnapping of Captain Koby by Blackbeard, with his status unkown.

Great chapter. Hell of a lot going on in it. Don’t care that much for Yamato stuff, but interested in Marco’s journey. We haven’t seen the last of him, and think this is setting up Edward Weevil since he’s close to Sphinx Island. He ain’t no commander, but Weevil seems really strong. We about to find out that “Whitebeard in his youth” really sounds like.

At this point, Vegapunk has to be kidnapped because he keeps building really dangerous shit. The first iteration of Pacifista was bad enough, and it took all of the Straw Hats to take down one half the story ago. This guy’s cloning Lunarians and modeling them as Shichibukai! WTF? We can probably expect to see Seraphim models of Doflamingo, Crocodile and even Jimbei. Just the idea of a Jimbei clone tossing the ocean can easily spell disaster for any crew. The Marines seem really serious about ocean supremacy judging from the Seraphim’s performance.

Also, let’s take a moment to appreciate just how formidable Hancock is, and if Oda was serious about writing a proper fight, even the Marines and Blackbeard together would have lost. No, really. Her devil fruit is really broken. And she went out without Salome. If she had him, she could’ve easuily used “Slave Arrow across the island from her castle and petrified every invading force save perhaps for the Seraphim. She’d still have been in trouble, but judging how Blackbeard was so cautious about her abilities and waited to get the drop on her after she swiftly turned Marines and the Blackbeard Pirates into stone, she’s a force to be reckoned with. They didn’t give her that 1.569bn belli for no reason. Even her orignal 80 million belli bounty was from one campaign. One. That’s like if you just formed your pirate crew and you go to another country and merk their army and leave. She got that when she was eighteen, and even then they invited her into the Shichibukai quickly before she really became a problem. She’s crafty as fuck too: what wasn’t just a feat that she did, she deliberately attacked all parties and even if she was overpowered, she could bargain her life for their crew. Strategic countermeasures right there. That said, she was warned time and time again that this very scenario might happen. “Take your Shichibukai position seriously for the Kuja to survive. They have Seastone tipped ships now” “They’ll forgive, because I’m beautiful”. Are the Marines in a forgiving mood now, Hancock? I’m sure that they still remember that time when you attacked them on the battlefield and didn’t say why. Not something they’re likely to forget. I don’t think Hancock will actually marry Luffy, but I definitely see her in the Straw Hat Grand Fleet. It seems that alliances are now the name of the game. So if you want to eat well and be safe, you have to hop on a Yonko for protection. This is what Cross Guild is trying to form too. There’s a hint of irony regarding Koby’s comment that he doesn’t think a man exists who can resist her beauty. Of course, we know of one who can but he has to hear about this before taking action.

Blackbeard was a nice conflict breaker, and no-one should except two of Luffy’s allies to fight each other even if there on different sides of the law. It’s really setting in how disturbing Teach’s hunt for devil fruit actually is. This guy really travelled from the New World within mere days to Amazon Lily, specifically to hunt down and kill Hancock for her fruit ability. It says something that he’s so power-hungry and self-centered that he wouldn’t even consider his crew being saved and thought the risk to himself or possibility of gaining a devil fruit and opts to just do Hancock in. This is a marked contrast to how Luffy and how much his own crew means to him. Luffy even snapped for Hancock petrifying three women who failed in capturing him! Though given the creepy ideas Devon and Shot had, they can stay as garden statues for all I care.

Rayleigh and Shakky: Yeah, Rayleigh gets by on his rep...and his amazingly strong Haki. What we need to remember is that “getting old” for Rayleigh means “I’m able to dance with an Admiral but no more”, and for twenty years before he met Luffy, he wasn’t active. Sure, he could go on swims in the Calm Belt, but not quite like fighting Marines and shit. Koby was shook when he saw him, so these guys know. Shakyaku being the empress of the Kuja, and its captain from two generations back? Yeah, there were theories around it that was pretty strong: Her name for one, and how she knew exactly what would happen with Hancock met Luffy were very good hints. She herself seems to be a mix of Hancock and Nyon, what with her reading habits and being generally badass. She is NOT Ochoku/Wang Zhi apparently.

As for Koby, he’s such a cop all that build up over being a “hero” only to get kidnapped? What could Koby possibly have that Blackbeard wants? Not a devil fruit for sure. Does this have anything to do with SWORD? Is Koby just a bargaining chip for the Marines? Could even Law have anything linked to this? Maybe even the former Aokiji/Kuzan might step in. Would be interesting since he’s already in the crew. Just who are those Marines on the warship on the last page? And why are people getting kidnapped or going missing? It’s about to get sticky in OP.

8/10

#one piece #one piece 1059 #seraphim #pacifista #shichibukai #boa hancock #hancock #blackbeard #marshall d. teach #teach #vasco shot #catarina devon #koby #marines #yamakiji #silvers rayleigh #rayleigh #shakuyaku

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