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imma-devil · 2 years

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Whole Lotta Love | e.m

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Warning: 18+ Smut (MINORS DNI), Weed, Swearing

Summary: Eddie admires you and that admiration brought you from acquaintances to close friends. However, the two of you know that you feel something more. The question is, are you going to do something about it?

Tags: No use of (y/n), mentions of weed, swearing, pining, somewhat established friendship, a little friends to lovers, smut, some fluff, sub!Eddie, shy Eddie, gentle!dom!reader, oral (male!receiving), oral (female!receiving), handjob, spit as lube, grinding, dry humping, making out, face sitting :) , thighssss, biting, slight choking (male!receiving), consent is hot, aftercare is hot, hands free ;) , little proofreading.

Word count: 3,800+

Author’s Note: I was having a difficult time finding what I was looking for, so I just said “Fuck it,” and made my own.

Part 2

Please do not steal or copy my work. Don’t repost without credit. This is my written work everything besides the character belongs to me.

Eddie Munson was considered a freak among his classmates at Hawkins High. Generally, one would expect that this perception came from his loud outbursts in the hallways or when he stood on top of desks to announce his opinions to the world. However, people took one look at his zeppelin style with rings adorned on each finger and his hair cast in untempered curls to make their opinion. He didn’t worry himself over these misconceptions for the most part because he believed it was out of his control. At first, after his buzz cut days, he turned to the ‘rocker’ look to hopefully turn this around; when his results seemed to be lacking, he wielded his sense of style as a statement and wore it proudly once he grew further into his non-conformist attitude. But what he didn’t get, was why was it so different when it came to you? Your sense of style nearly mirrored his own―ripped jeans, ribbed shirts with faded band logos, jean jackets, and leather boots. Chains chimed while you walked. Your nails, plastered in a veil of black ink. You too had small tattoos that cascaded your skin. Yet, people were not nearly as unwelcoming as they were when it came to him.

You weren’t exponentially popular—you were no king Steve, Tommy H, or Chrissy Cunningham. But, you were well-liked―and you weren’t treated like the plague as often as he was. He had seen you laugh with band ‘geeks’ and have your arms around cheerleaders. He watched you jokingly argue with those on the basketball team and read quietly with members of the high school post. Yet, most often, he saw you alone.

The two of you weren’t friends, but you’ve certainly spoken before. In a small town, such as Hawkins, it would be impossible not to. But, you hadn’t spoken out of necessity―you had actually mingled. The first time you spoke was in elementary school, likely about something minuscule, like him asking you for a pencil. The first time you spoke in HIGH SCHOOL was when you caught him by surprise at his locker. You just happened to be passing by when you turned on your heel and got his attention. You complimented his Hellfire Club shirt and asked where he got it from―

Fleeting conversations were passed here and there. But, once the two of you started hanging out at the same scene together, puzzle pieces began to fall into place. Your friendship grew over the passing of joints... Cassettes were exchanged. Movies were watched. He wore one of your engraved rings on his pinky and you wore his blocky, metallic ring on your index finger. You helped him study for exams, listened to the recordings of his band, and smoked with him inside his trailer. Long, deep conversations were held atop his mattress while listening to Megadeth, Judas Priest, and Motorhead on his stereo.

―and it was that exact setting, which led you to where you were now. A beat-up, paperback copy of Doctors Wear Scarlett by Simon Raven was in your hand while you laid with your back to the mattress. Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin was playing through the stereo’s strained and garbled speakers... not that you could really make out the words―because Eddie was purposefully shouting over the lyrics in a whiny voice while plucking at the strings of his guitar. Every once in a while, he would chuckle at his own antics and lose composure, causing you to laugh along as well. For the majority of the song, you were too amused with Eddie’s singing that you simply mumbled along with the lyrics so that you could listen. But, you grew distracted and somewhat bored of the book and allowed yourself to belt out some of the lyrics in synch with the wild boy next to you. This almost instantly shut him up to where he abandoned his yelling so he could try and sing in tune with you. You shut your eyes and swayed your head into the lyrics while dramatizing your enthusiasm for the song. Eddie watched as your nose scrunched with your singing and he couldn’t help but smile at the observation.

He cast his hand over your face and gingerly placed his thumb upon your nose, using it to press your nose into a pig-like shape.

Instinctively you smacked his hand away, laughing lightly at the situation.

He watched as you placed your book down on the bed and rolled onto your stomach. Your eyes fell on the place where he was sitting up against the bedpost―and the position caused him to feel increasingly more self-aware.

“Play something,” you said through a slanted smirk.

“I don’t know,” Eddie teased while looking down, “―you put me on the spot here.”

“C’mon rockstar!” you egged on after playfully shoving his leg, “I wanna hear a song.”

Eddie hoisted himself up to where he sat straighter against the headboard and hovered his hand over the strings with lingering anticipation. After a moment’s hesitation, he began plucking the strings without tune or rhythm, occasionally adding in made-up lyrics along the way.

When your face fell into the mattress in a faux annoyance, he stuttered into a laugh.

You muttered out “Dumbass,” which was muffled by the comforter. But, Eddie was only amused by the empty insults. He eventually lowered his guitar to where it rested against his bedside table. With nothing left to do with his hands, he found himself twirling your ring on his finger.

A whole song played without either of the teens speaking any words into existence. You had spent those two minutes drifting your attention between the lyrics, the sound of a tv from across the lot, and the movements of the ring on Eddie’s finger. You registered that the ring was yours, but to confirm it, you reached out and stilled the motion of his hand with your own. With his skin beneath yours, you maneuvered his hand to take a closer look at the ring... and sure enough, it was yours. In a show of camaraderie, you curled your fingers into a fist to display his ring that was donned on your index finger. But, when you looked up to gauge his expression, you found the face of a man that seemed to be absolutely enthralled by your being. You were well aware that your feelings for one another were beyond friendship; whether those feelings were lust, or something more, was beyond you. If someone were to ask why you didn’t act on those feelings sooner―you wouldn’t be able to give a definitive answer. Perhaps, you wanted to preserve the friendship that you shared? However, since the opportunity presented itself, why not just take it?

So, with his hand still being held within yours, you lowered it to the mattress at his side. Your arm was crossed over his waist, and you used the momentum to pull yourself to a crouch with your face hovering over his. You paced yourself, allowing him plenty of time to reject the action. Though, you doubt he would, considering the way that his eyes are glued to yours with a sense of desperation and longing that's swirling within his irises. You ask anyway—

“Do you want this?” you spoke in a voice that was low and languid, but loud enough to be heard with clarity.

Eddie nodded with the slightest movement, which could’ve gone unnoticed.

With your face creeping closer to his, you watch as his gaze falls to your lips. “I need you to say it,” you whisper as tenderly as you can muster.

He shudders a breathy sigh before emitting a barely audible “...yes.” You watch as if he retracts in embarrassment. He wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and his eyes flit away for a moment.

Just as you close the distance, he grinds down on his bottom lip with his teeth in a display of control―as if he were reeling himself back in. But, then that same ferocity is transferred into the kiss that you share. You breathe him in for a moment, regaining control, as you force him to slow to your pace. You can feel his neediness through the quickening of his breath while his hand comes up to cup your cheek. His fingertips tease slightly at the hair on your neck. Eddie’s other arm hooks around the small of your back, subsequently pulling you close to where you sit on his lap. All the while, your lips work together and you feel the passing touches of your tongues as you lap at his muffled moans. Drawing each sound from his mouth is as easy as it is bringing a pencil to paper.

Your hand breaks away from the mattress to glide lightly across his skin. Traveling up his arm, pausing slightly to appreciate the rise of his chest, and slowing to a stop in order to caress the base of his neck. He cranes forward, seeking out your touch. A moan falls from his lips as you snug his neck further into your gasp; causing you to make a blissful sound as you quickly latch a kiss to his jaw. Apparently, the spot is sensitive, as he ruts up into you.

“Sorry,” He quickly apologizes. But, the eagerness of his words allowed him no time to adjust... so his voice came out weak and desperate.

Rather than give him a worded reply, you simply reciprocated the action. Using your hips, you rolled yourself onto the growing bulge in his tight jeans. Eddie’s response was a choked gasp, that he promptly muffled by clasping his teeth onto your shoulder.

“Fuck,” Eddie uttered into your shoulder with shaky fluctuations.

You repeated the action, enjoying how he pressed his face further into the crook of your neck.

You pushed away some of his curls, to further reveal the expanse of his exposed neck. Peppering it with kisses, each one growing wetter and more lasting, before you finally sucked on the pulse beneath his skin. Eddie was beginning to meet your hips with perfectly timed, slow thrusts... and he resigned himself to becoming a moaning mess. So instead of hiding his pleasured sounds, he opted to let his mouth hang open and you felt his warm, needy breaths fan against your neck.

You loved listening to the small curses that drifted along with the air, getting lost in the music from the stereo.

All Eddie could focus on was the heat that was repeatedly grinding against him, your lips and tongue working against his skin, and the buzzing in his ears that was seemingly melting his brain. It was like his senses were going haywire, so all he could do to ground himself was relentlessly nip and kiss at the skin that was available to him. Each time he heard your breath hitch, he grew more desperate and came further undone beneath you. So when you suddenly stopped moving against him, he couldn’t help the whine that was ripped from his throat.

Before he could plead for you to continue, you whispered with a breathy voice that mirrored his own cracking composure. “Do you want to take this further?”

“Yes!—” the word practically leaped off his tongue and another string of yeses followed, each showing more longing and making you more aware of the ache that he felt.

You both didn’t seem capable of moving away from one another, but with one look at Eddie’s blown-out pupils, it was like your composure was restored. You prided yourself in the mess that you made him become. So, despite the damp and seething heat that you felt, you took it slow. So. Very. Slow.

You popped open the button of your jeans, leaning back on your weight, which in turn caused him to release a groan. You broke away for a moment to remove your pants, in which Eddie did the same in record time. The movement―having caused him to lay down rather than be seated. If it weren’t for the stagnant tension, you would’ve laughed at the way his hands flew to his belt and ripped it from the loops of his jeans. How his fingers launched at his zipper and yanked the fabric from his legs. Once his legs were bare besides his briefs, you mounted his waist again. This time his eyes shot to your underwear and he gingerly slid his hands to your thighs. His unwavering stare should make you nervous, but his unfiltered desire simply goads you on. He hooks both of his thumbs beneath the fabric, pulling it ever-so-slightly to where it tightens into the skin but reveals the bareness of your thighs. It’s as if he’s teasing himself with the glimpse of you, and it's one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen.

You place your hand on his abdomen just above his waist, and he jolts at the sudden stimulation. He looks up at you and nearly swoons at the smirk on your face. He wouldn’t be surprised if he was blushing—so he rests his arm over his face to hide whatever embarrassment that could be seen in his features. But it quickly becomes a way to control himself when you slip your fingers beneath his shirt and grind your nails up his skin. The further you reach, the more you lean on his throbbing cock, and once again his breath is picking up, and he doubts you haven’t noticed.

Your hand lingers for a moment, traveling along his chest, applying pressure to just the right places, before it comes back down. Slowly trailing down his torso and reaching his lower stomach. He thought you’d stop there, but your fingers hook in the seam of his briefs and he could swear that he stopped breathing. And, just while he was so focused on the left hand, your right comes up his leg in a gentle caress. The very tip of your nails, skim the sensitive area of his inner thigh and he flinches. You chuckle at the reaction―and instantly Eddie becomes simultaneously the horniest and most humiliated person alive. He buries his face deeper into the curl of his arm to the point where he could suffocate himself if he wished and strongly grips your thigh in his other hand. He can’t see you, but he feels it when you lift yourself off of him and sit further down his legs. The movement distracts him, so when you palm him through his briefs, he hisses into his arm. He grinds up to meet your hand as you hear him sigh into the motion―and he’s too caught up in the one sensation that he still lingers on it, even as you pull down his waistband. His dick springs forward to land against his abdomen, where you hear a damp slap from the precum that’s weeping from the tip; which is an angry pink, begging to be touched.

Eddie wouldn’t lie, he definitely felt a little shy at the fact that he was so exposed to the girl that he had been crushing on for longer than he could remember. He had admired you from afar for so long. When you became friends, he never expected that the two of you would be here—even with the constant flirting, it had only ever been a game. So, with his face still tucked in his arm, he moved it the slightest bit so that he could see you through a space where he’d still be hidden from view.

He watched as you took one finger, and pressed it into the leaking liquid. When you pulled it away, a string of it followed... and he throbbed when he saw you take the fluid into your mouth. He moaned in anticipation as he watched you swipe your hand with your tongue—and the moan only grew when you brought that same hand to his cock. With one pump, you brought your hand to the base and his hips slowly coiled up to meet the friction. With your other hand, you pushed against his waist to bring him back down to the bed, and he groaned defiantly.

His eyes gave you their undivided attention when you hovered your face, lined up with him in your hand. He watched with an unbroken stare as a dribble of spit fell from your mouth and the warm texture coated his dick. His mouth lay open in a silent moan, which was revitalized as soon as your hand was set into motion. Your name tumbled from his lips, abandoned at the last syllable because his voice was lost in a whine. His neck strained backward and he revealed his face from behind his arm because he used it to card his fingers through his hair.

You pumped in slow movements, twisting your grip at the head, sounding lewd noises, which worked harmoniously with his haggard breaths. Each time your hand hooked beneath the head, his core muscles twitched, creating a wonderful sight to play witness to. Eddie still tried to fuck into your hand, but his pleasurable moans turned into frustrated ones when your other hand kept him from doing so. He closed his eyes for a moment to bask in the sensation—but quickly made himself vulnerable when you ran your tongue up the underside of his cock in one fluid movement. His whole body jolted and he gasped—turning into a string of low, breathy moans when you took him into your mouth. You continued to stroke the base of him with your hand—loving the sounds that emitted from him.

“Ugh— God,” he groaned with his eyes screwed shut. His voice hollowed to whisper, “...Just like that.”

Eddie lost himself for a moment, rubbing his eyes with his ring-clad hand, and letting his fingers clasp in a tuff of his curly hair. But, by sheer force of will, he clung on to any senses that he could find.

“...wait.” he croaked, “Wait—don’t!”

You slowed to a stop, then pulled him from your mouth with a questioning and concerned gaze. “What’s wrong?”

With the most unconvincing voice ever, Eddie groaned out: “I don’t wanna cum.”

His eyes were shut in both pleasure and an attempt at self-control. One of his hands reached out in your direction, searching for you. You were caught up in the sight of his heavy rising chest, but you met his touch with your hand. You could feel his gentle pull, and you realized that he wanted you to move with him. You followed his guiding tug to sit on his chest—and you were about voice your confusion until he lifted you to sit above his face in one, unexpected display of strength.

“I want you,” He said, finally opening his eyes for you to see that his brown irises were cast over fully in a dark shadow of lust. His eyes were lidded, his eyelashes long and far too pretty that you didn’t catch yourself before you brushed over them with your thumb.

Eddie pulled on your panties, though not fully, still awaiting your permission.

“Go ahead, pretty boy...” You smiled warmly down at the pussy whipped man beneath you.

He hummed in approval before tugging your panties aside. You could feel him rut up into nothing, just by seeing you. Both of his arms embraced your thighs, where he guided you into a snug seat upon his face. He lapped at your heat, groaning at the taste, before all but burying his tongue into you. His tongue moved at a steady pace, curling inside of you; his own hips thrusting in a synchronized motion while his imagination substituted his tongue for his throbbing dick. You could feel the vibrations of his moans and occasional curses. The fact that he was feeling so much while treating you was charging the neural impulses in your brain; each shuddering breath, each moan, each whine, and each crane of his hips was making his tongue feel all the better. Moans started to pool out from you with each sound that he made—

He was riding on the high of his brain melting while he laid between your thighs; and he thought that if you moved just a little closer, he would float on the welcomed lack of oxygen. Which is why he used his arms to press himself into you, the veins beneath his skin straining to keep you close. He could just barely feel the waistband of his briefs against the base of his aching cock, and he searched desperately for any friction while he rutted up against the fabric. He thought of how you’d feel, engulfing him within your warmth, holding you close as he spent himself inside of you. His eyes rolled in the back of his head just thinking about it.

“Eddie—” You said with a voice that was breathy, yet filled with grit. “I’m close.”

His hips stuttered with those two words.

You jolted into a moan—which was low and drawled out like a purr—His name on your tongue and your fingers tangled in Eddie’s hair. You came to, just in time to see Eddie’s eyes roll back in his head as he lapped up what you had to offer.

When he finally unlatched himself from you, his breath was coming out in loud pants. It took you a moment to notice the ashamed look in his eyes, but once you did, you immediately took action.

Rising away from his face slightly, you took his cheek in your hand. “Eddie, what’s wrong?”

He didn’t respond, instead, he gave a guilty smile and turned into the side of your thigh as if to peek out from behind it.

You were about to fully get up so you could grant him some space, but he promptly held you in place. You began to notice that he was blushing—the tip of his visible ear was turning bright pink and his cheeks were dusted in the same shade. Somehow, it clicked for you...

“...Did you— cum?” You asked, pausing to allow a smile to creep onto your face.

Eddie simply buried his face further—this time, causing his hair to cover the remnants of his face that your thigh could not.

You could tell, he felt embarrassed and somewhat self-conscious about what had happened. So, rather than teasing him about it, which you would definitely do in a less sensitive situation, you coddled him a bit. Leaning down, you placed a feather-light kiss on the top of his head. When he remained hidden, you kiss him again...and again...and again... and eventually, he was coaxed out of his shell.

“I think it’s hot,” you cooed through a smirk.

Eddie groaned, smooshing his face as he rubbed it with his hands. Remnants of a blush, still strong on his skin.

“―like really... really hot” You grinned, kissing the hand that covered his face.

He groaned again, though you could tell he was smiling.

After a slight pause, you reached forward and gripped each of his hands in one of your own before clearing them from his face. You held them down above his head and gazed lovingly into his eyes...His eyes still reflected insecurity, but you met his lips with yours, hoping to convey your feelings in a warm kiss. He did his best to intertwine his fingers with yours, smiling when he felt your rings clink together.

#eddie munson #stranger things #friends to lovers #smut #female!reader #reader imagine #dom!reader #gentle dom #dom/sub #sub!eddie munson #fanfic #fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

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cosmic-space-god · 7 months

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What if I used my gentle dominance to make you love and cherish yourself? What if I made you develop healthy habits and routines? What if my love and power over you, allowed you to become the best version of yourself both inside and out? What then, huh?

#space god's domain #gentle dom #soft dom #ftm dom #ftm top #t4t nsft #mtf bottom #mtf sub

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thatonedumb-s-u-b · 1 year

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Fuck me softly, tell me everything you love about me and murmur soft praise into my ears while we take our time. Stay still, enjoy the connection while we kiss softly and you’re inside me. I want to hear you coo and calm me down when I start crying from how tender this moment is because I’m not used to it. I’m not used to being coddled, being treated soft and genuine compassion and love and when you start I’m just so overwhelmed and your arms around me are the only things keeping me from completely unraveling. And suddenly I’m not focused on how stressed I was. How tired and worn out I felt earlier. Because you took it all away, and I’m left even more in awe of you.

#nsft sub #male sub #male dom #female dom #nb dom #non-binary dom #genderless dom #soft dom #gentle dom #soft sex

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marshroons · 3 months

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I just want to make someone feel so good that they cry. Praise them, kiss them, fuck them in the exact way I know is going to make them melt, make it so overwhelmingly good that they can't help but cry and sob.

#t4t #trans #trans sub #bad english #trans dom #t4t ns/fw #nb nsft #nb dom #nb sub #dacryphilia #not sure how to tag this #soft dom #gentle dom

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heartofjasmina · 1 year

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now I'm thinking about Young Might and I'm unwell-

he's so gentle with you <3

cause he knows how big he is (and I'm not talking his muscleform I'm talkin about that DIC-).

even in his small form his body is all lean muscle and golden skin from his years under the american sun. so when he finally has you spread out for him- hazy from his mouth on your clit ("just getting you ready sweetheart, don't want to hurt my little one do I?"), pussy gushing on his cock head like you were born to, he's a little light headed himself.

"made for me sweet thing, just- fuck- made to take my cock."

#toshinori #thick dick boys #all might smut #all might #can i get a hnnnnnnnngggggg~#big dick gentle giant #gentle dom #jasmina writes 🌸

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devoted-domme · 2 months

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How did you know your into being dominant ? Anything particular you like in a sub ?

So, this became a bit longer than I had anticipated, so my reply to both questions will be under a cut!

For your first question: Honestly, I think I have known from a very young age, even before puberty.

I’ve always felt drawn to stories about deep, meaningful relationships based on some sort of power imbalance and extreme devotion, like servants and knights who would do anything for their master or king. Basically, any character who was naturally submissive towards an authority figure and who was deeply devoted to them.

Scenes in which someone knelt in front of their master were my favourites and I’d re-read them over and over again. It wasn’t sexually motivated since I was too young for that, and yet something about these types of scenes always made my heart race.

Then during puberty, I discovered that I was attracted to both men and women but I don’t enjoy being penetrated and never liked the expectations that society held for women in straight relationships. I never wanted to be the object of someone’s desires, I wanted to be the active party who has agency and be the person who leads and initiates. I never liked the thought of me lying there and having someone else shower me with affection, I wanted to be the person in control and do these things to someone else and make sure they feel good.

Because of this, I thought I was fully lesbian for a long time, even though I do find men attractive. But I never thought it would be possible to be a man without all of the associated gender roles and the way straight sex was framed in general was such a turn-off, with the language people use and all the gendered expectations.

I only ever dated women because it was easier to escape those expectations and easier to explain what being a stone top means. I never believed men would be interested in getting penetrated and being submissive so I stuck to female partners who enjoyed it.

And of course, I’m not saying you can’t be dominant and enjoy being penetrated, it’s just something that I personally don’t want and it’s really hard to escape that expectation if you try dating in straight circles.

Seeking out online spaces for femdom (and in particular, Tumblr as it tends to be less focused on straight relationships and rigid gender roles, in general) really helped me strengthen my own understanding of my sexuality.

Now, onto your second question:

Truthfully, I am very picky when it comes to choosing a sub since I’m not really interested in just casual play so my sub would also be my romantic partner (I’m not talking about answering a spicy ask/message here and there, I’m very open to that, just anything beyond that is purely reserved for my romantic partner).

Generally, I would be looking for a “naturally submissive” sub, not just someone who is into it as a kink. That doesn’t mean I’m looking for a 24/7 type of deal at all, I just mean that I want a sub who is just that – submissive. They want me to actually be in charge in the bedroom and are happy to do what I want to do instead of only wanting a “kink dispenser” who caters to their every wish.

It’s a bit ironic, considering that my preferred domming style is very focused on the sub and their pleasure but at the same time I don’t want to be told what to do. It’s fine to give suggestions, they should absolutely have kinks they love and firm limits they don’t want to cross but it gets annoying when I feel like they want to “direct” the scene.

It’s also very important to me that my sub sees me as an actual real-life human being who is flawed, just like everyone else. I’m not some mysterious goddess who is always “on” and in domme mode 24/7. I’m often quite dorky and awkward and they need to be able to understand that and understand that real life isn’t fantasy and people don’t behave like they do in whatever pornography they have seen or erotica they have read.

I need to get the impression that I actually matter to them as a person, beyond the utility I can offer to them (and of course, I will do them the same courtesy!).

Needless to say, the same things apply here as in any other relationship: good communication, the willingness to listen and speak up if there are problems, mutual respect (especially with regards to boundaries) and trust, willingness to compromise, a strong sense of self and independence, loyalty, empathy, dependability, an overall emotional connection and so on.

(And of course, what I have listed here are things that I would also strive to give back in return in a relationship!)

Naturally, we should also have compatible kinks and a similar idea of what our D/s dynamic should look like and my sub should have a strong idea of their limits (saying they have “no limits” is a red flag, for sure!). I need to be able to trust them to actually use their safeword if they need to (just as they need to trust me to also then stop the scene if they do and not be mad at them for using their safeword).

Having standards is also a green flag – if I get the impression that they are actually picky about who gets to dom(me) them it already helps to make me feel more at ease and like I’m actually being treated like a person instead of just their kink wish fulfillment.

Of course, like anyone else, physical attraction plays a strong role in who I want to date/take as a sub, but I am attracted to a lot of different "types" and I do think how someone carries themselves and their general mannerisms and personality play a huge role in my attraction to them as well.

Also, I think as someone whose love language is Acts of Service and who enjoys taking care of my partners, it’s easy to attract subs who genuinely believe I can/will “fix” them when the truth is: no one can fix you but yourself. Of course, it is always easier to improve yourself when you have the support of someone else but the drive to change needs to come from within.

So, I need my sub to be an actual adult, capable of living their day-to-day life. That doesn’t mean they’re not allowed to struggle with things (I do as well), just that they need to be overall mature and independent.

Now, I do think it's fun to give subs incentives to improve their lives, to give them little tasks and rewards and I think it can be a good way to help them keep good habits, but this only really works to a small extent and they still need to be motivated to change by themselves.

Additionally, a potential sub would need to not be into any kinks that are misogynistic, homophobic or racist like s/issies and c/uckolding (it shouldn't be degrading to be penetrated or to wear feminine clothing or to have sex with black men, unless you actually believe being a woman or being black or gay is inherently more degrading than being a white straight man).

For male subs, they need to be feminist allies and be actively working on undoing toxic masculinity and be respectful to women in general, not just the ones they’re attracted to and not just for however long they need to get into a woman’s pants. I think a lot of male subs think just because they’re “submissive” they’re somehow above misogyny when truthfully, I have experienced more sexism from male subs than I have from any of the regular blokes in my life.

In terms of overall personality, I’m hugely attracted to people who are just genuinely good people – kind and helpful. I adore gentle people and even those who are a bit shy. I don’t need someone to be the smartest person or the most confident or the funniest, just try to be the kindest version of yourself you can be.

I think that’s all! Sorry for the long rambling response but I really enjoyed getting all my thoughts out. I hope some of this is still useful to you (or anyone else who happens to be reading this!).

#bd/sm discussion #bd/sm kink #fdom #gentle fdom #gentle femdxm #wlw bd/sm #female dom #gentle dom #mine #ask

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insanesquash · 9 months

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I will ride you hard and fast, with my hands on your cheeks and kisses to your forehead.

#ftm nsft #trans mlm nsft #trans nsft #mlm nsft #t4t nsft #ftm mlm #transmasc nsft #ftm dom #gentle dom #gay nsft

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peacentheviolence · 9 months

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I want to paint his nails while he has a vibrator in his ass reminding him that if he shakes or moves it will mess up his pretty nails.

#bd/sm mommy #gentle female domination #fem/dom #gentle dom #mommy k!nk #sub boy #good boy #domme mommy

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imma-devil · 2 years

Note

I am begging you to write a part two for whole lotta love, the chimestry between leads was INMACULATE and the smut was fire. Sub eddie is love, sub eddie is life

Whole Lotta Love Pt 2 | e.m

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Warning: 18+ Smut (MINORS DNI), swearing, implications of alcohol/weed (not really tho)

Summary: After Eddie and you made the choice to pass the threshold of just being friends, you must figure out where you want to end up. Eddie grapples with insecurities and struggles to voice them. Will the two of you back pedal on your actions or take it a step further?

Tags: No use of (y/n), Sub!Eddie Munson, Soft!Dom!Reader, some pet names (lover boy, beautiful, etc?), P in V sex, unprotected sex (use protection), contraceptives, creampie, pining, a tad of angst, some emotional hurt/comfort, Soft!Eddie, FLUFFFFFFFFF, Friends to Lovers trope, smut, driving under the influence (don’t do that), a few analogies of drugs/alcohol, some gentle loving that gets heated, slight choking, bites, edging, consent is hot, thighs, leg/thigh riding, hair pulling, finger sucking, riding, cock warming if you squint, barely any proofreading.

Word count: 5,900+

Please do not steal or copy my work. Don’t repost without credit. This is my written work, everything besides the characters and plot points by the original writers, belongs to me.

After the actions that progressed in the confines of Eddie’s trailer, the two of you spent a little over an hour, listening to music and lying with one another. The both of you were back in your clothes, backs braced against the wall with your arms wrapped around each other. You had helped Eddie clean up, whispering little nothings of admiration and sending him affectionate smiles.

But, Eddie was uncharacteristically quiet. You could tell it wasn’t necessarily a negative thing. He didn’t seem distraught—or as if he were battling with regret. He snuck you small smiles in response to yours, and his eyes couldn’t seem to meet yours for longer than a few seconds before flitting away to examine the details of his room. Yet, when he thought you weren’t looking, he’d gaze deeply upon your face, as if you were the most-delicately sculpted piece of artwork in the world. You attempted to coax him further into a state of comfort by asking him simple questions; details on Corroded Coffin, and future plans for his DnD campaign...but, Eddie gave uneventful answers; often through stuttered words and a seemingly dry mouth.

He was aware of the stagnant, odd tension that was fogged in the air. Almost as aware as he was of your eyes on him, which raked over his body with similar enthusiasm to himself.

The more that time drawled on, the further you were convinced that you should grant him some space.—Which is why you smoothly managed to slip in that you should leave for the night. Eddie didn’t oppose, seeing as it was well into 4 in the morning, and the both of you had a day full of lectures on the horizon. You meandered about for a bit longer before you eventually left, but you couldn’t help but wish to stay.

He walked you to the door, lingering in the open doorway as he took in the sight of you under the ambient light of the moon. You held back a smile when his leg began to swing in a self-comforting gesture.

“Drive safely, okay?” Eddie said with a shy grin, his doe eyes centered on you.

“Unlike you...” You smirked, attempting to reel back in the teasing energy that existed between you. “—I don’t drive like a madman.”

He huffed out a laugh, leaning forward on his hands, which were pressed on the wall above the door. He subconsciously redirected his gaze to his shoes before emitting a soft, “rude”

You made use of the situation, taking Eddie slightly off-guard by leaning your face in below his bowed head. The movement caused his eyes to shoot to yours with a certain magnetism, causing his skin to erupt from the intangible electricity.

You gradually raised your posture while keeping your closed distance; Eddie found himself following the flow of movements with his body as if he was lulled into a trance. >>God—how were you doing this to him?<;<

He was so used to being the one in control of the few relationships he’s had. Even while holding the label of ‘Freak’ at Hawkins High, he still had women who were interested in him before (and men— which he didn’t seem to notice). He remembers having his arm draped over their shoulder, causing them to smile by simply meeting their eyes in a flirtatious stare. Oh, but with you, he felt like the dames- who he basked with his arm over their shoulder. It made him feel like a fool—twiddling his fingers and kicking his feet on his bed. Pink in the face and a love-stricken smile, which made his cheeks sore. With your friendship, there was rarely a moment when you weren’t indulged in a game of tag, ping-ponging flirtations back and forth with little seriousness. He thought he was the only one that craved oh-so-deeply to bring your game to reality... but now that he could see he was wrong, he wasn’t sure he could handle the weight of those implications. The weight, that you practically held his heart in your hands, with the full intention to take it for yourself.

“Eddie?” you called, pulling him back from the complexities of his swirling thoughts.

“Hmmm?” He responded in a drowsy voice that sounded like his judgment was clouded in a shroud of intoxication. It made laughter bubble on your lips.

“Where’d you go?” you referenced to him being lost in thought.

“—Nowhere,” he gave a lopsided smile. “I’m right here.”

You hummed a sound in response before your hand came up to hold one of his loose hanging curls. A huskier sound followed from you right after when Eddie sucked in a breath.

“...Kiss?” you asked with a growing smile and your tongue teasing at your cheek, finding amusement in the romantic tension.

“You—” His voice strained before clearing his throat to try again, “... you wanna kiss?”

You nodded, pulling lightly at the curl, watching as it stretched and sprung back into its shape.

Eddie looked back on his shoulder like he was checking for someone within his home who were to spy on your interaction, but you knew quite well that he was hiding his face away from you so he could retrieve himself again. With his hands still clinging above the doorframe, it only enabled him to shield himself further.

He could hear your chirp of laughter, undoubtedly smirking ear to ear at him from behind his view... and it only tugged on his heart more. He figured that if you pulled the tension any further, it would snap.

Eddie suddenly turned back to you, his hair whipping at the movement. He leaned forward to bridge the gap between you, and when you simply smiled and looked into his eyes, he inhaled you in a choked gasp. You teased at his lips with your own in a light caress, allowing him to deepen the kiss. The two of you closed your eyes at the exact moment—and the more that the kiss grew, the further he leaned into you, seeking you out.

But, in a harmless tease, you backed away at a grueling pace and watched as he continued to progress forward. When he eventually couldn’t move any further without falling from the door, your lips parted with a quiet smack. He looked at you quizzically, his soft eyes, looking impossibly softer.

“Get some rest lover-boy,” you cooed. “We have class in a few hours.”

His lips parted to speak, but he opted to let the words die on his tongue and he watched you head towards your car with a giddy grin. Even when your car was out of the lot and no longer visible to him, he could still feel the heat in his ears and an uncomfortable-yet-addictive pressure in his chest.

✝︎

When he saw you at school just a couple hours later, he watched as he caught glimpses of your face amongst the crowd. But, the bell rang, and he lost sight of you—inevitably causing him to fight his desire to speak with you and head to his first-period class.

The rest of the day was filled with some more of the same—fleeting glances, passing conversations, and lingering want. It wasn’t intentional. He wanted to believe that. But, when granted the chance to speak with you between third and fourth period, he opted out and sought cover in the bathroom with his heart running a mile-per-minute. He wanted to slap himself for running away—but the feeling of his heart hammering in his chest at the sight of you walking his way was too much. He thanks that you hadn’t spotted him, because he isn’t sure if he could handle the agonizing embarrassment of you watching him scramble to the nearest restroom instead of having a simple conversation.

He hoped that reaction would be contained to the one instance, but when you joined up to eat lunch at the cafeteria table, he couldn’t seem to meet your eyes during the whole 35 minutes of being there.

The next two days consisted of the same. The two of you not being able to speak about what happened that night in his trailer. You tried to meet his reluctance to talk with more diligence of your own, but you quickly registered that Eddie was just a pinch shy of avoiding you.... and not just in the sense of his apparent adamance in not wanting to speak alone, but also in his incessant need to talk over you when you were hanging out in a group.

Eddie is on average, a talkative person. He likes the attention—often filling the quiet with his noise; whether it be his unyielding onslaught of social commentary, rambunctious jokes, or the metal music that he shreds from his guitar strings. But, you could deduce that he was being noisier than usual. He was overcompensating by dialing his personality tenfold—and even the boys were beginning to catch on.

Especially on the second day during lunch; when Eddie cut you off mid-sentence and carried on until his breath practically ran out. Most of the group was too caught up in the humor of his words to really care or notice, but Mike and Dustin were quick to comment on it.

Mike uttered out, “dude” in a subtle scolding tone, which halted Eddie in his second burst of rambling. Then Dustin piggybacked off of it by hissing “—you just talked over them” with his hands sprawled out in his typical animated manner.

You hadn’t really pushed it, too confused to find it insulting. But, Eddie looked like he was struck, causing him to quickly apologize. The word ‘sorry’ was rushed from his mouth and his eyes skipped over your frame with a certain weariness to them.

...and just like that, you’d had enough. Not that you were angry or upset, you were just worried. Worried that you’d all but broken ‘The’ Eddie Munson, causing your friendship to take a not-so-subtle dive for the worse. So, you casually slipped a tattered note into his ring-clad hand; asking for him to come to your house after school.

When Eddie read the note under the table, he immediately knew that he couldn’t run anymore... not without making it obvious to you. Though, it was already obvious, to begin with.

✝︎

You were sure he’d bailed when the day turned to night, but Eddie proved you wrong when his knuckles wrapped against your bedside window. Music was thrumming lowly from your stereo and a candle was burning on your desk. The overhead light was off, instead, relying on the candle to warm the room in an orange glow.

You were eternally confused on why Eddie always insisted on entering your room through the bedroom window when you had a single floor home and the front door was only ten feet away. But, you opened the window anyway, allowing the lanky boy to crawl inside your house.

Immediately, it was like he brought all the energy with him. He was pacing ever-so-slightly and toying at knickknacks on your shelves. He was explaining why he was late, starting with how his uncle tasked him with chores, then somehow ended up chasing a little dog that got loose from a neighbor’s yard. One story hopped to another when he told you how his neighbor from across the lot, Max, was doing tricks on her skateboard. With each retelling of the events of his day, he turned his head, as if he was searching his mind for the details. Then, suddenly switched to a new tangent, enthusiastically saying “It smells good in here.”

Somewhere in the middle of his endless, adorable babbling, you found a seat on the corner of your bed with your legs tucked beneath you. A pillow had found its way into your lap, and you were twirling at the frayed stitches with your fingers. You nodded along occasionally to his speech, finding genuine interest in his words.

Eddie had just started gushing about his new Metallica ‘Master Of Puppets’ album when his topic change gave you whiplash, “—wait!... so what did you wanna talk about?”

His confused and questioning expression made it seem like you were the one that hadn’t gotten to the point, and the irony of it made you smile in bewildered amusement. Eddie plopped down onto your desk chair, his eyes drifting between you and the candle on your desk. In actuality, he was looking beyond you—his eyes just close enough to give the illusion that he was meeting your stare. He started hovering his fingers over the flame, wiggling them slightly, causing the flame to dance on the wick—like a sorcerer and his conjured spells.

“You’ve been avoiding me, Eddie.” You stated, but the question was there.

His face screwed up in guilt, “... I know.”

A moment passed before he spoke again in a somber voice, “I’m sorry.” His body visibly slouched at the shoulders, mirroring a remorseful child that was scolded for bad behavior. He anxiously toyed with his bottom lip between his teeth and picked at his fingernails.

“Is it because of the other night?...” you asked, pulling your feet from beneath you to place them on the floor.

Eddie swiveled his head slightly to act out a ‘so-so’ movement, “Kinda...”

He watched as you moved the pillow, reaching out with empty hands to grab his. Just as he expected, a subtle ache plucked at his chest. The sensation only amplified when you soothed him with your thumbs, rubbing gentle patterns over his skin.

“Talk to me,” you gently asked. “...please?”

Eddie sat there for a minute, his lips opening and closing, trying to find the words to voice his thoughts. His frustration increased as the words evaded him, his leg picking up to an anxious pace as his nerves bobbed beneath his skin. Admittedly, your adrenaline lurched when he suddenly stood, nearly dragging you with him. He huffed, carding both of his hands through his hair before throwing them to his sides.

“Why is this so god damn difficult?!” He hissed loudly, his hands annunciating his words. His voice was squeaky when distressed.

“Eddie— take your time,” you tried your best to sound reassuring. “No one is rushing you, I’m listening.”

Eddie glanced at you from the side of his eyes before returning to his episode of self-scolding.

“You don’t have to be a poet either—” you promptly added. “There’s no need for a Shakespearean depiction of how you feel, you could sprout a jumbled mess, and I’d still listen to you.”

Eddie returned to wiping frantically at his face as if he could knead the words out of him. But, you gave an exasperated sigh, rushing to stand in front of him to rip his hands from his face. His skin was blooming in an aggravated rash of pink from his hands. You pulled him, guiding him to sit down on your mattress to where you stood over him.

“What if I were to talk?—” you suggested. “Would that help... for you to hear me out, then be able to gather your thoughts together?”

Eddie simultaneously shrugged his shoulders and shook his head―making his anxious confusion all that more apparent. Seeing him this panicked made you feel worried; motivating you to dote on him. You braced your hands on his shoulders, kneading the pads of your fingers into the tension of his muscles. His eyes came to an involuntary close, and his shoulders sagged under your touch.

“Or―we don’t have to talk at all?” you whispered, “We could just stay like this...”

He hummed, his head lulling to the side to rest on your arm.

His comfort didn’t last long― you could imagine the cogs working inside his mind while he wrestled with his thoughts. And, almost like feeling the electricity in the air right before lightning strikes, you could sense that he was about to speak.

He looked so vulnerable beneath you when he tentatively placed his hands upon yours. His eyes finally opened, and you swear they were dewy with unshed tears. “I li— I like you,” he forced the words out with a strained and hesitant voice.

“...like more than— more than a friend.” He grumbled, his eyes flitting over the woven patterns in the rug beneath your feet. Eddie sighed, “for a while now... I don’t know— I was worried that if— if I said anything, it would ruin what we had.” He readjusted in his seat, “...but, I was greedy— and I went ‘n fucked it up anyway.” He finished it off with a cruel laugh.

“Eddie, I—” you began.

“—and even then!— I screwed up.” His voice rose an octave. “I should’ve made it better for you! I should’ve— should’ve made you feel good!” His eyes screwed shut.

You knew that he was self-conscious about the events that transpired when the two of you indulged your desires those days ago. You had tried to reassure him that you hadn’t minded him giving in to the pleasure that you shared— even going as far as to admit that you rather enjoyed making him feel good. Which was true!— you loved the hold that you held over the boy before you.

You removed your hands from his shoulders, moving them to rest on either side of his face. The change wasn’t rushed, allowing for Eddie’s hands to remain on yours.

“Eddie, I like you too.” You said with a solid and confident voice. “I’ve likely felt that way since before I could register what it was that I was feeling...”

Eddie could hear the vulnerability in what you had just admitted. It tempted him to believe you, even though a part of him was convinced it was impossible—despite all reason and logic pointing to the truth.

“—I don’t want you to feel like you screwed up when you were just enjoying yourself in the moment... Especially because I meant what I said—and I wish I took it more seriously if it meant that I could ease how you’re feeling now.” You explained with the utmost honesty.

Eddie contemplated having something to say, but he appreciated not having to when you spoke again in a sultry voice: “... I like making you feel good.”

You could feel the movement of his jaw beneath your hands when he swallowed at your words; a soft sigh falling from his lips.

“I like finding all the little things that make you swoon...” you murmured through a teasing voice. “I enjoy having you be mine— where I can treat you— and dote on you...” with each pause, you raked your fingers through his hair, finding a new place to rest your hands over his frame.

Eddie’s breaths grew long and drawn out— whispers of light moans at the back of his throat, rumbling with each caress.

“I want you, Eddie” you said, each word carrying with it a great magnitude. “Nothing that you could do, would change that.”

Eddie hummed.

“—especially when everything you do is so addicting, making me crave for another hit.” You pulled him in closer, your hands, woven in the hair behind his ears, his face in a comforting embrace by your chest. “...another moan, another whine, and another kiss.”

Eddie’s hands shot to your frame, latching around your waist while the other clenched around the fabric of your shirt. He inhaled your sent, breathing you in to make sure this was real. Once he drew in his breath, a groan was ripped from his throat... not one filled with pleasure, but simply unbridled bliss.

With his arms wrapped around you, he used his access to pull you to sit on his lap. Your bodies were entangled together when his face found itself buried in your neck. It was as if he was trying to press you into him— bringing your bodies impossibly closer to where you could swear you felt his heart beating against your chest. You could feel his teeth graze against your neck before he ripped his face away to look at you.

He grazed the spot on your neck with his finger, swiping over it with a feather-like touch. “...can I— can I kiss you here?” He asked, his eyes forming a dark cesspool from his pupils.

“Mhmm,” you affirmed.

You thought he would begin the assault against your neck, but his hand traveled to your face. Teasing at your bottom lip with his thumb before asking in a low voice, “What about here?...”

You nodded, and that was all he needed before attacking your lips with his own. He started with such fervor and passion that you would think he’d be the one to guide this kiss, but, with one swipe of your tongue, the control changed just like the turning of the tides. You grew intoxicated by the sound of his muffled whines—yet, amused by the fact that he tried so hard to will them away.

He pulled away from the kiss with a subtle gasp, panting slightly before launching to your jaw, burning your skin with the touch of his lips. He carried the rest of his kisses, trailing down your neck, halting just before your clavicle in the place that was still wet from the brush of his teeth. He lapped at the skin before treating it with a wet kiss, topping it off with a nip of his teeth. At the sound of your faint, confounded moan, he bucked up into your hips with a groan. The interaction reminded you of the night in his trailer when he sheepishly apologized for his body’s natural reaction to his pleasure.

He was about to apologize again when his words snapped into a whine at your hand on his throat, roughly guiding him into another kiss. His breath was shuddering in between your mouths, drawing pleased moans from your lips.

“Do you wanna make it up to me?...” you mewled with your forehead pressed against his.

Eddie was going to ask what you meant, but he got his answer when you teased at his belt with your fingers. He lifted his hips into your touch, nonverbally pushing you to continue. Normally, you would tease him by drawing this out— by making him beg you to give him what he wanted. But, that sounded like it would be just as unfair to you as it would be to him—especially when the both of you wanted so badly to take this further.

You made easy work of his belt and then popped the button of his jeans. Eddie wouldn’t admit it, but the slightest pressure of your touch as you unzipped his pants was enough to make his brain short circuit because his senses were hardwired on your every touch. He was the first to break the kiss—he’d make the excuse that it was so he could undress—but, it was really so he could avoid the intense pleasure that just touching you gave him.

You followed his actions, stripping yourself of your jeans and moving after him as he scooted himself further up the mattress. He loved the sight of you as you climbed on all fours to bring yourself to him—he could only imagine how beautiful the sight would be if he was behind you instead. He was about to grab a handful of your ass when you denied him the touch of your supple flesh; instead, bringing his hand to rest flat against your abdomen.

“Take my shirt off, Eddie.” You instructed him. “—I know you want to.”

His eyes, which were glued to his hand atop your stomach, were wretched from the sight to look into your eyes. He moved on instinct, gliding his calloused fingers up your frame over your clothes. He surveyed your body for a moment before bringing his hand back down, performing the same motion, except beneath the cotton fabric of your shirt. When the tips of his fingers met the mound of your breasts, his movements stuttered.

“You-you're not wearing a bra?” He asked, his erection twitched at the realization.

You gently shook your head, smiling at his growing excitement.

Eddie brought his other hand up to aid in the removal of your shirt, and when your bare form was postured before him, he gaped at the sight. You were backlit in an orange glow, the candle encompassing half of you under its hue and the other in shadow.

Eddie brought up both of his hands to rest on your ribs, the cool metal of his rings causing a bristle to rise on your skin. “Touch me, Eddie...” you said, lulled into a rhythmic breath.

His touch was swept up to cup your breasts, his fingers pressing into your skin as he stared at you with adoration. He caught one of them with his mouth, prodding at your nipple with his tongue between his teeth. Your hands found the bottom of his Hellfire shirt, lightly tugging at the fabric. Eddie immediately raised his arms, allowing you to lift it over his shoulders. The two of you managed to find yourselves in the same embrace as before, this time with Eddie making light work at your breast as you shared smoldering kisses. The further the kiss intensified, the more that his body riveted at the passing touches of your skin against his. The slightest graze, working wonders to stimulate his nerves. Those same nerves, nearly imploding when you tugged softly on his hair.

You watched as his eyelashes fluttered at the motion and he hissed inwardly with his breath. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” He moaned while wearing a sloppy, disheveled smile.

With his hair pulled back in your grasp, revealing his neck, you laced his adam's apple with a swipe of your tongue. Keening slightly when his muscle twitched at the stimulation, you peppered his skin in puckered bruises. His skin— now an array of blotted pinks and sultry purples. With each new art piece on his canvased skin, Eddie craned into your lips, mouth forced agape in choked whimpers.

He hoped you hadn’t noticed when his hips picked up a pace, somehow falling in rhythm with the quiet song emitted from your stereo speakers. He hooked his waist in deliberate thrusts; an aching heat brewing at the feel of your plush thigh against his throbbing cock. His labored breaths had quickened, staggering with each prick of sensitivity and slacking with each pull from your tongue.

When you dug your hand into his side, the sudden contrast caused him to lurch forward to sit his forehead on your shoulder, his hips bucking up against your skin.

“...you ready?” You asked with a voice, nearly mocking a twisted innocence before turning sultry and venomous... “—you ready to be inside me?”

Eddie gave a pitiful cry at the thought, the sound instantly cut out by his teeth snapping on his tongue while he nodded enthusiastically into your shoulder. He audibly swallowed, “...yes!—god, yes”

“Let me make you feel good...” Eddie all but begged, “—I wanna make you feel good.”

He could feel your smile against his skin even before he moved to take the sight of you in. He brought his thumb to toy at your clit, hoping to prepare you for taking him in. A moan quivered on his lips when he found how wet you already were for him.

You knew that he slowed down at the realization of how he made you feel, using his lust at the feel of you to your advantage... “You made me like this,” you husked into his ear. He groaned at the words, promptly losing composure when the groan twisted into a sigh. Eddie had to fight off his release when he saw you drag his hand from your clit to take his finger into your mouth. Your tongue, lapping your own fluids from his skin. You hollowed your cheeks around his soiled digit—his mind reeling back to the memory of your lips wrapped around his dick. His jaw hung slack as you slowly drew him from your mouth, his eyes transfixed with arousal. His expression was soon corrupted by a cheeky smile; enamored by your titillating beauty and sensuality.

Stars still danced within eyes when your hand reached for the waistband of his boxer briefs. A darkened splotch on the fabric where his aggravated tip would be, you settled your hand above the fabric when you asked the necessary question, “...is this what you want?”

“I’m yours,” he stated with certainty, his eyes never leaving yours. “—do whatever you want with me.”

You chuckled at his unyielding submission before searching his briefs for his perked cock. You took him in your grasp, pulling him from the confines of the tight fabric. His breath sizzled once he felt your hand around him, his gaze growing ever more wild and playful at the developing realization of what reality had in store for him.

With your other hand, you slid your panties to the side and aligned yourself above him. “Wait!” He ushered out with a new sense of urgency. “—shouldn’t we use a condom?”

“I’m clean,” you replied. “...and I’m on the pill. But, we could use one if you want to?”

“I’m clean too—” he nodded, as to support his words. “...and I’m good if you are.”

You lowered down on him, the arousal on his face increasing as he sunk between your warm folds—a silent moan ripped from his chest when you bottomed out on him. A breathy exhale flows from your mouth at the feel of him. His hands dawned in metallic rings, clutching around the sides of your thighs. A vein pulled tight beneath the skin on his forearm as he held his breath, trying to adapt to the clench of your walls encasing him.

Once you got your bearings, you deliberately ground your hips onto him and he hissed at the sensitivity. “ah” he whimpered in a subtle plea. “—not yet.”

You had intended to hum in response to exclaim your understanding, but instead, it drawled on, simmering on a blissed-out moan. If Eddie were to be honest, he’d voice that hearing you moan on his cock wasn’t helping his predicament... but, at the sound of you feeling good, he felt motivated to pull more pleasured sounds from your lips.

With his hands still relishing in the luscious feel of your thighs, he gently eases you into a hesitant thrust. His core instantly spasmed at the pleasure it gave him. He was so focused on the place where the two of you met in a slick heat that when he glanced up, he was dazzled by your hooded, glazed-over eyes.

You were encoding the sight into memory— the darkened shade of his curls by his face, which were dampened with sweat. The slight tension between his brows, as he tried to thwart the pleasure that you gave him. The way that his lips parted when he tried to quiet his moans by passing them off as lazy breaths. You could grow addicted to this—you would bottle it up and drink it if you could.

Eddie moaned when you regained the control that he had foolishly assumed to be his. You lifted yourself up and down on his cock, rolling your hips to hit his most sensitive places. He wonders if you know what you’re doing to him?—If you were aware that you held him in the palm of your hand. You dragged him closer to his release when you graced his skin with sloppy kisses; your fingers latched onto his roots and weaponizing the slightest pain to twist it into pleasure. You knew that he was getting close when he swallowed a bitter cry, clenching his eyes shut in a private battle with himself.

Just as the coiling tension brews in his abdomen and he feels like he’s seconds from coming undone, you slow to a mind-numbing grind, like a boat on calm waves. His mind sways, just as his balance would with the water beneath him on the bellowing current. He sighs into the motion, the tension easing from his face, an instinctual disappointment taking its place.

Then you propel the pace forward again, settling back into the rhythm you established before. Eddie’s impending orgasm came back with a vengeance, causing little intricacies to fall from his tongue and quiet curses to be whispered into the air.

Even with his blood thrumming behind his ears, he could hear your breath quickening. He could feel the small puffs of wind fan against his neck. With each moan that you released, picking up at the ends with an addicting sound— he was practically thrown into his pleasure. This time, he was content with getting there... so long as he brought you there with him. He rubbed circles at your clit with his thumb, floating on the sound that it pulled from your throat.

“...you’re so beautiful—” he sighed with a voice mirroring his pleasure, following it with little complements, slurred together on rushed lips.

“—I’m gonna cum,” He murmured. He tried to open his eyes to take you in, but he couldn’t see clearly through the haze, which clouded his vision.

You slowed to a stop again, and Eddie couldn’t stop the plea that fell from his lips. He sought solace in your shoulder, planting the crook of your neck with a warm kiss. He huffed heavy pants into your skin, his chest rising with the air in his lungs.

You adjusted yourself slightly, fighting a neediness of your own— wanting nothing more but to engage in your pleasure until your climax... Wanting nothing more, except to draw further sounds of bliss from Eddie’s lips.

You bucked your hips onto him again, his fingers quickly following to return to his pursuit of your orgasm. The two of you were a harmony of moans— his were breathy and filled with need— and yours were sultry and sweet. Eddie’s thrusts were becoming sloppy, meeting resistance in his aching limbs and glazed over mind. He had been reduced to desperate pants into your shoulder as his hand fumbled at your side, pulling you into a lazy embrace.

“―cum inside me, Eddie” you sang in a dreamy voice, filled with pleasure-fueled exhaustion.

You clenched around him with a honey-soaked sob and he clasped his teeth onto your shoulder to stifle his choked, startled moan—his hips snapping into you with one final thrust. You hummed as you felt him fill you with his release, continuing to roll yourself onto him; each motion drawing an airy moan from his lips.

After the two of you had ridden out your orgasms, left in a mixture of spent pants, he leaned further into you. His face went slack on your shoulder and you caressed his hair with your hand. He strained his blissed senses to process it when you set a tender kiss behind his ear— the display, filled with affection and unbridled compassion. Your unattended hand found its way to his arm, tracing your fingers over the faded tattoo that resided within the texture of his skin.

You could feel the faint semblance of a smile on his lips from where they resided against your shoulder. In a voice similar to the one adorned in the waking morning, you purred: “...was it how you imagined it?”

He huffed a quiet laugh, “Honestly?— no...” His voice sunk into a whisper, “I wanted to whisk you off your feet...” Eddie spoke with both hinted shyness and unmatched amusement, “—but, I guess it was the other way around.”

You pressed the side of your cheek into his and deepened the embrace between you— sighing at the feel of your mixed pleasure seeping slightly from you.

“Trust me, lover boy...” you cooed into his ear. “—I’m yours.”

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