#stranger kinks

[handful0fteeth]

pull on your pout (just open your mouth)

kintober day 1: pegging

summary: eddie has some kinks he's never told anyone about, let alone explored, and you're more than happy to help him out.

pairings: eddie munson x fem!reader (eddie munson x afab!reader if you squint)

warnings: smut, minors DNI, explicit language, lots of dirty talk, sub!eddie, dom!reader, rough sex, (mild) painplay, (slight) puppy play

words: 4.5k

The moment you laid eyes on Eddie Munson, you knew you had to make him scream.

He was so pretty, so cocksure as he floated through the crowd of the metal show you’d happened to meet at, and his easy smile ignited something within you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. A few people called out greetings as he strolled past them, and he’d return them in kind, either with a flourish of his hand or an exaggerated bow. He had a red cup he’d been sipping from when he sauntered up to where you were, leaned against a metal barricade just after the show ended, and the grin he flashed over the lip of it only confirmed your newfound desire.

“Mind if I bum one of those off you?” he asked, pointing a ringed finger at the cigarette that dangled from your mouth. You puffed once, twice, looking him over in thought before reaching into your skirt's waistband and pulling out your pack.

“Thanks, gorgeous,” he crooned. He plucked a cigarette out and tucked it between his lips, shifting his cup to his opposite hand so he could pat down his pockets, clearly in search of something. After a moment, you reached into your shirt and retrieved your lighter from its place inside your bra.

“Need a light?” you asked, flicking the wheel and illuminating Eddie’s face with firelight. His dark eyes, smeared in black kohl, glittered at you, and the way his smile stretched around the cigarette as he bent toward your flame made your stomach flip. He smelled of cheap weed and beer, sweat and cigarette smoke, cologne and earth - you had to physically restrain yourself from leaning down and taking an indulgent whiff of his hair only because you knew it’d make you look like an absolute lunatic.

“Much obliged,” he said, smoke curling from his full, pink lips. You watched them purse, and his cheeks hollowed as he sucked on his smoke, the end flaring cherry red, before he tipped his head back and exhaled audibly. When his eyes met yours again, you realized they sparkled all on their own without the assistance of a lighter.

“Wha’s your name?” His speech was just the slightest bit slurred, and you huffed out a laugh before angling your body toward him.

“Y/N. Yours?”

“Eddie Munson. ‘S a pleasure.” He draped one arm across his stomach while the other swept out dramatically behind him - unfortunately, it just so happened to be the arm that clutched his drink. As he bowed toward you, his hand accidentally tipped his cup just a little too far, and dark liquid began to pour out onto the asphalt freely. It splattered noisily for a few seconds before Eddie seemed to realize what he’d done, and he swore as he straightened up and snatched his arm back. 

“Fuck. Aw, well, ‘s for the best, I guess,” he reasoned, staring into the nearly empty cup as if it’d personally offended him. You surmised that, at this moment, it probably had. “Tastes like shit anyway.”

Even in his inebriated state, talking to him was easier than talking to most men - hell, it was easier than talking to most people in general. No awkward silences or lulls compelled you to drag on your cigarette just to give your mouth something to do - the words flowed out of you effortlessly, as if you’d known him for years. His laugh was like music, loud and sincere, bursting out of his mouth with abandon even when you didn’t think you’d said anything amusing. He kept edging closer and closer to you the entire conversation, and you let him, mainly because you wanted a closer look at his pretty face.

His hair, long and curly and matted to his forehead with sweat, coiled softly around his high, pale cheeks, and if you’d had enough alcohol in you, you would’ve reached up and pushed a lock behind his ear for him. He towered over you, which made the filthy thoughts swirling around in your head all the more thrilling. Something inside you, something mean and wicked, wanted to make this boy cry beneath you.

When Eddie stumbled into you, tripping over his own two feet, you asked if he needed a ride home. He shook his head but didn’t move to pull away from you. His hand was behind your body, curled onto the barricade for purchase, and you were so close you could feel the warmth radiating off his body as you tilted your head up to look into his eyes.

“Got a friend ‘m stayin’ with,” he murmured, hooking a thumb over his shoulder. “I’ll be okay. You can gimme your number though if you wan’ me to call you when I get to where I’m goin’.”

It was so forward that had it come out of anyone else’s mouth, you would’ve snorted and left him cold. Eddie wasn’t anyone else, though.

“You got a pen?”

Shockingly, he did - he extracted a fat-tipped permanent marker from the pocket of his leather jacket. You kept it to yourself how funny it was that he didn’t have a lighter but was carrying around a huge marker.

Without missing a beat, you lifted a hand and tugged down the collar of his shirt, exposing the creamy flesh of his collarbone. The little whoosh of air that left his lips didn’t escape you as you touched the felt tip of the marker to his skin and slowly wrote down your phone number. Beneath it, you signed your name and punctuated it all with a small, black heart. Eddie stayed still as stone while you wrote on him. It was as if your audacity, the arrogance of marking his flesh, had shocked him into a state of placidity. 

When your eyes met again, there was a heat in his gaze that hadn’t been there moments before. You smirked, capped the marker, and slipped it back inside his jacket.

“Make sure you call,” you said, your voice low. “You wouldn’t wanna worry me, now would you?”

Eddie shook his head slowly, almost dazedly. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed and flashed him a cloyingly sweet smile. 

“Good.” You raised one hand and rested it gently against his cheek, silently reveling in how tiny shivers rippled throughout his entire body at your touch, and patted him on the face condescendingly. You swore that, for a moment, right as you were pulling your hand away, you saw Eddie go to lean into your touch.

“I’ll be waiting.”

With that, you untucked yourself from against Eddie’s body and traipsed away.

He did, in fact, call you the very next morning and ask you on a proper date.

Whether or not that date ended up with Eddie fucking your brains out while you bent over the front seat of his van, scratching grooves into the cracked leather seats and practically drooling at the way his cock felt as it drilled inside you, was another matter entirely. (It did; you offered to help pay to fix the upholstery; Eddie refused, and the scratches still stare up at you knowingly every time you enter the van.)

That said, it didn’t take long at all to figure out that sometimes - a surprising number of “sometimes” - Eddie loved foisting control over to you just as much as he loved wrenching it away. He’d first admitted as much a few weeks after you started seeing each other. You’d been making out, ass planted firmly in his lap and hands plunged in his thick mass of hair when you gave a handful at the nape of his neck an experimental tug. Nothing too hard, just a test of the waters.

Eddie moaned.

He looked positively scandalized the second the sound had left his mouth, but you didn’t give him enough time to be embarrassed. Instead, you twisted your hand, yanking the curls in your fist until they were taut; Eddie’s eyes rolled into the back of his head, lids fluttering, and his jaw dropped wide open to loose another pathetic, delicious sound.

“That feel good, baby?” you asked. 

“Y-Yeah,” he whined. You slackened your grip just enough to let his head bob forward a bit and then snatched it straight back by tangling both hands in the hair on either side of his neck. He sat up straighter, his spine snapping into one long line as you gave him a wolfish grin. You only paused when you noticed the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

“D’you need me to ease up?” You would have, of course, in a heartbeat - pain for pleasure’s sake was one thing, but it was another thing entirely to inflict pain just for the hell of it, especially when the person you were inflicting pain on couldn’t handle it. But Eddie just blinked at you, his brown eyes glossy and distant, almost as if he was starting to drift off somewhere, and smiled dreamily.

“No,” he said. “Pull harder.”

And so you did.

Later, when he was bucking into you from below, keening and whimpering like he was dying, scalp no doubt burning from the consistent abuse you’d demonstrated toward his hair, you leaned down into his ear and asked him if he liked when you hurt him like this. 

“Yes, fuck,” he gasped. “I love it, I love it, please, more, please.”

“You think I should do this more often? Hm?”

“Whenever you want, Jesus Christ.” His back arched beautifully as you dragged your long, sharp nails down his bare chest, staining his pale skin with angry red lines. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, fucking into you desperately, unable to contain himself.

“You like it when I mark you up?” you growled, determined to stay focused through the stars exploding behind your eyes and the pleasure burning its way through your body. “When I own you like this? You’re just a little painslut for me, aren’t you, baby?”

When Eddie came, and he came hard, he was sobbing, “Yes, yes, yes, own me, use me, fuck, hurt me, I’m yours.”

You made sure that afterward when you could extricate yourselves from his bed, you took great care in tenderly washing and kissing the marks you left on him in the shower. You also washed his hair for him, choosing to massage his stinging scalp for so long the water was cold by the time you both hopped out. 

You asked him later, while he was snuggled up behind you in his bed, arms wrapped possessively around your middle and nose buried in your wet hair, if he really, really liked everything you’d done.

“Most definitely,” he murmured, kissing your neck. 

“You made such pretty sounds,” you said, and Eddie squirmed. He could sing your praises all day, wax poetic about how beautiful and sexy and perfect he thought you were, but when you returned that sentiment in kind, he tended to shrink. You resolved to fix that habit at a later date.

“You never told me you liked all that,” you said, reaching back to rest a hand on his flank. “I woulda done it sooner.”

“You never asked,” Eddie said simply. “‘Sides, that stuff is tame compared to other shit I’m interested in.”

Oh? Eddie tensed as soon as it seemed to register what he’d said, but you couldn’t stop yourself. He piqued your curiosity; that wasn’t your fault, and besides - you needed to know what else could make Eddie Munson whine for you immediately.

“You don’t say? Pray tell, what would be that ‘other shit?’”

“Uh…sorry, can’t hear you, sleeping.” He crushed himself against your back and faked a loud, raucous snore right in your ear. You laughed, and to his credit, he did actually fall asleep rather quickly after that, but you both knew you weren’t going to let that go so easily.

It took a while, months, before you could chip away at the embarrassment barring you from all of Eddie’s desires. You never pushed, never wanted to make him feel like he had to tell you anything, just gently encouraged him by promising there was nothing he could say that would scare you off or gross you out. Mostly, Eddie just liked pain - receiving and giving. He made the sweetest sounds when you satiated the more masochistic side of him: slapping him squarely across the face, scoring marks into his smooth back and chest, winding his hair around your fist, and pulling. 

He liked it when you whispered filthy, degrading things into his ear, too, possibly even more than the pain. You discovered how deeply he appreciated being called a slut early on, but it wasn’t until one night when you were riding him into the mattress, that the phrase “good dog” tumbled past your lips without much thought. Eddie’s orgasm swept through him without warning, and you drank in the shocked, blissed-out expression that contorted his face while making a mental note of that particular kink.

His final confession came after the fog of intoxication had settled over the pair of you one day, beer and weed buzzing through your veins and making Eddie’s inhibitions low enough to admit that he’d always, secretly, been curious about what it’d feel like to get fucked in the ass.

“Oh?”

“I…yeah, I guess,” he said, throwing an arm over his eyes as he lay on his back. 

“How curious are we talkin’ here?”

“Like…I dunno…very?”

“Baby. Look at me.”

One of your favorite things about Eddie was how quickly he obeyed when you lowered your voice. It was like it didn’t even occur to him not to listen. He peeked at you from around his forearm.

“Do you want me to fuck you in the ass, puppy?”

The sweet, high noise that bubbled up his throat as he nodded stoked that need in your belly, which demanded you do everything in your power to bring Eddie to tears as he writhed underneath you. 

That conversation is how you got here tonight.

Eddie waits for you patiently on his bed, naked, rolled onto all fours with his head bowed low between his shoulders, the pale globes of his ass arched skyward. His dark curls pool around his face, so you can’t see it, but you watch his back rise and fall rapidly with his breathing, and the backs of his thighs are trembling with anticipation. 

Fenagling a strap-on is more challenging than you’d originally thought. Slotting the dildo into place was unexpectedly tricky - it’s one you purchased years ago, and admittedly, the pink, sparkling hunk of silicone looks a little silly nestled amongst the otherwise imposing black material. But when Eddie caught a glimpse of it coming out of your bag tonight, his eyes went wide as saucers, and it took a moment for his brain to stop short-circuiting enough to carry on a conversation with you. You told him to stay put while you fought with the smooth, cold leather around your hips, and he has, wanting so badly to be good for you. His cock hangs hard and flushed between his hips, twitching intermittently as precum beads from the tip and drools onto his bedsheets.

“Just a minute longer, puppy. Are you okay?” you call, and Eddie nods.

“‘M fine, angel.”

“Good. Why don’t you stroke your cock while I finish up here, hm?”

He obeys, slipping a hand down between his legs to grip the base of his cock. His body slumps slightly, and he turns his head out as it’s pressed into the sheets. Eddie mewls softly as you tighten the last strap against your thigh, and you steal a glance at him. His fist moves slowly over himself, stroking from base to tip and then back again in carefully measured pumps. 

He doesn’t notice when you sidle up behind him, totally unaware of your presence, until you drag your nails featherlight over the back of his legs. He shudders, gasping sharply through his teeth, and his hand stills on his cock.

“Will you hand me the lube, baby?”

Eddie releases his dick to pat a hand around the bed, and eventually, he presses the small, cylindrical bottle of lube into your palm. It’s half-empty, thoroughly used in the weeks leading up to tonight, and the plastic sticks to your skin a bit as you snap the cap open and drizzle lubricant onto your first two fingers.

He’s taken more than just two fingers, many times now - a few nights ago, you squeezed four inside his ass before he came all over his stomach. You’ve taken this entire process very slowly, partially because you’d hate to hurt the poor thing and ruin his fantasy before it even really had a chance to begin and partially because you just love how he cries when you tease him open nice and lazily. 

You lean over him, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades as you swipe a dollop of lube over his hole. He hisses, flinching away from your fingers a bit.

“Cold,” he complains, and you shush him gently.

“I know, baby. Just relax, you’re shakin’ like a leaf.”

“‘M excited,” Eddie mumbles, and you kiss his back again.

You swirl your fingers around his puckered hole, teasing the rim and nudging the tips just the slightest bit inside to coax the muscle into softening for you. Eddie sighs and shifts a bit so he can grab his cock again.

When you press your index finger inside him, up to the first knuckle, Eddie keens and drives his face into the bed. That just won’t do.

“Uh uh,” you admonish. Your free hand tangles in his hair at the root, and you yank his head back up, forcing him to steady himself on one elbow. He gasps, then whines, trying to cast a look over his shoulder at you. 

“You don’t hide from me,” you remind him. “‘Specially when it muffles those pretty noises. Understand?”

“Y-Yes. Sorry, angel,” he breathes, and the slick, hurried sounds below you alert you to how much faster he’s stroking his cock now. You probe your fingers inside him further, watching and waiting for any sign of distress or pain he doesn’t enjoy until you’ve sunk all the way to the top of your palm. After you’ve given him a moment to adjust, you pull out almost entirely and bend over him until your chest presses into his back. 

“D’you remember what you say if you can’t take it, puppy?” you whisper against the shell of his ear. He shivers and nods.

“Mmhm. Mercy,” he says. 

“Good boy, that’s right. Feel that?” You release your hold on his hair to fist the dildo in your hand and tap it against where your fingers stretch his hole. Eddie chokes on the breath he tries to suck in, and his hips stutter forward.

“This is goin’ in your ass tonight, baby. Do you think you can handle all that?”

“Fuck, yes, yes, I can,” he assures you. 

“Yeah? Gotta finger you open first. Make sure you’re ready. Although, I bet you’d love it if I just stuffed my cock inside you right now.” You never would, and you both know that; you mutually agreed that foregoing necessary prep work would end disastrously. But the way Eddie swears and clenches around the tips of your fingers is so fucking cute that, for a moment, you’re tempted.

You drive your fingers inside him again, pumping it in and out fast enough that Eddie doesn’t have a moment to catch his breath. He splutters pathetically below you, bucking into his hand while simultaneously trying to fuck himself back on your fingers, and you just let him - far be it from you to deny yourself the pleasure of watching Eddie Munson act like a complete slut.

A few minutes pass before you feel comfortable enough to add a third finger inside his ass, and this time you purposefully thrust them right against his prostate. His back curls like a cat’s before he allows himself to fall flat on his face. He’s a wonderful, obedient boy because he makes sure no sheets or pillows obstruct his pretty mouth, just as you asked.

“Fuck, that feels so fucking good, angel, Christ,” he moans, brows knitted together so tight he almost looks pained. “More, please, I want more. I can take it.”

“Aww, my puppy’s so excited,” you croon, and he nods fervently. You crook your fingers and settle them deep inside his ass, circling that sensitive bundle of nerves until he’s panting and thrusting sloppily into his fist. You could make him cum like this, you know you could, but where’s the fun in that? You want him to cum on your strap-on; you want him to experience spasming around something thick and hard and unrelenting, just as he’s fantasized about. 

He hiccups when you slot your pinky finger inside his ass alongside the three other slick digits. When you start pumping into him earnestly, spreading all four fingers inside the loosening ring of muscle, Eddie gives you what you’ve been craving since the moment you met.

Eddie cries.

Sobs wrack his lithe frame as you work him open, dribbling more lube onto his hole and pressing it inside. If you weren’t so turned on that your pussy was drooling down your thigh, you might’ve giggled at the obscene, wet sounds his ass made every time you stuffed him full again. 

“You’re doing such a good job taking it, puppy. My good little slut. That’s what you are, huh?”

“U-Uh-huh, shit.”

“I know, baby, I know. You’re so pathetic for me, crying on my fingers like this. You gonna cry on my cock, too?”

“If you - fucking hell - if you want me to, angel,” he offers, and you laugh, licking a stripe up the side of his neck. His skin is rich with the salt of his sweat, and you can’t help yourself. You force his head to one side with a hand in his hair and follow the trail you licked with your teeth, setting their edge against his soft, welcoming flesh until you bite. Eddie whimpers and trembles for you, so pretty, so perfect, and you bite him even harder. You want him to bruise; you want him to walk around Hawkins tomorrow with your mark proudly emblazoned on his pale throat. 

“I-I need, I need, angel, I n-need,” Eddie stammers, breath coming in shallow, short puffs around the fragments of his sentence. You detach your teeth from his neck and straighten back up.

“You need? What do you need?”

“You, I need you,” he weeps. “Need you inside me, please, please, I can’t take it anymore-”

“You’ll take whatever I decide you’ll take, puppy,” you say. When you pull all four fingers out of Eddie’s twitching hole, he cries out like he’s in pain, like you���re trying to kill him. You admire your handiwork, spreading his ass apart with both hands and watching his red, slick hole flutter as it attempts to remain open despite its newfound emptiness. 

“You’re so beautiful down here. All gaped open for me like a whore.” Eddie nods, though you aren’t sure if he actually registers anything you’re saying. He’s so blissed out already, so eager, you think he’d agree to whatever happened to fall out of your mouth right now.

“What color are you on, Eds?” you ask, and the way your voice swings upward into its usual cadence seems to snap him back to reality. He reaches for you, fingers outstretched until they manage to graze your thigh and squeezes it in reassurance.

“Green. I’m so fuckin’ green, baby.”

You smile. “Yeah? Havin’ fun?”

“Absolutely. I’m alright, angel, don’t worry.”

“Alright. Keep yourself spread for me, puppy. I wanna watch my cock disappear inside you.”

Eddie swears and complies instantly, releasing his slippery, dark red cock and placing both hands on either side of his ass. He pulls his cheeks apart dutifully, black nails digging into plush flesh, and even deepens the arch in his back for you as he settles into this new position. 

You slather an abundance of lube on your dildo, so much that it drips onto the sheets, and line the head up with Eddie’s hole. 

“Ready?”

“Mmm.”

“Take a deep breath, baby.”

The head pops in with little to no resistance, vanishing completely inside Eddie’s hole, and though you obviously can’t feel it, a moan tumbles out of your throat. It’s so fucking hot, seeing Eddie like this, knowing you’re the cause of it, and it takes quite a bit of self-control not just to feed him the rest of your cock right away and pound him into the mattress. He’d like it, too, the slut. But you refrain.

You drag in a breath through your teeth and press into him slowly, filling him bit by agonizing bit, and he voices his need loudly beneath you. One hand claws his mattress desperately, almost like he’s trying to crawl away, while the other jerks his swollen cock thoughtlessly, and it seems all he knows how to say right now is “please.” Please, please, please. After a while, when you’re more than halfway inside him, the word loses all meaning for you. You have to wonder if it even had meaning for Eddie in the first place or if it was just the only one his brain could conjure up to say.

“That’s it, baby, look at you,” you pant. Your hips are pressed flush to Eddie’s ass, the dildo buried inside him to the base. He writhes, gasping, sputtering, the picture of desperation. You want to keep him this way forever - speared on your dick, aching for it, needing you more than air, crying so prettily just for you. It’s selfish, but fuck, maybe you’re okay with that.

“Do you need a second, puppy?”

“No,” he wails, apparently offended by the question. He bucks against you so hard you almost lose your balance, and you steady yourself by laying your hands over where he’s still spreading himself. “God, fuck me, fuck me please, fuck my ass, angel, I’m going fucking crazy here.”

A wicked smirk curls across your lips. If that’s what he wants, who are you to deny him? That’d just be plain mean.

You yank him toward you, dragging him to the very edge of the bed, causing him to lose his balance - and his grip on his ass. Before he can collect himself, you gather his wrists into one hand and pin them to the small of his back. It looks a bit silly, you have to admit; his hands are so much bigger than yours, rough and callused from hours of guitar practice, and truthfully, if he wanted to break free of your grasp, he could do so with not even half the strength you’re currently exerting just to keep him somewhat contained. But that’s the beauty of Eddie’s submission - he doesn’t want to break free. He wants to be manhandled, thrown around like he’s so much smaller and weaker than he truly is; he wants to be used.

Most importantly, he wants you to use him.

It’s fucking intoxicating.

You twist a long, thick rope of his hair around your free hand and tug his head back, forcing his gaze skyward. You notice the shimmer of drool on the corner of his lips and chuckle.

“You wanna take it, then take it.”

You pull out, just until the very edge of the dildo is left inside Eddie’s quivering hole, and then slam back inside him again. He slackens against you, and you’re confident he would collapse if you weren’t forcing him up by the hair. You can see his lashes twitching, no doubt from his eyes rolling straight into the back of his head. Your name wrapped inside his wrecked, watery voice is all you need to keep thrusting.

You set a brutal pace almost immediately. Eddie’s bed squeaks and rattles from the force of it, lifting far enough off the ground that the frame starts to screech into the adjacent wall. The sound of Eddie’s strained, keening cries, punctuated by skin slapping viciously against skin, is like the sweetest harmony you’ve ever heard. You pull him toward you, forcing him almost back on his haunches and plaster sloppy, open-mouthed kisses across his back and shoulders.

“You’re doing so fucking good, puppy,” you grunt. “You’re taking it like a fuckin’ pro. So hard for me, too, I bet you’re just aching, huh?”

All Eddie can do is nod. You twist your hand, compelling him to turn his face toward you, and crane your neck to capture his lips in a kiss that’s mostly teeth and tongue. He whimpers into your mouth, allowing you to lick your way inside and swallow all the beautiful, agonized sounds he’s making just for you. You don’t have enough hands, you decide - you need more to scratch him with, to stroke his cock, to choke him and slap him and make him gag on your fingers. You need more of him; you need to take anything that he can give you all for yourself. It belongs to you, just as he does.

The possessiveness that burns through your belly spurs you on, and you growl filth huskily into his ear. “You’re mine, you understand that? Mine. No one else’s ever gonna make you feel this good, are they, puppy?”

“N-No, angel, jus’ you…yours, all yours,” he slurs. 

“That’s right. Your pretty little hole is mine, mine to fuck and fill as much as I want, isn’t it?”

“Fuck, uh huh, yes.”

“Next time, I’m gonna fuck you on your back. Have you spread your legs for me like a little whore. I wanna watch your face while I wreck you, watch how much of a cockslut you are-”

“Jesus Christ, God, angel, I-I’m cumming, I can’t st-ah!”

Eddie shudders and falls silent for a moment, just long enough for you to look around his shoulder and see how his cock pulses before the first rope of cum splatters onto the sheets below. Then, Eddie screams. It’s a sound torn straight from the depths of his soul, suffering and ecstasy all rolled into one perfect package. You keep fucking him through the shockwaves of his orgasm and watch the cum dribble down his throbbing cock, spilling onto the bed and dripping messily down his thighs. 

“That’s my good boy, you did so fuckin’ well for me, baby,” you coo. “You didn’t even have to touch yourself, I’m so proud of you, sweet thing.”

It takes a while for Eddie to come back down to Earth after that. He mumbles nonsense as you ease out of his ass and lower him onto the bed - in a dry, unsullied portion next to the wall - and doesn’t even notice when you leave for a moment to grab a wet, warm washcloth to clean him up with. He seems to snap out of his haze when you loosen the harness straps, and it falls to the ground with a thud.

He reaches for you wordlessly, long, thin fingers shaking as he clenches and unclenches them against his palm. Your heart swells and aches inside your chest as you clasp his hand and press a kiss to the back of it. 

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” you repeat. You gingerly brush a lock of hair out of Eddie’s face, revealing his flushed, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips. He blinks wet lashes at you, brown eyes foggy and unfocused. His smile is sweet, shy even, and he tucks himself against you as you settle into bed.

“Wanna…do that again,” he rasps after you’ve wrapped him up in your arms. You chuckle and kiss the top of his head.

“We can do that whenever you’d like, sweet thing.”

He hums in approval. You lay like that for a while, bodies curled around each other, stroking Eddie’s cheek and occasionally pressing a kiss to his temple. You don’t realize you’ve nearly dozed off until Eddie calls your name, and you shake yourself awake.

“Hm?”

“D’you hear what I said?”

“No, puppy, I’m sorry. What was that?”

“I said my arm’s asleep.”

You snort, and so does Eddie as he rolls himself out from under you enough to free his tingling appendage. He drapes it around your shoulders, and this time, he drags you in against his chest. His hair tickles your cheek as he kisses the tip of your nose.

“Thank you,” he breathes. 

“My pleasure. Oh, and baby?”

“Hm?”

“Next time, you’re taking something bigger.”

The shiver slithering Eddie’s spine tells you all you need to know.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #eddie munson smut #fluff and smut #smut fic #x reader #sub!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x y/n smut #eddie munson x you smut #f!reader #smut #stranger kinks #my writing

[ryan-waddell11]

Wayne saying that his nephew looks scary is so shocking to me. especially in this scene because he’s so fucking pretty all I want to do is kiss him.

#eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #stranger things vol 1 #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things 4 #the hellfire club #netflix #joe quinn #eddie deserves better #actual love of my life #stranger things vol 2 #eddie munson graduated #loml energy #i’m looking respectfully #corroded coffin #the best dungeon master #maybe just me #is this a kink? #he gives me butterflies #his big beautiful eyes and pink kissable lips #god hes so fine #seriously i’ll never get over my crush on him #comfort boy for life #please bring my boy back #he deserves better #kas the bloody handed

[italiansteebie]

It was a thing, to not touch Steve’s hair. Like a “hands off,” “Your ass is grass,” thing. And as adamant as he was, Steve never gave a reason. Just a wave of his hand and a simple, “Just don’t.” Now, some of the kids, well most of them, were respectful enough to follow that one simple rule, Mike had tried it once. 

The grip around his wrist and the fire in his babysitter's eyes was enough to drive the nail through the head. For the kids, that is. Eddie, however, thought it was funny, and he was determined to find why Steve was so protective over his “precious” hair. 

He tried bugging him, annoying him to the point where he just got fed up and told him, and he tried making up crazy conspiracies like a 100 Karat gold shampoo that “us mere mortals were not worthy enough to touch.” 

Robin tried to tell Eddie to just back off, tired of hearing Steve gripe about it all day at work, but of course it didn’t work, until Eddie suffered the same wrath Mike had. And god. He didn’t know King Steve had that much in him, but he saw how much it bugged Steve so he finally let it go. 

It wasn’t long after that that everybody found out just exactly why Steve hated them touching his hair. 

They were all piled up in Eddie’s trailer, kids on the floor buried in a mountain of blankets, respective couples holding hands and chatting, and the older kids up on the couch in their very own mountain of blankets. 

Robin and Nancy were wrapped up in eachother, not bothering to pay attention to the movie, let alone anyone else in the room. Steve and Eddie, who were curled up together, had already shared a smug smile in their direction, but they too got caught up in each other quickly following that. 

Steve had rested his head on Eddie's shoulder, reveling in the feeling of his gentle hand running up and down his back. Eddie, in no mind of his own, buried a hand in Steve’s hair just at the nape of his neck and tugged on it gently. A weak noise came out of Steve after a few minutes, when Eddie finally realized what he was doing.  

He moved to stop but cast a quick glance at Steve’s face, preparing for the anger that faced him, but to his surprise, he saw Steve blissed out in a way he’d never seen before. That is, at least with the children around. He knocked that thought out of his head before gently kicking Mike who was propped up against the couch below him.

The grimace on the kids face was hilarious but the way it transformed into some kind of smug, awe, was even better. Eddie kept the movement up, Steve slipping further into that melty, dreamy, headspace, unbeknownst to the attention that was being cast at him. “Watch this,” Eddie whispered.

“Hey Stevie,”

“Hmm?”

“Can you drive all the kids up to Indy tomorrow?”

“Mmmhmm.”

The kids thought this was the best thing ever, Nancy and Robin watched for a moment too, with slight grins before they turned back into their own little world.

“Hey, Steve. Can we burn your house down?” Dustin piped up.

“Yeah. Mmmmmmhmm.” was all he got in return.

“No way! He’s like putty in your hands Eddie! This is great! Ask him if we can host Hellfire at his house.” Mike said, already forming the plans in his brain. Eddie rolled his eyes, and cut them off with minimal whining from Micheal. 

When Steve was coherent again, he was subject to relentless teasing, mostly from the kids and a little bit from Robin. He hushed them, just a tad annoyed, but that went away when Eddie whispered his plans for Steve’s hair in his ear. Suddenly he wasn’t annoyed at the kids’ antics, but his face was redder than a tomato. A reaction in which Eddie had more than enough fun with.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #hair #hair kink #soft dom eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #ficlet #steddie fic #steddie ficlet

[ssweetleaf]

pretty.

step-daddy!steve harrington x step-daughter!reader

summary: your step daddy finds you fast asleep, but can’t seem to shift the thought of filling you— of ruining your chances of being with any other boy that wasn’t him.

includes: SMUT 18+, dub-con, inappropriate relationship, age-gap, somno, fingering, daddy kink, allusions to unprotected p in v

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Peeking through the crack in your door, Steve watched your sweet form, sleeping soundly, sprawled out on your front on your pretty pink duvet— soft little snores escaped your lips, occasionally shifting in your sleep, the irresistible globes of your ass visible with the way your nightgown rode upwards.

His beautiful girl, so worn out and soft, he could already feel his cock hardening from the mere thought of why you were so sleepy— little flashbacks of earlier on littered his brain, his nimble fingers inside your panties, playing idly with your clit.

“It hurts, daddy! Need your help.” You had whined, nudging your nose against his cheek and tugging at his arm, so glad he had come back from work early just to see his best girl.

So, he had helped you, stopped your poor little clit from hurting and made you cum, spasming around nothing and moaning out a constant mantra of daddydaddydaddy.

But now it was his turn, he thought, pushing his door open and letting himself inside your cute little space.

He just couldn’t help himself, for a while it had just been foreplay, letting you practice sucking his cock and having him circle your pretty clit once he was finished, but it was time for something different.

His greedy cock was bored of your mouth, no matter how warm and slick it was, he needed something tighter, something spongy and gummy for him to piston into. And that something was your sweet little cunt— just the mere thought of it fluttering around his length, barely being able to take even half of it, it had him pulling a lip between his teeth to stifle a groan.

So there you lay, his dearest, darling girl, back arched so prettily, your cotton panties wedged between the fat of both ass cheeks, and he made sure to get a closer look— the outline of your puffy pussy lips was sheer through the fabric, pulled taut, a little wet spot covering the space where your hole would be.

You were always so wet for him, whether you liked it or not.

Steve reached out a hand, fingertips tracing the length of your slit from over your panties, watching with a lift of his lip at the way your hips wiggled at his touch— even in your sleep you were drawn to your daddy, leaning into his touch in dream state, you were probably dreaming of him anyway. Dreaming of him defiling you.

His lips quirked at the sweet sound of a whine escaping your lips, mindlessly trying to squeeze your thighs together and lodging his hand even closer towards your pussy in the process.

He managed to hook his intrusive fingers underneath the elastic of your panties, shuffling the crotch to the side and letting the pads of his fingers really feel. Your wetness coated his skin immediately, saturating his flesh just like you saturated your poor panties, your sweet arousal dripping in surges from your untouched hole.

He had to adjust himself at the feeling, palming his crotch and pulling at the fabric of his slacks that suddenly became a little too tight.

“Such a dirty girl,” he huffed out, his unoccupied hand pulling your thighs apart as best as he could to get a closer look. “always such a greedy girl, thinking about your daddy all the time, hm, honey?”

He smirked— if you were awake he was sure you’d give him one of your little scoldings of daddy, you can’t say stuff like that, your cheeks would heat up and you’d refuse to make eye contact, but being sound asleep you just took what he gave, and that included his crude little utterings.

Slowly, he circled a finger around your opening, prodding at it teasingly, letting all your arousal to soak his digit before slipping it inside. You sucked him up immediately, walls contracting around the intrusion and you moaned against the pillow, still sleeping soundly.

Stevie had always wondered how tight you were, an untouched little dove like you he couldn’t even begin to comprehend it— but now, with his finger shoved inside, curling up into your special spot, he could barely find a thought, especially with the immense throbbing of his cock.

Once he slipped a second finger inside you, in attempt to stretch you out a little more, you stirred, eyes fluttering open, entirely confused before turning to see the sweet presence of your daddy.

You gave him a dumb little smile, unaware of what was going on until you realised how full you were, how good it felt.

“D-daddy—” you gasped, leaning on your elbows, cheeks heating at how embarrassed you were, just letting him fill you with his fingers while you were sound asleep.

“Shh,” he cooed, stroking your hair with the hand that wasn’t inside you, grazing your cheek with his knuckle to have you settle down. “were practically begging for it, honey— like a little bunny in heat.”

You whined at his words, backing up into his touch and clenching around him.

“S’good daddy’s here, hm?” He spoke, “poor little pussy would be lost without me, wouldn’t she?”

So filthy, you thought, your ears not entirely used to such crude speech coming from your stepfather, but you couldn’t deny how needy it made you feel, you could feel your slick slipping down your thighs and onto your sheets.

Your daddy pulled his fingers away from you, your pussy clenching around nothing, and you whined from the loss, oh how empty you felt. You didn’t like it, you wanted to be stuffed full for as long as you could take.

“No,” you whined, sniffling, your eyes glistening with tears and you wiggled your ass back into him, urging him to give you more. “Want more, daddy— feels s’good.”

“I’ll give you more, hon,” he hummed, pressing his palm to the back of your head and pushing it down, letting your face squish against the pillows. He fiddled with his belt, pulling it loose and lowering his fly, pulling the pretty length of his cock from his briefs.

He was practically leaking, the thick veins that littered his cock throbbed and surged with hotness, so eager to be inside his most precious girl, to feel her heat and fill her to the brim.

The mere thought of his hot cum filling her insides, shooting into her tummy, it had his knees buckling, mind reeling from how lucky he felt.

He was so glad he had such an obedient, needy girl like you.

#Steve harrington x reader #Steve harrington smut #Steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington hc #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington daddy kink #stranger things imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader

[medium-rare-bimbo]

Piss kink with billy Hargrove

Mean billy x crybaby reader

♡Masterlist♡

MINORS DNI

May contain Dubcon, humiliation, piss obviously

༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ readmore ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻

♡ you were driving back from a party one town over, you hadnt drank much alcohol sticking to your giant cup of whatever fruity drink you had, constantly refilling it so you hand your hands full

♡ you had needed to pee a couple of houses back but was sure you could hold it, however when billy was constantly hitting the bumps in the road causing your bladder to jolt making the ache worse

♡ half way down a deserted road you were pressing your thighs together with so much force that you were frozen still to the seat whimpering every time the car shifted

♡ billy wasnt and idiot, not in the slightest, he knew the clenching of your thighs wasnt from arousal he was good, but he wasnt that good. He purposefully swerved for the bumps and holes in the road as soon as he saw the furrow of your brow and the squeezing of you legs indicating that you needed to pee

♡ you would occasionally glance at him hoping he would ask what was wrong so you wouldnt have to blurt out your needs, working up the confidence to speak, with watering eyes and heated cheeks you pathetically whispered out "billy I need to pee..."

♡ "What d'ya say? couldn't hear you" knowing full well he did of course he wasnt going to admit that to you, seeing you wiggle in discomfort was so much better then letting you say things without being embarrassed

- "i-.. I need to pee.."

♡ he barked out a mocking laugh "you need to pee? Really? Why didnt you do before we left? I told you to go before we got in the car"

"I-I tried to go but I couldnt-"

"You tried? So you didnt go? God women- you're gonna have to hold it I'm not pulling over theres no bathrooms until we get back to Hawkins -"

"But billy I need to go now! I'm not gonna be able to hold it for that long"

♡ your voice was shaking and your lips were wobbling as your tears started to fall as you tried to convince him to find somewhere to let you relieve yourself

"Wh-what if I pee myself-"

♡ he grabbed you by the neck at tilted your face with gritted teeth he growled out

"You piss on my seat I'm leaving you out here to fend for yourself ya hear me?"

"No billy please! I just want to pee please dont leave me"

♡ at this point you were sobbing your full bladder and thoughts of Billy abandoning you in the middle of a road where hardly anyone came by was becoming too much. He suddenly stopped the car, pulling over to the side of the road getting out and storming his way over to your side and opening the car door before removing your seat belt and pulling you out.

♡ "if you want to piss so badly do it now"

"W-what-"

"You heard me, you either piss now or do it in the car"

"But its embarrassing Billy- I- i dont want to pee on the floor-"

♡ your tears increased as you spoke, your voice sounding like a whiny crybaby. Billy grabbed your shoulders and pushed you down so you were squatting

"Piss."

"I need to take of my underwear a-and my shoes- t-they'll get all wet and gross-"

" jesus you're so high maintenance" He pushed you on your back pulling your shoes off, throwing them into the car "Just pull them to the side for God sake, you wanted to piss so bad, now piss"

♡ he sat in your seat staring down at you as you looked up at him sobbing mess with your hand between your thighs pushing your underwear to the side giving him a small glance at your cunt, The other holding on to his car while you tried to balance yourself

"Billy.. cant go if you're watching i-'is dirty"

"Suck it up You either go now or never"

♡ you let out a whimper and looked away to humiliated for him to see your face however his eyes were no where near your face rather glued to your pussy as it started to release the thing you've been desperately holding In

♡ your pussy fluttered as you finally got release you whined and whimpered as you hear him let out a groan, the liquid spreading over the floor and soaking into the ground aswell as your socks you tried to shuffle out the way to avoid it but your efforts were useless as you almost fell back into your mess (which billy chuckled at)

♡ a car drove passed making you squeal with embarrassment, your chest stuttering as you tried to calm yourself praying they didnt see you. what felt like an eternity you finally finished you gave a few squirts of piss trying to get all of it out, some of it dribbling down your thighs. You looked up at him, you hadnt stopped crying since he pulled you out of the car, he looked down at you, his hand resting on his bulge.

"What? You went now get in the car but take your socks off I'm not having your piss covered feet in my car"

"I- I need a napkin billy I'm all gross"

♡ he rolled his eyes smirking down af you before leaning down

"Too bad, shouldnt have used all of the ones we had to do your make up"

His condescending tone making you cry even more as you asked him to try and find something

♡ he huffed and pulled you to your feet peeling off your socks and making you lie back on the seat

"Billy what are you doing-"

"Shut up"

♡ he pulled your underwear back to the side and put his mouth over you now soaked pussy he cleaned up the remnants of your piss making sure you were all "clean" so you wouldnt complain. The only noises heard were your sniffles, whimpers and Billy's slurping.

♡ he sat up and slapped your thigh before wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he pulled you into a kiss which you tried to back out off, disgusted,  but unfortunately for you he kept you in place. He shut your door and got back into the car, the silence was overwhelming and you werent sure how to respond or act after experiencing what you just did.

"Just so you know I'm going to ruin that ass when we get home, we're going to be home late because of you"

#billy hargrove x reader #stranger things x reader #billy hargrove smut #billy x reader #tw: piss kink

[vintagehellfire]

Danse Macabre | E.M x Reader

summary: Your best friend invites you to a concert that you're less than keen on but you get much more devil worship than you bargained for.

warnings: porn without plot, plot? What plot?, choking, nipple play, blood play, bruising, oral (m receiving), sacrilege, bdsm, dom sub dynamics, just really stupid horny honestly. Eyefucking, teasing, edging???? Spit kink, mask kink, devil worship. This is just pure filth honestly, piv, unprotected sex (don’t do this with strangers ya’ll pls I’m begging) mdni 18+

word count: 8.6k

Thank you to @the-unforgivenn for beta reading this pure filth for me and for correcting my atrocious keystroke mistakes. I love you so much babe.

part two

How you got dragged to some sort of musical satanic ritual by your best friend Lilly was far beyond you. The heavy instrumentals contrasted too harshly with the light and theatrical vocals. If looks could kill, Lilly would be dead. This wasn’t your scene, it never would be, it’s what you told yourself. Sipping your gin, arms crossed, you scrunch your face, the bartender having been too busy staring at your chest while he poured your drink, resulting in a rather disgusting concoction. As if the night couldn’t get any worse. 

One of the lighter intro songs came to an end before the pyrotechnics roared to life next to you, one of the guitarists emerged from behind the waft of smoke. It was then that your breath caught in your throat, the way that he played had you hypnotised, placing you in a trance so deep that you couldn’t tear your eyes from him even if you wanted to, veins protruding. Your eyes trailed over his body, tight jeans fitting to his body and a uniform dress shirt adorning his torso, long sleeves and turtleneck underneath, hiding any soft skin. As you would be met with a face, you were surprised to find that you were met with a helmet of sorts, breathing tubes and other such accessories adorning it, as well as sticking out the top. His eyes burned red like embers behind the wide goggles, a darkness swallowing the man behind the mask and drawing you in. Curiosity got the better of you, you watched closely  when he stomped to the beat of the songs. he fans collectively let out a wave of screams, throwing flowers on stage. You rolled your eyes so hard they probably should have rolled out of your head. Were you attracted to the masked musician? In some capacity sure, but wholly? No. They just… they knew how to play well and those hands… you could admit those hands were something. You shook your head to rid yourself of impure thoughts, it wasn’t like you liked the music anyway. 

Your face was stone cold and your arms were crossed over your chest unhappily, cleavage pushed up, and the leather of your jacket creaking. That was the thing about you, you’d rather die than remove your prized biker jacket. It was your battle armour, much like the guitarists get up seemed to be the band’s uniform. To them, it protected their identity, and it protected you – you wouldn’t be caught off guard, you wouldn’t be vulnerable, you couldn’t. Your icy stare pierced through the smoke, through the flames, as you focused your gaze on the guitarist in front of you. His white guitar distinguished  him from everyone else just as your expression did you –perfectly sour.

The crowd behind you chanted along to the songs, screaming about Lucifer and the congregation and whatever other shit you chose to ignore in favour of your best friend. Lilly was one of them, jumping up and down, chanting every word of the hymns the lead singer belted out to the tune of the strong bass line and the chugging of guitars. As much as you wanted her to have fun, you rolled your eyes, this wasn’t your scene. Every song that started out heavy led to a disappointment with the vocals or the rock opera and so you just opted to be the designated party pooper and give your best glare towards the lead guitarist who seemed all too interested in your corner of the stage. He wailed on his guitar harder than you’d seen anyone wail on one before, a flash of worry briefly crossing your mind but you quickly pushed it down. 

The masked man played through his songs flawlessly, fingers moving expertly across the fretboard, mind and body completely in tandem; however your pout, your knit eyebrows, and crossed arms caught his eye, he’d stare back at you through his tinted goggles, smiling softly to himself at how adorable you looked when you were so grumpy. He could tell this wasn’t your scene and so during the slow and long intro to a song he walked over to the very front, standing just a few feet above you.  He tilted his head to the side, his mask listing as he stared, playing the intro as his eyes never left yours. 

The small movement caught your attention, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you felt like the glowing embers behind the goggles were burning into your very soul, dissecting every little secret. He slowly points to himself before he gets his queue to jump into his next riffs, stomping away as he pushed through the heavy chords that thundered through the concert hall. You dared not admit it to yourself, but something inside you snapped, a warmth starting to spread between your legs. No, no you couldn’t possibly be attracted to this, right? But just as that thought entered your mind, it shot out of your head and straight to your heart when you saw the man before you strut over to his bandmate. The two bent over backwards together, the taller of the two supporting the back of the man with the white guitar. A cute moment, or so you thought, but as soon as the shorter was up for his solo, the taller wrapped an arm around him and pawed at his cock, tugging him into his muscled body, catching the one you had your eye on off guard. He rocked his hips into the other and rested his masked head on the shorter shoulder, fake panting. He did not falter however, and that had your brain reeling. 

With a small smack on the ass, the taller let him go, strutting away as the crowd erupted in ear shattering screeches, and if what had just transpired wasn’t one of the hottest things you’d seen, you would have absolutely rolled your eyes, but instead it had you shifting in your place, all too keenly aware of the small flare of heat that lapped at you and the proximity of the other bodies surrounding you. You suddenly felt small, trapped; and you wanted nothing more than to run out and dunk your head under some ice cold water. What was wrong with you? Your eyes darted from side to side, hoping your best friend Lilly wouldn’t notice. 

What went on next was just about to make anyone lose their minds, the lead guitarist started to throw guitar picks into the crowd, plucking one last one from his guitar and marching over to directly in front of you. The song they played next was clearly well known but it was only vaguely familiar to you, it was one you would listen to ironically while doing the dishes, one that you didn’t care much for, but was catchy nonetheless. What you didn’t realise was just how suggestive the lyrics were – and so when the man with the white guitar stood in front of you, spreading his legs to put himself in a more comfortable playing stance you thought nothing about it but his next motions had your panties soaking themselves in your slick. A long and crooked finger pointed to himself quickly, then he went back to wailing on his precious guitar just before giving himself a window of about a second to stop, his ring and middle finger very rapidly turned upwards, flicking rapidly as if motioning fingering you, his goggles deadlocked on your eyes. You could tell he was watching you for a reaction, and how you knew you wouldn’t be able to tell. Christ, maybe you should have listened to Lilly when she was telling you this band was horny. Truthfully, you had shrugged it off, what, some singer in a pope mask acting all horny? That didn’t exactly get your rocks off, but the moment you laid eyes on the masked men playing their instruments, all rational thought flew out the window. 

Little did you know that the guitarist did have his eyes set on you, all queues already learned, his body moving on auto pilot, his performance was deliberately exaggerated just for you, his motions tailored to get you hot and bothered. He knew he played the best role, and as the show went on, with the lack of water, and the horrid head, he knew his veins were pronouncing themselves even more, fingers sliding around, fingering the fretboard with an expert speed. Every nook, cranny, and metal notch memorised by the calluses on the pads of his fingers, like an old lover he’d always know how to please. He would pride himself on it, on his accuracy, and he was thankful, oh so thankful, that his death metal band had allowed him the dexterity to pull something such as this off. 

Your eyes couldn’t tear themselves away from his figure, stalking his every move like a predator with their prey, A game of cat and mouse you both played with each other from the stage and the crowd. At this point, all shame was thrown out the window and you were openly eye fucking him, blood boiling in your veins and mouth starting to run a little dry. 

The final nail in the coffin was during their heaviest song during the show, a calm moment before the storm, before the stadium exploded in a downpour of black and white paper confetti. Your eyes fixated on the man before you as the song slows to a steady chug, breathy whispers sung into the microphones. It made your head spin as you were trying to compose yourself, breath hitching as the object of your lustful affection met your gaze. His black inky goggles bored you as he brought a shaky hand up, his other hand chugging the low E of his guitar. You were transfixed by the man, unable to peel your eyes from him as he slowly and seductively licked his hand, tongue expertly flicking between his fingers, his shaky breaths becoming ragged and exaggerated. Pressing his hand to his chest, he threw his head back in a moan, sliding his elegant fingers down the front of his uniform until it was level with his guitar, and exactly in time with his strumming, he fisted his hand and with a teasing motion he tugged at the air. Your mouth ran completely dry as you registered that he was feigning masturbation in front of thousands of people. He had you caught in a trance, hypnotised by his agonising motions, his eyes seemingly staring into your very soul, picking apart every last bit of you - he saw the scars inside and your desires all rolled into one. As his actions picked up, one hand still busy on his guitar, you let out a choked breath, transfixed by the man, ghoul, whatever he was, before you. He commanded all your attention, causing your mouth to run completely dry but it couldn’t have prepared you for his “release”--  letting go the moment the confetti cannon exploded. Your jaw slacked, a strangled moan flying from your mouth as you clenched your thighs together, mouth slightly agape. 

The guitarist knew he had you in a chokehold at that very moment, smirking from underneath his coverings. Flawlessly he jumped back into the song and turned away from you, the game of cat and mouse had become too much, too real. It had only taken him an hour and a half to break you down, but once he did he felt a satisfaction he couldn’t explain, and of course he would try to hide it as he continued to strut across the stage as if he owned it. The reality was that he didn’t want to give away just the way this little game had affected him as well, an undeniable strain in his lower half. If his bandmates had noticed, they had clearly made it their mission to torture him, the rhythm guitarist getting on his knees in front of him during a solo, fucking into his own guitar as he pressed his head to the lead guitarists thigh. It wasn’t until the lead placed a boot on his shoulder to push away from him that the one on his knees relented, the crowd exploding in a rain of screams, and yet all you heard was the rush of blood in your ears. You resigned, the game had been won.

As you tried to catch your breath, you looked over to Lilly, thanking Satan that she hadn’t noticed your turmoil. The rest of the show had you holding your breath, knowing that the masked musician had made it his mission to play games with you.  the show ended, you were relieved, you might have a moment yet to go home and get yourself off, forgetting the whole of the events that transpired. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here and to the merch table before it gets too crowded!” Lilly cheered, sticking her handout for you to take, but as soon as she looked over your face her eyes drained of excitement. “Oh, are you okay? You look a little pale,” she noted, tilting her head to the side. 

“Y-yeah, I,” You cleared your throat, “I’m fine, just feeling a little warm. I think I might head home but you go grab some merch. I’ll text you,” you lied cooly. You didn’t want her to know the profound effect that the lead guitarist had on you. With a nod she gave your shoulder a squeeze and darted off. 

You could finally breathe, the suffocation that gripped at your throat just moments earlier had slightly dissipated. As dirty as your thoughts were at the moment, it was in your best interest to get moving, and so, as if on autopilot, you let your feet carry you as far from the stage as possible. You slipped past the crowd, weaving in and around groups of friends, teenagers reeling about the show, displeased parents. You wanted to beeline it out of there before anyone noticed you but unfortunately your plan was short lived as you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist and tug you behind a closed door. 

Your brain ran at a mile a minute, trying to figure out whether it was cause for alarm, but as your back collided with the wall behind you, you were met with the masked ghoul from the stage pressing his knee between your legs, pinning you in place. All colour drained from your face as your breathing laboured. There wasn’t any fear in your body, not any longer, and if there had been any,it had been replaced with undeniable arousal, heat being sent straight to your core. It took all your willpower not to grind into his thigh.

“Hey, sweetheart.” The husky voice purred, a small accent peaking through. He smelled intoxicating, like amber and cigarettes, a tinge of iron poking through in the softest of undertones. It drove you crazy, mind spinning, dizzy with want. He cocks his head to the side, his nautical mask tilting, the black goggles seemingly bottomless, swallowing his eyes. The musician’s expression is completely unreadable and if you knew any better you’d say it was like a predator who had caught his prey. Your mistake was thinking the little game you both played was over, yet now it seems like it had just begun. The man leans into you, invading your space completely, his covered mouth coming up beside your ear. “Oh you thought our little game was over, didn’t you?” He pulls back, allowing your caged body some space. “Don’t think I didn’t see you, little one.” His sweet voice purrs, setting you over the edge, hips finally pushing into his leg as your head tilts back, smacking softly into the wall.

“Fuck…” The syllable leaves your mouth as a groan before you can do anything about it. Surely you were dreaming this, but when you opened your eyes, you were met with the same mask, the same expression that stared at you from the stage. 

“If that’s what you want, sweetheart, I’ll have to bring you to the green room. We’ll paint it red in sin .” You swore you could hear him wink from behind his coverings but you didn’t care, satan, you didn’t care as long as you could have him. You’d worship him in uniform, all sweat slicked and bloody if you had to. In this moment you had a one track mind and you’d be damned if you didn’t act on your desires… but maybe having these desires meant that you were already damned. “What, not as bold anymore? Devil got your tongue?” He mused. 

“Are you going to run your mouth or are you going to fuck me?” You spit out at him, a feigned venom behind your words, but they were too lust drenched to be taken harshly. In an instant his body was against yours, thigh pressing into your cunt, slowly rubbing back and forth.

“Earn it.” He growled out, face burying itself into the crook of your neck to pepper both kisses and love bites across your jugular. Your body caught fire, desperate to be taken by the mysterious man then and there. You hadn’t seen his face and you were mildly worried that seeing it would ruin the illusion. Would you even find him attractive under all his coverings? You didn’t have time to think about it before his hands came to the meat of your ass, tugging you against him with a burning desire, fire coursing through his veins. The strangled moan that ripped from your throat was one you weren’t expecting, but did it ever feel right, his strained cock digging into your hips as he pushed your body closer to his. You could tell he was well endowed even through the fabric of his trousers, a heat creeping up your neck at this realisation. 

“Don’t tease.” You spat, hands coming up to grip his slightly torn jacket, his arm coverings hiding any identifiers. You were going off of nothing aside from the little fire element pin that was securely pinned to the lapel of his uniform. Your hands found themselves tugging him forward, daring him to kiss you. 

“Don’t be a brat.” The stranger growled, swiftly lowering the cloth covering his mouth before assaulting your lips with his. It was all teeth and tongues, pure lust taking over every one of your senses, and it seemed to be true for him as well. You kissed back furiously, nipping at his bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from him that would turn into a groan as you rolled your hips against his, begging for some relief. “Easy, pet.” He muttered against the plushness of your mouth, a small tender moment slipping through the cracks. As much as you enjoy rough, there was a certain swell that filled your heart in knowing that he wouldn’t push too far. 

Your escapades were all tongue, teeth, and lips, strangled moans, and tugging at each other’s clothes until you both reached the green room wherethe band was supposed to be, however, your mystery man had ensured to clear it before he went out to find you. The only time either one of you broke from one another was for air or to push the door closed, locking it in the process. Both of you were too impatient, a carnal desire for one another pooling into your veins, fire spreading through you both and kindling in that very low spot in your abdomens.

“If you need me to stop, the safe word is Beelzebub.” The man’s husky voice cut through the groans, tugging your hips forward into his by the belt loops. He gave you a moment to process what he had said, but instead you grabbed onto his mask and tugged his head forward, lapping at his bottom lip in order to gain access to his mouth. As soon as he parted his lips, you were welcomed by his tongue dancing in tandem with yours. He tasted of wintergreen and cigarette smoke, a combination so sinful, so depraved that you should have been turned off, instead it flooded you with desire. 

“Need you.” You panted out between kisses, the man unrelenting his assault on your mouth. You were utterly soaked through, and you were certain that the musician could smell you but you didn’t care, not right now anyway. You should have been embarrassed by being taken like this but it just turned you on even more knowing that maybe you would get to live out your newly discovered kink instead of trying to soothe — or smother — the flames by yourself. 

“Do you need me?” The man mused. “Mmm, prove it to me, my little devil.” His hand crept from your waist down to your hips, and from your hips down to between your legs, agonizingly circling your cunt, thumb pressing into the seam of your jeans in the exact spot your clit would be in. “Show me how needy you are for me… Go on…” His husky voice teased. When you didn’t react he spun you so your back would be to him, a strong arm holding you against his body while the other busied himself with teasing you. His breath was by your ear now, and his cock pressed into your ass. He was so worked up that he began to rut his hips forward, moaning at the friction. His moan elicited a reaction in you, causing you to throw your head back onto his shoulder, mouth falling open. The tassels on his overcoat swayed with each rut of his hips, tickling the side of your face. You couldn’t imagine he wasn’t warm in his get up but you were too occupied to do anything about it. 

“Please, fuck, I need you.” You choked out, eyes screwed shut as he teased. You felt him lick a stripe up your neck before nipping just underneath your ear as a small warning before latching his lips to the sensitive spot, sucking a dark bruise into your skin. The sickening combination of his lips on your neck, his hard on rubbing against your ass, and his fingers teasing your clothed cunt was becoming too much, driving your senses crazy. A low growl emanated from deep within his chest, reverberating across your back from the proximity.

“Then get down on your knees….” He spins you around, voice low and husky as he shoves you down, a mix of fear and burning desire settling in the deepest pits of your stomach. Your knees hit the ground with a thud and you’d be sure to bruise later, but that was a small price to pay. You watched him undo his belt and pull his zipper down before bringing his hand back up to his face, licking it slowly like he had during the show. You knew what was coming but what you didn’t expect was him to give you one last order as he spidered his fingers down the ruffled fabric of his shirt. “And pray.” An animalistic snarl came from beyond the mask as his fingers trailed into his boxers this time. The man tugged his cock out and began to stroke himself, chest heaving, his breathing became laboured. 

“Oh, god.” You uttered, but the musician didn’t seem to like that. He let go of his cock, allowing it to bounce against his stomach, a stark contrast with his black attire. It looked delicious with the little opalescent bead of precum nestled on the very tip. 

“No, my pet,” he purred, his thumb coming to your lips, slipping past them and into your mouth. It tasted of brass and sweat yet you opted to hollow your cheeks around it anyway, “you answer to our savior, satanus here. You are no longer in the house of god.” There was a cruelty behind his voice, corruption on his tongue. You would have thought the theatrics would have instantly had you shoving him away, but instead it left you craving the masked man, mouth salivating at the thought of him completely ruining you. 

Without much warning, he tapped his cock on your lips, his precum smudging across your lips, and satanus, was it going to be his death. Your dark smudge of red lipstick would become ruins in the wake, the thought of a red ring around his member had his brain short circuiting, if you didn’t take him in your mouth soon he was going to lose it. Luckily you complied, opening wide to accommodate his size, letting your tongue lap at his tip as he slid in. He started slowly, almost carefully in order not to hurt you but soon enough you pushed his cock to the back of your throat, eliciting a strangled moan from him. His hands flew to your hair, desperate to hold onto something, anything, and he tugged you forward, pulling a moan from the very back of your throat. You pulled back, saliva building up in your mouth mixing with the salty taste of his seed.It wasn’t something you expected to like but you found yourself chasing it, craving more. 

Your head bobbed over his length, your moans muffled as you tried to take him deeper, his tip brushing the back of your throat. His delicate resolve broke then and there, slamming into you at a frantic pace. He chased his high, immense pleasure searing through his veins as he fucked into your mouth like an animal, all sense of self control was gone. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, giving him the most innocent look you could muster as you flicked your tongue over his tip, lapping at his slit. Agonisingly you pulled back, employing the aid of your hand around his length, taking only part of him in your mouth. You jacked him off as you hollowed your cheeks around his tip, tongue expertly flicking over his frenulum and eliciting the most pornographic moan from him.

“Satanus, save me.” The man hissed from above you, pulling on your hair to draw you closer. He was losing control, babbling about how pretty you looked on your knees for him. “You are so exquisitely sinful, my pet.” His chest heaved with every breath he took, fingers tangling themselves further into your head of hair, fingernails practically at your scalp. 

You take the praise and you run with it, taking it as a signal to keep going, and this time you move your free hand up his leg, rubbing over his thigh as a tease, a preamble to what you were going to do next. You took his groan as a confirmation to continue, his breaths coaxing you to keep going. You slid your hand up, opting to rub his thigh teasingly, savouring the feeling of the looser material under your fingertips, toying with it before you continued your journey up. While your mouth and right hand busied themselves with his thick cock, your left hand came up to fondle his heavy balls. Who knew that praying to a false idol could be so pleasurable. 

“Oh, oh, f-fuck.” The taller threw his head back, voice gruff and fucked out, clearly enjoying this more than he should have been. He was rapidly losing any grip on the situation and he needed to extract himself from it unless he wanted to spill into your mouth. It was his nightmare, his most sinful fantasy, having you like this after the show – a stranger, a person in the crowd. The amount of people that would absolutely kill to be in your position and it was likely that you weren’t appreciating it as you should have been. The man keened before tugging you back harshly, his hips stuttering at the sudden loss of contact from your mouth. “If you keep going like that, I’m going to cum down your throat, sweetheart.” There was a certain level of concern laced into his tone, one that you glossed over through your lust. 

“Holy shit…” You breathe out, pupils completely blown, the colours of your irises practically disappearing due to how clouded your mind was with him, only him, nothing but him, and how divine his cock was. At your words, something inside him snaps and he grabs your throat, pulling you up. You could feel yourself growing more aroused by the minute. How he had guessed that you’d be into choking was beyond you, but fuck was this doing things to you that you hadn’t even thought possible. 

“There is nothing Holy here.” He growled out, a darkness overtaking his voice. His words sent a cold shiver down your spine, one that found itself shooting down towards your core, causing you to press to him. The ember glow from behind his goggles scanned over your face, flickering, igniting a fire in the bits of your belly. “Here we succumb to our lust.” He breathes before letting your neck go only to bring his hand down to your chest and massage your breast, pinching gently through the fabric of your tank top. In an instant, his mouth attacked your neck savagely, teeth nipping at the thin skin, tongue flicking over the bites to soothe them. You tilt your head back to accommodate him, your breathy moans coming up right beside his ear as you rut into him. You’re desperate to be fucked at this point, needing him more than you need to breathe. 

He pierced your skin with his canines, an animalistic desire for you taking over him. He could no longer think, all consumed by his desires. You felt his lips trail down, soft as a butterfly’s wings, stopping at your jugular vein before he bit down, causing you to let out a yelp. Your cry of pain turned into a pornographic moan as he sucked and lapped at your salty skin, a small sheen of sweat starting to gloss over you as you burned up. If this was what being in hell was like, you’d have a hard time coming up with reasons to wind up in heaven. Your torture didn’t end there; however, as he snaked his free hand up to your cheek, holding you in place tenderly as he continued his assault on your neck. He made it his mission to mark you up as his but you were too far gone to care. 

“Oh Christ.” You moaned as he lapped at the bite marks he left, but he didn’t seem to like this. Not that you could see this much, but his eyes turned dark as he trailed his lips farther down, burying his face in the crook of your neck before he bit down hard enough to draw blood. Your pain was immediately covered in a strangled cry of pure ecstasy as he tugged you towards him, his hand on your breast moving to your hip, surely bruising it, fingerprint embedded in the skin of your hip bone. 

The taste of iron filled the musician’s mouth, his hard on reacting to your metallic taste, pressing into your hip involuntarily. He couldn’t get enough of you - the intoxicating smell of amber and palo santo mixed with the salt from sweat, and the citrus of the gin… He wanted to ruin you once and for all. 

“No, my pet, you are not in the house of God. Only the devil resides here. Will I need to have you pray to me again?” The growl that ripped from his throat has you soaking your lace panties, a choked sob escaping from your parted lips. As he took you in, he noted that you already looked completely fucked out, the bruising on your neck blooming like deep red roses, a symbol of both love and devotion. The only thing you could do was shake your head in answer to him. “Mmm,” the stranger hummed, “your body and blood are mine, sweetheart.” He teased you. As your chest heaved, you examined him, traces of your blood down his chin, and some smeared across his mask, his lips were swollen from the harsh and animalistic kisses he was giving you, and satanus were you ever attracted to him in this moment. 

“Please… Can I see you?” You plead, your hands coming to his waist, trailing down slowly, your right hand making contact with his cock. The soft cant of his hips encouraged you to grip it gently, stroking him languidly as you await his answer. “Please…” You repeated, eyes desperately boring into the void behind his goggles. 

“Oh, is my little pet desperate to see me?” He cooed out, his fingers skillfully finding your belt, undoing it at a painfully slow pace. It was your turn to buck your hips into him, rolling them into his touch. “Mmm, such a little slut, can’t wait until I get my hands on you, can you?” He teased. 

“Satanus, yes, please! Wanna see you.” You groaned, breath catching as he slowly teased you through your jeans. “Need you, need- need- ah!” You cried, throwing your head back once again, eyes fluttering shut from absolute pleasure. It’s then that the man opted to unzip your fly, pausing his animalistic activities to gently tug your jeans over your hips. You weren’t having any of this slow and sweet shit; however, and kicked them off as soon as you got the chance to, allowing him easier access to your sopping cunt. The smell hit him immediately and he moaned, head falling against your forehead, his breathing ragged and strained. His cock reacted, bouncing in your hand and you continued your teasing. 

“Then beg me for it, pet. I don’t think you’ve earned the opportunity to unmask me just yet.” His resolve crumbled with every soft touch, every stroke. He pushed into your hand and you took that as a sign to speed your motions before you pushed him back. Confusion was written across his features, that was until you let a healthy glob of spit hit his angry cock. “Oh mother fuck.” The man hissed out, crashing his bloodied lips into your own, allowing the metallic taste of your own blood to permeate your tongue. You reciprocated, tongue swiping across his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He parted his lips, granting you access, as he swiftly moved your panties to the side, his thick fingers slipping between your weeping folds. It took everything in him to not take you then and there, your pussy sucking his fingers in, tight and wet. 

“Please, please, I need to see you.” You sobbed out between kisses, but it was clear that it wasn’t enough. The musician growled at your words, dipping his index into your slick and using it as a lubricant to tease your clit with, it took him a moment but he found the bundle of nerves. The instanthis calloused finger landed on your clit, your vision exploded into stars, mouth practically running on its own, incoherent pleas and various iterations of “more” tumbling from your swollen lips. You were finally giving him something to work with, the pleas, the praises. He continued working your cunt, curling his fingers into the sweet spot deep inside you, warm walls squeezing against him. 

“Oh, darling. I’ll give you whatever your sinful heart desires.” He nipped at your bottom lip, splitting it with his canines before he pulled back, panting as he tried to catch his breath, however he refused to remove his hand from your cunt, slowing his movements only a fraction so that he could catch his bearings. “Are you sure?” He asked you, a worry laced in his voice. You nodded fervently, a saccharine look in your eyes peeking through beyond the undeniable lust. Whether you understood he was anxious about what you would think of him or not wasn’t apparent but regardless, you wanted to know who the man you were bound to fuck was. 

With a swift move he tugged the mask off, tossing it to the couch behind him and removing his balaclava. What you hadn’t expected was the sight to take your breath away completely. His hair tumbled out of the bun he had it tucked into, and the messy curls cascaded down his shoulders, doe eyes framed by the prettiest eyelashes you’d ever seen, and his swollen lips? God you couldn’t even think anymore. You immediately kissed them, nipping at his lips, taking his bottom lip into your mouth and sucking, tearing a moan from him, his lust filled eyes expanding even farther as you continued your assault on his lips. You bit down harder this time, cracking his lip. This time the metallic taste belonged to him and you couldn’t help but moan at his taste. You needed more. 

“Please, I- I need you…” You panted, eyeing the man with carnal desire. 

“Eddie, my name is Eddie.” And with that final confession he grabbed you by the hip and dragged you back to the roomiest surface he could find. It was all teeth, tongue, and the metallic taste of each other’s blood. Your hand on his cock and his fingers still working you open, movements becoming more erratic as he practically drilled into you with his fingers, setting an unrelenting pace that he seemed eager to keep up. Your knees hit the back of a couch, and his arm immediately shot to the small of your back, gently lowering you, a contrast to how he was abusing your needy body. Your hands moved to his hair in preparation for what was to come, yanking at his soft locks, releasing a deep moan from low in his chest. His hair was silky underneath your fingertips, few tangles in the way or your mission. 

“Eddie, please.” You whined, flush with desire, unable to think of what you wanted anymore than wanting him. A smirk adorned his lips and he sank his knees onto the soft cushion, knees bracketing your hips perfectly, his hands coming up to frame your face, curls ticking your cheekbones as he did so. 

“Open up, sweetheart.” He cooed. Instinctively you parted your lips for him only to feel a glob of his spit fly into your mouth. “Now swallow like the good devil worshipping slut you are.” You obeyed without question, swallowing down his spit with a pornographic moan. As you did, he took a moment to line himself up for you. “God, you look so beautiful, blasphemous doesn’t even begin to cover it, pet.” He praised as he rubs his dick against your soaked entrance, your hips rocking into him, threatening to suck him in. He hissed but slid his hand down your body, tracing your figure with his fingers, teasing in the most tantalising way, once he reaches your ass, he gives it a harsh slap at which you gasp out, choking on your breath, the sting of his hand making contact with your ass radiating a heat you hadn’t thought possible. You hadn’t expected it in the least but it was welcome nonetheless. “Behave.” He growled out, a darkness seeping into the word.

“P-Please, Eds… I need - I can’t, please.” You babbled, words completely incoherent. You weren’t even sure what you were begging for at this point. His cock? His fingers? Were you asking to be fucked stupid? In all your incoherent ramblings and begging Eddie caught one thing that made his brain fuzzy around the edges. “Corrupt me satanus, corrupt me, please.” Playing into the whole devil worship aspect had him gone, his hips violently snapping into yours, completely disregarding that you might need to adjust to the stretch. Part of him felt bad, but your immediate response was to wrap your legs around his waist, crying his name out as tears brimmed your eyes, mascara beginning to run down your cheeks. To Eddie, you looked absolutely perfect. He leaned in and peppered kisses across your face to wipe away the tears that trickled down. 

“S’this what you want, my little pet? You want me to ruin you?” His husky voice was in your ear as he dipped his head lower, his hips rolling into yours slowly. He moved masterfully for someone so scrawny, cock buried to the hilt as he rocked into you. Your mouth fell slack, tightening your legs around his waist and tugging him into you. “Come on, answer me, sweetheart.” He coaxed, pulling out of you slowly before snapping his hips into yours. The pleasure and pain mixed together in a teasing dance, keeping you on the edge and overwhelming your senses all the same. You couldn’t verbally answer and so you turned your head, tucking your face into his neck and kissing up to his ear. About halfway up you landed on a sensitive spot, causing a moan to tumble from his lips, a shiver running down your spine. You latched on like a vampire, sucking over the spot, lapping over it with your tongue to soothe any violent bites you inflicted upon him. In turn he bit into your shoulder, trying to ground himself in reality instead of losing himself to carnal pleasure, the coil in his abdomen tightening evermore. His plan had gone to shit the moment you continued to nibble on his neck, your hands tugging harder at his lock, pulling him further into you. With a slight upward tilt of your hips, Eddie hit a new angle when he snapped his hips into yours, ploughing deeper into you. The both of you moaned in unison before he released a strangled whimper. It was your turn to break skin, your mouth filled with the crimson substance that sustained Eddie’s life. Releasing your lips from the wound, you kissed over his neck and to his shoulder, smearing the fluid across his upper half. 

His pace picked up, slamming into you, deeper and deeper, nothing but the sound of breathless lovers, bodies colliding, and the sweet ecstasy of carnal desire flooding the green room. Your hand then came to his back, scratching down it and eliciting a whine from the man above you. 

“Please, please, please.” You chanted into his neck. It was as if he understood what you meant, his hand coming down between your joined bodies to rub over the bundle of nerves, little figure eights being drawn over your clit. You were going to lose your mind, and maybe even your soul. Would selling it to the devil be so bad? It didn’t take long after that for a white heat to build, a pressure that you weren’t used to building, the coil tightening, threatening to snap like an elastic band. 

“Oh, shit, sweetheart, I’m close.” The man turned his head, kissing up your neck, over your cheek, and found your lips. His kiss was searing hot, burning with need. He chased his release with you, trying to bring you as close to the edge as he could, hoping you might be able to finish at the same time. “Don’t want to finish until you do.” The devil could be generous if he wanted to be.

“S’close.” You panted against his swollen lips, unable to give any coherent answer to him, not that you cared. If laying in sin felt this good, you’d bed the devil any day. “Please, Eds… Don’t stop.” And somehow he kept at it, the same pace, same pressure, same rough and unrelenting fuck that he had been using for the past few minutes. He knew that don’t stop also meant that he shouldn’t change a single fucking thing he was doing, and rightfully so. With a cry, you closed your eyes tight, lights dancing behind your eyelids as you came, the elastic finally snapping, and your release soaking Eddie’s stage uniform. 

“Oh- fuck!” The man squeaked, his own release following shortly after. He could have sworn he saw stars in that moment, arms shaking beneath his own weight. His body fully collapsed on top of yours, your arms wrapping around him tightly, kisses tenderly placed on his shoulder. “So perfect f’me.” He mumbled into your sticky skin, reluctantly peeling from you. His brutal and domineering demeanour melted away, replaced by a certain level of care. You could see it behind his eyes clearly. “You okay, sweetheart?” He cooed, brushing your hair from your face, a few strands sticking to your forehead. 

“Y-yeah.” You shakily breathe out, your voice hoarse from the activities that had just taken place. As you try to prop yourself up on your shoulders, you wince, a pain shooting through you. “Just sore.” You murmured, suddenly shy under the musician’s gaze. You didn’t dare look at him anymore, a twinge of shame filling your heart. 

“Hey, sweetheart, come here.” He mumbled, scooting closer, not daring to pull out just yet. He pulls you up, legs entangled with each other in a pile of limbs, unsure of where one person ended and the other began. He pressed your warm body to his, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, rubbing soothing circles over your back, his gentle voice whispering sweet nothings to you. 

“Thank you, Eddie.” You mumbled into his skin, placing a tender kiss over a forming bruise. “That was something else.” He hummed in agreement, allowing his eyes to flutter close for a second, letting himself enjoy a fleeting moment of human contact while he was on tour. While the guys were wonderful and he loved them to death, there was a certain intimacy that he missed in lovers. One that he didn’t indulge in as much these days. 

Reluctantly, he pulled out and you pulled away, debating whether to say anything to him, or whether you wanted to indulge in some more pleasantries. If you were any wiser and more observant you’d have noticed the longing in his eyes, his gaze trailing over your figure as you pushed away to gather your belongings. It was odd to say that the musician would have wanted you to stick around for some more aftercare, it would have been even stranger if he admitted to you that he just wanted you to stick around post coitus and have a drink, maybe a smoke, and get to know each other. 

“Hey, hang on, let me clean you up.” His voice softened, taking you aback. “Come on, pet, I’m not gonna leave you like this.” He gets up only to tuck himself back into his slick soaked uniform, cringing as he does so. He grabs a water bottle from the nearby table and a small cloth kept on the vanity in the far corner of the room. “Come on, just sit.” He motioned back over to the couch and watched as you hesitantly padded over. You sat down on the cleanest area you could find, squirming as you began to feel Eddie’s cum slipping out of you. 

“S’fine, you don’t have to.” You mumbled, turning away from the man. He sighed as he approached you, sinking to his knees before starting to clean your thighs. He worked his way up between your legs, cleaning the leaking spend from your cunt. He placed a few gentle kisses to the tops of your thighs, your eyes flicking over to him as he did so. That was the moment you got a good look at the man. Dark ink littered his skin, barely an inch was pure, untouched, the only areas you couldn’t see his tattoos were the areas in which you had drawn blood, the dried fluid flaking slowly. He continued cleaning you up, rubbing gentle and warm circles with the wet cloth. Part of you couldn’t help but find this incredibly thoughtful, your heart squeezing at the gestures, but the other half of you believed that you were probably just an easy lay. 

“Hush, yes I do. It’s the least I can do.” His doe eyes met yours as he looked up at you through his lashes. “I made a mess of you, darling, and I need to clean you up.” His voice was sincere, soft even, and you couldn’t help but melt. You allowed him to tend to your tired limbs, and once he got to your neck, he apologised, knowing that it would probably hurt. You couldn’t help but stare at the softness behind his eyes, the fire that burned within had fizzled out and was replaced by some unnamed emotion. As the towel made contact with your neck, you winced, earning yourself a kiss from the musician. It shocked you that even after the heat of the lustful moment he was still willing to kiss you but you accepted it, melting into his lips. They were soft, a little chapped, but inviting nonetheless. 

“Thank you.” You whispered against them, afraid your voice would give out if you spoke any louder. Your hand came up to his face, brushing your thumb over his sharp cheekbone before placing your forehead against his. “You’re sweeter than I anticipated.” 

“And you’re kinkier than I anticipated.” He retorted and moved back gently, only to give himself room to fold the towel over to a clean side before cleaning up your face with a gentle hand. “Thank you for indulging me.” He cooed out to you, his sincerity going straight to your heart. You couldn’t help but nod. 

“I should go.” Your voice broke, and in that same moment, so did Eddie’s heart. There was something to you that drew him in, that he wanted more of, that he craved. It flew past just the need for human contact, part of it had to do with the way you ran with the punches he threw, you went with the game you played from the stage all the way to the back room. Eddie nodded solemnly, pushing away. 

“Yeah, uh…” He bit his lip, tossing the washcloth on the coffee table. Surely worse things had been on that surface in the past, but right now Eddie didn’t care about that, not about what was on that table, what would be in the future, or what he just threw onto it. “You don’t have to, I actually, I don’t know that I want you to. Can I at least buy you a drink?” He asked, standing up straight. You turn around, grabbing your pants so you could slip them back on over your legs. 

“You want to buy me a drink?” There’s a hopeful tinge to your voice, head shooting over to look at the musician in question. As you did, you hissed out gently, the garden of blooming roses on your neck blossoming farther across your neck, bite marks adorning your skin like dark tattoos. There was no denying what had gone on. 

“Sweetheart, I think we both left a mark on one another,” he teased, “when you pray to the devil so well, I think it’s hard for him to resist.” A twinkle in his eyes told you it was more than just the sex you both had. “Besides, it might help with the pain. What do you say?” 

“Mhmm,” you hummed as if you were deep in thought, “only if the devil can treat me right.” You mused. “You going to change first?” You waggled your eyebrows, referring to his squirt-soaked trousers, only to receive a smirk in return.  “Oh no sweetheart, I wear my battle scars with pride.” With that, he pushed back to grab his helmet, slipping it back over his head before taking your hand in his and leading you off to the bar. He wasn’t what you expected, none of it was, the show, the music, Eddie, but as you took his hand you couldn’t help the feeling brewing in your chest; the feeling that maybe the unexpected was exactly what you needed.

taglist: @munson-blurbs @the-unforgivenn @littlesubbyflower @word-wytch (if you want) @rip-quizilla @hellfire--cult @mystish

#eddie x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #musician!eddie #stranger things au #mask kink #ghost bc #sodo ghoul #eddie as sodo #i'm obsessed #eddie munson smut #reader insert #music

[wroteclassicaly]

so, like, my horny steve thot is almost always the same: i just love the idea of his cock being sooo uncommonly long and girthy that he has to take his sweet time getting you ready and even tho he makes you cum on four fingers and his tongue twice, he still can only fit about half of his cock inside you before you’re crying (crying for more? crying for less? you don’t even know … you’re crying for more probably) :(((( hehe

I know this is way more than a Steve thot, but I do hope you like it anyways? Hehe, thanks so much for sending it in, my dear Cece! I tweaked it a little bit ;)

Note: My vaginismus having ass could not take Steve’s monster very easily (if at all), but this is nice to think about. And I felt like having trouble, even with prep from four fingers (my god, I struggle with sometimes one and definitely two) — is relatable af!

Warnings: Language, smut, NSFW, touches on sub space a little bit, mentions oral sex, handjobs, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, and the reader has a hard time taking Steve, so there’s significant pain. I think that about covers it?

Sometimes you felt as if you were floating. Higher than the tallest cliff hanging off the quarry, rocks jagged and waters a deep, enriching blue, rippling in velvet serenity. Your particles could be scattered to the Midwest winds and you’d have yet to realize, halfway through time — maybe even space…? It happens more and more frequently now, tonight is no different.

You shift, one jut of your knee that slides into a slippery sloping press, his wiry leg hairs tickling your calf. He moves, widening your right thigh, your ankle sliding across your rose colored bed sheets, and back behind his slender form, where he’s kneeling in front of you. An electric heat flows so hot between your legs that the cool air rushing in hurts. You fist your own fingers into your air, massaging, tugging, neck stretching to expose the delicate tendons that run up your throat — ones he’s littered in his claims. God if he could suck them raw, nip the sore flesh into his teeth, enough that you whimper again, opening yourself just the way he needs you to…

Your arm is still thrown above your head, the outline of your forearm pressing into your pillow, your kiss-swollen lips shiny with spit and dormant pleas that he’d heard not long ago. He’s tried to say a few words, even used his palm to push down on your abdomen, still four knuckles deep into your soaking wet pussy. It’s to no avail, your eyes completely glassy, lash line soaked, gaze fucked over and reaching outer limits — a place he can only imagine what’s it like (from your perspective, anyways). He knows this path you go head first into. The books and magazines he had read a long time ago in his High School days mentioned how sex is obviously different for girls, how they can experience things more intensely sometimes.

But nothing could’ve prepared him for this. The very first time it happened coincided with a two hour long foreplay. Steve remembers it like the back of a Farrah Fawcet spray canister. He was prepping you to take him — all nerves and mangled, panting breaths. One finger and his mouth on your neck, two found his lips sucking underneath your jaw line and crooking against that spot just right, three had you stifling whimpers into his neck and riding his splayed palm that stayed drenched, and four… Well, four was an unremarkable set of attempts that took up the better part of the second hour.

You’d done it with Steve’s patience, his languid coaxing. And when you had berated yourself for being unable to take it much past the tip of the fourth, he’d slid between your legs and lifted them apart, his tongue finding your creamy opening and helping himself. You lost count on how many fuses he’d lit and caused to explode, only touching your senses upon hearing Steve hiss out a yes when his fourth finger easily joined the other three. It took a few minutes with him talking to you, high on a raspy ease, a delicious chorus of praises pouring off his lips — then you were back. Some sort of transitioning space, Robin had told him when he couldn’t help but to ask, wondering if it was too much for you.

And that fed into Steve’s addiction to satiate his hunger for seeing you in such an uncaring, completely melted state. All because of him.

He grabs your chin with a calloused thumb and pointer finger, pinching to tilt, your lips catching his and separating in an easy smack. His nose tucks into your cheek, another glide of his mouth, four fingers turning back into three and a stretch, and you inhale sharply — everything coming back into focus. Your breath is winded, bosom heaving and nipples dragging across his tufts of chest hair. He’s so fucking warm, his freckle splattered skin stained red with flush, his aftershave sinking into the corners of your mouth, stubble tickling your chin, and inky pupils littered with cinnamon rings. His brows pinch together, pearly white teeth grinning lazily as he presses another kiss to your mouth the moment that you sigh into a shared breath.

“Welcome back, baby.”

His free hand reaches for your forearm above your head, fingers sliding along damp and salty skin, tickling across your palm and lacing with your own digits — squeezing.

“Mhm. Stevie…” His thick fingers buried in that scorching mess between your thighs is suddenly on the forefront. Holy shit he’d gone to town on you. The evidence has slicked down your ass and onto the bed sheets, that’s no secret.

“I tap out again for a second? Fuck, you’re so good.” You coo at him, enjoying how his eyes light up in a mirth unmatched.

He hooks your right leg around his lower waist, leaving the other lowered to where you’ve got it propped. His eyes find yours and he drinks you in as he pulls his fingers from you slowly, both of you letting out a choked moan. His thumb pad caresses your clit, his digits smacking your cunt and scattering some arousal. You jump, toes curling, digging into his waistline.

“Shit, honey, let me taste you first.” He’s teasing, smirking that Steve Harrington smirk, popping his sopping fingers into that plush mouth, making a real diabolical show of it.

You practically chase his touch, eager to sample yourself — whatever he’ll let you have. He wiggles his shiny fingertips and barely touches your bottom lip, teasing you, making you raise up — the action causing his very prominent erection to nudge your folds. You jump a little, that instinctual preparation that promises a very defining pain — working its way to the forefront. Steve shakes his head and swipes his fingers across your mouth, planting them on your hip to massage in soothing circles. You’re so fucking wet that you’ve already soaked him, and that makes holding back from taking what he wants that much harder.

“Easy, okay? Haven’t even tried to put it in yet. You know I’ll always ask you before I do, right?”

You nod, breathing in a few self-comforting breaths. It’s not that you’re terrified of the pain. Hell, your little kinky ass indulges in it most of the time, but there’s also that percentage that is nervous, that worries about how much it usually does hurt, (despite many orgasms and lubrication), or if you won’t be able to take him at all this time. His walnut strands tickle your cheek as he descends to nuzzle your nose with his own, reassuring hand still on your hip.

“You want it like this tonight?”

You nearly combust on the spot, body bowing to a magnetizing nostalgia of various positions he’d fucked you in; nice and deep, or ever-so-slow and fucking filthily. You can almost taste his sweat from thrusts he’s yet to initiate, feel the goosebumps pepper your flesh as his silky mane tickles your forehead, maybe even your neck and shoulder (it all depends on which way he has you, really). You aren’t quick enough to draw in your timid answer, starting to slip again, preparing to drift and seek him out. His fingers leave your hip and pull down on your bottom lip, releasing it with a plop as the digits head towards your jaw — strumming a slow scrape. “Babe?” He’s amused, questioning. “How do you want me?”

“I..” And your throat feels like it’s overworked, yet you’ve barely spoken. It drips with elated exhaustion, slowly clambering upright. “Right where you are. Get the stuff, honey.” You flip his nickname for you back onto him, and it has a reaction that crashes into his chest, making it swell in size for you.

He nods immediately, the hand that’s holding yours — leaving, but only to work open the bedside drawer in haste, fumbling clumsily as he decides to capture your bottom lip between his teeth — leaving little love pecks as an after motion. You can barely leave his mouth, his neck straining and flushed bright red, caked in sweat. He rolls back on his haunches, his heavy cock bobbing against his stomach and leaving a connective trail of your slick and his pre-cum to both, your thighs and his.

“Jesus,” he mutters in awe. You’re always so wet for him.

You do shift a little, relaxing your legs around his lower back and connecting your ankles. He has the lube bottle in hand, cracking its lid and wiggling his brows at you. A silent signal not missed, you present your palm and he squeezes out a good amount of gel in, tossing it onto the nightstand beside your head. And fuck, you really wish you had your Polaroid right now, because watching him inhale through clenched teeth, toned waist giving into a bunch, and licking a sharp swipe of his tongue across his lips, the moment that your hand is reaching forward to take him in your grasp — it’s forever seared into your pitiful, Steve-stamped retinas. Screw your pupils, might as well be little Steve’s there instead.

His breath trembles, caressing his tongue, body unprepared as your fingertips tap a tempo up his shaft, barely grazing, before moving back down again. His cock twitches, jumping in your hand, and that’s the moment that you take your chance and wrap your fist around him. He falls forward on hefty palms, fingers splayed beside your head, bunching your sheets in a white knuckled grip. This is one of the parts that you absolutely go to the outer limits for.

He mouths at your jugular, nose pathing up your neck and dragging across your chin until he’s able to kiss you and pant against your lips. “That’s it, baby. Use it however you want to. S’ all yours. Don’t need to be afraid of it. ”

That first sticky contact where he’s finally parting your folds turns you into a babbling mess, a wanton whimper tangled at your tongue’s tip. The fingernail of Steve’s thumb scrapes at your chin, tugging and encouraging your sounds to spill free. When you oblige, he slides that very digit into your mouth and presses, salt, his saliva, and your own musky essence pouring over your taste buds.

“That’s my good girl — shit!” You roll your tongue around his finger and take him down to the knuckle, your fist gliding across his length at an easy rhythm in a simultaneous thievery.

“Monster madness.” You whisper, letting your tongue flick around his thumb, before releasing.

He meets your mouth in a shared grin — all teeth, light laughs. “So I own a monster and a python, huh?” He winds your hair back behind your ear and you know it’s almost time. Your grip on him has loosened a little.

You share a heavy stare, a connection that doesn’t falter, even through one raise of his bushy brows. You watch in a marveling, drool-lathered wonder as the tendons in his wrist flex when his fingers separate, pushing your folds apart. They disconnect with an audible squelch, making you grip him tightly again — squeezing. A diagram-deep groan punches through his esophagus and claws its way from his mouth. “Oh. Fucking do somethin’, honey. Please…”

His voice sounds wet, like a hurricane is rising inside his lungs, battering his insides, and threatening to flood his throat — a desperation that finds an adjoining link within your own desires. As he still holds you open, you bring his purpling tip to your swollen clit, and with a blinking of newly tear stained lashes — you use him. He couldn’t stop it if he tried, another beading escaping him and helping the friction you’ve begun to stimulate you both with. Your knee jerks and he thrusts into your hand, his thick, full balls catching on your ass, your wetness having found a home there too. It’s all too messy to comprehend a clean up. And he doesn’t want to, if he’s being honest.

“Baby, you have the prettiest clit. God it feels so good, you know that? Don’t stop for me.” He’s shaking in his forearms, biceps rattled, muscles caving in. He’s not even inside of you yet and he’s already drenched and throbbing, about to blow his load.

Luckily, you know him as well as he knows you. And you release, quickly lifting your ass in a slight wiggle, legs still locked and now wound around his lower back. You give him one pleading command. “Split me open, Stevie.”

He takes an intoxicating initiative, finding your left hand to hold on tight, fingers leaving your cunt and wrapping around his glistening base, curls matted with your cream. This isn’t gonna last long. “Need more lube, baby?” He checks one last time, your head shaking

You’re fucking warm and soft when he drags his dick through the seam of you, teasing, slapping your inner thigh, your clit, finally teasing his head to that ring of nerves. “Fuck.” His hand lifts on your hand, knuckles smashing into your pillow case, palms held and fitted. You’re relaxed enough that you’re close to sucking him right in, and as soon as the head pops past your opening, he sees your eyes fill with tears. You dig your nails into the top of his hand, scratching, nearly breaking skin. What comes out of your mouth before he can say anything shocks him.

“H-hold on. Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum.”

Steve’s lips find your neck and they suck, bite, licking clean the evidence of a beginning claim. He has to stop himself from fucking you up the bed at this new knowledge. “Oh yeah? Feels that good?”

“Just go slow.” You whimper into a kiss he bestows, tongue greedily slinking into his mouth to take what you want.

He sees what you mean when he presses in a little more and is flooded with a fresh wave of cream, his eyes rolling back and clouding over. And that’s the moment he knows that he has to check in, because you sniffle. There it is.

“Honey? You alright?”

You’re trying to say you are, but it comes out as a broken “mhm” and you lick your lips, eyes focusing on the ceiling, sclera burning. It fucking stings, your body is telling you what it knows — that it’s gonna be too much, that you’ll be sore. But he’s so warm, so heavy inside, and he isn’t even completely there. You try to shove your hips and seek out more, only to be rebuffed. “Baby…” he warns, composure tilting over that precipice, wavering.

And the air changes, your body goes light, and that’s it.

“Come here.” Your hand that’s unheld, is digging into his hair, its soft strands becoming rising waves in the gaps between your fingers, tumbling over yourself to get to his mouth.

His knees help keep him above you, or else he’d collapse. You breathe in deep, releasing it against his lips when you part, your nipples prodding at his slippery flesh. Smashing your nose into his own, he nudges, he shifts, and you’re caught — his thick cock sinking into you. It’s not even half, but you cling to Steve through gasping cries and tear splattered lips, everything aching and throbbing. Your heart is racing so hard that you’re sure your bones are being dusted to ash.

Despite the nearly unbearable fire his size carries, your body welcomes him halfway in without anything else needed. Steve pauses, not just for you, but for himself and the ridiculous choppiness that he can’t even call breathing. He lifts your combined hands and kisses each finger, making you tighten around him and his hips shove forward. You both curse and he apologizes, to no avail. You’ve begun to beg him, and he thinks he might be in his own transitioning space.

“Honey — Baby, hold on, m’ tryna make it better for you.”

“More, I want it all, S-Steve… Don’t stop!”

“But you’re tensing on me —“

“Please, oh god, please — Steve!”

His control vanishes and his closed fist reaches the bottom of your folds as he helps himself push the rest of the way in — in two swift, squelching glides. His tip finds that spot right away, settled like a flesh tight glove, and it sets off a series of sparks, your throat barely able to let out a scream before your release squirts from your cunt and reaches the happy trail scattered around Steve’s navel. Yep, it’s over. He pulls your linked hands up and drapes them by his neck, pumping his hips on one good time, forehead sticking to yours, eyes wide and lips parted in disbelief, and he comes. Your exposed hands that aren’t together, they find one another and match the other two, lacing, pieced just right.

Steve crumbles and collapses on you, your breasts dripping with combined exertion, his pulse racing to stabilize, face burrowing on the swell of your chest. It’s a few silent moments — his cock softening inside you, your cunt brimming with his warm spend, and then he’s looking up at you from his spot. That five o’clock shadow surrounds his mouth, his pupils trying to normalize, and fuck — his own eyes have spilled moisture. Every freckle and mole is visible, his easy grin and silent apology starting, but you brush the hair of his forehead, enjoying his reddened cheeks.

“I love you, honey. Are you okay? Want me to—“ His own voice sounds discombobulated.

“Stay a little while with me, like this? Inside?” Is your airy soft response.

And now, now you think that Steve will be floating over the quarry with you. Particles that fuse together. Of time and space.

// eat me paragraph //

#asks #kink hour #kristenwrites #newlips #my work #my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x female reader smut #stranger things smut #stranger things one shot #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

[toxic-aries]

keep those on (1.1k words)

paring: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ (MINORS DNI), missionary position, unprotected sex, slight cursing, mentions of hickies, cringey writing, please let me know if I missed any.

a/n: due to joe wearing those glasses, this is where my brain went. sorry if it seems rushed, my migraine took over. eddie x reader really get straight to the point in this blurb.

feedback & criticism is very appreciated. please let me know if you have any thoughts on how I can approve. thank you :)

It was unexpected what you saw when you opened Eddie's bedroom door. Your boyfriend sat on the edge of his bed in nothing but old gray sweats, guitar in his lap, long locks clinging to his face with beads of sweat dripping, and glasses. Glasses? Circle glasses with wire frames to be exact. “Since when do you wear glasses, huh? ” you ask, placing a kiss on his exposed shoulder as you sit next to him. 

“Hmm.” he mumbles, adjusting the glasses by their arms, “Well, I only really wear them at night.” Aligning his body more towards you, he gives you a quick kiss. You run your fingers along the edge of his face, brushing away the strands of hair that gripped to his forehead. Maintaining eye contact with his pretty brown eyes through the lenses of those glasses. “You like them? ” he asks as his lips rest along your jawline and his hand moves up your thigh, stroking it. 

“I like them a lot...” you say, lifting your head back slightly as he places kisses along your jawline, moving his lips down your newly exposed neck. Eddie’s hands grip on your thigh as he places a few love bites along the sensitive skin of your neck. You begin leaning back slowly, as he follows your every move until your back is pressed against the mattress and he’s now hovering over you. 

His hands brush over your thighs, spreading them open slightly – just enough for his hand to palm you through your jeans. You pick his chin up with a couple fingers, lifting up his pretty face from your love-bitten neck. “You look so pretty with those glasses...” you whisper, drawing him into a passionate kiss. With your parted lips, his tongue wanders onto yours and kisses you fiercely. 

His hands move to the buttons of your jeans, as he unbuttoned them he pulled them off along with your panties. After removing your exposed half, his hands reach for his sweats and strip him off quickly. As you break free of his kiss, you pull the hem of your shirt off your body as rapidly as possible, exposing your bare chest to him. “You think i’m pretty.” he chuckles, his hand moving to your bare cunt, rubbing circles around your clit. 

The moment he touches you, you gasp, your head snapping back, and the sensation of pleasure already immerses you. With his free hand he begins gripping the sides of his glasses, attempting to pull them off – you grab his wrist before he could. “No.” you say in between gasps as his fingers travel your folds, “Keep those on…please.” you plead with him. 

He pulls his body back slightly, eyebrow raised, “You want me to keep them on?” he questions. You nod your head in response. You watch as he grips his cock, “You want me to fuck you in these glasses, huh?” he says as he drags the head against your throbbing clit in a teasing manner.  

“Please Eds.” you whimper in frustration at the intense pressure between your legs, wishing for relief. You feel him slip into your tight little cunt and slide his thick full length into you. Moaning, you push your back deeper against the mattress as you feel his cock fill you.  A few moans escape his lips as your pussy grip tightens around his length. He lowers his body closer to yours as you both get comfortable to the position, you push his glasses back up his nose by the bridge. 

With his hands firmly hooked beneath your knees, he raised your legs so they were around his body as his thrusts began slowly. His goal was that you would feel every thrust, every aspect of him. As his forehead rested on yours, the heavy breaths combined with yours caused his glasses to fog up. “You get off just seeing me in these stupid things?” his chuckle breaks through groans, pressing his cock deep into your cunt. 

“F-Fuck.” you groan, bucking your hips at the pressure forming, “I-I do. I want you to fuck me in those all of the time.” you cry out as you feel his cock thrusting in and out of you again. His pace quickens with each thrust, gripping his shoulders as he pushes deeper with every motion into your wet cunt. “Fuck baby..”  He grunts through his teeth, his hand leaving a bruising grip on your hip “You're soaking wet.”

He moves his mouth to your bare chest, taking your hard pointed nipple between his clenched teeth, looking up at you – glasses slid almost to the tip of his nose. Fuck. Your walls tighten around his cock at the sight of him, his free hand grasping harshly on your other tit. “Eddie…” you moan out, snapping your head back as his lips clasped around your nipple. His tongue danced with it. His teeth clench hard around your sensitive skin. 

The sound of moans and cries, mixed with the sick slapping sounds of his cock pounding into your dripping cunt echoed throughout his room. You grab ahold of his chin, maintaining the heavy lustful eye contact between you two. And just so you can stare at those pretty glasses. “Keep looking at me like that.” You whimper, as his deep thrust pounds your g-spot. 

You caress his face with both hands, watching his subtle facial expressions as he pounded his cock into you. He moves his hand from your chest, brushing your strands of hair out of your face, “You look so pretty while I’m fucking you…” he coos as his hand that had a bruising grip on your hip moves to play with your clit, “Pretty pretty girl…” he continues. 

His fingers danced with your throbbing bud as the cock continued to slide in and out of you. Your legs began to tremble at the upcoming orgasm that was building in the pit of your stomach. As he sped up his rhythm, Eddie pressed his face against your neck, lips panting against your skin. His cock tenses inside your cunt, as he pants out, “I’m going to cum...”, and between heavy breaths, his lenses fog up once again. 

You pull his face from the nape of your neck to look him in the eyes, watching as the foggy lenses fade. “Cum in me baby…” you whine out, trying to hold back your own frenzy. With a few more harsh thrusts, you throw your head back in pure ecstasy – his cock tenses as he fills you with his warm spurts. He pulls out slowly as you both ride out your climaxes, his hot sticky spunk leaking from your folds as he does so. Taking a brief look at you through his lenses, he sees you smiling slightly and he mutters, “Shit.”

if you enjoyed please consider commenting or reblogging, it makes a huge difference ♡

#.paige writes ✎*ೃ˚ #eddie munson #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #stranger things #stranger things smut #i might have a glasses kink? #.eddie ♡

[handful0fteeth]

sexy when you scream

kinktober day 2: roleplaying

summary: you told eddie you wanted him to stalk you. he obliges, and makes your wildest fantasy come true.

pairings: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: slight 90s!au, smut, minors DNI, explicit language, lots of dirty talk, A LOT of cnc, stalking kink, kidnapping kink, bondage, fearplay, (slight) knifeplay, rough sex

words: 9.7k

Oh, you are so fucked.

The cold, hard metal of your keys bite into your palm as you clench your hands together, pressing them against your chest as you slowly take inventory of your porch. 

You wouldn't believe it if you weren’t standing here and seeing this with your own eyes. But here it is, in all its terrifying, thrilling glory. You worry your bottom lip with your teeth and take a step back.

Hundreds of daisies have been sprinkled on your front stoop; some rest in clumps atop the seats of your wicker chairs and a dusty metal table, while others are threaded through the thin whorls of metal within your iron porch columns. A path of daises led you to this discovery in the first place, smatterings of pink, white, and red petals and long green stems guiding you to your home from the driveway. In front of your door, pink clusters have been arranged to form the first initial of your name inside of a crude heart.

 A cold wind blusters a few flowers across the tops of your tennis shoes, and you retreat down the concrete steps leading up the porch a little further. This egregious display was most certainly not here when you left for the gym an hour ago. You adjust your duffel bag on your shoulder and swallow hard despite your suddenly bone-dry mouth.

You know who did this. You spin on your heel, scanning the sparse forest encasing your home for anything - or anyone - who shouldn’t be there. 

“Hello?” Your voice is small, scared, fluttering away on the autumnal breeze with all the conviction of a mewling kitten. The forest remains defiantly silent. 

You see it when you’ve stepped onto your driveway, back turned to the floral explosion blocking your door. Nestled about one hundred yards away from your house, mostly camouflaged beneath a tapestry of oak leaves that have gone red and orange with the October chill, is the white-brown front bumper of a car. 

No, not a car - a van. 

Your stomach flips as you ascend your porch steps. The trees are blocking the windshield, so you can’t see if anyone occupies the van’s interior, but it feels like eyes are on you. Trying to find your house key proves difficult as your hands shake, and you keep glancing over your shoulder to ensure the van doesn’t move. Losing sight of it somehow feels scarier than knowing it’s there.

You finally slip the correct key into the lock, but when you turn it, there’s resistance. You try again - no luck. You hold the knob and lift, shimmying the key inside the door to dislodge whatever lay inside, but nothing gives. Sweat beads at your hairline and pools in your palms, and just as you’re about to throw the keys down in defeat, you notice your silhouette is pasted against the door. The world is suddenly much brighter than it was moments ago, and when you chance a look behind you, you realize why.

The van’s headlights have flared on. You blink against their harsh yellow light as your stomach drops into your shoes.

Shit. You bend, trying to peer inside your lock's narrow channel to figure out what’s jamming it. The dying evening light doesn’t give you much clarity, and you curse yourself for forgetting to switch on the porch light before you left. 

A loud rumble pierces the air, disturbing a few nesting birds nearby into flight; he’s revving the engine. 

Yep, definitely fucked.

You scrape the tip of your key along the rim of the lock, hoping you can dislodge whatever’s inside to unlock your door. White and pink petals crumble out, and it dawns on you as the glow of the headlights abruptly shuts off, and the engine cuts out. 

He’s stuffed daisies in the door.

“Motherfucker!” you growl, slapping your hand uselessly against the doorjamb. 

The sound of a car door slamming shut makes you whip around. The oak trees still obstruct your view, so all you can make out of the figure now slowly stalking toward you are a pair of dingy white sneakers crunching over the carpet of rotting leaves. 

You don’t think - you just act. You swing your duffel back off your shoulder, offloading the unnecessary weight, and hear it crash into one of your wicker chairs as you dash down your porch steps. You fly around the side of the house, mud squelching and slipping beneath your tennis shoes, and just before you reach your backdoor, you trip.

All the air in your lungs whooshes out as you collide with the cold, wet ground, and mud squishes up between your fingers as you skid forward on your stomach. Pain zaps through the knee you landed on like lightning, and you gasp, but you don’t have time to sit here. He’s gaining on you. You can feel his presence at your back, if you can just get inside before he reaches you…

You scrabble forward, clawing at the mud and flinging clumps behind you as you struggle back up to your feet. Footsteps squish behind you, measured, slow.

The screen door crashes against the wall as you fling it open, but you hardly hear it over the blood rushing through your ears. Luckily, or stupidly, you never lock your back door, and though you have a hard time grasping the knob with your mud-slick palms, it gives way quickly as you barrel your entire body through it. When you slam it shut, your whole house rattles. A silence settles over you, thick like smoke and just as suffocating. Over the roar of blood in your ears, all you can hear is your own ragged breathing. 

Then, you laugh.

You bend over, hands gripping your knees, lungs still burning, heart still pounding, and you start laughing. Mud is drying on your skin and clothes, and as your body quakes from the force of your laughter, flakes drift to the floor in front of you. Adrenaline throbs through your body, and something stirs in your stomach, intermingling with the fear that’s still got your teeth on edge and your hands shaking. Before you can name it, the doorknob in front of you jiggles.

He’s trying to open it.

You slap both hands over your mouth to stifle the giggles still pouring out. You wonder if he can hear you, if your girlish sounds of mirth are amusing or irritating to him. The knob wiggles harder, more insistently, forcing the door to tremble on its hinges, and just when you think it’s going to shake itself loose - it stops. The quiet creeps back in as you lower your hands, giggles under control for now. Seconds bleed into minutes, and you’re just standing by the door, watching it expectantly, like at any moment, the lock will magically fail and allow your unexpected guest inside. 

Bangbangbang!

You can’t help the scream that bursts from your lips. The sound of a demanding fist pounding on your door rings out like a shot, and you aren’t even aware that your feet are whisking you away and into your kitchen until you’ve almost run straight into the counter. When you whip back around, ready to threaten the presence at the door and bluff your ass off, the banging stops as suddenly as it started.

Oh, he’s good.

You scurry to the living room and snap the curtains closed on all the windows, but not before peering outside. You eye the spot where the van is supposed to be parked and are met with nothing but empty forest.

Where did he go? He couldn’t have driven off that quickly, could he? Surely you would’ve heard the tires squeal over the forest floor, and surely he couldn’t have disappeared in a matter of seconds? You nibble your bottom lip again and back away from the windows.

You rub your bare arms, trying to soothe the gooseflesh that’s apparated over your entire body and take a deep, shuddering breath. Your heart still thunders against your ribcage, so much so that you’re sure it’d be audible from across the room. 

You only notice the envelope taped to your fridge when you turn to face the kitchen.

You almost scream again. The writing on the outside is a familiar scrawl, addressed in black ink to a “Sweetheart.” Your legs are like lead as they shuffle over to the fridge, and when you bring the letter to your face with trembling fingers, a blend of cigarettes, weed, and something earthy-sweet wafts into your nose. Your resolve melts a little when you peel open the envelope and read the note within:

Hope you liked the flowers. I picked ‘em special for you. I’ll be seeing you soon, sweetheart, even if you don’t see me. Behave yourself.

A shiver ripples down your spine. You run your fingers over the letter, feeling where he’s pressed the pen into paper so hard it’s left indentations. God, you’re so tempted to run outside and call for him now, to end this little game before it’s even truly begun - the heat in your cheeks and the throbbing between your legs demands it. But where’s the fun in that? 

You hug the note to your chest, chewing your lip, and slide down to the floor like a smitten schoolgirl instead of someone who should be terrified that their house was broken into and that whoever broke in left you a note promising constant observation. And on some level, you are scared. But the fear is the best part of all of this.

When Eddie asked you weeks ago if you ever had any fantasies you’d be interested in roleplaying, you’re sure he was expecting you to say you’d love to be the naughty student to his seductive professor or even something in a fantastical, magical vein that he could really sink his teeth into, but you didn’t. You hadn’t wanted to answer him at first, truthfully, because for all the dark, wicked things you’d already confessed made you embarrassingly wet, you didn’t think Eddie would be very on board with the idea of acting like some psycho stalker while you pretended to fear for your life.

Oh, how wonderfully wrong you were. 

You hardly had to elaborate on the finer details of your fantasy before he emphatically agreed to participate, and he didn’t allow you to leave anything out, either. When you tried, when you curled in on yourself or tucked your head out of shyness, Eddie was there, grabbing your chin and crowding into your space, encouraging you with his velvet-soft tenor to keep going. The words tumbled out of you so freely it was like you weren’t even thinking about them - you confessed to wanting to be desired so fiercely that nothing would stop Eddie in his pursuit, not even you running from him. You wanted him to obsess over you, to make it clear that he was always there, always watching and waiting for another opportunity to express his devotion, whether you liked it or not.

You admitted, with Eddie’s deft fingers rubbing tantalizing circles around your clit, that you wanted him to make you scared. True, bone-chilling fear isn’t what you were after; you just wanted that thrill, that dump of adrenaline that kicked your body into overdrive, like when you’d watch a scary movie. In the face of mundanity, the dreary day-to-day that was living in Hawkins, that jolt of fear let you know, doubtlessly, that you were alive. 

The shrill chime of the phone tears you from your thoughts, and you yelp. You back into the fridge reflexively, eyeing the phone on the adjacent wall like it’s a wild animal rearing to bite if you make a move toward it. Your heart batters so hard against your chest that you’re sure it’ll burst free at any moment and plop on the floor in a bloody, steaming heap. Gross.

You don’t move, and the phone rings out. The house isn’t silent for a full second before a second call jars the receiver, and you swallow thickly. You wonder how many calls you’d have to ignore before Eddie came banging around the house again, and for a moment, you consider doing just that. But that’s not part of the game. You’re supposed to be a poor, helpless victim who does just the wrong thing at just the wrong time. So you stand, your thighs quaking with the effort of keeping you upright, and pick up the phone.

“H-Hello?” 

“Why’d you run from me, sweet thing?” Eddie croons. His voice is dark and smooth, and even through the receiver, it rumbles right down into your core. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Who is this?” you ask, and though the tremble in your voice is real, it isn’t from fear. You’re so fucking excited. You have to chew on your thumbnail just to suppress the giggles building in your throat, and you’re glad, for once, that Eddie can’t see the smile on your face. 

“Aw, what, you don’t recognize me?” Eddie pouts, and you can practically hear him jutting out his bottom lip. “That hurts, sweetheart. Really stings.”

“Who…who the fuck are you?”

Eddie sucks in a hissing breath through his teeth. “Ouch, such foul language from such a pretty girl. I should wash your mouth out for that.”

The thought is, confusingly, very arousing. You decide you’ll table that and bring it up to Eddie at a later date.

“Anyway. D’you get my note?” he asks, as cool and casual as ever. 

“I…How the fuck did you get into my house?”

He laughs. “Let’s not pretend you live in Fort Knox here, sweetheart. All I needed was a few tools and five minutes, and boom - it opened up like it was waiting for me. Just like you will.”

Fuck. You choke on your tongue as you press your back to the wall, knees buckling and threatening to drop you to the floor. You wonder where he’s calling from, if he drove away from your house, or if he just retreated further into the woods. If he’s out there now, watching, waiting. 

“I’m not doing shit for you, you fucking weirdo,” you snarl, and Eddie laughs again. 

“I am definitely gonna have to teach you some manners, aren’t I? Rude little thing, you are. I wonder if you’d be so keen on mouthing off if I was standing right in front of you.”

“I’m not scared of you.” A lie; you’re most definitely scared, but you’re also so fucking horny you’re having a hard time thinking straight. By sheer force of will, you don’t beg down the phone for Eddie to just come and take you now. You want to wait and play this whole thing out just as you two had planned, but God, it is so hard to have patience when he condescends to you. 

“You should be,” Eddie purrs. “‘Cause you know what I like to do to mouthy little brats like you?” You hear him shift wherever he is, and the sigh that billows past his lips sends a shiver down your spine. You know that sound intimately, and how his breath hitches as he speaks confirms precisely what you’re thinking.

“I like to make them scream. Break ‘em ‘til they beg for mercy. And it’d be so easy to do, tiny little thing like you can’t even run two feet without tripping over herself.” 

Your mind goes blank. An embarrassed flush rises high on your cheeks, but you hardly notice; Eddie’s low, almost imperceptible groan is bouncing around the inside of your skull, and you know for a fact you heard the jingle of his belt coming undone. He’s touching himself, maybe pulling his cock out of his jeans as you speak, so aroused at what he has planned for when he gets his hands on you that he can’t help himself. You clench your thighs tightly, pretending your panties aren’t getting wetter by the second.

“I-I’m gonna call the cops,” you threaten weakly. “I’m gonna c-call them right now, and when they get here they’ll-”

“They’ll what, sweetheart? Hm? C’mon, don’t be silly, you know they won’t believe you. Not like they’d be faster than me anyway. By the time they busted in, I’d already have my cock down your throat.”

You have to bite down on the back of your hand so hard it hurts to stop the moan that wants to spill out. This side of Eddie, this arrogant, cold, mean side of him, is unexpected but dizzyingly sexy. You can’t help the image that trickles into your brain: you on your knees, your hair fisted in Eddie’s hand as he thrust himself so deep in your throat that you’d have no choice but to gag on him, blinking tears from your eyes as your supposed “rescuers” came face-to-face with the very man you called to report in the first place. 

“I’ll be seeing you soon, Y/N,” Eddie promises, his voice gruff with arousal. “But I’ll make sure you don’t see me ‘til I want you to. Think you can be a good girl for me ‘til then?”

“Fuck you,” you spit, and he laughs.

“I thought so.” There’s a pause, and when Eddie speaks again, it’s softer, quieter, like he’s afraid someone is eavesdropping. “Are you okay, by the way? Like, really. That fall looked like it hurt.”

You smile, twisting the phone cord around your fingers. “I’m okay, baby. Just muddy. I don’t even think I scraped anything.”

“Good. Do you remember your safeword, angel?”

“Mmhm. Mercy.”

“And what happens if you call mercy?”

“Everything stops, right there and then,” you say, repeating what you’d gone over probably dozens of times before tonight. As excited as Eddie was, he refused to participate in anything risky like this without a safeguard, for both of your sakes. As he’d put it, “If the whole point is you sayin’ ‘no,’ how am I supposed to know when that really means ‘no?’” 

Eddie chuckles. “That’s my good girl. Alright, go get cleaned up. I’ll be watchin’ you.”

The line goes dead without another word.

You stare at the receiver for what feels like a long, long time. You’re half expecting him to call you back, maybe to taunt you some more, but he doesn’t.

You’re still so fucked. And you’re thrilled.

~~~

Days pass without much incident.

When you wake up the next morning, the daisies have all mysteriously disappeared from your porch, as if they were never there. Your duffel bag has been propped up in one of your wicker chairs, but when you unzip it, it’s empty, save for a single pink daisy at the bottom. You don’t know if Eddie’s around or watching, so you stealthily pluck the flower out of your bag and tuck it close to your chest. You suppose it sort of ruins the illusion if you keep your “stalker’s” creepy calling card, but beneath that, who are you to throw away the flowers your boyfriend gifts you?

You try to go about your life normally but catch yourself constantly looking over your shoulder, flinching at every twig that breaks in the woods, running to the window to fling the curtains open if you think you hear a voice on the breeze outside. There’s never anything there, but you always check. Nighttime is when Eddie’s decided he’s going to mess with you the most. He doesn’t need to break in, as you gave him a key ages ago, but you’d discussed that feeling more authentic for the fantasy, so he does it. 

He comes in at around three o’clock every night - you awake to footsteps creaking along your floorboards, shadows rippling over your wall, and dissipating in the blink of an eye, but when you gather the courage to storm down the hallway, he’s nowhere to be seen. You only know he was there because his scent lingers behind him, earth-sweet and smokey with cigarettes. The anticipation makes it harder to fall asleep every night, like a kid waiting to catch Santa Claus in the act.

After a week, he amps it up. You awake to daisies in front of your bedroom door, and when you return home from work that night, a white one is on your pillow. He’s edging closer and closer to you, circling like a vulture readying its descent toward its meal. You start waking up to calls in the middle of the night, but when you pick up, Eddie doesn’t speak. He only breathes, deep and slow, into your ear until you scream at him and hang up. You toothlessly attempt to brat at him, perhaps bait him into just doing whatever the fuck he’s planning already, but he remains cool-headed. When you swear at him, he merely chuckles, a knowing, expectant sound, and any insults you can conjure during your calls go unheeded. 

That’s possibly the scariest part about this - Eddie does not, and has never, taken your bratting lightly. He enjoys nothing more than putting you squarely back in your place should you decide to put even one toe out of line, so the fact that he’s permitting abject disrespect and taunting from you means he is biding his time. You know he’s running a mental tally in his head, and you will soon reap the consequences. 

That thought runs rampant in your head when you doze off one night, too exhausted to keep your eyes open. The book you’re reading lays askew on your lap, and the rain pattering against your window lulls you into a deep, dreamless sleep. You don’t know what time you drift off at, nor how long it is before you’re jostled awake, but when you regain consciousness, you’re immediately cognizant of three things.

First, you are upside down. Blood pools in your skull, making it very hard to concentrate on anything but the dull, persistent throb in your head.

Second, you can’t move. You thrash uselessly, but your arms burn in the position they’re forced into behind your back, and your legs have been bound at the ankles. 

Lastly, your mouth is full. You try to scream, but the sound comes out garbled behind a thick, round hunk of something that’s been shoved so far into your jaw that it aches. You can feel thin straps on either side of your face, digging into the tender flesh of your cheeks, and when you poke at the strange object with your tongue, all you feel is smooth, rubbery roundness.

The fog of sleep stubbornly refuses to clear quickly enough for you to orient yourself, so all you can gather for a moment is that you’re cold. When you shiver, a dark, gleeful sound slithers up your spine, one you’d recognize any day.

“Well, good morning, gorgeous,” Eddie hums, and when he shifts, you glean a better understanding of what’s going on. He’s thrown you over his shoulder as if you weigh less than nothing and brought you outside somewhere. You can’t tell if you’re just outside your house or if this is a different part of the woods - all you can see are the dark, spindly shadows of dying trees against the velvet black of the night. You thrash futilely, screaming obscenities at him as best you can as buzzing heat cracks through your veins like lightning.

“Aw, what’s wrong? Didn’t order a wake-up call, huh?” 

His voice sounds oddly muffed, though you can’t discern if that’s due to the blood roaring in your ears. Something clatters open ahead of him, and before you can blink, you’re being tossed through the air. You shriek and land on something warm and soft; when you flex your fingers against it, you realize it’s a pile of thick, fuzzy blankets laid atop what appears to be a mattress. You don’t need to look further to realize where Eddie’s dumped you - you’re inside his van.

He’d modified the back of it ages ago, when you first started dating, partially because having sex on the floor was murder on your back and hips, but mostly so you two could have somewhere private to sleep and hang out. Eddie didn’t have anything against going to your place, but he always seemed…stiffer, somehow, inside the four walls of your home. Like he was acutely aware that he didn’t belong there, or at least didn’t feel like he belonged. Your house's tidy, eclectic decor was so different than the cluttered, shabby interior of his trailer, and that had never bothered you, but it so clearly bothered him.

When your eyes fall on Eddie’s face, you realize why he’d sounded so strange. He’s wearing a mask, one he no doubt procured from a Halloween store - the long, white face appears perpetually frozen in a mournful scream, and its black eyes are narrowed at you in apparent anguish. A black shawl hides Eddie’s long hair, blending in with his all-black outfit tonight. He tilts his head at you slowly, crossing his arms and leaning against the van’s open door.

“Whatsa matter, pretty girl? You look so scared. You scared of me?” His voice is cloyingly sweet, deliciously patronizing. You whip your head from side to side, viciously denying it, even though your entire body is shaking and your heart is hammering against your chest. You’re coming to regret your choice of pajamas tonight, as the thin, silky nightgown you’d chosen before slipping into bed does nothing to protect you from the frigid air trickling into the van. 

You’d also forgone panties entirely, something you aren’t sure Eddie’s noticed yet.

How long had it taken him to tie you up? You wiggle your arms within their bonds and glance down at your legs, noting the white, plastic sliver encompassing your ankles. Zip ties? Where the fuck did Eddie get zip ties? And how did he manage to use them without you waking up? Surely, no one was that careful.

Drool oozes from the corners of your mouth, dribbling embarrassingly down your neck, heedless of your attempts to rub it away with your shoulder. 

“If you behave, there’s nothing to be afraid of,” Eddie coos. He bends toward you, and a single, black-gloved finger crooks beneath your chin. He angles your face toward him, expression entirely indiscernible beneath his mask. His thumb brushes over your cheek so gently, mopping up some of your saliva, and you have to remind yourself of the part you’re playing so you don’t lean into his touch.

Then, Eddie’s hand is gone from your face, only resuming occupancy on your body when it closes around your throat. You squeak, a wet, pathetic sound from beneath your gag, and your eyes go wide as saucers.

“Although, you seem fucking incapable of behaving yourself lately,” he snarls, jostling you back and forth. “What’d you think was gonna happen, hm? Acting all fucking high and mighty, talking to me like I’m some scumbag? You need to learn some fucking respect, girl, some goddamn humility.”

You whimper, Eddie’s threats tingling pleasantly down to your pussy. Tears well up in your eyes, and you desperately try to communicate an apology, but it all comes out as broken nonsense. You knew this was coming; you knew he wouldn’t let you off scot-free for anything you’d said over the past week, but something about the white-hot indignation in his voice makes the fear smoldering beneath your arousal burn that much brighter. You try wrenching out of his grip, but all that earns you is a fist knotted in the hair at the back of your head. 

“Oh, you’re sorry?” Eddie mocks, pitching his voice higher. “Yeah, I bet you think you are. But you’re gonna learn what sorry looks like soon, what it really feels like. I told you, breaking little brats like you and making them scream for mercy is one of my favorite pastimes.”

Eddie shoves you onto your back, and the faint light from the yellowish bulb inside the van vanishes as he crawls on top of you. The chalk-white features of his mask hover just above your face, shiny and thick and reeking of powder. You wail in protest, hurling muddled insults at him while trying in vain to tug yourself free of the zip ties. The struggle feels good, cathartic, in a way. It helps to alleviate all the jittery, excited energy pent up inside your body, and it thrills you to know that Eddie won’t stop fighting you right back unless you call mercy. He’ll take what he wants from you as roughly as he pleases, and in turn, you’ll give him everything you have. You trust him implicitly, so when he grabs your throat again and squeezes until you’re gasping around your gag, you lay there with raw, feral arousal roiling in your belly instead of fear. 

“How’s my angel?” Eddie whispers into your ear, and you relax further into his hand. His fingers slacken just enough to allow you a small, shallow breath, and you nod vigorously. You hope your eyes can communicate what your mouth can’t right now. 

“Good girl, you’re doing great. If you need to tap out, I want you to kick your feet down three times, okay?” He raps his knuckles by your head to demonstrate his point. You nod again.

When he lifts his body off yours, cold air sweeps you up in its grasp, and you shudder. Wordlessly, Eddie hops out of the van and slams the door shut, leaving you alone in the back. He jumps in the front and revs the engine just as you’ve begun to scream and flail around again.

“Scream all you want, sweet thing,” he encourages. “No one’s gonna be able to hear you anyway. Nobody’s comin’ to save you from me.” The metallic squeal of a guitar suddenly bursts into your eardrums; Eddie’s turned on the radio and cranked it almost full blast, effectively drowning out all your cries for help. If anyone were outside the van, they wouldn’t even know you were there.

Eddie hits the gas, and the van thunders to life before speeding off into the night.

~~~

You must be more tired than you’d initially thought because somewhere between your initial “kidnapping” and the van finally skidding to a stop, you doze off again. 

It’s hard not to - Eddie blasts the heat, probably because he can see you shivering in his rearview mirror, and the blankets pressed beneath your nose smell just like him. How can you not bury your face in them? And you only intended to shut your eyes for a second, honestly.

A hand caressing your cheek pulls you from your sleepy haze, and you blink at Eddie’s still-masked face. Having briefly forgotten he was wearing it, he startles you, and you suck in a sharp breath as best you can through your gag. He chuckles.

“Just me, pretty girl. Look at you, drooling all over yourself already.”

You feel the slimy wetness of your saliva coating the side of your face as soon as he mentions it, and you self-consciously try to wipe some of it away by rubbing your face into the blanket. He lifts the corner and dabs it along your cheek and jaw.

“Do you need a minute, baby?” he asks. “You look so comfy.”

You shake your head. You can sleep back here whenever you want, but Eddie’s gone through all the trouble of dragging you out here (wherever here is) for a reason. You’re dying to see what it is. 

Satisfied with your answer, Eddie wraps his fist in the front of your nightgown and pulls so hard he forces you into a sitting position. Your arms tingle and your head spins with the sudden decrease in blood as he tugs on the loops holding your gag secure. As they fall away, the rubber ball in your mouth plops into your lap, but your mouth isn’t empty for more than a moment before Eddie’s gloved fingers slide across your tongue and press into the back of your throat. You gag and gasp in surprise, trying to flinch away, but Eddie holds your head in place with his free hand.

“If you scream, the next thing going in your mouth is gonna be my boxers,” he warns, and you wrinkle your nose. That’s a soft limit, something you’re not entirely willing to try but are open to having your boundaries pushed about, especially for a punishment. Admittedly, a dark, perverse thrill slinks through your gut at the thought. Having Eddie on your tongue like that, inescapable and unavoidably pungent, is equally humiliating and intriguing. But you don’t have time to try and weigh that thought out, so you just whimper and rock your head from side to side as much as possible.

“That’s what I thought. Keep your fucking mouth shut.”

He drags you out of the van by your gown, swinging your body in front of his as you settle unsteadily on your feet. You squint into the surrounding darkness and realize with a cold squeeze of dread that you have no earthly idea where Eddie has driven you. The trees are thicker here, dying leaves black in the moonlight, and there are no stars when you look up at the sky, only bulbous clouds. The air is still and cold, dense with the threat of rain. 

The edge of something scintillatingly sharp drags itself down your spine, dangerous even through the fabric of your nightgown. You don’t dare turn around, but you can feel Eddie pressing himself closer as he allows that pointed edge to linger on your flesh. 

“Feel that?” he asks. He taps it against your thigh, and you gasp.

“Y-Yes,” you squeak.

“That’s my knife.” Fuck. You have to hold your breath to prevent the moan that wants to spill out.

When Eddie kneels by your legs, he takes a moment to drag both hands appreciatively down either side of you, fingers flexing and kneading the soft flesh of your thighs as his blade pokes menacingly through your skirt. Then, in one swift motion, he slices through the zip tie around your ankles.

As if sensing your inclination to bolt away immediately, Eddie stands and snatches the plastic loop still ensnaring your wrists and tugs you backward against his chest. He wraps his other arm around your neck and the steel of his blade glints from the corner of your eye. You refrain from inhaling his scent, leather, cigarettes, and sweet earth, but just barely. 

“Hold on, bunny, don’t hop away just yet,” he murmurs against your hair. “I haven’t explained the rules of our game yet.”

“Game?”

“Mmhm. And if I hear one bit of attitude from you, I’m gonna cut this pretty little dress off you and make you run around these woods stark-naked. Do you understand me?”

“You wouldn’t dare,” you bite, not entirely understanding why you feel the need to do the exact opposite of what he’s just told you to do. He laughs, a downright sinister sound.

In one fluid movement, his knife cleaves through the front of your nightgown, splitting it open all the way down to your belly and allowing your breasts to spill out. Your nipples harden immediately from the frosty air, and you gasp, hands instinctively trying to cover yourself up. 

“What were you saying? I wouldn’t dare?” Eddie teases. He nudges the torn fabric aside purposefully, further exposing you and taking the opportunity to grope your soft, chilled flesh. Warm breath washes over your ear, and he grinds shamelessly into your ass from behind.

“Now, our game. I’m giving you the chance to run, run, run aaall the way home. If you can find the way back through the woods and make it there before I find you, you’re free, sweetheart. I’ll leave you be and won’t darken your doorstep anymore. But…” Eddie bends you over forcibly, ghosting his lips across your skin as he speaks. You want to beg for him; your body cries out for it, but you don’t. You’re so fucking wet from all of this, from his threats and the glaring danger of his blade, that your thighs stick together every time you adjust your stance to gain some semblance of balance.

“If I find you before you make it home,” Eddie purrs, “I will spend the rest of the night breaking you, bit by bit until you can’t remember why you ever wanted to run from me in the first place. You’ll be my perfect little victim. Sound fair?”

“I…I…” You’re certain your brain just split clear down the middle. Something inside of you, something ancient, urges you to flee, to make your way back to safety by any means possible. But something else, the very same need that demanded it be known all those weeks ago when you first told Eddie about it, desperately wants to be caught. You want to streak through these woods, possibly getting yourself hopelessly lost in the process, only to have Eddie successfully hunt you down and make you suffer so beautifully for him. It’s so overwhelming that you don’t notice Eddie’s cut through the zip ties on your wrists until both arms have fallen limply at your sides.

He steps back, leaving you uncomfortably cold all over again, and lands a hard swat on your ass. You yelp and twirl around to face him, glaring heatedly at that morose white mask. His arms are folded, his posture is relaxed - you haven’t even started running yet, and he’s already so confident, the bastard. You pinch the sides of your shredded nightgown together and step back from him.

He flaps the hand clutching his knife at you, waving you off. “Go on,” he says. “Run along. I’ll even give you a thirty-second headstart since I’m so nice.”

When you, stupidly, don’t move a muscle, he heaves a sigh and pulls the sleeve of his jacket up to look at his watch. “Twenty-eight, twenty-seven-twenty-six…”

Shit. You pick a random direction and sprint.

The sound of him counting fades as distance mounts between you, and once you’re alone, in the total silence of the forest, Eddie is not the only thing you’re afraid of. You’ve heard stories about these woods, the frightening disappearances, and general odd goings-on that happen within. As you leap over a dead, fallen log while determinedly holding your rapidly disintegrating nightgown together, you recall what happened a few years ago to the kid Hawkins deemed Zombie Boy. Supposedly found long dead in a reservoir, bloated and green with decay, his family even held a funeral for him - only for him to turn up, alive and well, weeks later. What could’ve caused such a terrible misunderstanding? What’s worse, who’s to say that whatever - or whoever - caused that misunderstanding isn’t still out here? Who’s to say that they aren’t listening to every branch that snaps below your bare feet, that they haven’t picked up on your scent by now and are tracking you with all the stealth and efficiency of a wolf?

You shake the thought from your head and persevere. 

You can’t remember, for the life of you, what direction home is in. You must start down half a dozen different paths before you think better of it and double back to the place you started, and none of your options seem correct. You curse yourself for dozing off in Eddie’s van instead of trying to count how many turns he took, what direction he was going in, anything that might help orient yourself now. 

Something rustles the bushes a few yards behind you.

You don’t think - you pick a path and fly down it, swatting low-hanging branches out of your way and ignoring the brambles that hook into the fraying hem of your nightgown. Maybe you should’ve let Eddie cut this cumbersome thing off you when you had the chance. All pretense of trying to be sneaky, of trying not to attract attention, is gone - you are running blind, panting, heaving, whimpering, slapping down tree limbs, and crunching over dead leaves in the hopes you manage to stay just out of Eddie’s reach.

You are terrified. You are exhilarated. You’ve never felt this free in your entire life, and you can’t believe it’s taken you so long to ask Eddie for this.

You weren’t sure before, as you’d tried to tell yourself it was just the sound of your own footfalls echoing in the woods, but you’re certain now that you can hear Eddie’s boots striking the ground as he gains on you. Your thighs burn with the effort of propelling you forward, and every pull of ice-cold air into your lungs is like swallowing needles, but you press on. You want him to catch you, but he needs to work for it, and as you swing a hard left over fallen logs, his hysterical laughter explodes into your ears.

You chance a look over your shoulder. Eddie’s lithe body weaves and slinks through the forest behind you, seemingly unaffected by the foliage that’s presently slicing open the bottoms of your feet and legs; his mask bobs mournfully above his black clothes, a bloodless beacon reflecting what little moonlight leaks through the thick stormclouds above. He’s so close that if he really wanted to, he could reach out and snatch you up by the nape of your neck like a kitten.

You scream. The sound reverberates through the trees, shrill and elated, and another round of laughter booms from Eddie like thunder.

You’ve just managed to leap over a gnarled root without tripping over it or slipping in the mud when you feel fingers at the back of your neck. You squeal and swat aimlessly, which is a stupid fucking idea - Eddie nabs your wrist and pulls, forcing you to come to a skidding halt.

“Let go of me, you fucking freak!” you wail, thrashing against him as he gathers your hands together and snickers into your ear. 

“Looks like I win, pretty girl,” he breathes. Something jingles just beyond your head, and before you can wonder what it is, Eddie shows you - steel handcuffs, silver and glittering, dangle in front of your eyes. You whimper and drive your elbows backward, fighting with everything you have to force Eddie off you. You succeed, albeit minimally, and can free one hand. You swing and claw at him, fingers scraping for something to grab hold of until they finally pinch one of his mask’s eye sockets. Lightning cracks across the sky overhead as you rip the mask off Eddie’s face.

The brief flash of light gives you a full look at his face. His brown eyes are wild and bright, crinkled at the edges from the maniacal grin splitting his cheeks apart. His skin is pink and glowing with sweat, and you can’t help how your heart swells as you stare at him. Perhaps if you ever do this again, you’ll set a shorter time limit - you don’t know if you can handle not seeing him for over a week again. 

“If you’d stop squirmin’, this’d all go so much faster, sweetheart,” Eddie huffs, trapping your hands together again as you uselessly pound them against his chest. Despite your best efforts, Eddie snaps one cuff around your wrist with a soft click and, as he works on the second one, pushes you both up against the broad trunk of a tree. The bark scrapes painfully along your shoulder blades as you shriek and try to kick him off of you, but it’s too late. He wrenches your arms above your head by the thin chain connecting the handcuffs, and browning leaves descend onto your face as he loops them over a branch. 

It’s so high up that you must stand on your tip-toes to avoid burdening your arms with all your weight. Because of that, you can’t gain enough momentum to swing them back down, and Eddie takes a leisurely step back to admire how well and truly stuck you are. He pants, leaning forward on his knees and staring at you through his dark lashes.

“Goddamn, you are a feisty little thing, aren’t you?” he asks, giggling breathlessly.

“Get me down from here, right now,” you growl. Admittedly, it’s very hard to be intimidating while your tits hang out of your shredded nightgown, but you still try.

“That’s not what we agreed on. I told you - I catch you, you’re mine. Good thing, too, my dick was just achin’ watching your cute little ass running from me.”

You whimper as Eddie straightens himself out, heaving one final, deep breath before passing a hand through his hair. You don’t realize he’s flicked his knife out again until he’s got the blade right beneath your nose.

“Now, let’s get this shit outta the way.”

You gasp and reflexively bend your body away as Eddie plunges the sharp edge down through what remains of your nightgown, hacking away at it as if it’s personally offended him until it’s reduced to nothing but a pile of silken scraps by your feet. You shudder, wholly unprotected from the cold now and utterly incapable of hiding the arousal smeared down your inner thighs from him.

His breath clouds in front of him as his eyes roam over your naked body with all the hunger of a predator eyeing its meal. The pink of his tongue darts across his bottom lip as he stalks up to you, already making quick work of his belt.

“D-Don’t touch me, don’t you fucking touch me!” you howl, even though the idea of his hands on you right now makes your stomach flutter. He ignores you, of course, and casts his gloves aside before resting both hands on the trembling flesh of your biceps. He’s so wonderfully warm, blood pumping right below the surface of his skin.

“I can’t wait to split this pretty pussy open,” he murmurs, mouth hovering just above your cheek as he drags his fingers down, down, down until they’re slipping between your hips and cupping you. You try to disguise the pathetically aroused sound that falls from your mouth by shrieking in faux disgust.

“Stop it! Get off, get off!”

“Dirty girl, you’re soaking wet for me already.” Without warning, Eddie plunges two fingers deep inside you, chuckling at how your eyes roll into the back of your head, and a scream tears itself from your throat. 

“S-Stop it,” you sob. You throb around him, unable to disguise your body’s physical reactions, and it only sweetens everything for you. The way your cunt betrays everything you’re saying, twitching and clenching and gushing around Eddie’s fingers in the face of your pleas for him to stop, your insistence that you don’t want him, pulls you deeper into this fantasy. 

“I don’t think you really want me to stop,” he muses, thrusting in and out of you so slow you’re confident you’ll go bat-shit insane soon. “If you did, you wouldn’t be dripping for me. What a nasty girl you are, all worked up for the big, scary man who chased you down in the woods like a scared little bunny rabbit.”

“Fuck…fuck you,” you say weakly, and stars explode behind your eyes as Eddie curls his fingers inside you. You screw your eyes shut and press your lips together to trap the noises threatening to burst out of you. 

“Oh, I will,” he promises. “I’m gonna fuck you stupid. And then, I think I’ll keep you all for myself. Take you home and keep you tied to my bed like a good little pet. I’m sure you’ll learn to love it.”

You could cum just from listening to Eddie talk. Your heart is pounding so hard you can feel it beneath your tongue, and if it weren’t for the steel around your wrists forcing you upright, you’d sink to the ground and beg for him to fuck you already. You don’t care if it’d break the illusion, if it doesn’t coincide with the game - you are desperate, dripping just as he said, and the lust fogging your brain makes it impossible to consider anything but your own arousal.

“P-Please,” you whimper, hoping all you need from him is conveyed in that one word.

Something hot and hard nudges between your legs, and you gasp - you didn’t see him do it, but Eddie’s removed his cock from his jeans. The hand not buried against your pussy is fisted around the base of it, pale against his red, wet shaft and thick head. You gulp hard. 

“Please? What a sweet word out of that filthy mouth.” He crushes you harder against the tree and lifts one leg over his hip, stroking himself slowly as you struggle to keep your eyes forward. His fingers leave your weeping cunt painfully empty for a brief moment, and then he slides his cock through the slick puddling just below your hole and teases his head around the rim. 

“Oh, darn, looks like I forgot a condom, too,” Eddie says, sucking his teeth and shaking his head at his apparent negligence. Your stomach clenches, and heat pools between your hips. “I’m sure you don’t mind, do you, dollface?”

When Eddie enters you, you tip your head back and moan. It’s been a criminally long time since you’ve felt him inside you like this, hot and raw and forcing your muscles to stretch around his thick cock. It burns just a little, but the lack of prep and the pain hueing your pleasure makes it better.

“God, God, oh God…”

“Nope, just you and me, sweetheart.”

Eddie’s teeth latch onto the flesh below your jaw, pinching and sucking it into his mouth as he bullies his cock deeper inside you. Usually, he’d take his time getting you ready for it, loosening you up around his fingers and drawing a few orgasms out of you until you were perfectly pliant for him. Right now, though, he doesn’t have it in him to bother with all that, and you are so grateful.

Fat drops of rain plop onto your hair and dribble down the sides of your face as Eddie starts fucking you in earnest. His hands come around to grasp greedy handfuls of your ass and pull you in tighter against him, and he quickly litters the side of your throat with hickeys as his hips snap forward. You can’t help how you squeal and groan as you’re jostled against the tree, and you realize with a shudder of humiliation that you’re getting close already.

“P-Please…please, Eddie, please…” You don’t particularly know what you’re begging for; you just hope he’ll take pity on you for it and give you more. You need impossibly more. You need him to ruin you properly. The way he throbs inside you reminds you of the lack of protection, and you beg for him again.

“What a fuckin’ whore. I knew you wanted it,” Eddie snarls, the edge of his teeth rasping against your jaw. 

“I…fuck, Eddie, please, it’s so much,” you whine, choking on air as he buries himself as deep as he can get. He shushes you, and another flash of lightning in the sky illuminates his handsome face as he pulls back to look at you.

“Do you need mercy, baby?” he asks, blinking rain from his big brown eyes. Your hair sticks wetly to either side of your face, and you can’t tell if you’re shivering more from cold or pleasure. You whip your head from side to side.

“N-No, no mercy,” you mewl, “I-I just…please, please just fuck me, break me, I need it so fucking badly, baby, please.”

He doesn’t respond, not verbally, anyway. He yanks your other leg around his hip, settling your weight entirely in his lap, and the slight change in angle pushes him just that little bit further inside your twitching cunt. Your mouth drops wide open as he quickens his pace, the denim of his jeans slapping against your bare ass so hard it burns, and the way he grunts from the effort makes your toes curl.

“I didn’t think you’d be such an easy fuck,” Eddie teases. “Guess you’re just a dirty slut after all, huh?”

“Fuck, oh God, fuck, I’m cumming, I can’t stop, E-Eddie!”

Your orgasm scorches through you like molten lava, burning you from the inside out and robbing you of enough air to scream. As Eddie continues pounding into you, you claw at the branch beneath your fingers, desperate for something to anchor you to reality. You don’t think you’ve ever cum this hard in your entire life, and the fact you did so without even once touching your clit fills you with an odd sort of pride.

“Fuckin’ squirting all over me, fuck, sweetheart,” Eddie growls, and you only realize he’s right when warmth starts trickling down your thighs. You blush, trying futilely to bury your face in his neck out of embarrassment. When he doesn’t stop fucking you, and your orgasm ebbs enough for pain to start lapping at the edges of your pleasure, you whimper.

“H-Hurts, hurts.”

Eddie shushes you. “I’m not done with you yet. Just shut up and take it, like my good little victim.”

He crushes you tightly against the tree, huffing and panting into your ear while he desperately chases his own pleasure inside you. You cry out openly, the chill of the rain intermingling with the heat of his body against you so deliciously that you think that if lightning struck the pair of you right now, you’d die a happy woman. 

“You’re gonna take every drop of my cum, understand?” Eddie snarls. “If even one drop leaks out of you, you’re gonna lick it up.”

“Yes, fuck, I understand.”

“Your pussy clenches so hard when I threaten you, baby, fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”

Thunder claps overhead as Eddie presses stills inside you, cockhead pressed as deep as it’ll go inside your throbbing slit and starts cumming with a wanton howl into the night. Liquid heat floods into your core, and though you weren’t even aware of it building again, your second orgasm crashes into you as you realize the risk you’ve just partaken in by letting Eddie cum inside you. It feels so right, allowing him to claim you this way, bearing his mark on the deepest part of you, and you know for a fact that after tonight, you will beg him to never use another condom again. 

When he’s finished, Eddie sags against you, trembling hands digging into the globes of your ass as he shakily supports your weight. You pant, blinking rain out of your eyes, and kiss the wet curls beside your face.

“Thank you,” you murmur.

~~~

Turns out, Eddie didn’t take you far from home at all.

In fact, he drove only a mile away and spent about forty-five minutes doing circles in the woods because he didn’t want to disturb your nap. He tells you this as he leads you out of the forest and back to the van, holding his leather jacket above your head like a makeshift umbrella.

He retrieves a towel from inside and wraps it around your shivering, rain-soaked body before planting you in the driver’s seat. After he drapes a thick, flannel blanket around your shoulders and points all the vents toward you as the heat blasts, he cups your face in both hands and kisses your forehead.

“You did such a good job, sweetheart,” he murmurs, trailing his lips down over both eyes, your cheeks and finally landing on your trembling lips. His mouth, despite everything, is still so warm.

“I did?” you ask sleepily. He nods and rubs your arms to inspire blood flow back into your extremities. 

“You did. I’ll draw a bath for you once I get you home, okay?”

“Join me?” Eddie smiles and pinches the sides of the blanket tighter around your shoulders.

“I would, but someone’s gotta feed us both.”

When he hops into the driver’s side, you note with a snort that he’s stripped down to his boxers. He laughs and revs the engine, throwing an arm over your seat as he reverses out of the forest.

Eddie doesn’t allow you to walk the few paces up the steps and across the porch to get inside your house. Instead, he cradles you against his chest, bridal-style, and struts through the door he purposefully left unlocked before setting you down on the toilet in the bathroom. You slump against the sink as he readies your bath, arms pillowing your head and eyelids drooping. Steam fills the room and carries the sweet, light scent of roses, and the flash of a pink bottle in Eddie’s hand clues you into the fact he’s dumped some soap into the faucet to create huge piles of white, frothy bubbles.

You’re nowhere near steady enough to lower yourself into the tub alone, so Eddie grips you by the elbows and slowly sinks down until your butt hits the water. It’s almost too hot at first, but after your body adjusts to the sudden change in temperature, you recline against the porcelain at your back and sigh. Eddie brushes a hand over your hair and kisses your forehead again. 

“Thank you,” you mutter, eyes closed.

“It was my pleasure, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you, you handled everything like a champ.”

You glow under his praise and nestle further into the hot water and bubbles. It’s going to be a challenge not to doze off here.

When you blink your eyes open, Eddie’s still hovering next to you, lips quirked in a small, soft smile as the early morning light falls in purplish shafts over his face. You reach for him, sliding your palm through the hair at the back of his head, and bring him close enough to kiss his lips. He tastes like rain and cigarettes.

“I’ll come get you when the food’s ready, alright?” he whispers, squeezing the hand you’ve rested on the rim of the tub before standing. You nod dreamily.

“I love you,” you call after him, and though his frame is bleary through the steam condensing in the room, you see him turn back and smile at you.

“I love you too, pretty girl.”

taglist: @silky-luxe, @celestialwaavelength, @bornslippys. if you'd like to be added to my taglist, i have a post on my page, or you can dm me!

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things smut #ao3 author #eddie munson x reader #f!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #ghostface #kinktober #kintober 2023 #stranger things fic #stranger things kinktober #stranger kinks #my writing

[chokeonitslutt]

Every boop I send is me slapping your ass because you're a good girl.

#hard k1nk #cnc daddy #bd/sm daddy #bd/sm kink #fr33use #free use slvt #bd/sm community #br33d1ng #sex with strangers #spankable bottom

[hoppingonjim]

Open your hips- Steve Harrington

summary: in your golf swing you're having a little trouble opening up your hips, coach harrington is more than happy to help.

cw: (kind of) dark!steve harrington, perv!steve harrington, breeding kink, steve takes advantage of reader's innocence , touching w/o permission, lying, sexual thoughts, coach lusting after player, (both parties are 18+), afab!reader warning: don't read if you don't like this, if the warnings don't seem like your thing, move along <3

part two!

"coach! need help!"

he couldn't resist your little whine. he had been eyeing you hungrily the entirety of your session on the driving range. that little skort, the shorts tight around your creamy thighs. hugging and displaying the fat of your ass when the wind blew over. 

in a strut, he moved closer to you, wetting his bottom lip and using all the willpower he had to concentrate on your eyes. those large eyes, eyelashes long and curling upward, the black shadow highlighting your perfect pupils. 

he inched closer, eyes on your hips now, "take a swing for me."

he studied you, how you used the club to tap a ball out of the wired bucket. lining up and thrusting your hips inwards to perfect your spine angle. he watched your body coil as it turned back, the tight polo you wore stretching and flaunting your perky breasts that attempted to squeeze through the fabric. in brief gusts of cool wind, your nipples poked through the thin fabric, enchanting his eyes. they just begged to be sucked, to be twisted and circled with his tongue. 

they begged to be full and heavy with milk, leaking sweet milk for him in his mouth. all because he could fill you up, swell your belly with his perfect harrington prodigy. 

"hm, i see the problem," he leaned down, crouching next to your legs and holding onto your hips. his hands gripped tightly, earning a little- shocked- whimper from your lips.

"couch? whatcha gonna do?" your baby-like voice only made his pants tighten more than before. his cock was strained, fantasizing about shutting you up. ending that baby voice by shoving himself down your throat, making you choke on his fat cock, mouth drooling. spit dripping onto your little white polo.

"gonna hold these hips and make them fully turn, alright?" 

you could only meekly nod, a rose tint flush on your cheeks once you felt the tight grip he held on your hips. he re-gripped his fingers, curling them around the fatty parts. with the new view he could see your folds, snugged by the tight cloth for the shorts under your skort. they seemed so pretty, so needy for him to smack. 

there was a desperation he was facing, to bring two fingers up between those peeping folds of yours. to coat his fingers in your slick, hell he could see you weren't wearing any panties.. now he just wondered if you were soaked or not.

desperation had led to temptation, and steve harrington had no will power. he delivered a quick smack to your folds, legs shaking subtly at the sound of your little whimper.

"c-coach, what was that for?"

your innocence was just as sexy as your body. he could feel your slick on his fingers, licking each one, thankful for the net-like texture of the skort. 

"saw a bug on your, kitten parts, can't let such a pretty pussy have a bug on it, can we?" he cocked an eyebrow, gulping in hopes to hide the smirk. the flesh of your folds was still imprinted on his touch, wanting to squeeze the plump parts of your pussy, but knowing he couldn't.

not yet.

"n-no coach, thank you." you tried to smile, heart racing a mile a minute. he was just looking out for you, you didn't know any better. you didn't know he was lying, or that he squeezed his cock to visions of your perky ass before. 

"no need to thank me, you're the princess on the team, gotta make sure you're taken care of. now, take another swing for me, let me open up these hips."

#perv!steve #perv!steve harrington #steve harrington smut #dom!steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things smut #st4 #coach!steve harrington #tw: innocence kink #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #jonathan byers #golf #sexy sports #dark!steve harrington

[ssweetleaf]

cherry pie.

pairing— dilf!steve harrington x fem babysitter!reader

w/c— 4.5k

♡ summary— turns out your little crush on mr harrington isn’t so one-sided after all, and after many unsuccessful dates, he starts to realise that no one is as good to him as you are.

♡ includes— SMUT 18+, age gap (unspecified, but reader is early 20s, steve is early 40s), heavy on the daddy kink i’m sorry, hung!steve, oral (m receiving), praise, nipple play?, breeding kink, smut goes 0-100 real quick sorry, unprotected p in v (wear protection in real life please), steve’s hairy chest makes an appearance bc i’m feral for it, terrible TERRIBLE ending bc it’s me and you should expect it by now!!!

a/n— pleasepleaseplease let me know what you think!!

˖ ࣪⭑

You felt pathetic.

Sat on the couch, aimlessly staring at some black and white re-runs on the television while you waited for him. Mr Harrington— clad in his formal attire, he had mentioned before he left while fumbling to put on his watch that he had a date, one that he was already extremely late for— and shit, you couldn’t help the way your chest ached with jealousy, a lump forming in the back of your throat while you tried your best to keep up your sweetest smile.

“Help yourself to anything, honey- what’s mine is yours, you know that.” he spoke, and you held out his coat for him, helping him slip it up his arms and over those broad fucking shoulders, mulling over his choice of words and that stupid pet name.

Whats mine is yours. What’s mine is yours. What’s mine is yours.

“Thanks hon, I’ll be back a little late tonight- kids need to be in bed by 9 at the latest and remember to call me if you need anything.” You nodded, muttering a small okay, before he pressed a little kiss to your forehead, “alright, see you later.”

So hours later, with both kid’s tucked up into bed all tuckered out, you thought about him— the way he looked, so handsome in his shirt and tie, expensive cologne pressed into his wrists and behind his ears, filling your senses completely when he leaned to press his usual friendly kiss, one that never failed to have your knees buckling underneath you.

But that was all it was. Friendly. You were just the babysitter, too young for him, too inexperienced for him, and your face soured when you thought about what his date might look like. Pretty dress and manicured nails wrapping around the glass that held her too-expensive wine, fluttering her lashes and running her leg against his underneath the table— she was probably a lot closer to his age too.

You sighed, pout prominent on your lips, trying to snap yourself out of whatever you had going on, falling for an older man all while you babysat his kids.

Yeah, so pathetic.

12:3am— the clock ticked away upon the mantle piece, going by so slowly you had started to feel your eyes become heavy, though you were soon snapped out of your little stupor at the sound of the front door closing, footsteps clicking along the hall and keys being thrown on the counter.

You rushed to get up, inwardly scolding yourself for seeming so eager, before making your way out to greet him.

“Hey, honey-” his usual smile wasn’t there, instead a frown etched at the corners of his lips, brows furrowed, the lines on his forehead deepening. “Everything go okay?”

You nodded, but quickly followed up with an answer at the quirk of his brow— he liked when you used your words.

“It went great- I think I really tired them out,” you smiled, pulling at the collar of his coat to take it off him, watching him fix himself some whiskey, the crystal tumbler clacking against the rings on his fingers all while he settled himself on the leather armchair.

You frowned at his lack of conversation— he was usually so chatty, cooing over you for being so sweet to take care of his kids for him, but there he was, silent and mulling over god knows what.

“Mr Harrington?” You inched closer, toeing at the carpet and fiddling with your fingers, not entirely sure how to approach him. “Is everything alright?”

His eyelids fluttered shut, huffing a breath through his nose and you took the time to take a good look at him. His shoulders tense, legs spread wide and the fist that held the whiskey was paling from his constant squeezes.

“I’m fine, doll, really-” he sighed, unoccupied hand scratching along the stubble that littered his pretty jaw. “S’just- m’so tired of these dates.”

Your lips jutted down in a frown, much similar to his, anything that masked the smile that wanted to form— you know it was terrible, but knowing his date went bad, it made a little bit of hope flutter around in the pit of your stomach.

So you sank to your knees, reaching for the laces to his polished shoes, pulling at the string to the bow to loosen it completely.

“Did you wanna talk about it?” You asked, pulling at the heel and putting it to the side to work on the other.

You saw him stutter, eyes glazing over a little bit at the way you knelt in front of him, all doe-eyed and doting on him, pretty lashes fluttering up at him whether you knew it or not.

“I-” he started, swallowing hard when your hands rested against his thighs, both shoes untied and discarded somewhere next to you. “They’re just- none of them are right for me.”

Your fingers kneaded at his tense thighs, trailing back and forth against the fabric of his pressed slacks.

“Shit—” he cupped your face in his big palm, stroking at the pudge of your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “No one is as good to me as you are, honey.”

You beamed up at his cooing, letting a giggle slip from your throat, giddy and inebriated from his little touches.

“I can make you feel good, too, Mr Harrington-” you were bashful when you said it, skin flushed and gaze flitting to the arm of his chair, fingertips still smoothing over the expanse of his thighs. “Let me make you feel good- please.”

Steve groaned, chest rumbling and he pushed his head back— you watched his adam’s apple bob while he swallowed, his neck on display and you pushed your thighs together when you thought about how pretty it would look covered in your lipstick stains.

“Honey— we can’t-” he stumbled over his words, gazing down at you with such a fondness in his eyes and there was something else, too, swirling around in his vision, all dark and honeyed, glistening in the low light of the lamps. “I’m too old for you— it isn’t right.”

“But, daddy—” you whined, his cock throbbed once you said it, rutting up from beneath his slacks and your fingers itched to press against the bulge there. “you said it yourself, no one is as good to you as I am.”

He felt like a teenager again, close to blowing his load already from the way you said that name. Your name for him and him only.

Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.

It swirled around in his thoughts over and over, round and round, and he had to press a palm against his cock to ease the throbbing just a little, and he didn’t miss the way your eyes widened, flitting towards his hand.

“Christ, honey— didn’t know you had such a dirty mouth on you.” He suckled his bottom lip between his teeth, gazing down at you, all warm and gooey, melting your insides into mush, butterflies fluttering around in your stomach and throat. “You really want an old man like me?”

Your eyebrows furrowed, pout prominent on your puffy lips.

“You’re not old,” he chuckled at that, “want you so bad- want you to be my daddy.”

˖ ࣪⭑

It didn’t take long for you to get his pants off, he even helped you unbuckle his belt, lifting his hips up so you could bring them down to his thighs— along with his boxers of course, the sight that sprung from the material leaving you dumb and gawking.

He was huge, both in length and thickness. The rumours really were true, Steve Harrington was absolutely well-endowed, the tip a pretty pink, beaded with pre-cum that just started to trickle along his shaft and into the ridges that ran along the length.

Steve chuckled at your wide eyes, knuckles smoothing against your cheek and chin, eyeing at your parted lips and his cock twitched again when he thought about pressing his thumb between them.

“You’re so big.” You managed to choke out, fingers tentatively wrapping around his base— thumb and fingers barely meeting in the middle from the sheer thickness of it.

You squeezed, hard, watching the way his tummy muscles clenched and his tip leaked.

“I know, sweet girl, but you’re gonna take it so well—” he hissed through clenched teeth at the way your fingers felt, “promise.”

You nodded up at him, already cock-drunk and dumb from his coos, pouting prettily while you felt him up, smearing his pearly pre-cum around, lubing him up real good before you got to work.

“Fuckin’ Christ—” he moaned, your puffy lips wrapped snugly around him after pressing a spongy kiss to his tip, suckling him slightly and lathering your tongue against the thick vein that ran upwards, before pulling off with a lewd pop.

The corners of your lips curled, fluttering your lashes and running your tongue from base to tip, kissing up his shaft and pressing the imprint of your lipstick into his flushed skin.

“Doesn’t that feel good, daddy?” You took him down your throat before he could answer, already touching the back and it wasn’t even all of him, earning a groan that rumbled the span of his chest.

“Y-yeah, honey, feels so good—” he cradled your head, fingers tangling in the strands of your hair, “such a daddy’s girl, hm?”

You hummed around his cock in response, thighs squeezing impossibly close from how turned on you were, arousal practically dripping through your underwear and slicking up the fat of your thighs.

“Yeah you are—” he grinned, pushing you down further, choking you entirely and causing you to gag around his hefty length. “Atta girl.”

It was messy, spit trickling down your chin, pooling along your tits and ruining your makeup— your mascara running down your cheeks in long, black lines and clumping up your sticky lashes.

You were crying, too— tears slipping over your brimming waterline, eyes all glassy and cute, swirly little sparkles floating around your irises whenever you looked up at him.

He looked so pretty, skin glistening with perspiration, a few buttons on his shirt undone and showing off the expanse of his handsome chest, the sight of the course dark hair had you drooling on his cock even more.

“So good to me,” he cooed, “all mine.”

You felt your eyes rolling back, clit pulsing furiously at the idea of being his and his only— you just wanted to be filled by him and bounce on his cock like a little bunny, let him fuck you nice and deep so you’d feel him for days.

“Say it, honey—” he pulled at your hair, cock falling from your lips, “say you’re mine.”

“M’all yours, daddy.” You preened, clutching at his thighs, leaving crescent moons in your wake, “only want you.”

“Fuck— come ‘ere,” he helped you stand up, lips curling upwards slightly when you stumbled on your feet, patting at his lap. “On my lap, there we go.”

You settled yourself, knees digging into the sides of the chair either side of him, hands already drawn to his chest and your palms smoothed over it, tugging at the hair there and thumbs grazing slightly over his nipples.

Steve’s big arms enveloped you, wrapping you up in a sort of hug, bringing your cheek down to smoosh against his chest, letting you nuzzle into him.

It was a strange sort of calm— a few minutes wrapped up, somewhat sated though still needy and pining for each other’s affection. It was nice.

You realised it was nice to feel like you were his.

“What do you need, honey?” He muttered, chin pressed against your head, hands trailing along your back and sometimes slipping to the plush of your ass.

“Wanna be yours,” your whine was muffled by the press of his fuzzy chest, “wanna make you feel good— all the time.”

His cock throbbed at the way you spoke, so crude and sweet, honeyed words travelling straight between his legs and causing him to drip.

He was in too deep and it was not good.

“Come on then, doll-” he cooed, smacking a kiss to your flushed cheek and patting at your ass to get your attention. “Show daddy.”

You nodded, fumbling with the buttons on your blouse, huffing out a breath of frustration before letting him take over, watching with bated breaths as is hands pushed your shirt to the floor, smoothing his palms along your tits and kneading at the covered mounds.

“So pretty, baby,” he pulled at the cups of your bra, letting the weight of your breasts spill over the underwire and the cute little bow that sat in between, showing off your nipples and the way they hardened completely from under his gaze. “Can’t believe you’ve been hidin’ these pretty girls from me.”

Both of Steve’s thumbs grazed over your nipples, bringing his forefingers to squeeze and pull at them, tugging them just to make you mewl and feel the wet spot underneath your skirt grow even larger. And you were putty in his hands, melting into his touch, inebriated from the way he spoke to you, touched you, looked at you.

God, he was handsome.

“Daddy—” you whined, clutching at his wrists and grinding against his cock.

“What is it, honey?” His face was so close to yours, eyes fixated on your pretty tits and he made a quick mental note to pay more attention to them later on.

“Wan’ you to fuck me.” So abrupt, pouting over-exaggerated and lashes fluttering— your pussy way too slick and aroused to have anything other than his cock inside, stretching you out and filling you so lovely.

“Such a greedy thing already-” he pulled you in closer, “barely sucked my cock and you’re just so needy, honey.”

“Can’t help it,” you leaned forward, nose against his, tracing the tip over his cheek and along the edge of his gold-rimmed glasses. “So handsome.”

Steve’s head was in a tizzy, twirling around all dumbified at how pliant you were, how sweet and doting— small praises like that were so big for him, making that blotchy raspberry blush creep and wrap around his neck, fluttering down his chest and even speckling the tips of his ears (the colour much akin to the rouge tip of his cock).

“Gimme a kiss, sweet girl.” Voice so smooth despite the stern undertone, gliding from his teeth to the tip of his tongue and bringing you even closer with a hand cupped around the nape of your neck, fiddling with the little, sensitive hairs that adorned the space.

You obeyed of course, completely eager if anything, practically bouncing at the chance to press your mouth to his. You had been waiting for it, so had he, the soft, spongy kisses— one, two, three, in a quick peckpeckpeck, before it turned deeper, mouths locking, feeling yourself sigh and relax against the firmness of his chest, allowing his to work you open as much as he desired.

The crude, slippery feeling of your tongues finally clashing had you reeling— licking into each other’s mouths and suckling on bottom lips, breath hitching in your throat and you resulted to pressing your palms against his cheeks as a way to ground you before you started floating away from his inebriating kiss.

“Want-” kiss. “Want me to take care of you—” kiss. “Don’t you, honey?”

Oh yes. God you wanted it so bad, you had ever since you laid eyes on him the first time you had met him— nervous and picking at your cuticles, standing shy as he opened his front door with that smile of his, full of charm and warmth— a little cocky at your shyness, though still stuck out a hand for you to shake. You distinctly remembered getting a little light-headed at the mere feeling of his big hand enveloping yours.

He chuckled when you nodded, eyes all dizzy and hooded and he sucked your tongue between his kiss-bitten lips.

“Pretty cunt is fuckin’ droolin’ f’me, baby,” he cupped at the heat between your thighs, your skirt bunched up around the fat of your waist and he thumbed at the pearl of your clit over the sopping fabric that covered you. “Does she want daddy’s cock? Bet she does, huh?”

Your eyes were rolling again, and you were surprised any part of you still functioned. You felt so dumb, so cock-drunk, and you wondered how on earth you would act with his fat cock stuffed deep inside you, jamming at your insides and fucking you until you couldn’t think, just feel.

“Please.” It was a simple utterance, barely there, fluttering your lashes while you said it to sway him, to quicken the pace and have him fill you, though the tears that slipped weren’t for show, brimming down your cheeks constantly from how overwhelmed you were feeling.

“Please, what? What d’you want?”

You pouted at him, nosing at his cheek, not budging until he brought a palm down against your ass, spanking it sharply and swiftly, knocking the air from your already weakened lungs.

“Come on, don’t get shy on me now,” he tugged at the waistband of your panties, pulling upwards until the crotch of them slipped between your folds, snug against your clit and making you mewl. “Tell me what you want and I’ll give it t’you.”

“W-want you to fill me up— wan’ your cock inside me, please-”

“Atta girl, wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You watched with widened eyes as he gripped at the base of his cock, and still, every time you stared at it, the size of him left you a little breathless, wondering whether he would even fit.

He tugged your underwear to the side, the pink cotton basically see-through and glistening, and he let out a breathy moan at his first glance at your bare pussy. So pretty, so ready for him— wet and slick, clit all engorged and peaking from the hood, begging for some stimulation and you made a similar sound when he tapped his tip against it, pushing it downwards against your hole, collecting your sweet arousal before repeating the action, over and over and over again.

“Don’t get all pouty, gotta make sure you’re ready f’me, honey.”

You wanted to scream at him, holler at the top of your lungs that you were ready— so fucking ready, but you couldn’t, not when his kids were upstairs asleep— you couldn’t afford for them to wake up, you didn’t want the attention to end.

And that was what it come to— selfishly, you wanted all the attention he had to give.

He looked at you, pressed a kiss to your forehead, the glasses that sat upon his bridge slightly askew and you leaned to fix them.

“You think you can take it, baby, or did you want my mouth for a bit?”

A good offer, but you shook your head still, you’d have that later if he was willing, and the mere idea of having him feast upon your pussy had you dripping on the velvety skin of his cock even more than before.

Steve made a humming noise in the back of his throat, before pulling at your thighs, tugging you closer to his chest and having you hover over the length of his cock, just waiting as patient as you could for him to sit you down onto him.

“Be a good girl now— gotta relax f’me.” His hand on your hip helped you sink, the other still wrapped around the base, feeding it slowly into your greedy pussy, watching with a heaving chest at the way your cunt sucked him in, but he could feel the stretch of your walls around him.

“Waitwaitwait—” you gasped out a breath you had been holding, “just need a minute.”

You felt so full, stretched completely, a little less than half of his cock sat inside you and it was still bigger than any you had taken before.

He coddled you, shushing you and pushing a hand up to smooth over your hair.

“Take your time, honey—” he hummed, smacking a wet kiss to the corner of your mouth, “I know it’s a lot to take.”

“You’re huge.” He chuckled at that, though he couldn’t fight the little hitch in his breath when your walls clenched around him, trying hard to adjust.

“I know, I know, but you’re already takin’ it so well.”

The praise had you drip further, the see-through lines of arousal slipping over the rivets on his cock, creating an obscene squelching sound when you lowered yourself a little further.

Just over half now, splitting you open, practically in your guts, you thought at least, and you were sure if you pressed hard enough on the plush of your stomach you would probably feel him there.

“There you go-” he was still cooing at you and you gave him your biggest heart eyes, pout permanently etched onto your lips, and he hoped it wasn’t going anywhere soon. “shit, y’don’t even need any help, takin’ it like a fucking’ champ.”

Almost there, almost all of him was nestled snug inside your cunt, so in a swift movement, you sunk down entirely, a rather less-than-quiet moan simmering from your lips and if it was just the two of you in the house, he would’ve basked in your loudness and pretty whines, but it wasn’t— and the two of you really needed to be quiet.

He pressed a palm over your mouth to stifle your sounds, your lips kissing the divots on the front of his hand, so warm and large, big enough it covered your whole chin and your lashes fluttered at the feeling.

And you started to move, still worked up, and a little sore, but were you really to blame? His cock was massive, stretching and filling places where you didn’t know anyone could reach, and once you started easing yourself up, right to the tip, you sank back down again, a little harsher than the first, whining into his callused skin whilst your eyes rolled back.

With each slow downward thrust of your hips, you could feel the course, dark thatch of hair that trailed from his stomach all the way down to the base of his cock. It was tickling against your clit, much akin to the hair that littered the thickness of those strong thighs of his, rubbing against your ass so deliciously. And his balls, shit— so big, so fucking heavy, full of his cum, the Harrington prodigy stored up inside of them and you throbbed and twitched at the thought of carrying his babies.

Fuck, you were totally down bad.

“What’re you thinkin’ about, honey?” It was almost as if he knew, a smirk heavy and crooked on his lips, his flashy Rolex glistening upon his wrist in the dim light of the lamp while he guided you up and down, up and down, nice and steady, but so, so deep.

You shied away, gaze flitting to the ceiling, and you would’ve stayed like that, waiting for him to drop it, until his palm— once again— came down on your ass in a smack, much heavier than before, much more painful than before, but the sting of it bloomed in your core and had more blood rushing to your clit.

“Come on— when I ask you somethin’ I expect an answer.” He was stern and sharp, though the smirk never left, plucking at the corner of his mouth and mocking you so delectably.

“M’sorry, daddy—” you crooned, hands sliding from his shoulders to the thick muscle of his biceps, the designer fabric of his shirt smooth under your palms. “Was thinking about your cum—”

Your whine was breathy, but you made sure to quiet down, his hips now moving in time with yours, knowing you could take him fully now, though just barely.

“Yeah, you thinkin’ about getting filled? Having all of this cum inside your pretty tummy, huh?” You were glad he had said it for you, far too embarrassed, and way too fucked out to string that sentence together, and the words, when they came from his mouth, sounded much better, you thought. “Want my babies, don’t you, hon?”

You were babbling nonsensical nothings, a sweet concoction of ‘oh yes daddydaddy, please’ fluttering from your puffy lips— nodding at him and clutching at him, his arms, his chest, anywhere you could find, until you settled on his hands, resting your own over his, while they pressed into your hips, guiding you faster now.

It had taken you a little while, but once you were comfortable, you had started to bounce like a little bunny in season, fucking down onto his thick cock, feeling the cut tip of his nudge at your g-spot, the ridges and veins that ran along the shaft so present and eager against your walls— you felt everything, so full, so sated, actually, scratch that, you weren’t sated, not until his cum was deep inside you, not a drop wasted.

“Who would’a thought you’d be bouncin’ on my cock tonight, sweetheart- shit—” sweat was shimmering on his skin, his stomach muscles clenching, not wanting to cum too soon. “So glad it’s you, sweet girl— my girl.”

You nodded, breathless.

“M’your girl, daddy. All f’you.”

Steve was close, closer once you uttered those words, sucking breaths in and bringing you closer, forehead pressed against yours, the sound of the squelchy slapslapslap filling the stuffy room.

“That’s right, that’s right— Christ, m’so close, daddy’s so fuckin’ close.”

And you were too, embarrassingly so, and you made it apparent with your whines, pressing your kisses into his skin, the pace between you growing sloppy, though somehow harder.

“Am too,” you babbled, “can we cum together?”

So sweet, so fucking sweet you were, eyes all big and wet and glistening so prettily, and he thought he would bust at merely gazing at you, but he nodded, his own irises moulding into hearts, quite similar to yours, beating out of his skull like an old Tom and Jerry cartoon.

“Yeah, honey,” he said, “yeah, we can cum together, such a good girl.”

The rope was growing taut, deep in your belly, just begging to snap any time soon, all you were waiting for was one word, one single word to have you unraveling above him—

“Cum,” that was it. “Cum f’me— shit, so good—”

Stars and sparkles all flurried your vision, clouding around Steve and highlighting the way he looked when he came, mouth agape, wanting so badly to close his eyes, but he couldn’t, not when you looked the way you did.

You were a mess, convulsing against his chest, creaming his cock, clenching and twitching around him while you milked him of his sticky cum.

Steve’s lips were on yours in an instant, tongue and lips, sloppy and wet, spit trickling down your chins at the lazy kiss, but too fucked out to care.

And for a while you stayed there, on his lap, slowly kissing while he cradled your head and muttered pretty praises into your ear, though you couldn’t shake a certain thought that swam through the haze that was your brain.

What the fuck happens now?

✰

tagging <3—

@ghostlyfleur @hornyhornyhimbos @crowssixof @lavendermunson @esquivelbianca @ratzztar @justpeachy46 @jackchampionsbbg @hazzaismyreligion @harrington-lover @spikedhe4rt @gabessock

(some blogs i wasn’t able to tag, sorry about that <33)

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #older!steve harrington x reader #dilf!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington daddy kink #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic

[eddieshellfxre]

Sugar Me

Eddie Munson x Fem! reader

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Eddie is your best friend and you tell him your into choking

content: 18+ unprotected PIV sex, masturbation, creampie, choking, swearing, smut, slut calling

a/n ive had this idea for a while, for some reason best friend Eddie always gets in a special way. I hope yall like it.

reblog and like if you do ♡

masterlist

In your room Eddie is helping you clean up for the first time in his life. He doesnt really know what hes doing, hes just gathering clothes and putting near your laundry basket

“you do realise you can open the basket and chuck the clothes inside right?” you ask placing your hands on your hips raising a brow “ugh” you sigh “just go sit down ill do it” you say as you command him to sit on a chair at your desk and he was more than happy to do so. He was your best friend but that boy cant do anything to save his life

You feel his gaze watching you bend over and picking up all the clothes he left on the floor. You pick a armful of it and chuck in the basket, letting a pair of panties fall out of your arms, Eddie quickly stands up and grabs it and hands it over to you hanging by his pointer finger

“you left these out” he says with a smirk on his face. You feel heat radiate from your cheeks and it makes Eddie laugh “ohhhh cmon dont go shy on me just because i picked up your … dirty underwear” he says while looking at you up and down the entire time, his breathing becomes shaky at his last words and his lips turn into a cocky smile, he turns his back and makes his way to the chair he previously was sat on.

You sit on the edge of your bed, tired from cleaning your room and high out of your mind because youve been smoking with eddie the entire time and talking about random things until the conversation gets kinda heated with you talking about various kinks, its not something out of the ordinary with you guys, it happened very frequent because you were so comfortable with each other

“but have you ever been choked? how do you know you like it so much?” he questions you “ive seen the guys you dated and NONE of them seem like the bdsm type”

“i know i like it because ive done it myself you idiot” Eddie raises an eyebrow in interest, forming a smile he reajusts himself on the chair

“wait so youre telling me…. you’ve choked yourself? like… when you—“

“Gosh Eddie, ive choked myself while getting off. if no one will do it for me might as well do it myself” you scoff placing the blunt between your lips. Eddie looks at you surprised to see this side of you, he thought he knew everything about you but this took him by surprise “dont look at me like that Eddie, i bet you have kinks of your own that would make me squirm”

“oh this didnt make me squirm baby, it made me curious as fuck” he says taking the blunt away from you. its a love hate feeling when he calls you baby, its not often but he does it so out of the blue it takes you by surprise each time

you notice how he cant keep still, like something is bothering him during the conversation

“is everything alright Ed? you seem like you wanna say something but wont” you question as you dangle your legs at the end of the bed while you rest yourself on your arms, making your shirt rise up just enough to show your lower belly. Eddie keeps almost eye fucking you the whole time always moving in his chair. You notice he has never looked at you like this way, you cant help but feel nervous at this

“cmon i know you wanna ask me something just do it already, it cant be worst than me telling you i choke myself when i get off” you laugh

“wha-what do you think about when you touch yourself” his eyes pierce you to the bed and you feel like you cant move.

“it depends” you say rubbing your legs against each other

you wanted to just tell him hes what you think about late at night alone in your room. he cant keep his eyes off you as you make small sensual moves on the bed bitting your lip while looking at him, you do it on purpose, you wanna see what kind of reaction you could get off him. you notice he has a tight hold on his crotch and lightbulb lights up in your head making you jump of the bed walking over to the chair that hes sitting on, resting your hands on his thighs you come closer to his ear and whisper “i like thinking about you Eddie” you take his earlobe between your teeth and tug at it slightly, hips buck in his seat and his knuckles turn white from how hard hes gripping onto the arm rest of the chair, you let out a laugh and stand up in front of him. one hand still holding onto his crotch you feel his other hand trail up your thigh stopping at your ass

“how about you show me exactly what it is that you do when you think about me” he squeezes your ass tight in his palm.

Eddie stands up, youre now facing each other with very little space between you, you feel his hands grabbing at your waist pulling you in closer, so close you feel his raging boner inside his jeans, just the feeling of his bulge is enough to make you feel like youre already dripping. You grab him by the colar of his Hellfire shirt and pull him towards the bed. The back of your legs touch the end of your bed and you climb on laying down, spreading your legs open.

Eddie understands what your doing and tried to follow you onto the bed, you stop him placing a foot on his chest

“uh uh! you said show you” you tusk keeping him at a distance. he looks at you in dispair, he wants to touch you and make you feel good.

You spread your legs open placing your hand down your shorts and panties, you moan at your touch as you rub small circles around your clit. “hmmmmm, feels so good” you throw your head back in pleasure as you slide your fingers through your slit gathering your wetness. You notice how Eddie is looking at you, in need to touch you.

You slowly remove your shorts and your panties with it, leaving Eddie front and center to your private show

“fuckkkk— youre killing me y/n” he falls onto his knees in front of you.

You resume your hand’s position at your slit unserting your middle and ring finger inside you and pulling it out rubbing at your bud “Ohhh Eddie” you moan “it feels so good baby” your words feel like fire to him, you look him in the eye as your insert your fingers in and out of you again and again never breaking your eye contact. You bring your other hand up to your throat starting squeezing it but you feel Eddie’s hand on top of yours

“let me take over, please i beg you baby! i cant take it anymore” Eddie hovers over you, removing your hand from your hole, you groan at the empty feeling “shhh baby, let me take care of you” you feel Eddie’s lips on your neck, slowly making a trail of kisses down to your belly looking up at you the whole way down.

Hes so sexy, the way his hand is placed at your chest caressing your left tit playing with your nipple between his fingers. Placing wet kisses on your inner thigh coming closer to your heat, making you grind your hips against the bed.

Eddie slowly teases you by blowing air into your pussy, making you shiver and groan at the same time

“quit teasing me Eds, and fuck me already”

“easy there baby, ive waited long enough to see you like this, i wanna take my fucking time on you” he says sliding a finger up and down your slit, he smirks and he watches you arch your back in pleasure and eager to feel him inside you.

The sudden touch of his tongue at your clit sends a shock through your body making you moan loudly grabbing at his hair and tugging it ever so slightly.

“fuuuuck Eddie, you’re so good at this” you manage to let out almost at a whisper

“and youre fucking hot, you know that?” he questions you as he inserts two fingers in you, continuing to play with your clit with his tongue.

Everytime his tongue touches the right spot his fingers curl up inside you making you clench around him.

“oohhhh you like that dont you?” you nod and keep pulling at his hair grinding your hips close to his face “imma need words baby” he laughs as he continues to tease you

“yes Eddie, oh god yes! dont stop i-im almost there” you whimper almost reaching your orgasm. Eddie continues to play with your clit sucking on it until finally you clench around his fingers one last time. Eddie removes his fingers from inside you bringing them to his mouth sucking them clean

“you.taste.soooooo.good” he pauses in between words as he sucks your fluids off him. You pull him up by his shirt up to your face kissing him, alowing yourself to taste you on him.

“let me make it up to you” you whisper as you try to lay him down on his back

“no no baby” he stops you “i wanna cum in you and if you wrap that pretty little mouth around my cock i wont last” he laughs kissing your neck. he unbuttons his jeans pulling them down far enough to let his dick spring free. You gasp at the size grabbing it with your hand giving it a few strokes and lining it up with your entrance. He replaces your hand with his, teasing your hole with his head, you squirm under him begging for him to go in you.

“Edddieeee” you cry

“Eddiiieeeee please fuck me!! Oh Eddie you’re soo good” he mocks you continuing to tease you

“never said you were good big boy! dont put words in my mou-“ he cuts you off by slamming his cock inside you, you let out a load moan making his head fall in your neck, his heavy breathing on you turn you on even more. He finds a steady pace perfect to please both you and him

“i-i Eddie” you cry, wanting to form a sentence but hes hitting it way too good for you to form one “fuck!! choke me!” Your words make him slam harder into you as you feel his hand at your throat squeezing it.

He’s scared to hurt you but hes hungry for you at the same time

“you take me so well baby. you like it when daddy chokes you? uh? you like being treated like a little slut dont you? fuck, you and your tight little pussy are so good” he continues to have a grip at your throat and you start to close your eyes in pleasure, you never want this feeling to end. “i need you to look at me baby, i wanna see your face when you cum”

You feel a preassure on your lower belly starting to form and feel yourself clenching around his cock

“fuck do that again” he begs and you do as so! You slide your hand down to your clit rubbing it in circles as he continues to go in and out of you “fuck baby— keep going we’re almost there” you rub yourself looking for your orgasm reaching it quickly after, same with Eddie once he feels you coming on his dick. He slows down his pace slowly removing himself off you. He sits infront of you watching his cum drip off your pussy, a sight he now claimed to be his favorite in the world.

“you look so beautiful right now y/n” He says reaching with two fingers at your entrance collecting the mixure of both of you and bringing up to your mouth “open up that pretty mouth of yours” he closes his eyes in pleasure as you take his fingers in your mouth sucking the cum of them “fuck youre good” he says under his breath shaking his head.

He lays down next to you, coming down from his high, noticing the handprint he has left on your throat, making him worried he hurt you he asks if youre alright

“alright? that was the best sex i ever had in my life Eddie. Finally someone with a firm hand” you laugh touching your neck “it has your handprint on it doesnt it?” you ask proudly. Eddie nods in confusion at your exicitement

“i didnt mean to leave a mark y/n sorry”

“oh please im glad you did! fuck i hope it stays there for weeks”

Your words take Eddie by surprise, he pulls you in by your waist cupping your face and bringing it closer to his

“youre fucking perfect for me” he says kissing you softly breaking away right after to ask you “you ready for round two?”

#eddie munson #stranger things eddie munson #joseph quinn #eddie munson fanfic #eddiemunson #eddiestrangerthings #stranger things #st4 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #reader x eddie munson #eddie munson kink

[mimixmunson]

eddie munson piss kink 🤭 it’s perfectly fine if you’re not comfortable with it!! love u - anon

Eddie Munson has a piss kink. Eddie Munson x reader. Smut. Blurb.

Hope you enjoy anon, love you too!

🍒 “Please Eds” you begged in a desperate tone, your eyes shut tightly as you struggled to not let go of your bladder. He knew making you drink 3 bottles of water would make you so pathetically submissive for him. Eddie had complete control of your bladder, he enjoyed the desperation, the way it made you feel so uncomfortable that you’d beg so quickly, but most of all, he enjoyed the eventual release. The moment when he finally gave you mercy and allowed you to relieve your bladder. You were stood in the shower; he’d turned the water on to add to your neediness. The sound of the water hitting the shower floor nearly tipped you over the edge the moment he’d turned on the shower head. You were desperate to piss. Eddie knew that he smirked as he watched over you, one hand wrapped around his cock pleasuring himself as you squirmed constantly writhing in your place.

“What’s the problem sweet girl?” He teased, his hand reaching out to caress your tear-stained cheek. “You need to pee, don’t you? Oh, darling we’re going to need to get you some diapers, aren’t we? You have no control of that little bladder, do you?” His words were vicious but his hand pressing down onto your stomach was worse. Your task was simple, don’t piss yourself until you had permission. But his palm pressing onto your bladder was inducing it, he was right, you did have no control no matter how hard you tried. You knew that if you disobeyed Eddie’s orders, he really would buy adult diapers just to humiliate you more, it was all a part of his sadistic little kink game. Watching you doing the ‘desperate to pee’ dance, his cock was leaking with pre-cum. The pearlescent bead falling from his perfectly pink tip and dangling from his hard on.

He dropped to his knees, his hands steadying himself onto your hips with a tight grip. “You can pee, but not before I make you cum.” He grunted, his voice hoarse and firm. With those words, his tongue found your clit. He swirled the tip of his tongue in circles around your sensitive bud, spelling his name repeatedly. Your body didn’t know how to react, you’d never been so desperate to urinate and cum at the same time. You didn’t know what feeling to prioritise. Eddie’s hand travelled back to your lower stomach, massaging over your bladder once more as your orgasm grew closer, pleasure washing over you like a tidal wave.

“Eddie..please. Can’t take it.” You spoke in nothing but a whisper, in fear that if you spoke louder, your body would take over in need. His teeth scraped over your clit so gently as he sucked over it, it was all too much. “Please.” You begged. “Please what? Do you want permission to cum or to piss yourself? Silly girl, you need to be more specific.” He teased, his big brown eyes looking up at you through your mound of public hair that was drenched by now.

“Both. Please. Eds please.” Whining, you pulled at his curls, pushing his face deeper into your cunt as he licked around your hole, his nose rubbing against your overstimulated clit. He licked stripes from your hole, up to your clit and back down again and took your clit into his mouth again. Still holding eye contact he smirks, “Go on angel, you have permission.” In an instant, the familiar knot in your stomach came undone. Your orgasm taking over your body for a few seconds before Eddie pushed down on your bladder once more and you let go.

The liquid came streaming out as you moaned in ecstasy, unsure if your groans were from your overwhelming orgasm or the relief. Finally, being able to piss felt incredible, but nobody was happier about it than Eddie. His face still nestled into your pussy, still working his tongue over your clit but now tasting your cum and piss. It was truly filthy, the way he was rutting his hips into your leg as he drank up your warm liquid, savouring the taste he craved so much. Eddie’s grip on your hip was sure to leave bruises, as your piss soaked his face he began to cum too. No stimulation needed, he orgasmed, hard. Warm ropes of cum spurted out of his cock, he smiled looking up at you. The money pieces of his hair were dripping, soaked from your mess. He licks his lips, not wasting a single drop.

“Fuck baby. Thank you.” Eddie beams as you pet his hair, helping him get up onto his feet. Pulling him into a hug, as the warm water from the shower blessed the both of you. A few kisses later and you finally spoke, “Let's get clean now huh? That got a bit messy, doing this in the shower was the right idea Eds.” He laughs, flicking his wet hair back like a dog that’s just run into the sea. “Right?” Eddie wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer and then in front of him. Grabbing the bottle of body wash and lathering the both of you up, playfully groping your breasts as he washes you.

“Did so well princess” he says as he scrubs the soapy loofah over your thighs, taking extra special care when washing in between them. “You did better babe, drank me all up.” You responded with a smile. Your sex life was many things, but it was never boring. 🍒

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[wroteclassicaly]

Kink hour got me thinking about Steddie's breeding kink, where they fight over who's gonna breed reader. But that's just me...

Ooooooh, shit! Why you gotta get me started? 😝 I’ve thought about this… like, so much.

Warnings: Language, NSFW, smut, breeding kink, vaginal fingering.

~*~

“I mean, c’mon… Seriously, Y/N. Whose hair would look better on him? Harrington’s or mine? S’ a pretty simple answer if you ask me.”

“She didn’t, dumbass.”

“Oooh, King Steve, you know I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

Your eyes roll into the back of your head, and not because of Eddie’s thick digits knuckle deep in your sopping wet cunt. You grip the headboard for leverage and close your legs around his wrist, an exasperated sigh escaping your swollen lips. “For one, we don’t know if the baby would be a boy. And two, his hair wouldn’t look like either of yours unless he used a plethora of women’s hair care products.”

Eddie snickers and you swat at his wrist, your nail getting caught underneath the chain bracelet. “I wasn’t just talking about him, smart mouth.”

It’s Steve who grins that half smile that makes you want to take him until your throat is raw and your neck is bruised from his squeezing. He likes to do that when he’s fucking your throat, balls slapping at your chin, tendons straining in your neck as you attempt to take him, spit all over the floor in an accumulated puddle. He removes Eddie’s finger and before you can protest (as if you would, really…), he’s easily gaining access in your hole. You watch him with a slack jaw as he adjusts his hard cock in the gray sweats he’s wearing. “Good girl, honey. You’re really wet tonight. You like thinkin’ about me filling you up with my baby?”

“Um… Excuse me, I was—“ Eddie’s interruption is cut off.

“Shit, man. Her pussy just sucked my finger in deeper. She does like that.”

Eddie is pouting, wiggling his way between your thighs, ringed hand clasping over your knee to spread you wider, his finger trailing along your slick covered thighs, parting your labia, before it pushes in beside Steve’s. You can’t do anything but moan wantonly, saliva smearing across your mouth, tongue flicking across to attempt to gather it. You arch your ass in their direction, palms both flat against you. You’re greedy this evening.

“You know what I think, Steve?” Eddie bats those pretty little lashes beneath a curtain of curls, Steve pushing them back to see his boyfriend’s flushed features.

“What’s that, hot rod?”

Eddie, as if he’s got this secret that’s capturing him into a fit of giggles, leans in towards Steve. “I think we should pump our girl so full of cum that it soaks the bed. And when she recovers, we go again, see who’s swimmers win first.”

You gasp and shiver, all of you groaning in raspy unison. You felt yourself grow slicker, their fingers getting smashed together in your sticky walls. Like a prize where everyone wins, and you get to be the competition board. They don’t have to ask if you approve, and you know you’re gonna be so sore tomorrow, but you can’t fucking wait.

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