Highest Bidder
Description: When you get Eddie to agree to be on auction for the Valentine’s Ball, you don't count on jealousy affecting you this much. To be fair, you didn’t think Chrissy Cunningham would be there. But maybe, just maybe, he likes you just as much as you like him?
Warnings: Angst, fluff and smut, my favourite horsemen. NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll shoot you with arrows and not the cupid kind. Slight older, 25 ish Eddie Munson x 23 ish fem reader, confessions, BFFs to lovers, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (dress before you impress irl)
A/N: So this was meant for Valentines but I decided to catch Covid instead. Inspired by the auction scene in Groundhog Day. I loved writing this, hopefully you get the desperate pining feeling that I was trying to give off. I love all of you, not only on Valentines but every day.
Comments and reblogs keep this little paper heart from bursting Into flames. Please, comment and reblog, it makes me so happy you don't even know.
7k words
Masterlist
“So sweetheart,” Eddie begins, a sly smile creeping over his face as he steeples his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees, “are you gonna tell me why you did it?” He's sitting across from you in his armchair, like this is some sort of bizarre job interview.
The surroundings are familiar. Eddie's second hand couch, the worn fabric soft under your thighs. The coffee table you helped drag up four flights of stairs, adorned with a coaster placed entirely for your benefit, of course. It's not like Eddie cares about water rings. The comforting smell of the fabric softener Eddie uses intermingled with cigarettes, and incense to cover the smoky aroma. That, and Eddie's aftershave; faint after a night in proximity of it, but there all the same.
The situation is not familiar. The wayward glances, the lingering touches, the tension filling the air so thick it's like trying to move through cake batter. Wading through some dense, sweet, all consuming feeling that sticks to your ribs and pulls you into its gravity.
Torn between looking at him and shyly stirring your drink with its straw, you think about it. Why did you? The answer wasn't simple. It never was, with Eddie.
It all started with the Valentines Charity Ball your mom roped you into helping to organise. She was a force to be reckoned with, your mom. The human equivalent of a wrecking ball. When she got involved with any good cause, no one and nothing could stop her. Including you.
So, when she ran to you in desperation last night, you didn't hesitate. One of the guys for the date auction had taken ill and she was stuck for a fourth. So, the first name you could think of spilled out of your mouth. It took some convincing. No, he's not just some freak. Yes, he's doing well for himself. Yes, he's got a steady job, an apartment. No, he doesn't deal anymore. Yes, he's good looking, obviously. No, we aren't a thing, we were never a thing.
You were never a thing. It was much more complex than that. Affairs of the heart always were. When you'd met Eddie at school you were quiet. A loser, living on the fringes of obscurity; not popular, but not strange enough to be bullied. Eddie was safe. A shield. You'd entered Hellfire without a second thought. And sure, he was handsome, ridiculously so. But at the time, he was seeing some twig called Stacey or Samantha or something, and you bit down on your attraction. Hid it deep within the tissue of your heart. Swallowed it whole. Then, you'd dated Thomas, and after that, he had seen Wendy, and then it was circumstantial. At no point had the pair of you been single together until recently, so it clearly wasn't meant to be. Whatever attraction you'd been harbouring was mellowed, dissolved and disintegrated in yourself. After that, he was just Eddie.
Convincing Eddie to do the auction had been an entirely different story. It wasn't nerves. He had stood on tables in the cafeteria to speak his mind, after all. He had conveyed his innermost thoughts to almost any who would listen, like some wayward preacher at a bizarre sermon. It could never be nerves, not with him. It was always the fear of not being enough. The fear of himself. After many words of encouragement, he'd agreed. If only to shut you up, but it worked.
What you hadn't accounted for was the sight of Eddie climbing out of his beat up van in a goddamn button up shirt and fucking dress shoes. In jeans that weren't ripped, with wild hair scooped back into a low bun. You hadn't counted on the easy smile you'd seen a thousand times now winding into your stomach and sending raven wing beats into your heart. In the soft wink that loosed a thousand moths within your core. Moths, they say, live at most, a day, but these seem ancient compared. Alive in an enclosure you had created years ago, set loose suddenly and all at once, their once fixated caretaker ignoring his responsibilities.
“Hey sweetheart, am I late?”
When had his voice gained that huskiness, that depth? When had looking into his chocolate brown eyes melted your insides? A twinge in your back brought on by the stress of the night took you back to the here and now. Gazing back at him whilst you attempted to rub it away, you replied.
“N-no, not at all. You, you look really good, Eddie.”
He scoffed aloud, shaking his head in disbelief, a cascade of loose curls flowing around his face.
“That's a load of crap. You, hey, you look amazing. Seriously, smoking hot.”
Your head span with the compliment, as you looked down at your own outfit. It was a ball after all, and for once your mom had insisted on a dress. It was a deep red, cheap satin, low cut, a tasteful hem at the knee, with a slit up the side providing at least a little mobility, and kitten heels. Currently, you felt like an outsider looking into a different world through plexiglass, but the way Eddie looked at you made you feel like you belonged.
‘It's nothing, just a dress.”
“Hey,” he replied, crowding your space with the confidence he embodies, “you look incredible. Trust me.”
His knuckles dragged across your flushed cheek, and for a moment all sense of who you were and why this was happening was lost to the feel of his skin on yours. But only for a moment. Dipping your eyes down, you took a tiny step back.
“We should head inside Eddie. You ready?”
After a couple of hours of cheesy music and weak as fuck punch, you tapped your fingers on your plastic cup and turned down the latest pensioner who thought you were here for his amusement. Until finally, the host tapped the microphone and asked everyone to gather at the front for the main event. You made your way to the side of the stage in case you were needed, and waited for the bidding to start.
“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the highlight of the night. For one night only, Hawkins’s most eligible bachelors will be yours, to an extent. Be prepared to be wined, dined, and entertained, by our finest gentlemen, all in the name of charity, of course. And first up, is our very own George Heights! Give it up for George everyone!”
The crowd clapped as George walked onto the stage, an early balding man with just the hint of a pot belly poking through his chequered blue shirt.
“George is an artist, and an aspiring architect, with a penchant for poetry and an insatiable appetite. Give it up for George, everybody!”
After a lukewarm auction, which ended with George being bought for 65 bucks, the next one was sold. And the next one. Pretty soon, it was Eddie's turn. He stepped forward, and whispers began to float around you. You expected that, to some extent, but there were woops, and even a wolf whistle too. Ever the showman, he bent into a low bow, straightened back up, and winked at the audience.
“And last, but not least, we have a handsome young man up for your bidding pleasure. Put your hands together for Eddie!”
As he did a turn on the spot, hands outstretched, the rouse of applause went on for longer than you thought it would. Enthusiastic hands clapped for your man.
No. Your friend. Just a friend.
“That's it, that's what we're looking for! Eddie is a mechanic, and a talented guitarist, who is looking for your company tonight! So, starting bid, can I hear twenty dollars?”
“Here! Twenty dollars!” An old lady waved her programme enthusiastically in the air. Eddie's eyes rolled and caught yours momentarily, and you flashed a smile at him.
“There we go, twenty! Can we go to twenty five?”
“Thirty!” an equally old lady shouted, earning you yet another look from him that made you laugh.
“Fifty dollars!”
The crowd went silent as a man in the back shot his hand in the air.
“Woah, a high bidder! Anyone want to beat fifty?”
Before the crowd had a chance to recuperate a young and extremely pretty woman's hand shot upward.
“One hundred dollars!”
Everyone fell silent. The only thing not getting the message was your heartbeat. The beautifully manicured and delicate hand belonged to none other than Chrissy fucking Cunningham.
She looked more beautiful than ever. Hawkins’s sweetheart, all grown up. The popular girl, the pretty girl. Prettier than you, at least to your mind. Prom queen, beauty pageant winner, and the icing on the cake? Actually a nice person. No one could hate her, it would be like kicking a kitten.
But as your heart dropped like a lead weight into your chest, you thought you wouldn't mind seeing a bit of fur flying across the room, guided by your heels.
You saw it, you couldn't fail to. The sudden way Eddie stood a little straighter, chest puffed up a little more, as a slow smirk crawled over his face.
“One hundred? Wowee! Thank you young lady! Anyone for one twenty?”
The man at the back called out, “right here!”
Chrissy giggled, small hand held up covering the cute noise, and made another bid.
“One thirty!”
It seemed like the entirety of your body's blood had rushed to your head. You felt dizzy and sick, watching this happen, like some slow motion car crash. Again, your damned back hurt. you rubbed it in vain, and gazed back at the ruin in front of you.
“One fifty!” The man at the back bellowed. Eddie's eyes widened, and he put his hands together, as if in prayer. His gaze was begging, pleading, and directed at Chrissy.
The frozen spell you seemed to have been under lifted suddenly. This was not going to happen, you wouldn't let it. Chrissy had everything she could possibly need, she didn't need more. She couldn't have him.
He's yours.
Through watery eyes, you fiercely trawled through your purse, and came across the little envelope you tucked in there earlier. The money you had scraped together to go towards buying a car. You'd almost forgotten it, intending to drop it home before you came here.
It looked like you'd have to be a pedestrian for a while longer.
At the same time Chrissy placed delicate fingers in the air, your whole arm shot up, purse clutched in hand.
“Two hundred and fifty two dollars and thirty nine cents!”
Gasps and grunts from the crowd echoed throughout the hall as everyone turned to face you. Even Eddie's jaw hit the floor. It took a moment for it to register, but when it did people were cheering.
“Well, I think that wraps it up folks! The highest bid of the night, sold to the very eager young lady in red right over here! What a great donation!”
He continued talking, wrapping up the show, and signalled for the music to start once again. Blood was hammering in your ears, making you almost oblivious to everyone around you. All you could focus on in your tunnel vision was Eddie as he walked to the edge of the stage, climbed off in a smooth hop, and started sauntering toward you.
“You know, if you wanted me that badly you could have just asked, sweetheart.” He said, as he flashed you a smug grin.
“Hey, I was just saving you from that guy over there, pretty sure he wanted more than a date.” Your words came out calmer than you thought you were capable of as you clenched a fist at your side to hide your shakes.
“Oh, really?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, “That's what you were saving me from, huh?”
He knew it was a lie. You knew it was a lie. You're pretty sure the entire hall knew it was a lie.
“Of course, don't want some old geezer putting his hands all over you. Not a fun Valentines. Plus, I own you now. You've gotta do what I say.”
Your hands dropped to your hips, holding them as you smiled at him.
“Kinky,” he replied, stepping closer, making you falter in your confident stance as you’re forced to look up at him, “so, what are your orders, princess?”
“Can you, get me a drink. A proper drink, from the bar? Please?”
Taking your hand in both of his, he brought it up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it that turned your insides upside down.
“Easy. Your wish is my command. Jack and Coke, right?”
Gormlessly nodding, all you managed to say was a stunted “uh huh.”
He flashed that grin again, and bounced off with more of a spring in his step than usual.
You turned on your heel, begging yourself to get your head together, and busied yourself with gathering the donations for the auction, including your hefty one, and passed the cash to your mom to be locked away. When you approached, she opened her mouth but you wildly waved a finger at her.
“I know, I don't want to hear it. Not right now.”
She smiled, and just said, “pretty sure you could have got that date for free.”
Rolling your eyes and simultaneously rubbing your back, you passed over the cash and turned quickly, nearly slamming into someone.
“Easy princess, I know you bought me but I won't stand for full on tackling.”
He was holding your drink high, arms up to protect it.
“Sorry Eds, just escaping from-”
You looked over your shoulder, but your mom had disappeared.
“-nevermind. Thank you.”
As you grabbed your drink you took a generous gulp in a vain attempt to steady your nerves.
“So, now you have me, what are you gonna do to me?”
As he guided a wolfish grin to you, you simply rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that several unsavoury thoughts were swimming through your mind.
“What if I told you to hop on one leg and bark like a dog, huh?” You replied, sending a grin right back.
“Oh you don't think I would? Don't test me princess.”
You simply folded your arms and cocked your head, daring him with a look. Eddie nodded, and started fucking bouncing on one leg.
“Woof! Woo-”
“OK OK stop you weirdo!” Gasping a laugh, you grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and dragged him away from the curious stares of those around you.
As the song changed to a slow ballad, Eddie whipped the drink from your hand despite your protests and placed it on a nearby table.
“What are you doing?”
Grasping your hand he escorted you to the middle of the dance floor and suddenly pulled you so close that the air expelled from your lungs. There was no air, just music, and feeling, and Eddie.
“I'm dancing with you. Isn't this what you do on dates?”
As he held your hips, thumbs rubbing into your sides, your mind cleared. Like a bubble of smoke had popped. This felt good. This felt right. You circled his neck within your arms and relaxed for the first time that evening.
“This isn't a date, Eds.”
Your words held some spite, but it was belied by the smirk tugging at your cheeks.
“You are right. This isn't a date. If it was, well, we wouldn't be surrounded by geriatrics.” he nodded at the crowd around you, eliciting a high pitched giggle from your chest.
As you swayed in step with him, gazing into his chocolate eyes, the smirk only grew, fuelled by the mischief in his eyes.
“So, if this was a date, what would we be doing instead?”
A part of you wants to feel bashful and turn away, but the spell his eyes have you under is in control. No force on earth could tear your gaze asunder. The couples around you could burst into flames and be chalked up to little more than background noise.
“Well, first, I would have picked you up at your house, bought you some flowers too,” he said as he brought his hand to yours, holding it and pushing you into his frame even more, so you strained your neck up to him. His breath fanned delicately against your ear as he continued his explanation.
“Probably took you to a fancy restaurant, with fabric napkins,” he said, making you giggle at his understanding of ‘fancy’, “would have paid too. Maybe had some wine. Shared a dessert.”
“Yeah?” You nearly whisper it, words falling into the exposed skin of his neck.
“Yeah. Then, I would have taken you back to my place, offered you a cup of coffee,” suddenly he spun you, pressing his lithe front to your waiting back, his fingers scooping the hair from your neck sending comet trails of sensation down your spine. He continued, words making your head dizzy, “Then, I would kiss you, properly. Like you deserve to be kissed.”
As he spun you back to face him, you held his gaze for a moment, seeing every ounce of honesty etched into those big brown eyes.
“Eddie?”
“Yeah?”
“Let's get out of here.”
You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the here and now. Here you sit, opposite Eddie, invaded by his scent, debating whether or not to just tell the truth and hang the consequences.
Taking a gulp of your drink, you set it back down and look Eddie in the eye.
“Listen, I'm gonna be honest. I saw the way you looked at Chrissy and I… I was jealous. I didn't think, I just kinda acted. I'm sorry if it was weird.”
Bravery fleeing your bones leaving behind an airy wobble, you look at your own lap, fingers twisting over and over. You're only slightly aware of the shuffle and rustle of Eddie rising to his feet, of footsteps, of the dip in the couch next to you. Then, Eddie's large hand comes to rest over both of yours.
“Do you know why, sweetheart? Why were you jealous?”
His hand is steady, fingers stilling your movements confidently, but there's a quaver to his voice that seems entirely unlike him. Grasping his fingers, you absentmindedly play with his heavy rings.
“I feel stupid. I've had… kind of a crush on you, since high school.”
Of all the reactions, you hadn't expected a deep laugh to reverberate from his chest. Recoiling in horror, you shift your hands away from his and move to stand, your only thought to run, flee.
“No no no, please, sit,” he asks, hands grasping at your waist to keep you there, as you rub at the twinge in your back again.
“Turn around,” he says, and you don't find it in you to disobey. Firm hands stroke softly down your back, “you've been rubbing your back all night. Right here?”
Fingertips circle the spot that's been aching and you nod, confused.
“Eddie, if this is a rejection, it's a really odd one- oh fuck, right there.”
He chuckles lowly, knuckles working at the knot near your spine.
“It's not, it's really not. You're in pain, and I know you'd never ask. Plus, I, ha, don't have the balls to say this to your face.”
You don't say anything in response, you can't. Of course he's noticed you're in pain, he always notices stuff like that. The fact that this isn't a rejection though? It has your head reeling with so many thoughts that you can't express the words. Eddie clears his throat, hands rubbing into your skin through your dress, easing some of the building anxiety.
“I've got a secret. I've- had a crush, on you, since middle school.”
“Shut up!” You gasp, mouth hanging open at his confession.
“Absolutely not.”
“You didn't even know me in middle school Eds.”
“Yeah I did. Well, sorta. You remember that day I ran into the library? I asked for help?”
You pick at the scab of a memory, itching it to the forefront of your brain.
“Oh yeah, you were running from that idiot... Johnny?”
“Jimmy Salinsky. He was gonna beat on me. You, you didn't hesitate. You didn't even know me, but you told me to hide under your chair, you even threw your coat over your lap to hide me.”
“What else would I do?”
He snorted derisively, continuing his impromptu massage, “ignore me, tell me to fuck off, just like anybody else. But you, no, you didn't. Jimmy ran in looking for me and you didn't even lie! He asked if a freak had run in and you-”
“-I said ‘the only freak in here is you’, I remember.”
“That's right!” He laughs, squeezing your hips appreciatively, “Then he asked if you'd seen the poor kid, Eddie. You said, ‘I've never even met an Eddie’, which was true too. Not like I introduced myself before I dived under your chair. I remember crouching there, trying not to laugh, watching your little legs swinging. You had odd socks on, and you smelled really good. Anyway, I crushed on you hard.”
Head buzzing over his words, you try to organise your thoughts.
“Did the guys- did Hellfire know?”
“Sweetheart, I'm surprised you didn't know, it was common knowledge. I just thought you never liked me like that.”
Turning to face him again, you stroke hesitant fingers over his knee.
“Didn't say anything, you were seeing Stacey.” Eddie's face screws in confusion until clarity rings like a bell in his mind.
“Her? I wasn’t- that wasn't a relationship. I would have stopped in a fucking heartbeat if I'd known.”
“Oh. I dated Tom to get over you.”
“I dated Wendy to get over you!”
Sharing a laugh, you both hold eye contact, giggles dying at the realisation of what this means.
“So, Eddie, about that kiss…” you inch forward, ever so slightly nearer to him. A pink tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip.
“Yeah, that. That was me, running my mouth,” he says, anxiety wracking his voice as he strokes his neck compulsively, “Not that I don't want to kiss you, I do, just, erm, don't expect fireworks?”
It's almost like he's back at middle school, the nerves radiating off of him. Smiling sweetly, you take his hand and place it on your jaw, leaning into its touch. The breath he exudes is shaky as he moves closer, eyes darting to your lips as yours flutter shut.
It's tentative; a brush of his mouth as if he's scared of you running, of some practical joke. When you make no move to pull away his thumb strokes your cheek, lips now moving more confidently against yours. Your heartbeat is echoing inside your head as your hand slips to slither down his chest and around him, circling his side.
Only then does his tongue slowly snake out to wet your bottom lip; a silent plea which you happily grant. Still, it's delicate, tongues moving leisurely against one another as if you have all the time in the world. It's by no means dispassionate; far from it, it may be the most emotionally charged kiss of your life, but it feels like he's holding back.
So, you pull him closer by the front of his shirt, flicking your leg over his knee as your fingers tug hard. It's then that his tongue licks into you in earnest, thick and smooth, filling your insides with need. Just when you feel utterly consumed, whining inside his mouth, he breaks away. After a few pecks to your lips, he presses his forehead to yours, breath uneven, cooling your swollen lips.
“I'm in love with you.”
It comes out of his mouth in a rush. All you can do is stare gormlessly.
“Huh?”
“I love you. I just needed you to know that. This isn't just a- a thing. I'm in love with you, I have been since forever. I know it's a lot to take in, and I don't expect you to say it back I just need you to-”
You shut him up, pressing a hard kiss to his parted lips.
“Eddie, you lied.”
“What? I'm telling the truth I-”
“You said don't expect fireworks. You were wrong.”
Wasting no more time, you force your body onto him, tongue clashing against his teeth as the force of your kiss presses him backwards. His head makes contact with the arm of the couch, hands hot and heavy on your hips, pushing you into his bulge.
The fabric of your dress is constricting your movements, making you huff into his mouth.
“Eddie,” you manage in between spit slicked kisses, “unzip me.”
There's a cross between a grunt and a moan that vibrates from him into you as his hand wanders across your back, groping its way to the zipper. In a few short bursts he manages to unzip it, not once breaking the kiss.
Cool air hits your skin and you stand up, shimmying the dress to the floor and you straddle him moving in for-
“Woah, slow down a second, just, just wait.”
You try to kiss him again but he pushes you back, your ass flush against his crotch as you sit up. His gaze is scrutinising, examining every inch of your form, making you feel more exposed than you've ever felt in your life.
The desperate urge to shy away works into your arms as you cross them over your chest, but Eddie's having none of it. He tugs at them gently, pulling them to your sides as his thumbs rub encouragement into your skin.
“Sweetheart, there's a thirteen year old boy doing backflips in my head. Let him have a moment.”
A little laugh you let out comes out as a snort whilst he gazes up at you in wonder. So, you give him a show, flicking your bra undone in one practised movement and sliding the straps down your arms, eventually letting it fall to the floor.
“Jesus H Christ and all the angels.” He breathes, grip tightening on your forearms.
A quivering hand reaches up, and to your surprise, cups your face.
“You are so beautiful.”
Eyes suddenly watering, you blink twice to will the onslaught of emotion away.
“Not like Chrissy though,” you shrug, eyes downturned.
“No, you're not like her. You're beautiful, like you.”
Tugging you forward, he pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss, the full force of his feelings overflowing and filling your heart with heat. With a nibble to your bottom lip, he lets up for a second.
“Can we go to my bedroom?”
Nodding, you clamber off him and stand up. Eddie just makes a noise like you knocked the wind out of him, holding his hand to his heart.
“What?” You ask, hands on your hips, like it was normal to be standing in front of him in just a pair of panties.
“Don't look all stern like that, or I'm gonna bust in my pants,” he jokes, standing and crowding your back.
The journey to the bedroom takes a while. Mostly because you can't keep your hands off of each other. He's grinning, giddy as a school boy, firm hands pressing into your sides, hips, ass. You respond in kind, nearly ripping his shirt in your efforts to remove it, only managing to unbutton the offensive material to expose his lean tattooed torso.
Eventually, your spine hits Eddie's mattress, the soft furnishing welcoming you, begging you to sink in further. His touches are soft too, almost reverent in their delivery. He stands to remove his shirt and jeans, bulge prominent in his black trunks with little patterns on them. As he coaxes you further up the bed you squint and realise what they are.
“Eds… are you wearing Star Wars underwear?”
He chuckles, following your eyeline. “They are Darth Vader pants, to be specific, very manly.”
The smile you flash him almost hurts your cheeks, the situation feeling so close to normal. Normal adjacent at least.
“Yeah, very manly. Almost caveman like.”
“Look, I didn't think I'd have a hot girl watching me undress tonight, let alone the woman of my dreams. Just forget the nerd pants.”
You're laughing now, even when he's grabbing a pillow and getting you to lay on top of it, positioning you just where he wants you. Your giggles stop however, when he asks a question that steals your breath away.
“Do I need to put a towel down?”
“That's very presumptuous of you.” You smile, batting your eyelashes at him.
“Look, I'm just asking. I don't mind sleeping in a wet patch I just want you to be comfortable.”
He hovers over you, lips pressed into a line of concern. pressing your mouth to his to will the tightness away, you whisper into his face.
“You want me to stay?”
“Sweetheart, I'd ask you to move in tomorrow.”
The next kiss is a searing heat, all heaving tongue and grinding hips. His hand winds into your hair, tilting your head to get you just where he wants you. No longer the blushing boy, he's the confident man, taking just what he needs and giving you what you crave. It's fire, it's want, it's everything.
“Eds?” You murmur into his mouth as your hips chase his form.
“Hmm?”
“Get the towel.”
Hopping off of you, he practically skips out of the room, leaving you to debate whether or not to take your panties off. As you finally decide to strip them, fingers wedged into the fabric, he returns.
“Nope, just wait, please?” He asks, propping you up with ease to lay the towel down under you. So, you let go, allowing your arms to fall to your sides.
“Lemme look after you,” he says, climbing on top of you to plant open mouthed kisses to your neck. You nod, gasping when his teeth graze a sensitive spot on your neck. Short nails dig into his back as you whimper at the contact.
“Right there princess, hmm?” He chuckles, mouthing at your neck.
“Uh huh- oh fuck,” as he bites softly, tongue flicking out to lather at the spot.
Moving down, his lips press to your collarbone, then down your chest, until he places a peck to your nipple.
“I've been dreaming about these tits, but nothing can compare to the real thing,” his tongue darts out, swirling around the pebbled nub, sending goosebumps over your skin, “fuckin’ flawless sweetheart.”
You want to say a smart remark, shaking your head, but all thoughts fly out the window when he sucks, rough fingers reaching out to rub the other. Back arching, your legs clamp on his little waist, saying their own prayer to keep him there.
As he releases his mouth with a wet noise, the thoughts flood back, all barriers forgotten.
“I've been thinking about you too, what you'd do, what it looks like,” you admit, truths flying free in the heat of the moment.
“Yeah?” He smiles up at you, “been thinking about my dick?”
“Yeah, how'd it feel in my mouth, how'd it feel inside me,” you breathe out as he continues his worship of you, tonguing and kissing at your tummy.
“Fuck,” he says, hot air fanning over his wet string of loving kisses, “you're gonna kill me, saying shit like that.”
“Don't die, I'll never find out,” you joke, breathing unsteady as he falls between your thighs, playfully nipping at the sensitive flesh.
“Oh we wouldn't want that. How else could you know what this feels like?”
Lifting your head, he locks eyes with you as he licks thickly over your clothed clit, pressing hard.
“Oh Eddie, yes,” you wail, wriggling under his touch.
He merely smiles in response, hooking rough fingertips into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down almost torturously slowly. They stick between your legs so much that your cheeks flush. Eddie doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, working them off your feet and tossing them on his bedside table. You briefly wonder if you're going to get them back, but then his lips are sucking at the soft skin on your ankle and you stop caring.
Up, up, up he moves, showing each patch of skin just the same amount of love, until he reaches the crease where your thigh meets, tongue rippling over it. You huff in frustration, hips wiggling.
“I'm getting to it sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to your mound, “I wanna savour this.”
Words of protest dissipate when he laps at you, rooting out your clit without a moment's hesitation. Any clandestine thoughts you had about this very moment are nothing compared to this. To the feel of Eddie sucking at your clit, his pillowy lips wrapped around it. To the sudden roughness of his fingers as they graze your entrance. To the breach of one, slipping deep inside of you, immediately seeking out your sweet spot.
“Eddie, ri-right there, oh God!”
He moans into you, vibrations tickling you in the most delicious way. It's an amazing feeling, but you can't help but think about the noises you're making. Maybe they're pathetic, and not what he's used to? You bet he's heard some beautiful moans in his time. Some pretty blonde things with long legs and big tits. Girls who know what they're doing. Oh God, what if you start feeling him up and he laughs at you? What if-
“Hey, sweetheart, you here?”
He gazes up at you between your legs, eyes boring into you with the question.
“Sorry, so sorry, I'm here I-”
“Hey. Don't apologise. You in your head?” He asks, head resting on your thigh, “you know we don't have to do this right now.”
“No, no I want to, honest, it's just- I dunno, second guessing myself? I'm just thinking about-”
“See? That's the problem. Stop thinking. Lie back and enjoy it. Just, get out of your head. No place I'd rather be.”
His brown eyes are wide, wet with honesty. He was never able to hide his real emotions, at least not with you.
“OK, I'm so- I'll enjoy it.”
“That's it. Close your eyes princess, and just feel.”
Eyes fluttering shut, you concentrate on the feel. Of his lips, suckling softly at your clit, tongue running around the hood. Then, fingers slipping inside once again, curling within you. Moans slither out of your hoarse throat as your hips roll up to meet his lips.
“That's it, so good for me,” he mumbles into you, “doing such a good job. You sound so sweet.”
Sweet. You sound sweet.
In that instant, all your hang ups begin to melt away. The pleasure he's giving you is hitting just right, making you forget all your worries. Pressure builds in your tummy; a whirling, winding force hitting you from the inside out. You're squirming, but it's as if someone outside of you is letting you know. It must be Eddie's firm palm, the one that presses into your abdomen, keeping you steady. Keeping you here, in this moment.
There's no rush. Time loses all meaning. He could be between your thighs for minutes, hours, days. All you know is the ball of desire tightening within you is fit to burst, bubbling over in a melting pot of raw emotion.
“Eddie, I'm so close, s-so close!”
He doesn't falter, doesn't deviate in his ministrations. He continues, tongue circling, fingers curling so deep inside you think you can see God. A swirling, cloying heat encapsulates you, winding around that feeling you buried in your heartstrings and tugging it loose. That deep emotion you pushed aside years ago, a healed splinter, set free by the love and care he's pouring out of his flowing tongue.
It reaches its crescendo, vision darkening as every nerve is coddled with an inner fire. You're not even sure what you feel; release, blinding pleasure, pure love? It could be all three as you cry out, fingers tugging at Eddie's hair.
He rides it out with you, fingers coaxing your orgasm to the very brink and beyond until you flop back into the bed.
The first clue you have that something different just happened is the wet feeling underneath your ass. It feels damp, and cold? Opening your eyes, you haul yourself onto your elbows to look down.
“Now are you glad I said about the towel?”
Never have you seen so much of your own release coated on a man. It's covering his mouth, chin, cheeks, hand. You briefly wonder at how it could have happened, how that much could have come out of you.
Eddie wipes his mouth and hand on the towel underneath and makes his way to hover over your heaving form, eyes practically shooting hearts at you from deep within.
“You alright princess? We can stop right now if it's too much.”
Blindly you reach out, clumsy fingers rubbing at the hard swelling of his member inside his underwear.
“Don't you want me to return the favour?” You ask, confused.
“Sweetheart, one kiss of those pretty lips on my dick and I'll be done for.”
“Then- I'm on birth control. Fuck me, please.”
The groan that he lets out is deep and guttural, moving his limbs for him. He gets up to whip his pants down and you see it for the first time. You see him.
It's big. Fuck, its the biggest you’ve seen; not just long but thick, even thicker than your fumblings thought. A glint of silver throws you for a loop, almost making you think you imagine it, but there it is again.
“Holy shit, Eddie- are you, pierced??”
“Oh yeah,” he chuckles, glancing down to follow your eye line, “you didn't know about that huh.”
He climbs on top of you, kissing as he goes, plush lips on your skin. Soft, delicate, and warm. Guiding his hardness to your opening, you can't help but rub your thumb over the tip, pre cum slipping on the balls of the piercing. Eddie's breath stutters, nearly panting in your mouth as you smirk.
“Now that's not fair sweetheart.”
You continue to smile, gathering your slick to slide him in, but it quickly turns into a wince.
“Fuck, Eddie, you're too big,” you whimper out as your eyes screw shut.
“You're fuckin’ flattering me princess.”
“I'm not, seriously, you're- oh goddamn-”
He's pushing into you, slowly, but it still burns, the sheer stretch at his girth almost too much. Gnawing at your lips, tears well in your eyes.
Eddie looks shocked, taken aback by your reaction.
“Really? Fuck, OK sweetheart, you're OK. Look at me, you can take it, yeah?”
Trust Eddie to say the hottest thing by accident. He's just trying to check in, but by God it sets your insides on fire.
“I-I'll try.”
“That's it, atta girl, little more.”
Reaching down to where you're joined, you wrap your hand loosely around the base, realising he's only halfway in.
“Eddie, jeez you could- oooh- you could have f-fucking warned me, ah!”
“Just relax, I've got you princess, you're taking it so well, you can take the rest- oh Jesus H Christ you're tight.”
A long drawn out cry echoes out of you as he bottoms out, tears loose and running down your temples. He's leaning on his elbows, fingers stroking at your hair, leaving snowflake kisses on your cheeks.
“Uh- mmmph- Eddie, you've got a pornstar dick.”
Gritting his teeth, he looks at you almost sternly.
“You can't say that or I'll cum right now, please.”
Eyes softening, you kiss his lips instead. He envelops you, tongue dancing in your mouth making you forget the dull ache. Nothing can make you forget how full you feel however, your pussy quivering uncontrollably around him even though he's not moving.
“This is so nice,” he says, entwining his fingers with yours over your head.
“Eddie, you're literally balls deep in me and it's ‘nice’?”
Laughing so hard you feel it in your chest, he kisses you again.
“Sorry, I mean, just being this close with you. It's everything I've ever wanted.”
Lips quivering, you stare at him, eyes wide and wet.
“Eddie, I lo-”
“No, don't. Not like this. Just- can I move?”
You nod, biting back the words, and he slowly rolls his hips. Eyes nearly hitting the back of your skull, you moan, meeting his movements. He's so deep, it's like he's everywhere. Every pore, every capillary, pulsing with him.
“Oh my God, baby, oh God!”
You're rambling words but it doesn't seem to matter, mind filled with fog, with feeling. With him. He links one arm under the fat of your thigh, coaxing you to curl it around him, and everything seems to fall into place all at once. Each rolling movement is pressing into that sweet spot inside of you, that spot he seems to find so easily like a gravitational pull. He smiles, panting in tandem.
“Right there princess?”
Nodding like a puppet on a string, he lets out a long groan.
“Good, I-I’m not gonna last, you feel too fuckin’ good.”
Pleased at his reaction, you link one arm around him, stroking at the taut skin of his back as he drives into you harder. Grunting with each thrust, he's tensing, holding back.
“You can come, Eddie,” you say shakily.
“Not before you sweetheart,” he replies, doubling down on his efforts.
It all feels so intense, each whirl of feeling sinking deep into your bones and fanning the flames of your heart and desire.
“Eddie, s-so close, come with me, please.”
Almost as soon as you say the words your climax springs out, overflowing with every emotion he won't let you say. It fizzes through your nerves, throbbing with each beat of your pulse.
Eddie groans, releasing at the same time, two bodies with one heart. As you both relax, melding together, you giggle at the same time. A laugh of relief, of pure happiness.
“Sorry, thought I'd last a little longer.”
He seems embarrassed, lifting his head enough to look you in the eye.
“Eddie, that was perfect.”
He snuggles his head deep in your neck, inhaling your scent as if it were the last time.
“I'm gonna get you cleaned up, hang on.”
Lifting his head once more, he kisses, and kisses, lips moving against you with pure feeling.
“OK, now I'm really gonna go.”
You giggle as he just keeps kissing you, staring up at him with each unspoken word swimming in your mind.
“Right, now, just hang on.”
With a final peck, he slips out of you, returning with a warm cloth. Not used to this affection you merely lay there, allowing him, and wriggle out of the way when he takes away the towel. When you move, you see there's still a wet patch, but it's been mitigated at least somewhat.
“I can change the sheets if you want-”
“Eddie, I don't care, just hold me.”
Grinning like a boy he climbs back into bed, pulling blankets over the both of you. Fitting together like you were always supposed to, you sigh with relief.
“Eddie? Can I say it now?”
You whisper it into his chest as he holds you close, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the evening.
“That depends sweetheart,” he says, fingers tracing unknown patterns on the skin of your arm, “you have to mean it. I couldn't take it if you didn't mean it.”
“I mean it. I love you Eddie, I think I always have.”
The smile in his voice makes you smile too.
“I love you too. Happy Valentine's Day."
Taglist
@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes
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Posession
Ulquiorra Cifer x Fem!Arrancar!Reader
***18+ Fic*** If you are under the age displayed, please find your way to another station.
Warnings: Penetrative sex (p in v), biting/marking, fingering, edging, overstimulation(?), choking/breath play, rough sex, VERY posessive Ulquiorra, spanking (ass and pussy spanking), liberal use of 'master' (both sexual and not) squirting, creampie, cockwarming if you squint, teeny bit of praise kink, dom! Ulquiorra, sub! reader, tiny bit of aftercare (ish), brief mentions of suicide (not descriptive, it’s used as a power grab/show of loyalty)
Word Count: 3.6k
Auhor's Note: Yeeeah....I'm making writer's block my bitch LMAO
Anywho, enjoy the depravity~
Being a fracción was a simple thing, really. Obey. Apologize. Obey. Especially under the fourth Espada, your job was easy. He’s reserved, quiet, but his silence does not convey weakness. It’s calculated, like everything he does. So you must be as well. You match his stoic facade, keep everything in check. You’ve learned to read his every fractional expression, most of his thoughts you’re able to read without struggle. Once you’d begun thinking like him, it became infinitely easier to remain as his fracción and remain unpunished, for the most part.
With all of that in mind, you can’t fathom what you missed.
He’s cornered you in your personal quarters outside of your usual fracción duties. If he needs something urgently, he can easily summon you to his side instantaneously. Clearly, it wasn’t urgent enough to warrant a summons. So what exactly do his barely furrowed brows and unusually dark glare mean? You stand, awaiting orders of some kind, while he stalks slowly closer to you. His footsteps are measured, as always. He doesn’t stop, however, when his chest bumps your own. His frame pushes against yours as you easily step backward, matching his pace until your back hits the wall. It isn’t often you can’t read his mind.
“A thousand apologies, Master Ulquiorra, I am unable to discern what you need tonight.” His viridian glare flickers over your features, schooled to match his own usual indifference. The silence is long, stretched thin over the seconds you spend trying to decipher the Espada’s thoughts to no avail. All you can do is study his face. Those piercing, unwavering eyes that you could lose yourself in forever. The tiny tick in his sharp jaw, the tiniest pinch in his brows. Dark lines reminiscent of tear tracks streak down his pale cheeks, drawing the eyes down his neck toward the hollow at the base of his throat. It isn’t often he chooses to leave it exposed.
“Has anyone paid you a visit today?” The deep baritone vibrates through your body, snapping your thoughts back to the present. No other Espada would dare come to you, unless it were urgent or a special case. None of the humans would bother with you either, even Lord Aizen is far above seeking the assistance of a fracción. He should already know the answer to that question.
“No, Master Ulquiorra.” You don’t bother to elaborate, he hates hearing unneeded explanations. A simple answer is all he ever needs. At the confirmation, his features relax. His expression is blank once again, the calculated persona clicking into place like a puzzle piece. You know you’re one of the very few that can read his micro expressions, if he were talking to any of the other Espada or fracción they’d probably never notice whatever inner turmoil plagues his mind. But you do.
When he turns to leave, you can’t help but want to ease whatever troubles him. It’s second nature, for a fracción such as yourself. You were made to serve him, to assist him, to do anything and everything necessary to help him reach his goal.
“Master Ulquiorra?” He stops on a dime, casually turning to face you once again. He wants this kept short, he always does. So you don’t bother beating around the bush.
“May I be of any assistance? I can see something is on your mind.” His eyes swiftly trace down and back up your entire form. If you weren’t looking for it, you’d have missed it.
“No. Good night.” Swiftly, he turns and leaves, the door to your room closing softly behind him. How odd.
The next week is spent assisting the fourth Espada with research of the hogyoku. There isn’t much to be gathered besides what Lord Aizen already knows, and each night you wonder exactly what has Ulquiorra wound so tightly. Yes, his mind still lingers on whatever it is he confronted you about that night. Unfortunately, an answer does not come to you, but instead a new series of questions is given to you when you’re visited once again in your quarters. You feel him approaching long before he arrives, that spiritual pressure is unmistakable. But why is he here?
You’re down on your knees before the door swings open, head bowed down, not from the pressure but out of respect for the man. Lord Aizen steps over the threshold, his footsteps heavy and booming, into the small space of your room. You’ve only ever seen him across a hall or room during a meeting of some kind, and he’s never ever addressed you directly. Any and all orders came through Master Ulquiorra, even if they were from Lord Aizen himself.
“So respectful. Ulquiorra has trained you well, fracción. Stand.” You waste no time, standing at full height and keeping your eyes focused on the ground. Making eye contact could be fatal. You have to tense every muscle in your body to keep from flinching when a large hand reaches out toward your face, and you stop breathing when he grabs your chin and begins to turn your head this way and that. He’s…examining you. Releasing your face, he begins a slow, steady pace circling around you as you stand perfectly still. You don’t know what this is about, but you don’t dare ask, his piercing gaze is more than enough warning not to speak at all, let alone move.
“Very interesting.” It takes all of your resolve not to scream and protest when you feel two large hands, suddenly and harshly, grasp your waist and tug your back against his chest. His chin hooks over your shoulder and his voice is too close, too deep, too dark.
“What a darling fracción. Tell me, why is Ulquiorra so distracted lately? One of my most loyal Espada has been faltering lately.” He’s been faltering? Oh no, what could have him so worked up?
“My sincerest apologies, Lord Aizen. I have not been able to discern his troubles. He has hidden all of his mind from me lately. I have failed as his fracción.” You know you’ve failed. If his mind is so distracted that Lord Aizen has noticed a difference in his performance, then you have failed to be of assistance. You were created for it, and yet you have failed. The ultimate failure.
“Oh, don’t be so down, little fracción. You have not failed, yet.” Yet? What does he mean by that? He releases you from his hold in favor of meeting you face to face, grasping your chin once again and forcing your eyes to meet his own. It’s a terrifying thing, those eyes are pure bloodlust.
“If Ulquiorra were to have you kill yourself for any reason, would you do it?”
“Yes.” You didn’t even have to think about the answer. Undeniably, you would. No matter the order, you’d follow through. If Ulquiorra ordered you to kill Lord Aizen himself, you would kill him or die trying.
“Very good, fracción. Such unwavering loyalty is not so common.” Maybe not, but fraccións are created for the sole purpose of mindless loyalty and obedience. It should not be a surprise that you are this way. Though something deep in your psyche tells you loyalty is not the only quality you hold for your master.
Another layer of spiritual pressure falls on the room, but you are unable to look over Lord Aizen’s wide shoulders with your face stuck in his grip. Regardless, you know who has joined you.
“Ulquiorra, I was wondering when you’d arrive.” The Espada’s footsteps halt behind the former shinigami.
“Lord Aizen.” Nothing more than an acknowledgement, but all of the questions you know he wants to ask remain unspoken when dark brown meets deep emerald, their sharp gazes piercing each other. The tension is palpable, for reasons you cannot calculate. Never would you have thought Ulquiorra could level such a glare at the man he’s sworn his loyalty. Your chin is finally released, and a boom resonates through the small chamber, the white fabric on Ulquiorra’s back suddenly filling your gaze as Lord Aizen turns back to face you both. A sonido? Here? Now? In front of Lord Aizen? What is going on with Master Ulquiorra? The thick silence is suffocating, the air itself seems to be vibrating with clashing spiritual pressures and tension. You’re having a hard time breathing, your body feeling heavier the longer the silence stretches. It feels like an eternity passes and you fall to your knees, but you know it can’t have been more than a split second. As quickly as it built, the tension dissipates as you sit there on your knees, panting and sweating in the aftermath.
“Tend to your fracción, Ulquiorra, the way we both know you want to. She may not be privy to your thoughts but I can read you like a book.” Lord Aizen’s smirk is measured carefully, and he’s gone in an instant. You don’t dare move until that spiritual pressure is gone completely, and even then you’re struggling to recuperate. Tenderly, lithe fingers brush away whatever hair had fallen in your face, emerald gaze searching your face as you peer up at him. Searching for what, you don’t know.
“Stand.” You do as asked, wobbling for a moment while your strength returns. Strong hands, one on your shoulder and one on your waist, steady you. It’s strange, he’s never actually touched you before. Not like this. You don’t know what to do about the sudden feeling in your chest, warmth and contentment spreading like a wildfire to your mind. Even more so you’re left unsure about your newfound feelings, when instead of giving a command he chooses to lift you in his arms. The boom of a sonido is so much different when you’re moving the distance, but not of your own volition. The door to Master Ulquiorra’s quarters is thrown open and you’re unceremoniously tossed onto the large bed.
“Master Ulquiorra?” You can’t help your confusion. The past fifteen minutes have been a whirlwind of unnatural occurrences. His movements are almost frantic as he strides over to the door and seals it shut, locking it from the inside and training those eyes right on you. It’s a predatory glare he pins you with, the viridian swirling with something dark and sultry and filled with an insatiable lust. It makes your carefully crafted mask of indifference crack and splinter, eyes widening as your body curls into itself. You aren’t afraid, not of him. But something in his eyes just screams danger, and you can’t help the blistering heat coiling in the pit of your stomach nor the involuntary squeeze of your thighs. It doesn’t go unnoticed. Before anything else, a tension settles over the room much like earlier.
“What was Lord Aizen’s business with you?” What a strange question.
“He asked if I knew why you were lacking in your duties lately. I couldn’t answer.” His chest rises and falls heavily, a muscle in his jaw tensing momentarily.
“Was that all?” You shook your head, not at all inclined to keep anything from Ulquiorra.
“He asked if I’d kill myself at your order.” He went eerily still, every muscle in his body tensed and ready like a coiled snake.
“And your answer?”
“Without question. I would do anything you asked of me, Master Ulquiorra.” The glare he levels you with is primal, carnal desire. There’s no question about it, his entire being is consumed by lust. In the time it takes you to blink, he’s got you pinned to the bed with a hand wrapped tight around your neck, his lips claiming yours in a display of barely controlled dominance that has your entire body trembling. Teeth grab at every piece of skin he can reach. Blooming bites and bruises form along your jaw and neck, carefully skirting around the hollow in your own chest, his fingers squeezing around your throat in increments sending your vision blurry. Your clothes are shredded off your body and you’re left completely exposed for the arrancar keeping you pinned to his bed. Pain shoots through you, jolting your body, the sensation of teeth burying into your shoulder and it’s all you can do to bite your lip to stay quiet. The hand on your throat squeezes, Ulquiorra’s voice rattling your brain.
“I want to hear you. Not a single noise you make will be stifled.” It’s a proclamation, a statement of fact, rather than a request or demand. The next bite is accompanied by a sharp pinch, your nipple peaked between his index finger and thumb as he tugs at it, your voice coming out in a yelp and slowly melding into a low moan while he toys with your breasts.
“Beautiful.” That single word sends shivers down your spine. There isn’t a single moment you can remember being praised in any way, and your head is spinning from it. His mouth continues its assault on your skin, following the curve of your shoulder and down your breasts. You can see the bite marks scattered over your chest, it lights a fire beneath your skin you can’t quite describe. He takes his time marking you, one hand ghosting over you and the other remaining planted on your neck, his lips mapping your body. You’re trembling from the attention he’s lavishing you with, you know he can feel the way your body shakes from all the stimulation. When his wandering hand finally reaches between your thighs, you’re shy knowing how messy you’ve become. His fingers are toying with the folds of your pussy, teasing around the entrance and barely ghosting over your swollen clit, his lips still sucking and biting and marking. He’s claiming you, completely dominating your being and making you his.
He’s squeezing your throat in longer stents now, giving you short spaces to breathe between the dizzying cut off of your air supply. He can see the effect it’s having on you, your legs weaker as they try to close around his hand toying with your cunt, tears falling down your cheeks, your eyelids fluttering shut the longer he keeps your breathing controlled. And your pretty pussy is leaking so much more now, dripping onto his sheets and soaking his fingers. His emerald gaze stares up at you when you reach up and grasp at his arm, weakly clawing at him for a breath. He loves seeing you like this, completely reliant on him, even to do something as simple and basic and breathing.
The edges of your vision spot black and you’re shaking harder the closer you get to unconsciousness. You can’t fight it much longer, as much as you want to. Your eyes roll back into your skull as two long fingers plunge into your pussy and you’re granted air once again, the gasping breaths you take making your head spin and the fingers buried deep inside you curl up to hit a spot that makes your back arch up off the bed. It’s euphoric. You’re shaking hard, your legs clamped around Ulquiorra’s hand as something snaps in your abdomen, sending you head first into a freefall of blinding pleasure. Your guttural moans bounce off the walls after being ripped from your lungs, a sinful melody in the arrancar’s ears. When you can finally focus again Ulquiorra is standing above you in all his naked glory, clothing tossed into a random corner. He’s a beautiful man, pale skin flawless and smooth, and you can’t help the way your eyes trace down his toned body to lock onto his hard leaking cock as it stands proud.
“Get on your knees. Turn around and present yourself to me.” The command is clear, the dominant cadence of his voice making you tremble as you obey your master. Dropping your chest to the bed, you spread your knees and grip the sheets tight between your fingers, exposing your ass and cunt to the lust crazed Espada. Shivers wrack your body from the groan he lets slip past his lips, you yelp and jolt when a sharp slap lands on your bare pussy.
“Look at you. So obedient, so submissive. Such a pretty, slutty little fracción for me.” A moan is punched from you at the praise, and your cunt clenches down around nothing. One hand smooths over one of your ass cheeks and slides up your back, reaching all the way to the back of your neck and keeping steady pressure, pinning you in place. Again you clench around nothing as Ulquiorra teases the tip of his cock at your entrance, never delving further, bumping your clit and making you jump with every pass. You know better than to speak out of turn, but you can’t take it anymore.
“P-please…” Everything halts, even your breathing stops at the realization of what you'd just done. A heavy hand slaps your ass, leaving a blooming red mark in its wake, your whole body jerking at the contact and a moan tearing from your throat. Another slap lands in the same place, harder this time, and another. They keep coming until your moans are sounding more like screams, but Ulquiorra knows better, the gush of your cute pussy giving away just how much you’re enjoying yourself. Mercifully, he rubs at the raw skin in soothing circles.
“A fitting punishment, don’t you think? For speaking unprompted,” you nod as much as you can still pinned beneath him, tears staining your cheeks and the bedsheets.
“Y-yes, Master Ulquiorra.” You can’t see it, but you can hear the devious grin in his voice. If only you had the pleasure of witnessing such an expression.
“Good girl, you’re learning.” Your loud moan is swallowed by the sheets.
“Oh? You like the praise, sweet thing?” It’s formed as a question, but it feels like he’s taunting you, like it’s something shameful to enjoy. You can’t bring yourself to answer, embarrassed to be so affected by his praise. His hand comes down again on your still painful ass.
“I asked you a question. I expect an answer.” Between small hiccups and sniffles, you squeak out a response.
“Yes! I love hearing your praise, Master.” Satisfied, he chuckles, deep and dark and dangerous. He doesn’t bother speaking anymore, focused solely on dragging out your torturous pleasure as long as he can endure. His fingers are shoved into your pussy, ripping a groan out of you and he sets a punishing pace, pumping and curling and spreading to prepare you to take his sizable cock. You can feel that sensation again, tightening in the depths of your belly, feel your legs begin to shake like before, whines and moans spilling into the room. But just before that tension snaps, you’re left empty. You could cry, being denied that release. Ulquiorra just laughs again before rubbing tight, quick circles into your clit to build up the tension again. You desperately want to beg him to let you cum, want to sing his praises in hopes that he’ll pull you over that blissful release, but you know you can’t. Your chest is heaving, entire body shaking as he builds you up to the point of snapping, only to stop just before you’re shoved over the edge again. You cry, sob as another orgasm is stolen away from you. Your body is shaking so hard he doesn’t even have to move his fingers to rub at your clit, just hold them while you tremble and let you work yourself to that peak again and again. Then he stills completely, listening to your pathetic sniveling at being denied so much pleasure.
“Go ahead. Beg.”
“Please! Please Master Ulquiorra make me cum! I want to feel it so bad, I need it. I can’t take any more, please make me cum!” You can hear his evil chuckle, he’s adoring this. In one fluid motion he buries his aching cock all the way to the hilt, your scream is punched from your lungs and your vision blanks, his heavy balls slap against your clit as he slams into you with his full weight. You can’t hear anything as you cum hard, feeling liquid gush from your cunt and drip down your legs, squirting all over Ulquiorra’s thighs. He doesn’t stop, leaning over you and pounding into you until he feels his own orgasm quickly approaching. Shaking is all you can do, pinned down and at the mercy of your master as he empties into you, hot ropes of thick cum filling you to the brim as he finally stills.
You’re both sucking in heavy breaths in the aftershock, slowly he releases your neck and lays the both of you down on your side, cock still plugging your cunt, keeping all his cum inside you. He holds your trembling form close, gently massaging your shoulders, hips, neck and thighs. Every piece of you that he’s sure aches, he tenderly soothes. It takes a long while for you to pick up the shattered pieces of your mind, he can see your eyes regain their focus as he places soft kisses over your shoulder.
“Are you alright?” You blink away some of the daze, nod slowly to answer. The both of you hiss when he slips his soft cock from you, sensitive as ever. He flips you around to face him, tugging your body over his own so you’re laying on top of him. His fingers caress down your back and massage your scalp and neck, further grounding your mind. It’s comfortable, sweet. You don’t want to be anywhere else. Gently, he turns your head to look into your eyes.
“For the last week I have battled with the notion that you were not solely my own fracción and you would be stolen away by another Espada.” A small, lazy smile graces your features. What a silly concept.
“I’m not going anywhere, Master Ulquiorra.” His gaze turns possessive.
“Of course you aren’t, my dear fracción,” his hand grips your chin firmly, eyes piercing your own, “You belong to me, and only me.”
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