#brat eddie munson

[steddieas-shegoes]

i wanna make you love me

for @subeddieweek day three with the prompts brat eddie and wet and choking

rated e | 2,978 words | please check ao3 for tags

Day one:  ao3 | tumblr Day two: ao3 | tumblr

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

He’s left on his knees, blindfolded.

There’s no sound in the room, nothing to give away what’s coming next.

Fingers in his hair. Hand around his throat. Lips against his ear.

“You’re helpless like this, aren’t you?”

Eddie whined.

Whining never got him anywhere except in more trouble, and sometimes Eddie really liked being in trouble.

And because Steve was always honest after a scene, he admitted that he loved when Eddie was a brat, loved to see him subtly ignore Steve’s directions and make little noises even when he was supposed to be quiet. Eddie played into it sometimes, but it came naturally for him to ignore orders, even when he was floating away in his head.

The hand around his throat tightened for a moment, barely enough to actually cut off his air, and then disappeared completely.

“I know what you want, but if you can’t be my good boy, you don’t get to have it. You know better,” Steve said from behind him.

Eddie’s hands weren’t tied, they hardly ever were if he was blindfolded. The only time he’d had to safeword was when he’d been tied up in bed and blindfolded with a gag in. He felt too helpless, past the point of enjoying whatever control Steve had and into dangerous territory. But he knew not to move them.

Moving them would mean punishment, and never the kind he actually wanted.

Steve’s fingers tightened in his hair, tugging at his scalp until he had no choice but to let his head fall backwards. He rested it against Steve’s thigh, a smug smile making its way across his face.

“You want me to be your good boy?” Eddie rasped out. “Maybe I don’t feel like being good.”

Steve was quiet for a moment, not even letting out a breath.

“I’m not spanking you.”

Eddie immediately pouted. It’s not that he thought he’d get what he wanted immediately, but that tone was definite, final.

“Not even one time?” Eddie hated not being able to see the look on Steve’s face. “Even if I promise to cry?”

Steve snorted. “I’m sure you’ll be crying soon enough, but it won’t be from my hand on your ass.”

Steve’s leg disappeared from behind him so quickly he nearly fell backwards. He managed to right himself just as Steve’s laugh hit his ears.

“Take away your sight and it’s like you can’t do anything, huh?” Steve teased. “I’ll just wait right here and you let me know when you wanna be good.”

“Hope you’re comfy. Could be a while,” Eddie responded, ignoring the heat on his cheeks at his mild embarrassment. Steve knew exactly what buttons to push and when, but Eddie knew exactly how hard to fight back to get what he wanted.

Steve was quiet. Eddie was quiet.

Everything was still.

Eventually, Eddie sighed. “Are you really gonna try to be more stubborn than me, a brat?”

“You’re barely a brat, Eddie. Just need to learn lessons the hard way, don’t you?” Steve sounded like he was sitting on his bed, but it was hard to know for sure. “I have all night. I’ve got a drink and a comfy bed. I’ll be fine.”

“You know I like being on my knees. I’ll be fine, too.”

Except he wasn’t. Already, all he could think about was how much he wanted to touch Steve, to be touched by Steve. His knees were sore, his arms were sore, his ass was sore from sitting on his feet this long. He was already close to giving in when the sound of Steve’s belt coming off distracted him.

He’d had plenty of thoughts about how that belt could be used before, and wouldn’t really be opposed to any of those options now.

But the belt hit the floor and the bed creaked.

Steve wasn’t using the belt on him. Steve was relaxing in his bed. Probably not even paying any attention to Eddie or his hard and leaking cock.

Fucking rude.

Eddie’s fingers tapped against each other behind his back, maybe a song or maybe just impatience. Probably impatience. His head wasn’t full of anything except irritation at being ignored.

He knew that’s what Steve wanted, for the irritation to win and he would give in to whatever Steve desired. He’d crawl on his hands and knees over to the bed, apologizing for being a brat and begging to be touched, to get his mouth on Steve’s cock, anything.

Eddie would be lying if he didn’t want that, too.

But more than that, he wanted to see what would happen if he didn’t give in for once, if Steve finally got tired of the attitude and did something about it.

Maybe he’d actually, finally fuck him.

Everything they’d done until now had been hands and mouths only, which was amazing and better than anything Eddie could have expected from anyone, let alone Steve.

After a hard day at school, coming back home and knowing that Steve would be over after his shift at Family Video to take care of him or to bring him back to his house to let him get loud would turn his entire day around. It happened often enough that he knew he was becoming somewhat dependent on it. But with nearly two months of this under their belt, Eddie was starting to wonder if maybe he wasn’t the only one with feelings far beyond the trust between friends.

Steve let out a groan.

And then Eddie heard it: the slick noise of him stripping his own cock, probably using the lube from his bedside table. Or his own spit.

God, that made Eddie see red.

It was his job to spit on Steve’s cock, his job to let his hand or mouth be used by Steve so he could get off.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he realized this was Steve’s punishment for him, making him listen to him get off without him.

“Wish that was my hand,” Eddie said with a smirk.

If he played this right, maybe Steve would get desperate enough to give in.

“I bet you do, baby,” Steve replied, breathless, like he was already close to the edge. How long had he been worked up? How had he been so quiet before?

“Or my mouth,” Eddie supplied, feeling a little less confident that Steve would give in.

“Mhm,” Steve said before moaning, his hand speeding up on his cock.

Eddie wanted to watch. He wanted his mouth around him. He wanted Steve’s hands in his hair, pushing him down until he was choking, spit making a mess under them. He wanted to rip this blindfold off and let the image of Steve getting himself off be burned permanently into his brain, used for the nights when Steve was busy shuffling kids around or hanging out with Robin or working a closing shift.

“Can I please watch?” Eddie was desperate, okay? Being a brat came second to seeing Steve’s thick cock leaking precum while he fucked his own hand.

“Oh, I dunno,” Steve’s hand stopped. “I think you should have to listen to me get off since you decided to touch yourself without permission.”

That was how all of this started.

—

Steve had told him not to touch himself last night when he left the trailer, wanted to see if he could go a few days without it and said he had a plan to make it worth his while.

Of course, Eddie, still wrung out from two back-to-back orgasms from Steve’s mouth, had agreed with no argument.

It didn’t occur to him how difficult that would be until he woke up humping his mattress and whimpering Steve’s name.

He’d done okay the first part of the day, despite the rough start, because he’d overslept and had to rush to school. He made it all the way through his band practice with the guys, skipping the song he wrote about Steve so he wouldn’t face any unexplainable challenges. Made it through dinner with Wayne, though he started to feel a bit jittery when he realized it was nearly seven and Steve hadn’t called to let him know he was leaving work yet.

Those jitters got worse when Wayne left for his night shift, now officially a permanent change to his schedule. It was great for having Steve over, but kinda sucked for the nights when he’d be alone.

He paced the floor, tried playing his guitar, tried smoking.

When the phone rang, Eddie rushed to grab it, only to be told by Steve that he was running a bit late and wouldn’t be able to stay long.

Something in Eddie snapped when he hung up.

His hand immediately went to the button on his jeans, popping it open and shoving his hand down the front of his pants.

Nothing except getting off was on his mind.

That’s how Steve found him: pants at his knees while he fisted his own cock while sitting on the couch waiting for him.

At first, he hadn’t said anything, just stared at him until Eddie stopped moving, chest heaving as he tried to find his breath.

“Get in my car.”

Not even a hello, not even a wave.

He didn’t even stay inside to see if Eddie was listening. He left the trailer and got in his car.

Eddie followed. Of course, he did.

The ride to Steve’s house was silent, radio turned off to add to Eddie’s stress.

He was still rock hard in his pants, and the longer he went without any relief, the more painful it got.

When they got to Steve’s house, he got out, not waiting for Eddie as he walked up to the front door and unlocked it. Eddie stumbled out of the car and into the house, feeling just a bit on edge in more ways than one.

“So I ask you not to touch yourself less than 24 hours ago. I even tell you there’s a reward in it for you if you can do it. And what do you do?” Steve’s arms are folded across his chest as he stands at the foot of the stairs.

“Um. Touch myself?”

“You wanna explain?”

Eddie hated that tone. It sounded like every time a teacher found one of his papers lacking despite all his efforts, or when a cop caught him dealing in the woods last year. It was different when it was Steve, but it still annoyed him, put him on edge.

So he responded as he always did.

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

And now he was suffering.

–

Not actually. Like, he wasn’t in pain. He was probably going to come untouched soon just from the combination of everything happening, and the embarrassment of that would probably be emotionally painful, but he’d been through worse.

It was just hard to know he was missing a good show and probably wouldn’t even get to have Steve’s hands on him because he was impatient.

So maybe the punishment was working.

Eddie felt himself whimper.

“Color?” Steve asked, because he was always paying attention, even when Eddie deserved this treatment. He was always more concerned about Eddie being okay.

Eddie evaluated himself. Mentally, he was okay, other than being frustrated. But physically, his legs were starting to actually hurt to a point beyond the kind he enjoyed. He was losing feeling in his feet and hated the pins and needles that came with feeling coming back.

“Yellow.”

Steve was in front of him within seconds, hand on his head, loosening the blindfold.

The blindfold wasn’t a problem. Maybe he could convince him to put it back once he was sitting somewhere more comfortable.

“What do you need, Eds?” Steve’s voice was soft, tender compared to where it had been all night.

“Maybe a chair? Or the bed. My legs hurt.” Eddie blinked up at him, feeling overwhelmed by seeing Steve’s completely naked body in front of him so suddenly.

“Alright. Come up to the bed,” Steve lifted him under his arms, taking most of his weight when Eddie nearly crumbled back to the floor.

His legs were maybe a bit more numb than he realized.

“Shit, baby, why didn’t you say something sooner?” Steve asked as he half-carried him to his bed. “I’m trying to punish you in a sexy way, not an actual painful way.”

Eddie snorted. “I didn’t realize it was this bad. I was kinda lost in my thoughts.”

“You weren’t in space yet, though.”

“No, just thinking about how I’m an idiot and how good you are at knowing exactly what type of punishment gets to me,” Eddie grimaced as he sat back, flexing his knees and ankles to get feeling back in them.

“Well, you like attention and you like being able to touch me, so taking those two things away will definitely get to you.”

“You’re right, but it hurt my feelings, Stevie,” Eddie smiled at him to let him know it didn’t actually hurt him.

“You need anything else?” Steve asked, massaging his legs to get blood flowing again. “Water? Do you need to stop?”

“No, no. I’m good. Maybe just another minute.”

Steve nodded, lifting his leg and kissing his knee.

Eddie watched, swallowed back the words he wanted to say but knew he couldn’t.

This was all he’d have. Just this friendship, this trust, and the care required for a BDSM relationship.

He could keep being okay with that.

“No blindfold though,” Steve said. “You’re gonna watch me take care of myself.”

“But-”

“Nope.” Steve’s hand circled his own cock, not moving, just making it obvious that he was planning on it. “You know what you can do for me, though?”

“What?” Eddie didn’t like the tone of his voice or the growing smile on his face.

“You could spit on my cock, make sure it’s nice and wet for me to get myself off.”

Eddie groaned. He absolutely hated Steve. Hated that Steve was still pushing him in just the right ways. Hated that he actually loved it, never wanted him to stop.

“And if I don’t?” Eddie dared to ask.

“Then I stop now and drive you home.”

Shit. Eddie knew he wasn’t bluffing.

Eddie leaned over, making sure to keep his hands in his own lap, gathered spit in his mouth, and let it drip down onto Steve’s cock.

Steve moaned as it happened, keeping his eyes locked on Eddie’s as he let it pool against his fingers before sliding his hand up and down his length.

Eddie spit again, letting his gaze drop to the way it glistened on Steve’s cock. Mesmerized, Eddie kept his mouth open, letting whatever spit that gathered fall from his mouth.

“Such a good boy for me. Love it when you’re good.” Steve’s other hand nudged Eddie’s face up, eyes piercing him with a hungry look. “Kinda love it when you’re bad, too.”

If Eddie hadn’t already been rock hard for hours, practically edging himself with his own hand and thoughts, then maybe those words wouldn’t have been enough to make him come.

Steve froze, looking down at Eddie’s still twitching cock, the mess he made across his own stomach and thighs. “Holy shit. C’mere,” Steve’s hands grabbed him, tugging him roughly into his lap and spreading the mess of Eddie across both of them and the sheets.

Steve’s lips were hot against his, bruising, rough, unyielding.

Eddie’d never been kissed like that, not even by Steve.

If he could get hard this second from it, he would.

“That was so fucking hot,” Steve gasped against his lips, barely breaking the kiss to speak.

Eddie whimpered, rutting his ass against Steve’s still slick cock, hoping to add to the mess between them.

Steve’s hand ran up his chest, squeezing a nipple between his fingers as he bucked up, seeking more friction. He didn’t need to say anything for Eddie to know he was close.

His hand inched closer to Eddie’s throat, and for a moment, just one, Eddie panicked.

They’d talked about this. Eddie said he wouldn’t trust anyone but Steve, Steve admitted he wouldn’t feel comfortable doing it for anyone but Eddie, they agreed on what to do if Eddie couldn’t talk and needed to safeword out.

But the moment Steve’s fingers wrapped around his throat, Eddie melted.

Steve barely applied any pressure, just let the weight of his hand rest on his skin, holding him with a silent threat and a strength he never used except when he wanted to throw Eddie around and make him feel good.

“Can’t believe how lucky I am,” Steve said against his jaw, frantically chasing his own orgasm while Eddie was barely holding himself up in his lap. “Get to have you like this. All to myself.”

Steve’s breathy whine gave way to his hand falling from Eddie’s neck.

Warmth hit Eddie’s ass and thighs and he realized the angle of Steve’s cock was almost perfect to slide inside him, if he were loose, if he were wet in the right spot. He closed his eyes at the thought of Steve just slipping into him now, no prep. It was nearly enough to have his cock filling again.

“Fuck,” Steve laughed against Eddie’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Eddie tensed.

Steve tensed.

Steve pulled away, panic all over his face.

Eddie didn’t-

He couldn’t-

He got off of Steve’s lap, crashing down to earth.

“Eddie-”

Eddie stood and ran.

He could handle not being loved.

He was used to not being loved the way he needed and wanted to be.

But he couldn’t handle the small flicker of hope being dashed in his chest. He couldn’t handle the pity Steve would show, apologizing for saying something he didn’t mean in the heat of the moment.

He couldn’t handle how much he wanted it to be true.

Day four: ao3 | tumblr

[fuctacles]

Marital bliss

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Ao3 For @subeddieweek Day 3 | E | 1430 | cw: misogynistic roleplay | content warning banner by @cafekitsune | please tell me if I should add a tag | this is wild so bear with me as i try to explain what I just wrote: pwp, marriage roleplay but its the 50s, wife!Eddie, free use-ish, objectification, degradation, 24/7 dynamics, conservative marriage dynamics, a hint of brat Eddie for funsies

With another loud clang of the dishes, Eddie was starting to wonder if he should be worrying about the well-being of their kitchenware. Steve would probably be disappointed in him if he broke a plate just because of his slippery fingers. And he wouldn't want to disappoint him. 

It is fun to make him angry sometimes, but that anger comes from a place of love. Not disappointment. 

He tries to put the mug he just rinsed on the rack, but his hand misses, and it lands sideways. He focuses extra hard to put it upright. There were only a couple of plates left, thankfully, so he started scrubbing on them with determination to get done as soon as possible.

"You missed a spot," Steve grunts into his ear, with a particularly hard thrust of his hips. 

Eddie presses his lips together, his grip on the plate tightening.

"Well, you're missing a spot too," he mumbles, unable to help himself. 

Steve freezes. 

"What was that?"

Uh oh.

Eddie's dick twitched while his blood turned cold.

"Nothing," he says innocently, doubling down on cleaning the plate.

Steve doesn't share his sentiment about their tableware, seemingly ready to buy all the plates and dishes that need replenishment, because he pulls him in without a warning. The movement impales him on his dick, getting it impossibly deeper. He whines, balancing on his toes.

"Do you think you deserve it? You're not done with your chores." Steve points out, rolling his hips, and massaging his insides. "Finish the dishes, and I'll think about it."

Eddie gets scrubbing, but that was the wrong move.

Steve bends him over the sink, hand on the nape of his neck. Eddie yelps. His feet are barely touching the ground and the edge of the sink is digging into his hips. 

"Understood?" Steve asks, his voice firm.

"Yes, honey," he manages out. But Steve doesn't let him go, so he angles his arms to reach the plate again and finish cleaning it. He works quickly, aware that if he keeps this angle for too long, his arms will cramp. 

"Good, keep going," Steve praises him, and the words fuel his movements. All the while, his husband’s hips make minuscule movements, just there to remind him about his position. 

"Done," he says soon, planting the last two dishes on the rack. But behind him, Steve clicks his tongue. He freezes.

"Are you sure?"

Eddie scrambles for what he might have done wrong. He knows he needs to find the answer quickly.

"It's like you don't want to get fucked," Steve coos behind him, hips stilling. He's on the verge of disappointment and Eddie can't have it. He's staring at the stray grain of rice in the sink, begging for answers. 

I shouldn't be here, idiot, the rice tells him.

So he turns on the faucet, gives the sink a thorough swipe, and puts the sponge away. 

"How about now?" he asks, the cocky idiot inside him rearing his head out once again.

His answer is a rough push forward into the sink that pushes the air out of him. He scrambles to grip the edges of the sink.

"Perfect, if not for the attitude," Steve tells him. He pulls out of him and slams back in, finally hitting his prostate. He wheezes, choking on his own tongue. "Do you want to be rewarded or punished? I can't tell anymore." He hasn't picked up the pace yet, making shallow thrusts that barely stimulate Eddie. He huffs.

"You're the boss here, you tell me."

Steve pulls him up by his hair and Eddie stumbles back on his feet and into a tight embrace, Eddie's naked body against his clothed one.

"You just don't want to think for yourself, do you?" Steve scoffs. "Want me to do everything for you, huh? Put the food on the table and buy you nice clothes while you clean and cook and get fucked. Is that what you want?"

Eddie was starting to get lightheaded, but he forced himself to swallow and push out some words.

"Mhm. Wanna be a good wife for you."

"Good," Steve growls into his ear, and he sounds satisfied with the answer. Eddie's dick perks up at the praise. "It's all you're good for anyway. Slaving away at home while I'm making money. Thinking of my dick while cleaning the toilet."

Eddie whines, slipping further and further into that sweet space where he was just a hole for his husband to use and fill up.

"Yes, love your dick," he admits breathlessly.

Steve hums into his ear and brushes away his hair to press gentle kisses on his cheek, and his neck, the touch a stark contrast to the scene so far. 

"I think you deserve a treat for all the honesty, don't you?" he asks, but there's something in his tone telling Eddie it's a trick question. He scrambles to find the right answer.

"Uh," he licks his lips. Where did his brain cells go? "I deserve what my husband wants."

A smile stretches against his cheek, and he gets a soft kiss for his words.

"That's the right answer, wifey. And I want to fuck you like the stupid whore that you are."

"Thank you, thank you," he says reverently as he's being bent over again, his face almost hitting the faucet, and fucked into another dimension. 

He grips the metal rod in front of him, mewling at every slam into his prostate, at every move pushing his dick against the cupboards below him. He can feel the bruises forming where his hips are pressing against the counter, but all he thinks of is his husband's pleasure. He wants to be good for him. He keeps the house clean, meals ready and his hole prepared for use whenever Steve feels like slipping in. Be it for relaxing after a day of work, punishing Eddie for neglecting a chore, or rewarding for a tasty dinner. Eddie would do it all with a smile because he loved being there for him. He loved his husband, simple as that.

It feels faster than it is, but his husband comes deep inside him, with a quiet growl right against his ear. Eddie sighs at the feeling of hot seed inside him and pushes his ass up when Steve pulls out and smears the head of his dick around his entrance, making a further mess of his hole. 

"Clean me up," he says, and Eddie turns around on his wobbly legs to sink down on his knees and lick up everything Steve didn't manage to wipe on his skin. He looks up when Steve caresses his cheek and is rewarded with a loving smile. "That's a good whore. My perfect little wife."

Eddie hums with satisfaction, preening at the words. He keeps licking until Steve pulls him away by his hair. He sits back on his hunches and watches his beloved dick get hidden back behind a wall of denim.

"Now, now, stop pouting." Steve tuts, swiping a thumb over his bottom lip. "Up you go, it's your turn."

Eddie needs help getting on his feet, but thankfully, his husband doesn't mind. On the contrary, he seems to find Eddie's useless state amusing.

"My little rag doll," he chuckles as he hauls his wife onto the counter. 

Eddie whines at the feeling of cold stone against his bare and aching ass. He gets a soft kiss on his dazed smile and braces his husband's shoulders when he dives between his legs to finish him off. 

He hits his husband's throat once, twice, before letting out a silent scream of pleasure. Steve doesn't let any of it spill out, like all of his wife was precious and worth keeping. He looks up at him lovingly, kissing his thigh.

"My favorite dessert," he says, making Eddie giggle. He stands up and moves his legs to wrap around his waist. Eddie's grip is weak, but he braces his ass, knowing he can hold his beautiful rag doll up. "I bet you're tired from doing nothing all day, huh?" Eddie nods with a pout. "Want to join me for a nap?" he asks and gets an enthusiastic nod. He turns around to carry him to the bedroom, but Eddie makes a tiny sound of protest.

"What was that?"

Eddie whines.

"Gotta clean," he slurs, eyes focusing on the sticky imprint of his ass on the counter.

"Don't worry about it, honey. I'll get it in a second," Steve promises, turning to kiss his nose. "You're off duty until round two."

[dicey-booz]

Sub!Brat!Eddie would be bragging to people how he’s the best Dom in bed while your over on the other side of him smiling to yourself as you remind of him last night tied up with cum his stomach and thighs. His drooling face as he whimpered out begs,apologies,anything so that you can touch him again

Just a thot

[no-context-nonsense]

Pretend this was posted on Saturday.

[oneforthemunny]

all dressed up |mafia!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: eddie won't come to a halloween party with you, so you decide to go by yourself... in a costume you know he won't approve of. based off of this prompt :) thank you to whoever sent it in! you can read the rest of my spooky stories series here!

contains: smut. minors dni. language. dom/sub themes- really dom/brat themes lol. all pre-consented ofc. spanking, oral (fem receiving), p in v sex. daddy kink. eddie's a little more of a hard dom in this. mafia themes but nothing graphic.

You saw the mess of curls move behind you once, then again, snapping towards your frame with a fury that had you fighting back a shiver, trying to remain casual and unbothered, applying your lipstick on in the large vanity mirror.

"What are you wearing?"

Your lips pursed, rolling them to keep your own triumphant grin back. His tone, the sharpness and snapping of his words, eyes still boring at you through the mirror; you had him right where you wanted.

"A costume." You hummed, so casual it made Eddie's head spin. Your eyes finally met his in the mirror, calm and vacant of the usual bratty, defiant glare he was expecting. "It's Halloween, Ed. You're supposed to wear a costume."

Eddie's snort follows before you can finish your sentence, posture straightening just enough to look menacing, his own expression still calm but entirely unimpressed. "So you chose to wear that, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, dramatic enough that you were sure he saw it- you wanted him to. "What's that supposed to mean?" You eyes narrowed, meeting his challengingly through them mirror, though you didn't turn around to face him.

Eddie nodded slowly, no signs of aggravation, or irritation even at your snarly mood. "Stand up f'me." His voice hardened, slipping into commanding that had your body jolting, eager to please. "Let me get a good look at you. See the whole thing."

You scoffed, despite the rush of excitement that was flooding red hot through your entire body, pushing your small stool back from the vanity. The dress barely covered your ass, resting just below the swell- dangerously short. Eddie's chest roared with possessive furious heat at the thought of you bending over, showing anyone what was between your legs, what belonged to him.

"You look pretty, baby." He didn't miss the way your shoulders fell, slumped with shocked disappointment. "What are you supposed to be?"

"I'm an angel." You batted your eyes sweetly, a purr to your tone that had Eddie's heart jumping.

"You sure are." Eddie matched your tone, effortlessly flirtatious, lips curling in a half grin.

"I don't have my wings and my halo on yet." You smoothed the white material of your dress down, smoothing out a wrinkle.

"You don't have your dress on either, do you?" Eddie cooed, his tone soft and light. You almost missed his question.

"Yeah I do." You frowned, looking down at your dress. "This is what I'm wearing."

"Oh, baby," Eddie laughed softly, shaking his head. "That's cute, but you're not going out in that."

"Yes, I am." Your voice was fierce, already snapping with fight.

"C'mon," Eddie scoffed with a slight smirk, rolling his eyes lightly like you were so silly, like it was a teasing joke you were playing on him. "You're not wearin' that out, sweet thing. Especially not with me not around. Go on and change into something else."

"I'm not changing." You huffed, nose scrunching with annoyance. "I'm wearing this, and if you don't want me wearing it without you, then you should come. Like you said you would."

Eddie nodded slowly, tongue rolling down the side of his cheek. "I told you, baby, I can't come tonight-"

"-You don't want to come tonight." You snapped. "There's a difference."

"Hm," Eddie hummed, exhaling slowly, eyes still on you so fiercely you were beginning to squirm.

"You said you would come, Ed." Your voice teetered off into a whine, turning to him with pleading eyes.

The same fight you'd had for the past week, since Eddie pulled out of going to Nancy and Jonathan's Halloween party with you, claiming he was "too busy". You knew the truth. That he was uncomfortable being around your friends, people who might judge him, side eye him with fear when he came in.

"No one's going to care that you're there. You're coming with me." You pleaded, trying to rationalize with him.

"I told you, I'm busy." Eddie's tone clipped with harshness, eyes scanning over your frame.

Your lips pressed together, arms crossing over your chest in fury. "Fine." You snapped. "But I'm not changing."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not." You growled. "I like what I'm wearing, and I think other people will like it too." It was a low blow, one that you knew was risky, might send Eddie over the edge and break his calm exterior- which was exactly what you wanted.

He knew that, which is why he swallowed back the commanding bark in his throat, though you didn't miss the way his nostrils flared.

Nails tapping against your folded arms, your lips twisted. "I thought you'd like what I had on, too." Your tone was still harsh, but filled with an edge of a sultry purr at the end, hands sliding down your hips suggestively. "I thought you liked it when I dressed up for you."

You were definitely playing dirty now, you both knew it. But Eddie allowed it, allowed you to walk towards him, straddling his lap, legs spread and on either side of his spread thighs so your dress rode up, exposing the tiny, lacy white g-string underneath.

"Thought you liked it when I wore a little costume, hm?" Your nose was brushing his, lips tickling when they ghosted over his.

His jaw clenched to keep himself from breaking, to keep from kissing you and pinning you to the mattress, fucking you until you were a pliant mess under him, knees knocking when you walked afterwards, still leaking him down your thighs.

"I do like it." Eddie's voice was strained, swallowing back a flustered shake. "Love it when you dress up f'me, you know that."

You hummed, soft and airy, your hands wrapped around his neck, nails raking over his skin. "So come with me tonight. See me all dressed up." Your lips brushed over his, just light enough to drive him wild, have his hands twitching.

"You don't even have to dress up, Ed. Just come with me." You grinned, nipping at his bottom lip, smug at how his breath hitched. "I'll be dressed up enough for the both of us."

"Not in that dress, you won't." Eddie's eyes met yours, hard with challenge. "Told you, you're not wearing that dress out."

You blinked at him, scoffing before pushing back, sitting back on the tops of his thighs. Eddie couldn't help but look under your parted legs, lacy panties fully on display and barely covering your slit.

"Yeah? You won't be there to stop me from wearing it." You snarled, pulling your legs down onto the red carpet beneath you with a stomp.

"I'll wear whatever I want." You growled, standing between Eddie's legs, pushing the dress back down and into place, smoothing out the wrinkles. Your gaze met his, eyes narrowed with anger, a gentle snarl on your lips that told him your were about to say something mean.

"Maybe I'll find someone there who actually appreciates my costume." You turned with a scoff, barely stepping out from between Eddie's legs before a strong hand caught your wrist, yanking you back towards him.

A gasp tore from your chest, shocking realization flooding your system as Eddie hauled you over his knee, pinning each of your wrists to the small of your with his hand effortlessly.

"Wait! Wait! Eddie-" You squirmed frantically, trying to loosen his grip while he wasted no time shoving your dress up, leaving you bare in your tiny panties.

"Wait, no, I-I'll change, Ed. I was just- oh!" You squealed at the impact, his hand leaving a stinging impact on your left ass cheek.

Eddie didn't lecture you, didn't coo at you until you were sniffly and babbling while he spanked you. Instead, he stayed silent. delivering thundering hits to your backside, heavily focusing on the underside where your thighs met your ass- where he knew people could see the lasting handprints in your dress. It was calculated and mean, left your sniffling and wailing with each hit, shamelessly soaked and grinding onto his leg.

"I'll change! I'll change my outfit!" You wailed, hips lifting and thrashing to the right, trying to twist and avoid his burning assault on your ass.

"Stop it, Ed! I said I'll change!" You huffed, stomping your foot onto the ground, bratty and demanding. Eddie's cock strained behind his dress pants at the sound, delivering another hard spank to the center of your ass, that echoed through the room with a resounding clap.

"Stooop!" You whined, high pitched and nasally, wriggling in his grip. "You're gonna r-ruin my makeup!" You could feel the prickling of a sob threatening to take over, a floodgate that would be much worse than the few tears that had already slipped out.

"I'll be good! I'll change my dress! Ok? I will, Ed!" You howled at the next two blows, leaving your spine arching, lifting off the silk sheets.

"Look at me." Eddie finally spoke in a gravelly growl, his free hand catching your jaw, holding you up to look at him. Your eyes shifted to his, blinking back tears and fighting back wet, pitiful sniffles.

"You gonna listen to me now? Ready to be good for me?" Eddie's voice still wasn't in it's usual coo, but softer than before, leaving your lip wobbling.

"Yes," Your voice squeaked, teary though you tried to fight it.

"What do you say to Daddy?" Eddie lifted a brow, sternness still in his features. "For being so mean before, what do you say? Hm? What do good girls say when they've been mean and bad?"

"'M sorry." You muttered, eyes dropping from his gaze with bashful shame.

"Look at me." Eddie growled, hand tightening around your jaw lightly. "You know better. Need me to take you in the office, hm? Go get the paddle?"

"No," You tried to shake your head, stiffened by his grasp.

"Then what do you say? Let me hear you, loud and clear. And you better keep those eyes on me when you say it. You know how you're supposed to do it." Eddie's voice was harsh, enough to leave you shaking with fear and pleasure, throbbing between your legs. He didn't miss the way your hips rocked down on his leg when he spoke to you.

"I-I'm sorry." Your pitch raised, voice wobbling when you spoke up, your eyes locked on his. "I won't be mean anymore, Daddy. I'll be good. I-I promise."

Eddie hummed, satisfied, his grip loosening on your cheeks, letting go of your hands. Your arms ached, wrist rubbed sore from the chafing of skin on skin. Eddie settled you back, perched on the edge of his thigh, fighting back a grin when you hissed at your raw backside touching his pants.

"That's a good girl. That's my good girl." Eddie cooed softly, pulling you into his chest, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. "You know I hate having to be mean to you like that, but you have to listen to my rules, baby."

"I-I know." Your hiccupy voice was soft, chest heaving with a cry you were still trying to swallow. "I just... I really want you to come with me tonight, Ed." You squeaked, tilting your head back to look at him.

"I know you don't want to, but... it would mean a lot to me if you did." You whispered, fingers nervously toying with the edge of his shirt. "I just want to be with you and my friends. I don't-I don't like it having to be separate all the time. I just want one night where- where it feels normal."

Eddie's chest ached, pulling you closer to him. He was going soft, he was sure of it. Soft and ruined completely by you- not that he minded.

"I'll go with you tonight." Eddie hesitated, eyes flickering down to yours carefully, watching yours fill with excitement, lighting up at his words. "But, I'm having Gareth and Max wait outside. In case any shit happens-"

"-It won't-"

"-Just incase." Eddie cut you off, giving you a pointed look that had you nodding, curling back into his hold. "And, you're still changing."

You bit back a smile, nodding. "Yeah, probably can't wear this now." You giggled lightly. "Kinda ruined it."

"Oh, sweetheart, I haven't ruined it yet." Eddie grinned, hand squeezing your waist just to hear you squeal before he flipped you back onto the bed, hovering over you.

"I do like this costume." His lips hovered over yours, curls from his bangs tickling your own forehead, leaving you squirming.

"But I think I want it," His lips pressed to yours, a full kiss that lasted far too shortly for your liking, eyes barely closing in pleasure before he pulled back.

"All," Kiss.

"To," Kiss.

"Myself."

You whined into his mouth, his thigh strategically moving between your legs, bumping with your clothed pussy, teasingly.

"You think you can do that for me?" Eddie's breath ghosted over your lips, dragging over your cheek, pressing a hot, wet kiss to the corner of your mouth. "Think this can be just f'me, baby?"

"Mm-hmm." You whimpered, hands sliding over his shoulders, pulling him back towards you, closer and closer. "Just for you."

"Just for me." Eddie grinned, pressing a kiss to your jaw, teeth grazing barely, leaving you jumping with excitement.

"You do look so pretty though. My pretty girl, always." Eddie praised softly, pushing off the mattress to look at you fully. You whined, fist balling around his shirt, trying to keep him close, flush to you.

Eddie batted them away gently, his hands sliding down your frame to your legs, wrapped around his waist, spreading them gently. "I do think you should keep on these," Eddie rasped, finger tracing over your clothed slit, down the seam of your panties while you arched into his touch, desperate for more.

"Please, Ed, please." You begged, mind already spacing with needy pleasure.

"Shh, I got you, baby. I'll take care of you." Eddie soothed you gently, hands cupping under your knees, pushing your thighs back to your chest. "I've got you, sweet thing. Just hold your legs up f'me. Can you do that?"

You nodded eagerly, shaking hands grabbing at your kneecaps, jerking them towards your chest in a tight grip. Eddie grinned, sliding down your frame, knees sinking into the carpet. "Good girl." Eddie growled, hands on your waist, dragging you to the edge of the bed, grinning at how you gasped.

His fingers ghosted over your slit again, pressing in and giving a gentle, teasing rub over your aching clit that had you crying out, nails digging into your skin before he finally hooked your panties to the side. Tongue tracing down one lip, down the other, then right to the middle, just a featherlight, teasing that had you squirming in frustration.

You were close to voicing your frustration, the whine caught in your throat when Eddie's face pressed into your cunt, nose brushing with your clit, tongue lapping at your folds. Your hands moved to his hair, pulling him in closer and closer, hips swiveling down, pressing further and further into him. He didn't stop until you were crying out, breathy and broken, babbling on and on, "'m gonna cum, E-Eddie, I'm- oh!" music to his ears.

"Look at you," Eddie cooed, stilling himself when he filled you, stuffed full of his cock, grinning at the glassy, love stricken look in your eye. "You are an angel, hm? The prettiest fuckin' angel I've ever seen."

Nails sinking into the mattress, you balled the silk sheets in your hand as he started to move, slow but deep rolls of his hips into yours. "I-I don't have my wings on." You babbled brainlessly, mind spinning and reeling with pleasure. "O-Or my- oh! Right there, Ed- Or my halo."

"Don't need it." Eddie sucked a breath in between gritted teeth, his strokes coming faster now, sending your eyes rolling back.

"You're always an angel. Prettiest- fuck- prettiest angel in the world. My pretty angel." Eddie reached for your chin, grabbing it so you looked at him through fluttering lashes. "You're my pretty girl. You know that? You know it, don't you, baby?"

"Ye-Yes." You clenched at his words, and for a moment, he saw stars, letting out a deep groan of pleasure.

"Let me hear you." Eddie's grip tightened around your jaw. "I wanna hear you say it. Say you're my pretty girl."

"I-I'm yours, Ed." Your head tilted back, tummy tightening as you teetered closer and closer to your orgasm.

The small slap to your cheek had you gasping, attention pulled back to Eddie. His brows furrowed, lips in a tight, concentrated line. "That's not what I said." Eddie shook his head. "Thought you were gonna listen to Daddy?"

"I-I am." You whined, legs wrapping around his waist, pulling Eddie in closer to you.

"Then do what I said." Eddie tilted his head towards you, looking down the slope of his nose at you. "Say it. I wanna hear you."

You bit back a whimper, gasping at a particularly perfect stroke that had your vision blurring. "I-I'm you're pretty girl."

"Who's pretty girl?" Eddie coaxed, the pad of his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. His breath ragged, chest starting to heave- you knew he was close too.

"Y-Yours." You choked out, tears of pleasure brimming your waterline.

"That's right." Eddie growled, folding himself over top of you, lips catching yours in a sloppy kiss. His hand slid between your bodies, circling your clit just right until you were writhing, scratching down his skin as you came undone, his own release following shortly after.

You were late to the party.

Not that either of you minded, really. And it wasn't like anyone there dared to say anything either. Even Nancy, who just gave you a wide smile when she opened the door.

"You made it!" She squealed, pulling you into a hug.

"Yeah, sorry. We had to take the dogs out." You lied easily, eyes cutting over to Eddie's with a small smile.

Nancy's brow raised gently, though she said nothing. "H-Hey, Eddie." You didn't miss the way her grip tightened on the door, opening it wider so you two could walk in. "Glad you could come."

"Yeah. Thanks for havin' me." Eddie nodded, stiff with an unusual uncomfortableness. He felt awkward being in his street clothes- ripped jeans and chains, a band tee (a Dio shirt you claimed would be perfect- "a devil and an angel!"), instead of the usual designer wear he'd grown so accustomed to. He felt truly back in high school, just as nervous as he was then.

Your hand slid down the leather of his jacket, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "Um, well, drinks and snacks are in the kitchen- you know where the kitchen is." Nancy looked at you with a nod, the music growing louder and louder as soon as you entered the house.

You followed her through the house, passing by the numerous people, ignoring how they'd stop, still, eyes wide and stare when Eddie passed, whispering in shushed tones behind your back.

"Help yourself to whatever." Nancy smiled, motioning to the array of alcohol. "I got you Bacardi Breezers, a whole pack." She gave you a teasing smile.

You laughed back, shaking your head, giving a slight shiver. "Oh, great. It'll be just like senior year all over again." You smirked. Eddie's interest piqued, though he kept his gaze nonchalant, scanning the room, making a mental note to ask you about that later.

"I'm gonna go make sure no one's broke anything, but I'll be right back." Nancy nodded, giving your arms a gentle squeeze, before shimmying through the crowds of people.

"You want anything?" You asked, reaching for the colorful glass bottle out of the pack.

"No." Eddie shook his head.

"Not even a beer?" You lifted a brow, turning back to him. "They have Miller."

"I'm good, baby." Eddie nodded sweetly, eyes catching with a guy who was staring, narrowing his gaze just barely before he looked aways. "You get whatever you want."

You looked over at him, twisting the bottle in your hand. "Can you open this?"

Eddie obliged, of course, cracking it on his belt buckle- a trick he learned from years ago, from when he still saw half of these people every day in the hell that was high school.

You took him to the living room, finding a corner tucked away from the beer pong set up in the middle, the people drunkenly dancing and chatting.

Eddie sat down in the small arm chair, hand around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You hissed, face crumpling for a moment, wiggling to a comfortable spot.

"You hurting?" Eddie frowned, head ducking towards you.

"No, I just forgot." You muttered, bashfully. "I'm fine."

"You'd tell me if you weren't?" Eddie lifted a brow.

"You know I would." You smiled reassuringly, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"I think I like this dress better." You looked down at the long, silk, white dress you'd swapped the other out for. "Looks more angelic."

"Anything you put on looks angelic, baby." Eddie grinned playfully, positively sweet and silly. His face fell after a moment, scanning the room, looking to make sure no one was watching- he couldn't dare have someone see him like this, boyish and silly and so, so in love.

You giggled, pressing the bottle to your lips, taking a quick swig. "Thank you for coming with me." You hummed, leaning your head on his shoulder, the feathers of your halo headpiece tickling chin.

"C'mon," Eddie muttered lightly, squeezing your hip. "Do anything for you, baby."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Eddie nodded, looking down at you. "You've ruined me. Made me soft."

You giggled, pulling back to look at him. "Is that a bad thing?"

"For you? No." Eddie grinned softly. "Best thing that's ever happened to me. You know that."

You beamed under his praise, hands grabbing his cheeks, pulling him into a sloppy make out right there in the corner of the party, and Eddie felt like he was sixteen again.

"You're so sweet." You hummed, starry eyed and airy when you pulled apart. "So good to me."

"You deserve it." Eddie muttered, cheeks pricking with a heat he couldn't fight off. "Plus, this isn't all bad. Better than I thought it would be." He looked around the room. You both seemed to blend in, get lost in the crowd now, everyone else doing their own thing while you watched.

"Really?" You grinned widely. "Told you it would be fun."

"Yeah, you were right." Eddie nodded, eyes rolling down your frame. "Plus you were right, I do love to see you in a costume." He growled, leaving you squealing with giggles.

[hawkinsbnbg]

O!Steve who kept slipping his used panties into Eddie's locker because he wanted to catch the poor alpha's attention.

There might be a better way to do it but Steve had listened to the little demon inside his head and became a menace instead.

"It's not attractive for an omega to be so bold," advised Tommy.

"Don't listen to him, babe, it's gonna work out just fine," assured Carol.

"But it's Munson so I'd say you should be careful, Dingus," warned Robin.

Not a week later, his wish was granted when Eddie finally cornered him and brought him back to Munson Trailer.

True to Robin's words, Steve had paid for his little trouble by having his pussy spanked until he cried and begged for the alpha to stop.

"Still wanna be a minx?" Eddie pushed two fingers inside and started fucking him with them.

"N– Nuh uh," Steve shook his head frantically, shaking and drooling at the painful pleasure. "Gonna be– hmp– gonna be good, alpha."

Eddie laughed meanly at him as if he knew Steve would act up again. He was definitely right about that.

Because after riding Eddie's knot all night long, Steve was back to his business once more.

But this time, he decided to give his alpha courting gifts. And better yet? They were photos of him with his beloved dildos.

He hoped Eddie would snap and make him scream until his throat was ruined.

[ghost-proofbaby]

ghost… hear me out.

what about perv!tattoo artist eddie 👁️👄👁️

like you’re good friends, have been for a long time but he wants you so bad. so when you finally start coming to him for some work he nearly loses his damn mind. and you want him just as bad obvi

but say you’re getting something on your collarbone, and you really should sit on his lap for this one. just so he can get all those intricate details perfect, yeah?

or like you mentioned getting an ass/hip piece done. and you know he really should help you check on it during the healing process, any good friend would do that right?

sorry omg my mind started going crazy thinking about this i’ll shut up now

never shut up, nonnie. this is the shit i live for.

i see your vision and raise you a new conglomeration of all the sinning i’ve flooded my page with the last 24 hours: perv!tattoo artist!eddie who works tirelessly to convince you to let him do your hip/ass tattoo. begs and begs and begs. draws up 5+ designs, all catered to all your wants and needs.

and he’s good. he’s your friend. you’d be getting an insane discount.

so you’d finally agree, seeing absolutely no downside, the style he was offering being similar enough to that original artist you were going to book. and it’s better this way, of course, since eddie has his private studio versus the shop you would have gone to instead. when you strip down to nothing but a thong, when the teeny straps of it are being shoved out of every which way for him to expose the necessary skin, when you feel the first chill from his hands brushing over the back of your thigh that you convince yourself is due to exposure and not just because it’s him - you’re gonna be grateful it’s just you and eddie in the room.

when the pain of the needle has you somehow simultaneously wincing and letting out little whimpers, because have you always had a pain kink? or is it just the man behind the needle?, you’ll be thanking the universe you chose to go with the intimate setting and your best friend rather than some wide open space and a stranger.

and when that first good girl falls from his lips, more praises of how you’re doing so good for him following, you’re going to be grateful it’s only eddie and those four walls to witness the way you’re looking at your best friend.

eddie’s grateful, too. no one else needs to hear how pretty you sound for him. not yet. not when he hasn’t even touched you properly yet.

not when he’s just getting started.

[dark-authorr]

𝗧𝗛𝗥𝗘𝗘 𝗧𝗬𝗣𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗕𝗟𝗘

pairing: dark!steve harrington x dark!eddie munson x dark!billy hargrove x drunk!reader

request: could you write about Eddie, Steve and Billy having a three some with reader after she gets the jealous? cnc if you’re comfortable - @luckygalaxysuit

warnings: heavy drinking, kiss, trapped, unwanted neck kisses, hair pulling, “kidnapping”, forced oral (male receives), gagging, choking, crying, forced double penetration, ass slapping, forced group sex, etc.

note: send in a bunch of requests for any character of any movie, series, and we will do our best to write about them. ONLY DARK!

like, comment, reblog, and follow us!

———

“You likin’ the party new girl?” Jason asked y/n after walking into his kitchen. “Yes, actually,” Y/n smiled as she poured her drink. “Maybe you should come to them more often,” he smiled back at her as he came up to get his drink.

“Maybe I should,” she couldn’t stop herself from showing teeth. Jason has always been sweet to her. She was surprised when the man invited her, and now he wants to invite her to future parties.

Throughout the night, y/n drank and laughed with Jason. He even took her to the dance floor to dance. She wouldn’t say she loved Jason, but she did love his attention.

“I’ll be right back,” Y/n said, turning to leave until he pulled her back. “Where are you going? The party is just getting started,” Jason smiled down at y/n, making her giggle. She felt like this could all be a dream.

“Just going to use the restroom,” Y/n said with a smile. “Get back soon, babe,” the jock said before placing a soft and slow peck on her lips. Once he pulled away and continued dancing with his group of friends.

Y/n wanted to ask him what that was about, but she decided to stay quiet and take it with her as people watched her walk away.

“How’s your night goin?” Y/n heard a voice as soon as she walked out of the bathroom. Y/n looked to see who it was and saw Steve, her long-time on-and-off friend. Well — Study buddy because his grades were never good.

“Oh, hey, Steve! My nights going well so far, and yours?” She asked as he kicked off the wall he was leaning against. “I bet it is. Didn’t know you and Jason were dating,” Steve couldn’t help but mention.

He and the other two had been watching her all night, each second getting harder to witness as she got closer to Jason by the minute.

“Me and Jason? Oh, no, no, we’re just friends,” y/n said as her heart raised a bit. “Didn’t seem that way, princess,” Steve said, flirting as he always does, but y/n had told him he should stop if nothing was going to happen between the two.

Steve was known for going around and being with any girl he wanted, and she didn’t want to be one of those who were marked by Steve Harrington.

“I swear, we’re just friends, I-I don’t know why he kissed me. Maybe he’s just a little drunk, you know?” Y/n said as Steve got closer, body now pressing her into the bathroom door she had closed.

“Sure you aren’t, babe? Seem a bit out of it, don’t you think?” Steve asked, making her feel a small pain in her chest. The way he talked to her with his tone made her feel uncomfortable.

“So what? I can’t drink?” Y/n asked, getting a bit defensive. “Not when you’re a pretty little thing alone,” one of Steve’s hands gripped y/n’s waist to pull her closer to him.

“What are you talking about- Hey, stop that!” Y/n shouted at Steve who began kissing at her neck. “Harrington, stop!” Y/n tried to sound more serious, but that only made him laugh.

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Steve grabbed a hand full of y/n’s hair before pulling her to a room. “The boys can come find me. I’ve got some shit to set straight,” Steve said as he threw y/n into the room and locked the door.

“Steve, what the fuck is wrong with you? Like serious, are you-“ Y/n stood up and yelled at the man but was cut off by him forcing her back down to her knees.

“You know what’s wrong with me? What’s wrong is that you rejected me, but got your legs all open for Jason. A jock!” Steve was pissed, and she was soon going to find out how pissed he was.

“I’m sorry, but you and Jason are two different-“ y/n tried speaking but he yelled at her, telling her to shut up before he got angry. “There’s no excuse for it, y/n. Not one, and you’re gonna sit there and fuckin’ apologies to me,”

Y/n hoped Steve would calm down, but she noticed there was no hope for that when he reached into his pants, pulling his cock out in seconds.

“Steve, no!” Y/n slapped at the legs and stomach, but that didn’t phase him. “Stop movin, y/n,” Steve times came off warning, but she continued to fight.

Sadly, she wasn’t a match for Steve. The man forced his cock down her throat instantly, causing her to gag and cry onto his shaft.

“So damn pretty when you’re like this. If only you weren’t giving me a hard time,” Steve said through his teeth as he snapped his hips, fucking her face so hard, she could barely focus on his face.

“Always prayed for you to go down ok me during study time, but you were so fucking clueless. I even stripped and stayed in my boxers. I was fuckin’ hard, but all you thought was that I was trying to get comfortable. Dumb fucking slut,”

Y/n felt bad for the way she led Steve on, but she could’ve sworn he didn’t even want her.

“Then you got me watching Jason down your throat? Are you fucking serious!?” Steve’s free hand grabbed the side of her head so he could use both of his hands to pull her into his hard thrusts.

“Steve, where the fuck are you!?” Billy yelled in the hallway. “Harrington, I think she’s gone, man. C’mon, we gotta leave to find her,” Eddie said, knocking on every door.

The two had thought he might’ve taken another girl to a room after seeing y/n with Jason, but in actuality, that other girl was y/n.

“In here!” Steve shouted, telling them to come and see this view. “And you won’t believe you I’ve got with me,” Steve said as he kept his cock deep in y/n’s mouth.

“God, don’t tell me it’s Nancy. We don’t fucking care,” Billy said, always annoyed as they stood in front of the door, not wanting to meet eyes with some girl they didn’t care for.

“Want me to give you a hint?” Steve asked before he pulled y/n off of his cock. “Steve, please stop this. Please-“ y/n tried speaking quickly before he pushed back into her mouth. The gag noises sent Billy and Eddie to kick open the door.

“No way!” Billy said as Eddie got up front to the ground he fell on. “Are you serious? Before me!?” Eddie said as he closed the door behind him and tried to lock it, but the lock was broken.

“Nor how I’d like it, but it’ll do,” Steve said, making the boys lift their eyebrows u til they realized her makeup streaming down her face.

“Dude-“ Eddie cut himself off, wanting to confront him, but why would he? Y/n looked the best she’s ever had. Having Steve in her mouth as she cried, made him feel a type of way.

Billy on the other hand couldn’t care at all. All he wanted was a bite of her.

“Don’t worry, princess, I’m close,” Steve assured y/n who prayed this was a dream, but if it was, her throat wouldn’t be hurting so much. This was a live nightmare.

“Let’s get this shit off,” Billy dropped to his knees behind the girl before he ripped her dress apart. The man was strong, and that fabric never stood a chance against him.

“Tits looks a-fucking-mazing,” Eddie said as he got himself undressed, every concern being thrown out of the window. She looked too damn good to pass on.

“Mhm, they sure in the hell are,” Steve said as his thrusts stuttered a bit. “Oh shit,” Eddie laughed as Steve’s eyes shut tight. Y/n pushed at the man’s lower stomach, hoping to get away, but she instantly stopped as she held his liquid shoot down her throat.

Steve pushed y/n off of him after he couldn’t give anymore. She was instantly grabbed by Billy and carried to the nearest bed. After she was thrown down, she felt hands all over her. More than two.

“Stop it!” Y/n tried pushing Eddie and Billy away from her, but they listened or reacted. All they did was put themselves in a position they’d feel most comfortable in.

Y/n was now on top of the two, legs spread on both sides of Billy as Eddie stood behind her. “Don’t get drunk again, princess. Shit like this might not happen to you, then,” Eddie said as he gripped her panties off.

“Please, guys, stop this. I-I don’t- I don’t want this,” she begged the two. Billy rubbed his spot on his cock as she spoke, not caring about anything she had to say. She understood that after he forced himself through her cunt without wanting.

Y/n cried out in pain and pleasure. The knot in her stomach had already built in the lower part of her stomach.

“You’re tight for a nappy bitch,” Billy snapped his hips up as Eddie tried his best to coat his cock with as much cum as he could. He knew this wouldn’t be pretty for her, but he’s always wanted to eat or fuck her ass, and tonight, it was right in front of him. She was begging for it.

“Maybe I should’ve fucked her to hear that voice,” Steve said as he walked over to the bed. Y/n looked away from the man, wanting nothing to do with him, and he knew that. That’s why he rubbed the top of her head.

“Maybe if you weren’t so clueless, we could’ve done this a different way, y/n. If you think about it, this is all fault,” y/n hadn’t noticed how shitty Steve really was until tonight.

“Really getting it all out, huh?” Eddie said as he rubbed some spit along her upper hole. “Yeah — There’s no other way to put this situation,” Steve said, making new tears fill y/n’s eyes.

“Don’t worry, baby — Once I get in you, you’ll forget about his rude little words,” Eddie said as he pushed at y/n’s hole, making her pucker instantly. “N-No,” she said low, hoping he wasn’t doing what she was thinking.

“Ah huh, now relax so I can come in,” Eddie said, hand spreading her ass cheek as the other held his cock in place. “Eddie, no!” Y/n tried moving away, but the more she moved, the more Billy’s thrust under her made her closer to cumming, and she didn’t want to.

“Stop fuckin’ moving, y/n. Fuck,” Eddie grew impatient. Y/n went to cuss at the man or yell but she was cut off by a cry. Her head fell forward as Eddie broke through her upper walls.

“There we go,” Eddie continued pushing into the tightest hole he could fuck. “That’s it, just relax, baby. Relax, and I’ll fill you up in no time,” y/n cried at his words, knowing if they weren’t scared to do this to her, they weren’t scared to fill her.

“P-Please,” was all y/n could let out as her body went slack on top of Billy. “Good girls gonna get filled tonight, that right. Maybe more than once if she keeps squeezing me like this,” Billy said, and before she knew it, she released all over the man.

“Fuck, y/n, look at you!” Steve laughed as Eddie’s hand came down on her ass. “Double penetration is your thing, huh?” Eddie asked, earning a weak head shake and whine from her.

“Oh? Pretty girl hasn’t done any of this yet, huh? Guess we’re her first,” Eddie said as he watched his cock slip in and out of her hole that kept sucking him right back in. “And last,” Billy assured.

[rip-quizilla]

Eat Me

Pairing: Older!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Popstar!Reader

Summary: (TLDR: you perform with Corroded Coffin, act like a brat the whole time, and Eddie makes you pay for it.) Two years after your hiatus from the music industry, you're back and all grown up now. After collaborating with early 2000's metal sensation Corroded Coffin for several songs off your new album, you debut the new tracks live in a surprise performance with the band during their tour- and the tension between you and frontman Eddie Munson is so thick, you're barely able to keep your pants on throughout the set. (Songs referenced are by Demi Lovato from her album HOLY FVCK, which inspired this fic. I highly suggest listening to the songs "Eat Me" and "Freak" while they're performed in the story for the complete experience!)

Word Count: 14K

Tags: 🔥SMUT, age gap (reader is 27, Eddie is 47), Reader is a brat (Eddie can handle it), fingering, squirting, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap up!!), light degradation, reader has blue hair, reader is a grown-up child star, for the purposes of this fic Corroded Coffin started in the 90s instead of 80s for timeline reasons

🖤🖤🖤

You had no fucking clue what you were doing. 

It had been two years since you’d put out music. Two. Years. That’s enough time for a person’s relevance to crawl into a hole and die, which is something you had been strongly considering doing for the duration of those two years. 

It was a tale as old as time- child star grows up. Child star is not a child anymore, but the world only wants the star to be a child, so if the star wants to keep being a star, they do not. grow. up. 

But you grew up, and guess what happened? 

The world hated you for it. 

So you stopped trying to be a star. You’d dropped off the face of the earth and deleted every social media app from your phone. You’d bought a house in the mountains, and thanks to modern technologies like Amazon and DoorDash, you basically never had to leave. It was a little scary how easily you had become a hermit living in a cabin in the woods. Your life quickly became a never ending cycle of reading, binge-watching tv, and dying/cutting your hair whenever the mood struck (The latest spontaneous color change had left you with a surprisingly pretty shade of faded blue).

It was easy, running away… until it caught up with you.

After all, at your core you had always been a performer. From your first audition at five years old to your big break at twelve, to the first album you’d put out on your television network’s record label- you had always been a person who had something to say and craved an audience to hear it. When your audience had turned on you, it had jolted your rhythm enough that you forgot the words to a song you’d been singing as long as you could remember. 

It had taken you a couple years, but eventually you figured out that when you play the same song on repeat for long enough, it gets old. 

So you wrote a new song. 

To be more precise, you wrote a whole album. Literally. 

Some of the songs were composed, some still needed a tune, but the message of the album was clear: I’m not that little girl on your TV screen anymore. You don’t have to like it, but you sure as hell can’t change it. 

The minute you’d figured that out, you’d called your team. Once they understood the direction your career was headed, they helped get everything in order for your re-entry into the fray that had driven you out in the first place. 

There was only one part of the album that made you nervous. 

I know two years doesn’t seem like that long, your agent had said, but the public eye doesn’t have a very impressive attention span. You only have half of the album composed, right? This is the perfect opportunity to make the other half of the songs collaborations with artists that are in the public eye! 

The idea made sense. Their popularity helps you, and if the songs go over well, then it helps the other artists too. The only issue was that these songs were way more vulnerable than what you used to write… hell, half the songs you’d recorded before your hiatus were written by whatever run of the mill joe schmo had gotten the kid-friendly execs’ stamp of approval. Even when you’d split from the network after turning twenty-three, you’d kept your songs strictly PG-rated since you knew the majority of your audience were minors. These new songs, though… 

You weren’t an idiot. The themes of these songs were not subtle. Anyone who listened to these new songs was going to see a side of you that wasn’t all that pretty. Were you ready for that? Were you ready to bare that darkness to not only the world, but to other artists who meant to help you make music out of it?

Your anxiety about the album had gotten even worse when your agent had given you the list of potential collaborators.

 One song that you were particularly proud of called “Eat Me” had some very metal undertones to it, so you’d told your agent that you’d like to collaborate with a metal band or artist to compose the music that would match the lyrics. Almost immediately, your agent had suggested a collaboration with Corroded Coffin.

The band had been HUGE when you were a kid, topping charts throughout your childhood and making a name for themselves as one of the most culturally relevant turn-of-the-century metal bands. Even now, they were a household name. Your older brother had been a huge fan, so you’d actually listened to their music quite a lot growing up. They weren’t some random collaboration- if Corroded Coffin read your lyrics (which were basically your soul laid out on display) and thought they were shit? It might just send you spiraling right back to your cabin in the mountains. 

You had been equal parts thrilled and terrified when your agent told you they’d agreed to collaborate on the song.

Currently, you were sitting in your home-away-from-home, a cozy apartment that you rented on a month-to-month basis whenever you needed to be in New York, which just so happened to be where Eddie Munson, lead singer/guitarist of Corroded Coffin had asked to meet with you. It was your album, so you had invited him to come to your place and discuss his ideas for the song. You shifted nervously on your couch and glanced at the time on your phone. He was ten minutes late- that shouldn’t bother you, a lot of musicians had a habit of running late. Just because you didn’t subscribe to that stereotype didn’t mean you had to judge him for doing the opposite. 

When you finally heard the buzz of your doorbell, you practically hopped off the couch. You peeped through the little door viewer to catch a glimpse before you had to look one of your childhood heroes in the eye. You… you hadn’t been adequately prepared to see this. 

Eddie Munson had been attractive in his hay day- you could admit that. You’d seen the pictures of him on their album covers, the press photos, the magazines… he had always been cute in a scruffy sort of way. You hadn’t bothered Googling what he looked like now, which you were currently regretting since you had not been adequately prepared for the father of all DILFs to be standing on your doorstep. 

After doing some quick math, you came to the conclusion that Eddie Munson must be in his mid to late forties at this point. His hair was still long and curly and thick as hell, but you noticed other details that you distinctly remembered were not present on the album covers you remember from your brother’s CD collection- dark, whiskery shadow along his cheeks and jawline. Tattoos creeping up from the collar of the crew neck shirt he wore, as well as every inch of his arms. A nose ring. Smile lines. Soft creases forming between thick brown eyebrows. 

Eyebrows drawing together in confusion because you weren’t opening the door. 

Shit. You inhaled sharply and hastily made to open the door. Breathe, you instructed yourself, taking a moment to blow out a semi-relaxing breath before turning the doorknob and plastering on your best entertainment industry smile.

“Hi!” you said, a little too peppy- you knew you sounded too peppy because the rockstar in front of you actually flinched when your high-pitched sorority girl voice slapped him in the face. “Sorry, I think I’m a little caffeine-riddled, I just finished my third cup of coffee.” You said apologetically, swinging the door open wider for him to step through the threshold into your apartment. 

“Too many frappuccinos there, huh popstar?” His voice… if it hadn’t been so condescending, you might have melted on the spot. Your pride, however, had to argue with your clenching thighs. 

“Uhm, no-” you laughed, keeping your voice airy as you shut the door and leaned back on it to ensure it was closed. “-just cold brew, rockstar.” You couldn’t help but add that quip at the end, seeing how he had just called you popstar like it was the same as calling someone a pussy or a wimp. What was his deal?

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, arms crossed over his chest, and then turned back as if you hadn’t said anything at all. He simply sauntered through the hallway to your living room, where you had laid all the necessary materials for your composing process across the coffee table- but he wasn’t looking at that. He seemed to be inspecting your walls, the decor, the old pictures that sat in frames on your floating shelves, the records you had displayed above your turntable. His eyes surveyed everything like he was a judge at a fucking science fair, and your heart was starting to race as you started to irrationally wonder if you fell short of his expectations or something.

“Ahem,” you cleared your throat to get his attention. 

He turned to face you, irritation flashing across his expression like a cloud blowing past the sun. You took a breath. Calm down, you chided yourself mentally, he’s probably just a prick, don’t take it personally. Be professional. 

“Can I get you something to drink?” You chirped politely, to which he smirked and shook his head.

“Don’t trouble yourself, sweetheart.” 

You bristled; sweetheart? Who did he think he was, Don Draper? Was this the 1950’s? Were you his fucking secretary? Your blood pressure rose by the second. 

“Hm.” you respond, chewing your lip to keep a snarky response to yourself. “Well, we can go ahead and get started if you want.” You gestured to the pages strewn across the coffee table. Notebook pages with your lyrics written out in black pen, empty pages of sheet music that you planned to fill out with a melody to coincide with your words as the morning went on. Your acoustic guitar sat securely in its stand beside the couch, eagerly awaiting your hands to make the message in your music come alive.

Munson sunk into the cushions of your leather couch, manspreading enough to make you feel like a guest in your own apartment. His forearms rested on the thighs of his ripped charcoal jeans as he surveyed the pages before him. He grabbed the notebook page full of lyrics first, chuckling when he saw the title. 

“Eat Me, huh?” he raised an eyebrow at you, and the way he was holding the page between the two of you left only the top half of his face visible from where you sat. You noted that Eddie Munson had extremely expressive eyes. “That’s a pretty evocative title for such a squeaky-clean ‘lil diva.”

Your brow furrowed. “That’s kind of the point.” Using your pointer finger to pull the page down, the bottom half of the rockstar’s face coming into view and spiking your blood pressure again when you saw that fucking smirk still on his face. 

That’s it. This guy is an ass.

“Maybe my agent didn’t accurately portray my vision for this album,” you said, struggling to grit out the words without coming across angry. “If that’s the case, I’m very sorry we got our wires crossed.” 

Ready to listen, Munson leaned back into your couch and crossed one booted foot over his knee, an arm thrown across the top of your couch cushions. The picture of nonchalance. 

Cocky bastard. 

“I’m not sure if you’re aware, but I haven’t put any music out in over two years.” you began. “This isn’t just a new album for me- it's more like a debut album for the new direction I want to take my career in. Up until now, I’ve been portraying a very different side of myself that…if I’m being honest, it wasn’t really me. It was childish and immature and I…” 

You huffed out a heavy, frustrated sigh. “-I can’t do it anymore, I can’t keep being a kid, I’m twenty-fucking-seven years old, for god’s sake.” the rockstar’s eyebrows jumped up at hearing your expletive, obviously amused.

What the fuck? Here you were, being vulnerable with a complete stranger, and he thought it was amusing? You half expected him to laugh, but you brushed past it and decided to ignore this asshole being even more of an asshole. 

“What I’m trying to say is this is a very personal album for me. It’s very different from what I’ve been putting out, and that is very much the point. Does that make sense?” 

You watched as he slowly nodded his head, mulling over your words. “So…it’s like a coming of age thing?” he ventured, “Like, ‘little girl’s all grown up and sexy now’ all that?” his mouth turned up at one corner. “How very Miley Cyrus of you, sweetheart.”

You scoffed, physically recoiling a bit. “Are you being serious right now?” you balked. 

He shrugged. 

Oh, you fumed, that is it. Fuck this guy.

You stood from the couch, finally snapping after holding yourself back from giving this asshat a piece of your mind. “What is your problem?” Munson’s smirk faded a bit, but his smug air remained intact as he stared up at you. 

“Look sweetheart-”

“No.” you cut him off, stopping him with a hand in the air. “Stop calling me sweetheart like you know me or like that isn’t a condescending fucking way to speak to someone. You have done nothing but talk down to me since you walked through that door, so no, you do not get to talk to me like that, I don’t care how famous you are.”

There wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face now, and you took pride in that. Maybe there was a conscience in there somewhere that was telling him I told you so right now.

You took the page from his hands and held it up for emphasis. “If you had just read my fucking song before making assumptions, then maybe you would have understood that this song is actually a social commentary on people like you who assume the direct trajectory of a child star’s career is to go from cute and childish to sexy ‘girls gone wild’ or whatever the fuck.” you spat, practically shaking the paper in your hand. “I’m allowed to grow into whoever I damn well please, and that’s exactly what this song is about. If I want to write a song about sex- and I’ve written a few, they’re on the fucking album- I’ll write them because that’s what I want to write! I’m not doing it for shock value or because I like attention; hell, I’ve been a literal hermit in the woods for two years, I don’t give a fuck about attention!”

You finally paused to breathe, and you knew your eyes must look absolutely insane because the man before you genuinely looked terrified. 

Steeling yourself, you inhaled and exhaled slowly, attempting to push down some of that hysteria. “Sorry.” you bit, “Didn’t mean to unload all that on you. It’s just… this song is a part of me, and you just belittled it without even reading past the title.” You looked him directly in those big brown eyes and thought- hoped- for a second that you saw understanding in his gaze. “That was shitty. I’m not letting other people make me feel like shit anymore.” 

When you were finished, silence took over. It settled over the room like a reprieve from a short but heavy rainfall before the sun showed itself again. Suddenly, Eddie Munson stood from your couch and marched to your door, letting himself out with a sharp click of your doorknob latching closed. 

Okay. That went well. The lead singer of one of the most famous metal bands just came to your apartment, got yelled at, and ran away. You were just starting to ponder how you would explain this one to your publicist before you heard a knock at your door. Tentatively, you opened it- you didn’t need to look through the peephole to know who it was. 

Eddie Munson stood at your door wearing an expression that you hadn’t seen yet today- he looked open, compassionate, and sorry. One hand in his pocket with the other outstretched, tattoos winding up the expanse of skin, rings glinting light from the sconces on either side of your door. He was offering his hand. 

Smiling slightly, you accepted his gesture. You grasped his ink-scarred hand, feeling the cold metal of his rings press against your skin as you shook it. “It’s lovely to meet you-” he said your name softly, and you realized that when he had entered your apartment earlier, you hadn’t even exchanged pleasantries. Hadn’t introduced yourselves, almost as if fame got rid of the need for normal human introductions. Now, here he was, remedying that.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Mr. Munson,” you said, voice less chipper than it had been when the two of you originally stood in these same spots. “I’m a huge fan.” 

He winced at ‘Mr.’, clapping his other hand over yours tightly. “Please, for the love of god, don’t call me Mr. Munson.” his big brown eyes pleaded with you. “Call me Eddie.”

Your smile widened as you nodded. “Eddie.” you repeated. “Is this you telling me we’re starting over?” 

He let go of your hand, and you felt a sudden chill as the warmth of his skin left yours. “If that’s alright with you?” he replied softly, turning up the end of his sentence like a question. 

Instead of saying yes, you simply stepped back to make room for him in your hallway. With a pleasant grin on your lips, you gestured for him to step inside. “Let’s get started, then.”

After sitting down on the couch once more, Eddie took the sheet of notebook paper on which you’d scrawled a part of your soul written in verse and began to read intently. Leaving him to digest the song completely (also because you felt awkward sitting there in silence as he read your work) you left to grab two water bottles from the kitchen. When you returned, he had already grabbed a fresh sheet of notebook paper and begun jotting down notes. 

You placed the bottles on coasters, bracing yourself for the criticism that you knew was coming-

“You were right.”

Huh? 

You craned your neck to see what he had written on the notebook paper. “About what?”

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Eddie yanked the paper out of your line of sight. “About this song, it’s completely different from what I’d assumed you would write. Actually,” he grinned. “-it’s kinda fucking metal.”

You smiled, once again reaching for the page. “Then let me see what you wrote-”

“I’m not finished yet, keep your panties on.”

The two of you worked for hours that afternoon, Eddie suggesting lines and chords as you wrote corresponding notes and chords on your sheet music. It didn’t take long for you to grab the acoustic guitar and begin strumming out portions of the song until it was finished.

Both of you agreed it was something to be proud of.

“Hey, uh,” Eddie stuttered before exiting your apartment that evening, when you were both happy with the work you’d done for the day. “I hope you know how sorry I am for being such an ass when I got here earlier-”

You shrugged, any traces of anger melted away at this point. “Eh.” you smirked. “You made up for it. That song might be my favorite on the album now, honestly, I meant it when I said I was a fan of yours- wouldn’t have trusted it with anyone else.”

He smiled at you warmly. “I’m honored to have such a talented fan.” The door was open, but he wasn’t leaving yet. Instead, Eddie stood with his tattooed arms crossed over his chest leaning his weight to one shoulder against the doorway. “I mean it though, you’re a talented songwriter. If you want to collaborate on any other songs, just say the word and I’m back here.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

He nodded, “Dead serious.”

Smiling excitedly, you ran to your notebook, flipping through the pages until you found what you were looking for. You looked up at Eddie, a knowing grin on your lips. “Remember those songs about sex I mentioned?”

***

The original plan for your album had been to collaborate with multiple artists for about fifty percent of your album, while the other fifty percent would only feature you. What ended up happening was slightly different.

The more songs Eddie saw, the more passionate he became about the message you were working to convey through your lyrics. He ended up reworking every single song with you in a completely collaborative process, where he never overstepped, never tried to take over- simply understood what you were trying to say and added the extra ‘oomph’ each song had been needing to truly become what you had envisioned. 

“I feel like I really can’t just call this my album now, Eddie, you’ve contributed way more to this to just be credited as a featured artist-”

You’d first voiced concerns about how to credit Eddie in the album a few days into your songwriting spree. It became an easy routine, Eddie would come over first thing in the morning, and the two of you would sit in your living room working through your songs and ordering takeout until the sun set. 

“Well it’s not a collaboration album with Corroded Coffin,” Eddie had replied, sticking a bite of noodles into his mouth. The two of you had been seated at your kitchen table, white boxes of Chinese food, napkins, and torn chopstick wrappers decorating the space between you. “Those fuckers haven’t even met you, they don’t get credit for anything they ain’t playing on.” 

“But I’m talking about you.” you pushed, “If we keep going the way we’ve been, you’re going to be a vital part of the composition for every track on this album! I’m not going to let you avoid credit for that.” you gazed at him, unable to hide the admiration you’d begun to feel for the artist at your table. “Let me list you as a composer for every track you help me with. We already know you and your band will be featured on Eat Me and Freak, so obviously you’ll be credited for those…” 

As you continued to ramble on about how Eddie would be credited for each and every song lyric he suggested, he got distracted looking at the way your hair glinted slightly different shades of blue in the sunlight that filtered in through your balcony window. His eyes followed the light along your skin, taking in the way it glistened off the dewey shine on your cheekbone, how it shone directly into the corner of your eye so that colors he had never noticed were brought to the surface of your irises…

This wasn’t the first time that Eddie had gotten distracted watching you rant about something you were passionate about. He knew he was supposed to be listening, that it was very important that he knew what your songs were about, that he understood the details of your plans for the album so that you wouldn’t have to repeat yourself later- but dammit, you were just so pretty. Really fucking pretty, it was hard for him not to get distracted. Initially, this whole collaboration had just been something that Eddie’s publicist had suggested for getting the newer generation listening to Corroded Coffin in time for their new album to drop at the end of the summerl, so when Eddie had first waltzed into your apartment he’d been expecting a kid; an innocent, teeny-bopper sort of persona. He hadn’t expected a loud, firecracker of a woman with hair the color of his old denim jacket. 

Eddie wasn’t an idiot. He was well aware that he was old enough to be your father. You were what- twenty-seven? Twenty-eight? Definitely under thirty. And here he was, pushing forty-seven with a salt and pepper shadow on his jawline. The hair on his head hadn’t started graying yet (he dreaded the day that he would have to use *gulp* hair dye) but he knew it was only a matter of time. For him to be ogling you like this? It would probably make you uncomfortable if you knew how often his eyes forgot to look away when you left the room. What was that old saying? Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave-

“Eddie?” 

Shit. He’d missed an entire conversation, hadn’t he?

He gave you his best apologetic smile, which didn’t work at all. You sighed, hanging your head low exasperatedly. “You didn’t hear a word of that did you?”

“Not a word, zoned out.” 

You threw a fortune cookie at him.

***

You and Eddie didn’t see each other for a while after recording the album. Eddie was there with the rest of Corroded Coffin to record the two tracks that they were featured in for the album, but after that plus a few guitar parts Eddie had been kind enough to record for some other songs, the two of you hadn’t had a reason to see each other. 

That was why you were so nervous for tonight. 

After working all summer and the better part of the fall, the album was finally finished. Copies of CDs and special edition vinyl were already being shipped out to music stores across the country and set to hit shelves in a week, so tonight was the kickoff event for your publicity tour: you would be joining Corroded Coffin tonight onstage for a surprise performance of Eat Me and  Freak. Tonight was October 31st, and premiering those songs on Halloween with the metal king that helped you make them the masterpieces they were? This was just one of those moments when the stars aligned poetically.

You looked yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves before heading to sound check. It had been a couple of months since you’d seen Eddie, but that wouldn’t matter, right? You’d spent a whole week workshopping incredibly personal- in some cases, intimately personal- songs with the guy, so singing onstage with him shouldn’t be a big deal. You were a professional, so it didn’t matter that you hadn’t performed in over two years, you could do this. Never mind the fact that this was the first performance of the rest of your career; never mind that sometimes the way Eddie looked at you make you feel like your knees were about to buckle; never mind that Eddie Munson, rock god and sex symbol of the metal world, was going to be within touching distance the moment you set foot on that stage…

A knock at the door of your tiny dressing room startled you, along with a voice letting you know that sound check was about to begin. Decisively, you grabbed your water bottle and headed to the stage before you could psych yourself out any more. 

When you got to the stage, Eddie was the first person you laid eyes on. He smiled at you, dark curls flying around his face and forming a sinful-looking halo around his face as he gave you a friendly nod- god, he was gorgeous. Waving back at him, you returned the nod and grinned. You wouldn’t be going on until the end of their set, so you situated yourself on an empty stool backstage with a view of the band. 

Their practice was fascinating to watch, how all four of the band members were so obviously masters of their craft, each ear trained to notice any imperfection in the way their instruments sounded through the stereos. Every once in a while, Eddie would look your way out the corner of his eye, just to check if you were still watching; you always were. Whenever he saw you looking directly at him, never glancing down at your phone or at the other band members (besides the odd look thrown in Gareth Emerson’s direction; the way his curls bounced was honestly hypnotic), he’d hold your eye contact, smirk into the microphone, and continue to belt out the lyrics to his songs with a smidge more cockiness than he had been prior. 

When the time finally came for you to join them, you took a deep breath and strutted to where Eddie stood in the center of the stage. No one had handed you a mic, so you weren’t sure where you were supposed to stand until Eddie moved aside to make room for you at his mic stand. 

You looked questioningly at Eddie. “You don’t need your mic?”

He chuckled, placing a hand on the small of your back as he put his lips to your ear. You figured he was just trying to avoid the mic picking up his voice, but the hand on your back… that was new. Was this a move? Was Eddie Munson making a move? On you?

Oh. 

That’s a fun development. 

“This one’s all you, darlin’.” Eddie said, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I’ll stay out of your way. Also-” He pulled away enough to look you in the eyes, and your lips must have been a little too close to the mic because it picked up your fucking gasp. You jerked your head away from the mic, cursing yourself for being so nervous. 

Eddie definitely noticed, but all he did was chuckle, still staring at you with giant doe eyes framed by smile lines and bushy brown eyebrows. “-it’s good to see you, popstar.” There was no condescension in his tone this time; all you could find in his gaze was kind, genuine joy that you were here, and you couldn’t help but smile back. 

Confidently, you gripped the mic with both hands, smirking at Eddie through your side eye. You didn’t bother leaning away from the mic when you replied, sprinkling sultry into your voice. If Eddie Munson was trying to drop a hint, you wanted him to know you were receiving it.

“It’s good to see you too, rockstar.”

***

Mic check went flawlessly, which meant it was time for you and the band to eat in the green room while fans began lining up outside the venue, waiting for the doors to open. 

You had a couple drinks with the band while biding your time before you had to get dressed for the show. Much to your delight, Eddie never left your side the whole time. You had been close to him in your living room day after day when you’d worked on your songs, but this was different; you kept noticing little glances and touches that spoke louder than words- how his hands lingered longer than expected, never missing a chance to touch your arm or place a hand on your back to guide you as you walked. How his eyes were most focused whenever he was looking at you, and he never seemed to give you passing glances- every look he gave you was intense and purposeful, it made you shiver in a very good way. When he and the band left to get ready for showtime, he took a moment to check on how you were before leaving to go to his dressing room. 

“You nervous?” he asked. There wasn’t any judgment there, just concern for you. 

“Yes,” you admitted, “But I think I’ve got it.”

Eddie smiled widely, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and squeezing you tightly. “Oh I know you’ve got it, angel.”

You caught his wrist, holding it to your shoulder before he could retract it. Turning to him, you batted your eyes a bit before raising an eyebrow. “Angel, huh?”

Eddie inclined his head, eyes narrowing flirtatiously. “What, should I switch back to sweetheart?”

You smirked. “Only if you wanna make me mad.”

It took everything in you not to shrink back from him as he leaned forward, practically glowering over you. He opened his mouth as if to say something, but must have decided against it. You saw his tongue poke into the inside of his cheek as he nodded to himself, eyes narrowing further as if he were having a whole conversation within his head that you weren’t privy to. Finally, he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze and you let him go, staring at him with every ounce of confidence you could muster. 

“...I’ll remember that, popstar.” he said, voice low and gravelly and sure to throw you into a coma if he said the right words with that voice at the right time. You didn’t let him see how much he was affecting you, though- save for a little grin that you couldn’t hide as he smirked at you and walked away.

When he exited the green room- and you were sure you were alone- you finally let out a breath that you’d been holding for what seemed like entire minutes. You grabbed your drink, chugging down the rest of your liquid courage in the hopes that it might also cool you down a bit. 

***

The cheers from the crowd were deafening, and the gravity of what was about to happen was starting to get to you. 

Corroded Coffin was about to start the song that would be your cue to join them. You stood in the wings like you had during sound check, this time fussing over your outfit to ensure every piece was in place. The fact that it was Halloween combined with the tone of your new album had influenced your wardrobe choice for the evening- ripped black jeans that were more rip than jean, a strappy black bustier top with a plethora of silver buckles that decorating the surface of your bodice where the sides attached at your sternum, fishnet fingerless gloves, and your favorite part of the outfit: the biggest platform boots you’d ever owned. You remembered seeing them and falling in love immediately with the straps that decorated the entirety of the shoe, as well as the silver buckles on each strap that matched your top like a dream. Paired with your blue hair, you looked strikingly goth and nearly unrecognizable from the girl your fans remembered. 

When Eddie announced you onstage, you had to take a deep breath before joining him out there. Slow inhale, slow exhale… and then you were overtaken with hot stage lights.

Out on the stage, you could really take in the size of this crowd- it was far larger than what you were used to, and when they realized who you were, they went wild. You couldn’t help but be intimidated until you felt Eddie’s hand gently grounding you as it ghosted the skin on your back.

His lips tickled your ear as he leaned in and whispered in your ear out of range from the mic, “Knock ‘em dead, sweetheart.” 

You felt a flare of indignation intertwined with delight, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little evilly into the mic at this little shit of a rockstar.

 He did that on purpose. 

You looked at him with the biggest smirk on your face, and it matched the smug, sultry grin on his. Silently, he nodded at the audience as if to say ‘Well? They’re waiting.’

You looked over your shoulder at Jeff on the bass, nodded, and right on cue as Jeff began the first note of the song, the entire stage was flooded with scarlet light. 

***

Eddie could tell you were nervous. Flirting with you probably wasn’t helping, and for all he knew, he might even be making you uncomfortable. 

However…

Over the years, Eddie’s gotten more perceptive when it came to the subtleties of body language. He didn’t miss the fact that you’d been leaning into every touch he ghosted over your skin, no matter how overt or fleeting those touches might have been. He’d seen the change in your eye contact when it lingered a little longer than necessary- that shift from attentive to intrigued, even a little wanting at times. 

The only question was what you wanted, and Eddie was really hoping it was him.

As he watched you take his place at the mic, standing monochrome in scarlet light, he bit his lip as he tried to hold back the salacious grin that slid across his lips; he was unsuccessful. 

Eddie hit his guitar part easily as you purred the lyrics that the two of you had slaved over into your microphone. 

Be more predictable

Be less political

Not too original

Keep to tradition, but stay individual

Thrusting ever so slightly with his warlock, Eddie channeled the rage and rebellion of your lyrics into every word, smirking with the next few lines- they had been one of the first additions to the song that he’d made, and you more than did them justice. 

Dirty but washable

Winning but stoppable

All that I’m hearing is

You wanna make the impossible possible

Even though you’d been nervous earlier, it looked like you’d been able to shake it all off. Confidence was rolling off you like waves, strength in your comfort onstage practically seeping out of your pores. Eddie felt proud, yes, but mostly? He was turned the fuck on by it. His eyes never left you as you carefully removed the mic from its stand and leisurely strode to the edge of the stage as you sang the next lines, punctuating the last with a little shake of your head and a comically disgusted wrinkle of your nose.

Is this what you’d all prefer?

Would you like me better if I was still her?

Did she make your mouths water?

Ugh.

Just like you’d practiced, flashing white lights littered the stage right on cue when the drums opened up the chorus, and you belted those lyrics with all the anger and exasperation that he knew you’d felt when you’d written them. You were a force to be reckoned with- this was that girl he’d met when he’d walked into your apartment acting like a jackass; this was the firecracker of a woman who wasn’t afraid to tell him exactly what she thought. 

I know the part I’ve played before

I know the shit that I’ve ignored

I know the girl that you adored

She’s dead, it’s time to fucking mourn

I can’t spoon-feed you anymore

I can’t spoon-feed you anymore

Dinner’s served, it’s on the floor

I can’t spoon-feed you anymore

You dropped to a crouch, for the end of the chorus, legs bent but spread slightly, and flashing lights glinted off the metal buckles of your platform boots. Your voice ripped from your chest as you belted into the mic.

You’ll have to eat me as I am

You’ll have to eat me as I am

Eddie was incredibly grateful for the crouch you’d dropped into, because it gave him a view of your ass that was so perfect, he actually groaned. Swooned, practically. Thank god you had his mic and the music was loud enough that no one noticed. He hoped. However, anyone with eyes could probably see that he was basically undressing you with his gaze right now, so he really needed to get it together unless he wanted to be on a front page tomorrow for the wrong reasons. He cringed, imagining the headline Munson Ogles Popstar Half His Age. Mid-Life Crisis? Yeah. His publicist would love that one. 

You stood back up, stalking the edge of the stage as you sang the second verse. When you were about halfway through, you turned to look over your shoulder at Eddie, and it just about knocked the breath from his lungs. Your eyes- lined in black and zeroing in on him like something out of his metalhead fantasies- smoldered like embers on the edge of a cigarette as you sang the second half of the verse to him. 

Longer hair and tighter clothes

Would you like me better if I didn’t oppose?

Silver platters, pretty bows…

You were at his side now, turned sideways from the crowd so you were facing him as he turned to face you in tandem. About a foot away from each other, the only thing between you was his guitar, thankfully big enough to hide the way his hard-on was quickly growing harder with every moment you looked at him with those eyes. 

Your expression shifted, eyes rolling as you threw your head back in mock boredom, amping the lines up to the extreme. As you lifted your head back up, you looked at him with the brattiest fucking face Eddie had ever seen as you delivered the final line of the verse into the mic.

…Fuck. 

And then you smirked, tip of your tongue peeking out of your lips and you winked at him. 

Fucking. Winked. 

Ohhhhhh, you were doing this on purpose. You had to be. 

And Eddie couldn’t do shit about it, because you were in the middle of a performance, on stage, jumping around in platform boots and screaming the chorus into your mic like fucking banshee. So he channeled every ounce of sexual frustration into shredding the fuck out of his guitar and staring you down, salivating at the way you blazed on that stage like a witch at the stake. Then, about halfway through that chorus, at the edge of the stage and working the crowd for all they could give you, Eddie just about had a heart attack.

Because you dropped to your fucking knees.

You let the music take control of you, screaming ‘I can’t spoon-feed you anymore’ into the mic, you dropped down to one knee followed by the other as you delivered the final lines before Eddie’s solo.

You’ll have to eat me as I am

You’ll have to eat me as I am

You held your last note long and loud, widening your knees and leaning into a backbend that didn’t stop until your upper back touched the stage behind you. Eddie was amazed that he was even able to remember his part when you were in front of him doing that. Jesus Christ.

Eddie continued to play, and he saw you crane your neck just in time to make eye contact with him as you delivered the next line of the song. You brought the mic to your lips, your knees still spread open and your spine deliciously arched.

Choke on it!

God…you were gonna kill him. 

You pushed yourself back into a kneeling position, facing the audience. As Eddie’s guitar solo became more complex, and his playing more impressive, your jaw dropped as you looked to the audience and fanned yourself, as if you were all sharing a joint reaction of ‘wow, are you guys hearing this too?!’. Eyes crinkling from your smile, you brought the mic to your mouth again. 

Choke on it!

Once you were back on your feet, you stood at ease in the center of the stage as you waited out Eddie’s solo. When he finished, you stared down the crowd as you delivered the last chorus. At this point, Eddie could see some of the spectators mouthing the words along with you, and his chest swelled with pride at your ability to win over a crowd that hadn’t even been expecting you on stage. Hell, knowing his fans, most of them were probably older than you by several years, and yet here they were singing your song. 

When you drew your first breath after the final note, the crowd went wild. He expected you to be staring at them, soaking up the energy of a satisfied throng of fans, but no- immediately, your eyes were on him, an ear-to-ear smile stretching across your face. You had just absolutely killed your first song performed in two years, and you wanted to share your joy with him before you shared it with anyone else. 

Eddie couldn’t help but mirror your smile- it was the least he could do, after the way you just made his heart swell to triple its usual size. He took a few steps over to where Jeff stood with his bass, nodding to the mic in a silent question, to which Jeff gladly stepped aside. 

“If this is what happens when you take a two-year hiatus,” Eddie said slyly into the mic, “then maybe you should do it more often, rockstar.”

The crowd cheered again, and you looked caught off guard by his calling you rockstar instead of popstar. To Eddie, it made perfect sense- tonight, there was nothing pop about you. You were rock & roll incarnate, his equal in every single way. You took a few steps back until you and he were the same distance from the edge of the stage, and as long as he was speaking, your eyes never left him.

“So I’ve been working with this absolute badass on an album- well no, I’m giving myself way too much credit, she wrote an album, I plucked a few guitar strings, yada yada yada-” You giggled as Eddie reminded the crowd of your name, loud and clear, so they knew who to look up on Spotify later. “-anyway, her album drops in a week, that last song you heard was called…”

Eddie looked at you with expectant eyes and a devilish smile. He wanted to hear you say it. Just for fun. He enjoyed being a little shit. 

You smirked into your mic. “Eat Me.” 

The crowd cheered again, all it took was hearing you say two little words. Eddie knew the feeling.  

“We’ve got one more before our lovely guest has to leave the stage, and this one is my personal favorite off the album.” Eddie started warming up with a couple chords from the song before adding, “This is Freak.”

You had replaced the mic into its stand at center stage, which was where Eddie headed to meet you. During sound check, you had asked him if he would need his own mic for this one, but Eddie- selfishly- had said it was no problem, and he didn’t mind sharing. That was a drastic understatement though, since he would happily leap at any excuse to have his lips close to yours in any capacity at all. 

You smiled at him, and you were doing that thing again- that thing where you looked at him like you were giving him a dare. That thing where you touched the tip of your tongue to your upper lip. 

Eddie wanted to bite that lip.

Instead, he smoldered down at you as he began the opening chords to Freak. 

***

You may not have been sure about Eddie’s feelings before tonight, but you were now. 

He wanted you. Bad. So bad, you felt high off the lust that was rolling off the man beside you. 

You could tell by the way he was looking at you that he wanted to do so many things to you here and now, but due to the giant crowd before you that wasn’t an option. The power trip of knowing that every move you made was driving him crazy and he couldn’t do shit about it made you feel bratty as fuck, and you channeled every ounce of that into each word of your next song. 

Pinch me, singe me, inch me to the edge

Your eyes fluttered shut as you let the sultry lyrics take over, arms bending as you brought them up to dance above your head as you stretched your neck back. Your pose mimicked the way you might have stretched across a bed, arching your back slightly in a way that you knew would make Eddie’s mind wander to all the right places. 

Prod me, laud me, ungodly but heaven-sent

As the tempo picked up for the bridge, your lips brushed the mic and you bounced slightly to the beat. Looking up at Eddie, you felt your chest tighten when you saw how blown his pupils were as they zeroed in on you. There was nothing silly or flirty in his gaze now- this was lust, want, need… it was predatory in a way that made you shiver.

Get your tickets to the freak show, baby

Step right up to watch the freak go crazy.

Eddie’s guitar launched into the chorus with you, both of your mouths breaking your little standoff by smiling because you couldn’t help yourselves- performing together, this close, singing lyrics that the two of you connected with- you were having so much fun. 

Am what I am and what I am is a piece of meat

Take a bite just to watch me bleed

Freak

Say what you want and what you want is behind your teeth

Ain’t gotta spell it out for me

Freak

Now Eddie’s lips were the ones on the mic, his throaty voice tearing through the air in a way that made you stop short from its power alone. He sang the first two lines on his own-

Bait me, you can cage me

Even plate me, I don’t care

You joined him for the bridge on one side of the mic while his mouth remained in place at the other, and his voice dropped down to his chest to create a sound that was more growl than song. He sounded demonic, feral- damn, you wanted to jump his bones right now. 

Get your tickets to the freak show, baby

Step right up to watch the freaks go crazy

As you both sang the chorus together this time, your eye contact across the microphone was charged with feelings reflected as though you were looking in a mirror. Anticipation for what would happen after this show was building with every lyric, and as he growled his lines into the mic you wondered what the headline would be if you stuck your tongue down his throat right now. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t how you wanted to start this next leg of your career- at least publicly. Different time, different place. Like, say, in about thirty minutes. In your dressing room. Against a wall, preferably.

When you finished the chorus, Eddie shredded through his guitar solo like a bat out of hell, even improvised a scream into the mic that made your jaw drop yet again. Upon hearing it, you couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh, hopping up and down in your platform boots and headbanging along with him. After he’d finished, you took hold of the mic stand with both hands and began chanting repeating lines that would take you through to the next chorus before ending the song. 

Came from the trauma, stayed for the drama

You sang the line twice before Eddie joined you for the third and fourth repetition, that deep, ripping croon tearing its way through his throat and out of his plush pink lips less than an inch from yours. You wanted to turn your head and look at him so badly, but you were so close that you’d be locking lips if you did. 

As you both sang the final chorus, you pulled back just enough for your gazes to meet; you were rewarded with lust blown umber eyes, sweat-soaked curls framing a face as timeless as music itself, and a grin that sparked pure joy in your very soul. 

If this guy can fuck, you might just fall for him. 

Eddie prompted the audience to cheer for you one more time after the song was over, shooting you a smile as he brought you in for a friendly hug. He was in front of thousands; you knew his hands would remain in strictly G-rated areas (unfortunately), but he did whisper in your ear out of range from the mic. 

“Wait for me in your dressing room.”

Bingo. 

You thought about following his lead- waiting patiently in your dressing room for him to finish up his show then have his way with you- but you had a better idea. You tilted your head up quickly to bring your lips up to his ear, your clear lip gloss catching its shell.

“I’m gonna keep watching you in the wings- you can do whatever you want after that.” 

Your eyes met as you pulled away, and you let yourself revel for a moment at the way he looked at you- like he wanted to, well…eat you. Eyes so dark they were almost black under the stage lights, he shook his head slightly in disbelief. Again, you felt that familiar rush of adrenaline from driving him crazy when he couldn’t do a fucking thing about it; you were beginning to think you might be addicted.

As Corroded Coffin finished their set, you stayed offstage and did exactly what you said you would- you watched Eddie every second. You were like a sponge soaking up every flip of his hair, every deft movement of his fingers as they flew across the frets of his guitar. Every once in a while, his eyes would flick to where you stood, checking to see if you were still there, which of course you were. Each time he saw you, you watched as he shook his head again, or rolled his eyes, or- in one case which almost resulted in you melting into a puddle on the floor- maintaining eye contact as he belted out lyrics to songs he wrote, with a gaze so smoldering it felt as if there were no one in the whole arena but the two of you. With every minute, every note, every song- you felt him spinning a web around you like a spider trapping its prey, and you willingly anticipated the moment he would finally storm off the stage and drink you dry.

And that’s exactly what he did.

The last song ended, and Eddie wasted no time in ripping his guitar from his torso, handing it to a roadie without a second glance and grabbing you by the hand. You didn’t protest as he pulled you into a corner backstage away from any prying eyes. Before you could think a coherent thought besides Wow, I’m wet, Eddie took both your wrists in his strong, ring-dappled hands and slammed them above your head against the wall. His eyes, black with lust and wolfishly hungry, bored into yours as he used the last ounce of restraint to hold himself back long enough to ask the vital question, “Tell me, you want this?”

He bit the words out; growled them into your face as your eyes widened, desire painting your expression a gorgeous shade of pathetic as you nodded desperately. A deep groan sounded from his chest as Eddie pressed his pelvis against yours, and you gasped at how hard he was. “Words, sweetheart, I need you to say it.”

That familiar flare of indignation in your chest mingled with the flames in your core that burned for all he had to give you. Your eyes shifted, screaming rebellion that harmonized with the submission that your body so desperately craved. The corner of your mouth quirked up in a mocking half-smile. “Fuck yes, I want it, what do you think I was bouncing around out there for-”

His lips murmured a “Fucking Christ,” as he cut your sentence short, smashing his needy mouth against your burgeoning smirk. His arms crumbled as he finally felt the release of his skin on yours, caging you in as his forearms collapsed against the wall, hands still closed around your wrists. His biceps flexed, framing your faces as he all but devoured you in a kiss that was so wanting, so possessive- it claimed you. It ruined all kisses that came before it and would ever follow it. 

He was ruining you, and you committed the way his whole body covered yours and made you feel both safe and coveted to memory, imprinting it on your mind knowing that you would probably never feel this wanted ever again. 

Then, just as soon as he was on you, his touch lifted away. 

A needy whine escaped your lips before you could hold it back. Eddie slotted his tattooed hand into the space where your neck met your jawline, thumb caressing your skin as he smiled sweetly down at you- but his eyes were anything but sweet.

“I gotta go back out for the encore. Go take these off-” you melted into his touch as his other hand played with the buckles at the front of your top. His hand at your neck crept back, taking your chin between his thumb and the middle knuckles of his forefinger as if he were scolding a child.

“-and wait in your dressing room.”

Your eyelids were heavy, and you smirked as you opened your mouth to argue-

“And don’t fucking argue with me.”

You bit the reply into your bottom lip- you could save the brattiness for later. Just as Eddie had begun to pull away, his eyes dropped to your teeth on your lip and in half a second he was on you again.

He sucked your bottom lip into his mouth, running his tongue along the soft skin before biting down firm enough to set off your mental alarms yet soft enough that you didn’t feel any pain from it. He pulled away once more, letting your lip go with a little pop.

“Been wanting to do that all night.” Eddie said, his shit-eating grin back in full force as he winked at you and jogged back to the stage. You stayed put for a second, smiling like an idiot as you heard the roar of the crowd, imagining what Eddie must look like while he returned to the stage with lips pink and swollen from his attempt at eating you alive. No one would know why he looked out of breath and a little extra happy… but you would. 

You’d never walked as fast in your life as you did in that moment, making a beeline for your dressing room, fingers already beginning to work on the buckles at your sternum.

***

When Eddie opened the door to your dressing room about ten minutes later, the gigantic grin on his face fell instantly when he saw you lounging on the couch in the same clothes you’d been wearing during sound check, sans your oversized skull sweatshirt. Your black shorts and knit tank top still showed plenty of skin, but he had explicitly told you to take off your clothes and wait for him. You were still in the mood to brat out, apparently. 

You looked up at him from your phone, smiling sweetly with challenging eyes. “Hi.”

Eddie closed the door behind him, leaning against it as it shut. “Hi.” he mimicked, crossing his inked forearms over his chest. He stared at you silently, expectantly.

You raised an eyebrow, coyly pretending not to know what he was being so pissy about. “What?”

Eddie pushed off the door, walking towards you at a pace that was agonizingly slow. “You know what.” 

You huffed haughtily, looking back at your phone and pretending to be more interested in your screen than the man who’d had you panting up against a wall ten minutes ago. “Well that’s a little presumptuous of you, I’m not a mind reader.”

It didn’t take Eddie long to cross the expanse of your tiny dressing room, deftly sliding the phone from your hands and placing it on a low table beside the couch. “Should’ve known you weren’t listening earlier,” Eddie tsked and shook his head in disappointment. “I know you were a little distracted back there, sweetheart, but when I told you to take your clothes off, I meant it.”

You sighed as Eddie stared down at you from where he stood, towering over you as you laid back against the couch cushions. His gaze devoured you piece by piece as it roved over your wide eyes, glossy lips- your shoulders still shining from sweat after giving your all to the stage, your chest as it rose and fell with your quickening breath. 

“Well,” you purred, like a cat who knew they were the center of attention and didn’t mind it in the slightest. “You didn’t say not to put on clothes after I took the other ones off…”

As you spoke he leaned forward, placing a knee on the couch between your legs so that your heat was only inches from his thigh. His hands splayed across your rib cage, admiring the stark contrast between his ink-covered hands and your soft, cream-colored shirt. It was thin enough to see… wait, were you-?

Eddie smirked, a breathy laugh escaping through his nose as he pulled the fabric taut, confirming his suspicions that yep, you weren’t wearing a bra. 

Oblivious to Eddie’s train of thought, you continued, “...if you wanted me to just wait here for you naked then you should’ve been more specif-”

Rrrrriiiiipp!

Your jaw dropped, cold air hitting your bare breasts without warning as Eddie tore your shirt open. You squealed, your shocked voice jumping up several octaves. “Eddie!” but your eyes told a different story. You were pissed, but the anger you felt was nothing compared to how fucking hot he looked after doing something as dominant and unexpected as ripping your fucking clothes off. 

He raised his eyebrows, giving you a moment to push him away in case he had gone too far- but you didn’t. Instead, you narrowed your eyes up at him and crossed your arms over your bare chest, pressing your cleavage together the way you knew would drive him nuts. “That was fucking Gucci!” you pouted.

Eddie laughed, taking your crossed arms and shoving them up above your head over the arm of the couch as he mockingly imitated your high-pitched “‘That was fucking Gucci!’” he lowered himself over you, bringing his face to the hollow of your neck, and you heard him inhale the scent of you from your collarbone to your ear. He wrapped his lips around the underside of your ear and sucked, then bit, savoring your little moan at the sensation. His mouth met your ear as he growled, “Wouldn’t have happened if you’d just done as you were told, instead of being a little fucking brat.”

Eddie pulled back, sitting up on his knee that was still slotted between your legs as he cupped his hands around your naked breasts. He kneaded them, played with you like he was testing out a brand new toy. He addressed you without looking up into your eyes as he continued to paw at your chest. “You gonna be a good girl now and do what I tell you to?”

You raised your eyebrows, amused that he expected your submission so quickly. Smugly, you looked up at him through narrowed eyes, placing your hands behind your head like a pillow and sighed petulantly. 

“Fucking bite me.”

His eyes snapped up at you, thick with predatory disbelief at your cheek even when he had you half naked beneath you. He’d been challenged before, sure- but at this point, when he had his woman pinned down and moaning under him, he was usually the undisputed decision-maker during sex. The smile that bloomed across his lips was devilish, almost like there was a beast within him that had been kept safely under lock and key- until you’d said that. 

Eddie was on you, grabbing one breast and enveloping the nipple in a harsh suck of his lips, biting down on the little nub hard. You gasped, the sound a lewd, sharp moan that brought out a laugh in him so nefarious it gave you chills. He looked up at you with eyes alight with amusement and feral need that shook you to your core.

“Oh, baby-” he laughed, crawling up until his face hovered over yours. “-I’m gonna have some fucking fun with you.”

Taking your face in his hands, Eddie Munson kissed you like it was what he had been put on God’s green earth to do. His lips moved against yours with a beautiful mix of urgency and devotion, like you could just tell that right here, right now, there was nothing else he cared about except making sure you knew exactly how badly he wanted- needed-  to make you his. He slowly lowered the rest of his body until his pelvis was flat against yours, grinding into your clothed heat and exploiting the chink in your brat armor that was the his fucking size. 

You bucked your hips up into him, craving friction as you moaned into his mouth. Eddie chuckled, stroking your cheek with his thumb. “What’s the matter baby, you need something?” 

You pouted against him, moving a hand to reach between the two of you and palm him through his jeans, but he knocked your hand out of the way, continuing to dry hump you to insanity. You whined as he bit your pouting lip, sucking it into his mouth before his tongue slipped into yours. It explored you, tasting you as your tongue happily let him in. You felt his hand creep down your torso, giving your abused, bitten tit a little squeeze before traveling further down to the button of your shorts.

He undid the button with ease before you registered that he was taking off your clothes after he had denied you access to do the same to him. “Hey,” you panted, reaching for him, “you first, that’s not fair. I’m nearly naked and you haven’t even taken off your shirt.”

Eddie chuckled, tilting his head to the side as he feigned confusion. “Fair?” he asked, “Since when did you want to play fair?” He reached back down to your shorts, button already undone, and gently pulled down the zipper. “You were the one out there- as you said- ‘bouncing around’-” His hands raked up your thighs until they reached the hem of your shorts and slowly tugged them down as you lifted your hips slightly so he could remove them smoothly. Eddie smirked; NOW she does what I want her to do.  “-knowing full well I couldn’t do a damn thing about it… and that fucking wink-” His eyes rolled back in his head just imagining it. He groaned as he pulled your shorts from your feet and discarded them on the floor. “-what the fuck was that, huh? Trying to get a rise out of me, baby?”

You giggled, bubbly laughter floating into a breathy sigh as Eddie’s finger traced the line of your slit through your panties. “Hmmmmm, like it when you call me baby.” you hummed.

 He raised an eyebrow, “Oh you do?” His finger traveled up over the fabric, and he chuckled when you bucked up into his touch as the pad of his finger passed over your clit. That finger slipped under the elastic waistband of your panties, pulling it upwards off your skin as far as it could stretch. “You’re entirely too happy right now,” he stated, matter-of-factly. He let go of the elastic, making you jump with a breathy whimper as it hit your skin with a soft sting. “I’m switching back to sweetheart.”

You whined and he laughed as he continued to play with the elastic on your panties. He stared at them, entranced, before a wolfish grin took up residence on his face. “You like these?” he asked, and you knew where this was going right away. 

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head in disbelief. “How kind of you to ask this time.” 

The grin grew, and he took the crotch of your panties into his fist, grabbing the fabric above it with his other hand to do the same. You ground your hips against his knuckles as they brushed your pussy, already soaked and eager for any friction you could get. “Yeah, you know what,” he voiced, as if he were simply thinking out loud. “I don’t really care if you like them or not.” 

And with that, another article of clothing was ripped to shreds by Eddie Munson and his stupid, tattooed, ring-covered, sexy-as-fuck hands. 

This time you couldn’t even be offended; you were just fucking feral at this point. While he was still distracted by your panties, you quickly shoved yourself up to a kneeling position, startling him enough that he moaned into the fervent kiss that crashed into his mouth. The two of you knelt on the couch cushions, hands grabbing at fabric desperately in a quest to make your skin connect at every square inch you had. Eddie allowed you to pull his shirt over his head, and the shallow breath you had left was instantly knocked from your lungs when you took in the ink that decorated his torso. Some tattoos were old and faded almost blue, while others looked newer- song lyrics, mythical creatures, hellish images adorned his skin like a tapestry that belonged in a museum- but it was here, under your hands. All for you. You couldn’t hold yourself back from bending down a little lower, sliding your tongue up his sternum over the masterpieces scarred into his skin and licking a long, broad stripe from his chest until you reached the tip of his chin. You felt him shiver, arms tightening around you after shoving the remains of your tank top over your shoulders. You started to push him back, planning to open his pants and show him what else you could do with your tongue- but Eddie wasn’t about to let you be on top after the way you’d been acting all night. 

“Mm-mm, nope.” he mumbled, stepping off the couch.

“I’m just trying to suck your cock, baby. Please?”  You looked up at him with your best puppy-dog eyes, widening your legs as you knelt on the couch facing him, squishing your boobs together in that way that usually got you exactly what you wanted. For some reason, Eddie was immune. 

He placed his hand along your neck, thumb and forefinger squeezing just enough for him to feel your pulse. The way your eyes widened, looking up at him the same way you had when he’d shoved you up against a wall earlier- it brought a satisfied hum out of Eddie, and he loved the way he could feel your heartbeat quicken slightly. There was no hiding what you felt when his hand was wrapped around your throat. 

“You like calling me baby, sweetheart?”

You gulped. He felt it, of course, and he had to hold back a laugh- you looked so cute like this. Made him want to break you just to see what you’d be like when he picked up the pieces. 

Your eyes were blown wide, like a hunted fox with nowhere to run. “Is that okay? Can I call you baby?”

His face crumpled- god, you were adorable. Eddie smiled sympathetically, “Oh you can call me whatever you want, sweetheart-” His thumb moved up to your bottom lip, stroking gently before working it into your mouth; he groaned, head thrown back when he felt your soft, wet tongue swirl around his digit and coat it with your spit. 

“-don’t care what you’re calling me as long as you know I own your ass tonight.”

And then you moaned- oh, you fucking moaned his name around his finger in your mouth, and his cock twitched at the way it sounded. He wanted to record that, play it on loop, put it in a fucking song, hell- anything for him to be able to listen to it again and again and again. He wanted everyone to hear it, to know it was his name on your fucking tongue.

His thumb ripped from your mouth, replaced by his middle and ring finger, delving surprisingly deep into your mouth as you gagged around them. Your tongue quickly resumed its previous motions, lapping at his thick fingers and sliding over, under, around, between them. You reveled in the taste of metal as you tongued his silver rings. You gasped when he removed his fingers before, without warning, he slid them into your weeping pussy.

Your expression was beautifully obscene, eyes wide with surprise while your mouth- glistening with spit from his fingers leaving in a rush- fallen open in a silent scream. Eddie thrust his fingers up and into you repeatedly, forcing you open wider and wider with the rapid motion.

“Actually, I changed my mind,” Eddie grit into your ear, “I don’t wanna hear anything but my goddamn name leave that pretty ‘lil mouth until I’m done with you, aright?”

You were moaning, but evidently that was still not enough to deter you from being your snarky self. “Well that’s unrealistic, I’ll probably say more than just tha- ah! Oh fuck-!”

Eddie’s pace was relentless, fingers ripping through you with a vengeance as he muttered “Bratty little slut-” spearing you over and over as you sped toward the white-hot precipice that wasn’t quite release, but certainly what Eddie intended to pull out of you. 

You moaned as what felt like a dam within you suddenly gave way, flooding your inner thighs, Eddie’s hand, and the couch beneath you. Eddie smiled wide, the muscles in his arm screaming pointlessly- he wasn’t going to stop until you’d given him every last drop there was to give. 

“-yeah, not so bratty when you’re squirting all over my hand, are you baby? What, are you trying to say something? Spit it out, popstar-”

The noises tumbling from your lips were anything but coherent, Eddie knew that. He just kept grinning like a kid in a candy store as you babbled sounds that might have been his name, might have been a prayer, might have just been yes, yes, yes, Eddie, god yes! 

Whatever it was, it was music to his ears. 

Eddie looped his arms under your knees, pulling you into a sitting position with your legs wide open. Dropping to his knees, he stared at your spread pussy, glistening with the slick he’d just wrestled from you. His hands, wet with all you’d given him, grasped your thighs firmly but gently as he looked up into your eyes. It might have been the post-orgasmic haze you were experiencing, but for a second, Eddie looked at you with nothing in his eyes but care and admiration. His gaze shone like sunlight as he looked up at you, your stomach creasing from the crunch position he'd placed you in, your breasts rising and falling with each breath- the way he stared at you made you feel like an angel. 

“God, you’re fucking beautiful.” he whispered, hands squeezing your thighs affectionately. Before you could even react, his tongue was on you, lapping away at your soaked pussy. You mewled, head thrown back and spine arching as unraveled you from the inside out. He traced endless intricate shapes over your clit, your lips, your hole- thoughts flew from your brain as you let his mouth drive you fucking wild. His ministrations slowed at one point, causing you to open your eyes- you couldn’t even remember when you’d closed them- and look up at Eddie. 

Upon looking up, you were blessed with the sight of Eddie Munson, close-cut beard soaked with your slick, shirtless, pantsless, and currently pulling off his black boxers to reveal a cock that made you salivate on sight.

You let your brattiness fly out the window- there would be time for more of it later, but right now you needed that cock in one of your holes and you didn’t quite care which one. 

Eddie stroked himself leisurely, eyes boring down into yours the whole time. “Tell me what you want, babygirl.”

You spread your legs open wider for him. “Please.” you whined. 

Eddie shook his head, disappointed, sinking to his knees again. “See, this is what I knew would happen,” he murmured, sliding a finger around your clit at a torturously slow pace. “I can’t believe you got fucked stupid already and I didn’t even have to use my cock, those were just my fingers, baby.” From the slick sounds you heard from below your line of sight, you knew that he was jerking himself off as he played with your pussy. It was enough to pull a desperate moan from your throat. He licked one flat, wet stripe from your opening to your clit before murmuring against you, “Can’t even use your words and tell me what you want, sweet girl’s been fucked too dumb to make decisions, is that right?”

You found yourself nodding ‘yes’, the dirty words flying out of his mouth in rapid succession throwing your brain into overdrive. He was right; you barely had the brain capacity to think right now, much less match his attitude with snark. All you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes, waiting for whatever he planned on doing next. 

Eddie clicked his tongue, tilting his head as he looked at you pityingly. “That’s right, don’t worry baby I’ll just make all the decisions now, okay?” He rose, leaning over you as he placed a knee to your side and stroked himself, lining up his fully hard cock at your entrance. Your heartbeat quickened, excitement and anticipation building now that you knew his cock would be inside you soon. You mewled as his tip stroked your slit, up and down and up and down again… and stopping at your hole, hovering outside you. 

You looked up at him desperately, only to breathe in sharply upon seeing his devilish grin paired with coal-black lust-blown eyes. 

“Beg for it.”

You sighed so heavy it became a sob, frustrated and scrunching up your face like you were ready to throw a tantrum. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you whined.

“There she is.” he murmured.

If looks could kill, your glare would have sent Eddie Munson to his deathbed. He matched it with a condescending smile that spoke volumes of the power trip he was on right now. Leaning in slightly closer, he repeated himself. “Beg, sweetheart.” 

You narrowed your eyes. “No.”

Eddie shrugged, backing up just enough for his cock to leave your skin- you knew it was over from there. 

“Wait!” you cried, eyebrows drawing together desperately under his cocksure gaze. Christ you didn’t want to beg, but you might not have a choice. Eddie waited patiently, stroking his cock absentmindedly as he watched you squirm below him. 

You looked up at him, giving him your best ‘fuck me’ eyes. “Please fuck me Eddie.” Your voice was honey sweet, soft and submissive.

Eddie crouched down, sticking a finger in his mouth before he used it to play with your pussy, stroking circles around your clit and pumping it slowly in and out of you. “Aww, baby…” he crooned before narrowing his eyes. “-we both know you can do better than that.”

You groaned, back arching as your hands fisted frustratingly into the cushions. “Eddie, pleaaasse-”

“Try harder, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Eddie you fucking prick, just fucking fuck me, please, I need your cock-”

Eddie smiled- that was good enough for him. “‘Atta girl.” he groaned deeply as he pushed his cock into your waiting hole, your thankful moan mingling with his. 

His dick was perfect, filling you deliciously and long enough to just hit that spot beneath your clit that made your nerves go berserk. You didn’t realize how loud your moaning was until Eddie shut you up by covering your mouth with his own, swallowing down every sound you made and repaying you with noises of his own. 

“God, baby- so fuckin’ tight-”

You moaned, squeezing him as his cock speared you again and again. You were so built up between your squirting earlier and Eddie’s talented tongue- you were already getting close. 

As if he could read your mind, Eddie grunted out as he continued thrusting into you, “I’m nearly there already, baby, you gonna cum with me?”

You whined, nodding ‘yes’ as he pacified your mewling with his thumb. You lapped at it lewdly, covering him with a thick layer of your spit before releasing it with a pop. Eddie brought it down to your clit, working gentle circles around your bundle of nerves as his thrusting picked up the pace. You squirmed under him, chasing your release as you listened to the filth that poured from his mouth while he fucked the living shit out of you. 

“Jesus, fuck, so tight- my sweet girl, gonna fucking ruin you. Gonna make you come undone on my cock, just a fucking mess, gonna cum so hard on my cock-”

That last thing he said seemed to jerk him back into reality- his eyes grew wide, snapped out of his high as he looked down at you. “Shit, I don’t have a condom…baby, I’m so sorry, shit, where should I-”

You reached down, raking your nails softly over his hips. “I’m on birth control.” you said, smiling calmly. You kicked yourself for being so eager; normally you would still insist on a condom even with your implant, but Eddie just did something to you. “You haven’t been fucking any random groupies, have you?”

Eddie huffed, his laughter strained by his fast-approaching orgasm. “You’re the first in a while, angel. Last I checked I was clean, but I can still pull out if you-”

“Inside.” you whispered, grasping his ass and pulling him deeper into you. “I trust you, Eddie, I want you to fill me.”

His movements stuttered, big brown eyes wide and watching you like you were a miracle unfolding underneath him. He was still for half a second before his thumb resumed its movements over your clit as he thrusted faster, harder than before.

“Oh fuck, you want me to fill you baby? You want my fucking cum?” 

His cock speared into you as deep as it could go, Eddie’s attention to your clit driving you over the edge with relentless speed. “Yes, I want it Eddie, fuck, I’m gonna-”

“Fucking take it baby, cum on that cock.”

Eddie groaned as you clamped down on him, his seed spilling inside of you while your pussy fluttered around him. You arched your back until your face was pressed into the cushions behind you, muffling your whimpering voice as you moaned his name. 

A few moments passed, the air thick with the sound of heavy breathing and the smell of sex, before Eddie slowly pulled out of your wet heat. You laid there for a moment before you felt Eddie clean his sticky spend from your thighs and ass using a tissue. 

“Normally,” he said gently, “I would use a warm washcloth to do this, but we have limited options.” 

You sat up as he finished, smiling up at him playfully. “That sounds nice,” you said, “maybe I shouldn’t have listened to you earlier, made you wait until you couldn’t take it anymore and just whisked me off to your place.” 

Eddie sat down beside you, pulling you into his lap. He looked up at you with nothing but content sweetness in his eyes, any trace of the feral dominance from earlier gone for now. “I mean, we can still do that.”

You beamed, “Really?”

Eddie scoffed, tugging you closer. “What do you mean, ‘really’? You think I need to be desperately horny to want you in my bed?” 

You felt your cheeks heat up at the mention of his bed. “I don’t know… I guess I didn’t know if you wanted this to just be a one time thing, or…” You trailed off, unsure of what Eddie’s expectations had been for what happened after.

Eddie’s eyebrows drew together, confused. “Sweetheart,” he said, his finger tracing circles on your thigh affectionately. “We can hash out details whenever you’re comfortable… but tonight? I would count myself a very lucky man if you came home with me tonight.” He touched his forehead to yours, placing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose. “Okay?” he asked.

You looked down, suddenly shy upon hearing his honey-sweet words. You gave him a quick peck on the lips before looking him in his big brown eyes. “Okay.” you whispered. 

Your eyes stayed connected, melting you until your lips met his again, kissing him sweetly as his hands worked their way to your ass, squeezing as he sighed into your kiss.

“Alright,” he grunted, playfully slapping your thigh as a signal to stand up. “Let’s get you dressed.”

You giggled. “In what? You ripped up all my clothes!” you held up the shredded panties, shaking your head in disbelief.

Eddie shrugged, stepping into his boxers. “I didn’t rip up all of them, don’t be so dramatic.” He picked up your shorts, tossing them to you. “Just go commando with the shorts and wear your sweatshirt, no one will know.” 

You sighed, stepping over your torn Gucci tank top and retrieving your bra from where it sat neatly folded in a chair. Eddie looked over his shoulder at you as you began to put it on and gasped. 

“You did have a bra!”

You smirked, reaching behind your back for the clasp. “Yeah… I wanted to see your face when I wasn’t wearing one.” 

Eddie shook his head, smiling like an idiot as he buckled his jeans. “Unbelievable.” he chided, “Was it worth it?”

You tugged your sweatshirt over the bra, taking a few steps in Eddie’s direction until you were close enough to snake your hand around to the back of his neck and pull him down for one more kiss. When you pulled away, Eddie looked down at you entranced, blinking rapidly as if emerging from a dream. He could only describe the feeling in his chest as complete and utter euphoria. 

You grinned up at him, eyes alight with adrenaline that still lingered from your performance onstage and absolute infatuation with the man before you.

 “So worth it.”

[strangerxperv]

1. “i can’t keep going” - “aw, too bad. i don’t care”

Brats Never Stop

And Neither Does Eddie

Eddie was already in a bad mood from work when he came home. Typically, on days like these he will have you on his lap warming him with a beer on the table and a controller in hand. All his favorite things to wind down from a shit day.

But he always seems to forget one important thing. You can be a brat and even Eddie having a bad day, when you're feeling bratty, can't stop you. On this particular day you want to rile Eddie up.

You want his focus on you and see those brown eyes consumed in black, boiling in rage. You want Eddie to drown you in his dominance with hands that grip tightly. The way he crowds your space so you too only focus on him.

"Is this what you wanted?" His nose is lightly brushing your own, "To piss me off? Wanted my attention? Yeah?" Eddie's breath hits your parted lips, "Well, you got it...and now I'm gonna get what I want."

Quickly in a fluid motion Eddie flips you to face the wall to grip your shorts. Pulling both your panties and shorts down and off your legs. He steel-toe boots kick your feet apart and his heavy calloused hand forces your back into an arch.

SLAM? It takes you a moment to process the action and then the sting on your ass, "Eddie?" The confused moan slips out.

"What you thought I was gonna fuck you? Earn it, slut." The mean grin that splits his face wide goes unnoticed by you, "Count and maintain your stance."

It's a simple command that you must obey if you want his cock in you. But after twenty hard spanks to your hot backside you aren't sure if you can keep going, "I can't keep going!" You sob, "Please, Eddie! I'm sorry! I'll be a good girl!"

"Aw, too bad-" Eddie baby talks down to you and pets your shaking from, "I don't care." This time the slap hits your drenched cunt. SLAP, "I need you to remember this punishment because this is what happens to bad little brats." Eddie notches his thick cherry red tip into your twitching hole, "So, I'm gonna fuck you now and I'm gonna feel good. But you?" His laugh is cruel, "You're gonna show me that you're sorry, by not cumming."

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @subeddieweek, day three.

Menace to Society

Prompt: Brat/Wet/Choking | Word Count: 2556 | Rating: E | CW: Gagging | Tags: Established Relationship, Teasing, Taunting, Bratty Sub Eddie, A Bit of Orgasm Denial, Choking (on Cock), Light Biting, Light Spanking, Rimming, Unprotected Sex

He's a nuisance. A little shithead. A menace to society and Steve's life, as a whole. 

And Steve wouldn't have it any other way. 

Eddie is dripping water all over the hardwood floors of the bedroom as he stands in front of the closet, totally naked. His wet hair is dripping down his back, and he has to be freezing cold. The fan is whirring overhead, the window AC blowing full blast. But Steve just watches, waiting to see how long the little brat can hold out. 

He's pretty sure Eddie didn't even attempt to ghost a towel over himself, let alone dry off. 

Flicking through the shirts, Eddie's acting like he's never seen any of them before. Like, this is a brand new wardrobe and not his same old, ratty ass clothes that he refuses to replace, like, ever.

Steve waits. And Eddie stalls. 

He finally selects a plain black shirt, and pulls it over his head and slides on a pair of red plaid boxers. They're both clinging to his wet skin, and it can't be comfortable. But Steve says nothing, not even when Eddie slides into bed, his cold, wet hair soaking into the pillow, not even when he slides right up against Steve, pushing his face into Steve's neck. 

This cold, wet, rat of a man. 

And he's all Steve's. 

"You're a little brat," Steve says, and he can feel Eddie's smile against his skin, pressed against his pulse point. He's sure it's hammering away, giving away that he's not exactly as unaffected as he hopes he seems.

"And what are you gonna do about that?" Eddie asks, licking a wet stripe towards Steve's ear. 

"If you want something from me, all you have to do is ask." 

"Where's the fun in that?" Eddie questions, and Steve laughs. He's not sure how he's the boss here, he doesn't feel like he's the boss of anything that happens in their house. 

Long, long ago he was yanked off his feet by the living, breathing tornado that shares his bed. And he knew he could either ride out the storm, or take cover.

And he'll ride out the storm, always.

Eddie leans in and bites him hard on the neck, and it's his cue to act. He knows it, so he manhandles Eddie off him, and over onto his knees, until he's draped over his lap and draws back his hand and smacks Eddie on the ass. Once, twice, three times, a little harder with each blow.

Eddie just laughs. 

"Tickles," Eddie mumbles into the pillow. 

So, Steve strikes him again. Harder.

Then yanks on the damp boxers, wrestling them off Eddie, and pushing his t-shirt up his back. 

And Steve finds that Eddie has clearly worked himself open in the shower, despite knowing how much Steve likes to do it himself. 

"You disobeyed me," Steve says, spanking him again, then pressing his thumb against Eddie's stretched hole. 

"Well, if you'd be a little more competent at the job," Eddie says, and Steve grips his hip. 

"Hey," Steve says, firm, unyielding. It's effective, and the tone is all Eddie needs to change directions and back off. To mind. Steve's made it clear he doesn't like to be degraded or shamed, doesn't like to feel like he's bad at things, like he's bullshit, and Eddie knows better, even if he's being a fucking brat right now.

"Too far, sorry," Eddie says, and he reaches back to pet Steve's hand. 

"That's what I thought," Steve says, dumping Eddie onto the bed, moving to stand in front of Eddie. He tugs down his own underwear, just over his ass and palms his dick. 

Then he crooks his finger at Eddie, beckoning him closer.

"On your knees. Hands behind your back." 

Eddie whines, "But I'm ready…"

"And you'll still be ready when I am," Steve says firmly, pointing at the floor, "on your knees."

Eddie slides off the bed, and does as he's been told, but has a bitchy look on his face the entire time. It's a big job, but Steve will try to fix that attitude, so he grabs Eddie's cheeks between his fingers, pinching, forcing him to open up his mouth. Demanding that he lowers his jaw. 

He does, and Steve pats him on the cheek, softly, "That's my good boy. So docile, so giving, such a soft boy."

Steve's paying him back, even if Steve knows him well enough to know this won't rile him. Eddie wants to submit, even if he isn't exactly docile. Isn't soft. And doesn't want to be. 

When he lets go, Eddie is still sitting there, his mouth open. Waiting. Waiting. Eyes hooded.

Steve palms his own dick, stroking the length of himself, right at Eddie's eye level. Making him watch. 

Eddie sticks out his tongue, and Steve grins at him, can't help it, but still tells him, "You're a goddamn brat." 

And Eddie clamps his mouth shut, defiant. 

Loving Eddie, is living with constant consented to chaos.

Steve does nothing, just keeps stroking his own cock, lazily. Nothing works better on Eddie's bratty bad attitude than simply ignoring him. Lack of attention, that's what gets him to shape up.

So, Steve fists his own dick, and closes his eyes, tilting his head back. Long, smooth strokes, showing that he can please himself. That he doesn't need Eddie. That he can do this without any of his input.

Steve knows the silence won't last, can't. Eddie'll get jealous of Steve's own hand. He'll get too impatient. Steve's not wrong.

"Well, are you gonna do anything about it?" Eddie snaps.

Steve grins, wicked, opening his eyes as he leans down to get closer to Eddie's face.

"Of course I am. I was just waiting to see how big of a hole you were planning on digging for yourself, first."

Eddie's jaw drops back down, mouth open and pliant. Willing and waiting. Not wanting to be left out.

And that's more like it.

Steve rewards him for it by sliding the head of his cock against Eddie's bottom lip, then the tip of his tongue, before sliding in, in, in. Bumping the back of Eddie's throat. 

Eddie gags, he always does, and Steve's instinct is still to pull out. Even after all this time. Even after Eddie has told him not to, again and again. And Eddie must know that, must feel it happening, Steve withdrawing, so Eddie disobeys the order he was given and takes one hand out from behind his back, grabbing a handful of Steve's ass, pulling him in even further into his mouth. 

His cock sliding into Eddie's throat deeper than before, gagging him even worse.

Steve buries his hand in Eddie's hair, close to the scalp, and pulls him backwards. Off his dick completely. And Eddie makes a choked noise at the loss, but lets go of Steve's ass, and puts his hand back behind his back where it belongs. But he looks up at Steve with wet, betrayed eyes.

Steve brushes his thumb against Eddie's forehead, and Eddie nods. Just ever so slightly. 

He's okay, just pouting. 

"Do I need to hog-tie you and set you in cement? Or can you behave for once in your goddamn life?" Steve asks, and Eddie offers up his wrists, more belligerence than an actual offering, and Steve ignores him. "Behind. Your. Back," Steve repeats slowly, and Eddie puts them back where they belong.

Eddie nods, lowering his eyes, finally submitting.

So, Steve presses back in. Pressing, pushing until Eddie's eyes are watering more. Big and shining with unshed tears, but locked in on Steve's. Unwavering. 

Begging him, silently. 

Pupils blown wide, as he's getting lost in the scene, and it's a look Steve adores to get out of him.

So, Steve gives him what he wants, and bottoms out, choking him. He holds his cock in Eddie's throat for a few breaths. 

Then pulls out. Eddie gasps for air, just for a second, then opens his mouth for more. 

Steve gives him more. Over and over, until he's ready to torment Eddie further. Or, well, until Eddie's ready to be tormented further, seems more accurate. Steve's in charge, but this is always, will always, be about Eddie and his wants. His needs.

How they get there will be in Steve's hands, but the end game has always been clear to Steve. Make Eddie happy, even if he has to torture that happiness out of him, inch by inch, squeeze by squeeze.

"I'm gonna come," Steve tells him, "right down your throat."

Eddie whines, and attempts to shake his head no.

"Are you telling me no? Are you the boss of me?" 

Eddie whines again, shaking his head.

"All that work, and for what? Nothing," Steve says. "What'd you use? Your fingers? A toy? Hidden away, stretching yourself open, unable to wait for me to take care of you."

Eddie can't answer, not with Steve's cock in his throat. 

"Yeah, like that," Steve says, and then grips the back of Eddie's head. 

Eddie whines.

"Here it comes," Steve tells him, and presses as far in as he can. Eddie's nose is buried in his pubes, taking it. 

He doesn't come, never planned to, but he jerks his hips and groans like he has, and when he pulls out, Eddie swallows like he did. Giving him the big, sad doe eyes as he does it. Really laying on the patheticness.

Steve tucks his still hard dick back into his underwear, like this over. Because Eddie likes that. Likes to feel denied. Even as he whines, and kicks up a fuss, he is getting off on it. Steve knows he is. 

So, Steve crawls in bed, and Eddie follows. Steve lays his head back on his cold, wet pillow and sighs, like he's settling in for the night. 

And Eddie curls up right next to him, settling against his body. 

Steve reaches up and pets Eddie's hair, leaning over to kiss him on the head. 

"You're perfect," Steve says. 

Eddie doesn't miss a beat, "I know." 

Steve laughs. 

And Eddie grins. 

"You gonna be good for me a little bit longer?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods, adamant.

Eddie is bent over on his knees, and Steve is caressing his skin. Worshiping him. Everything about him. 

Before Eddie, before this life he loves, Steve hadn't thought about being in charge in a long time, his king's crown long thrown away with flourish and good fucking riddance. But Eddie wants Steve to drive. Even when he's being a little brat. He's still begging for Steve to take charge. To lay a firm hand against his body, guiding him. 

Steve never used to feel comfortable being in control of anything, not really, not even in his King Steve days. But he's learned to enjoy it, to do this with Eddie. Would do anything for Eddie.

He's slicked up his dick, and made sure Eddie is actually ready, and he is, before pressing inside. 

Eddie makes the most beautiful sound Steve's ever heard. A happy whine, and Steve thinks he's done good. Done right by Eddie. 

And that's all he ever wants to do. 

Make him happy. No matter what that entails. 

Even that comes from making him suffer, just a little bit, first.

"Don't you even think about coming before me," Steve demands, and Eddie whines about that, too.

Steve presses his fingers into Eddie's hips as he fucks him, and Eddie is finally behaving now that he's gotten exactly what he wanted. Head hung low, relaxed in his total submission.

That won't do. Not at all.

"What? Nothing to say now? No running commentary?" Steve goads.

Eddie says nothing, and Steve's not sure he can right now.

But he squeezes down on Steve's dick, and it makes Steve smile. He rubs his hip bone, thumbing the sharp point of it. 

"C'mon, it's the closest thing I get to hearing a sports play-by-play these days." 

Eddie scoffs, and Steve is baiting him. He watches sports all the time, much to Eddie's pissing and moaning. 

"This is entrapment, Harrington," Eddie finally breathes out. 

It is. It definitely is.

"I think you like it when I'm bratty," Eddie adds, his forehead resting against the mattress, his voice a little muffled.

Steve smiles, where Eddie can't see, "Lies." 

He feels so good, open and slick, and Steve fucks him with long, hard strokes. Well practiced, after so many years together. Eddie's so fucking wet, he must have used an overabundance of lube.

Steve shifts his hips, changing his angle, and works over Eddie's prostate. Over and over, with precision, trying to shove Eddie to the precipice without toppling him over it. He wants Eddie to feel like he's gonna fail, but not actually fail. 

Eddie whines, hanging his head, loose and limp. Finally, completely pliant. Trusting Steve.

And Steve keeps him there, dangling on the edge. Brushing past his prostate on every third stroke, then every fifth, every tenth. Backing off as he reads Eddie's body language. Eddie's loose, basically melted, but Steve can still tell. Can still read him like an open book. He knows everything there is to know about Eddie Munson.

It's the hardest he's ever studied in his whole life.

And Steve knows that Eddie's gonna come, soon.

So, Steve lets go of his own control, and shoves right into Eddie's prostate one more time, dick jerking as he empties himself into Eddie and Eddie whines, coming untouched all over the sheets below.

After Steve, as directed, like a good fucking boy.

Steve pulls out, and slaps him on the ass one more time, but this time in a good game sort of way, and Eddie laughs, wet and amused. 

"I have no bones, my bones have gone," Eddie says, collapsing to the sheets, laying in his own wet spot and not giving a flying fuck. 

Steve will just have to clean him up. Take care of him. So, Steve rubs his back, and then presses his thumb against Eddie hole. Loose and wet, so fucking wet.

Steve leans down and runs his tongue over it, flat and soothing, and Eddie sighs, content, "That feels good."

Steve rubs his hand on Eddie's ass cheek, and Eddie tries to spread his legs further, as Steve presses his tongue to him, over and over, cleaning him up, soothing him. 

And then Eddie is finally quiet, finally still. Because he's fallen asleep.

Steve will have to move him, have to clean up the bed, but for now, he just rests his cheek against Eddie's bare side, throwing his arm over Eddie's damp thighs, now wet with sweat instead of water from the shower, and closes his eyes.

And smiles.

Steve does like it. The brattiness. Lives for it, honestly. Longs for that spark in Eddie's eyes, asking, begging, pleading, trusting Steve to do something about it. Trusting Steve to do so many things that Eddie will love, even if he pretends he doesn't, the whole goddamn way.

That is, until Eddie is finally settled and still, satisfied, just like he is in this very moment. Lightly snoring, a sound that is music to Steve's ears. Background noise that means he's home.

And Steve presses his lips to Eddie's skin, loving on him a little bit more.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @subeddieweek and follow along with the fun! 🖤

My other fics for this challenge week:

Day One Day Two Day Four Day Five Day Six Day Seven

[oneforthemunny]

light my morning sky |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|

prompt: three wedding ceremonies, and it's stop number two in vegas. a night with your friends, celebrating you the way both of you love, and it leads to a rather intense wedding night for the two of you in sin city.

contains: minors dni. smut. fluff but mainly smut. drugs and alcohol, overall just partying in vegas. getting married in vegas. dom!eddie x sub!reader. bratty overtones to sub!reader. more of a soft!dom with rockstar!eddie bc he's in loooveeeee. spanking with implement (paddle/crop). thigh riding kinda. crawling. pinvsex. language. nothing too harsh or mean bc it's their (second) wedding night lol.

"I now pronounce you married." Elvis, or one of his many replicas on the strip, rasped in his low, exaggerated drawl mimicking the beloved singer. His hair perfectly coiffed, sideburns trimmed, and dressed in a black jumpsuit with wings, red and gold sequins trim.

Flamboyant, over the top- it was Eddie's dream.

Eddie grinned at you, his hands in yours, thumb brushing over the large stone on your left hand. He looked like The King himself in his white tasseled suit, pointed collar, and blue beading down the deep V of his shirt- an identical suit made to look exactly like Elvis' infamous jumpsuit from his time in Las Vegas in the 70's. It had been a prop in some show your father was producing, one that you and Eddie borrowed after the wedding.

"Eddie, you may now kiss your little darlin' here." The officiant grinned, stepping back towards the faux-rose garland, strung with bright lights.

Your heart swelled in your chest, just as light and giddy as the first ceremony, letting Eddie cup your face, pulling you in to seal with a kiss, far more passionate and needy than the ceremony in California.

Cheers erupted from the small crowd of friends you'd rallied for the big day- well, the second big day. Their booze soaked giggles and screeches mashed to the tune of Can't Help Falling In Love pouring out of the static filled old speakers. Flashes blinded your vision, even behind your closed eyes, camera clicks and bright snaps of camera light capturing every moment.

For a moment, you tensed, aware of your rounded shoulders, of Eddie's hand grabbing at your ass, eyes opening and cutting towards the aisle. Jonathan stood there, face hidden by the camera. Eddie had insisted his friend from Hawkins come instead, replace the snooty photographer that had done the ceremony before. Your parents had raved about him, but Eddie didn't see what the big deal was with him. He just made you both look so stiff, so unnatural in your portraits.

Eddie's hand slid up the silk material of your tiny dress, gripped onto your hip, bunching the material. You could feel his wedding band in the small of your back when he pressed his hand there, steadying you before he tipped you back. A deep dip of a kiss, your thigh hiked around his hip.

The small bouquet of white roses you'd bought at the front of the chapel fell onto the patterned carpet, your friends' screeching and whooping laughs ignited by the dramatics. They expected nothing less from Eddie- from both of you.

"Lord have mercy," The officiant laughed, fanning himself dramatically, long metallic sleeves rippling. "These two have lots of hunk-a, hunk-a burnin' love, don't they folks?"

Eddie could feel your lips twitch against his, a snort of a giggle, hot air blowing against his lip. His dopey and dimpled grin met you when you finally pulled apart. It left you weak, blistering in his intense, love filled gaze.

A pop of Perignon filled the room, Gareth and Farrah bumbling closer with two glasses, trying to stop the excess spilling over. A celebratory toast to the two of you, to keep your buzz going after the break in the bender you took for the ceremony.

Since you'd landed on Thursday night, the party hadn't stopped. Liquor flowing, loud music, sloppily piling into a stall with your own friends, taking bumps off your room keys before stumbling back to the club in your designer shoes, ready to keep the party going.

The afterparty was no different. Tucked away in a private villa at Ceasar's, you didn't make it to the club. Eddie had insisted he had to go first, nearly pushing Jeff over to get to the door, scooping you up in his arms and walking you through the door.

"Watch your fuckin' head, baby- don't lean back." You could smell the alcohol on his breath, a pungent mixture of too many to name, mixed with the faintest whiff of smoke from his cigarettes.

It didn't take long for Nick to find the boom box, blaring his party mixtape at a wall shaking volume, everyone scattering. Some to the kitchen to scour through the piles of empty bottles for a full one, others to collapse into the couch and let someone line up a pick me up before plunging in the hot tub outside.

"You," Eddie slurred, his head dipping down to press against your forehead. "Look so fuckin' beautiful." Nose brushing against yours, red from his own party favors.

You giggled nasally, blinking blearily eyed to focus on him to close to you. The effects of the tequila and champagne and hodge podge of liquor you'd mixed and consumed catching up with you.

"You know what, baby? You look really good, Mr. Munson." You whispered, hand cupping his jaw. "Like- hic!- too good to be fucking true."

"You're sweet talkin' me? Huh? Bein' s'nice to me?" Eddie grinned, fingers sinking into your hips.

"Yeah." You hummed.

"Tryna get my pants off or somethin', huh, baby? G-Get in my pants by bein' so sweet? You think that's gonna work?" Eddie teased, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeahhh..." You nodded, staggering against him, manicured nails raking down his bare chest. "We have to- to consummate the marriage, Ed."

"What?" Eddie furrowed his brows. "We gotta do what? Wait- I thought you wanted to fuck."

You laughed, head tilting back letting out that mean little cackle that always got Eddie worked up- a little mocking, mostly genuine. It left him flushed in heat, crawling up his chest and splattering over his cheeks.

"You dumbass, that is what that means." You rolled your eyes at him.

Eddie's eyes narrowed with you, catching your chin easily. "Oh? That's how you wanna play tonight, hm?" He shook his head, your body erupting in a fiery heat. "You're not gonna be nice to me?"

"I'm always nice to you." You countered, hand closing around his wrist gently, steadying yourself. "You're the one who's mean."

"Yeah?" Eddie grinned, eyes shining, glimmering in the low light of the room, the music from the other side thudding in a low roar, still shaking the walls. "You want me to be mean to you tonight? That's how you wanna do this?"

"Yeah." You sighed, a devious little grin that had Eddie's heart swelling, body buzzing with bouts of electricity. A shock to his system that brought him into something animalistic and primal and thrilling. Something new he only felt with you.

"I was hopin' you'd want to. Figured you would. Went ahead and got you a little somethin'." Eddie hummed, pulling you close into him. His breath hot on your cheek, booze soaked and warm on your skin.

"A gift?" Your eyes lit up, bright and devious all at once. Positively troublesome.

"Yeah. A gift. Just for you, baby." Eddie's lip dragged over your cheek, nose, hands sliding up your neck into your hair. "A wedding gift, but-but not for the wedding. For the after."

"Mm," You moaned lightly, his lips brushing with yours, teasing. Just enough to make you want to kiss him fully, leave you waiting and wanting more. "It's after now, Ed." You batted your lashes up at him.

"Is it?" Eddie muttered, fingers curling around your hair the back of your head.

"Yeah." You whispered, voice raspy from the liquor. "Time to give me my gift."

"Ooh, you're gonna be demanding?" Eddie pulled back from you, holding you at arms length so he could see you. Your pout, glassy eyes rounding instinctively- a classic look, teetering on demanding and begging, a signature look for you.

"'M not being demanding." You huffed, hands sliding over his arms. He could feel the diamonds of your wedding band scratch lightly over his skin. "You said you had a gift for me."

Eddie bit back a smirk, squeezing your shoulders with firm, gentle affection. You grinned triumphantly when he stumbled to his closet, puling a red gift bag tied together with a gold bow.

He smirked at your squeal of delight, hands clapping together excitedly when he gave you the bag. "What is it?" You beamed, a peal of excited, drunken giggles spilling from your chest.

"Open it." Eddie clicked, shaking his head at you. "What's in it- open the damn thing, baby. It's a present. 'M not tellin' you w-what I got you." His words slurred, still silly and playful.

You laughed, head spinning and intoxicatingly airy with glee, unraveling the gold spun ribbon with a dramatic tug of your hand. Underneath the piles of tissue paper, a long box lied at the bottom.

There, inside the felt lined box, a small heart shaped paddled. Black and leather, with a black, metal handle. It was small, smaller than most of Eddie's chosen paddles. The heart shape at the end firmer than the crop, not as flimsy as you expected.

"Look," Eddie pointed, swaying gently in front of you. He turned the handle clumsily around his hands before he turned it to you. There in etched gold, your names and the date carved into the metal handle.

"Ed." You cooed, head tilting back to meet his gaze. "You got this f'me?"

"Well, kinda." Eddie nodded. "I mean, for me to use on you, but yeah. Wanted something to-to remember this by."

Lips pulling in a smile, you stood, arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him flush to your own chest. "You're so sweet." You hum, swaying with him softly. "So sweet to me."

Eddie's cheeks flushed, matching the drunken red heat painted on his neck. "Yeah." He hummed, hands sliding over your cheeks, smearing your already rubbed off foundation, tilting your head back towards him.

"'M not gonna be sweet to you f'long." He muttered, lip twitching in a curling grin. Staticky prickles of excitement licked at your neck, shimmering all the way down to your core. Eddie's tongue ran over his teeth, brow raising. "That alright with you, baby?"

"Yes." You whispered, nails digging into his hands lightly, steadying yourself.

Eddie caught your chin, pulling your gaze towards him. "Who?" His tone dropped, low and raspy but punctuated.

The nervous, maybe excited, giggle spilled out of your lips before you could stop it. Eyes shining, swaying with excitement, you batted your lashes towards him. "Yes, Sir." You purred, hands sliding, nails raking down his forearms.

Eddie grinned, ducking down to catch your lips in a hungry kiss. Hand pressed to the small of your spine, you could taste the liquor on his tongue as it slid past your teeth. A sloppy, needy, alcohol fueled make out. Hands grabbing, pulling at the other, pushing your bodies closer and closer together until it felt like they might fuse together, mold into one. Hands sliding, bunching the material of your dress up your hips.

"Wait!" Your eyes flew open, pulling apart with an urgency that had Eddie jumping.

"What? What's wrong?" Eddie's brows furrowed, vision fading blearily in and out of focus.

"I forgot," You turned towards your suitcase. "I bought something special for tonight. S-Somethin' to put on." You muttered, swaying drunkenly, hands on his waist to steady yourself.

"Baby, it's alright. Just save it for tomorrow-"

"-No." Your tone was cutting, huffy with a hint of demanding- bratty. You did it best, Eddie supposed, his cock twitching at the sound.

He wanted to grab the paddle, haul you over his knee right then, feel you scratch and scream at him like old times. Instead, he let you stomp off, bunching a flash of white material to your chest, stumbling towards the bathroom.

It was worth it, Eddie decided. Legs spread on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing with anticipation until the doors opened.

"Are you ready?" He could hear your grin, hidden by the door.

"Yeah. Show me, baby. Come on out." Eddie's lips tugged in a half grin.

The door opened painfully slow, your own teasing reveal, until you stood before him in a tiny, white, see through lacy lingerie set. A classic, more scandalous and revealing than before. Bra and panties so revealing it left little to the imagination, hip hugging garter that connected to two leg holders, both with their own loops. Eddie pictured for a moment tying you up by them, stringing the rope through them, tying your legs wide open and spending the rest of the night- hell, the whole week in between them.

Maybe tomorrow night. Tonight, he had other plans.

Eddie's loud wolf whistle mixed with your bubbling giggles. "Holy shit, baby, look at you. No, look at me, but I wanna look at you." Eddie rasped, hands sliding over your exposed skin, rubbing the lace of your garter, pulling the tiny strap of your panties so it snapped to your skin.

"You like it?" You whispered, watching his eyes carefully. You knew he did. He always did.

"You kidding? Love it." Eddie grinned. "Worth the wait, beautiful."

Your cheeks burned with a rush of euphoric excitement, hands sliding up his shoulder, your ring sparkling even under the dim lights of the room.

"Ok, I'm ready now." You said boldly, lashes batting up to Eddie sweetly. "I just wanted to put this on for you."

"Oh? You're ready?" Eddie snorted lightly, lips curling in a smirk. "You callin' the shots?"

You huffed, an eye roll that had Eddie swallowing hard, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock. "No," Your tongue clicked sarcastically. "Obviously you're in charge for right now."

"Oh, it's like that?" Eddie scoffed. "You're gonna act like that?"

"I'm not acting like anything, Ed." You bit your lip playfully. "I don't know what you're talking about." Oh, you were playful tonight. Eddie's heart swelled, palms twitching with excitement.

"Hm," Eddie hummed, tongue running down the inside of his cheek.

"Why don't you go get your gift." Eddie nodded towards the discarded paddle at the other end of the bed. You stepped towards it. "Nuh-uh-uh." Eddie clicked, head shaking.

"You know how you're supposed to get things for me." His eyes darkened, narrowing towards you.

Your thighs twitched, aching between them with a familiar heat. "Ed," Whiny and nasally, shoulders slumping for effect.

"You're gonna whine? C'mon, I know you know better." Eddie shook his head. "I don't wanna be mean to you tonight. Not too mean, anyways. Don't make me be mean. Go get your gift and bring it here, you know what to do. You be good for me, and I'll be good to you."

It didn't take much convincing, not when your head was spinning the way it was, desperate to please him. You knew he was true to his word, that he'd make you feel so good, which was exactly why you sunk to your knees. Crawling across the carpeted floors, you crept slowly towards the paddle.

Eddie watched through heavy lids, the sway of your hips, tiny panties riding up into your ass with every crawl. Your eyes met his when you raised up, gently grabbing the paddle off the bed. Eddie's heart lurched with excitement when you slipped it between your teeth, sinking back to your knees.

"Holy shit... Baby," Eddie groaned, leg shaking furiously when you rounded the corner of the bed, crawling straight for him. "Look at you. Jesus Christ, you know what you're doin'?"

You sunk back on your knees, settling between Eddie's open legs, eyes rounded so sweetly up at him it answered his question- you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

"'M just trying to be good." You whispered sweetly, head tilting to the side when he took to the paddle from you. "I just want to be so good for you always and forever, Mr. Munson."

Eddie thought he might snap the paddle in half, grip strangling in a tight hold around the pole. For a second, he contemplated again diving right between your legs, kinky foreplay be damned. Instead, he pulled you over his knee, let you straddle his thigh, covered cunt hot on his knee.

"Look at me." Eddie rasped, pulling your chin up, letting it rest on his chest, your body folded over his. "I wanna look at you. Wanna see you the whole time."

You pressed your lips together, swallowing back a pathetic whine. One hand cradling the back of your head, the other dragging the paddle along your exposed cheeks.

"You wanna be good for me?" Eddie whispered. You didn't reply, didn't get the chance to before the paddle snapped onto your ass. A jump, a whine, followed by Eddie's coaxing whisper back onto his knee.

"I asked you somethin', sweetheart." Eddie muttered, the crop tapping your other cheek. "You wanna be good for me?" Two sharp hits one to each cheek had you hissing.

"Yes." You hissed through gritted teeth, stilling your hips not to grind on him, hump his leg mercilessly. You knew that'd just fuel his cruel teasing even more.

"Yeah?" You yelped at the sharp sting.

"Yes, I wanna be good for you." Your spine ached at the uncomfortable bend in position, still you didn't dare move. It was true, you did want to be good for him.

"Are you going to be good for me?" Eddie whispered, nose nearly touching yours.

You bit back a giggle, stopped by three more sharp spanks of the crop to your ass, already itchy with growing agitation. "Yeah." Your eyes shone up at Eddie's, a silly, love sick grin that had him swooning.

"Yeah?" Eddie mocked back with a light snort. It was growing harder to keep the mean, domineering persona he tried to. When you were being this sweet, when you were being so good for him.

The crop fell again, this time your hips did roll. Just enough to dull the ache between your legs, a momentary release that had you melting further into his chest.

Eddie didn't miss it, pulling you closer to him, readjusting you on his thigh. "I don't know if I believe you." Eddie hummed, cracking the crop down again in short, sharp successions. "Are you really gonna be good to me? For the rest of time?"

You whimpered, hips rocking slowly, a steady rhythm that nearly had your eyes rolling back. The burning stretch of your ass mixed with the slow, pleasure-filled rolls of your hips.

"I will, I promise." You hummed in a high, breathy tone. "I swear I will be. I'll be a good wife for you. Forever and ever and ever."

Eddie's heart nearly burst at the words. How sweet they still sounded, even if you had technically been his wife for a few weeks now.

He let the paddle fall, his hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you into his lap. Lips on yours, your legs wrapping around his hips before he rolled the two of you, body slotting over yours, drunken giggles filling the air.

Hand intertwining with the other, Eddie's eyes rolled back at the feeling of your ring scraping over his when he finally slid into you. Mrs. Munson, forever. Forever his, just as he was forever yours.

Eddie had you pressed against the window of the suite, hips rutting into the fat of your ass, marked with the etching heart shape of the paddle. Overlooking the city's skyline, the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. Your cheek pressed to the window, Eddie's pressed to yours, skin smushed to skin, the two of you weren't close to being done. Just getting started, started on forever, started on a life together.

For now, in a hotel room in Vegas, insatiably happy and in love with one another. Mr. and Mrs. Munson, for the second time.

[hawkinsbnbg]

Steve had always been a daddy’s boy. Richard, though strict sometimes, still spoiled him plenty.

Thus, even when he went to college, he still texted and called his dad to ask for whatever he wanted.

There wouldn't be any problems if he hadn't mistaken one of his contacts for Richard's one bleary morning.

———

Steve: you told me to get a new car

Steve: but how can i get it without any money?

Prof. M: ?

Steve: don't ? me 😒 if you gave me back my card, i wouldn't have to wake you up this early

Prof. M: how much?

Steve blinked owlishly, surprised that Richard didn't start lecturing him on how to spend his money like usual.

He shrugged. Strange or not, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Steve: it's up to you, daddy

Steve: also don't forget to send me this month's allowance 😘

Prof. M: ?

Steve: stop ?ing me

Rolling his eyes at his dad's weird behavior, Steve checked the notification when his banking app tinged and grinned widely.

Goddamn.

This was a lot even for Richard's standard. If he spent carefully, he could buy more than just a new sport car.

Steve: thanks daddy 🥰

Steve: i promise to work harder next semester and won't skip classes anymore

Prof. M: it's not much, but can you stop calling me daddy now?

Frowning at the text, Steve pressed the call button, wanting to ask what was Richard's problem now.

"Daddy, are you mad at me again?"

"I'm not mad at you, Mr. Harrington, and I'm certainly not your dad, either," an amused voice sounded in his ear.

Horrified, Steve belatedly realized that he wasn’t talking to his dad at all.

He pulled his phone away as if he was burnt and saw Prof. Munson staring back at him mockingly.

"I'm so sorry, sir," He squeaked out. "I, uhm, didn't mean to ask for your money!"

"Don't worry," the man chuckled warmly. "If it means you won't skip my classes in the future, then it's worth it."

And suddenly, Steve remembered the massive crush he had on this man when he had followed Robin him into the criminal behavior class.

Those whiskey eyes would forever ingrain in his dream.

"But this is still too much, sir," Steve worried his bottom lip, feeling his cheeks and tummy warm with embarrassment. "I can return it to you, Professor."

"Just keep it," the man said calmly. "Can I call you Steve?"

"Yes, sir," Steve mumbled, heart thumping hard in his chest.

"So Steve, go get your car or whatever you want," the man huffed out a quiet laugh. "Just remember that you owe me all of my classes until you graduate."

When Steve put his phone down, he buried his face into his hands and squealed, kicking his legs and punching the air in elation.

In the following semesters, Steve was praised by his parents for improving his grades and not wasting money on "meaningless things" anymore.

They didn't need to know that it was all thanks to Professor Munson who had kept him in line.

And also lavished him with too many gifts and affection to be considered professional.

[plistommy]

Head full of thoughts about Billy and Eddie fucking King Steve at a party, making the boy scream out their names as they take him hard and deep in his parents bed….

[bloodibambiidoll]

18+MNDI

Imagine you’re out with Eddie all day going to band practice and running errands.

You were tired and grumpy that morning so he tried to convince you to stay home but you insisted on going because you wanted to spend time with him on your day off.

Then you proceeded to be a giant brat the entire day.

You wore this tiny little skirt, his favorite skirt. You kept bending over in front of him and wiggling around on his lap at practice every chance you got. (He knew what you were doing, trying to get him to cut the day short to take you home and fuck you but he wasn’t falling for that shit.)

You were hell bent on staying in the car and then complained he took too long when he had to stop for new guitar strings.

Just to top it all off you started an argument with him and caused a scene in the store over which cheese to get and at that point he was done.

He didn’t say a word to you the entire drive home. When he pulled into your driveway he turned off the van, walked around to let you out of the car without so much of a glance and then brought the groceries inside.

“Put these away. Then meet me in the room when you’re done.” He still didn’t look at you, just went in your bedroom and shut the door.

At this point you knew you were fucked, and honestly? You weren’t even mad about it.

You put the groceries away before making your way to the room. When you opened the door your mouth watered and your thighs clenched.

Eddie was sitting on the edge of the bed shirtless with his legs spread. Jeans still on his legs and boots still on his feet. He was holding the paddle in one hand and the other pointed toward the ground in front of him.

“Kneel.”

You audibly gulped before scrambling over in front of him and dropping to your knees.

“You practically begged to go with me this morning, then proceeded to spend the entire day teasing me and complaining about wanting to go home. So here’s what’s going to happen, doll. You’re going to bend down and kiss and lick my boots clean, like the naughty girl that you are. Then afterwards I’m going to spank that little ass until I feel like you’ve learned your lesson.”

You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around his ankles, kissing one boot then the other.

“Yes sir. I’m sorry sir.”

“Looks like you can be a good girl. Now stick your tongue out…”

(I saw this photo and couldn’t stop thinking about this.)

[hotluncheddie]

santa baby

just a little silly thing for christmas <3

rated: T | cw: none | tags: chubby eddie, established relationship, fluff, they’re in love

❆⋆꙳•☃︎⋆꙳•✩⋆꙳•❅

‘is this outfit giving santa enough that rob won’t bitch at me over not being festive?’

steve has just finished doing his hair so it looks acceptable beneath the elf hat he made. matched with his green and red striped shirt it’s more than good enough for robins holiday party, even with its die hard ‘dress festive’ rule.

steve looks over and eddies in his usual tight black jeans and big black winter boots. but the weight he gained has gone straight to his belly, pushing out against his red sweater. it’s tucked into his jeans and his belly rests on the big gold belt buckle that holds them up. he’s also been playing with growing his facial hair out so there’s a shadow of dark stubble over his cheeks and chin. it makes him look older, more mature.

steve’s mouth fills with spit.

his brain can’t seem to form words but suddenly he’s filled with about twice the normal amount of blood. he feels it make his cheeks go ruddy. pink up to the tips of his ears and down his chest. feels all that annoying new blood flow south.

‘oh, stevie.’ eddie coos, instantly catching steve out. ‘is the santa look doing it for you?’ his smile is delighted and teasing.

steve flushes even more and pouts. they’ve gotta go out soon and now his stupid boyfriend has filled him with blood.

‘baby, you are so cute.’ eddie steps over to the bed, setting down and letting his thighs spread wide, his bulge noticeable, soft pecks becoming more pronounced.

‘cm’ere, come sit on santas lap big boy.’ eddie pats his leg and steve bites his lip, huffing a little whine.

but the red santa hat compliments eddie’s rosy cheeks, the width of his smile. even if you can’t quiet see his dimples through the beard anymore. steve swoons all over again. call it Christmas magic or whatever, his boyfriend is hot.

‘you’re so dumb.’ steve rolls his eyes but goes over and curls himself into eddie’s lap, breathing in the smell of cologne at his neck.

eddie pinches his chin and lifts steve face up for a kiss. ‘m’rry christmas baby.’ eddie pecks steve’s nose.

‘merry christmas.’ steve sighs, eyelashes fluttering closed, leaning in close. ‘love you.’ and eddie kisses him, full of tongue and heat, and love.