CONFESSION
eddie x fem! reader
TW: no minors, heavy degrading themes of the Catholic Church, smut, corruption kink, virginity loss, Eddie posing as a priest. Slight daddy kink, rosaries not used properly. Umm yeah it’s smut p in v, cum eating. Etc
a/n: I have no words, I’ll see you in the crimsoned room of hell, or purgatory— in that case, please pray me out.
Trudging with untied boots the thud of his clunky soles echo loud in the steeped ceiling of St. Mary’s. He stubs the lit end of his joint out in the holy water, sizzling and emitting one last pathetic puff of smoke. Dipping a tattooed middle finger into the holy water he makes a lame excuse for the sign of the cross, flicking whatever remnants of moisture left into the open air. Keeping his middle finger high for the man on the cross.
Every Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday nights at 7 o'clock on the dot, he had come to the brick built and heavily waxed wooden floored church to repent.
Father Hopper had gone easy on Eddie when he found him trying to hot wire his car. Punishing him to thirty confessions stretched over two months time.
Father knew Wayne Munson was on the verge of a thin line of patience, and Eddie was on his last strike with Hawkins PD, next step was prison. A shared cell with the other Munson and ex resident of Hawkins currently known as inmate #89432.
Fuck it, I’ll go to jail what the hell do I care? Eddie spat at the rickety table in Father Hopper’s poorly lit kitchen.
“Son,” Father began, sipping a bitter cup of coffee, thumb nails scratching against the ceramic mug, “you don’t want to end up like him.”
“Well. I sure as hell ain’t gonna end up like you. White robes and that cardboard dog collar you wear— yeah fuckin’ right.”
That was back in May. What started as a desperate plea to steal a car and possibly sell it to get enough money to skip the prying eyes and whispering licks of gossip tongues about how he hadn’t graduated, again, — ended with him getting assigned the confessions.
A stuffy little closet with Hopper’s coffee breath stenching through a grated screen. The dark walls seems to close in on him as he confessed to petty crimes and sex on Sundays.
Leaning against the desk that held glass orbs of candles, he spits in the nearest one. The flame sizzling out. And that’s when he hears it.
A small giggle from the pew nearest him.
He had seen you around school. Clutching your school books to your chest as you were shoved into walls and lockers. A ghost among the popular chicks and dicks. But never to him.
He himself was an outcast and truth be told he didn’t remember the time he hawked a lougie into Jason’s milk carton and stubbed a cigarette into his hamburger after Jason had purposefully knocked your lunch tray out of your hands. The cheap plastic tray hitting the tiled floor with a clank.
He might remember but you remembered the way his smile pearled big and pretty, his long lashes dusting the tops of his cheeks as he winked your way, and the way your panties clung with wetness at your heated lips.
His whiskey dark eyes bore into your head as he says your name slow, like reciting a prayer. His long legs swing as he struts cockily towards you. Middle of the summer and he’d shed his leather armor. Red flannel open revealing a tanned tattooed chest. Sleeves cut off showcasing muscly trailer park strong arms. Jeans hacked off above the knee.
His smirk danced across his lips, tongue poking out to wet his lips. He had trouble written all over him. And damn did he wear it well.
“Don’t tell me you’re here to confess the sins committed against our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ?”
Your legs cross and thighs rub together. A pulse awakening between your legs.
“Amen,” you giggle nervously, hiding behind heated cheeks.
Leaning his long frame against the edge of the pew, he throws a worn heavy boot over onto the seat, next to your clenched thighs under the white sundress.
He leans down, over his knee, his long curls dancing with his gesturing head, he’s leaning close and you can see the reds fading his eyes and the skunked smell of weed. Still that smile has you melting.
“So what are you in for? Forget to genuflect before sitting down last Sunday?”
His joke earns a smile from you and seeing your lips pull your cheeks up has him twitching in his jeans.
“No,” you roll your eyes in a girlish way, batting your lashes, “it’s not that.”
“Ah!” Eddie says jumping up, “no bother, I don’t think Father Hopper isn’t gonna show anyway.”
You don’t mean to frown and Eddie almost laughs out loud at your pout.
Strict as your parents were, they were demanding that you needed to confess for your sins. They were already pissed you skipped out on college, might as well take 10 years off school, you’ll never go, they hated your job, hated even more that you didn’t really have friends outside of the “weird Buckley girl.”
By the end of this month you’d have enough money saved up to move out, and oh how you couldn’t wait.
The dirty word slips before you catch it. Hands covering your mouth quickly, the heat on your cheeks burning deeper. You peer at Eddie with big eyes.
He cracks a slow smile and leans forward. Licking his chapped lips again. He’s so close to you you can see every eyelash in high definition.
“That’s another sin, one more and the floor will open and we’ll both be engulfed into the fiery pits of hell.”
“Actually I think it’s purgat—”
A ringed finger is placed vertically to your lips, shushing you from finishing. The satin feel of your lips on his rugged finger makes him ache against the teeth of his zipper.
Tracing your face with his eyes they dip down the slope of your nose and past the curve of your lips, the delicate pink rosary is hung on your neck with such daintiness it’s almost in open invitation.
He about chokes when the goosebumps rise on your throat from his stare, a bead of sweat trickling in between your tits.
Dark eyes swim into yours, and his smile is impish, full of wicked delight, “Let’s go.”
His hand snakes down your shoulder and he grabs your wrist in a light but thick grip. Beckoning you with a sinful smirk.
“To where?” You manage after peeling your tongue from the roof of your mouth.
“Time to confess for that dirty mouth.” Eddie says matter of fact, turning his head and dragging you to the confessional booth. “C’mon I’ll act as Father.”
Eddie pulls you into the small wooden door in the back of the church opening it for you in a gentlemanly manner ending in a bow.
He rushes you in with snapping fingers and a growl making you squeal.
Sitting behind the screen where Hopper usually sat Eddie beckons you to sit in his usual assigned seat.
He makes a backwards sign of the cross with his left hand and folds his fingers, clearly his throat and using a deep baritone voice, “tell me your sins, sweet girl.”
When you giggle, Eddie flicks the screen, “this is serious shit— confess to me.”
You begin the way your parents had you rehearse at home.
“Bless me Father— wait, should I call you that?”
“Daddy works best,” Eddie says without missing a beat. And your pussy clenches around nothing.
“Bless me,” you hesitate on the word, but Eddie raises his eyebrows to encourage you so you start again, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly.
“B- Bless me, Daddy, for I have sinned, my last confession was 10 weeks ago.”
“That’s a long time ago,” he tsks, berating you, “have you not sinned in these last 10 weeks?”
Fingers threading the hem of your dress you answer, “I- I have.”
Eddie palms himself at your innocence. “Well?”
“I— Eddie—”
“Excuse me? My title in this confessional is Daddy please do not make me correct you again,”
“Sorry, Daddy.”
“Good girl,” Eddie purrs. Sending shocks to your clit. “Continue.”
Clearing your throat you stroke the beads of the rosary hung against your neck. Counting ten, a small skip, another bead, then ten more.
“I was.. experimenting.”
“Drugs?” Eddie asks, chuckling in genuine shock, he didn’t think a girl like you would smoke, “yes the devils lettuce is tempting.”
He flicks his lighter open and lights another joint he had tucked in his pocket for the ride home.
“But we must stop these temptations before they start, plus who are you buying from because I need to know if I have competition.”
You move your head to the side and continue thumbing the pink pearly beads in your fingers. The clack of your nails against the beads fill the quiet smoke hung room.
“No… it wasn’t drugs.”
Eddie’s mind flips like a magazine.
“Oh yes the alcohol, another temp—”
“Wrong again.”
Eddie’s frustration peaks, “well I’m not a fucking mind reader so do you wanna explain yourself?”
“I— I was.. I was touching myself.”
“Oh fuckin, Christ..” it’s mumbled and breathy but you hear it all the same, sending a slick to your pussy from your admission and Eddie’s shock.
He’s rock hard. The zipper on his jeans scream, begging for any sort of release. He needs to know more.
“Do explain,” he says intrigued, leaning forward, his hands folded under his chin.
Adjusting yourself in the wooden chair you cross your legs, and Eddie barely witnesses the white cotton snug between your thighs, the sneak peek having him swallow hard.
Taking a breath you go into detail about the videotape you had gotten from the adult section of Family Video. How you had only watched it once and the volume was muted, but you couldn’t get it out of your mind.
The way the woman’s mouth curved into an “O” when the man was pleasuring her. The size of the man’s penis and the way it slapped against his stomach when released from his jeans. How the woman’s perked nipples were firm but looked soft against the man’s tongue.
Eddie’s drool is wiped from his mouth at your explicit confession, and he starts to palm himself over his jeans when you explain how you had started rubbing yourself over your underwear at night.
Thinking you were about to have your first ever orgasm but weren’t able to finish because your mother had walked in on you, legs spread wide on your comforter, toes curling. As you were using the barrel of a curling iron to rub at your clothed clit.
The embarrassment from repeating the story to Eddie made your cheeks heat, and you hid behind your hair.
The silence is speaking volumes. The only noise is the cream of the wooden seat as you shift again, a flutter in your stomach as Eddie thinks of his punishment for you.
“Sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, a hiss on his tongue as he moves from behind the screen, wedging himself between you and the wall, his long frame leaning against the mahogany.
Ringed fingers tapping along the plump of his lips, his hard cock outlined through his jeans, “You are a filthy, naughty girl.”
You scoff, “I am not!”
“Oh baby, you are,” Eddie says, boxing you in, “but, I know just the thing to…cleanse you of your sins.” He licks his lips again and stares you down. And you're certain you're looking into Satan’s eyes.
“Wh—” you stutter, having to clear your throat, swallowing thickly and dabbing at the sweat on your neck, “what do you have in mind?”
Eddie’s wayward curls skim the top of your chest as his lips curve around the shell of your ear, he smells like cigarettes and laundry soap, “bad girls get spanked.”
Gasping, he laughs at your shocked face. “I don’t make the rules babe, ok I made that one up, but this is for you swearing in the house of the Lord, now,” he gestures a thumb over his shoulder, “get up, you’re gonna need to be on my lap.”
You do as you're told, standing chest to chest with Eddie. Only this time it’s you licking your lips. One stretch up on tipped toes and your lips could connect with his. The faint mark of a nicotine stain paints his bottom lip. You wonder if it would taste like it.
He grabs your hips and swivels you around, his rings dig into the soft cotton on your dress, his nails scratching the fabric as he takes his seat. The wooden chair groaning on the sudden weight.
Leaning back in the chair he smiles wickedly, legs spread wide, he rubs his lap, tapping for you to come closer.
When your body is laid flat against him, you pull at the hem of your skirt to keep your modesty.
“This punishment is just for the dirty words,” Eddie explains. His ringed fingers walk along your spine, trailing down your back and up the fat of your ass.
He lays a warm hand on your cheeks and rubs it gently. Squeezing every so often.
Eddie's cock is hard under your ribs and your pussy flutters at the size of him. He hums and jiggles your ass before explaining his rules for your indiscretion, “you are going to recite The Lord’s Prayer while I spank you. Understand?”
You nod dumbly and whimper when his left hand tickles up your thighs.
“Start.” He grunts.
You begin the Lord's Prayer just like you were taught, standing before joyful cheeked families in a similar white dress on your First Communion day.
“Our Father, who art in Heaven, Hallowed be th—”
A large hand comes down hard with a thwap! on your ass cheek, sending you forward and hitting your head on the wall.
“Oh,” Eddie whispers, not hiding the smile in his voice, “if you mess up— we start over. So don’t. Unless this naughty girl enjoys being spanked by daddy? Hmm?”
You nod again and continue. Trying hard to remember where you were. Hallowed be…
“.. Thy Name, Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done. On Eart—”
Two hands smack your ass at once like sticks beating a drum. The hem of your skirt is lifted past the sheer white panties you are wearing. Reaching for the end of your dress to pull it down Eddie grabs your wrist, putting your hand back where it belongs he issued another spanking.
This time he lifts your dress fully and groans at the sight in front of him. Your plump ass has all but swallowed the see thru fabric of your panties. Eddie sucks a breath in through his teeth and places his left hand in the thick of your thighs, warmed by the heat of your arousal, his thumb rubbing small circles.
Thy Kingdom… shit.
“Thy Kingdom c—” the hardest slap yet has rained down on your nearly bare skin, and it springs tears from your eyes.
Eddie smooths over the red mark left on your skin and his tone is irate when he spits, “you already said that sweetheart, start again.”
His fingers snake further up your legs and he groans at the feel of your soaked panties on his fingertips.
You start again. And the spankings Eddie delivers are swift and merciless. The harder he spanks the more you cry out.
Sweat pools between your thighs where Eddie’s hot hand is wedged, his thumb teasing the outline of your panties and pressing soft circles into the fabric.
Tears cling to your eyelashes as your punishment comes to an end, welts forming where his rings stung and clipped you.
Words of reassurance fall from his lips after every slap and harsh whack of his hands. When Eddie leans over to catch a rogue tear from your cheek before it hits the carpet, your thighs slam together tight with a snap.
The groan he lets out is guttural and low. His cock twitches underneath you again.
“..and lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil Am—- ow!”
Quick, hot tears sting your eyes. A jerk of your head reveals a sight you would never imagine seeing… let alone in a church.
Pearly, and oddly straight. The calcified and slightly sharp teeth pull out from the red, irritated skin on your ass.
“If you want to repent for your sins, you need to put your trust in me, can you do that baby… hmm? Can you listen and give yourself to me? It’s the only way you’ll be forgiven.”
A perfect dental record sunken in deep, small droplets of blood weep from the pierced flesh from his canines.
His lips are pulled back in a snarl, dark eyes gleam with a feral intensity so ferocious you’re instantly terrified. He looks like a wolf fighting for a meal.
Paralyzed with fear, your lungs spasm in shock as he flicks out his tongue, running the wet tip of the muscle along the pattern of his teeth grooved into your skin.
Each pass of his slicked tongue deepens the arousal in your lower stomach. His lips curve around the mark, kissing it better, his hooded eyes never leave yours.
You moan when the purpling bruise he’s sucking into your skin is greeted with the same poked teeth that bit you earlier.
His thick middle finger had your panties pulled to the side and your arousal is coated thick on his finger as he pushes past your puffy lips. A blunt fingernail sharp against your inner walls.
“Fuck,” he groans, dipping his finger into the impossibly tight well of your sweet pussy.
Eyes rolling into the back of your head, you mimic his moans and bite into your cheek. Hungry for the look of a broken gasp as your walls flutter and tighten around him.
World spinning and head rushing, Eddie has you upright and straddling his waist. when you start to question him he shushes you.
Taking the same finger he had plunged into your molten slicked pussy, he rubs the pad of it around your lips. Like a tube of chapstick during a cold winter, he coats them again and again, licking his own, his other hand is tight on your knee and gently skirting closer to your hip under your dress.
When he's satisfied with his art on your plump lips, he finally dives in, his breath hot on your skin and you part your mouth in a welcome for him.
But he only laughs.
A throaty chuckle that mocks you, as you wait for him to kiss you, wait for him to press his pinked lips to yours. Waiting for his tongue to devilishly lap at the corner of your mouth.
But all of his attention is zeroing down on the rosary around your neck.
Each bead is slick with sweat, warm to the touch against his thumb, as he counts them in his head, your throat gasping on each inhale. Whimpering and moving your hips against him.
Grabbing the rosary in his fist he pulls you closer to him, biting the fleshy lobe around the small gold hoops in your ears, his dick aches when you whine his name.
Huffed whispers tickle your ear and send shivers down your spine and flood your panties, “Such a dirty fucking girl, practically begging for me to fuck you.”
Another whine from your mouth and he’s bucking his hips into you, strained denim against wet lace.
“Is that what you want?” Eddie demands. His snake-like tongue tickling behind your ear, “all you have to do, is ask.”
“Please,” you beg, fingers curling into the flannel of his shirt, head thrown back as he circles your neck and paints hickies with his tongue.
“Not good enough, baby. Tell me how bad you want this little virgin hole filled.”
His hand finds it way under your skirt to the desperate slick of your panties, his fingers sliding around and making slow figure eights against your clit.
Tits bouncing as you move against his hand, hopelessly with no words you beg him with your body to give you relief. You whine again embarrassed to ask for what you craved, the sin that brought you here to begin with.
When you don’t say anything he retreats his hand. And you try to chase it as it slips away, you whimper pitifully again, and finally succumb to his demands.
All embarrassment gone as you beg him, plead for his cock, “Eddie, please.. please.. I’ve been so good,” you oughta be ashamed of yourself but you couldn’t care less— if he could make you feel this good by barely touching you, you’d be on your way to that glorified “O” in no time, and you can practically hear the Hallelujah chorus.
He chuckled cockily at your pleas, but shushes you as he unthreads his belt, and almost chokes when you gasp in awe at his thick veiny cock, slapping up to his belly with a thump and the pearling bead of cum seeping from the slit.
His thick ringed hand pumps himself as he lines himself up with your swollen pussy. And when you sink down he slams himself home and you clench around him, a scream escaping your slack mouth.
He groans low, trying to even out his breathing around your pretty gasps and breathy moans.
“You’re gonna keep my cock warm before I fuck you like the slut you wanna be for me,” he chides, concentrating hard on on anything other than the tight walls of your pussy gripping him. “This is the rest of your punishment… you pray a Hail Mary and warm my cock, no whining, no moaning.”
You whimper as his cock stretches you out, practically biting a hole in your bottom lip as you taste yourself from where he painted them with your own arousal earlier.
A loud slap to your ass and you’re jolting forward, your rosary tight in Eddie’s fist as he brings you down to his lips, “start praying or I’ll go home.”
“Hail Mary,” you begin, the same way you started before, only this time the pressure was never lifted, your pussy full of him, and his tongue hot and feverish on your neck, teeth grazing your skin ever so lightly.
He’s teasing you and trying to get you to break, he thumbs over your nipples until they’re peaked and sore in his pinched grip.
When you get halfway through the sacred prayer, your pussy aches and drips down to his balls. His tongue is lazily working a red and purple ‘E’ into the fat of your tit, one hand still holding the rosary tight against your neck.
You’re on the verge of breaking when you suck him in deeper, pushing your walls around him and kegeling him in a death trap. He mins and curses the lord’s name, and he finally snaps.
Bangs slicked with sweat and stuck heavy against forehead, he grunts, “Holy Mary Mother of God.” And you’re hiked upwards.
The screen you confessed your sins to with Eddie on the other side only a half hour ago, is now pressed tight against your ass as Eddie hammers his cock into your slicked and aching pussy.
The moan you elicit is toe curling, borderlining pornographic as the thick head of his clock slams into a spot you were unaware of reaching again and again.
“Pray for us sinners… fuck this pussy is so tight… now and at the hour of our death,” Eddie whimpers into your shoulder before biting down hard.
And when you yell out an amen your fluttering gummy walls spasm with joyful relief. Coating you and Eddie both with hot arousal as it seeps from you.
And the lips you’ve been staring at all night finally touch yours.
A bruisingly, sore puncture of lust filled kisses that would have your lips resembling a baboon’s ass for days.
He’s babbling now as your feet are wrapped right around his waist, his hands wiggling into his curls and yanking harder sends him over the edge.
He drops you onto your knees and opens your mouth with a press of his thumb on your bottom lip, when your tongue is out, and waiting for his cum, he jerks his cock once more and shudders when the hot ropes leave him and drip on your tongue and lips.
“Body of Christ,” Eddie says with a smirk, shutting your mouth for you and watching you swallow his load. He expects you to gag, possibly spit it out at him like the other girls would.
But when you lick your lips and utter a seductive, “Amen.” Eddie knows he’d never get out of confession for the rest of his life.
😅hmmm yeah ily there will be a part 2
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