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oneforthemunny · 1 year ago

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christmas (baby, please come home) |cowboy!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: it's not the most wonderful time of the year for everyone, including you and eddie.

apart of my munny's merriest that you can read here!

contains: angst. eddie is mean. past parental trauma. grief. holiday grief and sadness. angst really.

Heavy boots, covered with slush and snow from the frozen ground below, pounded up the creaking wooden porch. Eddie huffed, his breath clouding around him, a gloved hand reaching for the screen door. The toe of his work boots knocked against the doorway, kicking off the remainder of the snow from the icy, winter wonderland that arrived overnight, just in time for Christmas Eve. With it, came an icy chill that had Eddie working overtime to make sure the horses were warm.

It was an odd feeling, walking into the mud room, plopping on the bench to pull off his boots. Eddie waited, inhaling in the cold, crisp air, waiting for the warmth to flood back to his system. That cozy heat to thaw out the chill that shocked his system, left his cheeks red and frost bitten from the cold. The euphoric feeling of relief that coated him every time he walked in from the snow. It never came.

In fact, it felt colder in the house.

In the house that was decorated, halls decked and every square inch covered with Christmas. The usual homey contentment that came from looking at the decorations was gone, replaced with a miserable, heavy feeling settled deep in the pit of his stomach, feeling him with a sickening guilt.

Visions of your fight, hateful words piled on with yells and slamming doors, right there in the kitchen. A kitchen that should be filled with Burl Ives’ Christmas album on a loop was missing its merry music; it was missing you.

“We always spend Christmas with my family.”

“Yeah, exactly. It’s always about you, what you wanna fuckin’ do!”

Eddie could see your face as if it was in front of him again. The way your expression fell, crumbling before him, the betrayal in your eyes rimmed with flecks of hurt. It made his stomach turn all over again.

“You don’t- I thought you liked spending time with my family.” Your voice was small, far too small for your usual tone. “They always love spending time with you, Ed.”

“Oh, yeah, to you they do.” He scoffed, eyes rolling so hard he gave himself a headache. He could feel it now. “You always leave me with your asshole uncle, who always wants to tell me the same goddamn story about how he used to ride horses growin’ up, like I give a shit-”

“-Eddie! He’s trying to be nice and talk to you, so you’re not-”

“-So I’m not miserable? Well, guess what, honey. I’m fuckin’ miserable!” His voice was so loud it shook the wooden cabinets of the kitchen, your tin snowmen rattling on top of the shelves. “I am fuckin’ miserable every Christmas! I would rather be here alone, shovelin’ shit all goddamn night and day than be there!”

The hitch in your breath rang loud and clear in Eddie’s ear, his own face crumpling this time, a shaky hand rubbing across his eyes to try and keep his composure. But how could he? How could he stop the ache in his chest when he remembered the way you looked at him? The way your eyes filled with tears, lip quivering in fear. You hadn’t cried, not in there, atleast. Instead, you waited until you got to the bedroom, pulling out your own little overnight bag and filling it silently.

He’d been so furious, so unfathomably filled with weeks of pent up rage, Eddie had to step out. Fury filled steps, a swinging fist to a post that left his knuckles bloody, splintering into the pale skin that was already blooming with bruises. Eddie really regretted it now, sure he’d broken a knuckle at the way it had swelled, doubled in size and kissed with dark purple, welt-like bruises. Oh, what he would do, what he would give, to have you fuss over it, patch it up and huff at him for doing something so immature.

You didn’t.

Instead, you stayed silent, save for the heart wrenching, hiccupy sniffle you gave when loading your bag into the trunk. Eddie’s body was still buzzing, electric with every ounce of bitter grief he’d tried to ignore.

“Where you goin’?” Eddie gritted, tone sharp, it left you shuddering at the unfamiliar sharpness directed at you.

“You want to shovel shit, since it’s so much better than being with my family.” Your breath stuttered in your chest when you took that breath. One that had Eddie’s heart lurching, nervous system flooding with a damning shock that left his head reeling in fear.

“Better than being with me.” The crack in your voice matched the crack in Eddie’s own heart, splitting it right down the middle.

“I don’t want to make you any more miserable than you already are.” You spat, and suddenly, Eddie longed for the sadness in your tone because the bitterness that replaced it was worse.

Your own boots crunched on the ground, bare with snow and ice, but frozen from the cold. “Have a Merry Christmas by yourself, Eddie.” A hard yank of your car handle, and you were gone.

Eddie watched you go in a horrified stare, your car disappearing down out of his sight in a red flash, feeling like he was watching a movie- a fucked up movie through his own eyes, but not in his own body.

Then he was alone.

Eddie was alone, standing on his family’s land, holding his throbbing hand alone. He was alone then. He was alone later that night, when he crawled into bed, teary eyes and shaking hands grabbing at your pillow, smothering himself with it because it smelled like you- terrified it might be the last time he could smell you. And he was alone now. Sitting in a too still kitchen, in a too quiet house, on Christmas Eve, alone.

The burning threat of tears choked him, bubbling out of his chest and crept up his throat. Through blurred vision, Eddie could see the time. A little past four. He wondered what you were doing, what your family was doing. If your dad had started a card game yet. The same Rummy game he always made sure to deal Eddie in to- always made sure to include him.

If your uncle was on his fourth or fifth glass of eggnog, spiking it with an extra pour of Woodford. He’d always offer Eddie some, slurring and spilling a little onto the festive tablecloth. Drunkenly tell him about his childhood, how he grew up riding horses, the same droning story that Eddie would always nod politely at. He was sloshed through the holidays, but never mean- always a jolly drunk, bellowing laughs through shining eyes. No smashing of plates or bruising grips like Eddie’s childhood Christmases always had.

Or if your mom had got a chance to breathe, pull herself out of the kitchen with your aunts. She’d always hug him so warmly when she’d greet the two of you at the door, fussing over taking your bags and jackets, so happy the two of you were there. She’d even embroidered a stocking for Eddie last year, surprised him with it proudly. He’d nearly cried.

It was a weird feeling. This feeling that he was becoming a part of your family. That they wanted him to be a part of it.

He only had Wayne left, the rest of his family was long gone. It filled him with a grimy, gross feeling how much he enjoyed his time with your family. The sickening thought that he was betraying his own, replacing them and filling in their spots with shiny, new replicas.

Wayne would laugh at him, tell him he should enjoy it, he better enjoy it. “You know Darlene and me go to Florida ev’ry Christmas, boy. You better stick it with ‘er. She’s a good’en.”

Wayne would be furious at him if he knew. Probably take him ‘round back for the way he spoke to you, about your family. Eddie wouldn’t blame him, he was furious at himself for it.

Eddie’s eyes found their way to the mantle, your stocking and his lined side by side. His was full, stuffed with small gifts and goodies you’d cheerily slip in, tongue clicking at him when he’d try to peek. Yours was deflated, sans for a small pair of cabin socks Eddie had got in early November.

The bile in his throat brought him back to his very cruel reality in front of him. He’d been mean to you- he acted like his dad.

Eddie’s stomach lurched, moving to the sink, a shaking hand pulling his hair back, retching into the sink at the revelation. Parallels of his mom and dad, his childhood, how his mom would decorate the house from top to bottom, make it nice and festive for Eddie. His dad would come in, tear it down, mock her for it in a drunken slur. She’d always buy him a gift, make sure Eddie’s stocking was filled with what she could: penny candies, knitted gloves, dented wacky packs from the discount store. Eddie would make her an ornament, his Mamaw Munson would get her a little gift, but never his dad. Her stocking was always empty.

A choked sob caught in Eddie’s throat, vomit spewing into the shiny surface under him. Clammy forehead pressed to the cool countertop, he took a deep, shaky sob to try and keep the cry in. The mangled sob that shook his core, rattled his lungs, burned all the way from his stomach to his nose.

Calloused hands wiped at his wet cheeks, chapped from the cold, giving a fierce sniffle. Eddie felt eight again, noticing for the first time the way his mother’s eyes dimmed, how she tried to hide it when she opened the empty stocking. She had been hopeful that there had been something in there, that this year his dad would remember her, be better. He never was.

Eddie couldn’t be him, he wouldn’t be. He’d already reflected him in every way, too much for his own comfort lately- screaming at you, that rage that tore through him, bloody knuckles and aching throat that was leaving you in tears.

As his shaking fingers turned the dial, cradling the phone to his ear, he hoped you would answer- that he could just get to you, talk to you. Your mother’s cheery voice rang over the phone instead, a happy roar of chatter mixed with music playing behind her voice.

“Oh, Ed?” Your mother’s voice sounded concerned, he could practically see her frown, one you inherited. “Are you feeling better, hon? We miss you. I’m sending your stocking and gifts home- well, not the stocking, I’ll keep that but what’s inside.”

You’d told them he was sick, covered for him- just like his mom used to do for his dad. The kindness in her tone nearly sent Eddie over the edge, pulling the receiver away to take a breath, to keep the sob from coming out.

“Ed?” Your mom tried again. “Are you there?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m sorry. I just… Is s-she around?” Eddie’s voice was tight with emotion, and he knew if he said your name, it would break whatever facade he’s mustered at the moment.

“Uh-huh, one second.” A staticy rustle filled the receiver, your name muffled and falling from your mom’s lips.

Eddie didn’t realize he was holding his breath, until he released it, a desperate sigh of relief when you took the phone. “Hello?”

“H-Hi, baby.” Eddie tried, hoping his voice was soft enough, gentler now- than the last time he talked to you.

“Hi.” You bit, through gritted teeth, dragging the chord of the phone into the hall with you. “What do you want? I’m with my family.”

His water line brimmed again, overflowing with angry tears. “Yeah, I know, honey. I’m sorry, I just,” Eddie took a deep breath, stuttering in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Your own lip wobbled, fresh with tears. You’d pulled into your parents drive the night before, eyes red rimmed from your cry, telling them something about the hay and your allergies. They’d believed you, pulled you in with a warm hug. It was nice, comforting at your home, surrounded by your family until you were asleep. A bed had never felt so cold.

“I don’t-” You grit, trying to keep your own emotions in. “This is why you called me?”

Eddie flinched at the venom in your own tone. “I am sorry. I’m so fuckin’ sorry, baby, you don’t even kno-ow.” Eddie’s chest stuttered. “I didn’t mean any of that, I swear. I was- I’m just… I’m not doing great this year, baby.”

Your heart jumped at the shake in his tone, the rawness of his words. “You really hurt my feelings, Ed.” You admitted, your voice smaller. “I don’t- I don’t know why you don’t like my family. They love you-”

“-I don’t.” Eddie shook his head, fist balled around the phone. “I didn’t mean any of that. I love your family, I-I love you.”

“So, you said all of that, why?” You scoffed lowly.

Eddie’s knee bounced. He hadn’t expected you just to forgive him, but it was still hard- hard when you weren’t here, when you were away and hurt, and he was alone and miserable.

Miserable, the single word in the world he wished to never say or hear again.

“I…” Eddie’s hand threaded through his matted locks. “I don’t know. It’s weird. Not- no, no, no, not you or- fuck, that’s not what I meant.” Eddie rambled stupidly.

“I feel weird about being with your family on Christmas because…I like it.” Eddie’s vision was blurred, watery with tears. “It’s just different from what I grew up with, and… and I don’t know, sometimes it’s just, it’s overwhelming, baby.”

You stayed silent on the other end, the only sound signaling you were still on the line was the faint yells and mummers of your family, only making Eddie’s heart ache even more. “They’re all so nice, it-it makes me… I didn’t have that. My family didn’t have that, and-and every time I’m there it just makes me wish they did.”

The both of you fell into a silence, one that was becoming far too common. Eddie’s heart hammered behind his ribcage. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. This- nothing is your fault, you know that? This is on me. I shouldn’t have ever talked to you like that, said that shit. I’d beat the dog walking shit out of anyone who said that shit about you, and then I say it? That’s just-” Eddie let out a humorless, watery laugh, fist pressed to his forehead in an attempt to extinguish that fury burning through his chest again.

A cleansing breath later, Eddie’s head was in his hands. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked, wobbly when he told you. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“It’s… We can talk later, Eddie.” Your voice finally rang through, shaky and unsteady, clutching the phone like it was your life long. “Thank you for calling me. For telling me that.”

The silence settled again, both of you unsure, scared to make the next move.

“I, uh, I wish you were here.” You broke the silence this time. “My family keeps asking about you. They miss you, a lot.”

“I miss you.” Eddie sniveled, wiping his running nose with the back of his hand. “I mean, I miss them too, but I just… I miss you a lot.”

A pause, the slight clear of your throat. “I have to go.” You whispered, voice tight and Eddie knew you were close to tears. “I have to help my mom set the table, but… I’ll call you tonight.”

“I love you.” Eddie blurted, sacred he might forget to say it with how his head was swimming. “I love you so fuckin’ much.”

“I know.” Your voice was soft. It made Eddie’s stomach lurch all over again.

The line droned in a steady beep after your receiver clicked. Eddie held the phone there, eyes shining dully with unshed tears in the lights of the strung decorations. A defeated slump in his shoulders. He didn’t feel any better, worse if anything.

Eddie was surrounded by a deafening silence, the house too quiet. Too quiet to be Christmas. Too quiet without you.

The soft glow from the barn pulled Eddie’s attention, the doors pulled to keep the heat in for the horses. He twisted the phone in his palms, turning it over in his hands gently before jabbing his fingers back into the dial.

The line rang once, twice, nearly a third before it was answered.

“Gare, hey, I’ve got a big ask…”

“Honey,” Your mom’s eyes squinted, yellow rubber gloves dunked into the soapy warm water in front of her. “I thought you said Ed wasn’t coming.”

You nearly dropped the plate you were drying, breath caught in your throat. “What?” You hissed, leaning to look out the small window over the sink. Sure enough, there in the dark, snow covered driveway was Eddie’s truck.

“I-I didn’t think he was.” You shook your head, setting the plate down gently. “He said he wasn’t feeling well. I’m just- I’ll be right back.” Slipping on your boots, not bothering to lace them, you stepped outside into the frigid cold of the night.

Eddie didn’t see you, back turned, grabbing armfulls of bags out of the back seat. “What are you doing here?”

He jumped, nearly dropping your aunt’s present, eyes wide when he turned. “Shit, I-I…” Eddie’s tongue tied, jumbled and thick in his mouth. He didn’t expect to see you, standing there, in your little Christmas sweater that had his heart swelling. He wanted to kiss you, coo at you for being so cute, get you all blushy and giggle at his compliments.

Your lifted brow, arms crossed over your chest protectively stopped him. “I wanted to give your family their gifts. I-I was just going to leave them on the porch and tell you when I called tonight.”

Your foot twisted into the snow, eyes cast downward. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I did.” Eddie nodded firmly. “They’re not- It’s not great. The mall was closing early so I had to kinda rush, but, uh, I wanted to get them something.” He looked at you, eyes shining with emotion. “Wanted to get you something too.”

Your stocking was hooked onto his left pointer finger, a crooked bend of the knitted fabric, hanging heavy and filled with tiny trinkets and things that ruffled. You looked at it carefully, face quipping just barely, but Eddie caught it. “I didn’t want you to think I forgot about you.” Eddie muttered lowly, breath showing under the glow of the lights.

“Thank you.” You nodded, swallowing thickly around your words. “I can help you take them in.”

“No,” Eddie shook his head. “I don’t want to… I know you don’t want to be with me right now, baby, and I get it. I’ll just drop them off-”

“-Come inside.” You sighed, arms still tight around his chest. “My mom already saw you. It’s just easier for you to come in.”

Eddie tried to hide the hurt he felt with a simple nod. “I don’t want to ruin your Christmas.” He muttered softly. “More than I already have.”

“Eddie,” You sounded tired, words heavy with emotion, exhaustion maybe. “Come inside.” Your eyes lifted to his, so sweet, nearly pleading he was sure he might sob. “There’s still leftovers. I’ll heat them up for you.”

So Eddie followed you inside, gifts under his arms, letting your family greet him warmly, chocking his red eyes and matching nose up to the hay fever he’d been having. Your mom fixed him a plate, poured you both a glass of mulled wine.

In the tiny bed of your childhood room, the two of you talked in hushed voices, silent apologies traded over soft touches.

“I didn’t mean it.” Eddie whispered, nose pushing into your neck. “I’m sorry.”

“I know.” You nodded, and you did. Even if it still hurt, still wounded from the words, you knew that was true.

Eddie’s cheek pressed against your shoulder, hands grabbing at you, pulling you closer and closer like at any moment you might disappear from his clutches. “My mom,” His voice cracked, eyes pinching shut. “She used to love Christmas.”

“Really?” You hum, tone as even as it could be with the shock. Eddie never spoke about his mother.

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “She, uh, she used to decorate every Thanksgiving. Pull out the tree after dinner, put it up. My dad,” Eddie swallowed around the bitter title. “He was always passed out by then, so she could do it pretty quickly. Get it up and ready before he’d wake up and bitch. It wasn’t a lot, a tree and some other stuff, but I’d always help her. She-She always let me put the angel on top.”

You weren’t sure what to say, what you were supposed to say. Eddie’s mom was a sensitive spot. One he didn’t talk about much, at all, really.

“She would really like your family.” Eddie’s voice was small, a rarity. Always the loud, rough and tough cowboy, commanding wild bucks all day. Small wasn’t in his vocabulary.

“They would have really liked her.” You said slowly, vibrations from your voice tickling Eddie’s ear.

Eddie knew it was true. He felt stupid, really, waves of horrible guilt crashing over him again as he clung tighter to you. Your family wasn’t the enemy, wasn’t one to try and replace his own family, just an extension.

He meant what he said, that his Mama would like your family. He already knew she’d love you, simply because he did. He hoped it was true, that your family would’ve loved her. He knew deep down they would have, that they would welcome her with the same warmth that they gave him.

That they’d always make sure her stocking was full on Christmas morning, because they always made sure his was.

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oneforthemunny · 1 year ago

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star girl |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|

prompt: eddie doesn't decorate. you gift him a small tree to try and get him into the christmas spirit. he decides he'll decorate it, with his own personal decorations. thank you @wheels-of-despair for this iconic idea

apart of the twelve days of christmas with dom!eddie series that you can read here!

contains: smut minors dni 18+. dom/sub themes. dirty photos. oral fem receiving. male masturbation (eddie jacks off). cum play-ish???? taking nudes and dirty pictures lol (on a polaroid).

“You know,” You purr, pushing up on your forearms, the worn comforter slipping over your naked frame.

Eddie’s eyes lingered momentarily on your chest, half-lidded blinks through the smoky, hazy air, one arm behind his head to prop himself up while he smoked the joint. A soft grunt rumbling out of his chest, offering you the burning joint between his fingers.

You shook your head, holding the comforter to your chest, sitting back on your knees. “I think,” You twisted your lips gently, looking around the familiar room of the trailer- the same as it always was through every season. “That a little teeny tiny tree in here would really make the place festive.”

Eddie huffed, eyes rolling into his head in annoyance. He felt blindly for the ashtray on his bedside, bumming the joint and flicking it into the pile for later. “No. How many times do I gotta say it?” He muttered. “You got every other room in the house.”

“It won’t be a lot.” You countered, eyes rounding sweetly towards him. “I swear, just a tree. Please? Let me just put up a tree. A small one, like this big.” You held your hands up, motioning at the smallness of the tree- one you may have already bought. That may be in your trunk.

“Why does it matter?” Eddie huffed in annoyance.

“Because I want it.” You pouted, bottom lip puckered in just the right way to have him flushing. “And you love me, and want me to have what I want.”

Eddie scoffed, shaking his head, but you didn’t miss the blush rising up on his chest. “Right. If it’s what you want, then you should get it, right?” He snided sarcastically.

You ignored it, hand slipping off your chest, letting the comforter slide with it, down the slopes of your breasts. Eddie’s eyes followed, like clockwork, as the blanket fell further and further. “You can decorate it however you want.” You thrummed seductively, low and gravelly, lashes batting his way. “I’ll help you if you want.” The blanket fell, sliding down your sternum, nipples hardening at the cool air of the room.

Eddie blinked, eyes going vacant, mindless with your tits sitting in front of him. You weren’t playing fair, you knew exactly what you were doing. Eddie had half a mind to tell you that, maybe bust out the clamps and use them on you for trying to manipulate him this way.

Instead, he let you ride him, boobs bouncing with every gallop of your hips, his hands grabbing and squeezing them, hard enough to have you squealing.

The next day, the tiny tree had taken up residence on his dresser. Pushed to a corner, one he begrudgingly cleared, bare and smushed from storage. Eddie glared at it while he smoked, the way it mocked him just sitting there. A reminder of the most wonderful time of the year, or whatever the fuck it was.

“I have extra ornaments, if you want to decorate it with them.” You had offered, but Eddie refused. He wouldn’t decorate it, not unless he got a really good idea- unless he could decorate it his way.

The idea came when he was jacking off.

Palming himself on the couch, watching MTV, Eddie’s cock was twitching, creeping to life with arousal with every twirl Paula Abdul gave on the screen. He was glad you weren’t here, you’d smack him and scream at him for staring. Eddie paused for a moment, pulling his hand out of his pants and walking to his bedroom, snagging the bottle of Jergens out of the bathroom.

“Where the fuck did I- ah!” Eddie grinned, pushing through his clothes hanging in the closet for his Rebok shoe box, old and torn at the corners but it held his prized possessions. “There you are.” Eddie muttered, flipping the cardboard lid open easily.

Inside, dozens of polaroids scattered inside, all of you. You tied up, cum shots of your face or your ass or your pussy, all the things you’d tried- clamps, plugs, paddle marks, wax, the gag. Eddie laid them out carefully, his own little collection of naughty photos all for him.

Eddie crawled the length of the bed, reaching for his favorite, a teary eyed photo of you on your knees, tongue out for Eddie’s cock, a faint peek of your red ass sticking out behind you.

Sweatpants shimmied off his waist, kicked with his boxers to the far side of the room, Eddie propped himself against the headboard, hand wrapped around his length, stroking himself slowly.

He could remember the day he took the photo, after a concert at the Hideout. You had worn a leather corset, teased Eddie all day with it until he couldn’t take it any longer. He’d gotten you home, really played with you until you were sobbing, begging him to fuck you.

His hand jerked his length faster and faster, a low groan caught in his throat, head tipping back. He could hear you, hear your whiny, little voice begging him to fuck you. “Please, I’ll be so good. So good, Eddie, please. I need it. Need you.”

“Fuck, I know you will.” Eddie groaned into the quiet of the room, a straggled whimper creeping out. He tried to imagine it was you making him feel this good, not his own hand. He had never missed you more.

Eddie knew his own orgasm was close, belly tightening with that feverish heat coursing through his body, his hand pumping himself faster and faster. A half lidded gaze cast on the photo of you, memories playing behind his eyes like his favorite film, hips jerking, small grunts and whines of pleasure until he was spilling over himself.

Eddie’s chest heaved, hot and clammy, his release on his hand, some spilled on the base of himself. Vision blurred lightly, focusing gently back to normal from that post-orgasm haze. His eyes landed on it. The tree, perched right in front of him, bristling him with annoyance, killing his post-bliss euphoric feeling.

A tattooed hand snatched his underwear, discarded on the floor, wiping himself off half-heartedly. He made sure to put his soiled underwear in the hamper- knowing you’d huff at him if he didn’t- snatching his sweatpants back off the ground. The Polaroid of you slightly creased in the corner from his grasp, he opened the box, setting it neatly inside until an idea crashed over him.

The idea.

Call it post-orgasm clarity, Eddie would call it genius, but his lips curled, a positively smug grin that felt like The Grinch’s snarly smile from the cartoon.

Eddie grabbed the box, lying it out on the kitchen table, a cigarette hanging loosely from his lips while he worked. Hot glue gun dripping onto the already scratched wood, tiny ornament hooks, and ribbons. Eddie knew exactly how he wanted to decorate.

“What is this?”

Eddie smirked, the quip in your tone, a ghosting of a scoff; he knew you saw it. His creation.

“What, baby?” Eddie hummed coyly, slipping into the bedroom behind you. You stood in front of the dresser, carefully looking at each of the ‘ornaments’ he added to the tree, your face flushing with each one you saw.

You turned, a brow furrowed at him, nodding towards the tree. “Oh, I decorated.” Eddie said simply, a tiny shrug of his shoulders. “Thought that was what you wanted.”

“You decorated.” You blinked. “With… these?” Your fingers brushed over one of the Polaroids that captured your legs spread, cunt dripping with his release onto the sheets below you.

“Yeah, why not?” Eddie shrugged so nonchalantly cool it made you shiver. His arms circled your waist, nose nuzzling into the soft skin of your flushed cheek. “You said I could decorate it however I want, and if it’s gotta be in my room, I want it covered with my favorite things.” He muttered against your skin, pressing a soft kiss against it.

“Hm,” You hum, leaning into his touch. His groin rubbed against your ass, sporting a semi that had you snorting lightly. “Well, as long as you like it, I like it. Very festive, baby.”

“Yeah, I thought so.” Eddie purred, lips ghosting over your cheek, sliding down to your jaw. “Need one more though. Somethin’ special for the star.”

“Oh?” You squeaked, a shuddering breath caught in your throat. Eddie’s lips kissed down your jawline, teeth grazing over the spot under your ear that had your knees buckling.

“Mm-hmm, want it to be a good one.” Eddie rasped, hands sliding down your hips, up your tummy towards your breasts. “Think we can take one? One good one for the star?”

Your eyes fluttered open, whining behind closed lips. Eddie’s hands squeezing your boobs through your shirt, lips pressing sloppy kisses down your neck. You found the camera on the dresser easily, propped on the edge and ready for use.

“What kinda picture?” You pressed, hips wiggling back against his groin, head tilting for better access, his lips trailing down your neck.

Eddie’s hand grip at the small of your waist, walking you back towards the bed. Hands fumbling over each other, brushing touches and shoving of your clothes, tearing them off the other until they were a pile beneath you.

“How do you want me?” You asked, a raspy whisper that had Eddie’s cock lurching, tip leaking with his own excitement. Your hand grabbing at his arms, his shoulders, his back, pulling him closer and closer to you

“Get on all fours for me, baby.” Eddie growled, a sharp squeeze to your ass that had you squealing, scrambling to the disheveled bed, crawling until you were in a table top position.

Eddie grinned, swiping the camera off the bed, checking the film. “Look back at me. Yeah, fuuuck yes, baby just like that.” He groaned, holding the camera to his eye, looking at you through the tiny hole. Your chin hooked over your shoulder, ass high in the air, arched and presented so he could see every single inch of you.

The flash stunned you, blinking even though you were expecting it. “That’s the star?” You asked, brow lifted in question. “Thought you’d want something better than that.”

“Oh, that’s not the star.” Eddie smirked, shaking the Polaroid. “This one’s just for me, sweetheart. You just look pretty. Wanted it all for myself.”

You blush, heat spreading from the tip of your ears, to the tingling euphoric rush in your toes. “Ed,” You huffed. “Please, can you- can you hurry up?”

Eddie’s brow raised, challenging- warning. “I said please,” You pout, that nasally pinch to your tone reserved just for him at times like this. His weakness.

“I heard you.” Eddie rolled his eyes, tossing the camera beside him, grabbing you by the small of your waist, yanking you back towards him. “Stick that ass out f’me. You know how I want you.” A sharp smack to your ass had you squealing, Eddie’s jaw flexing at the sound, silencing the groan that threatened to spill from his throat.

Your back arched, sinking your lower half down so your ass raised higher, cheek pressed to the mattress. Eddie stroked himself, eyes trained on your puffy lips. “You ready for me?” Eddie rasped, calloused hands gripping the fatty flesh of your ass, spreading your open wide.

“Mmhmm,” You squirmed, hands gripping the sheets, arching further and further.

Eddie’s right hand left your ass, fingers swiping over your sopping folds. The gasp you gave was music to his ears, a heavenly sound, light and airy- it made his heart race, cheeks flushed with rushing excited heat. It wasn’t what you expected, not in this position anyways.

“You excited, hm?” Eddie grinned, voice rising to that taunting tone that had you clenching around his fingers pumping slowly in and out of you. “You like the idea of me takin’ photos of you like this, don’t you? Dirty girl.”

“Yeah,” You breathed lightly, eyes pinching closed in pleasure. “That feels good, Ed.”

“Does it?” Eddie hummed, pulling his fingers out slowly. You raised, a breathy whine of protest filling the room, Eddie’s hand on your spine pressing you down before you could continue.

His hand found his shaft again, sinking to his knees on the mattress behind you, spreading your arousal easily over his length, tongue sliding over his bottom lip then it was on you. Tongue flattening, licking a long strip from the very top of your cunt, gliding through your folds, stopping to circle over your sopping hole.

You gasped, a sharp breath of a grunt, hips bucking out of place at the feeling. You were expecting Eddie’s cock, for him to rail you, pin your arms to the small of your back and fuck you into the mattress.

Eddie’s nose traced over your drenched entrance, lips curling and suckling around your clit, his free hand jacking himself. His hand would brush over your skin with every hard stroke, leaving you shuddering in its wake.

“Ed,” You panted, face pressed into the mattress to try and keep your pathetic whines and cries in. “Please, whatever you’re doing just- ohmyfuckin’god- don’t stop.”

Eddie groaned, vibrations sending shock waves straight to your core, hips rocking back towards his face as best as you could in the awkwardly bent position, folded in two practically so he could devour you. He stroked himself harder, faster with every whimper and whine that fell from your lips.

He knew that you were close, the way your toes curled, hips jolting with every hollowed cheek suckle of his lips on your clit. He could feel his own high coming, slowing his strokes to time his release. Eddie wanted you to cum first- wanted that dazed, glassy eyed tinge in your eyes, when you looked positively picture perfect.

And he got his money shot. That tree topping, perfect picture, better than what he could have imagined. Your cheeks glowing, teary eyes rounded, looking up perfectly at him with your tongue out, collecting every drop of his release while Eddie grunted out babbling praises that left you flushing with heat.

“That’s the one.” Eddie grinned, chest still shining with a sheen of sweat, a pink flush down his tattooed torso. He flicked the Polaroid in his hand a few more times, grinning proudly at the photo, his own masterpiece.

“That’s it?” You hummed, head rushing with that post-orgasm gooey feeling that had your heart swelling, cheek pressed to Eddie’s pillow. It smelled like him- citrusy Gain detergent, faint spicy cologne that was muted in the second hand transfer to the cotton, and his tea tree shampoo. You pressed your face further into the cotton, hands sneaking under the pillow, peeking out at Eddie from your place on the bed.

“This is the one, babe.” Eddie nodded, rummaging through the small box of ornaments for what he was looking for, a cheap, plastic star. “This is a star worthy photo.”

“I’m glad you like it.” You giggle. “Glad I could make your vision come true.”

Eddie smirked, adjusting the star so it sat perched on top of the tree, the Polaroid taped to it. He stepped back, hands on his hips, admiring his own handiwork. You sitting back on your thighs, love drunk look in your eyes, tongue out showing off his release proudly, a tiny sliver of his tip in the bottom corner of the shot.

His picture perfect star. The only thing he wanted on top of his tree.

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oneforthemunny · 1 year ago

Text

candy caned |dom!eddie munson x sub!reader|

prompt: you’re desperate to make eddie’s trailer more festive for the holidays. you bring over decorations, but eddie is only interested in one- a long, plastic candy cane.

apart of the twelve days of dom!eddie's christmas

contains: smut. 18+. dom/sub themes, hints at brat tamer/brat themes. spanking with implements (candy cane lol). role play-ish?? not really established but kinda alluded to it a little. aftercare. minors dni, read at your own discretion.

A cloud of smoke left Eddie’s lips, corners of his mouth pulling up into a half lipped smirk. Your car propelled over the gravel of the trailer park’s makeshift road, a playful beep of your horn. Eddie gave a small laugh, the air in front of him clouding at the contrast. He could hear the droning of George Michael’s Last Christmas, muffled from your car stereo but a reminder of why you were here.

Eddie bummed the cigarette when you turned off the ignition, the radio silencing but that didn’t stop you. “Last Christmas, I gave you my heeearrrttt.” Your door swung open, voice trilling out into the quiet, rainy park. Eddie grinned, shoving his hands in his utility jacket, starting down the groaning steps of his trailer.

“But the very next day,” You wiggled your brows at Eddie playfully, a toothy grin on your face that made his chest fill with a surge of heat. “C’mon, Ed, you know it!” You pouted playfully.

“Yeah, I do. Everyone on planet fuckin’ Earth knows it.” Eddie snorted, heavy work boots nudging your own Sorels. His hands found your cheek, pressing a soft, full lipped kiss to your warm skin. The nicotine on his breath made your head spin, melting into his touch.

Eddie’s lips quirked, fighting back a smile. “Still not singing it, though.” He muttered, fingers squishing your cheeks together playfully, pivoting towards your trunk.

The huff you gave did make him grin. “Such a Scrooge.” You clicked your tongue in disapproval. “No holiday spirit at all.”

Eddie waited by the trunk, eyes shining in amusement while you unlocked your trunk. His eyes widened, gaping at you in disbelief. “You’re shitting me.”

“What?” You frowned, reaching for the bundle of lights, tangled from the half-hearted place in your apartment’s pitiful storage.

“Baby,” Eddie blinked, positively confounded. When you’d suggested bringing some decorations over, he expected a few knick-knacks, maybe a tiny tree. Not the trunk full of Christmas decor, looking like something straight out of a Macy’s display window he’d pass in the city.

“There’s… This is a lot.” Eddie tried not to sound as horrified as he felt.

You frowned at him over your shoulder, hauling the tote bag with your Zellers Christmas Village in it over your arm. “You said you didn’t have anything.”

“I don’t.” Eddie nodded, scanning over the tubs- tubs, plural- of ornaments. “But-But you didn’t have to bring all of this. What about your place?”

You rolled your eyes lightly. “I barely stay there.” It was true, you’d slowly migrated into Eddie’s space over the months, staying more and more. “And you have more space. More decorating room.” The smile you gave him was bright, dazzling and excited.

Eddie’s was… less enthusiastic, a mix between a grimace and dread. Still, he grabbed the box of stacked ornaments, the glass rattling as he walked up the stairs, following your giddy steps into the trailer.

“No! Not so close to the edge!” You shrieked, Eddie nearly dropping the snowman figurine in his hand.

He’d been a good sport, he really had. Eddie didn’t complain when you handed him the tangled lights. He kept his snarky comments to himself when you had him fluff out the tree branches to the plastic tree. He’d come close to snapping when you busted out the Elvis Christmas album, but he didn’t- he tuned it out, focused on anything else.

The trailer was transformed, a Christmas wonderland, complete with the final touches of the snowmen and Santas on the window ledge. You pushed the snowman back, tilting it to your satisfaction, nodding with approval.

Eddie let you. The two of you had established a ‘system’- he’d put it out, and you went behind him and fixed it how you wanted it. “What about these, baby?” Eddie hummed, picking up the bundle of plastic, long candy canes. “These go on the tree?”

“No,” You shook your head, placing the last figurine on the window. “They go outside. We can do them when it’s not raining.”

Eddie turned the candy canes around in his hand, thin and spindly, intertwined plastic red and white that were long. He pulled one out by the hook, shaking it gently- testing it. Eddie brought it down, the swoosh whistling just barely over the music from his boombox.

“Don’t break them.” You frowned, twisting an ornament so it faced forward. “Just put them to the side. We can do them tomorrow if you want.”

Eddie stayed quiet, brows pinched together, tongue rolling over the inside of his cheek. You paused, watching him carefully as he studied the cane.

“You know what?” Eddie hummed, his eyes still on the red and white cane in his hand. “I think I have an idea.”

“What?” You looked at him, scanning the room for any spare place for the decoration.

“I can think of something better to do with this.” Eddie’s lips curled, intriguingly dark. “It would really get me in this whole most wonderful time of the year mood.” His tone animated, dark and mocking the way it was when he played DND with his friends, when they were about to be presented with a dangerous risk of a choice. It made your heart skip.

“What?” You repeated, brow quipping, waving your hand for him to continue.

Eddie’s eyes lit up, twinkling with excitement under the glow of the colorful strands on the tree. He lifted the cane, cutting it through the air with a satisfied swish!, holding your gaze with a darkened look of desire.

Your tummy flipped, heat rushing through your core, thighs pressing together at the insinuation.

Eddie lifted a brow. “Think you need it. Probably on the naughty list. Aren’t ya, baby?” He purred, spinning the cane in his hand. You squirmed under his gaze, fidgeting with the sleeves of your sweater.

“‘M not.” You shuddered, shrinking under Eddie’s greedy gaze. “I’ve been very good this year.”

Eddie sucked in a dramatic breath through his teeth, stalking towards you until he was towering over you. “Hmm, that’s not what I heard, sweetheart.” Eddie muttered, nose nearly touching yours.

Your knees tightened, wobbling with excitement. “Good news is,” Eddie started, letting the candy cane slide through his hands, brushing over your own. “It’s not too late. Can correct you now. Teach you a lesson and make sure you’ll be extra good.”

This wasn’t exactly what you were expecting after decorating. You had hoped the decor would maybe bring some holiday spirit to Eddie, and in a way… it did?

“I want to be a good girl.” You squeaked, tiny and breathy tone that had Eddie’s cock twitching in his jeans.

“Yeah? I can tell.” Eddie nodded, hands clamping around the plastic decoration. “I can make sure you are.” Eddie’s hand reached for your jaw, fingers splaying over your cheeks, pulling your gaze to him. “You just gotta ask me.”

You whimpered behind closed lips, the throb between your legs growing and growing. Eddie tilted his head, curls silhouetted by the tree’s lights. He looked nearly angelic, so pretty- it was so deceiving.

“C’mon,” Eddie rasped, thumb stroking over your cheekbone delicately. “Ask me to help you be a good girl.”

You squirmed in his touch, eyes casting down. His hand caught your jaw quickly, pulling your gaze to him. “Please…” You swallowed, heart thumping from the thrill of anticipation. “Please, help me be a good girl? I wanna be a good girl.”

Eddie smiled, satisfied. A gentle, affectionate squeeze to your cheeks. “Alright, I’ll help you.” He nodded, stepping back from you. His arms crossed over his chest, candy cane in his left hand, dangling loosely in his grasp.

“Strip for me.” Eddie nodded, tongue running down his cheek, taking in your frame. Your red sweater, cropped and positively festive.

Your hands quaked with anticipation, unbuttoning your jeans carefully, shoving them so they pooled at your sock clad feet. Eddie watched you, leaning cooly against the couch, eyes roaming your frame until you were just in a high cut, cotton thong and lacy bra- his favorite. He had helped you pick it out, snuck in the dressing room when the snobby lingerie store manager stepped away so you could model it for him.

You looked at him, arms down by your sides, the way he’d taught you to. Eddie lifted a brow, head bobbing at you. “C’mon, keep going.”

“All of it?” You whined. “Eddie, can I keep my panties on please? You know I hate the cane-”

“-All of it.” Eddie snapped firmly. “You wanna be good? You’re not acting like you wanna be good. Still acting like a brat. Still acting like a naughty girl.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, lip jutting out in a pout that had Eddie’s abs clenching at the throb in his cock. You knew what you were doing, giving him your most pitiful, pouty look to drive Eddie wild. It was working.

Eddie’s brow lifted, a final warning that he was done arguing, eyes flicking down to your panties, heart skipping when your fingers hooked around them, pulling them slowly down your legs.

Your hands found your sides again, palms twitching with excitement, smoothing down the top of your bare thighs. Eddie waited until your eyes lifted to his, holding your gaze for just a touch too long- long enough to have you squirming with anticipation.

“Bend over the couch for me. Hands in front.” Eddie nodded, his voice dropping into that dark rasp it always did when he’d step into this domineering role with you.

The faded green carpet lacked it’s usual softness, coated with glitter from the decor and you hadn’t got a chance to vacuum yet. The usual crocheted blanket was folded over the arm of the couch, a reindeer throw pillow next to it. You set the pillow in front of you, so you’d have something to grab onto, bending over the arm of the couch.

Your eyes stayed forward, Eddie’s hum of approval muffled out by his heavy soled footsteps moving closer to you. “Hm, how many strokes does a naughty girl deserve?” Eddie sighed animatedly. He was putting on a show for you, for him too.

“What do you think?” Eddie tapped the side of your hip lightly with the cane, dragging the cool plastic over your ass.

You shuddered, the hook of the candy cane ghosting over the crack of your cheeks. “I don’t know, sir.” You grit, eyes closing, fighting the quake in your voice. “Three?”

“Three?” Eddie scoffed, halting his movements, the hook side of the cane pressed against the fatty flesh under your ass. “Try again, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know.” You whined, toes wiggling into the carpet. You were throbbing, dizzy with the desire for Eddie to touch you, spank you, fuck you- do something to you.

“Hm, better watch it, naughty girl.” Eddie hissed, eyes narrowed in on your ass. He pressed the cane up, lifting your cheek so he could sneak a peek at your puffy lips, already slick with your own arousal. “Can see why you got on the naughty list. Little bratty thing, aren’t ya?”

“‘M not.” You pouted, chin dropping into your outstretched arms.

“Oh, I don’t think that’s true.” Eddie tsked, the cane moving closer and closer to your pussy. “And I think you should get a stroke for every month you were naughty this year. Twelve.”

You squirmed, hips wiggling and rocking in place. Eddie grinned, smoothing a hand over your spine. You jumped, relaxing under the familiar touch. “How’s that sound?” Eddie muttered, tapping your shoulder blade gently.

You turned back, chin hooking on your shoulder to meet his gaze. “Twelve?” Eddie asked, his hand still rubbing over your spine soothingly, like he did every night to lull you to sleep.

It made your heart swell with a warmth that had your cheeks burning with tingly heat. “Yeah.” You whispered, squeaking at the small squeeze Eddie gave your hip.

Eddie’s hand rubbed back down your spine, setting the candy cane on your upturned ass, shedding his sweatshirt slowly. “Think you’ll remember to be good this year after this?” Eddie questioned, tossing his sweatshirt on the chair behind him.

“Yes, sir.”

“You know what happens next year if you’re not good, right? If you’re on the naughty list again?” Eddie grabbed the cane slowly, dragging it over your ass and thighs.

“No, sir, I don’t.” You choked out, clenching the pillow in front of you.

“You get double.” Eddie said surely, bringing the cane down behind you. You felt the air on your skin, knees tightening with expectancy, the lingering threat looming closer and closer. “After that, I’ll just have to come down here every month. Cane you and make sure you get a monthly reminder to be good.”

You whined behind closed lips, hips lifting at the threat. Eddie grinned, lining the candy cane up to your ass. “And believe me, if I have to come down every month, take time outta my schedule to teach you a lesson, I won’t be as nice as this. You better consider yourself lucky this time. Better learn from it.”

“I will.” You panted, arms shaking from how hard you were clenching them. “I’ll be good from now on. I promise.” You sounded so sweet. Tone so airy and pouty and adorable, that tone that made Eddie’s vision blurry with desire.

“Good.” Eddie nodded, tapping the cane against your ass. “I’ll make sure of it. Count ‘em out for me, baby.”

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in through your nose. The cane pulled back, a whoosh! filling the air before it was snapping into your skin, a biting sting from the plastic spreading in a line across your cheeks. Your hips jumped, a tiny huff of a whine leaving your lips at the shock. It wasn’t nearly as unpleasant as the wooden cane Eddie used in the past, but still uncomfortable.

“One,” You breathed out through gritted teeth.

Eddie lined up the cane again, higher this time, before it was pulled back and sailing onto your bare skin, harder. Hard enough to have your head snapping up, toes bouncing off the carpet.

“Two!” You squeaked, Eddie’s hand on the small of your spine to steady you.

He watched you carefully. If this was the normal cane, you’d be crying by now- sniffly in the least. He lined it up lower, where your ass met your thighs. He lifted his hand, bringing the cane down with the type of strength he used with his hard soled slipper, hard and quick, pulling the sound he was looking for right out of you.

The yowl, punched straight out of your core, back arching and hips wiggling away. “Ow! Ow! Three!” You hissed, a white knuckled grip on the pillow. Your nose burned, tears brimming in the corner of your eyes now, the sting was searing now, leaving a sizzling sting that had you bouncing from foot to foot.

Eddie smirked in satisfaction, stilling you again with his hand firm on your lower back. “You learning your lesson?” Eddie grunted, the candy cane falling back down again, that white line imprinting your skin before disappearing, your cry following like clockwork.

“Yes!” You whined, and the petulant, bratty foot stomp that followed had Eddie’s cock lurching. “Four!”

“You’re gonna be really good this year, aren’t ya?” Eddie growled.

Swish!

“Yes! I’ll be good! I’ll be good!” You groaned, a watery, pathetic wail. “Five!” You bounced from toe to toe over the couch, hips shaking like you could possibly shake the sting out that way. The ache between your legs was blinding, rivaling the sting growing furiously on your backside.

Another stroke came before you were ready, quicker than the last time but just as unforgivingly searing. You cried out, a bubbling sob that tore from your throat. “You gonna make me do this again? Gonna be on the naughty list again?”

“Noooo,” You cried out. Your face rubbed against your arms, snotty cries from a burning nose and throat that you tried to soothe.

“What number was that?” Eddie tapped the cane lightly against you.

“Six.” You muttered, so pitifully sweet it made Eddie’s heart burst. The sniffle that followed was even more piteous, wet and snotty and somehow still bratty.

“Hm, ‘s not lookin’ great, baby.” Eddie teased, the cane snapping against your sore skin. “Already forgettin’.”

“Se-even.” You sobbed, head pressed into your arms, slack over the couch.

Eddie was nearly drooling, watching the way your hips rocked onto the arm of the couch for friction, catching glimpses of your pussy.

“You wanna be on the nice list.” Eddie nodded, striping you again right across the middle of your ass.

“Eight.”

“You know what nice girls get?” Eddie pressed, watching your shoulders shudder before he caned you, higher this time.

“No!” You hissed, knees buckling and legs quaking after the hit. “Nine.”

“Good girls who are on the nice list,” Eddie leaned forward, hovering over your squirming frame. “Get their pussies eaten out.” You whimpered, hips grinding down harder on the arm of the couch. “They get my tongue used on them as a reward for being so good.”

“Please, Ed, please.” You babbled, throbbing, needy, and your mind already numbed with the overwhelming sensation of pleasure and pain. “Please.”

“Nuh-uh-uh.” Eddie tsked, shaking his head at you. “You haven’t been good.” His hand rubbed over the hot skin of your ass, tickling just above your hidden pussy, grinning at the whine you gave. You stomped, huffing into the couch. There she was, the little brat he loved to play with.

“If you were good,” Eddie grunted, swinging the cane back and forward into your burning skin. You wailed, hand slapping into the couch, clawing at the cushion to keep yourself from reaching back. “You’d get eaten out.”

“T-Ten.” You whimpered, a pouty sound. Eddie could practically see your face- brows creased in a frown, lip jutted, tear stained cheeks and a runny nose.

“I’d use my tongue on you,” Eddie purred. You whined, nasally and desperate, hips swiveling down for friction. “I’d make you cum over and over and over.”

You gasped when the cane cut into your ass with an unforgiving snap, an inflamed imprint left in its wake. “Eleven.”

“I’d even let you sit on my face so you could grind down just like that.” Eddie teased, tapping your rocking hips with the cane lightly. “Let you do that on my face instead of on the couch, rubbing your pussy all over my couch like that when you’re getting spanked. Seems awfully naughty, if you ask me.” He tutted.

Your toes curled, his words were cruel, teasing, made your body burn with embarrassed heat- yet you were so close.

“I don’t think you’re gonna be very good this year. Don’t know if I believe you.” Eddie shook his head. “You’re supposed to be getting punished, not enjoying this.”

“I-I’m not.” You panted, shaking your head furiously.

“You’re not?” Eddie scoffed, setting the cane to rest on your ass. His hand dipped between your thighs, fingertips sliding through your sopping folds easily, smirking at the gasp that tore from your throat.

Eddie’s finger sunk into your soaking hole, pumping in and out at an agonizingly slow pace that had your head lifting, eyes pinched in pleasure. You were close, he could feel it, feel it in the way you clenched and strangled around his finger. He pulled away just as quickly as he put them in, your eyes flying open at the loss.

“What-”

“Look at this,” Eddie commanded, his fingers coated with your sticky arousal, pointer and middle finger spreading, webs of your slick forming with ever widening of his fingers. “You think someone not enjoying this would have that? Hm? Look at it.”

Your cheeks were scorching with heat, lifting your gaze shyly to his dangling fingers in front of your face, shaking your head lightly.

Eddie hummed in satisfaction, pulling his hand back, wiping your release over your burning ass. You yelped, jumping at the burn of his touch on your sore skin. Eddie’s lips curled, grabbing the candy cane off your hips.

“Last one.” Eddie muttered, lining the festive decoration up against your skin, tapping gently. “You ready, baby?”

“‘M ready.” You sighed, cheek pressed into your outstretched arms.

Eddie was sure he was about to bust at the sight of you- glassy eyed, sniffling lightly, whimpering with every roll of your hips. Oh, it was too fuckin’ much.

Eddie brought the cane down hard- hard enough he thought it might snap in half. The final blow that had you gasping, a strangled whine huffing out of your chest in a gasping heave before your body tensed, quivering at the sensation the impact left.

“T-Twelve.” You whimpered, cheek pressed against your arm, so spacy in ecstasy you were dribbling out of the corner of your mouth.

Your ass was stinging with that itchy, red-hot irritation that had you desperate to rub it out, only you knew it would only make the ache worse. You were throbbing between the legs, slick and frustrated, desperate for him to touch you.

Eddie’s hand skated in a feather light touch over your ass, passing so delicately over each of your lips, coated with your own slickness. “You learned your lesson?” Eddie hummed, swallowing the spit that filled his mouth at the sight of you, presented so perfectly over the arm of the couch for him- for him to fuck you.

“Ready to be a good girl? Be on the nice list?” His hand didn’t stop, sliding down the inside of your thigh, pushing lightly so you’d spread your legs.

“Yeah,” You sighed, airy and a little pouty, cheek still pressed to the couch pillow.

“Yeah? Look at me, baby.” Eddie patted your thigh gently, hovering over you.

You blinked, looking up at him with sweet, glassy, rounded eyes. “You alright?” Eddie asked, scanning your features carefully, testing the waters of where you were.

“Yeah.” You hummed, lip jutting ever so lightly. “I’ll be good now.”

“I know you will.” Eddie nodded. “Are you alright? You with me, baby?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, shimmying your body so it contorted and angled towards him. “I’m ready to be good, so you can fuck me now.” The bluntness of your words mixed with the light, breathy tone, so deceivingly sweet- it made Eddie’s head spin.

“Yeah?” He grinned, dimples creasing. “I was gettin’ to that, baby.”

“You can get to it now.” You hummed, slipping out of that hazy fog that he always got you in, back into your bratty ways. Eddie’s lips twitched, biting back a smirk. “‘M ready for it. I’ll be really good this year.”

“Alright, you earned it, I guess.” Eddie teased, pulling you by the small of your waist back up the arm of the couch. “How you want me, babe? This good?”

“Yeah, just let me-” You snatched the pillow in front of you, pushing it under your chest. “Ready.”

“You sure are, holy shit.” Eddie muttered, eyes glued to your parted thighs, your sopping cunt making his head reel at the sight. “You gonna be a good girl? Be my good girl?”

“Yes,” You whine, hips wiggling back further to him. “I’ll be good, so good, please.”

Eddie slipped two fingers into your sopping hole, pumping in and out just as slow as before. Your toes curled, body jolting with that euphoric, white hot bolts of pleasure. A small whine, quiet but pathetically desperate slipped from your lips.

Another whine followed, huffier this time, more demanding. “Alright, alright, I gotcha.” Eddie gritted, pumping his shaft slowly, smearing his own pre-leakages over his head, down his shaft. “I gotcha. Relax, baby.”

Your vision blurred at the feeling of him pushing into you, that achingly familiar stretch, your walls tightening with every slow roll of his hips further and further into you. Your ass was raw with the still fresh strokes of the cane, Eddie’s hips and groin snapping into the irritated skin with a purposeful punch of his cock inside of you.

Tears brimmed your eyes, of pleasure or pain or both, you weren’t really sure. The sensation was enough to have you mindless, cheek smushed into the couch cushion, whimpering. “Fuck, you gonna be my good girl? Be my-my nice girl?” Eddie hissed, eyes half-lidded, hypnotized by the sight of your pussy swallowing his cock with every roll of his hips.

“Yeah.” You whined, a ghosting of a whimper tailing on your words.

“Yeah.” Eddie grunted in a mocking tone, fingers sinking into the fat of your hips. “Holy fuck, you feel so fuckin’ good. You know that? ‘Course you know that. This feel good? Am I makin’ you feel good, baby?” His hand fell on your ass, a stinging hand print left in its wake on your already sensitive skin.

You yelped, head snapping up at the impact, red manicured nails curling around the needlepoint pillow, grappling at the loopy stitches while Eddie plowed into you from the back. Fingers bruising your hips and waist from the way Eddie was using your body to fuck himself, until he finally halted, heavy breathing gasps of pleasure. He pulled out, a thick stream of his own release drooling out of you and towards the faded floral upholstery.

Somehow, the lights on the trees and strung along the walls seemed brighter now, with you curled into his neck. Eddie blew the smoke away from you, towards the chilly night air that crept in from the open window.

“I think I kinda get it.” Eddie muttered, a hand rubbing down your back soothingly, pulling you out of your post orgasm hazy state. You hummed, nuzzling into his chest, curling into his body for warmth from the breeze that swept in. “Get why you like all this stuff.”

You lifted your gaze, eyes still glowing with the remnants of emotion, but rounding in the sweetest way. “Yeah? You gettin’ in the spirit, Munson?” You giggled softly.

Eddie snorted lightly, rolling the cigarette between his pointer and thumb over the ashtray. “Maybe.” He shrugged. “You lettin’ me spank you with a candy cane really got me in the spirit, babe.” You laughed, head dropping to his shoulder, eyes batting up at his.

The candy canes lined the path to Eddie’s trailer the next day. You helped him put them out in the freezing cold, occasionally rubbing your tender ass when he’d swish the decoration playfully, eyes dark and dazzling at you. One lone candy cane stayed inside, hanging on Eddie’s bedroom door knob to make it look more festive, or so he said.

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