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#but the brainrot for a certain devil is strong
alisadraws · 3 months
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Chibi Sev
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Because why not
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twinkie-buttercream · 2 years
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Skull Rock - Eddie Munson x F!Reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, reader is same age as Eddie. Drug use, unprotected PIV, oral giving/receiving (M, F), biting, semi-public (in the middle of the woods where no one can hear you scream), pining, fluff, language in excess, hot weather; reader is only described by clothing. Let me know if anything else needs to be tagged. :)
A/N: I have so many other wips I'm working on but the Eddie brainrot is too strong. I hope y'all like this! And I extra hope I did ok keeping him in character. ⊙﹏⊙; first time writing for him or any stranger things character! Gif is not mine. Nor is Eddie. Alas.
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"Slow down, Jesus H Christ on a six speed bike!"
"How 'bout you keep up?"
"How 'bout you eat me, Munson?"
"Don't tempt me, princess—"
"Eddie!"
"What? You said it!"
Both voices and bodies were on the verge of being breathless as you and Eddie Munson raced each other to Skull Rock. Eddie's was, as it often was, emphatic and teasing. You were, as you often were as well, indignant and cranky in the most casual way. Eddie beat you up the last stretch of the unmarked trail, chains jingling victoriously. He shot up two devils horns, sticking his tongue out a la Gene Simmons in lieu of a victory cry.
You wasted no time collapsing against the giant boulder that gave the spot its nickname, with its vaguely humanoid eye socket-like craters. The stone was the coolest thing you'd felt in a while as your bare arms pressed against the rough surface. Sinking to the ground, you shut your eyes and tried to catch your breath, feeling your heart in your throat.
"You ready?"
"Give me a minute, Eds, fuck," you cursed, coming out more like a whimpered moan as you wiped the sweat from your brow and hiked the back of your sweat-covered tank top higher up on your back, letting the cool stone touch your burning skin.
Your eyes were still shut. You didn't see the way Eddie was tracing every detail of you with his eyes, from the flushed sweaty sheen on your skin to the less-than-subtle fact you'd not worn a bra that day. The chill of the rock made your whole body shiver and your nipples stand at attention. He gnawed at his lower lip, chuckling a little at your low stamina.
The Hawkins summer heat had about done you both in. That's what led you to hide in the woods near the lake where it was cooler than it was in town. You slid to the ground, coming to a final rest, breathing still ragged.
Eddie drank you in there in your little high waisted denim cutoff shorts and red and white pinstriped knit spaghetti strap tank top, white tube socks and tawny hiking boots. He could look at you forever, but between your relaxed pose sprawled out with one of your knees up and your lips parted to better catch your breath, it was unwise to attempt, lest certain...issues arise.
He reached into the backpack he carried with him (you were a bit miffed that he carried the extra weight and still beat you up the hill, but that's a Metalhead for you) and extracted a frozen bottle of water, now heavily condensated and partly melted.
"Replenish yourself," he insisted, wasting no time in pressing the icy wet bottle into the crook of your neck.
Your eyes popped open so wide and so fast he thought they'd pop right out, and he wanted to laugh at that, but found himself too distracted by the pleasurable shriek that tore out of your throat. He didn't have time to question it; you snatched the cold bottle, broke the seal, and began to gulp down the icy water. It was so cold and so refreshing. You poured a bit of it on the back of your neck and your whole body shuddered again. You returned it to Eddie then, who managed to get what was left of the melted liquid before returning the bottle to the backpack.
"Feel better?" He asked, casual in tone despite the way his heart raced against his will.
You nodded and looked at him through your eyelashes, wiping sweat off your forehead. You'd gotten goosebumps. Eddie slunk down beside you, digging through his black lunchbox. He extracted a perfectly rolled joint and a bic lighter.
"Light 'er up, Ed," you nodded.
"Hell yeah," he concurred, placing the thing between his lips and flicking the little white lighter until there was a nice red cherry burning at the end of the joint.
He took a heavy drag off of it and held it in as he handed it to you, who then did the same. The rotation continued with you coughing hard every other hit. Eddie never judged your 'pussy lungs' as you called them. He was the type to pat your back if you were losing your shit and try to calm you down, make sure you had a drink, that kind of thing. He may look intimidating but he really was a sweetie wrapped up in denim and chains. The two of you sat and smoked the whole thing down to a butt. He put it out and saved the roach for later, leaning back against the rock.
The pair of you had moved under the Skull, into the shade once the evening sun crept through the canopy of the trees. You'd had the sense to pack a little picnic blanket that came in handy separating yourselves from the dirty forest floor. The black and blue quilt was rather small albeit lightweight, so now you were sat beside him, practically on him, arm to arm, thigh to thigh, practically one being, high as hell and enjoying the peace and quiet.
Now he laid back with his eyes shut. Unbeknownst to him, you were eyeing him in appreciation whilst he was indisposed. The sprawling, gorgeous form of Eddie Munson. Gentle pale face, sparkling ever wandering brown eyes shut peacefully in a half doze, eyelashes dusting the tops of his cheeks. He was dressed the same way he always was; dark jeans, that hand-customized denim Dio jacket, the Hellfire Club shirts, all those rings. Hair dark and voluminous and unruly as always. He was just so pretty. You'd been his friend for years, one of few who stuck around aside from the band. Truth be told, you'd always felt something deeper for Eddie, though you could never place a finger on how—
"What you checking me out for?"
Your whole body tensed and heated up when you realized his eyes had opened and found yours already on him. You blushed hard and stuttered for a moment aimlessly.
"I, uh...making sure you're...okay and all...yeah."
"Yeah?" A cocky grin.
"...Yeah."
You were sky high, but you wish you could pass the stratosphere and land on another planet. You suddenly wanted to crawl out of your skin for some reason. Your hands sat on your thighs, palms down, relaxed. Your eyes drifted shut in the following silence. You felt yourself relax, slowly. Until his pinky found yours, and wheedled underneath, entwining with your digit. Shy. Nervous. Easy. You didn't pull away, but gave a tentative, microscopic squeeze. Nothing was said, but everything was, until you couldn't keep quiet.
"Eds?"
"Yes, milady?"
"Do you like me?"
He tensee up. You felt it.
"Why, do you like me?"
He played with his hair, hiding his face partly behind his long teased locks, blinking long eyelashes at you, those big brown eyes twinkling.
"I'm here aren't I? Of course," you faltered, trying to be casual.
"You know what I mean. And I know what you mean, princess."
He sighed and your heart crashed into your stomach. Instantly you braced yourself for the inbound rejection, even as his fingers swallowed your hand now, clasping with his own, the slight cold feeling of his rings soothing on burning flesh. He squeezed tightly and scooted around to face you better, but you couldn't look at him.
"Hey, hey," he spoke gently, "look at me, sunshine. Hey."
You finally chanced a glance back at his face. He was more serious than you've ever seen him. Those brown eyes darted between yours, holding your gaze captive, and he was nibbling on his lower lip at the corner, a microscopic stimulation you knew as his pre-performance jitter tell. All eyes on you though, no crowd in sight.
"Can I be honest?" He asked softly.
"I would hate you if you weren't," you mumbled.
Here it comes.
He gnawed at his soft pink lip a little harder. Your breath caught in your throat.
"I've liked you since the first day I met you," he finally started. "I've liked you since you were the only one in school that didn't treat me like a disease. I've liked you since you asked me to lend you my Black Sabbath tape, even if you didn't like it..."
The emphasis he placed on the word 'liked' every time he said it had you flinching. You weren't sure if he got what you were intending after all. At least he wasn't weirded out by you, but…
"—But," he cut himself off. You realized he'd gotten a little closer when you lost focus. You could smell his cheap cologne. "I never really realized how much..."
"How much?" You repeated, blinking rapidly, starting to feel unsure whether you were being let down easy or not. Eddie swallowed hard.
"...I never realized just how much I want to kiss you. I never realized until...well, today, I think. You've been too good to me, for so long. And I promise you, I would ruin you."
"Maybe I want to be ruined," you blurted out breathlessly before you could think. He blinked at you, eyes wide in surprise. A wide grin spread across Eddie's face, and he twirled his hair between his fingers with his free hand for a second, letting the heat in his face come and pass.
"Is that so?" His voice was teasing now.
"Just kiss me, Eddie," you fussed. His demeanor changed again. He was vulnerable.
"As you wish," he practically whispered, and the last bit of space left between the two of you was gone.
It started soft. His lips were soft and warm, and he tasted like weed and the ice cream you two had eaten before heading out on this excursion. Sweet, earthy. A little minty from the mint chocolate chip. And he didn't pressure you. There was almost an air of innocence in the way his lips molded to yours, the way his free hand came to your cheek, his calloused thumb caressing the tender flesh of your face. His movements were gentle, experienced; a soft rhythm played out until you had to breathe. As you pulled away, he sucked your lower lip between his, and with the lightest possible pressure he dragged it between his teeth as you separated. Something in your gut flipped, moreso than the butterflies eating you alive from the inside. This was different. You felt tense in your core. You felt hot. You immediately missed his touch.
"Eds?" You barely squeaked.
"Yeah, babe? Can I call you babe now?"
You grinned and nodded.
"Can you do that again though?"
"Kiss you? Hell yeah—"
"I mean the...last thing. That you did. With your teeth."
"You like that, princess?" His eyebrows disappeared into his bangs, grin becoming cocky.
You nodded rapidly.
"I would do anything to please my queen," he spoke in his theatrical Dungeon Master voice, not as loud or flamboyant as usual, but the passion was there. As he leaned down he got soft again though, eyes holding yours again in that hypnotic way. "If I go too far, tell me to stop, okay? No hard feelings, I'll understand. Just...tell me. Okay?"
You nodded again. "I will. I trust you, Eds."
He bit his lip and looked almost a little...pained? No. The same sense of urgency that was blooming inside your core was making him feverish as well. You'd been his closest confidant for a long time. For a while he just loved your company: how smart you are, how kind to others, how down to earth you stayed, how you stuck up for the lost and the unloved, whether that meant saving a raccoon hit by a car and nursing it back to health or punching Patty Reagan in the teeth for cornering Eddie with her posse of cheerleaders harassing him within like, the first week of freshman year. You broke her nose and looking back, Eddie was pretty sure that was the moment he fell for you. That was six years ago. You'd graduated. He stuck around, but you stayed close to him even after school ended for you; you never judged him. That's when he knew for sure. And now, under Skull Rock, here by your side, all that love gave way to the carnal instinct buried in nearly all human beings. He would never admit to you how he'd dreamed about touching you under your clothes and woke up in cold sweats with the fresh mental image of you cumming around his hard cock, having to immediately take care of the resulting very painful morning erection. He might admit to you the dreams he has about holding you close in a place you share together, falling asleep to you and waking up to you. Looking at you now though, he felt a twang in a very private place and knew if he started with you, he would never be able to stop. Not after one time, not after a million. Not till death. Or undeath. That would be metal as fuck.
He leaned down and kissed you the same way, slow at first and gentle, hand cupping your cheek, his other letting go of your fingers to cup your other cheek. This time, though, he slid his tongue across your lower lip. Almost involuntarily, an instinct, you opened for him, and he tasted you. Caramel vanilla fudge sundae and Northern Lights. Fucking gorgeous. His tongue tangled with yours and though you had been kissed before, it was never like this, and it never made your stomach twirl and flip like this either. You had to lock your knees for a moment to calm yourself, hoping he didn't notice. His teeth found your lower lip again, and you leaned into him, hands climbing the front of his sweat-and-water-soaked Hellfire shirt, one getting tangled in his hair at the back of his head. He slipped his fingers behind the base of your skull and kissed you harder. You felt dizzy. Once you separated for air again, a string of saliva kept you united until it broke. Your lips were swollen and so were his. In the time you were joined at the lips, he'd come to hover over you, one knee between your thighs. You had no self defense against your body now. But you became very aware you weren't the only one.
"Eds," you cooed again softly, staring into the deep chocolate pools of his eyes that came to stare back just as intensely, "you're poking me."
His face reddened until it matched the demon on his shirt as he looked down and found himself, yes, rock hard against your leg. Skinny jeans didn't tent well, but there was certainly a bulge, and you were no fool.
"S-sorry," he stammered, trying to back away; his knee rubbed against the heat of your core through your shorts and you sucked in your lower lip. It was now or never. Or at least, you really wanted him now.
"Who said you had to be sorry?" You blurted out once more.
His eyes went wide and he stared at you. Regret didn't hit you immediately, but it circled you like a hungry jungle cat. You may as well get in the hole you dug just now regardless of whether the claws sink in.
"I'm not as much of a saint as you might think, Eddie Munson," you spoke with a slight pout.
He grinned and laughed. Your heart panged with indignance, but the bit of shame made your legs want to come together again. Eddie calmed himself and stroked your cheek again lovingly.
"I know, I know, princess. Are you...sure though?" He became a little more grave, letting you see the gravity of the question.
As jovial as he was outwardly, his heart was pounding, making a great escape attempt from behind his ribcage. This was his greatest fantasy, was it really about to come true, here and now, with you? Could be be so lucky? Could be be so, dare he say it, blessed? You were an angel, after all. His fallen angel.
You played with the hem of his t-shirt, your knees finally jerking to lock together to stave off the growing heat in your core. Instead you squeezed the hell out of his thigh. He swallowed hard and wondered if you knew the effect you had on him. Maybe this was a cruel joke.
"I'm as sure as I've ever been, Eds. If it makes you feel any better, I'm in just as, uh... rough shape," you tittered awkwardly, feeling more shame at your admittance. It was an addictive sort of sheepishness.
He glanced down, staring at the patch in your shorts that seemed a little darker than the rest of the denim. He wondered if you'd skipped your bra and panties that day, but only briefly; he would have a heart attack if he thought too hard about what was between your legs at that moment. He was.
"Are we being totally honest right now?" He asked, avoiding your gaze, trying to keep his head from spinning.
"Of course, milord," you teased, brushing your hair out of your eyes to look up at him expectantly.
Well, Munson, you tell her now or you die trying.
"When I said all that stuff earlier about not knowing I wanted to kiss you till we were about to? It was kind of a crock of shit. I've known for a long while."
Your heart did flips. He was so cute even now in this state of semi-aroused delirium.
"That so?"
"Honest truth. I, uh...just didn't wanna come across as...desperate."
"Desperate?"
"For this. Taking you to Skull Rock, knowing the rep it has. Smoking you out. This wasn't part of the plan but fuck, I am thanking every deity I can think of that this is how it's going. I don't know how much longer I could lay beside you in those shorts and not say anything. Or do anything. I just didn't want you to think after all these years I'm just trying to…I don't know, just fuck you."
You didn't know how to feel. Excited, obviously, but so touched, so surprised that all this time he's felt this way…like you haven't. It was a weight off you to know he felt the same. Oh. Relief. That's the word you're looking for.
"I'd never think that Eddie. You're not that kind of guy," you soothed, stroking his cheeks with your thumbs. "But, just out of curiosity... what would you do to me, Eds?" You took his hand and placed it high on your thigh. His fingertips dug into the bare flesh, soft and hot, and he gulped again.
"Fuck," he groaned, "I'll show you if you want."
You grinned at him. There was one thing left to say, and you only hoped it would affect him the way you thought.
"Obey your master," you shrugged, casual, simple.
He groaned a guttural groan and sunk his lips to yours again, hard, his other hand finding the small of your waist, climbing up, under the fabric of your tank top, onto the soft globe of your breast. You whimpered into the kiss as he toyed with your lip with his teeth again, and your hips involuntarily ground against his leg.
"Fuck, baby," he growled against your mouth, "you wanted this a while too, huh?"
"Dreamt about it," you nodded, peppering him with open mouthed kisses, "wanted you for a long time Eddie."
"Really?" All the energy ceased for a moment and he pulled back to search your eyes with a genuine curiosity, "How long?"
"A very long time. S'why I left Peter before graduation. Felt bad thinking about you when I couldn't sleep. Felt worse about thinking of you when I was, um…with him."
That was the hottest thing you could have said to Eddie. He imagined you in the backseat of Peter Oliver's dad's station wagon, thinking only of Eddie as someone else tried to make you feel the way you knew Eddie could.
"That so?" He kissed you again, brief but passionate, "why didn't you ever tell me?"
"Didn't want to know if you didn't feel the same. Better to just...imagine and be happy with what could be, I guess."
"That why you always dress like this around me? See if what could be, would be? Hm?" He pinched your ass, the bottoms of your cheeks exposed by the minimal covering of your shorts. You flinched in the best way.
"Maybe. S'also just comfy when it's hot like this..." You mumbled.
"Mhmm," he hummed, burying his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking and licking until he found the spot that made you squirm, and attached himself there, still teasing your nipple and massaging your tit.
"You can still change your mind," he informed you between kisses, softly, though you were moaning underneath him at his every touch.
"Can. Won't. You can too though," you panted, already struggling for words, but desperate to be sure he was comfortable.
"Girl of my dreams writhing beneath me in the throes of carnal sin? Yeah, right," he teased, and then his hand found the button and zipper of your shorts. He made quick work of them, and his body reacted hard to the confirmation you had no panties on.
"Eds," you gasped as his calloused fingers wormed into the front of your shorts. The tip of his index finger dipped into the slick hot wetness between your thighs and he gasped.
"Fuckin' wet for me," he growled, "so wet, baby."
"Mm," you nodded, unable to elaborate.
It had been so long since anyone touched you like this. You didn't date after Peter. Everyone including Eddie assumed the bastard broke your heart and you were still healing, but knowing the truth felt like the end of a mystery. No one could hold up to the way you loved Eddie. Knowing that was better than any prior victory to him. Knowing he was the one you wanted.
He began to toy with your clit, using your slick to lubricate the pleasure button as he played with it. You squirmed at every touch. His fingers were so talented. You knew that already, but experiencing it was something else entirely. His other hand left your tit to tug your lower garments down, and regrettably his right hand left your crotch to do the same. It took a little team effort to peel the fabric over your ass, but before you knew it, you were clad in only your tank top, socks and boots. For a moment Eddie just sat on his haunches before you and appreciated the sight splayed out for him now. He, seemingly without noticing himself, palmed his erection over his jeans, wincing.
"Fuck, princess, you look so good like this," he groaned, dipping down and forward to kiss you again.
His hands traveled your body in a torturous, slow manner. There wasn't much chill to his rings now but the sensation of smooth metal in contrast to rough fingers and the itchy material of the blanket beneath you, all you could focus on was that touch. That and the way he looked at you, like you were divine. You felt divine. His soft lips trailed kisses from your lips to your jaw, down your neck, and with great pleasure he captured your right nipple in his mouth and began to suck and tease and roll it between his teeth, grinding his hips against the ground between your legs. Fuck, all he wants is you.
His right hand slid between your legs again. He teased your entrance a bit more with those long, thick fingers, but before you could beg him to fuck you with them, he dropped to the ground and spread you out with his thumbs, exposing your pussy fully to him. You were glistening with sweat and slick, and with a deep breath in for air, he descended. You held your breath unwittingly but the moment his hot tongue found your clit in a broad flat hard press, the hood of it also tugged up by a well-intentioned middle finger, and started licking in stiff little motions, it all escaped you. You could only see his eyes, and that was a chancy thing, given his fringe. Those big brown eyes snapped up and met your gaze from his positioning and you swore you would have melted right then and there if you weren't so desperate for more.
"Eddie, baby," you whimpered, arching your back to try and give him a better angle.
He groaned against your cunt, eyes rolling back with sheer delight as your thighs tightened around his skull. He forced your knees wide open again after relishing that sensation for a moment or two.
"Keep 'em spread for me like a good girl. That's it, princess," he praised you with kisses to your inner thighs, just beyond the realm of your pleasure. You got a wicked idea.
"Yes, master," you cooed, spreading your knees a little further, pulling them up a little closer to your chest; this had the exact intended effects. He growled against you, and the vibrations against your clit made your head spin. You moaned and tangled your fingers in his long curly locks.
"Keep talking like that and I won't get to fuck you before I cum," he confessed.
"I aim to please," you grunted; this was the wrong choice. One finger teased at your entrance briefly before sliding in with ease as he continued his oral onslaught. Fuck, he's good. "Eds!"
He looked up at you again from his spot between your legs and gave a mischievous wink. You whimpered as the second finger went in. One was easy, two was just on the right side of manageable. You clenched around his fingers.
"Fuck!" He cried, feeling the pulsation of your walls, imagining how good it would feel around his aching cock, straining now against his jeans, neglected. That didn't matter. This was about you. His patterns were hard to keep up with, but every change was a new wave of sinful ecstasy, every caress of his tongue against your clit, every time his fingers curled up and fondled that especially sensitive spot inside you over and over again until you cried out for him again, until you couldn't think straight, until...
"I'm gonna lose it Eds," you whimpered, high and needy, legs trying to snap shut, but you fought with all your might as you felt that growing heat, that tension in your gut, grow stronger by the moment; Eddie's fingers came to a crescendo in rhythm.
"Fuckin' cum for me, princess, cum for master. Fuck!"
You could tell the pet name electrified him, given the way he thrusted into the ground again at its use. A stream of curses and praise fell from your lips, some gibberish, some coherent, all with the same encouraging inclination he's doing his job right, until finally, the cord in you snapped, and you had to brace your hands against Skull Rock behind you to ground yourself in your astonishing climax. He kept thrusting his fingers into you and lapping at your poor cunt until the throbbing stopped. He came to a slow and then a halt, and with only a little regret, his huge fingers slipped out of you. He sat up, smacking your knee in a "good job champ" gesture, wiping the ridiculous amount of your slickness off his face.
"You look so good covered in my cum," you blurted for a third time now, and his eyebrows raised again, for not the last time.
"That so, princess? Maybe we'll have to make it a routine," he grinned that shit-eating Eddie Munson grin that made your heart flutter every time you saw it, and then he began to stand; you grabbed his hand.
"Your turn," you informed him; he looked at you, puzzled.
"Baby, it's okay, that was fuckin' amazing, you did so good, you don't have to worry about me," he told you softly, stroking your hand with his pruned fingers.
You stared hungrily at the tent in his jeans.
"I don't have to, but I want to," you told him, lust creeping through your tone. You licked your lips slow and with purpose. "I wanna know how you taste, Eddie Munson."
He couldn't unbuckle his belt fast enough. You dragged him back down with you, rolling over so he took your place on the blanket with his back against the rock. It was hot to the touch from where you'd been there just moments ago. Your nimble fingers made quick work of his button and zipper, and by fuck, once he was freed from the confines of the denim pants, even in his underwear he stuck straight up, hard and proud. You stroked his shaft through the fabric of his boxers and he had to bite his lip hard.
"Ooh, god, baby," he groaned.
"Excited already?" You tutted at him and stroked him again, enjoying the way he reddened so fast.
It had been a while for you, sure, but the preps in high school called you a slut for only one reason: though Peter was your only lover in the timeframe of those four years, it somehow circulated through the whole basketball team (and thus to all the cheerleaders they banged) that you, innocent you, gave the best head in Hawkins High, maybe in all of Indiana. But rumors were what they were. Eddie couldn't get them out of his head as your eyes flickered up to meet his; you bent your head and kissed the head of his dick over his boxers. He could have wept holy tears. When you finally pulled the fabric off him, his cock sprung up and pressed against his stomach he was so hard. He had the beginnings of abs, too, you noticed them for the first time up close as you pushed his shirt up over his stomach. Eddie was right. He's going to ruin you. But not if you ruin him first.
"Baby," Eddie rumbled, "you look so beautiful."
It was that sweet praise that made you put aside your nerves and gently grasp the base of him. You pressed your tongue flat to his slit and took one long, very purposeful, torturous, delicious lick, from the back of your tongue to the tip of it, shaping it into a hard point as it passed over him. His fingers buried in your hair already.
"Fuck," he growled. There was almost regret there in not telling you sooner.
He stared at you in sheer awe and lust as your tongue swirled around his head again, and finally, tucking your teeth under your lips, you took him wholly in your mouth and began sucking. You relished the taste of him. A little sweaty and musky and ever so slightly bitter from the taste of his precum, you found yourself enjoying it. Maybe that's why you gave such good head: you genuinely enjoyed it. The feeling of making your partner happy, or even just the feeling of a hard cock ramming the back of your throat…you took as much of him in as you could (Eddie is a lot bigger, longer, thicker than you'd expected), pushing yourself until you felt him hit the back of your throat. He groaned loud and low as he felt your tongue stick out on the underside of his shaft, nearly touching his balls. You rescinded then and did it again at a slow pace.
"Doing so good, baby, I didn't know you had a mouth like that, fuck," Eddie praised through hard grit teeth; he couldn't take his eyes off of you, and thought he could have died when yours snapped up to meet his.
Your hand and mouth found a sort of synchronization, a rhythm to unfurl him with, and he'd occasionally thrust against you, trying not to hurt you but becoming more aware that you can take it. You hummed as you took him in, letting him relish the vibration of your throat around his cock. You hollowed your cheeks when you could, but he was a lot to take in. You gagged very rarely, but the tears were starting, just from the physical reaction to his dick using your uvula as a punching bag. He watched every move and kept thinking about the way your pussy almost broke his fingers when you came. Well, maybe not, but he certainly felt the pressure. Your mouth was a fucking treat but he wanted to know what it felt like to fuck you, truly, to bury himself balls-deep inside you, make you scream for him. You carried on sucking him off though, a free hand coming up from under to gently fondle his balls, and when he felt that all too familiar buildup inside them, inside his core, he pulled your hair, and you took the signal to cease and desist. As you sat back, a long trail of saliva mixed with precum kept you connected to his twitching cock, until you wiped the drool off your lips and chin. You licked your lips slowly and he couldn't stop himself from kissing you. It was a weird sensation to taste himself on you, but it was kinky. You could still taste your own juices on him too, and felt quite the same.
"You're way too fucking good at that, princess," Eddie groaned, panting hard, holding you by the ass cheeks.
"Then why'd you make me stop?" You pouted; he gnawed at his lip again. You seemed irritated. "I wanted to make you cum too."
He glanced down your body and wondered if he had any condoms on him. Normally he kept one in his wallet, but you'd told him they get ruined that way, so he got rid of it. Fuck.
"I just…fuck, I really want to feel you, babe," his hands trailed up your back and pulled you closer to him. Both of you were naked from the waist down now and his hard cock was throbbing against your belly, "but I don't have any protection."
You stared at him and bit your lip. Now that he'd mentioned it, you would quite like to be fucked into the dirt by him.
"I've been on the pill since Peter," you told him, "if you're good, uh…I'm good."
He stared at you with wide eyes, putting two and two together, until finally it clicked.
"You saying what I think you're saying, princess?"
You grabbed his cock and stroked it, longing for it, desperate.
"Take me, master."
In an instant you were on your back on that blanket again. Eddie propped your head up with the backpack, mostly emptied of contents though it was, it was some sort of cushion. Eddie had only fucked with condoms. So had you. But in high school you just fell into the habit of taking those little round pills every day about 3pm. You'd kept up with it swimmingly.
Eddie sat back on his haunches before you, staring down at you, drinking you in.
"I mean it. Fuck, you look so gorgeous. I almost feel like I'm defiling a work of art," he stroked his cock as he spoke, lazily but with a purpose.
Your knees opened and rose near your chest, exposing yourself to Eddie. Sucking his cock got you all sorts of wet again, and you ran a few fingers across your own pussy, testing the waters, more or less.
"Master takes what he likes," you continued into the bit, and he sunk to his knees before you.
"I don't deserve you," he almost whimpered.
"You do. And I deserve you." You rebutted, looking him firm in the eye, burning with lust, but also something more.
He nodded once and braced himself at your entrance, teasing the throbbing head of his cock against your wet cunt, shivers going down his spine just from feeling it, really feeling it.
"You're sure?" He asked, one last time, even as you tried to buck your hips and arch your back to get him inside you.
You nodded, worrying your lower lip.
"That's not enough, princess. I need to hear it. Tell me," his voice was gentle, easy, as he stroked your thigh with his thumb.
"Please, I'm sure, Eddie, please fuck me," you begged, tears prickling the corners of your eyes from sheer want. You've never wanted anything more in your life.
He needed no more encouragement and began to inch into you, slowly at first, to let you adjust. But holy fuck, it took every iota of willpower he had not to ravage you. Nothing felt as good as this. Nothing felt so fucking raw and pure as genuinely feeling the soft wet walls of your pussy wrapping around his hard cock, exposed, natural in most every sense. You mewled, so wet it was almost more difficult not to slide into you all at once. But you were tight and warm and fucking incredible.
"How's it feel, baby?" Eddie purred, watching your every expression, every move, for any sign of discomfort.
"Like heaven," you whimpered, arching your back, "you don't have to be easy with me, Eds. I won't break."
"Oh, don't tell me that, princess," he replied, sounding concerned at first until you figured out the game when he slammed inside you, bottoming out. You felt him against your fucking cervix he was so big, "a guy like me could really do some damage to a pretty pussy like yours."
Your eyes shut tight in sheer ecstasy. Electricity shot through you, starting from your cunt, tingling all the way through your body as he slowly dragged himself almost fully back out.
"Ruin me, Eddie," you cried, clawing at his stomach with short nails, still leaving tracks, "fuck me out. Make me yours."
"Make me yours, what?" He emphasized, licking his thumb and bringing it to your swollen clit in a hard and unforgiving press.
"Master!" You gasped out, bucking against his touch.
He slammed into you again, this time in a rhythm that you hoped would never end. He worried he was losing control, pounding into you the way he was. He hooked one of your legs around his shoulder, and bit into your flesh to keep from screaming out. You felt so fucking good. He was getting pussy drunk, and the sweet little whines and cries you made were just too much. So he bit you. You shrieked and his other hand clamped over your mouth.
"We are still outside, princess," he reminded you; you'd almost forgotten in the excitement where you were.
He let go of your mouth and braced himself against the rock, relishing every sensation he felt in that moment as you did; he felt you squeeze his cock, felt you writhe underneath him, listened to you whimper and the dirty sounds of his balls slapping your ass, along with the distant sounds of birds chirping. Even the smell in the air was intoxicating. Fresh air tinged with the musk of sex. Eddie had to bite you again to keep from yelling out. You didn't seem to mind. In fact, the little slight bit of pain added to the sensations, grounded you. He continued to toy with your clit in a steady and reliable circular motion.
"You look so good like this," he praised, "all drunk on my cock, taking it like it's your life purpose. Fuck baby, you're gonna make me cum."
You nodded desperately, biting against your own hand now, trying to keep quiet. You wanted to scream for him, but the risk of getting caught by someone, no matter how slim a chance, was enough to keep you quiet as you could manage. You squeezed him hard with the walls of your pussy and he growled at you.
"'M close too, Eds," you whimpered, and he began to rub your clit a little faster at this information; it was true, you felt that white hot buildup returning, that incredible high you chased on your own for the last couple of years, the one Eddie could pull from you in minutes, it seemed. You writhed underneath him and he bit your leg a third time, harder than before, still groaning lowly against your flesh.
"Where you want it, princess?" He grunted, hips beginning to stutter.
"Don't stop! Don't stop! Eddie, please!" You cried out, a little louder than you meant to, but Eddie couldn't deny you, and kept pounding your pretty pussy until he felt you convulsing the way his fingers did earlier.
Your walls tightened around him, involuntarily, a pulsing like your cunt was trying to swallow him whole, so tight and wet and hot he was willing to let you. But he couldn't stop himself, either, and when you came, it felt too good; he emptied his balls into you, deep as he could thrust, running on carnal instinct. He was gasping for air, hair a mess all around him like a dark halo, and you couldn't tear your eyes off him, slicked with sweat, gorgeous. You were a sight too, underneath him, panting hard, shirt ridden up to expose your stomach and nearly your tits. He stayed buried in you for a minute, cock still twitching, hard.
"Holy fuck," he breathed, reaching down to brush your hair off your face; you were covered in sweat yourself so it was a bit of a battle.
You glowed, he could swear it, the way you smiled at him, all in a fucked out daze. He pushed his hips forward a little and you whimpered once more as he slid slowly out of you. You felt a warm wet heat pool out of you, down into your ass cheeks. Eddie stared as the combination of his cum and your slick seemed to pour out of you. God there was so much.
"You look so pretty dripping with cum, baby," he praised; he took his boxers and began to clean you up, the slow swipe between your legs to collect your juices almost painful from overstimulation. He leaned down and kissed you, gentle as the first time.
"I thought I always look pretty," you joked softly, absolutely spent.
"You do, fair point," he chuckled warmly, sinking down to lie beside you on the ruined blanket, wrapping an arm around your waist.
You reached into the backpack you were resting on and extracted his cigarettes without being asked.
"Marry me," he uttered as you handed them to him with his lighter.
"Keep this up and I just might, Munson." You teased, placing a kiss on his lips before he could insert a cigarette. You kissed his jaw as you pulled away, and his chest after that.
He looked at you as he lit the end and took a heavy drag, and found you staring right back, absolutely smitten.
"I think I love you," you whispered.
"Oh, princess," he sighed, exhaling smoke through his nose, "I know I love you. Have for a while. Now there's no takebacks."
The two of you laughed together. The sun had gone down by the time the pair of you made it back to where you'd parked. It was almost midnight by the time you actually got back to Eddie's trailer, and it was late afternoon when you finally departed for your own home, in love and beyond exhausted, but happy.
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beevean · 8 months
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Top 10 reason why Hecula is best ship, go!
Oh, but what a fortuitous coincidence :) I vaguely imply that I'd like more asks about Hecula, and lo and behold :) it's almost like you're in hell with me :)
I'm not sure I can rank them, but if you know me, you know which ones are the peak reasons I'm suffering from terminal brainrot <3
I am very weak for the narrative of a person trapped in an abusive relationship who manages to escape and learn that they deserve more. Fits Hector to a T :)
And yet Hector can't fully escape from Dracula. He's still cursed. He's forced to re-learn Devil Forging, the art taught by him from Dracula. He still lost much of his childhood and youth in Dracula's castle. He has to unlearn everything he has learned about being a weapon.
Hector is Dracula's specialest little boy and I love all the hints of how he was favored <3 because he was talented? Because he was cold and efficient like Dracula strives to be? Because he doesn't beg for love like Isaac does? Because he kinda looks like him? You decide. Point is, the mentor/protégé dynamic is very <3
But no, really, Dracula being possessive and overprotective of his precious Hector makes me swoon <3 it's both creepy and lowkey cute <3 he'd gouge the eyes of anyone who deludes themselves to be worthy of looking at Hector's splendor <3 only he can <3 because he deserves the best <3
I love to imagine that Dracula feels ownership towards Hector because he infused him with his own magic. Yes, same goes for Isaac, but... well, he's just not as good at using it :) Hector always makes Dracula proud <3 he's his very precious perfect weapon <3
Hector would care about his Lord. Dracula cherishes him like no one else does... like no one else would, because Hector only knew hatred before running to Dracula, and he welcomed him, and Hector is so grateful to his Lord and would obey him with pride <3 ... up to a certain point.
The symbolism of blood sucking meaning giving away your life, whether you want it or not. Hector threw his life away for Dracula because he needed it, or so he would feel. That's what my idea of Hector having bite scars all over his throat symbolizes. That, and a metaphorical collar he can't get rid of.
Dracula doesn't need any magical tricks to keep Hector on a leash, unlike someone else we know :) He knows his boy well enough to know what to say to him to keep him in line :) I like to think it as psychological warfare, Dracula expertly manipulating Hector, his feelings and what he craves to keep him nice and obedient vs. Hector's unbendable moral code and budding sense of pride (that I imagine that Dracula himself caused by spoiling him too much lol)
In short, I love that there is the potential for two "main" narratives. The one where Hector is groomed from youth to be as perfect and pliable as Dracula wants him to be, and while at first he naively trusts his Lord because he has zero world experience and just wants to be loved, he slowly but surely takes a stand and confirms his worth as a human being. Or the one where there are mutual, genuine feelings between the two - the relationship can never be truly healthy due to the massive power imbalance (which is a big 🥰 for me), but maybe, before Dracula went completely insane, there was a window of time where the two were fond of each other, Hector of his Lord who is always so kind to him, and treasures him, and gave him a reason to live, and Dracula of his strong knight who does his will and is so intelligent and devoted and whose valor may remind him of Leon.
Size difference :P Hector is very pickable in CoD, he gets picked up by normal enemies like the Red Ogre and the Harpies and also by Isaac (which is pretty chad ngl), but ofc, he looks especially small when Drac sips from him :)
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I will spam my screenshots until people understand my Vision 😤
There was no need to do this, Drac. No need at all. You just missed you boy. Understandable, but really. yes this does things to my brain
and remember guys: Hecula canon <3
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faerunsbest · 2 months
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Get to know your Tav
tagged by @rolansrighthorn and tagging @dutifullylazybread (i need more people in my page here man come out lets be nonsensiscal together!)
This post is dedicated to my latest brainrotting tav Dwylla (referncing that old story Dwylla of the four sorrows), she doesn't count her age but would be approx 31 ish. Shes a tiefling with an unknown ancestor (referencing the teifling wiki"The term "tiefling" was first applied to all humans whose ancestry included any evil extraplanar being of the Lower Planes, such as a demon, devil, evil deity or other unknown entity.")
What is their:
Favorite weapon? she does prize any particular weapon since tends to just use what she has around
Style of combat? shes a gladiator so shes switches between barbarian and monk
Most prized possession? a broken steel collar
Deepest desire? a freedom that can never be taken from her
Guilty pleasure? how badly she wants to be protected for once
Best-kept secret? why she hates the tower
Greatest strength?he ability to adapt to situations, observational skill
Fatal flaw?she panics in small rooms, she will eat the goddamn walls to get out
Favorite scent? wet grass, mud, campfires. these things make her feel free
Favorite spell/cantrip? misty step
Pet peeve? being touched without permission, rolan gets away with it though. he always has and it never occurred to him that this was unique at all until he watching someone get body slammed for putting a hand on her shoulder. it may have taken awhile but lae'zel and Astarion also have the 'right' to touch as they see fit since they have never done this without purpose.
Bad habit? she has a staring problem.
Hidden talent? sculpture and construction. she has a very intense focus and twitchy hands so sometimes when she finds clay in the soil there will be little idols all over. Astarion almost cried when she showed him a sculpting of his face. the way she saw him. she touches clay and other malleable items as if she was blind, just feeling her way through and they come out with moderately high accuracy.
Leisure activity? gardening, swimming and sleeping, she feels like shes unreasonably heavy so she likes floating around in ponds and rivers
Favorite drink? anything sweet, she lives sweet drinks so a good sweet mead will leave her konked out since she drinks for taste not purpose
Comfort food?pot roast and baked potatoes! she also like when theregrilled vegetables
Favorite person(s)? Rolan, lae'zel, astarion. Dwylla laezel and astarion talk to each other so much, passing information mid battle that they have virtually developed their own language that's just for them.
Favored display of affection?physical touch, words of affirmation and gifts. she will never admit any of it. she just wont hit you. her big tail kinda does whatever when shes relaxed, so you can tell if she likes you by where it curls on down days. usually it stays high up behind lae'zel or Astarion, because she wants to guard them, with rolan it tends to lay low and curl around wherever he is, standing or sitting. he pretends not to notice.
Fondest childhood memory? the day she figured out her teeth where strong enough to break brick, she attempted her first escape and felt grass underfoot. what a beautiful thing to have whipped away
Anything else you’d like to share?she doesn't actually have any tattoos and her teeth aren't actually black, she wears make up and uses a mouth guard it scares people// she also added unnecessary stress to the joints of armor so it creaks when she moves a certain way. she knows certain sounds trigger the fight or flight response and the more people run the less she has to kill and they up her rep talking about scary she is.
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You said send requests so here’s one! I was thinking a Midoriya x he/him male reader. The prompt being is always a little cinnamon role but the second someone starts messing with Midoriya, they become the literal devil to defend their honor. And Midoriya just finds that hot. If that’s alright with you!
midoriya and the duality of his man
pairing: izuku midoriya x male!reader (he/him)
genre: fluff, MIDORIYA BRAINROT-
warnings: bullying towards reader/izuku, threats of violence (from reader), strong language (ish), season 3 spoilers
author's notes: I SCREAMED WHEN I READ THE REQUEST YESYESYES IZUKU W SCARY SUNSHINE BF HEHEHEHE IM WATCHING EP103 RN SO AHHH THIS WAS PERFECT TIMING
you're class 2-a at this point and yes, i know that canonically neito doesn't see aizawa vs dabi clone, but... this is an au kinda...sorta...so...IM SORRY-
ALSO i made the reader's quirk a mutation quirk of sorts; basic premise is that once eye contact is made, reader takes on the physical form of who their opponent fears the most (for ex, for Dabi, reader could morph into Endeavor and even take on his quirk, but the reader can only do with it what their opponent can recall in specific detail. it only lasts while the opponent is within a certain distance, or the details get "fuzzy" and start to wear off)
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he. absolutely. fucking adores you. when izuku midoriya says "i love..", you better listen closely; he's being nice enough to give you the list of who you don't mess with.
but a lot of people seem to not catch onto that. they still won't catch on, either, but it's not that they don't learn; you don't let your boyfriend teach them.
see, he'd yell at them, attack their very s o u l. he's clearly very protective, and he'll do anything to keep you safe from anyone, emotionally and physically, from a worldwide-wanted villain to a petty school villain. but you wouldn't let him.
no, you - his absolutely ray of pure sunshine - refuse to let him get into fights for you. you insist on forgiving, forgetting, and moving on, and if it weren't for the bright smile you give right before hugging his arm, he would've insisted that it's impossible for him to do that.
but for you? nothing is impossible to do if it's for you.
so yes, izuku midoriya loves his sunshine boyfriend. he loves how bright his smile is, how tight his hugs are, how much fight he has on the battlefield, etc. etc.
but most of all he loves his heart. how could someone be so... sweet? so kind and gracious and loving.
(side note, Love Like You is the song for this relationship, hands down, i'm not taking rebuttals)
he loves you. so much. and because of how much he loves you, he assumes he knows most things about you; your favorite color, dessert, dinner, breakfast, snack, candy, handwriting, your little quirks - hell, the dude even knew all the things you disliked, down to the tiniest details.
so it comes as a huge surprise when one day he just sees this side of his sunshine boy that doesn't match up with everything else.
OKAY OKAY SO
he's seen you use your quirk. he knows how terrifying it can be, but he also knows that you don't necessarily enjoy having it. it's caused you a lot of pain, actually. for example, you used it on katsuki, and morphed into... katsuki. it fucked with his head for a long time, but it messed with yours, too...
but because of all of this, he's never seen you use it personally. it's only in battle.
except one day, some BITCH named monoma decides to be a bITCH- test your patience.
all you're trying to do is walk to class with your boyfriend, hands lightly swinging together. you're wearing your tie the way he does and he's wearing his properly for the first time, courtesy of you tying his and him tying yours.
it's early, and you hadn't really gotten much beauty rest the night before (which you owe to the great beautiful trauma™ from your quirk). izuku, too, is pretty sleepy since he snuck to your room after you texted him a jumbled mess of apologies for a nightmare you thought had actually occured irl. and all of this adds up to: monoma being extra annoying.
"ah, 'snap, crackle, pop' and the next boogie man." his voice is just scraping your eardrums, but you don't say anything about it. there's no use in giving into his teasing.
"good morning, monoma. i hope you've had a good morning." such grace, and your smile is so bright that if he wasn't a narcissistic abuser 🤬 sorry ive been all in on the gabbie hanna drama, this is a reference to her use of it, not actual narcissistic abuse, it...sUcks LMAO jerk, he would've stopped. but he is a jerk. so.
"i was, but then i was reminded of you and your class." izuku insists on continuing to walk, and you don't fight. but then- "to be honest, though, it does strike up another question for me." just keep walking... "one about you, midoriya."
that seems to strike something in you, though normally you would just walk a little faster. you pause and your muscles go all tense. still, you don't verbally respond.
"[Name]...?" midoriya notices your sudden shift in mood and his worry immediately starts building up. he barely even listens to monoma, his true attention all on you.
"is...his downfall on dear bakugou's shoulders alone?" your heart starts beating hard and your body feels cold all over. "or..." you manage to start refocusing when your boyfriend squeezes your hand. monoma has stopped walking, his voice a bit more distant. "if you'd been just a bit faster, a lot... better, do you think allmight would still be... well, allmight?"
that, you can tell, hits izuku like a truck. he stutters over his steps and chokes on his breath.
the insult, the hurt and shock in your boyfriend's eyes, the eyes you're used to looking up to that shine with fire, determination, they're... hurting.
you don't even know where it comes from, but you break your hand away as you whip around to face him.
"listen here." you don't notice your body shifting, don't realize that you teo have made eye contact and you're using your quirk without thinking. "you're going to stop talking... turn around... and leave us the fuck alone."
terror. and even thought he knows how your quirk works, he can't look away. he can't move. and he can't respond.
"did i stutter?" now his legs worked, and he uses them to stumble away. the other students in the hall couldn't seem to. their feet are rooted in the ground and they stay silent, and you have to look in a window reflective enough to see that you're dabi, melting. you hadn't been using his voice, though, apparently, likely because neito had seen this happen from inside and didn't hear him.
once realizing what you were doing, you force yourself back to your own physical form. your heart rate is starting to calm down, but you're sti red in the face with anger, so you stubbornly march back to your boyfriend's side and hug his arm.
"i-i'm sorry for that," you manage to mutter as your anger turns into both embarrassment and guilt. did he think you were a bully? just ad bad as monoma? did he think you were-?
"d-don't apolog-apologize." thinking it's fear, you look up at him hoping to read his face. much to your surprise, he's red, flustered.
"...'zuku?"
"y-yeah?"
"are you...blushing?"
"a-ah - i'm sorry, i've just never seen that side of you and it caught me off guard, but-but not in a bad way and-!!"
"no-no! izu, it's okay, don't be sorry, i'm sorry if it was overkill-!"
and you two fumble right outside your classroom, apologizing back and forth repeatedly until he blurts it out.
"i thought the way you stood up for me was-was hot!" and that has you both red in the face, not quite sure what to say next.
"...it didn't scare you?"
"i-i mean it... it looked like him, but it was you and your voice and your... it- i-" you sort of lean forward, hiding your face in his chest as the bell rings and successfully pulling him into a hug.
"i love you, 'zuku." he relaxes, hugs back, but the red wont go away.
"i-i love you, too..."
"mIDORIYA HAS THE HOTS FOR [NAME]-!"
"SHUT UP, PINKY-!"
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