Tumgik
#but i can feel it..he looks soft and nice but why does he give a rapper vibe ajsgajsg
sweetestdesire · 1 day
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STUBBORN PRIDE
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WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.
PAIRING(S): Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader
SUMMARY: in which Jack Hughes is too stubborn to let Fem!Reader peacefully sleep on the couch.
Jack Hughes was difficult to have arguments with. He was stubborn and never seemed to take things seriously and he never really listened to a word anyone said. Everything always went in one ear and out the other. Like when Y/N told him she’d be on the couch for the night so she could have space, for example. It seemed space was not a word in Jack’s dictionary, because he strolled into the living room with his hands in his pockets and his lips whistling a soft tune.
Y/N glared at him from her spot on the couch, watching as he stopped a few feet before her. There was a smooth grin on his face, almost like he had plastered it on for appearance’s sake, like it masked the true nature of his feelings as he hid them with that usual unbothered smile of his.
“Is there room for one more?”
“No.” Y/N said bluntly, promptly turning away to face her back to him. She didn’t have to look back to know his face was curled into that pout of his, the dangerous one that did too good of a job of convincing her to give him his way.
“Okay, fine.” Jack huffed, and then she heard the soft thud of his body settling on the floor, making her itch to turn and peek over the edge of the couch.
Y/N succeeded at ignoring for him for approximately thirty seconds before the curiosity got the better of her and she swallowed her pride and took a quick look. sure enough, he laid curled on the hardwood floor, limbs awkwardly sprawled as he stared up at her with innocent eyes.
"What are you doing?" Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, and he stared at her like she’d asked a silly question, and maybe she had. Being hard to get rid of had always been Jack’s specialty, and she should’ve known better by now that retiring to the couch was never enough to retire from him.
"I’m going to sleep. What does it look like I’m doing?" Jack said like it was obvious. She almost smacked him with her pillow for his tone, but she had half a mind not to. It was the perfect opportunity for him to steal it, and it wasn’t her problem he forgot the single most important thing when it came to sleeping.
"Well, why here?" Y/N scowled, making him shrug as he settled his hands behind his head and looked up to the ceiling.
"Seems like a good spot to sleep if you ask me.” He said casually. “Nice hard floor to cushion my back, cool breeze of the air conditioning to keep me cold, and the clock ticking in my ear to keep me up. Sounds like the perfect place, eh? And if I get bored, we even have a TV.”
"I let you have the bed, you idiot.” She pursed her lips.
"Who needs a bed when I can sleep on the hardwood floor next to my sweet, pretty girl?”
Y/N cut him off before he could finish, feeling the last possible vein she could preserve while dating a man like Jack Hughes pop. "Well, then I’m going to use the bed if you won’t.” She sat up, grabbing her pillow and blanket.
And because he’s Jack Hughes, the bane of her existence and the sole cause of all her headaches, he sat up, too. "Good idea, baby. Let’s go.”
"No. You stay here, and I’ll take the bed."
"Okay.” Jack hummed, still not making any moves to lay back down.
Y/N quickly realized this wasn’t a battle she could easily win with him and she rolled her eyes, shoulders slumping in defeat as she glared down at him. Jack looked up at her with that same innocent look, those same wide eyes that blinked up at her like they couldn't possibly do any wrong.
"You do realize I’m not sharing the bed with you just because you're stubborn, right?" Y/N asked dryly.
Jack grinned, that familiar glint in his eyes that always meant trouble. “Well, I never said anything about taking the bed, now did I?”
"Jack, you can't possibly mean sleeping on the floor next to the bed.”
"It’s technically not the bed.” He insisted. “All you said is you're not sleeping with me. You never said anything about near me."
"Okay, I don't want to sleep near you.” She scowled.
"Nuh-uh, no way.” He shook his head. “You can't add rules now. It’s far too late."
"Jack, I swear to fucking God.”
"So, what'll it be? Bed or couch?"
"I hate you.” Y/N grumbled, settling back down on the cushions of their living room couch, back once more facing him. She could hear his body softly settle back onto the floor again, and after a few beats of silence, he spoke up again.
"Can I use your blanket? I’m cold."
"No."
"C’mon, just toss half of it over the edge, I’ll scoot over. We can make it work somehow.”
"Are you intentionally trying to piss me off?" Y/N snapped as she sat up, glaring down at him once more.
Jack Hughes was difficult to have arguments with. He was stubborn and annoying and so stupidly handsome. He made her eyes soften before she could help it as they grazed over his messy hair and the soft glow of his lip balm. He made her anger ebb away slowly no matter how hard she tried to latch onto it just from that toothy grin of his. He made her forget they were arguing and that she should be mad when she noticed the soft, gentle traces of love in his eyes.
So, Y/N blinked as she watched him, letting out a quiet sigh as he shook his head and offered her a small, innocent smile, one that told her he loved her, that he wasn’t mad, and that he'd wait on the cold, hard floor with no pillow and blanket for her as long as he needed to.
"No.” Jack chuckled. “No, I’d never want to make you mad. You’re scary when you get mad.”
"That’s rich, coming from someone who’s supposed to be a big, strong hockey player.” Y/N muttered, making him laugh softly. And she wasn’t mad anymore, not as much as she was just a bit ago. Maybe it was because she loved him too, even despite the way he made her veins pop, and her patience thin, and her head ache with that aggravating personality of his. Maybe that's what love was, when even the bad and the ugly were part of the good.
"Behind every strong man is an even stronger woman.” He cheekily remarked, his grin never fading.
"Just come here.” Y/N groaned, scooting over to make room for him on the couch.
Jack didn’t need to be told twice. He didn’t even waste a single moment as if he'd been expecting it all this time as he climbed in beside her and pulled her into his chest. It was cramped and slightly uncomfortable as her legs dangled over the edge and her pillow barely fit under both of their heads, but his body was warm and his arms held her tight and she could faintly make out the thrum of his heart against her body. Maybe it wasn’t so bad, not if it was with Jack.
"Did you miss me too much?" Jack wriggled his eyebrows, pouting when she shoved his face away as he leaned in for a kiss.
"You still haven't earned kisses back yet.” Y/N grinned. “Goodnight, Jack."
"But I can't sleep without a goodnight kiss.” Jack pouted, softly nudging her with his shoulder.
"I love you.” Y/N cut him off with a giggle. Jack Hughes was difficult to have arguments with, but she thought that she won this time.
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rreids · 1 day
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hey, i was wondering if you'd be able to write smth with Spencer in a relationship with someone with bpd? it's totally okay if you're not comfy with that, but I've just been suspecting i may have it, and ppl with bpd are always portrayed so negatively in relationships. it would be just rly nice to read ur take on how Spencer would handle that and just see some positive representation! (my mental health has also been shit so it would be p comforting lol) thank u 🫶
hi love 🫶 i don't know a ton about bpd, so i hope i did this justice! i researched the diagnosis and how healthy relationships help with regulation and in what ways they do (both accounts from experts and from those who are diagnosed). and i hope you feel better soon <3 it sucks when your mind fights against you.
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PROMISES • S. REID X READER
reader has bpd (written by an author without, ideally will be comforting rather than hurtful. please let me know if it is offensive in any way); gn!reader; spencer has to break a small promise but makes others; talks of therapy; teasing; fluff; ~500 words
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“Hey, sweetheart,” Spencer whispers into the phone, voice a little strained. “I’m really, really sorry, but I can’t make lunch today. We’re on the way to a case in Omaha. It’s a really bad one.”
Your heart sinks. “Oh.”
“You know I want to be there more than anything, right?” He’s shuffling papers in the background, and you know they’re in the middle of getting ready on the jet and that he’s still making time for you, but it still makes your mind race with worry and upset. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week. And I promise I’ll take you out as soon as we’re back.”
You frown, fiddling with the promise ring on your finger. “Will you still talk to me?”
Spencer chuckles. “I think I go insane when I go too long without hearing your voice. As long as you don’t mind calls when it’s two a.m. there, I’m calling before bed every night I have enough time.”
You sigh.
“I know, honey. When’s your next meeting with your therapist?”
“Tomorrow,” you mumble, gnawing on your lip.
“Well, you have permission to talk about how much I suck,” Spencer teases lightly. “As long as you know it’s not by choice that I’m being a bad boyfriend.”
“You’re not a bad boyfriend.”
“Yeah?” You can hear the smile in his voice.
“You’re the best boyfriend. You understand me.” He does. He’s looked into BPD extensively — he knows even more than you do, rattling off statistics, assumed causes and connections, coping methods, everything. He knows how to break you out of the spirals and to calm your impulsivities.
“You have other boyfriends?” Spencer sighs dramatically, and you laugh.
“Why would I have them? You’re more than enough.”
Spencer hums. “I am, aren’t I?” 
You groan.
“I’m messing with you,” his voice is fond and soft. “I gotta hang up, everyone’s coming and we need all our focus on this case. Message me if you need anything. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t.”
“You don’t do anything,” you know you’re exaggerating, but it’s hard to stop the words.
“I do, just nothing out of our normal,” he’s nudging you gently, reminding you to think things through before acting impulsively. “I give you permission to watch our show without me if it’ll keep you entertained.”
You laugh. “Okay, okay. Fine. I’ll be good,” you draw it out.
Spencer snorts. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Spence.”
A beat.
“I’m not actually going to talk shit about you to my therapist, just so you know. I do talk about you though.”
And then you hang up. 
He sends you a ‘???’ and a ‘I wanted to say something still.’ right after. When you tell him to say it, he sends a ‘Do what you need to feel regulated. I don’t take it to heart, you know I don’t.’
And he doesn’t. He’s so sweet, so achingly perfect, understanding of when your moods swing, or when you feel empty, or whenever anything changes and you can’t tell why. 
And he always helps you down, kissing scars and tears and whispering praise as he gets you to feel right again.
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xxshadowbabexx · 9 hours
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Pretty ‘N Pink
summary: putting pink bows on the guys dicks (and farah’s strap), feat: price, ghost, gaz, soap, alejandro, rodolfo, graves, farah
warnings: blowjobs, handjobs, smut, fluffish, marking, gn!reader (but they wear lipstick)
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Price is a bit confused when you ask. He isn’t on any social medias, and so is unaware that putting bows on things is a trend. Still, he lets you do it. 
You’re sitting in his at-home office, he’s perched in his chair, manspreading proudly as you kneel in front of him. He watches you intently as you unbuckle his trousers, pulling his cock from its confinements. You spit on your palm before you take it in your hand, feeling the warmth coming off of it. You give him a harsh tug, then two until he starts to chub. You smile before moving your head to lick a stripe along his cock, following the green bulging vein that decorated the side. 
You hear him groan out above you, clearly ready for you to continue. 
Satisfied with his cock standing tall and proud, you move to grab the ribbon. You wrap it around his cock once, adoring how the color matched his flushed member. You looped the ribbon through, creating a bow. You picked up the scissors and snipped the ribbon. 
You leaned back on your heels, supporting yourself with your arms which were extended behind you. 
You beamed at his cock for a moment before John spoke, “Satisfied, doll?”
You nodded, “Very.”
He smirked, “Good, now why dontcha finish what you started and put those pretty lips around me again,”
Ghost was highly amused with you, and always willing to entertain your silly little ideas. He was sitting on the edge of your shared bed, thighs spread with you sloppily kissing up and down his cock. He loved the feel of your soft lips on his shaft, and loved the lipstick marks you left on it. Not only were they pretty, but they were also you. Maybe Simon has a slight possessive streak, but it goes both ways. 
He likes how you mark him up.  
“Tha’s it, lovie, get me nice an’ hard for you,” he praised, grinning down at you as his cock slowly hardened fully. You planted one last kiss to the tip before moving to grab your supplies. 
You wrapped the bright pink bow around the middle of his cock, admiring how it contrasted to the grayish pale color of his cock and ice blue vein. 
“You’re so pretty, Si,” 
“Yeah the bow does look good, doesn’t it? It would look better with a few more of your lipstick smudges, dontcha think?”
And who were you to deny him?
You moved to kiss on his thighs, massaging the scarred flesh between your fingers. He let out a hum in appreciation, and you moved towards his bollocks. 
You kissed them too, not minding the blond hair that decorated them. It was sparse, after all. Just another piece of him for your lipstick to stick to. 
Gaz was willing to try most things once for you. So when you asked to put a bow around his cock, who was he to say no? He’s certainly tried weirder things with you before. 
Pegging, rimming, sounding, all things tried. But he’s also tried different non-sexual things with you that were new to him, like doing each others makeup, finding the weirdest recipes on line and forcing each other to try them, among hundreds of other things. 
“So, can I?” you asked cheerfully, beaming at him and drawing him free from his thoughts. 
“Of course,”
“Yay! Do you mind jerking yourself off while I go get the ribbon? That way you’ll be nice and hard by the time I get back,”
“Sure,” he nodded. Of course he would do it for you. Anything for you. 
So now here he was, sitting on your worn couch, palming his cock to the thought of you. Would you suck him off with the bow on? Would you let him fuck you with the bow on?
He smiled at you when you walked inside, almost dropping the ribbon in your hands at the beautiful sight that was him. 
You rushed over, kneeling between his muscular thighs, stringing the ribbon and wrapping it around the cut head of his cock. 
You giggled, leaning back, “It looks so pretty, baby,”
“Yeah? Pretty enough for me to fuck you like this?”
Soap was smirking at you, and you just knew he had a bad idea. Then again, when didn’t he? Bad ideas were kind of his thing. When he wasn’t being a genius in the military. 
“So, bonnie, I found myself having a wee idea,” Oh no, “What if ye tied a bow ‘round m’ cock?” He had to be joking.  You glared at him, raising your brows with a scoff. 
“Nae bonnie, donnae give me tha’ look. I just know ye will be slobberin’ all o’er it once it’s finished,”
Unfortunately for you, he was right. As you sat on your knees between his thighs you felt arousal building within you. His thick, weeping cock looked heavenly in general, and somehow even better with the silly little bow wrapped around the girthy base. 
You ran the pad of your thumb along the underside, scooping up precum and sucking it off, earning a hiss from him. His taste was sweet and salty, and while realistically you knew the bow didn’t change his semen, you couldn’t help but think-
“Think the bow makes you taste better,” you smirked. 
“Tha’ so? Ye saying I’m not always bloody delightful to have in yer mouth?” he countered, not accepting your backhanded compliment in the slightest. 
You shook your head, “Fucking nasty, Johnny,” you grinned as you finally took him into your mouth. 
He moaned instantly, bucking his hips shamelessly into your mouth, “C’mon bonnie, bloody hell. Jus’ like tha’,”
Alejandro never thought that he would allow someone to do this to him. Never in a million years. But then again, he never thought he’d meet anyone quite like you.  
You who wormed your way into his heart, made it flutter with something beautiful and new. You who made him fight harder to stay alive just so he could see you again. You with your puppy dog eyes as you asked to put a bow around his cock. 
“Anything for you, cariño,”
The giddy look on your face made it worth it. Smiling up at him as you stroked his cock gently, almost teasing him. 
You leaned down to cover the head in kitten licks, maintaining eye contact with him. You moved to slowly drag your tongue along the underside of his cock, something which had him fisting the sheets he sat upon. 
“So pretty for me,” he whispered, grazing your cheek with a calloused thumb. You smiled under his praise, one hand still stroking the base. 
“I think you’re ready,” you grinned, grabbing the ribbon. 
You fastened it around the thickest part of his member- the base. You cut the ribbon with the scissors you had set nearby and then admired your work. 
“It looks pretty,” you mused to yourself. 
“Aye, it does. Almost as pretty as your face ‘round me, amore. Care to give papi a show?” 
Rodolfo always knew that once he fell in love he would let his partner do anything to him. Whether it be painting his nails or tying a bow around his cock. 
Today, the latter was happening. 
He was sat pretty in the middle of the couch, slacks down to his ankles and thighs spread. His hair was mussed from when you ran your hands through it while you were kissing- right before you asked him about the bow. 
Safe to say he looked mind-blowingly beautiful. 
Your hand was firm around his firm cock, spreading a delicious mix of precum and spit along his shaft, from the cherry red tip to the mahogany brown base. His hands were digging into the couch as you held eye contact with him, leaning down to kiss his tip. 
Teasingly, you removed your hand from his cock, eliciting a groan from him as you licked your hand clean. The concoction was sweet on your tongue. His pearly cum was always saccharine, overpowering the taste of anything else. 
“Ready baby?” you asked and he nodded. 
“Please, amor,”
You smiled, grabbing the ribbon and fastening it around the red and swollen tip of his cock. Precum oozed over the ribbon in greedy amounts, making your mouth water. You needed another taste of him more than you needed to breathe, and you knew he’d always let you. 
“Fuck, Rudy-“ you moaned, “-gonna make such a mess of you,”
Graves, ever a smug bastard, had a cheeky response to your little question. 
“Sure can, sweets, but it’s gonna take a whole lotta ribbon to fit ‘round my cock.”
Worst part was that he was right. 
You had Phillip bare and spread on your shared bed as you kneeled between his thighs. His muscular, strong thighs that you loved to lay on and ride. Although that’s not what you were doing now. 
Instead, one hand circled his thick cock, stroking it up and down greedily. Your other hand massaged his full balls as you watched his face for any minor or minuscule reaction. 
The average person could see he was enjoying himself, but not how you could. You saw the glint in his eyes that meant he didn’t want you to stop- even when he knew you were going to. You also saw how his hands clenched and unclenched slightly at his sides, a subtle thing he does when he wants your mouth. You’re not even sure if he’s aware he does it. 
You grinned, “Let me put on the bow first, then I’ll suck you off,”
“Promise?”
You laughed, stopping your ministrations to pick up the ribbon from next to you. The ribbon wrapped around his girth beautifully. 
The sight was so pretty, you just had your lean down and give his tip a little kiss. 
“Nuh-uh, sweetheart. You promised to use more of your pretty mouth than tha’.”
Farah wasn’t sure if she’d seen anything prettier than you kneeling between her thighs, kissing and kneading them. You kissed every inch of skin where the harness of her lime green strap dug into her flesh. 
You loved her muscular thighs and how they tensed when you bit them, only to relax when you dragged your  sharp nails over the skin. 
You looked up at Farah through long lashes, “Wanna taste you,” you whimpered. You hungered for her sweet cunt, wanted to eat her out and make her cum over and over again before she fucked you on her strap. 
“Yeah? I thought you wanted to put a bow on my first?” she smirked. 
That got your attention, you had completely forgot why you were in this position to begin with. 
You grabbed the ribbon, tying it prettily around Farah’s strap. The pink and green complemented her skin tone wonderfully, and made your mouth water. You whimpered at the sight before taking the tip in your mouth. 
“That’s it, good baby,” she praised, sending a heat to your cheeks. 
“Always such a good little slut for me,” you moaned around her cock at the filthy words. You moaned because she was oh so right. 
You grabbed a handful of her hips and used the leverage to pull yourself down on her cock. 
Your eyes watered as you took the silicone cock as far down your throat as you could. You choked but didn’t stop, couldn’t. You needed to be good for her. 
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taglist
@theloneshadow24 @frogtowne @ladyxtiger @whitetiger846 and @v1x3n bc its graves content
© xxshadowbabexx 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.
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astonmartinii · 28 days
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it must be a sign | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem deaf! red bull engineer!reader
when the two most unbothered people in the paddock combine their joint powers to be the it couple
request sent by the lovely @bibissparkles xx
author's note: heyyy so many of you won't know but i am actually deaf - i am 50% deaf in both ears and wear hearing aids so i love requests like this! (all i do most of this stuff as a deaf person, turning off your hearing aids >)
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 302,446 others
yourusername: you can't complain about the dutch national anthem when you can just turn your hearing aids off
view all comments
user1: the way max's engineer is as sick of that damn song as us
user2: turning off her hearing aids makes how bored she looks during podiums make sense
yourusername: it was a banger during the mercedes dominance but would it kill someone to play the australian anthem
danielricciardo: i knew you missed me
yourusername: sure, jan.
user3: her and max signing slay to each other will always be so personal to me
maxverstappen1: gonna pretend you didn't just say that
yourusername: boo hoo babe, you gotta lose something sometimes
user4: babe? are the flowers from max?
maxverstappen1: would rather choke on my own spit and fall into a pit of snakes, hope this helps ❤️
yourusername: rude! i wouldn't want flowers from you either :(
user5: i swear we get into this argument every weekend, i think people will still assume they're together until their married to other people
liamlawson30: stop using me as a messenger pigeon please and thank you
yourusername: but i thought red bull gave you wings?
liamlawson30: do not use a pr answer against me 🤨
yourusername: no comment
liamlawson30: choke.
yourusername: idk what's going on in the red bull junior academy but spit in helmut's coffee not mine
user6: y/n consistently giving all the red bull guys shit is my favourite thing ever
user7: the amount of times the sky broadcast has caught her waving them off or taking her hearing aids out lol
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oscarpiastri
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liked by yourusername, landonorris and 782,309 others
oscarpiastri: switched four tyres for two this weekend
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user11: you can't distract us with your slutty bike pics WHO THE FUCK IS THAT
landonorris: A WOMAN? A WOMAN? IS THAT A WOMAN OSCAR JACK PIASTRI?
oscarpiastri: yeah i'm pretty sure
landonorris: don't play smart with me buster - why was i not informed?
oscarpiastri: i don't ask to be informed of every time you get rejected in the instagram dms
landonorris: FAKE NEWS
oscarpiastri: okay buddy
user12: i be seeing the sign language book, oscar you are so real for that
user13: that's my king, i need a oscar and y/n link up in the paddock - my unbothered queens
user14: she's in the likes !!!!!!
logansargent: oh we've entered the soft launch phase i see
oscarpiastri: and what?
logansargent: someone is feeling defensive this morning, dude i won't tell i've already kept it a secret for so long
landonorris: HE KNOWS? DOES BEING YOUR TEAMMATE MEAN NOTHING?
oscarpiastri: he's my childhood best friend?
logansargent: there's levels to this game norris
landonorris: @oscarpiastri consider yourself UNDER SURVEILLANCE
oscarpiastri: okay girly
user15: oscar has the patience of a saint, the mystery gal may want to rethink it before having to deal with them all
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 381,044 others
yourusername: unrelaxed, unbothered, moisturised ✨
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user18: queen SHIT THAT AIN'T SHIT
user19: but this mystery man IS
maxverstappen1: yeah sorry about that... but at least boyfy has made his instagram debut?
yourusername: about time, he's too sexy to gatekeep
maxverstappen1: well i'm not going to agree out of respect for you
yourusername: so you don't think he's sexy? i might not be able to hear but HE CAN MAX BE NICE
maxverstappen1: first of all it's a text, second of all i've been way too nice to him
yourusername: he beat you in padel fair and square you're just SHIT AT IT ❤️
maxverstappen1: you know that's a sore subject WHY WOULD YOU BRING IT UP
user20: my queen was really like you wanna tell me to fuck off? oh here's my sexy boyfriend
user21: jos verstappen really didn't know who he was tangling with that gal may be chill but she doesn't take shit
user22: she's like a female version of oscar lol
user23: i knew there was a reason i liked her
this comment was liked by yourusername
danielricciardo: why am i left out of everything these days?
yourusername: snooze you lose
danielricciardo: I AM AWAKE REPLY TO MY TEXTS
danielricciardo: I JUST SAW YOU PUT YOUR PHONE ON DO NOT DISTURB
yourusername: protecting my peace
danielricciardo: i'm on to you buster
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oscarpiastri
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,209,455 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: overjoyed to get my first (proper) win in formula one and even more overjoyed to have my amazing girlfriend (and even better engineer) up on the podium with me
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user27: so this was the special occasion?
user28: so this is why she said she wanted the australian national anthem over the dutch one?
user29: this is now my roman empire
yourusername: babe is so fucking good and i'm so fucking proud
oscarpiastri: i'm so glad to have been able to share this moment with you
yourusername: you deserve this and more, i love you
oscarpiastri: i love you too xx
user30: wait so oscar knows so much more sign language than i thought
user31: he looked so excited and even mark knows some
logansargent: he forced (we were happy to do so) me, mark and his family to learn as soon as he secured the date lol
oscarpiastri: and now we're all so cool because of it
logansargent: cool and able to chat shit without people knowing what we're saying
yourusername: best bit about it tbf (everyone please learn, it's a beautiful language)
landonorris: I KNEW IT
oscarpiastri: no you didn't
landonorris: no i didn't :( i'm hurt
oscarpiastri: if it's any consolation, we didn't tell many people, max and logan are exceptions
landonorris: WHY WAS I NOT AN EXCEPTION???
yourusername: boo hoo
landonorris: i'm not gonna say anything back to that you kinda scare me
yourusername: good ❤️
yourusername
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liked by fernandoalo_oficial, oscarpiastri and 529,778 others
tagged: maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri
yourusername: me and a racewinner (and our world champion third wheel)
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user32: fave trio in the paddock no competition
logansargent: logan erasure
yourusername: we love you logan, sunday roast at mine this weekend ❤️
logansargent: SCORE
user33: every time you post there's a new plushie
yourusername: we usually get one to commemorate a big weekend and we both got one for osc's first win
user34: that's so FUCKING CUTE
oscarpiastri: it's all fun and games until you don't fit in the bed because y/n feels too bad to put any of them on the floor
yourusername: they have FEELINGS OSCAR
oscarpiastri: she cried one time when max set off the smoke alarm cooking breakfast and the bed alarm shook so bad that all of them were thrown to the floor
yourusername: it was HARROWING but it also did wake me up so at least we know it works
maxverstappen1: actually my favourite couple to third wheel, but enjoy it while it's here osc, i won't lose again
yourusername: yeah sorry osc it's actually my job to help max win so you're gonna have to wait for him to retire if i have anything to do with it
oscarpiastri: not even for me :(
yourusername: sorry not sorry (i'm really sorry, i love you so much)
oscarpiastri: i love you too even if you won't sabotage max for my race :(
maxverstappen1: okay i know i said you guys are cute but that's enough for today
yourusername: we ARE cute thank you
oscarpiastri: the CUTEST
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fin.
note: heheheheh i hope you enjoyed this, i love requests like this xx also on the comment about the bed alarm i had one in uni halls and when the alarm went off that baby SHOOK it was kinda scary
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luveline · 6 months
Note
hellooo!! im not sure if your requests are open so feel free to ignore this but i was wondering if you could write for tasm!peter where the reader just got her wisdom teeth removed and she’s all loopy on anesthetics and forgets peter is her boyfriend? i saw this video where this girl got her wisdom teeth pulled and forgot she was dating her boyfriend and fell in love with him all over again😭😭
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZPR7sGQo5/
thank you for your request! ♡ fem, 1k
"Here she is," the nurse says gently, walking you out with his arm behind your back. "Alright, say hi to Peter." 
"Hi, Peter," you mumble, eyes on the floor. 
Peter grins at you, worry warm at the back of his throat. "Hey. Is that everything?" he asks, nodding at the nurses paper bag of aftercare. 
"Everything you'll need." The nurse helps Peter take over, hoisting your arm over his shoulders before stepping away. "Alright, feel better, okay? And don't hesitate to call if something comes up. We're here to look after you." 
You seem appreciative in your fog, but it's hard to tell. Peter curls his arm around your hip and gives it a soft rub as he leads you to the stairs. Whoever devised the floor plan here had murder on their mind —the second floor is completely inaccessible. Luckily, Peter has a lot of strength at his disposal. 
You can feel it. "Woh, you're strong," you murmur. 
"You know that already." His grip on you tightens, pretty much carrying you down the tight staircase. 
"Do I?" you ask. You make a sound like you're hurting, a squeak. 
"I'd hope so." At the end of the staircase, he sits you down, worried you're not feeling well. "You okay? I can princess carry you if you need me to." 
You look at him with wide eyes. He turns to check there's no one standing behind him, but you're really looking at him. "What?" he asks, touching your knee, imploring. "You look like you've seen a ghost." 
"You're Peter?" you ask. 
Ah, the amnesiac effect of anaesthetic. His touch turns comforting, stroking your thigh with as much care as he can drive into his palm alone. "That's me. Hey, if you're forgetting me, does that mean you're not mad at me for last Friday anymore? 'Cos I know you said you forgive me but I can tell it still pisses you off–" 
Your eyes fall to his hand. "Why would I be mad at you?" you ask. 
"I finished the milk and put the carton back in the fridge, even though I promised I'd stop doing it. You see the jug and think there's milk left. We were gonna have macaroni and cheese..." He nudges your fingers with his. "Are you okay? You don't look like yourself."
"What do I usually look like?" 
"Not so, you know. Daunted." 
"You're really handsome," you whisper, refusing to meet his eye. 
"Oh, you think so?" 
You nod like your head is too heavy. You're embarrassed, you sweetheart, oh my god Peter could cry into your lap. 
"Let's get you to the car, baby." 
"Where are we going?" The gauze gives you the world's most adorable lisp, and it turns your gasp into a hum as Peter stands you up. 
"Home." 
"Together?" 
"Yeah, we live together. It's a nice place, and you're a great decorator, you know? It's cozy." 
"Thank you," you say shyly. 
You're not not shy with him, but it's been a long time since you got so quiet over a practically innocuous comment. He wants to see how you'll react to real compliments, over the top stuff that he one hundred percent means. It's a little mean, but when will you ever be like this again? 
He helps you out past the desk and onto the street to your car where it's parked a half a block down. "Don't worry about all this, okay? I'm gonna take such good care of you, sweetheart. There's an ice pack and a brand new comforter with your name on it waiting at home." Peter smiles at your starry eyes as they flash to his, amazed at his simple plans. "How does that sound, beautiful? Is there anything you want before we head home? Anything that would make you feel better?" 
"You're gonna take care of me?" you ask breathlessly. 
"That's my job. That's my number one boyfriend duty." 
"You're my boyfriend?" 
"I am!" he says happily, laughing as he speaks. "For a while. I've been trying to take things further but you're always really shy about getting married–" 
"You want to get married? To me?" 
Peter presses a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the only person I'd ever want to get married to. We already picked the flowers–" 
"We did?" 
He laughs again, all your questions. He loves regular you but loopy you is especially endearing. "Last time I got super drunk, yeah. You never let me forget it." 
"So you love me?" you ask, stopping short.
"I love you so much," he says immediately, hugging you into his side. He dots another kiss against the top of your head. "You should remember that even if you don't remember me." 
"I love you," you say quietly. 
Peter doesn't know if that's your memory returning, or if you've fallen in love with him in the last fifteen minutes. He could easily fall in love with you that quickly, and yet he's still amazed at your confession. 
"That's good. That's great. Thank you, sweetheart," he says, desperate to hold your face in his hands but weary of causing you future pain. "There's your car," —he points, lowering his head to yours to make sure you can see it, hand now protectively held between your shoulder blades— "let's go home now. Yeah?" 
You start walking again at his requests. He can pretty much see the steam rising off of your face, giddy with happiness at these revelations. You're together, you're in love, and you think he's handsome. He wonders what you'll have to say about his biceps in this state of delirium; you go crazy for his arms sober. 
Which reminds him. 
"I totally have another secret to tell you," he says, unlocking the car as you approach and helping you into the passenger seat. 
"What is it?" you ask. 
Peter closes you in and skirts around the door, climbing into the driver's seat. He's glad that New York is as ridiculously loud as ever, because not even the closed doors or your sodden gauze can smother the way you shriek.
"My boyfriend is Spider-Man?!" 
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Yuu is Loopy and Doesn't Recognize Them
Based of this meme I saw and I couldn't get it out of my head
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GN. Yuu isn’t drunk but is loopy on potions/meds. A bit Suggestive??? Leona calls you Scavenger/Pillow Enjoy
Riddle 
Riddle swore that when he sees Ace again, it will be off with his head. The brain dead idiot is responsible for landing you in the nurse's office. Thankfully, according to Professor Crewel, you will be okay and were ready to go back to Ramshackle. 
Being the responsible boyfriend he is, he made sure to take your arm and guide you through the mirror to Ramshackle and into the creaky dorm. You were obviously still a bit out of it as you stumbled through the hall and didn’t appear to hear anything he said. As he approached the stairs, wondering how he would get you into your room did you speak.
“Where are we going?” You slurred rubbing your temples with your fingers. “To your room,” Riddle answered. “Rose, can you hear me now?” Riddle asked, voice tinged with worry. “Why are we going…” you paused trying to formulate words, “…to some room?” Riddle raised a brow and spoke slowly, relaxing his grip on your arm as he did so. “You need to get some rest, don’t worry I’ll make sure you sleep well, okay?"
To his confusion, you suddenly pulled away from him and stumbled back a little. “Ah, Rose what are you—“ “Sorry you seem really nice and all but I have a boyfriend.” “Huh?!” Stumbling backward away from Riddle you practically fell onto the couch behind you. “Sorry I’m not gonna sleep with anyone, I have a boyfriend…” You slurred again, making Riddle stiffen before going pink and letting out a chuckle. 
“Rose, I am your—“ “Goodnight” You whispered before promptly passing out on the couch. Riddle just stood there for a moment stupified, before softly chuckling to himself. You really did love him, huh?
Leona
“What's wrong with you?” Leona asked upon seeing Ruggie drag his seemingly blitzed-out partner behind them into his room. “I dunno what happened but Professor Crewel said to let them rest,” Ruggie responded. “So you brought them to me?” Ruggie’s face fell, he knew damn well if he were the one to take you home that Leona would have complained. “Well, they’re your problem now shishishi! Good luck”
Letting out a yawn, Leona looked over to where you stood wobbling. “Come here, Pillow.” The lion leaned up and pulled you toward the bed. You weakly tried to pull your hand away. “Eh? What gives?” Leona’s ears twitch as you stumble back. “My boyfriend will get upset if he sees you holding my hand. “Oh yeah?” The lion smirked.
“Yeah, and I’m not a cheater either so leave me alone.” You mutter, eyes fluttering as you fight off sleep. Leona pulls you closer to him easily. “I am your boyfriend.” The shocked expression that arises on your face is one he will never forget. “No way that's awesome!”
“Yeah yeah, get to bed, scavenger.” He smirks, pulling you into his arms. As you fade into unconsciousness, he watches over you. Just how did he get so lucky?
Azul
Azul didn’t know who he should be mad at: Jade for feeding you some mysterious mushroom concoction that he sure would have no side effects or you for actually agreeing to test out Jade’s new drink. Regardless you are now in the VIP room of Mostro Lounge as Azul goes through some of the potions he has on hand. 
Sitting on the VIP couch you watched as Azul kneeled beside you. The mer fussed over you as you seemingly stared through him. Despite his lips moving you couldn’t hear anything he said. “Um, Angelfish are you alright?” Azul asks nervously as your eyes bore a hole through him.
“You kinda look like… my boyfriend…” you slur. If he wasn’t worried sick, he would have actually found the situation humorous, dumbfounded he responded. “Well, what does he look like?” “He’s so beautiful, man.” You sigh.
Azul feels his cheeks heat up as he uncorks a curing potion, wondering how he’s going to get you to drink it. “Like… I love him so much… He’s so pretty and soft and I wanna hold him…” “… Come now love, try and drink this and then rest…” The mer stutters and holds the bottle to your lips. Thankfully, you downed it pretty easily and promptly fell asleep muttering about how much you loved your boyfriend the whole time. Azul’s face was several shades of blue.
Jamil
Vil ended up poisoning you pretty badly during his overblot, and Jamil has been worried sick, to say the least as he sits beside your bed in the nurse's office, impatiently waiting for you to wake up. As you begin to stir, all of Jamil’s attention snaps to you.
“Yuu?” He calls out, giving you a few moments to stir and wake up. You blink tiredly at him before sitting up and looking around. Jamil wanted to crush you into a hug and ask if you were alright but knew that it may overwhelm you.
“Are you alright?” He asks, taking your hands into his as the heart monitor continues to beep. You blink owlishly and look at your hands. “I have a boyfriend.” You say after a while. Jamil didn’t know if he should be annoyed or amused, but it did flatter him to know how loyal you are to him.
A mischievous glint appears in his eye. “I am your boyfriend.” Your eyes widen as the heart monitor picks up, beeping loudly as you smile. “I love you…” You slur, trying to lean into your lover's touch.
Vil
After a certain Shroud’s overblot, you were left hospitalized in a coma for a week. Vil was worried sick and visited you as much as he could, if he couldn't be there, Rook would watch over you for him. When he saw a text notification for Rook saying you were awake, he went to visit you immediately.
Rook didn’t have time to warn Vil about your condition as he walked in and immediately held your face, looking deep into your eyes before hugging you, body shaking as he held onto you. “You’re awake…” He says after a long pause.
You pull away from Vil, and the blond gets ready to scold you for your reckless behavior until he notices your expression. "I have… a boyfriend named Vil… sorry…" you babble before passing out again. Vil would make sure to scold you later
Idia
He was confused when he saw Ortho holding your hand and guiding you to his room. He didn't know how to explain it, but as he watched you through the camera feed something about your movements felt… off
Once Ortho dragged you into his room did he figure out what was wrong? "It's the side effect of their medication," Ortho said after explaining how you ended up in the nurse's room— why did they even discharge you in this state??
Idia groaned and started to clean off his bed to make room for you, before getting up and helping Ortho to guide you over to his bed. "Come on Yuu-shi the sooner you sleep the better." You didn't budge. Instead, you stared through him. Idia stared back awkwardly.
"You seem nice but I already have a boyfriend and I love him." Idia's hair flushed pink. "Eh? What did you say?" "I love my boyfriend and only him so I can't sleep with you…" 
You instead sit down slowly and lay on the floor, immediately falling asleep much to Ortho's confusion and Idia's embarrassment.
Malleus
"Oh dear, what happened to you?" Malleus asked as you stumbled up the path to Ramshackle. It was supposed to be your nightly walk together but you didn't look so good.
You didn't respond as you allowed Malleus to help guide you into Ramshackle and onto the couch. After a moment Malleus asks again, "Mind telling me what happened to you?"
"No worries, I happen to have a recovery spell I can use…" Malleus hums, preparing a spell. "You sound like my boyfriend…" Malleus chuckles. "Is that so Child of Man?" You lazily nod. "He's my most favorite person in the entire world…" you yawn, and Malleus can only admire you, lovestruck. 
"I don't think Jade made me the right tea…" you mutter as you lay down. Malleus makes sure to note that he would have to pay a visit to Jade later as he frets over you.
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Text
Passenger Princess - Max Verstappen
Summary: Some moments between Max and his passenger princess
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Y/n had briefly mentioned she wasn't really the best driver and since Max drives for a living, he's always been happy to let her take the passenger seat and drive for them.
Not that he isn't curious. But equally y/n is one of the best passenger princess' he's ever known. That could just be because he would choose her company over anyone else in the world and can't imagine enjoying anyone else in that position.
"Schat, time to go." Max smiles as he finds y/n with Daniel and Lando since she'd been killing time waiting for her boyfriend to be done with whatever he was going.
"Aww are you taking my best friend away?" Daniel jokes as y/n greets Max with a kiss.
"And now I feel single from witnessing the two of you, I'll be on my way." Lando states earning a hum before he takes off while Daniel does steal a hug before also leaving him.
Once the couple is left on their own Max doesn't waste much time getting them to his car, opening the car door for her which earns him a kiss of thanks from the young woman before she slides into the leather seats.
Gently closing the door for her, he moves around to the driver's seat and climbs in too, smiling when he sees y/n has already kicked off her shoes and pulled her legs up, crossed in the seat.
"Seatbelt, schat." Max states earning a soft smile and making her quickly yank the seatbelt clicking it into place. "Do you just want to go for a bit of a drive?"
"Always." Y/n beams making him hum beginning to reverse from the parking space. "Music."
Y/n pokes the glove box open and pulls out some gum gently putting some in Max's mouth for him before slumping back down in the seat.
Max usually prefers to not spend hours and hours driving around killing time, but when y/n is there. He loves spending time with her. Loves seeing her and spending time with her undisturbed. Not something he can say is so easy to achieve elsewhere.
"You looked great out there. So so good." Y/n declares earning a smile. "I keep getting tagged in loads and loads of posts about how you look so godly after races. Standing up on those podiums."
"Oh yeah?" Max laughs since y/n has no shame in bragging endlessly about her boyfriend, his success and how unreal he looks standing up on the podium, the medal, the biggest trophy and higher above the others.
Just the mental images that rush through her mind get her feeling the rush.
"If I wasn't so sure that you love me, I'd let jealousy get the better of me."
"Schat, you are very secure in this relationship. But you get jealous any time a woman is within arms reach."
Y/n rolls her eyes, she isn't ashamed of her jealousy about Max. She knows how good she has it with him, he loves and takes care of her and she tries at every opportunity to return the favour.
"They know I exist. It's not too much to ask for them to not get in your space." Y/n grumbles while he looks at her for a moment in amusement.
"See you cannot even contain your jealousy just thinking about it."
"Alright, well I appreciate them for giving me content that I would otherwise not have immediate access too." Y/n grins as feel Max's hand come over to her thigh, squeezing the exposed skin.
-
Max rarely choose to drive from Nice airport, but sometimes he just likes the drive. Especially when y/n is tired.
Today is one of those days, getting her out of the private jet and he's known she's exhausted. He's not entirely sure why but she definitely got the giveaway tired eyes.
"Come on, schat. Let's get home." Max smiles as y/n feels herself pulled up onto her feet by him. Purposely getting her up on her feet as a test of how tired she is.
"Mmm...Max, I'm too tired, stop it." Y/n whines immediately. Her hands grabbing at him till he's scooped her up and is carrying her out of the jet.
He smiles feeling her face hide in his neck, though she can't stop herself from placing a kiss on his skin.
He sighs managing to get her sat in the passenger seat and buckle her in, she's still awake and manages a lazy smile at him but he's certain watching her kick off her shoes that she has no intention of being conscious for the drive to Monaco.
"Talk to me. I want to hear your voice." Y/n murmurs making him smile a little as her as she moves her hand to link with his own. It's another giveaway that she will be falling asleep quickly.
Max begins talking, able to talk about all sorts of things that he can think of. Not worried about any of it making sense or sounding ridiculous since y/n hums and murmurs in weak responses, seemingly trying to fight her body on succumbing to the sleeps.
"Schat, do you want me to call the chef ask him to come over for making some food?" Max whispers making her lift her head as if she's confused over the words that just came out his mouth. "Food. Do you want food?"
"Yeah, I want food please." Y/n yawns, huffing slightly as Max squeezes her hand before lifting it up to kiss the back of it which earns a smile.
-
Max driving cars around tracks as part of the content side of the job isn't uncommon. But usually it features Perez. However this time they decided to ask if y/n would surprise Max with an appearance.
However, what they didn't expect was her to pale and look utterly terrified.
Max drives fast for a living but actually when he's driving with y/n in the car, he seems to take much more care with his speed and almost go only a little bit above speed limits. But after reassurance that she would be fine. She agreed to part-take, if only to see Max's reaction.
"Alright, your co-driver is seated. Ready when you are." The marketing girl smiles making Max nod pulling on his helmet and climbing in to see that his co-driver is wearing his helmet design.
Y/n turns grinning at him and the look of surprise is well worth the multiple cameras from all different angles.
"You are my co-driver?"
"Yeah, I think given my reputation the girls were surprised when I didn't want to be your passenger on this occasion." Y/n jokes as he leans over checking her seatbelts, rebuckling and tightening them a little as she swallows thickly.
"Don't worry. I always take good care of you." Max smiles as she gives a slightly nervous smile. "You'll be fine."
After double checking her seatbelts, he buckles himself in before starting the engine and laughs seeing her jump just at the engine revving.
"Alright, lets get going." Max smiles pulling off the clutch and hitting the throttle.
Zooming around the track y/n's hand comes up clutching the shoulder of his racing suit as she repeatedly shouts no, only making him laugh.
"Your eyes are closed!" Max exclaims making her whine.
"They were open!" Y/n shouts back then peeking one eye open to realise that he's passing the line and still going. "You're not stopping!"
"No, we are doing a few laps." Max chuckles, he's lying but he wants to see if a few laps earns more faith in his ability to drive and not just crash directly in the wall.
Her grip only tightens giving away that he eyes are definitely open to see what's happening and of course he's eager to really traumatise is girlfriend so he does a few donuts at the end just to make sure she knows she is actually safe.
"I'm never doing this again." Y/n pants when they finally stop. Max clapping a little while she pouts at him. "I think I should be allowed to drive around now."
"You can if you want."
"You're mad, help me out of here." Y/n laughs making Max laugh and nod, he knew he was stretching his luck with that one. "I prefer being your passenger when you are just driving on the road."
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eddywoww · 3 months
Text
I’m such a sucker for ill timed kink discovery
I’m talking about Steve Has A Hair Pulling kink but doesn’t really know it. He’s always really liked when people play with his hair but
He gets close to Eddie. Because Eddie gets close to Robin and they have a bond that doesn’t make sense to Steve and he’s a little jealous over it but whatever, fine. It takes a few months for Steve to really warm up to Eddie.
And then it’s over.
They start cuddling. Only, it’s not cuddling? It isn’t. Steve just gets high with Robin and Nancy and Jonathan and Eddie and everyone is so nice and so chill and things aren’t weird like they used to be. So Steve relaxes, splays his feet out in Robin’s lap as he lays his head in Eddie’s lap. It’s a first and Eddie definitely freezes for a good few seconds when Steve does it but he lets it happen
He doesn’t touch Steve the first time.
He touches him the second time. When they’re all hanging out and the lights are low and Steve does it again and Robin only halfway gives him a weird look. It doesn’t stop Steve form blinking tired eyes up at Eddie, watching the way he gulps and hovers a hand over Steve’s face.
“I like when people pet my hair,” He says unhelpfully, so high he can barely concentrate. Eddie makes a soft noise and blinks down at him. “You should- you should do that.”
Eddie doesn’t hesitate for long, his fingers carding through. Touching the scalp, nails catching.
It’s the first time Steve has ever broken out into goosebumps over something so simple.
And then it becomes a habit. Steve falls asleep in Eddie’s lap and it becomes a habit because Eddie can’t seem to stop and Steve can’t seem to stop him. So he sits in front of Eddie whenever he can. Lays all over him, high or not.
One day, it all goes to shit. He’s high again, head placed in Eddie’s lap. Ignoring whatever movie they’re watching in the dark. Eyes closed and mind drifting as Eddie pets him. Steve isn’t sure how his hands never get tired but he isn’t complaining.
Robin screams at an ill timed jump scare and of course, of course. The universe loves to mock Steve. Eddie’s hand clenched reflexively and he pulls, PULLS at Steve’s hair. Sudden and hard. Just yanks from the root and-
Steve feels it like a shock collar. Like a bolt of lightning. Right into his scalp, a shiver that works its way down his body. He’s half hard before he can really do anything about it. And of course he had to panic. What else can he do but bolt upright and off the couch? Stumbling toward the nearest bathroom before anyone can think much of it? Mumbles off an excuse about being dizzy.
Eddie is at the door once Steve gets out. Once he splashes his face with cold water and tries to wills away his sudden boner and WHY the FUCK he would get one in the first place. Past the whole “maybe I like guys” thing that he’s been ruminating on since freshmen year.
Eddie is so sweet to him, worried that Steve really got too high. He’s even ready with a bottle of water. It’s painful and it makes Steve feel even worse.
It isn’t supposed to happen again but it does. Yes, it does. The next time Steve gets high, he tries not to sit next to Eddie. They’re at the trailer this time. But Steve is Steve and high Steve loves attention. So he ends up laying all over Eddie again, eyes drifting shut.
It’s Eddie’s fault this time.
His fingers drift far into chestnut locks. Sinking deep, deeper than usual. Just to clench up and pull. It’s light, almost unnoticeable. But it’s enough for Steve’s eyes to pop open again. To look up at Eddie in wonder, mouth open on a silent noise. And Eddie is looking back, watching Steve with a deer in headlights expression. He goes “Huh.” Like he just figured something out, like he just solved a problem.
Steve should have seen it as a warning.
He also should have stopped using Eddie as a jungle gym.
The third time is even worse. Because they both know now, don’t they? But neither of them will talk about it. No, that would be too much.
Eddie pats his lap like an invitation and no one even thinks it’s weird. Steve doesn’t care if they do. He looks forward to these weekly movie nights more than ever now.
Robin isn’t on their couch tonight. She hasn’t given any inkling that she knows what’s going on but she probably suspects Steve has a crush. She won’t mention it, not yet. He loves that about her.
And Eddie. Eddie doesn’t even watch the movie, he watches Steve. As he plays with his hair, lips quirking when he finally wraps a strand around one finger and tugs at it and Steve’s back arches the tiniest bit and his blood drains south and he’s got his nails in the soft fabric of Jonathan’s couch.
“There you go,” Eddie whispers, just the tail end of some sort of praise and- and Steve can’t really take that, can he? He bites his bottom lip to try and hide the whine that wants to escape. Rubs his face against Eddie’s thigh. Feels the hard outline of his cock, so close to Steve’s face. Fuck. “I knew it.”
He knew it, he knew it. Fuck.
Nothing happens. Steve goes home with wide eyes and flushed cheeks and a stupid amount of horniness. Eddie smiles like it’s the funniest thing in the world.
The final time is the straw that breaks the camels back.
Steve sits at Eddie’s feet on the floor of his trailer. The rest of them are smoking but Steve isn’t this time. Doesn’t want to, doesn’t need it. Not when Eddie already has a hand in his hair and Steve feels boneless and wow, this is just normal now, isn’t it?
There’s little to no pretense once the lights go down. And the night is terrible and great in equal measure. Steve is so hard it hurts, head leaned back and eyes closed. Waiting for Eddie to give in and pull his hair again. He won’t do it. He won’t just-
Not until everyone leaves. Not until Robin rolls her eyes and huffs something like ‘finally’ on her way out.
Eddie pulls Steve into his lap and their lips meet and- and he grabs two fistfuls of hair and pulls hard. Hard enough for Steve to let out a groan that is embarrassingly loud. Loud enough that he hopes everyone is really gone.
Steve discovers a stupid little kink and Eddie gets a preppy little boyfriend.
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peterthepark · 2 years
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𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐛𝐨𝐲
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
tags: 18+ very graphic smut, rough van sex, dirty talk, analplay, sub!eddie but also very much switch!eddie, lust at first sight, major mutual pining, a sprinkle of perv!eddie but hes sexy so its okay, (1) guest appearance by dustin, post vol. 2 fix-it fic, 7k filth
summary: she’s the girl next door. eddie is the metalhead freak who’s just barely clearing his name after a whole town fiasco. opposites attract but certainly not like this, and certainly not in the back of eddie’s van.
a/n: pov vol 2 ended on a positive note and eleven miraculously fixed everything so a freshly-graduated eddie can now live his life to the fullest!!!!!!!! aka what should’ve happened… minors dni. not for u.
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It’s rare for Eddie Munson to be roaming the white-picket fence suburbs of Hawkins. It feels like a fantasyland — golden retrievers and tabby cats, designated trash days and bright, green grass full of yellow daffodils, oak trees with makeshift swings and wooden playgrounds built by loving fathers. It’s too perfect, too uncanny, and Eddie knows deep down that he doesn’t belong in such a world as nice as this one. 
But the suburbs of Hawkins are also welcoming.
When he gives Dustin a ride from school to home, when the noon is at its peak, golden rays and soft sprinklers making rainbows rise from the soil, he thinks — for a moment or two — that he belongs. He could if he wanted to. When Henderson invites him over for dinner, or when Harrington needs help fixing his car, when Mike needs relationship advice (as if Eddie could know anything about that) and when Robin wants to know more about Iron Maiden to impress the metalhead ladies, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, it isn’t so bad on this side of town.
That is until he saw you. And he realized then why everyone called this part of Hawkins a slice of paradise.
Pretty college student. Cut-off shorts from the Gap paired with baggy baseball tees, and a cute nose always stuffed in a romance novel or — some days — a textbook. Glossy lips, adorable socks and checkered picnic blankets where you’d lay out on the too-pristine yard, kicking your legs back and forth as if acting like eye candy was your specialty. 
The perfect poster girl of Hawkins with just enough rough edges to be labelled the girl next door. 
Only, Eddie doesn’t live next door to you. Dustin does. 
“The least you could tell me is her name, Henderson. I don’t want gas money, I want her name. Spelled out for me, syllable by syllable. Government name.” Eddie rambles, shifting impatiently in the driver’s seat as Dustin leans over the passenger window from the outside. “We’re sitting ducks here, man. What if she sees us spying on her damn fence like some creeps?”
The curly-haired sophomore sighs, fingers strung together as he frowns at his older friend, “You are a grown ass man, Eddie. All you have to do is ask her, just say hi, make an impression or something! You can’t just be looking at her from afar everytime you come over, blasting this Metallica shit…”
“You are on very thin ice, boy.” Eddie wags a finger at him, wide eyes bouncing between Dustin and the front of your house. “I don’t know her like you know her. I don’t wanna be weird, especially after just putting all this town satanic cult bull behind my ass. She might think — dammit, I don’t know… I just wouldn’t wanna scare the girl, okay?” He sucks in a deep breath, shrugging the thought off with a hopeful smile, “Not this time.”
“Disgusting.” 
He snaps his head towards Dustin, reaching over and rustling the cap on his head with a playful smirk. “You’re disgusting, you fuckin’ booger.”
And as if on cue, like every other day he’s been through this neighborhood, Eddie watches your figure emerge from the porch, picnic blanket and weathered paperback in hand. His jaw goes slack at the image of your denim overall-clad frame, nothing but a bikini-like bra underneath the number while a fresh cigarette dangles from your lips. So much skin — the exposed flesh of your neck, the salty beads of sweat rolling down your collarbone, the cherubic glow of your complexion and the alluring blush of your lips as you sit out on the yard. 
Fuck.
A loud boom pulls the metalhead from his trance. Dustin’s palm comes down against the flimsy van door. “Earth to Eddie? Get a grip, you’re drooling.” 
And all he can really say is: “She’s so damn pretty.”
Maybe he’s overreacting. Maybe he’s just really that in-deep with a girl who he has never, ever spoken to. Maybe he’s a pervert rather than a misunderstood freak and this is all just completely wrong of him. But, god, it feels so right to stare. Eddie can’t help it, especially once you catch sight of Dustin and send him an adorable little wave — then your eyes flicker over to Eddie’s dumbfounded expression inside the van, where you wave at him too. 
And the twenty one year-old swears he dies. Right at that moment. His heart skips several beats all at once, possibly even flatlining as a small smile falls upon your graceful features, bursting right out of his chest even as you look away and immediately redirect your attention to the walkman in your pocket like you hadn’t just casually murdered him alive. 
Fuck me, he thinks.
The next time Eddie sees you, he gets a little more than a wave. He’s reveling in this newfound attention as he bounces down the steps of Dustin’s porch and catches sight of you on the other side of the fence, already staring his way before he sends you a nerdy two-finger salute with a close-lipped smile. And just before he reaches the sidewalk, your sweet voice stops him in his determined tracks. 
“Metallica at three p.m. in this neighborhood is a death wish, you know.” 
Eddie turns slowly on his heels, shoes facing you before his whole body follows hesitantly. He’s trying to wipe off that stupid expression on his face, lips parted into a skinny ‘O’ that makes him look like a fish out of water as you finally make eye contact. He heats up immediately from the inside, belly churning and throat tightening when you give him a once over. And it seems like you don’t exactly care for subtlety either — blown pupils raking over his tattooed arms, taking in the torn rips of his shirt-turned-tank-top and the tanlines just above his elbows. 
He hopes you think that the scars on his body are just as badass (if not, more) than his tats. 
Say something. “Didn’t know music was on a schedule.” Eddie manages to follow along with a shrug, lips tugging to the side nervously.
In response, you smile. You fucking smile as if he hadn’t just said the most stupid response ever. It’s gentle, airy, almost effortless as crescent-like lines shape your warm cheeks and you cup a hand over your eyes, adorably squinting through the bright sunlight. “Oh, believe me, I had Iron Maiden on blast one time and ever since then, the whole block has been thinking I’m some sort of cult apologist.”
His heart grows like a balloon filling with helium, voice even going so far to climb several octaves of excitement as his eyebrows shoot up his forehead. “You… you listen to that kind of stuff?”
You play with the lacy strap of your top. You’re beaming widely at him from the other side of the fence. “Do you judge books by their covers, mister?”
“No, ma’am.” Eddie swipes the glistening pad of his thumb across his bottom lip, stifling the grin that threatens to spread across his mouth. Sheepish, he shakes his head. “I think I underestimated you then. I’m… I’m sorry I…”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m kidding. Seriously though, I have a bunch of mixtapes back in my room. Ozzy, Dio, some Sabbath. No one really gets it, but you… you seem like you do.”
And Eddie wonders: could you get any more damn perfect? The suburban denim dream, the girl next door, the quintessential concoction of every teenage boy’s fantasy and every teenage girl’s desire… listens to metal music? And not just AC/DC or KISS (because everyone loves those guys), but the same music he’s grown up with and loved? 
He can’t help but picture you in your bed, records spread out across your comforter as you switch between Dream Evil and Peace of Mind. Your limbs stretched out on the mattress, shirt riding up with nothing but black panties underneath as you rock out to his favorites. 
Yeah. He’ll think about that one a lot.
“I definitely get it. I do, I really do. I love metal.” Eddie rambles, hoping to keep your attention by stalling this conversation as much as possible. You nod at him with those big, innocent eyes and roll your fleshy lip between your teeth, keen to every stupid word that falls from his tongue. “But hey, it can be our little secret, then.” He leisurely gravitates towards the van while you match his strides, taking note of his quavering pitch and the use of Eddie’s own hands waving through the air wildly as he attempts to withhold his nervousness. “And again, just for peace of mind, I didn’t mean to judge. I figured…”
“Madonna?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He chuckles. Feels the anxiety in his stomach build even more. “Nothin’ wrong with Madonna, though. Sexy tunes. Can’t deny that.”
Sexy tunes. Come on, Munson.
But that draws a giggle right out of you, “Sexy tunes, indeed.” Then, you’re both leaning against the side of his van. No fence or Dustin coming between the two of you, just your sweaty bodies and Hawkins’ summer heat seeping through your thin clothes. You hold your palm out, fingers welcomingly outstretched. “I’m Y/N, by the way.” 
Eddie’s gaze bounces from your smaller hand to the doting expression on your face before gingerly enveloping it in his own. “Eddie. Edward. E-Eddie. You can…” You give him a gentle squeeze, a sure smile dusting over your lips. “You can just call me Eddie, or whatever. Whatever you want, Y/N.”
“Well,” You laugh again, and Eddie blushes profusely at the lighthearted noise. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Whatever.” You share another one of those looks, and he swears that this time — this time, your eyes do all the talking that needs to be done. “I think we’ll get along really well… Eddie.”
His name has never sounded so perfect out loud.
Eddie sees you again. 
And again. Every time he drops Dustin off. Again. Leant against the side of his van. Talking and talking, until there’s nothing to talk about — but it’s rare. He always has something to talk about, even when his voice fails him and he stutters or stumbles over syllables because you’re so fucking pretty and he’s… he’s just Eddie. But you see him differently than the others, so he supposes that maybe being “just Eddie” isn’t such an awful thing after all. 
Again, you talk. The sidewalk. Along the road. On your lawn. Sometimes, Eddie will even join you on your blanket, skim through your books and take note of what you read, then he’ll recommend “true” literature like Lord of the Rings or something else with elves and witches. 
Summer has never felt so long. 
Again.
Until again becomes every afternoon. Even on the days Dustin doesn’t need a ride home anymore. Even on the days he has to practice with his band at four, but he can always just come see you at three and drive back because it’s no big deal. Even on the days your parents say you need to stop talking to that Munson boy because he’s no good, but who fucking cares? 
Again, anyways.
You’re not scared of him. He’s not scary. He never was.
And so afternoons turn into nights. And nights consist of sneaking out to Eddie’s van that he’s parked a few houses down the street, because God forbid he talks to the innocent girl next door. Innocent is one fat hoax. You’re smoking pot with him in the back of his fucking van for Ozzy’s sake, giggly and unrelenting as you sit next to each other and drench yourselves in the scent of weed and Eddie’s drugstore cologne while Metallica plays faintly in the background.
He’s all man, but soft with his eyes. Soft in the way he looks at you. Crude in the way he secretly desires you. Now that he knows you, really knows you, you aren’t just beautiful. 
You’re completely devastating. 
You take a long drag of his joint, wincing as the paper sizzles and burns orange. “Fuck, I wish I tried getting high sooner. You’re a horrible influence, you know that?”
Eddie hums with a toothy grin, fiddling with the pair of flimsy headphones in his lap. “And yet you still meet me back here every night.”
“Why do I even do that?” 
“Um, ‘cause I got, like, really fucking good ‘A’ quality weed and impeccable taste in music.” He shrugs nonchalantly, eyes following the mold of your lips around the bud. “Easy there, tigress. Don’t hog it.”
“You said…”
“I said, you could have one hit. And now, I’m confiscating it.”
You groan in protest as Eddie leans over to your side of the van and snatches the blunt from you, tossing it into a mushroom shaped ashtray as he gazes at you curiously. “Since when did you become so mean to me?”
“Weed is meant to be treasured, Y/N. And plus, I’m always mean.”
He has to admit — there has been tension between the two of you ever since your afternoon catch-ups turned into late night talking. Maybe he’s imagining it, but surely you feel it too. The bubbling in his stomach when your elbows brush in such a confined space. The heat rushing to his cheeks when you laugh and place a hand on his thigh, or the dizzy rush flooding your forehead when he picks a flyaway strand of hair off of your shoulder. The increase in your heartbeats as you stare at each other for a minute too long, even sneaking in a second glance because you just have to. 
“You know what you should treasure?” You quirk a brow at him. A smirk tugs upon your lips as you dig through your pocket and pull out a cassette tape, shaking it in front of Eddie’s face. “This week’s mix I made you.”
“My mix is better.” He flicks his walkman open, switching out the tape inside for the one you hand him. “Here’s yours, ma’am.”
And he supposes that no one really expected that his friendship with the girl next door would be founded on trading music with each other. Ever since you and Eddie found out your tastes were in alignment, you made it a goal to introduce new songs to him — Madonna included. Sexy tunes. 
You think he could get used to the oddity of The Cure. He thinks he can convince you that Guns N’ Roses will eventually be a rock sensation. You’re skeptical. Maybe.
So you marinate in each other’s stagnant presence, leaning on opposite walls of his metal tin can of a van, holding your own walkmans with ears caressed by Koss headphones and lids shut as your heads bob to the acoustics. Eddie can’t help but crack an eye open, sneaking a peek at your chewed lip and your look of concentration. 
“I like this one.” You pipe up, feeling his stare on you. He glances away before you can actually catch him, training his gaze on the mess of blankets behind the driver’s seat. “You know, your choices this week are very interesting, Munson.”
Suggestive. His choices are suggestive, is what you’re thinking. From the first to the last track, the list of songs messily etched onto the cassette with the most boyish handwriting you’d ever seen, you can only hope that the metalhead holds some sort of attraction for you in the same manner you do for him. 
Eddie chuckles, and winces apologetically at you. “I still hate The Cure, by the way.”
You nod unconvinced, and pull one of the cups of your headphones away from your ear. There’s a smile of amusement, an interested dimple in your cheek. “And yet you included The Perfect Girl on here?” 
“Only because it made me think of you.”
For once, he realizes that he has flustered you. Your jaw goes slack, your pupils widen, brows softening before your nose crinkles at him. “Shut up, Eddie.”
His palms raise in a peaceful surrender, ringed fingers wiggling adorably. “You asked, Y/N.” A beat. Then you’re playfully throwing a jacket at his face and squealing before he instinctively lunges forward at you, gentle hands pulling you back by the elbows. Despite the struggle, eventually he’s pinned to the floor of the van and you’re on top of him straddling his soft belly. “Get off, you monster!” He near-giggles, sputtering as his hair gets into his mouth and he feels your body racking with laughter. 
“You’re so rude to me. Like the rudest. When has The Cure ever hurt you?” You pant out, chest rising and falling steadily as you both catch your breath. Eddie’s headphones haphazardly hug his head, walkman in the palm that rests above him. “Do you treat your girlfriend this way, hm?”
“No girlfriend.” 
“Oh?” 
“Mmm, I thought it was obvious.” He replies quietly, the sound comes out more like a soft moan rather than an agreement. His plushy lips are wet with saliva, tongue poking between the pink flesh as his eyes flicker from your parting mouth to your curious, swirling irises. “S’why I’m here with you.”
“So I’m the second choice is what you’re…”
“Please, you are farthest from the second choice, sweetheart.” Eddie laughs, ribs rumbling against his torso. Only then does he become hyper aware of the way your breasts push up against his shirt, the warmth of your skin intermixing with his, your nipples hardening against the thin white fabric of your camisole. Sweetheart, you repeat. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Sweetheart. “Do you have one?”
“A girlfriend?” You ask, tone playful and curious.
Careless Whisper echoes through his headphones; your mixtape is still looping through his walkman as you trail your fingers down his wrists and brace yourself on his chest. 
Fucking hell. It’s ironic. It’s pathetic. George Michael needs to shut up. Why is this damned song on here? He’s struggling to think, struggling to focus on the words coming from your mouth, struggling to keep it in his pants because you keep shifting farther and farther away from his stomach, and more and more towards his crotch. Focus. Tune out that stupid saxophone.
“Sure.” He shrugs breathlessly, tingling with anticipation. 
“Nope.”
“Boyfriend?”
“Not yet, no. Why is this a conversation, Eddie?” You bite your lip cheekily, knees planted firmly on either side of his lean body when you gaze down at him then survey the still-lit joint resting on his ashtray. Silence, then: “Can I have a hit? Please?”
Eddie glances at your lips, fixating on how your tongue darts out to lick at the sticky gloss. The moonlight casts a glow over your frame, highlighting the path of your curves through your tank top. And without really taking his eyes off of your beautiful face, his fingers reach for the blunt, a blush spreading across his chiseled cheeks when your hand brushes against his to grab it. 
Please.
A sizzle rustles through the heavy air as you take a slow drag.
And Eddie can’t help himself. Not this time.
“You’re so pretty, you know that?”
You’re slowly tossing the perfectly-good blunt aside, leaning down and lazily grabbing Eddie gingerly by his chin. 
He thinks you’re gonna kiss him.
And before he can lift his head to meet you, instead, you’re blowing a puff of smoke between his parted lips with an exhale. “Fuck… ing… heck…” He instantly groans, eyelids drooping as your ass pushes against him teasingly like you hadn’t just shotgunned into his goddamn mouth. Party trick. You flutter your lashes bashfully, dimples poking at your cheeks as Eddie gapes at you just inches away from your face. “Y/N, where the fuck did you… learn that?”
You sigh. “Eddie Munson, you just keep on underestimating me.” 
“I really do, I really fucking do…” He huffs, knuckles turning white around his walkman as you sensually tug his headphones off. “I just — just thought you were…”
“Innocent? Oblivious? I may be your girl next door fantasy… or whatever the fuck you Hawkins boys think about me…” You smirk, taking Eddie’s much-larger hands into yours and placing them firmly on your hips. “… but I am not fucking blind… you’ve been acting so off this entire night, must need something to take the edge off, don’t you?”
Fucking Ozzy. He can’t take it. His lips tug into a wince. “That easy, huh?”
Red-handed, you coo. “The easiest.”
“So technically you’re calling me easy, then?” Eddie jokes, heart pounding against his chest as he tenderly digs his fingertips into your love handles.
This is what he’s wanted. This is it. 
And it’s not a fucking dream at all. It’s absolutely heaven. 
Just like heaven.
“Eh, I think it’s endearing. The way you…” He curses under his breath as you lean over and trail your mouth up his jawline, biting his earlobe. “… savor me… savor looking at me. The way you think I don’t notice your stare, when your eyes wander a couple inches down whenever I talk? Oh, you think you’re so slick. I’m not naïve. Why do you think we hang out in your van at night?”
He shudders when your teeth find the cool surface of the guitar pick around his neck. “You’re evil, sweetheart.”
“And you’re horny, but maybe I shouldn’t talk about that.”
“No, definitely…” Eddie laughs nervously, swallowing as he looks down at you. “Definitely not. I’m… fuck, I’m fine. I’m good.”
“Or, maybe I should.” Back and forth banter. It’s natural with you. Too natural, almost like it has always meant to be like this between the eager pair of you. You don’t kiss him, not yet. He can wait. “Acting like a gentleman, like my friend, when in reality you can’t help but think of banging me everytime we see each other?”
“M’sorry, okay? We are friends — fuck, Y/N. Can’t focus… can’t exactly t-talk when you’re on my lap like that.”
Heat pools to his lower stomach, breaths quickening as his hands mindlessly drift down to your upper thighs, squeezing your skin through your little shorts when you grind against him. “Like this? How does it feel? Touching me, feeling me on you like this?”
Eddie’s eyes are dark, almost black in the dim shadows of his van. He looks up at you with the most dilated, entranced look, and you swear it almost makes you break. “Feels… feels so nice. Warm. I just… fuck, I don’t… don’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do… Y/N, goddamnit…”
“I think it’s both clear what we want, no?” You press a kiss to his cheek, running your thumb along the skin beneath his lower lashes. His self-control is slowly diminishing, inch by inch, he feels himself melting in your presence. “I stare, too, just so you know. I stare a lot.”
“Yeah?” Eddie lifts a shaky hand, nervously cupping your jaw and nudging his nose against yours. His voice ghosts your skin, raspy and more of a whimper than a command. “Tell me about it.”
Your mouth hovers over his, lips barely brushing against each other. Touching, touching, touching, only to pull away at the very last second. He can almost just taste the marijuana from your tongue, almost taste the honey dripping from your voice as you peck the corner of his lips. Almost. “I look at your arms, and your really cool tattoos, then I picture… where else you have them on your body…” You gasp into his ear as his hips rut into you, his fingers drawing shapes against the side of your face. “Picture your lips on my chest… kissing me, leaving marks… bruises, hickies, whatever you want, Munson. Your mouth between my — my thighs… tugging on your hair because you’d be so good to me, wouldn’t you?”
“M’want you so bad. You don’t know the half of it.” He whispers, stroking a knuckle across the shadow of your cupid’s bow. “Please… let me… fuck, let me kiss you. Please, Y/N. Want it so bad. Been wanting you ever since summer started. Makin’ me crazy, got me feeling like I’m insane with the way I just… just obsess over us.”
He’s earned it. 
“Like I said, whatever you want.” You grin devilishly.
Eddie’s lips finally collide with yours, erotically wet and far from smooth. It’s incongruous, sweaty skin rubbing against each other and clothes rustling as Eddie sits up, your arms swaddling his lanky frame while you crane your neck to kiss him deeply. His hair is in your mouth, his nose smushed against the side of your face, strained groans slipping from his throat as he traverses down your neck, selfishly licking the divot of your collarbone before his palms are venturing under your camisole. 
“You’re so fucking hot.” He whines, lashes fluttering against your thin bra as he pulls your top over your head. He’s mouthing at the cups, biting at the stringy lace of your push-up before he’s tugging the material down to reveal your nipples. “I just… fuck, I’m just in awe of you. You’re the perfect girl, and I get to have you.” He wraps his lips around the hardened bud, moaning as he alternates between the two and litters your flesh in dark hickies. You fist his hair, caving into his frame. “You’re so sexy. Just… fucking… took the words out of me, leavin’ me speechless… I’ll make you feel so f-fucking good if you let me.”
Your head rolls back as he kisses up the underside of your chin, meeting your lips in a more tender kiss. Your nails trail underneath his Iron Maiden ringer tee, lightly tracing over the raised scars on his abdomen, his belly, skimming over his sparse happy trail and the subtlety of his v-line. “You’re all talk, Eddie… wanna make me feel good?” He nods meekly, the veins in his neck flexing as you stroke his brow bone. “Think you should start by undressing me…”
“Christ, please.”
And without a beat, Eddie’s reaching around you to unclasp your bra, tossing it aside so that it lands over the back of the driver’s seat. He kisses his way down your belly, the little pudge when you sit, only for him to lay you down on your back, clumping up a bunch of jackets to make a pillow for your head. His fingers unbutton your shorts, tugging them down the length of your legs with your panties until they get caught on your Chucks. 
He takes those off too. Quite frankly, chucks the Chucks across the van with a squeaky mutter of ‘goddamn shoes…’  before he’s pocketing a lineup of chunky rings into his jeans.
Eddie’s mouth makes up for the dorky mishap, his lips make haste against your tender calves, biting the squish of your thighs and nudging his nose against the glossy patches of arousal on the inside of your skin. He inhales the scent of your cunt, and you jerk with a moan of surprise as he kisses you there, open and fluttering for him while he lays on his stomach.
He’s never seen such a pretty pussy. It emboldens him, leaves him brazen and aching for more even though it’s the first time he’s ever seen you this naked. Even though he’s barely even had you, he still needs more.
“Need you so bad it hurts.” Eddie growls, looking up at you with a smirk as you gnaw on your bottom lip. “You’re just… fuck, how did you get this wet? God, you’re unreal, baby… let me? Please? Let me… let me eat it… I’ll do anything…”
Let me. Let me. Let me. It’s his mantra. You’d be lying if you deny that it stirs something animalistic within you.
You nod violently, biting down on your forefinger as he props you up against the wall of the van and parts your knees even further before he’s shoving his face into you. Your hands dart straight into his curls again, pulling and tugging until you’re holding him by a wiry ponytail, watching the eager way he suckles at the bundle of nerves just at the apex of your sex. 
Eddie feels like a fucking virgin. Desperate. Impatient. Aggressive. He’s too excited — it displays itself when he slips two digits into your needy slit, taking in how you instantly buck against him. You need him. Need him in the same manner he needs this. His ego fires up as he drives his fingers further, running his tongue over and back and down your clit until your grip on his hair becomes suffocating.
“Having fun down there, h-hm?” You croak. Even with his head buried between your thighs, you’re mischievous, challenging, witty. He’d fuck the brains out of you if he could, but honestly, he isn’t even sure if he could survive one second with his cock in your little fist. “Fuckkk. You’re makin’ me feel so good, Eds…” Your head hits the metal wall, a soft bang that goes unnoticed with all the squelching and creaming as Eddie scissors his fingers. 
“You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect, I love the way you look right now, s’fucking hot… could cum just by watching you.”
“Yeah? Just wait — just fucking wait till I suck you off.”
Eddie can’t wrap his thoughts around it. His tongue, his hands, where he’s buried inside you. He’s wanted this, ever since the start of summer, and he’s here with the girl he thought was untouchable — the perfect girl with a perfect, filthy secret that is him. 
You’re grinding your mound against his mouth, quivering jaw unhinged in the darkness of his large van. His eyes flicker up to your tits, slick with his spit and your own as a dribble of saliva falls from your lips, tainting your skin. 
For once, you aren’t put-together. He’s ripping your façade apart at the seams and leaving nothing to sew back.
“You’re a fucking mess, Y/N… oh, I do this to you?” He’s touching you till you’re vibrating and mewling. He’s lapping every drop of you up, tasting you permanently on his lips as he prods at your clit. “Fuck, honey…” Eddie bites you, hard enough to nurse a bruise on the inside of your thigh. “Please cum for me, yeah? Jus’ look how wet I’ve gotten you, sweetheart… you’re practically — oh, my god… you’re practically gaping… you wanna cum that bad?”
You really can’t help it. Not when he’s cooing at you with that whiny voice, teasing and suggestive as your cunt spasms over his pink knuckles. Your hips rise from the carpet flooring, and Eddie leaves another bite-mark on your stomach as slick trickles out of you. You don’t moan. You don’t scream, nor cry. Just a broken whimper and a restrained, quiet utterance of Eddie’s name beneath your breath. 
Somehow, it makes his cock pulse even harder.
He gently kisses your cunt, running a soothing tongue over the bruises he’s left and the dip in where your hip meets your thigh. “Fuck, that was hot.” He smells the aftermath of your orgasm, really smelling you this time, and it ends up driving him nuts. “Oh, Y/N… your pussy…” You follow his gaze, letting out a lewd sound as Eddie admires the puffiness of your folds, swollen and open from his work. You jolt as soon as he tries to spread you. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry, d-didn’t mean to get so damn rough with you. You tasted so fucking nice, s’all.”
“No, I…” You brush his hair away from his face, pushing his bangs aside as he sits up and wedges himself between your knees. “I love rough. I can take it. I can take this.” Your other hand palms him through his jeans, before you’re dipping yourself beneath his waistband, hairs prickling at your skin as you grasp him. “Do you want me to be rough with you, Eds? Because I just… I really, really want your cock, and I… I dunno if I can hold myself back…”
“Oh, you little slut.” He gasps brazenly as you pull his shirt off, eyes wide at your sudden conviction for him, “Take it. Take me, Y/N. I’m all yours, whatever you fucking want.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, baby.”
You smirk, helping him kick off his jeans and boxers. Your cunt pathetically gapes for him once he’s bare, contracting around nothingness as Eddie takes your place against the wall. He leans back, and you just stare — drinking him in the same way he drinks you in. Your puffy nipples, still damp from his spit, your darkened neck a testament to his artistry, your mouth parting in awe as you fit his erect cock into your hand. Barely.
He’s big — lengthwise, and it curves heavily in your grasp as you lean down to pop him between your lips. Eddie nearly knees you, palms flying to cover his face as he desperately cries your name. “Y/N… oh, f-fucking… oh, Jesus…” You rake your nails up and down his thighs, licking a stripe up his manhood as you play with his sopping tip.
You chuckle in amusement around him, “Such a leaky cock. You like that, Eds? Mmm, you messy boy. All this pre-cum and I’ve… aw, I’ve barely touched you. Tell me what feels good, ‘kay?”
“S’all of it… all of it is — it’s good… fuck, words are so… words…” He melts even more as you sheathe him into your mouth, stuttering as he feels you hold back a gag. Your whole body convulses, back arching upwards as Eddie watches you take and take and take. “Oh, Y-Y/N… you just keep — keep getting better and better. Holy shit.” His belly aches with desire, tightening with each bob of your head and every seductive blink of your eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Thought about you.. whenever you’d — mmm, whenever you’d lay out on that darn lawn, what if I took you right there? What if I just… fucked you on that grass…”
“You and your dirty mouth, Munson.” You glare up at him in feigned annoyance, jerking his shaft with fast, purposeful movements. “I think it’s funny… how you pretend like you’re such a nice guy when really, you’re only a perv for me.”
“So what? Are you gonna punish me?” He challenges beadily, tongue poking out between gritted teeth like he could win this fight. “Or are you gonna fuck me, pretty girl?”
And just like that, the air changes. He feels the shift, the veil that falls over your eyes, nothing but sex and his scent running in your mind.
“No, Eds.” You move to straddle his thigh; your bare cunt dragging against his scarred skin. “I’m gonna make you beg.” 
You take him into your fist again, stroking him between the generous suction of your lips and the sweep of your tongue. He tastes good to your surprise, and then you’re creating a pool of spit that trickles from his abdomen to his balls. 
Messy girl. “Christ, Y/N.”
You release him with an erotic pop! — there’s stringy saliva connecting you to the crown of his cock, your throat is raw, his dick impatient, twitchy and excited. “You wanna fuck me so bad, you can’t even think straight. Look at my hand right now, look how tiny it looks when I hold you…” You grind yourself against his knee, groaning with him as you quicken your pace. Your brows furrow, a wicked grin ghosting itself over your features. “Baby, are you going to cum already?”
“Y/N, don’t s-stop. I’m beggin’ you, please…”
“Oh, you’re begging? This is what you call begging?”
“Please, s’too hard.”
“Too hard? What’s too hard? Me not letting you cum, or…” You give him one good jerk, twisting your fist so that your thumb brushes over his white-coated tip. “… your cock? Because you’re awfully, awfully rock hard right now. I bet it hurts doesn’t it, my love?” My love. His eyes gloss over. Your mouth hugs the shell of his ear. “You wanna cum?”
“Y-Yes…” He near-whimpers. Desperate. “Wanna cum so badly.”
“No.”
You release him for what feels like the hundredth time tonight. His climax dwindles back to square one, and his leg thrashes out in dismay. There’s sweat beading down your forehead, drops forming on Eddie’s brow bone as he scowls at you. 
You kiss him, almost like an apology, but Eddie can tell you’re not sorry. Far from it. You enjoy this, enjoy getting him off just to start over and make him beg. Is it so sick that he likes it? The more you stretch this interaction out, the more he gets to touch you. Like now, as you swing your knees on either side of him, his palm gingerly clasping the nape of your neck as he presses your face to his.  
“Let me fuck you? Let me be inside?” He pleads, nudging his nose against yours in anguished yearning. He drags his hand over your cheek, enveloping your jaw with outstretched fingers. “Just wanna bury myself inside you and stay there. Don’t even wanna cum anymore, I promise. I promise I’ll fuck you so good, m’not pathetic like the other guys… wanna feel you jus’ dripping on me, Y/N.”
You don’t answer, just gasp into his parted mouth as you line each other up. The angry head of his cock catches on your swell, snagging your clit before his tip lodges itself inside you and he — quite literally — goes rigid. You curse, slowly sinking down his length until your pussy refuses to take more. 
“You’re s-so big.”
Eddie feels like he’s going to fucking burst. “Sweetheart,” He pants, panicked and frenzied as you squeeze around him. Your head lolls onto his shoulder, arms thrown around his body as he tangles his slender fingers into your scalp and pulls you impossibly closer to his chest. “Sweetheart, I can feel every p-part of you… you’re so — fuck, just like that, you wet messy thing.” He whines, the curve of your ass coming down against his lap as you keenly bounce on his cock. He meets you with gentle thrusts, your cunt already milking him thin. “Look at you, fuck, you’re loving this.”
“E-Eddie…” Your tits are squished against his pecs, his necklace sandwiching itself between your damp skin. “More. More. Give it…”
“You can’t take it, baby. I don’t wanna hurt you.”
“I can take it. I can. It’s not enough, I’m telling you.” You rut your hips stubbornly, guiding his palms to your waist before he’s carefully rolling you onto your side and hiking your calf over the tender slope of his shoulder. “S’not nearly enough, Eds.”
“Okay.” He breathes out, inhaling deeply as he slips himself deeper inside you. The stretch stings harshly, flashes of white prickling at the cones of your vision as he splits you raw and wide open. “Is this enough? You fuckin’… god, you perfect whore…” Your spine tingles as Eddie tugs you closer by the hip, ramming himself into you relentlessly. “… such perfect tits, a perfect leaky cunt…” He presses a kiss to your ankle, before flipping you onto your knees so that he can fuck you from behind. He wants to see you, see you flutter for him, feed his sick thoughts and relive the nights where he jerked himself off in this very van in empty parking lots to the idea of you. “… and this perfect ass… another hole waiting to be used, right, Y/N? You’d let me use it, wouldn’t you? If I’m nice enough, I bet you’d let me fuck it…”
Fucking hell.
You cum as soon as he dips the pad of his thumb against the responsive ring of muscle. You both grow feral at the sensation. Soaked. Pussy chafed raw from his cock. You can’t tell whose fluids are whose, if it’s Eddie’s spit or yours, if it’s your juices or his — the embarrassing manner in which your cunt just sucks him in, the tight walls of your ass fluttering around his gentle finger as he drives into you.
How is the van still upright? Eddie doesn’t know. 
He’s an Ozzy clusterfuck of strangled, broken sounds and you’re a broken record player of Eddie-Eddie-Eds-Please, I’m cumming!
He doesn’t stop. Even when you’re shaking and bent-half in now missionary, he sheathes himself inside you till his pelvic bone is crushed to your body. “You feel so good, I’m sorry… I can’t — can’t stop, baby…”
“Don’t. Don’t stop, it’s a-alright.” You heave out, interlocking fingers as his glistening cock disappears into your used cunt. “It’s a l-lot, but it’s okay.” Eddie’s body engulfs you, your heels digging into the dimples in his lower back as he pounds into you. “You’re such a good — good boy, fuck…”
“Yeah?” He bites your throat. “Say.” The under-swell of your boob. “It.” Your arm. “Again.”
“Good boy. Such a good boy, fucking me the way I deserve.”
“Fucking you like you’re a slut.”
“Fucking me like I’m not the girl next door…” You chuckle, breathy and airy before he knocks the wind right out of you. “The whole town is gonna call me a w-whore for once.”
“Suits you better.”
You swear your soul leaves your body. You’re dying. You are dead, nearly limp in his fumbling boyish hands as he cradles your head against his chest and wipes the sweat from your eyes like he loves you. His balls slap against your loosened rim, his thumb putting pressure on your clit until you’re frantically pushing him away. 
“I can’t cum again. I can’t.” You sob in pleasure, clawing at his tattoos as if they could save you from his insatiable hunger. “Eddie!”
“Need it, need your cum again, Y/N.” Eddie growls, thrusts stuttering and cock pulsating wildly before he’s spitting onto your sex as if you needed to be any more wet. “I-I think you’re so… so fucking cool, you’re just… you’re too good for me, but I fucking adore you.”
I adore you.
I adore you.
You can’t even talk anymore, vocal chords ripped right out of your throat as your stomach cramps, cramps, cramps and then drops to a low point. Crashing. Flatlining. Clenching hopelessly.
You nearly choke Eddie as a hand flies out to touch him, pulling him close as your walls trap him for a second time. Only now, he’s locked in tight, unable to move, unable to go anywhere and he fucking cums immediately because it’s just too inviting. You feel him seeping out of you, painting your holes with his sticky cum as he stills there like a good boy. He grunts against your lips, kissing you poorly as his orgasm eats him alive. 
He’s milked. Spent. 
Eddie collapses on top of you, one leg jutted straight and the other bent as he embraces you close with his whole weight resting on your frame. How can he already miss something he just had? Gaining your strength, you kiss down his shoulder, fingertips swirling over muscle and scar tissue and ink as the smell of him floors you.
It’s so Eddie. Woody, earthy, with a spicy fresh top note reminiscent of oak moss and a hint of gasoline, dry cedar and herbs. It makes you dizzy in the best way possible. He’s drenched in the girlish smell of sex, sweat and salty but you’re eager to taste him anyways.
My good boy, you think. 
“Are you okay?” Your voice comes out raspy and winded, almost sickly but Eddie knows it's a good-sick. 
“Yes, yeah. I just… need a sec.”
“Hm, don’t take too long, Munson.” Shit. Is this over already? Just like that? “Might get wet again.”
Oh. It’s a joke. 
And he laughs, wheezy and exhausted as he irritatedly tugs his own hair out of his mouth. “You’re gonna be the death of me, ma’am.” He leans back on his hinges to properly look at you, your cheeks rubbed red-raw from his teeth and your abused, achy cunt still stuffed full of his prick. “Are you okay?”
“I’m alive.”
“Barely.”
“Barely.” You repeat heartily, shaking your head at him with a look of bewilderment. “S’gonna hurt when you pull out, you know.”
“Are you telling me to stay here forever?”
“If you admit that you like The Cure, then yes…” You bite your lip, drumming your fingers against his wrist. “… I’ll let you stay there forever.”
Forever. You both push down the giddy, cheesy smiles that threaten to spread across your faces. 
“Never. Never ever.” Eddie chuckles. When he tenderly and patiently pulls out, a wet rush slowly floods out of you, his fingers frantically plug you shut — his thick, translucent cum dripping from his knuckles as he selfishly fucks his hot spill back into you like the perv he is. “But that can stay there forever.”
A freak, but not in the way Hawkins thinks.
You melt at the feeling, limbs spasming awkwardly as he spreads himself over your pussy distractedly. His eyes are so goddamn soft, kind, attentive — even when he’s pushing some of it into your poor asshole, he’s still the sweetest guy you’ve ever hooked up with. 
He kisses your clit before he lovingly hikes your panties up your legs. 
Fucker.
“Did I ruin you, sweetheart? Awfully quiet.”
You scoff, shimmying into your shorts and camisole as Eddie tucks himself back into his boxers. “Just wondering how you expect me to climb back into my window after all that.”
“Who said anything about climbing…” He laughs boisterously, leaning over and fixing the strap of your bra. “What do you say I walk you to the porch, ring that bell and introduce myself to mom and pop?”
You stare at him like he’s crazy.
“Absolutely not, Eddie Munson.”
He finds himself liking the suburbs a lot more.
Only this time, he doesn’t imagine himself surrounded by picket fences and golden retrievers, mailboxes with his last name painted in unreadable cursive or having to mow his front lawn at seven in the fucking morning. 
Eddie doesn’t need to when Hawkins’ slice of paradise is just next door. 
And he gets to taste it every fucking day and night. 
So, fuck it. He’ll climb your window so you don’t have to wobble back to your house with his cum dripping down your leg. He’s a gentleman, railing you in the abandoned parking lot of Starcourt because you can’t handle the embarrassment of getting caught by someone at home. He’ll cover your mouth in the shed in your backyard so the neighbors don’t complain about the howling coyotes that have gone loose in the neighborhood. 
God forbid they have coyotes, right? 
But really, they should be worrying about the devastatingly gorgeous girl next door and her favorite, good boy with a dwindling hatred for The Cure.
Even though, the album is growing on him.
He’ll never admit that, though.
27K notes · View notes
runa-falls · 9 months
Note
I saw that you think Miguel is a thigh man 😩 can I request him x reader who's thighs clap when they run or so some type of activities. I got that problem sadly 😵‍💫😮‍💨
yes, of course!! i love talking ab our thigh fucker ;^)
cw: body insecurities, thigh chafing (yeouch), fluffy reassurances, small bit of smut (OK IM SORRY 😳 i didn't see that coming [yes i did.]), just oral and uh, a bit of marking, not proof read!!
---
you've never enjoyed prolonged physical activity: running, swimming, biking, etc, because you hated the way your thighs would slide against each other; uncomfortably chafing your skin and making noticeable sounds.
so when miguel proposed a hike for your weekly date, you were hesitant to agree. unfortunately, he's very good at persuading you...
that's how you found yourself on a narrow trial shrouded with trees, taking slow, cautious steps as you attempt to keep your thighs from touching as much as usual.
of course, it only helped so much. your inner thighs were still chafing and getting sore, but you try to conceal your pain as much as possible, too embarrassed to mention anything to miguel.
though your boyfriend is the most loving and accepting man you've ever met, you still haven't told him of your insecurity. you're afraid that once you mention something to him, he'll notice your thighs even more.
miguel is pacing himself, making sure to slow down with you so he doesn't leave you behind (he does this hike all the time). he adjusts his baseball cap, making sure his wild curls are smooshed down as he watches you walk toward him.
you look beautiful today. you always look beautiful. but there's something about see you in this condition that make him twitch in his shorts.
he loves the way your chest heaves as you take deep breaths, your tits pressing desperately against the thin fabric. how droplets of sweat roll over the contours of your cleavage, outlining what he wants to see the most. and how your leggings look like they were painted on, completely revealing the overwhelming softness of your thighs and how they press so sweetly together.
he can barely take his eyes off of you.
but he can't help but notice how odd you're acting too.
he's perplexed as to why you're taking such big steps and moving like you'd rather be anywhere but there, with him. why your face is tense, yet completely blank at the same time.
there's clearly something wrong, but you've been silent this whole hike.
"baby, you doing alright?" you seem to be lost in your thoughts as you stare down at your dirt-scuffed sneakers, you don't even notice he's stopped in front of you. he calls out to you again, "babe?"
"hm?" you look up, pausing your unnatural movements to give your legs a rest, "oh, yeah...i'm fine" you attempt a smile, but even you can tell it looks fake and performative. his eyes bloom with concern as he notices how your legs are shaking under you.
"what's going on, sweetheart? are you hurt?"
"no...it's just," you look away, still apprehensive to mention anything.
he pushes, hand reaching for yours, "just what?"
"i-my thighs are chafing..." you say softly, looking back at him. he's frowning. "b-but i can keep going!" you start walking again, willing yourself to continue even though it hurts.
"baby, wait," he stops you, "don't hurt yourself. i didn't realize you were having trouble this whole time."
you shrug, "it's ok, i'm used to it."
"sweetheart, come here." he has his back turned towards you, coaxing you over to him. "get on."
"get on?"
"i'll carry you back to the car."
"no! you don't have to--"
"i want to." he interrupts, "then when we get home, we'll take a nice bath and get you all patched up."
"what about the rest of the trail?"
"we can just get our work out in at home..."
---
you sigh as warm water washes over the inflamed skin of your inner thighs. it stings sharply, but the pain feels oddly satisfying, especially as miguel thoroughly lathers shampoo in your hair.
"feel better?"
you hum, eyes closing as his fingers attentively massage your scalp.
"why didn't you tell me that you were hurting earlier?"
"i dunno, it just wasn't that big of a deal, mig."
"it was. you were barely able to sit without your hands between your thighs."
you snort, "i thought you liked it when i do that."
you yelp when you feel him tug sharply at your hair. "you know what i meant." he growled, clearly unhappy you're trying to avoid the subject.
"it's embarrassing."
"what's embarrassing?" his hands start to cup water onto your head, washing the suds from your hair until you're squeaky clean.
"my thighs." his movements stop suddenly.
"what about them?"
"they're...too big."
"too big?" he genuinely sounds baffled, almost scoffing in disbelief.
"yeah, they're always touching and they make this...clapping sound when i do certain physical movements..."
"so?"
"so?" you turn your head to look at him, questioning eyes meeting his scarlet stare. his red irises are mere slivers with how blown out his pupils are, heavy with lust.
"yeah, so what?"
"so...i don't like them." you voice is small as you look at him shyly, cheeks blooming with heat under the stringiness of your wet hair.
"well i love them."
---
miguel presses gentle and sweet kisses over your tender skin, relieving all the pain from your chafed inner thighs with just a touch of his lips. your legs are hooked over his shoulders as he makes his way up your body.
the prominent shape of his fangs press against his top lip as his sharp maroon stare fixes right at the apex of your thighs. you can tell he's holding himself back by the way his fingers grip bruises into the tops of your legs.
"baby, you have no idea," he takes a deep breath, eyes closed as his nose nuzzles at your inner thigh, "how fucking perfect you are."
"mig, please!"
he smiles cloyingly, letting you watch his fangs retract before he dips his head closer to your center. he wouldn't want to hurt you...
he locks eyes with you when he experimentally slips his tongue through your soaking lips, only giving you enough attention to keep you buzzing. he's delicately laving against you, feeling you tense and pant under him as he slowly builds up your pleasure.
a haze of lust instantly clouds over his darkened eyes and you watch as he gets lost in the taste of you. he pushes in deeper, tongue fucking you, slurping and sucking, while spilling muffled groans over your pulsing cunt as your thighs begin to tighten around him.
he flicks over your aching clit, drinking in your whimpers, moans, and cries as he teases you, pulling back every so often until you bury your hand into his curls and force him down onto you.
you're nearly suffocating him with your thighs when he start suckling you into his mouth, muscles trembling against him as you grow closer to the edge, and he loves it.
his silky lips and slick tongue push you straight off the edge. you hold on to him as your body writhes with white hot pleasure, hand in his hair and thighs around his head. you can barely hear the muffled groans he makes from how lost in ecstasy you are.
but he groans, and grunts, and then freezes.
"did i just..." he unwraps your legs from around him and sits up, tugging his briefs down in disbelief. your bleary eyes open, eyes glazed and unfocused from the intensity of your orgasm. "shit."
you look down and are graced with a beautiful mess that drips from his cock and the black fabric of his boxers.
you can't help the amused smile that spreads over your lips, "you need some help cleaning that up?"
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eternity-death · 2 months
Text
Penacony Reactions to you spanking them
No TW’s I think. Just sillies being silly. Established relationship with Reader in all these hc’s.
—————
Hanabi
Head snaps 180° at you and you scream.
She’s traumatized you and now you will never do it again.
This doesn’t stop her from getting you back, though. And she’ll do it in public to make it worse. It’s not a one-and-done deal either, it becomes a regular thing.
You’ve just sentenced yourself to a life of sore-booty and humiliation. Was it really worth it?
Black Swan
Stares at you.
Her expression is a little hard to read and the longer she looks at you the more you feel implored to apologize.
She’s not mad though, she’s actually rather amused. And she’s getting even more entertainment by watching you squirm.
Eventually she gives and just chuckles. If you’ll allow her, then she’ll give you a nice tap on the butt too.
Sampo
He does that one goofy (Mickey mouse) scream.
Very animated reaction. Jumps 10 feet off the ground and covers his behind. He looks back at you like a kicked puppy but you know it’s all fake.
Sniffles and says smthn like, “How could you do this to your best bud, Sampo?”
Gets you back when you least expect it. Like you actually scream bloody murder because your guard is down and you can’t hear him sneak up on you bc he’s light on his feet. It doesn’t matter if you’re in public either. Be very afraid.
Aventurine
“Woah! Getting a little frisky, eh?”
If you’ve got something separating you two like a chair or a counter, he will chase you around it to reach you. Spanks you back, harder, with zero hesitation.
He starts tapping your butt as a regular thing afterwards. Almost like a greeting.
“Hey babe.” Then a light slap. When he feels extra mischievous he’ll grab it.
Acheron
You are unable to slap her booty because she catches your hand before it makes contact.
Just kind of looks at you and goes, “What are you doing.”
You explain to her that spanking is a sort of gesture between close companions. She doesn’t quite get it but decides to just go with it.
Later on, when she greets you, she strikes her hand down on your behind so hard that your teeth clatter. She asks if she did it right with such a hopeful tone, that you can’t find it in yourself to tell her that shattering someone’s pelvis is not part of the gesture. (When she does find out that she’s hurt you she apologizes deeply and coddles you)
Dr. Ratio
Lets out a high pitched yelp.
Gives you the most scandalized look and defensively rubs his tush.
“Did you really just do what I think you did?”
Strategizes a way to get you back. He has a blackboard with physics equations for the perfect angle and fall of his hand, pinned papers and calendars with your schedule and his, etc. He’s terrible at hiding his intentions too. When the time comes for his revenge you already anticipate it. What you didn’t anticipate was how strong he was. You guess those biceps aren’t just for show.
Firefly
Why would you ever? What kind of monster are you?
She yelps and just stares at you; hands covering her behind, face flushed, and her mouth agape.
Apologize.
Sam
You have a death wish.
Another one who catches your hand before you can spank. He just puts your hand back in your lap and goes, “No.”
He actually just doesn’t want you to hurt yourself. His… butt… isn’t very soft, you see.
If you want him to, he’ll lightly tap yours back.
March 7nth
Gasps and launches herself at you with full intention of getting you back.
It turns into a chase, where you run in circles around the gazebo until she gets too tired and gives up.
You laugh about it but later forget. Little do you know, March has been scheming ever since.
“AHA!” You feel a harsh slap against your behind and yelp. The vendor you were talking to looks at you and your girlfriend as if you’ve both grown an extra head. She laughs victoriously, “See? I told you payback was coming!”
Robin
“Oh!!!” Gasps and covers herself. She’s a little freaked out at first but once she see’s it’s you she giggles.
You don’t really expect her to spank you back but she does. With the same amount of force that you used.
It kinda escalates into a competition where you two see who can land the most spanks in one day. Just don’t do it in front of her brother.
You’re losing btw.
Sunday
Do NOT spank him in public. He will be very crossed with you. Not funny did not laugh.
You may proceed with the spank if you are in private though.
He actually squeaks when you do. Then once the initial shock wears off he laughs, incredibly amused by you. Doesn’t say it but he plans on returning the favor.
When he does get you back you don’t expect it. You’re probably cooking or marking off the calendar when he passes you and goes, “Good morning, my love.” And then he slaps your butt. Moderate strength, enough to make you yelp but not enough to sting.
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multi-fandom-imagine · 2 months
Note
If you don't want to write this it's completely fine
Could you please do Adam, Husk, Lucifer and Alastor (separately) x fem!reader who is going through *that* time of the month and how they'd try to help? (Love your writing btw)
A/n: you're so sweet, thank you.
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Adam:
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Mind goes right to sex, he heard it helps so why wouldn't he wanna help his girl.
"It's alright beautiful." Adam gave you a wink tugging you close to his chest. "A little blood doesn't bother me."
Really tries, goes to Lute if he see's you are in pain. He does not like seeing you in pain, will honestly try.
Will get any food you want and eat it with you, think's you're the hottest thing to hit heaven and will tell you that. { is low key scared you'd leave him for Lucifer }
"You're so sexy babe, want me to message your tit or thighs? I can do that."
Adam nuzzled his nose into your neck. "I can make you feel good."
Husk:
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Will offer to get you drunk to numb the pain sin e he really does not know how any of that shit works.
Husk would let you cuddle into him if you are in pain. You love how soft he is, how warm he is, he is like your own personal heater.
If you are horny, Husk would step up to help you with the problem. Like Adam, he takes no issue with the blood.
Won't ask anyone for help, want's to do it himself and though he may mess up a little he does his best to try.
"Need a drink.?" Seeing the scowl on your face, Husk stepped out from behind the bar to give you an awkward hug. His nose pressing into your neck as his paw slowly ran down your message your stomach.
"I'll make you feel good."
Lucifer:
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Is the one that know's the most about period's due to Lillith and Charlie.
Would do anything to help you, go all out to make sure you feel good. You're his number one priority.
"Need anything Princess? A heating pad, something to take the pain away? Sweets? Or do you prefer something savory or salty?" Lucifer stepped close to you taking your hand in his. "Anything you want, it is yours."
Giving him a weak but tired smile, you shifted your body on the bed. "How about a nice cuddle."
"That I can happily do." Sliding in the bed next to you, he nuzzled his nose into your neck.
Finds out you become more fertile when you are pregnant, will practically beg for sex.
Alastor:
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Is in between knowing more than Adam and Husk but knowing less than Lucifer. Since he care's about you will offer to help with what you need. He can't have his little doe in pain now can he.
Makes someone useless to grab an essential that you might need.
Hates that your blood drives him a bit crazy, you smell better than before.
"Now why are you up?" Alastor gave you a large grin tilting his head to the side. Stepping towards you, he placed a finger under your chin so you were looking up at him. "Can't have you wandering around when you smell so delicious."
Lets you sit with him while he does his radio broadcasts, you look so cute when you sleep.
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jobean12-blog · 3 months
Text
Had to be You
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader (enemies to lovers ish)
Word Count: 2,270
Summary: You and Bucky have been going at each other for months. He's grumpy and defensive. You're sassy and frustrated. Steve's had enough. So when Steve steps in to do something will it work? Or will it makes things worse?
Author's Note: At this point all I want is for Bucky to kiss me senseless for the rest of my life (and do everything else) but really. Kisses. Yes please. Anyway. Thank you so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰
Warnings: some light mead comsumption, angsty ex talk, tension but softness, happy ending
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“STEVEN GRANT ROGERS! You get back here right now and open this door before I kick your ass!”
Steve’s chuckle only makes you angrier. “I’ll open it when you two make nice.”
“STEVE!” you screech.
His retreating footsteps have you banging your forehead into the thick metal of the door, muttering curses under your breath.
“Please tell me Stark has some hidden exit in here somewhere?” you sigh.
“I’m going to kill Steve.”
When Bucky’s speaks his first words since you got locked in the gym together you spin to face him, eyes hard.
“Get in line Barnes!”
“Hey, look at that kids, you’re agreeing already!” Steve’s voice rings out from down the hall.
With that last remark everything goes silent other than your frustrated huffs.
“Is this actually happening?” you whine. “Can’t you just break the door down?”
Bucky’s blue eyes stare blankly and you grow more agitated.
“Why the hell did he do this?”
You glare back in his direction, hands on your hips. “Because of your sunshine and rainbows attitude toward me!”
You spit out the words, letting them drip with sarcasm.
“MY attitude?” Bucky grits out as he sticks a finger in his chest. “Doll face. I’ve been nothing but a perfect gentleman to you.” That same finger spins to point at you now.
You face him fully and take a step closer.
“Grunts do not equal a greeting and barely answering questions and barely making conversation definitely does not show your gentlemanly side!”
Bucky opens his mouth to retort but you continue on. “And what about avoiding me all together!? What the fuck is that about?”
He runs his large hand through his hair and squeezes the back of his neck, setting his lips in a hard line.
“Fuck. Please tell me there’s still some of Thor’s mead in here,” he mutters.
“Why the hell would he leave alcohol in the gym?” you ask, your brows nearly hitting your hairline.
With a shrug Bucky starts moving about and searching under things. “He likes to ‘get drunk’” and he makes air quotes as he says it, “and then show us how he can still lift heavier weights.”
You can’t help the laughter that boils up and over but you quickly cover your mouth when Bucky gives you an unamused look.
“Here it is!” he chimes, seeming far too relieved.
You move toward him as you watch him take a swig from the bottle, the muscles in his neck shifting with every swallow.
“Save some for me,” you say quietly and hold out your hand.
He smirks.
“Careful doll. Too much of this and I’ll have to carry you out of here.”
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As more of the mead circulates through your body you start to relax marginally, thoughts of killing Steve slowly fading.
Bucky has been sure to keep your consumption under control and other than feeling less murderous and calmer you’re lucid.
“So,” you muse. “It doesn’t look like Steve is coming back any time soon. And we’ve been quiet. No yelling or fighting.”
Bucky simply grunts in agreement.
“SEE!” you nearly shout. “That’s exactly what I mean. I say something and your answer is a grunt…WHAT. THE. FUCK!”
While waiting for his explanation you notice a slight pink flush to his cheeks and you find it hard not to throw him a triumphant smile.
Deciding to let him off the hook for now, you ask, “how long have you known your best friend is insane?”
To your surprise, Bucky laughs. A real laugh that has his eyes crinkling and his nose scrunching up.
You try not to stare too long but you find it difficult to look away.
“Are you drunk Barnes?”
His eyes meet yours and the corner of his mouth twitches with a boyish smile.
“You’re full of questions tonight doll. And for the record it takes a lot more than this to get me drunk,” he admits as his smile widens.
He shifts in his spot on the floor, his long legs now stretched out in front of him and you can’t help but focus on his thighs and the way his jeans pull tightly over the thick muscle.
“Who knew all we needed was a little alcohol to not fight.”
You chuckle and hold your hand out for the more.
He shakes his head no and places the bottle down on the floor before leaning forward.
“I don’t want to fight with you. Ever.”
At his admission, your expression hardens.
“Then why are you so….so… unfriendly?” you ask.
“Why are you always so sassy?” he shoots back. “Seems to me like you’re the one always looking for a fight.”
His answer makes you sigh.
“I don’t see you doing that to Barton or Steve…hell anyone else!” he adds.
He waits patiently, his eyes trained on you and his body straining forward.
With more nonchalance than you feel, you confess, “you’re kind of my type. And my dating track record sucks. So…you know…”
You motion to him. All of him. His long legs, broad shoulders, hard chest, sculpted arms and his perfectly handsome face.
Stunned, Bucky stares for a second too long and too fiercely.
Heat starts to tickle your skin as you feel your body react to his focused attention.
“Are you…” he starts, before clearing his throat. “Are you telling me that you’re attracted to me and that’s why you hate me?”
The tension is thick, stretching between you for many long seconds before you wrench your eyes away and look down at your hands.
“I don’t hate you.”
Your words are quiet and the next sentence that passes your lips is even softer. “I just have a hard time trusting men.”
When he doesn’t say anything you look up at him and see the hurt etched across his features.
“Are you sure it’s not just me you don’t trust?”
At his question, the realization of what he’s implying hits you and you immediately slide closer to him and reach your hands toward him.
“No Bucky. That’s not it at all. In fact I trust you with my life…just not necessarily my heart.”
When he continues to study you, his features softening, but doesn’t speak, you add. “It’s not your fault. Really.”
“I want to know why.”
“Why what?” you ask.
“Why you don’t trust men.”
His jaw is tight and his fists are clenched in his lap.
He’s clearly distraught over the fact that you’ve been hurt and you’re sure he’s thinking the worst. It melts you more and you want to reach out and trace the hard line of his jaw to reassure him.
“It’s not anything that bad. I’ve just been hurt. A lot. And not just in romantic relationships. Friendships too.”
He scowls. “In what ways?”
You shrug like it’s nothing.
“What is there to say? The first real relationship I was in ended when he found something better. He told me when we broke up, ‘why would I say with you when I can do better’.”
“That motherfucker,” Bucky fumes as he opens and closes his metal fist, the whirring metal sounds momentarily distracting you.
“Yeah. But that wasn’t the last. My boyfriend after that I found out was sleeping with my friend. Or I thought she was my friend.”
“Fucking hell. Please tell me you’re kidding.”
He stands slowly, visibly agitated.
“And we haven’t even gotten to my last boyfriend yet. Better sit back down.”
“I’m too fucking pissed off to sit,” he growls.
“Honestly, it’s more my fault. I knew I shouldn’t have dated him. He was just like the rest and when my friend sent me a video of the two of them fucking I was hardly surprised.”
You couldn’t look at Bucky anymore and you dropped your eyes.
“Guess I’m just not good enough to stick around for.”
“Fuck,” he exhaled. “Doll.”
He sat down in front of you, forcing your attention back to him.
“Please don’t tell me you really believe that.”
You give him an exasperated look. “After being dumped three times you kind of start to believe it.”
Suddenly, he kicks at one of the weight machines, making the metal creak and bend then he falls to his knees in front of you and takes your hands in his.
The smell of him surrounds you and you have no where to look but into his eyes.
“These men,” and he spits out the last word. “Fuck that, they aren’t men. These pieces of shit have no idea what a gift you are and they don’t deserve you. They deserve a fucking beating.”
“Bucky.”
You squeeze his hands. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” he counters. “Tell you the truth? Tell you that you’re gorgeous, sexy, smart, and kind.”
His eyes drop to your mouth and he licks his lips.
“Hardly kind,” you scoff. “Look how poorly I treated you.”
He reluctantly drags his eyes from your mouth and determination hardens his gaze.
“Nah doll face. I get it now. And honestly, a lot of that is on me. I couldn’t understand why someone as perfect as you wanted anything to do with me. I put up my defensives the only way I know how.”
You whisper his name hoarsely and run your thumb along his jawline.
His eyelashes flutter against his cheeks and he exhales.
Even if you wanted to you couldn’t stop the way your body moved closer to his and when he slides his hand up your arm and around the back of your neck your lips part in a gasp.
Just as you feel his warm breath tickle your skin the lock on the door turns and Steve calls your names.
You quickly pull away with wide eyes, shooting one last look at Bucky before you lift your eyes to Steve.
He stares between the two of you and then at the half empty bottle of mead.
“What…?”
“Nothing,” you and Bucky say at the same time.
Bucky jumps to his feet and holds his hand out for you.
You take it and let him pull you up and into his body. Your chest brushes his with your every breath and you’re right back where you were just seconds ago…under his spell.
It only takes a moment for your past hurt to flood back and wash away the desire you’re feeling and in the next breath you’re mumbling goodbyes and rushing off.
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When Bucky finally finds you the next day the apology you’ve been wanting to give him spills out.
“I just want to say that I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting.”
He takes a step closer to you, crowding you against the door of your room.
“I really appreciate that doll, but I should be the one apologizing to you. I’m sorry. For everything.”
“Thank you.”
It’s all you can manage to say with him so close to you.
You can feel your pulse jump and when you hear the moving metal plates in his arm you look down at his hands to see them clenched into fists at his sides.
“Bucky?” you ask.
“I’m having a really hard time not touching you,” he explains in a pained whisper.
“Oh,” you breathe out.
He closes the space between you and your back hits the door. He slowly lifts his hand, caressing your cheek with his thumb and then slowly sliding his fingers down to stroke your neck.
The gentle dominance in his touch sets you on fire and you lean into him.
“I’m scared of getting hurt Bucky.”
The words tumble out and you start to drop your gaze but he stops you with the press of his fingers under your chin.
His eyes harden and he doesn’t speak.
You whisper his name, your voice shaky.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m just talking myself out of hunting every one of your exes down and skinning them alive.”
His voice grows with anger and you press a soft hand to his hard chest.
“They aren’t worth it.”
“You’re worth it.”
Taken aback by the intensity of his words you stare into his eyes, their blue color filled with longing and fierceness.
“Fuck doll. You have no idea how fucking gorgeous you are, do you? I can hardly catch my breath.”
Your hand shoots to your mouth and you quietly inhale, nibbling your bottom lip to stop the smile that wants to break out across your face.
“Do you want me to go?” he asks.
You drop your hand from your lips and reach for him. “No.”
He tilts his head and inches closer, his mouth lightly brushing yours.
Your fists clench the front of his Henley and your eyes close at the light press of his lips. You stay like that, trying to remember to breathe.
He pulls away only enough to stare at your mouth and then traces his thumb across your upper lip.
“What is it?” you ask with a worried tone.
His thumb falls to your lower lip and he gives it the same attention, savoring the softness.
“Why won’t you kiss me?”
He drops his hand from your lips and as his fingers fall they trace the outline of your neck before his hand wraps around the back of it and he brings you impossibly closer.
“I’m worried that once I start…” he breathes against your lips. “I won’t be able to stop.”
When he presses his lips to yours he groans low in the back of his throat, his hands desperate to get you closer.
The way you taste, the feel of your lips, your gasps and moans…he can’t stop.
He can’t stop.
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@hiddles-rose @randomfandompenguin @kmc1989 @goldylions @blackwidownat2814 @buckysdollforlife @littleseasiren @lizette50
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cod-fishing · 4 months
Text
“Would you want to be buried with your family, Si?”
Simon looks over at Johnny, eyebrows raised at his lovers random interjection. He gives him a once over, eyes narrowing a little bit, trying to find what could have possibly brought that question on. Finding nothing, Simon turns back to his book.
Johnny watches him scan a few lines before replying. “Can’t.”
Johnny’s brows furrow. “Why not?”
“They thought I was dead,” he replies simply, almost absentmindedly as he flips a page. Johnny’s confusion only grows until,
“Washington got your spot,” he says with dawning horror.
Simon says nothing, just humming an assertion. Johnny finds himself in a position he is in far, far too often as Simon’s closest confidant- utterly horrified, while Simon shrugs, already having worked through it with a therapist years ago, and numb to the sheer tragedy.
Simon turns another page, and Johnny breathes through the instinct to start screaming. A man who betrayed him, tortured him, and killed his entire family. Buried in his families plot, where Simon deserves to be someday. Where Simon was supposed to be able to fucking rest, someday.
Eventually, when he’s more in control, Johnny opens his mouth again, and it only comes out a little bit grated.
“So if you die, what would you like?”
Simon snorts at the ‘if’, and finally looks back at Johnny, considering him.
“What do you want?” Simon asks simply.
Johnny just looks at him for a second. Blinks, licks his lips. Opens his mouth to tell the truth, but pussies out at the last second.
He cracks a smile, but Simon can see the way it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Ah, I dunno. Just curious.”
Ghost considers the obviously bullshit answer, but decides to allow the out, turning back to his book. They lapse into a comfortable silence, Johnny going through his gear for their mission tomorrow, Simon flipping through his novel.
“What made you ask, anyways?”
Johnny stops in his movements, and looks over to Simon. The room is technically his, as the commanding officer, but it's strewn with evidence of Johnny’s place in his life. Clothes, notebooks, weapons. His shave kit in Simon’s bathroom, cause the lighting is better, and because its pretty nice to have Simon walk up behind him with a soft touch to his back while he cuts his hair, making sure he hasn't missed anything and leaving him with a kiss pressed to his shoulder.
"I'm thinking about retiring," he blurts out.
Simon looks over, and blinks.
"And…and I want my ashes scattered in the highlands. Unless you want to be buried next to me," he says, feeling out of breath at his confession. "That would…that would be good too,” he near-whispers.
Simon puts down his book.
“But if you wanted to be with you family, I could probably rob the grave and get Washington out of there, and put you back in. I’ve done crazier stuff.”
Simon’s mouth curls just a bit. “Come here, Johnny.”
He hesitates, for just a moment, feeling raw and vulnerable. But Simon pats his thigh, and Johnny could never resist that call. Curling up on Simon’s lap, he hides his nose in his neck, wrapping his arms around the broad shoulders of his best friend, his lover.
Simon embraced him back, pulling him close against his chest. They stay there for a moment, tension slowly draining from Johnny, and eventually Simon whispers.
“I’ve had it in my will that burial rights go to you for a year already. And as for retirement…”
He pulls back, and Johnny does to, looking into his warm eyes, shockingly open in this moment.
“You let me know when, and I’ll follow.”
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rafeandonlyrafe · 3 months
Text
daddys home
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words: 1.8k
warnings: 18+ only!, smut, establish relationship (theyre married!), dad!rafe, mom!reader, p in v sex (protected), female receiving oral, mentions of pregnancy/breeding, readers stretch marks are described briefly
“when is daddy getting home?” your daughter asks for what feels like the millionth time since rafe left for work this morning.
you sigh, rubbing your forehead, hoping it alieves your splitting headache. “any minute now, poppy. why don't you go get a cup of water for him and leave it on the counter?”
you know that the task will occupy her for some time, having to drag her step stool that she uses when helping you cook around the kitchen to get a cup and fill it.
you let out a breath of relief when you hear rafe pull into the driveway.
“daddy! daddy!” poppy hears the noise as well, running to the garage door, jumping up and down excitedly as she waits for rafe to come in.
she jump-tackles him as soon as he opens the door. rafe laughs, catching her in his arms.
“hi baby.” he presses a kiss to the top of her head, toeing his shoes off onto the mat.
“welcome home.” you say, moving over to rafe, pressing your face into the shoulder that poppy isn't currently resting hers against.
“you okay?” rafe whispers into your ear, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. he sets poppy down carefully, only half listening as she begins to tell him about getting rafe a water all by herself like a big girl.
“yeah, she's just been… a lot today.” you sigh, wrapping your arms around rafes waist, snuggling into his warm body.
“hey, poppy. wanna spend the night at aunt wheezies?” rafe asks.
“yes! yes! yes!” poppy screams, quickly flying up the stairs to her room with her unstoppable toddler energy to pack a bag.
“thank you.” you look to rafe, taking a moment to press a kiss to his lips.
“wheeze has been begging to have her over, she'll be so happy.” rafe says, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “and you can get a real break.”
“god, i need it too.” you laugh, pulling away from rafe but not before giving him another kiss. “i love poppy to death, but she can be so exhausting some days.”
“aw, baby.” rafe coos. “why don't you go get in the bath, ill help poppy pack a bag then take her over the wheezies.”
“mmm, sounds perfect, can't wait to spend a night just us.” you wink at rafe before both heading further into the house and up the stairs. poppy has had a string of clinginess lately, especially at night knowing you and rafe are just down the hall, so she fakes nightmares to sleep in your bed.
it's nice having her so close, but at the same time you haven't been intimate with rafe in months.
“poppy.” you call into her room, seeing her stuffing pajamas into her backpack. “you be good for auntie wheezie, okay? ill pick you up in the morning and if you behaved, we can go to the park.”
“okay, mommy.” poppy nods, a serious look on her face.
“daddy is gonna help you pack then take you over.” you finish, looking to rafe.
“thank you again babe.” you whisper, rubbing your thumb over his cheek before heading towards your bedroom. you turn on the hot tap in the master bath, letting the jacuzzi tub fill as you scrounge in the cabinets for your epsom salt.
you let out a groan when you sink into the bath, eyes closing as you relax into the hot water, your muscles finally getting a break after entertaining poppy all day.
you relax in the bath until the water starts to turn room temperature. you pull the drain before getting out, toweling yourself dry. you go through your skincare routine quickly before pulling your robe on.
you exit the bathroom to see rafe on the bed, back against the headboard, having changed out of his work clothes to sweats.
“was she excited?” you question.
“poppy or wheezie?” rafe jokes, a soft smile on his face. “both of them were so excited, but i think wheeze might have more fun than poppy does.”
“that's good.” you laugh before taking a deep sigh.
“how are you feeling now?” rafe asks, swinging his legs off the side of the bed. you move to stand in front of him, letting your knees press into the side of the mattress.
“a million times better. no more headache.”
“good.” rafe tugs at the strap on your robe, not hard enough to undo it, but making his intentions clear. “wanna lay down?” 
“just lay down?” you smirk, raising one eyebrow.
“if that's what you want,” rafe takes your hands in his, bringing your knuckles up to his lips, pressing kisses along your skin. “mrs. cameron.”
“i want you.” you tell rafe, taking your hand out of his grasp to tug your robe open, revealing yourself to him. you slide the fabric off your shoulders, letting it drop to the floor.
“you're so beautiful.” rafe says, eyes sweeping over your naked body. he rubs a hand over your stomach, the small lines running over your skin, the physical reminder of your pregnancy.
“this part of you is the most beautiful.” rafe leans forward, kissing the stretch marks. “because it shows that you carried our daughter. kept her safe inside you for nine months until he she was ready to see the world.”
“you're gonna make me cry.” you sniffle, feeling tears start to form.
“wanna make you cry a different way.” rafe says, standing up suddenly while turning you swiftly, pushing your hips down so now you're the one sat on the edge of the mattress.
rafe sinks down to his knees, spreading your thighs open for him, revealing your cunt.
“you know-” you gasp when rafe begins to kiss along your inner thighs, inching closer to your center. “i was worried when i first got pregnant that you wouldn’t be attracted to me after i gave birth.”
“really?” rafe questions. “why would you ever worry about something as impossible as that?”
“pregnancy brain.” you shrug, eyes fluttering closed as rafe spreads your thighs further, wrapping his hand around your ankle and bringing your heel up onto the bed.
“well, mrs. cameron-” rafe leans in, licking a stripe straight through your folds. “no need to worry anymore, i find you very attractive.”
you smile, bringing one hand to rafes hair, clutching it between your finger as he dives in, tongue swiping through your wetness, tasting you on his tongue. rafe works his way up from your entrance to your clit before lapping over the sensitive skin there.
“taste so good mama.” rafe hums, letting his tongue flick and play with your clit. you let out a cry, glad that you’re able to be as loud as you want with poppy out of the house.
“more.” you whine.
“all these years later, carrying my baby and you're still my little slut.” rafe tsks, bringing his finger to your entrance and plunging it in, thrusting in and out slowly as his lips wrap around your clit, giving gentle sucks to build you up, tease you.
“can’t wait for you to fuck me.” you toss your head back, pushing your hips even further into rafes face.
“yeah, you miss my cock?” 
“all the time.” you whine, bringing your other foot onto the bed as well, spreading your knees wide open to give rafe even more space to work into you as he adds a second finger.
“you think after being married for five years you’d be sick of me.” rafe jokes, but you shake your head.
“never, daddy.” the nickname impacts rafe differently now that he is actually a dad, knowing it comes from a different place.
“god, i was gonna have you cum on my tongue three times before i fucked you, but i need you too badly.” rafe stands up, but not before pressing another kiss to your clit, now puffy and red from the attention.
rafe hesitates before reaching for the nightstand drawer, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by you, but before you can comment on it, he is removing his clothes and rolling the condom onto his length and lining himself up with your cunt. 
he rubs briefly through your folds before pushing in, sinking into your pussy. you let out a loud moan, unafraid to get interrupted by your daughter as rafe copies your moan right back.
“such a perfect pussy for me baby.” rafe coos, beginning to pump his hips forward. you wrap your legs around his hips as he leans forward, pushing until your back is resting against the sheets. he hovers over you, pressing your lips together. 
you moan into his mouth, moving your hips up and down in sync with his thrusts. your bare chests are rubbing together, yours still slightly damp from the bath. your nipples catch as rafe moves, making you whimper.
“so big.” you cry out, hands moving along rafes back, feeling the cords of muscles as they stretch with his movements.
“filling you up real good, huh?” rafe smirks, cocky that he can still get you in this state just from his dick.
“so good.” you turn your head to bite rafes earlobe, tugging on it. “you know,-” you gasp when rafe speeds up. “this is the same position we were in when i got pregnant with poppy.”
you remember the night well, when you ran out of condoms and decided together fuck it, were married, and you were blessed with your little girl soon after.
“yeah? want me to take the condom off mama? fill your belly up again?” rafe asks, moving a thumb to your clit, rubbing it quickly.
“yeah, daddy, yeah i do- fuck!” your back arches off the bed as rafe pumps faster, your body quivering as his thumb strokes you to orgasm, the tightening of your cunt causing him to spill into the condom.
rafe breaths heavily, hips slowly grinding into you as you work through your highs.
rafe pulls out as you try to stop your deep gasps of breaths. he pulls the condom off and tosses it in the trash can before climbing back onto the bed, flopping down next to you.
“were you serious?” rafe asks.
you don't need any more context to know exactly what rafe is referring to.
“i wouldn't mind having another baby.” you say honestly. “besides, poppy will start kindergarten in around a year, so think about in around nine months having another little one.” you feel yourself already beginning to tear up at the thought, wiping a tear from your cheek.
“oh, baby.” rafe coos, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling you into him. “well, since poppy is still at aunt wheezies…” rafe trails off, moving his hand from your waist lower to cup your pussy. “we can get trying right now.”
“it only took you one try for poppy.” you remind rafe, slinging your leg over rafes body, twisting yourself to sit on top of him, rubbing your cunt over his length.
“yeah…” rafe places his hands on your hips, flipping you over so your back is against the bed. “but maybe i want more than one try.” rafe says as his cock slides back inside of you.
taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude
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urhoneycombwitch · 3 months
Note
eddie who's cynical and grumpy only because he hasn't had proper aftercare. most people just roll over or leave when they're done and those that do stay to cuddle, it's Eddie holding them and never the other way around. He doesn't want to admit that it makes him feel dissatisfied afterwards, like the sex wasn't even worth it, because he got laid, that's the point, why complain? But there's just something... missing (and I figure aftercare wasn't as talked about in the 80s so he isn't really too sure what that something is)
Until a night with reader where they have absolutely mind-blowing sex, parting with heavy breaths and as Eddie's heart rate starts to slow back down to normal again, he's waiting for reader to grab their clothes, roll over on their side, something that breaks the connection and makes his heart drop. But they don't, reaching out a weak hand (because they're sluggish waiting for their soul to return to their body) to rub his arm. A gentle back and forth, which feels nice, but Eddie's suspicious. What is this, why are they doing it, and why does it feel good?
And then, "Can I play with your hair?" (from the muse prompt lol) and he's agreeing with a shrug and when reader starts to card their fingers through his curls and massage his scalp, Eddie melts. It's like a whole brain recalibration. His icy heart getting thawed out just because someone made sure to take care of him too. And if reader wakes up earlier in the morning just to ask how he likes his eggs? Eddie's already decided that he's gotta lock them down.
+18 mdni
cw: p in v sex, cockwarming
It’s you tipping over the edge into orgasm, choking his cock with your velvet walls, soft whine spilling from the back of your throat, that takes Eddie with you.
As he comes, he burrows his face into your neck. Your hands reach for his skull to draw him closer, and he unintentionally bites down a bit too hard on the soft skin of your neck.
You let out a gasp, fingers seizing in his hair, and he’s quick to pull his mouth up, kissing and soothing over the spot he’s left with his teeth.
“Shit, sorry, sweetheart,” he pants, the affection slipping out despite himself.
“It’s’okay,” you mumble out in one word, limbs going to putty, hands extricating themselves from his hair.
Eddie rises to his elbows and moves to gingerly pull out but you stop him, fingers flying up to dig into the meat of his biceps.
“Wait, can you- will you just stay in? For a little bit?”
You’re not kidding, he can tell- you’ve got a wounded puppy look that he’s dying to change. Eddie sinks slowly back into you, rotates his hips a bit so you take less of his weight, and settles his head on your collarbone.
A big, dreamy sigh, from you- like you’re perfectly content because of how close Eddie is.
His eyes flutter shut when you begin tracing light lines with the pads of your fingers over his bare back.
“What’cha doin’?” Eddie murmurs into the skin of your sternum.
Up his spine, circling under the curtain of hair against his neck, down the spine again; looping and rhythmic. Your hands don’t slow as you whisper “Lovin’ on you, weirdo. Hush.”
You can feel the well of his dimples against your skin as he smiles.
“Can I play with your hair?” you ask quietly, and before he’s even finished nodding you’ve got both hands winding into his dark locks.
You start gentle, thumbs at his temples, light touches against his scalp, but when your hands find the roots you give a short but hard tug.
The little flash of pain goes straight to his dick, and he bucks into you with a low groan, half filled-out already.
“You gonna give me another pretty mark to look at?” you purr.
Eddie lifts his head from your chest and grazes his teeth into the opposing side of your neck just below your ear, in tandem with a sharp snap of his hips.
He catches your clit beneath his thumb and grins wicked when you moan, pulling up again to look down at you as he says, “Gimme another one of your pretty orgasms and we’ve got a deal.”
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