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#so I’m not gonna pressure myself to keep it up
panthermouthh · 7 months
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And I said, “Hello, Satan
I believe it’s time to go.”
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icezansky · 3 months
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just wrote almost 2000 words on a completely new fic
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astrolynnworld · 3 months
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no space
pairing: chris x reader
summary: you’re lapped up on chris in a crowded car and he starts to lose control of himself
warnings: smut! intoxicated, sneaky, dry humping, teasing, hold the moan, dirty talk, clit play, nipple play, cum in pants.
a/n- the request was dry humping but i added plot ofc. and i LOVE it
word count: 876
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since matt was the designated driver, he often had to take a lot of people home.
so it didnt come as a surprise to me when i had to lap up onto chris so we could all fit in the car
but, this wasn’t a big car at all. neither was it a tall car, i had to shrink down into chris so my head wouldn’t be hitting the roof of the car
this induced me into putting all my weight onto chris. i couldn’t carry myself lighter to avoid any irritations
not to mention that my initial body placement was seated on his crotch area.
i was gonna sit on his knee..
but i had to move over to close the door and didn’t want to create another commotion by getting back up to sit on his knee
so i just sit there.. on his crotch, trying to keep still to not splurge a reaction
even though i was turned on by the idea of trying to keep quiet in a car full of people as he grinds into me
the car ride was mostly silent as everyone was too drunk and dazed to really carry out a conversation
i daze off out the window as while chris rests his head against the seat and closes his eyes to relax his mind
The roads in our town are very old so there tends to be a lot of speed bumps, potholes, and rough grounds.
i never really was struck by them until matt had driven over the first speed bump.
in response to the car going over the speed bump, my body bounces up for a split second before plopping back down
i hear chris groan as the added pressure to his area shocks him.
i try my best to ignore what just happened as i feel my face start to heat up with embarrassment
no more than a few seconds later, matt takes a sharp left turn at a yellow light
causing me to tilt over into the window, creating more motion that sparks a reaction out of chris
“sorry” matt sputters out as a response to his reckless driving
i adjust myself back upright and i continue to try to hold myself still
that is until i start to feel the imprint of chris’s bulge beneath me, lined up with my ass
i try my best to ignore this
until chris starts to place his hands on both my thighs, pulling me into him a little more
i feel start the heat between my legs as he adjusts his body to sit upright
at this point everybody in the car is all relaxed and laying on each other, fake sleeping.
chris sits up and leans into my right ear
“try not to make a sound” he whispers before playing a soft kiss on the back of my neck
he uses my thighs to slightly pull me back and forth into him without creating a scene
i start to slowly grind my hips back into him as he glides his hands from my thighs to my stomach
he bends down into my neck and starts to bite my ear to hide his pleasure
i relax my head into the crook of his neck as the friction starts to take ahold of me
i keep my pace steady so it continues reign unnoticed by the others
his hands continues to trail up from my stomach and he places them in my bra
starting to tug and play at my nipples as i continue the grinding sensation
i turn my head into his ear and softly whisper “keep playing with me.. please”
i feel his cock twitch at the innocence of my voice that was laced with seduction
he takes his right hand out my bra to slides it into my pants and underwear
where he starts the circling stimulation of my clit as i further grind into him. left hand still teasing my nipple
i bite my lip in order mask the moans that fight to come out so bad
at this point, i realize that matt could probably see us through the rear view mirror and we weren’t as slick as we thought we were being
but this doesn’t stop me from fucking into the pleasure of chris’s hand.
i start whisper into his ear again
“don’t stop chris.. i’m gonna cum if you— just. don’t. stop” i try to speak as my eyes flutter back into my head with my mouth left open, breathing heavy into his ear
he starts to softly buck up into me as he the pace of his fingers circle faster
i close my legs tightly as i feel the warmth of my body spring out an orgasm
chris’s body freezing mid thrust as gently sits himself back down and rests his head back against the seat once more
he removes his hands from my body and starts to lick the fingers that was playing with my clit
“did you just cum in your pants?” i whisper to him as i stare at his tongue that laps around his fingers
“mhm.” he nods as he clears the coat of juices
“fuck.” i say before turning forward and resting my body into his chest
———————————————————————
taglist: @cutiepatootie36273 @secret-sturniolo @sturns-blog @sturniolo-2003 @mayaaatok @sturnswrites @mattsleftnipple03 @mattybswife @tropicasturn @princessbetsy123-blog <333
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maybank-archives · 2 months
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caught - jj maybank
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⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
warning: +18. NSFW CONTENT. MINORS DNI. sex. language. public sex. oral sex
word count: 1.4k
author’s notes: hi!! look who remembered the password to this blog!!! it's been a chaotic but gooooood couple of months, kinda fell out of my obx phase but I'm back and I miss writing sm!!! so to all my horny babes here's a unpublished piece (that was unfinished since october) hope yall enjoy!
masterlist | join the taglist |
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
every time you and JJ were caught.
occupied —
my back is pressed against the wall, JJ holds me tightly, his lips are pecking and biting the side of my neck as he buries himself inside of me. JJ’s hands cover my mouth as his thrust becomes faster.
I didn't even get the chance to get in the shower, my shorts were stuck on my knees, same thing with JJ. I suck him for 5 seconds before he pulls me on my feet and fuck me against the wall.
“y/n did you lock yourself?” Sarah’s voice rasped on the voice
I press my lips together concentrating on giving her an answer, but as JJ keeps pounding into me, I’m pretty sure she can hear my muffled cry.
“I’m gonna come princess, shit,” JJ whispers in my ear
“I…oh gosh, I'm good,” I squeeze out
JJ presses his body closer as he gives me his last thrusts, I look at him and see him control himself not to curse as he fills me with his cum.
“Are you sure?” Sarah insists
“YES,” that was for jj, who cupped my pussy and drew his fingers on my clit.
“for fucks sake, is JJ there with you?” I hear John B. shout at the door
He gives a little chuckle before giving the door a few thumps “Can no one get laid in this house?”
“y’all are disgusting, there's a bedroom, you know?”
“oh my god”
you hear the rest of them say outside, but my mind is far away from this reality and it's focused on JJ giving me an orgasm.
hammock —
we're both spread out in the hammock. it started with a massage, I swear.
It's a massage… on JJ’s dick.
bringing the blanket outside was an unintentional good idea. I threw on top of our lower bodies as my hand accidentally started stroking JJ's cock.
his body joint under my touch, I gave him the perfect amount of pressure, tugging his wet foreskin and sweeping up the beads of precum at the tip.
JJ gasps as I bring my hands to my mouth, giving it a nice lick and stroking him down again. but faster.
I could feel him getting closer. his eyes shut tight, his arms around me felt tense, and then…pope exited the chateau facing us, laying static on our back. too late, he realized JJ’s expression and the motion of my hands.
“Ew guys, c’mon, we all used this,” he says turning his back to us
I buried my face in JJ's neck laughing.
volume –
shoving her bikini bottom to the side, I grip her hips as y/n settles on top of me, slowly sinking. I could die watching her bounce on my cock.
I palm her tits as she rocks back and forth, using me to hit the spot that makes her whine.
speaking of whining, we're lucky that there's no one home, cause we're definitely not using our indoor voices.
her palms planted on my chest, as she supported herself. her nails buried in my skin as she moans.
“just like that baby, let me see you come,”
The dirty request makes her fasten the pace and bounce in circles. I clenched my ass trying to hold the climax.
“oh fuck, jj.” she cries while her legs shake, that's my signal.
I flip us over and bury myself deeper inside of her. groaning, I gave her rough thrusts, feeling her squeezing me.
“fuck baby, don't stop j,” her sweet moans send a bolt of heat to my balls. I rise on my knees, angling her hips watching her pussy slide back and forth as she grasps at the bedsheets. 
“yes, yes,” y/n gives me one less moan as she milks my shaft. my muscles clench as she climaxes and I come right away, painting.
“oh fuck, y/n,” I grunt as my body relaxes
“ayo, glad y'all are done, 'cause I need to sleep,” we hear John B shouting as he bangs into the wall.
“oh…no,” y/n says, hiding her face with her palms.
“too late to be shy, cupcake,”
beach —
The tent was mostly in darkness, but the moon's glow peeked through. Y/N slipped in so quietly that I barely noticed. She moved around, and I could sense her doing stuff, but I was too tired to pay much attention.
I gave her a little peak and sure thing, her topless self was taking her shorts out, she was looking for something but all I could care about was the fact that she was only in her bikini, in front of me.
Yep, my dick is semi-hard.
“Can I help you, princess?”
“Sorry babe, I thought you were already asleep,” She whispers
“Luckily, I’m not, otherwise who would appreciate this view?” I told her, sitting up and trying to be as silent as her.
“Yeah, as if,”
“You’re so beautiful,”
“Thank you J” she replied still looking around 
“I think what you’re looking for is inside my shorts”
“Huh?” Y/N furrowed her brows as she analyzed my expression, I shot her a malicious smile which made clear my intentions.
“Our friends are literally right there,” She whispered again 
“You could be quiet?”
“Can’t guarantee,”
“But I can. Blow me, since you’re already on your knees,”
Y/N covered her mouth to stop the giggle, when she looked at me again, I could see that her mind was made and that it was in the same place as mine.
She adjusted herself in front of me and pushed me to the floor, slowly dragging my shorts out. She put her hair in a ponytail and held my cock in her hand firmly.
I could come just with the sight of her topless self in front of me. I’m leaking already, making her hand slide easily on my dick, I adjust myself and roughly remember that the sand is not that comfortable to be laid on. Still, Y/N lowered herself and closed her mouth around the tip, slowly sucking, and my hips snapped involuntarily. 
She sucked me deeper into her mouth, almost to the base, I have to use all my force to not let a groan leave my lips when she chokes on me. Y/N keeps her pace slow but firm, I guess to not make any “suspect” sound.
My breath is heavy and my eyes shut, she releases me and I look down as her tongue glides along my hard-length cock.
“Fuckfuckfuck Y/N” I quietly curse
She uses both of her hands to stroke me and give my balls a nice squeeze, I can see her gaze darkening, she’s getting off and seems to be fighting off the urge to not ride me.
I know this look. I give her a signal to come closer.
“What?”
“Let’s fuck”
“No, not here.”
“I have the keys to the Twinkie,” 
“Then what are you waiting for?” She murmurs, cleaning the sides of her mouth, she slid into one of my shirts and I pushed my shorts back, exiting both of us, half-naked.
We successfully sneaked out and the only sound around us was the waves, I grabbed her hand and guided us far from the sand. 
As I open the doors, I look around and lock it behind us.
It all happened too fast, I slipped my tongue in her mouth and she desperately climbed on top of me, my shorts were now stuck to my ankles and Y/N’s bikini bottoms were pushed to the side.
Reaching for it, Y/N aligns my erection into her entrance and sinks in it.
Both of us let out a moan, feeling the pleasure fill our bodies, Y/N fastened her pace, bouncing on top of me, I’m too close for her, any minute I’m out, but since my girl is getting there I hold as much as I can.
“Mmm yes JJ, touch me”
I lifted my shirt out of her body and sucked and licked on her buds, she was bouncing and grinding her clit on me, it’s noticeable that she is getting there. The gasps and the nails digging on my tights confirm that.
With my free hand, I hold her waist and meet her halfway through her movements, each deep thrust sends me closer and closer to the edge. I can’t hold it any longer. Her moans are desperate and her whining is music to my ears.
“Y/n, fuck…”
Our breathing grows as our bodies slap together, and her mouth opens without making any sound, that’s my cue. I burst inside of her as her body shook on top of me. My last pound is weak leaking out of her.”
“Fuck baby, that was insane.”
“Thank God for the Twinkie.”
“More like than God for m-”
“JJ, I’m gonna kill you.” John B's voice echoes outside as he bangs the Twinkie door.
My bad, I guess.
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✧˚ . taglist ˚✧ (join here): @loverofmarsss | @jjmaybankisbae | @zxmbiegxrl | @hoeforstarkey24 | @itsme-98-blog | @everydaydreamer
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
© maybank-archives 2024 — no one has permission to copy or translate any of my works, if you see any of my work being reproduced in another platform please contact me! :)
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roanniom · 1 year
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About this post, he would like know all the little known tricks too, like he’d pick up guy and girl-targeted magazines in order to gain as much knowledge as possible. The man is a nerd, he’d absolutely read up on giving a girl head. He knows the ‘come hither’ motion, he knows how to pay attention to the clit, he knows about pacing, and you bet he knows about the ‘seven pleasure points of women’ from Friends.
Critical Hit
Virgin!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, fingering
I’m just imagining Eddie Munson looking at you naked for the first time and just freezing. You think it’s cute and so you’re all gentle and sweet and encouraging and you just lay back and let him explore you.
But within 0.5 seconds he’s got his fingers in your pussy and his mouth on your tits and he’s sucking and thrusting and rubbing and you are writhing beneath all the attention.
“I thought you didn’t know what you’re doing!” you accuse with a yelp, eyes rolling back in your head.
He pulls off your breast with a pop and looks at you with a furrowed brow and wet, pouting lips.
“I have no idea what I’m doing!” he insists anxiously. But his fingers keep fucking you and your legs try to close in on his hand, back arching off the bed.
“What the fuck, Munson! Are you hustling me? I’m - mmm - it’s been like five minutes and I’m already - fuck!”
He perks up at that, using the hand not inside you to pet at your clit. The pressure is irregular but somehow exactly what you need??
“You’re already what?” he asks. Incredulous and eager and way too much like a puppy. “Do you mean you’re gonna cum?”
“Fuuuck…” you whine, dragging a pillow over and covering your face with it, really in order to bite into it. You feel embarrassed about being so easy for him, and for assuming he’d be some lost teenager when it came to your body. Virgin or not, Eddie Munson was playing you like one of his guitars and you were about to snap.
“No no don’t hide! That’s not fucking fair,” Eddie all but whines like a petulant child, tugging at the pillow till you let go of it weakly. His eyes blow wide and his fingers pick up the pace on your sopping wet, clenching pussy. “Are you…are you drooling? Cuz of me?”
You swipe at the errant spit left at the corner of your mouth from biting the pillow and frown.
“Shut up.”
“That’s fucking hot, Princess,” Eddie says with reverent awe. “You’re so fucking hot.”
You go to respond but can’t because he switches the direction of the swirl on your clit and suddenly you’re coming with a soundless moan that has you gasping open mouthed. Eddie waits patiently through your convulsions, staring at you wide eyed till you drop, spent, back into the sheets. Only then does he punch the air with his fist.
“That seemed like a critical hit of an orgasm if I do say so myself.”
“A critical…wha?” you pant, still not fully back to yourself yet. Left fuzzy and dizzy as you stretch your legs and savor the delicious ache.
“So in DND when you roll a natural 20 - ,”
You throw a pillow and smack him square in the face before he can say another word.
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coldfanbou · 7 days
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The First One is On The House
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Ningning fic once again a challenge given by @i-am-lifeform24
Length 2K
Ningning X Mreader
“Hello? Yes, I can fit her into my schedule. I should have an opening at 7. Later? I guess I could take her in after the show. Alright, I look forward to her visit.” You put the phone back on the receiver and walked back to the table; you were so looking forward to going home early for the evening when you got a call from that customer. You would've preferred taking the appointment for another day, but you wanted to keep your weekend free. You sit back in your office chair and stare at the ceiling before gazing at the clock hanging on the wall. Three hours, that’s how long you’d have to wait for your guest to arrive. 
Getting bored, you pulled out your phone and checked social media, seeing posts from stars from earlier in the day as they walked the red carpet for some fashion event nearby. You see a few of your usual clientele post pictures, liking them before moving on. Eventually, you get tired of that and begin some repetitive tasks, trying to seem busy as you wait for the client to arrive despite them arriving a couple of hours from now. 
Soon enough, you went back to looking at your phone, checking out photos from the event, and seeing the different kinds of people that went. You stopped on a picture of Ningning from the group Aespa when you heard the door open. It was your friend, a manager for various groups. “Sorry for getting here late. She just felt so tired during the show, and we thought it best to call you.”
“Just who is it? That they needed a massage so desperately? I could’ve had a nice evening for myself.”  
Your friend stands aside, letting his gues walk forward. “I’m sorry for making you stay late.” You recognize the woman as she bows her head; it’s Ningning. She was still in the same clothes you had seen in the picture a moment ago, a revealing short black dress that clung to her body.
You wave her off as you refocus. “It’s fine. Just prepare for the massage. I’m going to talk to your manager a bit.” You point the small woman toward a changing room and look back toward your friend. 
You see him heading out the door before you can say anything. “I’m going to get some food. I’ll be back in an hour.” 
“Hey!” The door shuts, and you’re left alone again. You head toward the window and watch him walk toward a nearby restaurant, shaking your head. “I’m gonna talk that guy's head off when he comes back.”
A small voice catches your attention, “I’m ready.” You turn back around to see Ningning covering herself with the towel provided. “Where did my manager go?”
“He went to go eat across the street. Anyway, please follow me.” You lead Ningning into one of the massage rooms and have her lie face down on the table. “I hope the clothing in there wasn’t too tight. I’m going to move the towel down now.” Ningning nods her head.
You move it down slowly, revealing the tan bra that was provided to all female guests who would rather not be naked. It was thick and padded, meant to be comfortable. Your eyes move down her back, noting her flawless skin. You lather your hands in an unscented oil, rubbing it in between your fingers before placing your hands on her lower back. You apply slight pressure on her back, dragging your thumbs away from the center of her body. “Did you have a good time at the fashion show?” 
“It was alright, but the chairs were so uncomfortable. My body started to ache from sitting in them.” 
“I see. Is there anywhere that aches specifically?” 
“I mean, my butt hurts,” Ningning says with a laugh. You just nod along, creating an awkward atmosphere. You kick yourself for not laughing at her joke. Continuing the massage, you move your way up her back, reaching her shoulder. You could feel the tension in them and increase your strength as you began to massage all the knots out. Ningning groans as she feels your hands dig into her shoulders and release the tension in them. “Ooh, that feels so good.” You focus your efforts on Ningning shoulders, and once they relax, you take a step back. 
“I’ll be moving down now.”
“That’s fine,” Ningning moans as she places her head on top of her hands. You move the towel up slightly, keeping her ass covered as you begin to work on her thighs. As you ran your hands across them, you could feel the toned muscles underneath. Working on the one nearest to you, you give her thigh a strong squeeze.
Feeling your hands move across her thighs, Ningning feels her body getting warmer. She used her hands to cover her mouth, struggling to keep her groans from filling the room. Your hands felt good; Ningning could feel a growing wetness between her legs as your finger brushed against the inside of her thigh. Her cheeks begin to turn red as you switch to the other side, starting the process over again. When you accidentally squeeze her thigh a bit too hard, Ningning couldn’t hide her moan—letting the long, smooth sound of her voice fill the room before catching herself. She buries her head in her hands, too embarrassed to look anywhere in the room. You try to ignore it and continue on.
Needing Ningning to turn onto her back, you finally speak up, “Ningning, I finished with your backside; I need you to turn over.”
“O-okay,” She turns herself over slowly, glancing your way. You began to massage her arms, and as you got to her shoulders, you noticed Ningning continually glancing at you.  Nearing her chest, Ningning groaned again. She rubbed her legs together, growing more aroused as your hands glided along her body. Moving down to her legs, you noticed the wet spot between Ningning’s legs, and she knew it too.
You tried to ignore it, but Ningning continued to rub her legs together as you tried to massage her. “I…I’m sorry.”
“There’s no need to be sorry. We’ll just stop here.”
Ningning grabs your hand. “Wait!” She let go briefly before grabbing your hand again. “I-is there any other services you offer?” You understand what she means. Ningning’s voice grew smaller as she went on. “I mean, I see in videos that sometimes masseurs offer special services. Is that an option here?” You were about to reply when Ningning placed your hand on her breast. I can pay you. I-my body just feels really good when you touch it.”
You had to admit that Ningning was a beautiful woman that you’d be lucky to have sex with, and you considered your options. You look at the clock on the wall; half an hour has passed. Knowing your friend, he’d likely be going for seconds right about now and want to take his time getting back. “Alright.” Ningning gives you a soft smile and lets go of your hand. You place it over her slit, the briefs she was wearing keeping your away. Still, it was enough to make her groan. Like the bra provided, the briefs were meant to keep customers more comfortable. Ningning stares at you with lustful eyes as she squirms on the table.  You snake your hand under the briefs and drench your fingers in her nectar as you slide your hands along her slit. Feeling your fingers touch her sends Ningning over the edge; you watch her toes curls and eyes shut as she cums at that moment. “I’m sorry. It’s my first time,” She mumbles.
“I…figured.” You reply as you begin pulling down the briefs. Ningning covered her face, her shyness taking over. You turn her body towards you before dropping your pants. Ningning’s eyes become glued to your growing bulge. “It’s not polite to stare.”
“It just looks so big.” Her comment makes you chuckle. You pull down your underwear, revealing your cock to the young woman. She reaches toward it without uttering a word; you feel her soft hand wrap around the tip. “It’s so warm…”
“So you’ve used toys?”
“...yes,” She says shamefully. 
“It’s natural, Ningning. No need to be ashamed, but let’s see how the real thing compares.” You tell her as you take a step forward and rub the tip of your cock against her slit. Ningning whimpers and stares at your cock as it runs along her cunt. You lean in, kissing her neck softly as you push your head against her cunt. She wraps her arms around you, holding you closely as she begins to fill the room with her moans. You feel her walls squeezing your cock as you push inside of her. 
“Ahh, hold on,” Ningning moans, her hands gripping your shirt. You stop moving, giving her time to adjust. You pepper her with kisses as you wait, softly squeezing her body. “You can move now.”
You push more of your cock into Ningning, watching her expression carefully. You see her shut her eyes and moan as you bury yourself inside her. Her walls are tightly wrapped around your cock, rubbing against the head. You begin thrusting slowly, holding onto her hips to keep her in place. Each thrust brings out more moans from Ningning.
The small woman holds you tightly, wrapping her legs around you as you thrust deeply into her. You could feel Ningning’s walls tighten around your cock, as she neared another climax. “I’m cumming again,” She whimpered. “I’m going to cum.”
You speed up your thrusts, making her cry out from pleasure. You feel her thighs squeeze your sides as she cums. You continue thrusting into Ningning, making her let out a high-pitched whine. Each one was driving her crazy as you overstimulate her. You force your tongue into her mouth as her eyes roll into the back of her head. 
Ningning’s arms lose strength. Falling onto her back, Ningning lets out weak moans. You revel in the feeling of her walls clamping down on your cock. When you feel your orgasm coming, you begin to slow down. You pull out entirely and turn Ningning onto her stomach. You press your cock against her cunt, holding onto her waist with one hand. You ram the length of your cock back inside the petite woman, slipping in with ease. As you drive your cock in and out of Ningning, you watch her ass bounce as it slaps against your body. “You’re so tight, Ningning. I’m getting pretty close to cumming.”
“Cum…” Ningning mumbles as her head bobs with every thrust. You feel yourself getting closer. Your hands dig into Ningning’s flesh. 
“Where do you want it?” You ask as you ram your cock deep into her cunt. Ningning doesn’t respond to the question, only repeating the word cum. You make the quick decision to pull out, knowing it would only cause trouble if she got pregnant. You pull out at the last moment, painting her back as you spurt cum onto her. Ningning feels the warm cum hit her back, groaning as her mind slowly returns to her. 
You check the clock; your friend should be back in a few minutes. You grab a few towels and wipe the cum off Ningning's back. “Your manager is going to be coming back soon. You better get changed.” 
“Manager?” Ningning slowly blinks as she realizes. He’ll be coming back soon. She struggles to stand up, and you’re forced to help her get into the changing room while you clean up. You wait by the entrance for her manager to show up, and soon enough, he appears. 
“I’m back.” He says with a burp. “Where’s Ningning?”
“You really didn’t hold back on eating, did ya? Did you get me anything?”
“Uh, no, sorry.” Ningning steps out of the changing room looking like she did when she first stepped foot inside, the only difference being her slightly frazzled hair. “Oh, there you are.”
“Sorry for the wait. I struggled with the heels.” 
“That’s okay. Let’s get you back to the dorms. Thanks for dealing with her.” Ningning nods her head and follows her manager out the door, picking up a business card before giving you a wink and leaving.
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waitimcomingtoo · 2 months
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How Do I Get You Alone? 2
Pairing: Peter Parker X Stark!Reader
Synopsis: you and Peter can’t seem to communicate effectively after the kiss
Part one
Masterlist
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“Honey, can you get that? It’s Peter.” Tony asked you when FRIDAY alerted you that someone was waiting in the lobby.
“And you want me to bring him up? Why can’t you do it?” You panicked over the thought of being alone with Peter after your last conversation.
“Because I’m the belle of the ball and the belle does not bring her own guests up from the lobby. She has other people do it for her. Plus, I don’t want Peter to see my outfit until he’s up here.” Tony explained as he adjusted his tie.
“You’re such a diva. And why do you also make yourself a girl in these scenarios?” You asked as you went over to the elevator.
“Don’t call me that!” Tony called after you. You rolled your eyes and took the elevator down to the lobby. Peter had been nervously fiddling with his shirt and did a double take when you stepped off the elevator. You smiled weakly at him and smoothed down your dress.
“Oh. Hi.” Peter said as his face reddened.
“Hi. Sorry, my dad asked me to come get you.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“Oh. Right.” You smiled tightly. “Well, come on in. Dinners almost ready.”
“What did your dad make?” Peter asked as you stepped into the elevator.
“Well, my dad hasn’t “made” anything since he found out there weren’t real raspberries in raspberry toaster strudels. But our chef made gnocchi.”
“Fuck yes.” Peter whispered to himself.
“What was that?”
“I said that sounds delicious.” He lied. You rode up in silence for a minute as you watched him. He was keeping his eyes on the ground and you could tell he wasn’t thrilled that you were with him.
“Look, Peter, I know you’re upset about the way our conversation went the other day and I really want a chance to explain myself.” You said as you stepped in front of him.
“You don’t have to explain anything. I understand.” Peter said calmly.
“You do?”
“Yeah. The kiss was a heat of the moment thing and you just want to forget it happened. And I am totally okay with that.” Peter said and forced a smile. It wasn’t actually how he felt, just something he had told himself to say to avoid anymore crushing disappointment or awkwardness.
“You’re okay with that? With pretending it never happened?” You asked and felt the same level of disappointment Peter had felt.
“Yeah.” Peter lied. “Why wouldn’t I be? I won’t hold you to anything you did during a high pressure situation. I think we both want to move on and pretend it never happened. So let’s just forget about it.”
“If that’s what you want.” You nodded stiffly and stepped to the side so that you could hide how disappointed you felt over hearing him say that.
“If that’s what you want.” Peter shrugged and suddenly felt unsure of his plan. He was no longer confident that he correctly guessed how you wanted to proceed.
“Is that what you want?” Peter asked quietly after a beat of silence. Before you could answer, the elevator doors opened to the dinning room.
“Peter’s here!” Tony cheered. “Come in, come in. Sit down. I hope you’re hungry.”
“Always.” Peter’s smiled graciously as he sat in the seat beside Tony.
“Aw. I know, kid. Times are hard.” Tony said sympathetically and patted Peter’s hand.
“Oh, no, not like that. I eat enough food at home.” Peter assured him.
“Aw, yes you do.“ Tony cooed and patted his hand again. Meanwhile, you were about to take the seat next to Morgan when Pepper sat down. Now the only empty chair was the one next to Peter and you were not about to make this dinner anymore awkward than it already was. Peter made eye contact with you and gave you a sympathic smile.
“Oh. Sorry, mom. I was gonna sit next to Morgan and help her eat.” You said and gestured for her to move.
“I can use a fork all by myself now.” Morgan said proudly and held up a spoon.
“That’s a spoon. I should probably just pull up a chair next to her.” You said and went to go grab another chair.
“Honey, just sit next to Peter.” Pepper said and gestured to the only open seat.
“Okay. I will. But not because I want to.” You announced as you took the seat.
“Sweetheart. Manners.” Pepper whispered to you. You took the seat next to Peter and avoided eye contact.
“I’m not being rude.” You defended. “I’m just saying that I’m only sitting next to Peter because I have no other option.”
“Have you two been spending time together? Because that’s 100% something Peter would say.” Tony laughed in amusement as you and Peter panicked.
“What? Spending time together? That’s crazy. Why would we do that?” Peter sputtered out while you nodded in agreement.
“But you went to Peter’s apartment a few weeks ago, right Y/n? You told me that when I asked you why you kept changing your clothes.” Morgan asked you.
“So you remember that but can’t remember not to put both legs in the same pant leg?” You sassed her.
“Woah. The girls are fighting. It’s okay, Morgan. Pants are confusing.” Pepper assured her youngest daughter.
“Oh, so is that why you were bugging me for his address for days? You wanted to visit?” Tony asked you, making you hang your head in defeat.
“For days, huh? You must’ve really wanted to find me.“ Peter smiled in amusement as he looked over at you.
“Oh, yeah. It was all she could talk about after the earthquake. She was begging me to find your addresses but all I could remember about it was that it was an old brick building with a very strange doorman. And that describes most apartment buildings in your neck of the woods. She eventually gave up on me and had FRIDAY track your suit down. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was trying to find you so she could go kill you.” Tony shrugged and took a bite of his pasta.
“And you didn’t try to stop her?” Peter asked him.
“I like to let my daughters express themselves however they choose.” Tony answered. “But why did you need to go to his apartment, anyway, sweet pea?”
“Because I wanted to talk to him but we never exchanged numbers so I had to drop in like it was the 1950s.” You said and hoped that would stop the conversation there.
“You never exchanged numbers? That’s not good. What if you needed to contact each other for an emergency?” Pepper pointed out.
“Yeah. You should do that right now.” Tony agreed and gestured between the two of you.
“Dad, I’m not giving him my number. We’re eating dinner. We can do it later.” You grumbled. Peter couldn’t help but smirk at seeing the brattier side of you.
“What if we forget? Come on. Just exchange now. I’ll feel better knowing you guys can reach each other in case of an emergency.”
“Fine. Here.” You sighed and handed over your phone to Peter.
“What’s with the animosity?”Tony wondered. “I thought you guys finally liked each other after the earthquake?”
“Like each other? We do not like each other. That’s ridiculous.” You insisted as Peter turned bright red.
“You don’t?”Tony frowned. “But you went on and on about how Peter protected you during the earthquake. And Happy said that you asked him to tell you anytime Peter called with updates.”
“You asked Happy to tell you if I called?” Peter couldn’t help but smile as he asked you.
“I just wanted to know if you were okay.” You asked quietly.
“I’ve been fine.”Peter shrugged. “There hasn’t been another earthquake or anything.”
“Oh, no. She asked Happy for that long before the earthquake. It was a couple months ago, right princess?” Tony asked you. You glared at him and wondered if he was doing this on purpose.
“Why would you ask Happy for updates on me months ago?” Peter asked with genuine confusion now.
“I don’t know, Peter. I don’t have all the answers. I’m not Bing.”
“Ew. Who uses Bing?” Tony grimaced.
“I do. Excuse me. I’ll be right back.” You said and abruptly left the table. Everyone exchanged looks but shrugged it off and went back to eating. Peter pushed his food around with his fork for a minute before excusing himself and going after you. He found you in your room, a place he had never been in before. You were sitting on your bed and hugging a pillow to your chest as you stared at the ground. Peter knocked on the doorframe and you jumped.
“Hey. I thought you might want this.” Peter said and held up your phone.
“Oh. Thanks.” You said sheepishly and held out your hand for him to give it back.
“No problem. You got a text, by the way.” Peter said with a smirk. You looked at him curiously before reading the text on your screen.
“How are things going with lover boy?” You read out loud with zero amusement in your voice. You looked up at Peter with an annoyed look and he just shrugged.
“That’s not about you.” You scoffed.
“Oh, it’s not? Is there a different lover boy coming over that I should know about?” Peter asked sarcastically and pointed behind him.
“No. Because you don’t need to know anything about me.” You snapped and got off your bed.
“I don’t know why you’re pissed at me. I don’t think I did anything wrong here. You’re the one who kissed me.” Peter pointed out, growing angry now.
“I know I was. And I’m so sorry because I can tell how much you hated it.” You said sarcastically.
“I hated it?” Peter laughed in shock. “You’re the one who said it didn’t mean anything to you. But don’t worry, I didn’t tell anyone about it. I know how much it meant to you that no one found out.”
“Peter, I don’t care if you told your weirdo little friend about our kiss.” You whined. “I only said that so you didn’t tell Happy or my dad or something.”
“Why would I tell your dad that we kissed?”
“You told my dad when your six piece chicken nugget had eight pieces.”
“But how would that have happened? They don’t sell eight piece nuggets. It’s either four, six, or ten. There is no eight nugget option.”
“Someone probably just put a few extra in your box on accident.”
“You sound just like your dad.” Peter mumbled.
“Can we please just get through this dinner and move on with our lives?” You sighed.
“Yes. That’s fine. I know how badly you want the dinner to end so that you never have to see me again.” Peter said with a roll of his eyes.
“When did I ever say I didn’t want to see you anymore?” You asked in exasperation.
“You’ve made it pretty clear.”
“Why are you so mad at me? What did I even do to you?” You genuinely asked him.
“You kissed me!” Peter shouted and pointed to himself. You fell silent for a moment at how desperate he sounded but then fired back.
“You kissed me back.” You pointed out.
“It’s not the same.” Peter shook his head and quieted down. “That’s not the same.”
“How is that not the same?” You shrugged and folded your arms.
“Because I liked you!” Peter raised his voice again. Your eyebrows went up in surprise as he retreated into himself.
“I liked you for years and you finally kissed me and then didn’t want to talk about it. You asked me to forget it ever happened.” Peter said quietly.
“But you’re the one who said it forget about it. You’re the one who said it was just a heat of the moment thing. You’re the one who said we should pretend it never happened. I never said any of that.” You said in a soft voice. Peter looked up at you and replayed the conversation in his head. When he realized you were absolutely right, he felt guilty for yelling at you.
“Well….yes.” He said weakly. You were both silent for a long time as neither of you knew what to say. You had been avoiding eye contact with each other until you stepped closer to him.
“You liked me?” You asked him.
“Yeah. I did.” Peter shrugged and looked into your eyes. He knew there was no point in taking it back now.
“Did?” You asked in a sad voice. “Did” meant that he no longer felt that way. Before Peter could answer you, Tony appeared in the doorway.
“Hey, are you guys gonna be eating dessert because Morgan’s been eying your cake and I honestly can’t promise it’ll be there when we go back. That girl is a beast.” Tony blew out a breath. You and Peter looked at each other for a split second before looking away.
“No. I’m gonna head out early.” Peter answered. “Thank you for the dinner, Mr. Stark. It was lovely.”
“Oh, I didn’t make it.” Tony laughed. “I haven’t made anything in months. Did you know that the raspberry in raspberry toaster strudels isn’t real?”
“Goodnight, Mr. Stark.” Peter smiled weakly at him and headed for the door.
“Night, kid. Tell your yummy aunt I said hi.” Tony called after him. You let out a sigh once Peter had left and sat back down on your bed.
“What do you think about Peter?” Tony asked now that Peter was gone.
“What? I don’t think about him.” You scoffed. “I wouldn’t care even if he broke all his legs and arms and had to wear a full body cast.”
Tony let out a little chuckle and shook his head when he heard this.
“What?” You wondered.
“Nothing. I just realized why I sought Peter out to add him to the team despite him having 0 experience and almost no discernible skills outside of being sticky.”
“Why?”
“He reminds me of my daughter.” Tony said with a fond smile. You couldn’t help but smile as well and nod your head.
“Daddy…” You began and trailed off. Tony took a seat beside you and patted your hand.
“I know, kid. I know.” Tony said with a sympathetic smile.
“Was it obvious?” You asked sheepishly.
“Yes. Neither of you are good at hiding things.” Tony replied. “Also, I watched the security footage in the lab from the day of the earthquake. I’m not sure how watching him wolf down baby carrots didn’t give you the ick.”
“I don’t know either. But it was just one kiss. It didn’t mean anything. And it’s never going to happen again. I’m pretty sure he hates me now.” You sighed and looked down at your hands.
“I don’t know about that. Did you know that every time he calls to update Happy about what he’s been up to, he asks about how you’re doing?” Tony asked you.
“He does?”
“Oh, yeah.” Tony nodded. “I wouldn’t worry about him hating you. But you do need to tell him how you feel. Annoying little nerds are all over this city, but ones like him are rare.”
“And you’ll be okay with it?” You asked skeptically.
“With you having a conversation with him, yes. But if a romance begins to bud and or blossom, I’m gonna have to have a word with him.” Tony informed you.
“Fair enough. I love you, dad.” You smiled and rested your head on his shoulder.
“Love you too, kid.” Tony replied. “Now let’s go eat some cake that someone else made.
A few days after the dinner, Peter returned to the tower and went straight to the robotics lab to continue working on something for his suit. He put his earbuds in and played his music so loudly that he never heard you come in. He only noticed you when you waved your hand in front of his face to get his attention. He burned bright pink as he pulled his earbuds out.
“Oh, hi. Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in. Here for another inspection?”
“No.” You said simply and Peter blushed a little at the implication that you were there to see him. You gave him an apologetic smile and he returned it to show that you weren’t there for another fight. You walked over to his side of the table and put one of his earbuds in your ears.
“What are you listening to?” You asked him.
“Oh, uh, just some indie song I found.” Peter shrugged. You pressed play on his phone and One Less Lonely Girl by Justin Bieber began to play in your ears.
“Oh. Yeah. Very indie.” You smirked and took the earbud out.
“His old stuff was really good.” Peter mumbled.
“Oh, I know. I still listen to “Somebody To Love” all the time.”
“Did you need something? Because I don’t think you came in here to talk about Justin Bieber.”
“I did, actually.”
“Oh.” Peter’s smiled dropped when he heard how serious you sounded.
“I’m kidding. Sorry. I meant to sound sarcastic but it came out really genuine.” You smiled in embarrassment.
“It’s okay. I hear thats a symptom of Bieber fever.” Peter said seriously, making you laugh.
“So, I wanted to talk about the other day. All three of ther days, actually. But it seems like you and I can’t have moments without getting interrupted.”
“Just like that girl in that Ben Afleck movie.” Peter said with a weak smile.
“What Ben Alfeck movie?”
“Girl, Interrupted.” Peter answered.
“Ben Afleck isn’t in that. Are you thinking of Gone Girl?”
“Are we gonna talk about the kiss or what?” Peter asked to change the subject.
“Yes.” You blew out a breath. “We are.”
Peter nodded and gestured to you to go first. You sighed and looked him in the eyes.
“When I came over the other day, I had a lot more to say then just asking you not to tell anyone. And the only reason I didn’t want you to tell anyone was because I didn’t want it getting back to my dad until we knew what we were. I didn’t know at that point if the kiss was a one time thing or if we were gonna be something more. I just wanted it to stay between us until I knew for sure where we stood. And I was going to tell you that I wanted to figure it out together and see where things went. But then I panicked and felt too embarrassed to explain all of that and then you looked so sad so I felt bad but then you made that joke about the seaplane and I could tell you onyl said it to make me feel better about making you feel bad so then I felt even worse and then your little friend came over and kept talking about TJ Maxx and I just had to get out of there.” You said all in one breath.
“Woah. That was the most amount of words you ever said to me at once.” Peter blinked in surprise.
“I know.”You laughed lightly. “And I’m not even done yet, believe it or not.”
“Go on. Before another natural disaster happens or a person walks in. And I honestly don’t know which would be worse.”
“Look, Peter, I never meant to make it seem like the kiss meant nothing to me. It did mean something. You mean something. I would not have kissed you if it didn’t mean anything to me.” You told him.
“So it wasn’t just a kiss just because you thought you were gonna die and needed some comfort and the only source around was your dad’s weird child friend?” He asked for reassurance.
“I did think I was gonna die.” You admitted. “I just didn’t want to die without ever getting the chance to kiss you. Which is something I had been wanting to do for a while.”
“It is?” Peter asked as you took a step closer to him and rested your hands on his chest.
“I don’t open up to people a lot. I don’t like letting my guard down. And I definitely don’t like having mushy feelings for some dumb boy that my dad found on YouTube a couple years ago.”
“Aw.” Peter said sarcastically.
“But I liked you. I have for a while.” You admitted. “And I didn’t think I could be the cool, collected, stoic bosses daughter if I had some schoolgirl crush. So I pushed it down and acted cold towards you while secretly wondering what your lips felt like.”
“And how did they feel?” Peter asked with a shy smile.
“Incredibly moisturized to the point they were almost slippery and I’m pretty sure whatever lipbalm you use has glitter in it because it was all over my face afterwards.”
“You’re welcome.” Peter smirked.
“And I’m sorry about the fight too. I had no idea how to act around you after the kiss and I kept making things worse.”
“No, the fight was my fault. I assumed you regretted the kiss and wanted to forget about it but never actually asked how you felt. I put words in your mouth and then got mad at you for them. I was just feeling emo that after all these years of pinning after you, we had a kiss that led to nothing.”
“It doesn’t have to lead to nothing.” You smiled coyly as you wrapped your arms around his torso. Peter took that as his cue to lean in and kiss you without the threat of a natural disaster looking over your heads. He couldn’t help but smile into the kiss as he put his hands on his face to pull you closer. When you pulled away, you rubbed your lips together to try to decipher the flavor of his lip balm.
“Cherry?” You asked him.
“Cherry Blossom Bliss.” He corrected. “The tube is pink and it’s shaped like lipstick.”
“I thought so.” You chuckled.
“So, what does this mean for us? Are we still keeping it a secret or should I call my seaplane guy back?” Peter asked you.
“I want to give us a try. I mean, we survived an earthquake together. I think we can survive telling my dad that we’re dating.”
“I think so too.” He grinned and leaned in to kiss you again.
“Wouldn’t it be funny if there was a tornado right now?” He asked once you pulled away. You threw your hands up in defeat and left the lab entirely.
“Come on.”Peter called after you. “It would be a little funny.”
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lovebugism · 1 year
Note
Virgin!Eddie thoughts?
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THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | quid pro quo
summary: eddie muson is a virgin and doesn't want anyone to know (because being an adult who's never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that. pairing: eddie munson / f!reader word count: 6.5k (holy shit this was supposed to be a blurb) warnings: talks of virginity and masturbation, the word "tit" too many times, a handjob (sorta?) 18+ mdni a/n: you asked for thoughts but i had way too many of them for a single post so i might turn this into a whole virgin!eddie series that will only see the light of day if you guys are into this so... no pressure &lt;3
( MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )
You were Eddie’s favorite customer, though that went without saying. It was something both of you were more than aware of. Albeit it, it was a little strange, since he — the supplier of your weed — was essentially paying for your high. He doesn’t mind it, though. He never did. You made it up for him in other ways; and, no, it’s not as perverted as it sounds.
It’s actually much, much weirder.
It was your fourth time meeting with him but your first time without any money to give him in exchange. You’re all pink and fidgeting and feeling like a total loser as you shift on the hard wooden bench across from him.
Your gaze is tilted away from his and down at your hands where you twist the rings on your fingers — “I was supposed to get paid last Friday, but my boss is paying me weekly now instead of every two weeks, so he completely changed my payday on me, and he swears he told me about it, but he totally didn’t— anyway, that’s beside the point. I don’t have any money to give you, or like, at all. Genuinely. I’m gonna be lucky if I get to eat anything other than top ramen for the next few days.”
“Damn,” he laughs, not in amusement at your situation but rather pitying you for it. “That sucks—”
“That sounds like I’m guilt-tripping you, doesn’t it?” you keep rambling. “I’m really not. I’m just trying to be honest. I’m not, like, trying to do you over or anything. I swear. You probably don’t even care. You’re my drug dealer, not my friend, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't— I’m making a total fool out of myself, aren’t I?”
“No, not at all,” Eddie assures sincerely, the hint of a smile curling at the corner of his lips. That’s all he can muster. He feels like the fool right about now because your words sting a little harder than intended. 
He always considered you a friend. Or, at least, a whole lot more than just a client. You’re the only customer he has fun with, who he can laugh with, who doesn’t just hang around long enough for him to hand you your drugs like everyone else does, who actually cares enough to make conversation with him.  
Maybe that’s why he chose to give it to you for free that day. 
Because he’s started to grow fond of you (and because he genuinely believes that you’re in a bad way and that money’s a little too tight for you right now. He knows all too well what that’s like.) 
But he asks you for a favor in return when you take the plastic baggie from him. It has him blushing with embarrassment like you’d been just minutes before. He can’t meet your gaze as he says the words, but he can feel the incredulous beam of it piercing holes into him.
“You, Eddie Munson, are willing to give me weed, for free, as long as I… help you pass your next English exam?”
You weren’t repeating it to mock him or to make him feel bad for being a third-year senior. You’re just actually shocked because you know a thing or two about the Munson’s. You know that his Uncle is working two jobs, and his nephew has resorted to drug dealing to compensate for their being strapped for cash. You also know that suppliers giving out anything for free is bad for business, so it’s essentially unheard of. 
And aside from all that, Eddie wanting to study — to want to try to be good at something rather than just winging it and hoping for the best — was almost as surprising as him wanting you to be the one to help him. You literally have Gareth, his best friend, in your English class, and he’s way better at it than you are.
You try to find what makes you somehow special but come up short.
“Is that, like, really weird?” he wonders meekly, scrunching his nose and peering at you through his lashes. His eyes are the color of chocolate syrup, you notice then. Like, exactly. And they have a sort of sheen to them beneath the sun, like he's trapped a star inside of them.
“Yes,” you answer with a laugh that's as light as air. “Considering you could’ve offered literally anything else. Like, I don’t know— groping my tits or something.”
It’s what you were half-expecting. Not because you thought Eddie was that kind of guy, but because that’s how it often went down, at least in porn. A busty (broke) blonde orders a pizza, a man with an enormous dick delivers it… It’s a tale as old as time, really.
Your words make him tense for the second time in five minutes. 
He almost wants to be offended that you’d think of him that way, but his yearning far overpowers his wounded ego.
He’s got a soft heart. That offer never would’ve crossed his mind, and even if it did, he’d never be stupid enough to say it out loud. But he didn’t realize how much he liked you until right then. It wasn’t just a friend caring for another friend, but a boy with a crush on a girl eons out of his league (with boobs he would happily touch if she’d let him).
He clears his throat and irrationally prays that you aren’t a mind reader.
“I’m down if you are,” he answers with a playful lilt to his voice that makes you giggle again. He’s happy to hear it. Your laugh is like being basked in sunshine. He wants to keep it in his pocket when he gets lost in the shade. 
That’s the moment that started it all — the strange friendship that formed out of practically nothing. Who knew what being poor, free weed, an historically low GPA, and a missed opportunity for tit-groping could do to two people?
From then on, all your weed was free. As long as you broke down all the themes in Of Mice and Men for him, of course. And then, when he ultimately aced that paper, he wanted to run his D&D campaign by you — “So, you know, it isn’t totally lame when I show it to the rest of Hellfire.”
“Of course, it’s gonna be lame,” you deadpan from across the rotting bench. “It’s Dungeons and Dragons.”
He goes red at that, a flash of pink blotched around his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. He glows cherry with embarrassment and smiles faintly as he looks down at his hand, fidgeting with his silver skull ring. It’s cute. Too cute. The kind of cute that makes you grin to yourself without even thinking about it.
“I’m kidding, Eds—”
Eds. That was new, the boy remarks to himself. Not the nickname itself, perhaps, but the fact that you were the one calling him by it. You’re getting more comfortable with him. He likes that. It gives him a false hope; that one day he’ll be a friend to you and not just your dealer.
“—It sounds really fun actually,” you assure him with nod and a twinkling gaze that proves you sincere. “As long as you’ll smoke with me during.”
“I don’t really like to use my own product…” That was a lie. Mostly. He didn’t like to smoke his own stuff because that burned a hole into his profits. But that didn’t mean he didn’t do it. It was far too tempting to have a tin full of so much weed never more than just a few inches away.
Now he’s got a pretty girl in front of him, wanting to smoke with him, wanting to spend time with him. Hell’s freezing over as they speak and that certainly calls for a celebratory smoke session.
A smirk pulls at his pink lips and he tilts his head, bringing his ear to his shoulder, as he looks at you with a glimmering umber gaze.
“But I’m willing to make an exception. Just for you.”
Eddie swears you blush at that, but he catches only the shortest glimpse of your crimson cheeks before you duck your gaze to the table. The beam on your face is only half-washed away, however, when you turn up to look at him again. You look shy, almost, as you peer at him through your lashes.
“You’ll basically have to start from scratch too, you know that, right? I don’t know anything about that shit.”
“Well, I’m glad I can be your first,” he quips.
You laugh again. It’s like the pinky-orange of a sunset. He could paint it if he had the right supplies. And a set of hands that were good for things other than rolling die and playing guitar.
It was his first time, really. In every aspect of the phrase.
It was the first time a girl’s ever offered to hang out with him and not the other way around. The first time a customer’s ever offered to share their weed with him. The first time someone’s ever wanted him to explain his favorite hobby and not care that he’s been rambling for the better part of an hour. 
He doesn’t even notice that he hasn’t shut up since he started talking, mostly because you aren’t giving him that look of annoyance people usually have when he hasn’t gotten the hint. Most couldn’t care less about goblins and villains and battles and knights and princesses — princess knights.
It’s more interesting than you ever hoped a board game could be, but less so as enchanting as the glow Eddie’s got about him as he rambles on and on about something that makes him so happy.
He’s beaming and he doesn’t even realize it. He has no idea he could light up an entire solar system with the smile on his face. You’d tell him if it didn’t feel totally inappropriate.
It takes two weeks to perfect the campaign, which isn’t at all long if you compare it to the year it took him to build it from scratch. When the Cult of Vecna (you pat yourself on the back for coming up with the name) is polished and Hellfire worthy, Eddie starts giving you weed... just because.
There’s nothing left for him to offer in exchange. And he isn’t going to turn his favorite customer down for anything.
“What? No tutoring? No D&D campaign?” you wonder with furrowed brows and a face contorted in confusion.
Eddie shrugs and swings the baggie full of greenery back and forth with the tip of his pointed finger. “Nope. I’m passing English and the campaign’s all finished — the guys love it, by the way. Thanks to you. You’ve helped me out with enough shit, so… just take it.”
“Well, now I just feel bad,” you reject with a scrunched nose, displeased at the idea of taking something and not doing anything for it in return. He can hardly afford it to begin with, much less without anything in exchange. “You're basically paying for my weed already. I can’t just take it.”
“You could,” the boy lilts with a sardonic nod. “My hand's getting a little tired here, sweetheart.”
You huff and reach across the bench for the plastic baggie. Your face is still twisted with an absentminded annoyance and your gaze still uncertain. “You sure it’s okay?”
“Yeah. Cross my heart.”
“Fine.”
“Unless groping your tits is still on the table, of course,” he squints playfully over at you and then smiles softly at the recollection of the conversation from many moons ago.
It was supposed to be a joke. But you’re not laughing.
And when you nod at him, he isn’t either.
It’s got him nearly choking on air and sputtering for a response. “No, I was— I was just— It was a joke. I was just kidding.”
“I know. But, I don’t know, I’m down if you are,” you shrug. “That’s what you said before, right?”
And Eddie has no idea what to say to that. Of course, he wants to. There are a billion things he wants to do. He wants to graduate, he wants to play a show at the Madison Square Garden with Corroded Coffin, he wants to bend you over this table and fuck you silly.
He could do all those things if he were a different person, but he wasn’t. He’s just some guy who can’t pass an English class he's already taken three times, with a mediocre band that plays in front of about five drunks (if they’re lucky), who has a crush on a girl who’s offering to let him feel her up for a short-lived high. 
He repeats that last part to himself in his head a couple times. It sounds like a dream he had once. He pinches the skin of his wrist, just to make sure, and winces when it starts to hurt.
It’s real, you’re real, and that’s the scariest part. 
Because he’s never actually seen boobs that weren’t projected from a television screen through the grainy film of a VHS tape, or pictured in a crinkled magazine he stole from a gas station — let alone touched one. And the second he puts his hands on you, and you feel him shaking like a leaf and totally unsure of what to do, you’ll know that. 
That is, if he doesn’t come in his pants first.
He’s terrified that when you do realize that he’s a complete and utter, absolute and proper virgin, you’ll think he’s significantly less cool. And he can’t have that.
It’s bad for clientele. They’ll stop seeing him as the mysterious metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks but rather as some teddy bear who’s never actually been inside a woman.
He could probably handle the potential drop in income and the talks around school. Hell, he could even handle all the shit Jason Carver would spew at him if he knew. But the idea that you’ll stop wanting to hang out with him — he isn’t sure if he could take that.
He doesn’t notice that he hasn’t said a word until you’re speaking again. And even then, it’s all muffled like he’s underwater. 
“I can come over tonight, if you want.”
No, he thinks to himself. That’s far too early. I have to lose my virginity and learn everything there is to possibly know about sex first.
“I... I can’t. Hellfire,” he answers, almost slurring, still caught in a stupor.
“Tomorrow, then,” you challenge at his rejection. You cross your arms and lean over the table as you squint at him. The wind rustling through the trees carries the warmth of your floral-vanilla scent over to him, like a lullaby, or a magic spell.
As though he needed something else to make him all stupid.
Suddenly you're ten feet tall. Eddie feels like an ant. You could crush him if you wanted. You have all the power and the look you give him tells him that you know that. He fidgets on the hard wooden seat but can’t seem to break your stare. His voice is tight and a few octaves higher as he answers — “Yeah. Tomorrow sounds good. Great, even.”
“Cool,” you’re suddenly beaming. You stand from the bench and saunter off, tossing a look and a wave over your shoulder as you shout, “See you tomorrow, Eds!”
He has to jerk off after that one. He counts himself lucky that he made it to his van before he exploded completely.
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Eddie has to become a sex god in twenty-four hours and he doesn’t know where to start. 
So, like any master procrastinator, he doesn’t. He just worries about it all night and the following day. He turns himself into a big ball of anxiety (if you touched him, he'd probably shock you) and it’s left him in the sort of worry that doesn’t let him sit still for too long.
Wayne’s sitting in his recliner, trying to eat his late lunch before he heads off to work the graveyard shift. It’s hard to enjoy his sandwich or the latest episode of Miami Vice playing on the television ahead of him when his nephew keeps bouncing in and out of the room. Making brief conversation, rearranging the knickknacks on the coffee table, coming in just to stand in place for a few minutes before leaving again to rustle in other parts of the small trailer. 
At one point, he comes in with the fucking vacuum and nudges at the man’s work boots until he kicks his feet up. Wayne’s never seen him do a chore in his life.
“What the hell has gotten into you today, boy?” the man complains through turkey, cheese, and bread.
“Nothing. What are you talking about? I’m perfectly normal.”
He’s never been normal a day in his life either.
Eddie disappears out of the room a second later with the whirring of the vacuum in tow. Wayne shakes his head to himself. “Boy’s gonna be the death of me,” he mumbles and takes another too large bite.
It’s unlike Eddie not to tell his uncle things, especially things weighing so heavy on his chest that they're starting to feel like pure steel. But his uncle doesn’t ask any questions, and Eddie’s grateful.
How the hell is he supposed to tell Wayne that a cute girl is coming over and that he’s jacked off three times at the thought of her?
Once in his bed, the first thing he did that day when he woke up from a dream about you that felt a little too real; the second in the shower when the cold water wouldn’t kill the boner he’d gotten; and the third in his bedroom, in the shirt he’d peeled off hardly ten minutes beforehand when he got into a bath. It made him feel dirty again though his skin was perfectly clean.
Wayne would think he was joking. At least with the “cute girl” part. He’d probably pat him on the back for the second one — “oh, to be young again,” he'd mumble to himself while simultaneously deciding to leave well enough alone.
Eddie’s so nervous he doesn’t know what to do with himself. 
You’ve got him practicing what to do in the mirror, trying to plan the conversation, ironing out the wrinkles of what might happen. “Hi—” he starts but then shakes his head and clears his throat. His voice is deeper as he continues, “Hey, how are you doing? Oh, that’s cool, I’m good too— shit, this is so fucking lame.”
He wonders how you’ll go about it. If you’ll offer first, or if he needs to ask. If you’ll make small talk or if you’ll just straight up take off your shirt. He’d take either, honestly.
He jerks off one more time, just for good measure, after Wayne’s left for work. He’s already tired and his dick is practically raw with how much it’s been tugged at, but he hopes it’ll stop him from getting hard the second you walk through the door. And he figures with the amount he’s come that day, he’s a whole less likely to do it in his pants when he touches you.
You knock on the door at 7 o’clock sharp, like you planned it down to the minute.
He straightens out his leather jacket when he stands abruptly from the couch. He rushes to the door and then hesitates with his hand on the rusted brass handle — because he doesn’t want to seem too eager, right? 
He leans to the side to look in the dirty glass mirror hanging by the coat rack, brushing through his curly locks in attempts to tame them. Then he shakes his head so they’re wild again.
He finds you standing on his porch in a tight-black sweater that dips down at your chest; the pendant of your necklace sparkles under the yellow nightlight perched on the outside wall. It’s paired with a white nylon skirt that stops at your thigh.
He’s only seen girls on TV in the suede boots you’re wearing — the kind that’s tight up to your ankle with a short and chunky heel. They match the color of your skirt. He wonders if they were expensive and how much you’ve worn them; they look brand new, like you’ve brought them down from the top of your closet just for him.
You’ve got a stack of thick tapes in one hand and a brown paper bag of snacks in the other.
“What… What’s all this?” he wonders, not displeased at your effort but shocked by it nonetheless.
“Thought we could have a movie night,” you shrug then slide by him and into the trailer. He shuts the door behind you and watches from afar as you set the sack down. It’s not quite flat on the bottom so it topples over and spills some of its content onto the coffee table — red hot chips and sour gummy worms.
“You mentioned that you’d never seen Fast Times a couple weeks ago, so I decided to go rent a copy at Family Video, right? And then I started talking to Robin and she started showing me all the new movies that just came in, so I got a little carried away—”
You're rambling, he notices, almost like you’re nervous.
It makes him feel slightly better, knowing this obviously wasn’t your first time hanging out with a guy (or being touched by one, if he ever got to that part), but that you were nervous nonetheless. Like you wanted this — whatever this was — to go well just as much as he did.
Eddie puts the tape into the VHS player when you’re headed back from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn in hand. You sit it on the table before plopping yourself in the middle of the couch — the boy across the living room has no idea you spent the two-and-a-half minutes it took to cook the snack debating on where to sit.
You feared sitting too far on one side might spook him from sitting next to you, that he’d think you didn’t want to sit next to him. So you place yourself snuggly in the middle of the decade-old sofa and hope you don’t seem too eager.
Your heart sinks to your ass when Eddie sits so far on the edge he’s practically sitting on the arm of it.
You muster a smile and try to make a joke of it. “I don’t have cooties or anything, Eds.”
“Promise?” he lilts. The way his voice shakes is purely for comedic effect. Obviously.
“Cross my heart.”
He hopes that by playing it off, you won’t notice how anxious he is about sitting next to you. But when he plants himself beside you, just close enough so that the rough fabric of his jeans scratches your knee every time he fidgets, it’s a little like sitting next to a rock. You spend the first half of the movie wondering if he’s nervous too or if he really just didn’t want to sit this close to you.
The film keeps playing and he keeps snacking — eating chips and Oreos and popcorn in a rotation before combining all three and marveling at the taste; “You’ve got to try this!” he exclaims to you with raised brows and wide eyes. He eventually forgets to be nervous.
That is, until Fast Times hits 53 minutes and 5 seconds.
The smooth bass of Moving in Stereo plays lowly in the background as Phoebe Cates rises from the pool water, clad in a small red bikini. The chlorine-laced drops of water glisten off of her tanned skin. “Hi, Brad. You know how cute I always thought you were,” you quote quietly along with her.
Your eyes are as glued to the television as Eddie’s when she starts to unlatch her top, like it’s the first time you’re seeing it too. You joked to Robin once that you couldn't wait until they made this movie in 3D.
Eddie gets hard as a rock, then. In every sense of the phrase.
“She’s hot, right?” you ask him.
“Yeah,” he answers. He clears his throat when the word comes out too tight. “Totally.”
“That’s how I knew Robin was gay, you know? We watched this when I slept over at her house one time and I woke up in the middle of the night and found her playing this scene over and over again,” you confess with a laugh and hope your best friend won’t be too angry you told him this. “She was sitting, like, two inches away from the screen.”
“Really?”
“Mhm. And when we made out afterward, that really sealed the deal—”
“Holy shit—” he sputters before he can stop it. “—Are you joking?”
Please, say yes before I come in my jeans, he thinks to himself.
“Why?” you challenge, shooting him an arched brow over your shoulder. “Does that change anything?”
“What? No! Of— Of course not!” It just makes you, like, ten times fucking hotter, that’s all.
“Good,” you nod and then turn back to the television. You move on quickly, and Eddie’s grateful. You keep telling the story like it’s one you tell all your friends.
“I asked her why she was watching it without me, and she said she got bored, but I already knew why she was watching it, you know? I guess I just wanted to hear her say it. So I just came out with it — ‘If you want to look at a pair of tits, I’m literally right here.’”
Eddie’s so entranced by your words it’s like you're telling him a bedtime story. He’s looking at you so intently, his gaze locked to your profile like he’s trying to commit it to memory. And when you finally turn to look at him again, he can’t seem to turn away, to even pretend like he wasn’t just hopelessly staring at you.
“So, then it became this whole thing, right? Like, I’ll show mine if you show yours. And then she got all awkward and nervous and lost in her head, kinda like you right now, and then I leaned in…” you trail off quietly, doing it in time as the words leave your mouth. So teasingly and breathtakingly slow. Eddie finds himself drifting closer to you, too, like a bayman to a siren’s call. “Just like this… And then I—”
You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence.
Eddie’s already kissing you before he realizes what he’s doing. Your noses knock together, the tip of his crushed against the side of yours. The sweet flavor of your strawberry chapstick evades his mouth when your lips press together.
He’s as shocked as you are.
He’s wanted to kiss many pretty girls in his life, but this was the first time he's actually ever done it.
You feel his face burn red against you when he realizes what he’s just done. He tries to pull away from you, but you keep him there with a hand on the back of his head; deepening the kiss and telling him that you want this — that you’ve always wanted this — without actually saying the words.
Refusing to separate from him, you maneuver yourself to face him more as press yourself against his side and tuck your knees beneath you. You caress the rough pad of his tongue with yours all the while, one hand balled in the shoulder of his t-shirt and the other anchoring itself to his curls.
You wait patiently for him to take action. To grip your waist. To lay you back on the couch. To climb over you and take what’s his.
He never does.
He hardly even touches you. He’s got one palm on your hip, but it’s so featherlight that it’s barely even there. His other hand is clutching the pillow on his lap with a white-knuckled grip, like he’s fighting to contain himself in some way. But you want him to let go. To lose himself with you.
The cushion had been there for most of the movie, something to keep in his absentminded hold and get crumbs all over. You wonder, now, if it’s a shield for something else.
Your lips click wetly when you part from him. A small smile forms on your mouth when you notice a string of spit threatening to connect the both of you. It breaks apart, landing cold below your mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your hand.
“Are you hard?”’ you wonder through bated breaths, coming right and just saying it.
Eddie’s eyes go somehow wider and his mouth falls agape. “Uh… No?”
Giggling, you ask, “Is that a question?”
“Maybe.”
“So what’s the answer?” you pry.
“Honestly?” he starts with a heavy breath and heavier eyes, still trying to joke. “Whatever makes me sound super cool and mysterious and sexy.”
“I’ve always thought you were all those things,” you confess with a soft laugh, twisting a strand of his hair with the tip of your finger.
“…Really?” he can’t help but wonder. Those words are about the most shocking thing that’s happened so far this evening.
“Yeah,” you nod, then tease: “Because you've never lied to me.”
So tell me the truth, he can hear the words jumbling around in your head. So does. He swallows thickly and then admits, voice cracking halfway through his confession, “I’m so hard that it fucking hurts, sweetheart.”
You’re smiling like the Chesire Cat at that, big and sly and mischievous. You have all the power and you know it.
“Can I make you feel better?” you whisper to him, lilting like you're taunting him. You mean it, though, and he knows that because you’re already tugging at the pillow in his lap. You don’t fight to snatch it away completely. You leave just enough room to allow him to say no. But his grip on the thing relaxes and allows you to slide the cushion slowly from his crotch.
He can’t say the words because his tongue is suddenly heavy in his mouth and his throat is closing on him. So he just nods, peering at you with eyes hooded with ecstasy.
You go back to kissing him, then, unhurriedly this time. You allow yourself to feel all of him, to hold his face in your hands and explore all the bits of him you never got the chance to before now. You do it more so in an effort to get him to relax, to forget to be nervous, but it only half-works.
He gets more comfortable with himself with time. The hand on your waist finds a more confident purchase there and the other climbs up to your face, cradling your jaw while his ringed fingers get lost in the strands of your hair. Then he starts to kiss you back harder, more earnestly than before, like he’s trying to prove something. Trying to tell you everything like this than with words he can’t seem to say out loud.
He forgets to be nervous again when your lips fit together like pieces of a puzzle — the kind with the funky edges, the kind you know goes together because there’s only two in the whole bunch like it. He stops worrying if he’s doing it right.
His breath is warm and heavy as it fans against your cupid’s bow. He’d rather take in small pieces of oxygen like this than stop kissing you now. You feel the same way as you straddle his thigh, careful not to move with too much haste that it knocks your lips apart.
Eddie’s legs part for you on instinct. When you settle more comfortably against him, he can feel the warmth radiating between your thighs through the thick fabric of his jeans. He wishes he was naked right now, more so that you were, so he can feel all of you, bare against his skin.
But he takes what he can get for now. And tries not to burst completely at the thought that the only thing separating you from him was the thin layer of your cotton underwear.
It’s hard not to think about your own pleasure like this. You could so easily move your hips against his thigh, let the rugged fabric of his jeans and your panties do all the work against your clit and bring you to a swift release. You want to. You’re sure Eddie would want you to if you asked him. But it strangely seems less important now.
Because you know you’re minutes away from making Eddie come so hard his legs shake. And you always wanted to know what he looked like when he came.
Your hand worms out of his hair and down his neck. Your fingernails trail lightly over his skin, leaving visible chill bumps in their wake. Your palm falls down his chest and stomach, smooth like drops of summer rain. The print of his Def Leppard tee is rough and cracked with age. You wonder how long he’s had it, how often he’s worn it, as your hand settles again. This time on his belt.
For a split second, he’s anxious about you seeing his dick. What if you think it’s too small? He thinks to himself. What if you think it’s too ugly? But then he realizes you’re not even trying to take off his jeans. You just rest your palm over the rough material of the denim and grip him through it.
A groan crawls up his throat and out of his mouth. His head falls backward and lands against the back of the couch.
He’s bigger than you thought, and warm against the tender skin of your hand, even through his boxers and his pants. It’d be ever warmer if you were feeling the real thing, you discern, but you figure you’ll save that for another time. Because even though it’s not the real thing and there are so many layers separating your fingers from his cock, Eddie’s letting out small and breathy moans that tell you that you’re touching him just right. The more you squeeze, the louder he gets.
“Is this okay?” you whisper to him.
“Are you kidding?” he retorts with a breathless laugh. “I feel like I’m in heaven right now.”
“Just wait until you come,” you giggle. It makes him moan again. His eyes fall shut because he knows he’s moments away from feeling what it’s like — not to come, obviously, but for it to be from your hand and not his. 
You massage him through his jeans, feeling him grow somehow harder with each caress of your fingers. Peering down at him, you can see his jaw clenching, the way it moves his temples, and the muscles in his neck straining as he climbs the peak of pleasure.
“If you think this feels good now, just wait until you're inside me,” you purr to him.
“Oh, fuck,” he drawls shakily at your words. He doesn’t know if you’re being serious or not. He wants so much to believe that it’s a promise, though. The idea that he could unbuckle his belt right now, free his cock from its restraints and slip your panties to the side and take you, just like this, with you on top of him and riding him for all he’s worth, that nearly does him in.
But he’s fighting to keep it at bay. To let this moment last as long as he can. Because it’s entirely likely that he’ll come and you’ll never want to do this again. It’s even more likely that he’ll wake up from this way too vivid fantasy he’s concocted in his brain. How good can dreams get until they’re nightmares again?
The hand on your hip darts to wrap around your wrist.
“What’s wrong?” you ask him, gaze sober and sincere.
Eddie breathes out a tremble sigh of relief when you slow your motions against him. “I just…” he breathes heavily. And swallows. “I really don’t want to come in my jeans.”
You’re smiling again at that, pleased at how good you're making him feel. Like the pleasure is foreign to him. He can feel your grin as you lean down to kiss him. It’s a chaste peck, like you're just sprinkling yourself there so it can linger the rest of the night. 
Your kiss is far more fervent against his neck, wetter and more passionate. His skin has a faint taste of salt, like he’d been sweating. And he was, for the entire day that he anticipated your arrival, though there was never an ounce of him expecting this. You bite at the strained tendon and marvel as he shudders beneath you.
“It’s okay,” you leave your promise against his skin. “I’ll wash them for you after. Like a good little housewife—”
It was a joke and he knows it because you’re laughing at the absurdity of your words, at the reality of them. You’re probably the only person in the world giving your drug dealer a handjob for free weed and then offering to wash his damp bottoms when he comes in them — calling yourself his fucking housewife. But, for a reason he can’t explain, that’s what gets him.
Not marrying you, perhaps, but the idea that he could have this feeling forever. That you could bring him to complete and utter, blinding bliss and then take care of him while he comes back to earth. 
You give him an especially tough squeeze that sends a moan spilling roughly from his throat. His hips jerk up to their own according, his thigh jamming into your clothed pussy — he swears he hears you moan — and his toes curl in his boots.
He doesn’t let go of your hand as he comes. He grasps your wrist and presses you further against him. His grip is almost too tight but you don’t mind it, not when you can feel the denim growing damp with the evidence of his orgasm.
Eddie doesn’t feel anything for a while after that. It’s just pure pleasure for several long moments. The fuzziness of his climax, your hand pressed against him, your warmth still pressed against his thigh.
But then the high fades away like a rolling summer cloud and he starts to feel the wet patch forming in his clothes. The fabric of his thin boxer starts to stick to him and he almost feels gross, like he’s a teenager again who can’t so much as look at a woman with needing to come.
But then he sees the way you look at him, grinning like a cat who got the cream — because, in some ways, you are. You look like you're proud of him. Like you’re secretly wondering how many times you can do that before it’s too much. He wants to find out too.
You plant another kiss to his lips. Just because you can.
“Take your pants off, Munson,” you mumble against his mouth, kissing him one more time for good measure before pulling away again.
“Oh— shit— wait, really?” he sputters. “I thought you were joking about— about me being… I— I don’t know if I have any condoms.”
He totally does, in an unopened box under his bed, collecting dust. 
You don’t need to know that, though.
“I meant for washing them so you can change,” you laugh at his embarrassment. The sound somehow makes him feel better even though you’re slightly making fun of him. You shrug and arch a brow at him, lilting, “But… I’m down if you are.”
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have any more virgin!eddie thoughts? or just thoughts about my writing/requests in general? leave them here if you want! ꒰◍ᐡᐤᐡ◍꒱
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slvtforfiction · 3 months
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Could you pls write a Johnnie guilbert x f! Reader where reader is a famous song writer and she’s up late at night like around 2:00-3:00 am working on a new song and Johnnie is sick and tired of her staying up all night and not taking care of herself so one night he gets up and hauls her ass to bed and when reader try’s to protest he tells her to stfu and plops right on top of her so she can’t go nowhere.
☆ Ahhhhh yes omg thank you anon x
☆ Sorry it’s short ☹️
☆ Johnnie Guilbert X Reader
☆ Fluff
☆ If you are going to request: please check at the pinned post if requests are open,otherwise I will delete your requests which I have already been doing
☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)
Masterlist | Pinned Post
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“Pumpkin,come to bed.” Johnnie whispered as I shook my head, “I can’t,I have to finish these lyrics.” I whispered as I barely looked away from my computer screen.
“When will you come to bed? It’s already midnight.” He told me and I nodded my head, “I know,I’ll be in bed by one,I promise,but I really have to finish this.” I told him with a sigh.
“If you’re not in bed by one,I’m turning off your pc.” He told me jokingly and I giggled, “Sure.” I said lightheartedly with a smile.
I continued to write as Johnnie walked off to bed,I had to finish these lyrics because the deadline was in three days,I was already behind and if I didn’t get this posted to them I would be worse off.
The amount of emails I was getting about the deadline was finally getting to me,the pressure put on me was keeping me up at night.
Ironically enough it was a song about the love between two people.I’ve always loved Johnnie,since the moment I saw him,so the second I got the chance at a love song I took it.
I hummed a tune to myself,listening to the beat of a song and editing the lyrics to fit the best I could. I knew I would end up scrapping and editing a few lines but I didn’t mind,as long as I got a base for my writing.
“You’re my my my lover~” I sung softly to myself as I checked if the lyrics matched the beat.
It was the most ironic situation I’ve been placed in,Johnnie was always looking out for me,taking mental health days off with me and always making sure I got enough sleep,he was the perfect example for a boyfriend.
I hummed softly to myself as I mind mapped some feelings for the song,the best I got up to was :
•love
•kindness
•looking out for people
•Caring
This was before I realised I was writing a song about Johnnie essentially. I was listing everything Johnnie had done for me,past and present. Johnnie was the perfect model for any love song.
I sit there tapping my pen against my paper,slowly running out of ideas before I edit a few more words.
“This is our place.” I hum to myself and quickly edit the line before I forget to,I smile as I realise i have my own house with the person I love. The realisation pulling a smile into my face.
“Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?” I whisper as I read out the lyrics,humming the tune to myself. This had become a love song about Johnnie and no one would know,I laugh to myself at the actualisation.
And before I knew it the click of the clock on my laptop changed the time to 1am, “Hey sweetheart,I need you to come to bed please,this isn’t good for you.” Johnnie whispered standing in the doorframe.
“Five more minutes,” I say as I look up at him, “Please!” I whisper to him as I see the disapproval sat on his face. “Okay,but after that im gonna have to drag you to bed.” He laughs but I know he would probably do that.
I mean ; not literally but Johnnie would drag me kicking and screaming if that’s what he had to do to get me to snuggle up to him in bed and sleep.
I edit a few lyrics and words before resting my head on the desk for a brief moment. A brief moment then turns into Johnnie tapping my arm, “Love wake up,you can’t sleep here,come to bed.” He whispers lovingly.
“No I have to finish this.” I say quietly looking up at him, “No,you’re coming to bed come on.” He says as he picks me up by the waist,holding me up to his waist without a reaction.
“Okay.” I whisper quietly.Tiredly I rest my head on his shoulder as we walk into our shared room,i strip myself of my clothes and put on my Pyjamas before huddling up in bed next to Johnnie.
“I love you.” I whispered as I kiss his cheek, “I love you too,princess.” He whispers before I drift of back into sleep.
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4wkjun · 4 months
Text
merry christmas, i guess | sjy
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pairing: jake sim × reader
requested? yes! there you go, anon <3 i fucked up and lost the request, i’m so sorry ㅠㅠ
genre: smut
warnings: blowjob inside of a car, swearing, throat fucking (?), minors dni.
♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡
you envy people who had snow during christmas. living in australia was great – not that you knew anything different than that –, but it was so hot.
it was almost two in the morning when you and jake decided to leave the christmas party your friends decided to throw. the windows were down as the cool breeze hit your face and you pulled the hem of your dress a little up, feeling your thighs sticking together because of the thin layer of sweat on your skin.
“you hot?” jake smirked, his hand on your thigh.
“yeah, i hate the summer.”
jake hummed, caressing your soft skin. he hated himself for being turned on just by the sight of your bare thighs and the soft feeling of your skin against his palm. you barely had time alone, your mom over the two of you everytime jake visited you at your place. he missed feeling your skin against his, but could’t bring himself to say that to you. you’ve been together for only three months, he didn’t want to sound like a perv.
“a penny for your thoughts?” you said, caressing his hand on your thigh. jake took a deep breath and squeezed your thigh, shaking his head.
“maybe i should keep them to myself” he answered, smiling softly at you for only a second before turning his eyes back on the road.
“your dick begs do differ” you said, noticing his bulge starting to show through his jeans. jake groaned, his hand back on the wheel. “i’m sorry we haven’t fuck in two weeks” you said, your hand hovering his crotch.
jake almost threw the car across the road as you squeezed his hardening cock, gasping. he looked at you with wide eyes, his cheeks bright red.
“you don’t have to do this, y/n. it’s ok, you have a lot to deal right now and- fuck” he whimpered as your palm started to rub him through the jeans, ridiculously slowly. “don’t do this or i’ll shove the car in the middle of a tree!” jake said, desperate.
you laughed, leaning in to whisper in his ear: “stop the car.”
jake obeyed, pulling over on the freeway. there was no other cars, just yours, so jake didn’t even bother to look for a hidden spot.
“y/n...” he started, his hands urgent to get rid of the seat belt.
“shh, let me give you a christmas gift” you smiled, getting rid of yours too. your hands unbuttoned his pants, jake panting in anticipation.
“you’re so pretty” jake said, his hand pulling your hair behind your ear. you smiled before tapping his leg so he would help you, getting up to bring his jeans down. you pulled both his jeans and his underwear down at once, jake hissing while you released his half-hard cock.
jake threw his head back when your hand closed around his shaft, pumping him slowly and spreading his precum. he held his breath when you put your head down to spit over his tip, making your hands slide easily.
“god, i missed your touch” he said under a breath, his eyes focusing on your face. his cheeks were getting redder, his eyes completely dark, filled with lust. he leaned in to kiss your soft lips, moaning against your mouth everytime your hand circled his sensitive tip. “are you gonna ride me?” he asked – his voice shaking – when he broke the kiss to moan, his eyes closed.
“no, baby. this is your gift, remember?” you said softly before lowering your head towards his hard cock. jake whined when he felt your breath against his cock, holding his breath when you licked his tip.
“don’t mess with me, baby” he groaned, his hand instinctively on your head. you hummed, your lips circling his tip with eager.
jake moaned loudly when you bobbed your head down his shaft, your hand still pumping the part your mouth couldn’t reach. he slowly applied a little pressure on the back of your head, trying to get you to suck on more of him. you took a deep breath before going down, afraid you would gag around him.
“uh, that’s it baby” jake moaned, holding your hair so he could see your face going down on him. “you take me so well” he said before whining when you sucked your cheeks in, your eyes closed. you slowly bobbed your head again, trying to put more of him inside your mouth.
jake's hips bucked forward without his consent, his body working on his own. you gagged as his tip brushed against the back of your throat, tears automatically filling the corner of your eyes. jake let out a loud moan and his hands grabbed a fistful of your hair, not wanting you to back out.
“baby, please” he whined.
you tried taking a deep breath through your nose before letting his tip hit your throat again, wanting jake to feel good. you couldn’t help but make another gagging sound around his cock and jake hissed, his hazed eyes never leaving your face.
“you don’t have to do this” he managed to moan, his breathing completely irregular. you lifted your head, letting off of his cock with a loud pop. tears ran down your cheeks and your hand didn’t stop pumping him.
“i thought you’d like to fuck my mouth” you said with a hoarse voice, wiping your tears with the back of your other hand. jake’s cock twitched in your hand by the thought of fucking your mouth.
“i would love to” he moaned. “but you don’t have to-”
“stop saying that, i want you to cum inside of my mouth. would ya?” you said, pumping him faster. he whimpered, nodding non-stop. you smiled, taking a deep breath again before attaching your lips to his cock.
you could tell jake was trying to go easy on you, thrusting softly against your mouth, his tip barely touching the back of your throat. he knew he was your first boyfriend, your first everything. no one else has ever fucked your mouth before, he didn’t want this to be traumatic in anyway. however, when you hollowed your cheeks again and put your own head forward, he groaned before thrusting hard against you.
you couldn’t stop the gagging sounds from leaving your mouth as jake thrusted against you, the tip of your nose touching his pelvis. tears streamed freely down your face as jake chased his own high on your lips, desperate to cum.
“fuck, y/n” he whined. you could feel his thighs flexing underneath your hands – you needed any kind of support –, knowing he wouldn’t last long. “look at you, a gagging mess around my cock” he said, pushing your head down on him. you gagged loudly again and he moaned just as loud.
you could feel your arousal dripping down your thighs, desperate to make him cum – and maybe ask him to return the favor. your right hand reached his balls and he whined, bucking harder against your mouth. you moaned, vibrating his cock with your voice.
“i’mma cum, i’mma cum” he whined, fucking your throat non-stop in erratic thrusts, his hips bucking on their own again. when jake released his seed inside of your mouth, you tried your best to swallow while still sucking his sensitive cock, only stopping when he whined and tried to get you out of his cock.
you smiled, cleaning your mouth with the back of your hand, not knowing if jake would want to kiss you right now. obviously he wanted to, pulling you in to attach his lips on yours, his tongue capturing his own taste on yours. jake wanted to return the favor, eat you out until you passed out of pleasure.
“let me do this for you, baby?” he asked before leaning in to kiss your neck. you whined, embarrassed.
“you have to drop me off, it’s half past two...” jake laughed, his hand sliding through your dress to squeeze your ass. he smiled when he noticed you weren’t wearing underwear.
“don’t worry, i’ll make sure you come” he said, chuckling at his own joke. “go to the backseat, baby. i’ll make you feel good. merry christmas, i guess.”
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Text
No Nut November
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TW: Masturbation references. Smut. Semi-public sex. Language.
SUMMARY: Partaking in ‘No Nut November’ would prove difficult when you become a bit too needy for him to stay true to his ambition. 
WORD COUNT: 1500
REQUESTED:
Anonymous asked:
Reader x one of the obx guys and him and his friends (so either the other kooks or other pogues) are challenging each other who can go the longest for no nut November and it’s been a few days and you’re being needy so you do everything to tease him until he finally gives in and fucks you
*I WANTED TO CHANGE THIS A BIT TO MAKE IT A BIT MORE INTERESTING…
No Nut November
The odds were stacked against him from the second he agreed to this display of self control; one thing he already wasn’t known for possessing. But by the two week mark, having lasted longer than anyone thought he would, JJ was busting at the proverbial and literal seam of his pants as you only made this worse. Purposely wearing only his shirts and tracing him such ways that if you’d only move slightly north, he’d certainly stain his shorts after denying himself that release for so long. But if there was one thing JJ Maybank was above all else, it was stubborn. Especially when money was on the line. And this was the deal he made with the other pogues. Two hundred dollars for who could last. But you had an ambition all your own. 
“JJ?” You asked as he relaxed in the hammock, trying to think of anything but how his cock throbbed at even just the sound of your voice. He was desperate, but too stubborn to let anyone else have that two hundred dollars. 
“I’m bored…”
“I think Sarah and Kie are-”
“I want to play with you…” You watched his jaw clench and his chest rise in a deep breath. 
“Sweetheart-”
“Please J…I miss you…” He sat on the edge of the hammock, tapping his knee as you knew the invitation well as it was all you had for the last two weeks. But no matter how skilled he was with his fingers or his tongue, you wanted HIM. Because there was nothing like the sensation of his fullness-the closeness. And for that, you were willing to risk appearing desperate or even feral. 
“I want YOU, JJ…”
“Baby, I can’t-” For this, you dropped to your knees, running your hands up his thighs and to his belt as he contracted against you. 
“Is THIS worth more than two hundred dollars? Shit, J, I’ll pay you myself, just fuck me!” 
“Ahem!” John B cleared his voice at your back as you turned to find Pope and Kiara smirking at your desperation. 
“You’re so screwed, J…” Kie commented as he was able to distance himself from you long enough to ignore the temptation you forced on him. 
A few hours later, you were all set around the inner heart of The Chateau. Some conversation of a recent movie spoken between Kiara and John B with passionate standpoints on either end as you could only focus on the fringe of the blanket at the ends of your fingers, unable to meet anyone’s gaze as you were too embarrassed. All because of a stupid deal that made you completely unhinged. And in the attempts he made to warrant a response from you, you would only ignore him, until he tried to pull your legs over him, to which, you’d just pull yourself into his room, slamming the door closed without a care of how this could embarrass him or yourself. 
He waited only a short while before following behind you, finding you in one of his shirts yet again, only now, without a care to use it as a means of seduction. But the second that you would find him wrapping his arms around you, no matter how tempting his embrace had been, you pulled away from him. Or at least tried to before feeling him pull his grip to between your thighs. As you tried to fight him, but found the expert circles and perfect pressure to draw you into more of an agreeable state than what you would have preferred. 
“JJ-”
He silenced you by a hand around your mouth, “You’re gonna want to keep this there…I’m not stopping until you know how sorry I am…And I know how much of a screamer my girl is,especially when I make her squirt…” You groaned into his palm as he was quick to take you to that precipice of that orgasm, only to edge you. 
“JJ, Please…”
“I know what you need…And I know exactly how to give it to you…but you need to give it to me when I’m ready…”
“Please, J…Nobody has to know…Just the tip…Just let me see it-fuck…please…” 
“You really love it that much?” He smirked against your ear as his hand had lowered so you could talk. 
“I need it, J…Please…” You began to rock your ass against him, rubbing and circling him, before his hands stationed at your waist. 
“Then we’re gonna make it worth two hudnred dollars.” He turned you suddenly on your stomach, the excitement of this moment having only been compared to that of your first time together. His hands were quick to undress himself before he would then position your hips up to him. 
“You want it and you’re gonna take it, right sweetheart?”
“Yes, J-I swear to God…”
“Nuh uh…Me. Swear. To. Me.” He ordered as he bent you into such an arch that he could look into your eyes as you nodded. 
“I swear to you, JJ…Whatever you want to do to me, I’m yours…” He smirked.
“Then perk that perfect little ass up for me and bounce it against me exactly how I like it…you know how…And I want you to flick yourself…do it slowly because I want this to last…” You nodded. “And you don’t get to come until I say.”
“Yes, JJ…”
“Goooood girl…” He purred, his cock suddenly inside of you as you whimpered. 
“Yes…” You grunted. “YES-” You spoke again behind tear eyes and clenched teeth. 
“You gonna make it worth it for me?”
“Yes…”
“Then why the fuck aren’t you moving?” You began to move forward, allowing his cock to find the familiarity of your inner walls clenching around him. With a hand to the bend of your neck, he held you in guidance to slow your desperate thrusts before you were left solely to his motions and the white knuckled grip into your shoulder. 
“J Please…it’s-”
“Don’t you dare complain. I’ve waited two weeks without doing as much as stroking and you’ve been walking around making it worse…wearing my shirts with no panties-yeah I noticed…” He paused to set a smack to your ass, “Bending over and moaning…on your knees and looking up at me like you know drives me crazy…So YOU don’t get to complain.” But as he spoke these words, he would take pity on you as he had been relentless, minutes fading into an hour and beyond as he’d break long enough to prolong his own release. All the while, edging you and spouting those dirty words that kept you ready for him without aggression reaching to the forefront. 
“JJ…”
“Turn over.” He finally allowed you a reprieve before you obeyed, his hands quick to pull his shirt from your torso as he was quick to attack each breast. Your fingers ran through his hair but were quickly set over your head. 
“You’ve done enough…I know you’ve had to wait too…So you’re gonna come,” He was silenced by his own motions, wincing at the reinsertion of his cock to your welcoming sex, “With me…It’s only fair-”
“Please, JJ…”
“Fuck…I missed those whines…Ke-k-keep whining for me…shit…” He grunted, head folded into your shoulder as you dug your nails into his arms, his muscles contracting to each movement, before his paces grwe to that familiar speed of a near climax. 
“You can stop and still win, J-” You reminded him. 
“Not a fucking chance in hell. You wanted it…you’re gonna get it. All. OF. IT!” He clenched, battering into you, finger rushing across your clit as you would squirt,allowing him the perfect slick to pound his final desperate movements into you before then falling at your side, breathless, pullingyo in to him. 
“To be honest…I can’t believe I lasted THIS long…” He confessed as you nodded. 
“I’m sorry, JJ…For being desperate-”
“I’m not.” You looked up at him, his hand softly tracing your jaw. 
“Because it means that you have 200 reasons to make it up to me.”
“200-orgasms?!” He nodded. 
“Before the end of November-” Your eyes widened. 
“That’s like five a day, J!”
“And this was one…” He winked. “Now do whatever you have to, get some water-shower,although that’s redundant…because when I come back…I’m using that perfect…dirty…little mouth…” You were left in awe as he moved back into the crux of The Chateau, applause awaiting him. 
“Guess you missed out, JJ…” Pope teased. 
“You can gladly have it. Because after that last dollar is spent, I’ll still get to have sex…” He teased as you blushed when hearing him speak in regards to you. But you couldn’t help the fact he was right…
Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @maybankslover @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @pankhoeforlife @pankowperfection
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flowerxbunnie · 6 months
Note
Can you do one where Chris overstims reader until they use their safe word?
Too Much
Chris x Fem reader
Warnings: SMUT, overstimulation
DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!
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Chris collapses on the bed beside me, covered in a sheen of sweat.
“Damn, I needed that,” he says in a raspy, low tone, laying his head on the pillow.
I smile and reach over to play with his hair, not knowing what to say. I didn’t reach my climax, my mind was too busy racing with the events of the stressful day I had. This has literally never happened to me before. But he looks so tired and fucked out that I’m embarrassed to ask for anything in return.
He dozes off shortly after with my hand tracing circles across his back. I still feel an ache in my stomach and a wetness between my thighs. I wonder if he’d wake up if I just touched myself now? I don’t want to ask him later, that would mean I’d have to admit that I wasn’t able to get off with him.
I wave my hand in front of his face, watching closely to see if his eyes flutter. Nope, he’s for sure asleep.
I wait a couple of minutes before I slowly reach under the blanket, careful not to disturb him, and sigh quietly when my fingers touch my core. I move my hand as little as possible, rubbing tiny circles on my clit and I already feel the familiar pressure that never got released.
Chris’s leg twitches and I halt my movements, terrified I’ve been caught. I give him a few moments- his eyes are still closed, his lashes brushing his cheeks. His breathing is slow and steady.
I move my fingers down further and push one in, whimpering as I curl it towards the spot I know feels best. I continue pleasing myself, even reaching a hand up and massaging my own breast.
“What are you doing?”
Fuck.
Fuck fuck fuck holy fuck.
My hand immediately flies above the covers and my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I put my hands over my face, I can’t even look at Chris right now.
“You need more?”
“N-no Chris.” I mutter, barely audible.
He pulls my hands away from my face, sitting up and turning toward me.
“Then why are you touching yourself, Y/n? I mean, I don’t mind but I could have given you a second round if you needed.”
I know there’s no excuse I can give that will please him, so I decide I’m just gonna come clean.
“Chris, I..”
“You what??”
“I didn’t get to finish with you.”
His eyes soften, his confusion melting away and he runs his thumbs along the back of my hands.
“That’s fine baby, why didn’t you just tell me?” he ask so softly, almost a whisper.
“I’m so embarrassed, Chris.”
“Why? Don’t be, sweet girl. It happens sometimes. Nothing to feel ashamed about. You know you can always ask me for whatever you need,” he reassures me.
“I’d never want you to feel embarrassed to come to me about something like that, understand me?” he asks, not in an intimidating way, but in a genuinely caring way.
I nod and feel my cheeks draining of the blush they held onto for so long.
“Let me help you out, baby.”
Chris pulls the cover off of me, sliding down the bed and laying on his stomach between my thighs.
“Want me to pick up where you left off, pretty girl?” he asks, running a finger across my entrance.
“Please, Chris,” I whine, moving my hips to meet his finger only to have him pull it away.
“Ah ah, we’re doing this my way, baby, stay still.”
His eyes remain locked on mine as he slowly brings his finger back to my aching pussy, still just tracing up and down. He brings it to his mouth, sucking my arousal off of it and letting out a low groan.
“Fuck baby, you taste so damn good,” he says before bringing it back again.
He inserts it slowly, all the way to the knuckle and keeps it there, unmoving. I watch as his lips come down to pepper kisses on my clit, making me clench around his finger, hungry for him.
Without warning he began curling his finger into me, hitting my g spot repeatedly and sucking and licking at my clit.
“FUCK Chris, so fucking good,” I whimper, grabbing fistfuls of his fluffy hair and tugging.
He hums against my pussy, the new sensation causing me to tense my entire body. He catches on, continuing to hum without stopping.
“I think I’m gonna..” before I can finish my sentence, the pressure releases and I feel a wave of pleasure from my head to my toes. He keeps going as I moan his name along with a string of curses, riding out my high.
I relax my body, thankful for the release and ready to cuddle and doze back off with Chris.
Except he doesn’t stop, his fingers continue their movements, steadily pumping in and out of my now dripping pussy. The feeling is overwhelming and I giggle, expecting him to stop after a couple seconds.
“Stoppp baby I’m too sensitive,” I laugh, pulling his arm with no luck.
“I know you are, but I’m gonna make sure you never feel left out again,” he says, his hot breath ghosting over my thighs as he bites and licks the tender skin.
“No baby I’m good now, promise, just come lay with me,” I plead, not knowing if I can handle another orgasm this soon.
“You know what to say to make me stop, baby. You say the word and I’m done.”
I inhale sharply as he removes his fingers, replacing them with his tongue. He laps up my juices and explores my core, bringing his hands to push my legs up above his shoulders. His blue eyes meet mine and I bite my lip. The feeling is almost unbearable, but still so intoxicating.
He flattens his tongue against my clit, covering its entirety with warmth. I feel his hands reach around and graze over my ribs, sliding up to cup my breasts in his hands and giving them a light squeeze. He pinches both nipples between his thumb and index finger, rolling them and pulling on them.
He narrows his tongue and switches to a fast flicking motion which makes my head swim.
“Chris baby I’m already close,” I whine out, feeling another orgasm quickly approaching. This time my stomach is in knots, threatening to explode with every touch he makes.
He comes up for air still toying with my nipples and says “Give it to me baby, come on, you can do it.”
That’s all I needed to hear. His praise combined with his warm tongue back against me bring me to my second orgasm, tears rolling out of my eyes and pulling his hair hard enough to draw a painful moan out of him.
I relax once again, ready to be done, but it still seems he has other plans.
He bring the same fingers that were toying with my nipples down to my clit, lightly pinching and pulling, causing me to yelp.
“Fuck Chris, I can’t it’s too much!”
“Hmm, I still haven’t heard the word yet, pretty girl.”
He sits up between my legs and keeps one of them propped up on his shoulder, spreading my pussy apart with two fingers and spits directly on it.
“I have to make it up to you,” he says, staring down as he pushes them into me once again. “I have to make sure you never feel like you have to do it yourself.”
I whine and squirm, not being able to handle the overstimulation.
I nearly say my safe word at this point, but the way he’s hitting all the spots that make me weak prevents me. I grip the bedsheets on either side of me and focus on my breathing, trying to get my eyes to stop watering.
“Is it too much, baby?”
“Y-yes,” I whine.
“Do you want me to stop?” he asks smirking.
Before I can answer he pushes a third finger in, stretching and filling me up so deliciously.
“FUCK. Fuck, please, Chris. Please keep going.” I’m panting between words, starting to get lightheaded.
“I know baby, I know. Shh it’s okay,” he says lowly before bringing his other hand to his mouth, licking his fingers. He brings them to my clit and rubs back and forth across it almost in a vibrating motion. The feeling makes me cry out and my body tries to clench my legs together, but his arms prevent me from doing so.
I feel a different kind of pressure I’ve never felt before building in my lower stomach, almost as if I have to pee.
“Chris, fuc- oh my god Chris I feel like I need to pee stop!”
This causes him to snap his head up to look into my eyes, and I notice a smug smile creep across his face as he speeds up.
“Oh you’re not gonna pee sweet girl, come on just relax, let go.”
He curls his fingers into the deepest parts of my walls, speeding up before reaching a consistent pace. He increases pressure on my clit and I just know I’m about to pee everywhere, so I tense up and prepare for the worst.
“Chris f-fuck for real I’m gonna..”
I’m thrown over the edge and I can hear my heartbeat in my ears, my legs shaking uncontrollably. My eyes are snapped shut but I’m seeing flashes of colors- waves of ecstasy rushing over me. Once I slow my breathing and come down, the open my eyes to see a soaked Chris between my legs.
“Holy fuck. You just squirted everywhere baby. So fucking hot,” he says excitedly with a look of satisfaction.
“What the-” I start, throwing my head back onto the bed when I feel his mouth lapping at my pussy again. I’m pretty sure I’m crying at this point, it’s just too much.
“Mmmmm so fucking wet,” he whispers against me before returning his attention to my clit.
“GIRAFFE.”
Before I even finished saying the word, Chris was completely off of me, hands by his sides and sitting up straight.
“Baby are you okay?” Chris is stricken with worry, shuffling up the bed to lay my head in his lap.
I take a moment to breathe and gather myself before I flutter my eyes slowly, struggling to keep them open.
“Baby talk to me please, I feel so bad.” He kisses my forehead, hands on both of my cheeks.
“I’m okay Chris, it just got to be too much too quickly,” I take a deep breath and struggle trying to sit up, but Chris quickly lays me back down, sliding out from under me and placing a pillow where he once was.
“You stay there. I’m so so sorry, Y/n. I thought you were enjoying yourself and I got too caught up in the moment.” He rushes to the bathroom, mumbling to himself and running a washcloth under warm water and returning to my side.
“I can’t say it enough, I’m so sorry baby.”
He begins cleaning me up, tenderly kissing my thighs and rubbing any marks he had created on me.
“I fucking loved it, Chrissy.”
“Wait, really?” he perked up, his worry starting to wash away.
I giggle and nod, finally able to sit up.
“I promise. I just don’t think I could handle another one without passing out.”
This earns a laugh from him, and then he reaches out to pull me in for the warmest and sweetest hug I’ve ever felt.
We sit like this for a minute, me listening to his steady heart beating away in his chest and him caressing and rubbing my hair.
“You wanna shower and then pick a movie? I’m down for whatever, I’ll even let you pick our snacksss…” he says in a singsong tone at the end.
“Duh, grab the towels.”
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steddieas-shegoes · 10 months
Note
"can you read the letter for me?"
It’s been years.
Four years to be exact.
Eddie left and he didn’t come back, he didn’t even visit, he barely even called.
And he certainly never called Steve.
So the letter showing up with a return address in Chicago confused him.
Chicago wasn’t even that far away. Eddie could have come by, he could have stopped in for Christmas or something.
He kept the letter on his bedside table for days, glaring at it, ignoring it, picking it up and starting to open the envelope only to set it back down.
Robin wasn’t gonna let him keep doing it though, not when she saw the want in his eyes.
“Okay. You have to read it.”
“I don’t want to.”
“I don’t care.”
“Can you read the letter for me?”
Robin sighed, but reached for it.
She opened it quickly, didn’t want to give Steve time to back out.
Stevie,
Sorry it’s been a while. I’m not sure why I let it go this long without writing or calling or visiting, but it just felt easier.
I don’t know if you keep up with the band or anything, but we’re taking a break while I get my head on right. I worked myself too hard, ended up in the hospital. I’m okay. Or I will be. I’m trying to be.
Part of my break is supposed to be visiting Hawkins. Wayne insisted I stay for at least a few weeks so I didn’t want you to be surprised to see me around town.
I know things didn’t end well with us. I know I hurt you and that I kept hurting you by not talking to you. I know I owe you more than one apology and I owe you more than what’s written in this letter, but I hope this is a start.
I’m sorry for thinking that I couldn’t have you and the band at the same time. I’m sorry for not telling you how important you were and are and always will be to me. I’m sorry that I’ve written entire albums about you and haven’t bothered to call. I’m sorry that I put myself in this position and still hope for forgiveness.
I’m sorry for being too much and not enough at the same time.
I hope we get a chance to talk in person. I want to tell you I’m sorry in person, but I understand if you don’t want to. I want to be able to see you, but I know that’s not a right anymore.
Hopefully see you soon,
Eds
“Well, that’s certainly a letter,” Robin said.
“Yeah,” Steve choked out.
“You never told me what happened before he left,” she said softly, not pressuring him to talk, but curious.
“Not much to say. We were talking about a future. Getting an apartment. Telling everyone about us. Maybe someday trying to adopt kids! But then suddenly the next week he was telling me he had to move with the band and take a chance. I offered to come with him and he said no, so. Here we are.”
“Oh. Wow, I hate him.”
“I don’t. That’s the problem.”
“So you’re gonna try to talk to him when he’s here?”
Steve considered it.
He deserved answers at the very least. He deserved to know why he wasn’t worth more effort, why the band was more important, why everything they talked about went out the window.
“Yeah. I think I need to.”
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juneknight · 7 months
Text
Beneath His Breath
Kink: Forced orgasm
Dorm room Marc deserves this.
*
“I can do it,” he mutters softly, not to you, but to himself. He repeats it again and again, his head slowly lolling to the side. He suddenly jerks against his bonds, cock twitching in your grasp as he loses the battle against relaxing his muscles and thinking of something—anything—besides your lubed hand smoothing up and down his shaft. Marc lets out a frustrated breath, head thudding backwards against the headrest.
“Don’t you want to cum, Marc?” you murmur.
“No,” he mutters. His lips start moving again. Maybe he’s whispering song lyrics, like he was ten minutes ago. Or praying, like he had briefly twenty minutes ago. You glance down toward his cock and give your own shaky sigh. You have never seen him harder than he is now, his cock a dusky red. To switch things up, you let your lubed hand down to cup his balls, to feel the heft of them and how tight they’ve become after thirty minutes of focused edging.
Except it isn’t really edging if you’re trying to make him cum.
“You’re so pretty, Marc, you know that?” He doesn’t respond, lips still moving. Your thumb brushes along the spot where his sac meets his shaft. No response. “This iron clad willpower you’re scraping together is truly impressive.”
“Thanks,” he mutters. You lift his balls gently, searching for that spot behind them, pressing the pad of your thumb against it softly. Marc’s eyes open, staring at everything and nothing all at once as his jaw goes slack. Then his mouth shuts with a click, eyes squeeze tight as he swallows down the groan that vibrates through his entire bare, sweat-slicked chest.
“Very impressive,” you remark. “But baby, we both know you’re a little slut for me. How long do you really expect to last?”
“Til you give up,” he mutters, feet shifting restlessly beneath him. Though his hands are bound behind his back, you left his legs free. You know he likes to bounce his knee when he needs to distract himself. A glance toward your time shows that you have ten minutes and thirty-three seconds to make Marc cum or it’s Game Over.
“I’m never gonna give up, baby,” you whisper. “I’m gonna spend the rest of my life with your pretty dick in my hand. I’m gonna fuck and suck it as often as I choose, because you’ll always be hard for me, won’t you?”
“Stop,” he says, breaths growing even shallower. You know Marc’s body well: the length and girth of his cock, the spots that make him groan, the ones which give him goosebumps. The scars. The freckles. You know just where to touch and with how much pressure to coax a symphony of different sounds from him. All that, and you know that nothing turns him on more than getting inside his head, and the best way to do that is by talking to him.
“I don’t know why I’m even trying to make you cum,” your murmur. “I should leave you just like this, on the edge. Maybe put a ring on your cock. Then you’ll just be my toy, won’t you baby? A pretty toy. Prettiest cock I’d have ever fucked myself with, that’s for sure.
“Please,” Marc mutters, eyes flickering beneath his lids. He loses the rest of his breath, just mouthing the word again and again. Please, please, please.
“I’m gonna fuck myself so loose with you,” you sigh happily. “Keep you inside me even when I’m sleeping, ‘til my pussy feels empty whenever you—”
Marc cums. The first indication that you’ve pushed him over the edge is the breath he takes: full, chest expanding in a way he hadn’t let himself dare until now. His head lolls back, baring his corded throat to you as his mouth parts. In your lubed hand, his cock twitches, lengthening that last little bit before it bursts, cum splashing against the hard line of his abs in one, two, three spurts before spilling down over your knuckles as you work him through his orgasm. The groan that rips free of his throat is enough to haunt your dreams in the best way.
When at last his body has stopped trembling, you pump your other fist in the air.
“Haha! Take that, Spector! Now who’s doing the dishes?”
“Me,” he sighs.
“Say it, say it all in one sentence, it’s so beautiful—”
“I am going to do the dishes.”
You lean in and place a smacking kiss on his lips. He grins against your mouth and laughs at your enthusiasm, shaking his head a little as you untie him. Watching him flex his wrists and fingers, you see his mouth mutter one more thing.
You think he says, Worth it
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