#LOOK ME IN THE EYES. HOW DO YOU WANT ME TO GET TO DRIVERS ED????? HOW DO YOU WANT ME TO GET THERE???? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

povlnfour · 5 months

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚ .JPG (JUST PROPOSE GODDAMNIT) (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x girlfriend!reader

summary: lando’s childhood sweetheart has long since been the subject of his photography account. fans just can’t wait to see one specific post from the couple in the future

*face claim for y/n: edie rose (but please imagine her as you see fit!)

lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by daniel3.jpg, charles_leclerc and 95,602 others

lando.jpg life lately🧡

view all comments

user1 me checking y/n’s hand for a ring everytime lando posts her

user5 FELT i got so excited when i saw one here then realised it was her right hand

user2 SO REAL nearly 8 years im expecting it soon…

daniel3.jpg one of you looks super graceful w the food

landonorris gtfo

yourusername (affectionate)**

user3 SUCH A CUTIE

user3 y/n i mean xo

user4 MOM AND DAD

user5 JPG MR .JPG. JUST PROPOSE GODDAMNIT!!!!!

lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by daniel3.jpg, charles_leclerc and 97,602 others

lando.jpg my muse and me

view all comments

user5 lando i BEG just ask the woman to marry you

user6 his muse🥹🥹🥹 if someone called me that i would be a puddle

user1 oh she so has stops to pet random dogs energy

yourusername i love you my darling

user4 the third photo *faints*

user7 JPG!!!

user5 finally my legacy is catching on

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 103,447 others

yourusername lando got .jpg-ed of his own for a change

view all comments

user3 the caption sounds….

yourusername @/user no comment

user8 MISS Y/N THAT FIRST PHOTO IS ILLEGAL

user5 i just gasped out loud at work in front of customers

user2 Y/N KNOWS WHAT WE WANT TO SEE

user1 i know we’re freaking over the first pic but his smile in the second one i’m so in love. how do you cope with him looking at you like that?

yourusername i quite simply don’t🩷

lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by daniel3.jpg, charles_leclerc and 95,602 others

lando.jpg holidays as captured by us

view all comments

user5 a whole fancy holiday to greece and stILL NO RING????

user7 mr. norris the next photo u post better be a damn proposal or god help me

charles_leclerc good decision to put her first, that way people don’t run away

user6 CHARLES😭😭😭

user1 JPGGGGG

user3 look at that GLOW she’s so main character (you’re cute too lando i guess)

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 102,771 others

yourusername baby is away but still sending deliveries💐

view all comments

user7 flowers but never a ring… i could treat you better baby

landonorris 🤔

user3 ^^^ WHAT THEY SAID

oscarpiastri is this what you had to ask lewis for help with @/landonorris

landonorris international shipping isn’t my thing ok

user4 best boyfriend ever

user7 he COULD be the best husband ever, but🤭

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 206,231 others

landonorris happy birthday babygirl. so glad u lived long enough to utter the words ‘get a picture of my boots dickhead they’re brighter than ur future’

view all comments

user7 so no bday proposal either😐

user5 SIR YOU HAVE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME

landonorris guys stop being mean i’m only small

danielricciardo he’s joking bullying turns him on

user1 lando you have to expect the marriage jokes in ur comments now

carlossainz55 feliz cumpleaños y/n!🥳

yourusername gracías, mi amigo🥹

user7 ‘my friend’ TEARS IN MY EYES SHES THE GRID BESTIE

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55 and 112,099 others

yourusername days in england are my fave bc it gave us my fav f1 driver (lewis hamilton)

view all comments

user4 Y/N/N U ARE SO REAL AHAHAHA

charles_leclerc i’m offended

yourusername ur my next favourite sweetie

landonorris IM NOT EVEN SECOND?

lewishamilton i expect you in a merc cap next race now

yourusername done king

lewishamilton visit soon🖤

landonorris absolutely not

user8 lando won’t propose so lewis said BET

lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by daniel3.jpg, charles_leclerc and 95,108 others

lando.jpg night at the opera

view all comments

user3 AT THE OPERA? AND STILL NO…? JPG!!!

user5 JPG!!! JPG JPG

user1 JPG

user9 JPG!

user2 JPG JPG JPG SAY IT WITH ME

user6 JPG JPG JPG

user7 JPG!!!!!!!!!

landonorris why are you all shouting a photo type in my comments

landonorris oh

lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, daniel3.jpg and 100,072 others

lando.jpg singapore on film

view all comments

alex_albon JPG!!!

landonorris you have 3 seconds to leave my page

user8 IM IN TEARS OVER ALEX

user5 IT CAUGHT ON‼️

user1 definitely no ring☹️

yourusername reading your comments is like reading the latest tabloid

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 105,602 others

yourusername what do you mean we’ve been together for eight whole years??? what do you mean we’re not 15, young, dumb and in love anymore? i’d take another 8 in a heartbeat🧡

view all comments

landonorris eh we’re still dumb and in love, just maybe not the first one. love you baby🧡

fernandoalo_official you are still a child.

user4 HAPPY 8 YEARS TO MY FAVOURITE COUPLE☹️☹️☹️

user5 all the behind the scenes of him taking photos :(

user7 she really is his muse huh

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 214,520 others

landonorris sometimes when i look at you i think it’s only been 8 seconds with how much i learn about you each day. hard to believe it’s been 8 years, and that i love you more each day. no one else i’d want to spend the rest of my life with. i know you’re just settling until you can win over lewis (or charles, or george, or oscar, or alex, or carlos) but i’m feeling pretty lucky it’s me you chose to do that with.

view all comments

lewishamilton mate you just gotta get on my level

oscarpiastri good taste, y/n

landonorris NOT YOU TOO

yourusername thank you bff

user8 me waiting patiently for the anniversary proposal post????

user1 wishful thinking oomf

danielricciardo all jokes aside pal, happy you’ve managed to keep her around for this long despite being you. big love for you both🖤

landonorris HOW was that all jokes aside

yourusername believe it or not, it’s always you. happy anniversary baby🧡

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris and 107,821 others

yourusername lando caught the behind the scenes of my selfie taking and let me tell u the distance between me n him is important

view all comments

user2 this was not the post i was expecting but i’ll still take it

user5 i was hoping we'd get a different post but you still look good ma'am

user8 the fact he’s always there to take photos of you >> girl you have landed on your FEET

yourusername tell me about it. luckiest girl in the WORLD

lando.jpg just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by daniel3.jpg, yourusername and 112,562 others

lando.jpg y/n by me, me by me, me by y/n

view all comments

user4 so it’s official … no proposal?

user5 jeez man JPG.

user3 jpg!!!

user1 just propose goddamniT

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by lewishamilton, alex_albon and 206,719 others

yourusername i don’t even have the ability to be mean to you this time. my forever person. thank you for putting up with me. this feels like a dream i cannot believe i am a fiancée. THE EASIEST YES IVE EVER SAID (and you once asked me if i wanted to snooze the alarm)

view all comments

user3 OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD AM I DREAMING

user7 WHAT THE JAJHDBSVJA

lewishamilton finally! show me the ring this weekend (congratulations)

yourusername facetiming u rn

user5 IM???? MY LEGACY HAS ENDED AND I COULDNT BE HAPPIER

carlossainz55 couldn't be happier for the both of you

alex_albon LILY AND I ARE SCREAMING CONGRATS TO OUR FAVOURITE COUPLE

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by carlossainz55, charles_leclerc and 377,290 others

landonorris took my time but got there eventually. ‘just propose goddamnit’ WELL LOOK AT ME NOW! gonna have myself a wife. i love you baby, thanks for screaming yes immediately so i didn’t have to wait to hear your answer

view all comments

landonorris @/user5 i hope ur happy now

user5 VERY.

charles_leclerc can't believe you pulled it off mate, congrats!

oscarpiastri sad i can't scream JPG at you in the garage anymore but happy for the both of you!

yourusername my oscar :( cannot wait to squeeze you this weekend

oscarpiastri @/yourusername i better be a bridesmaid

landonorris why not a groomsman????

oscarpiastri @/landonorris i like her more

mclaren wedding (mclaren's version)

----

a/n:

hello hello, i have had so much fun writing and creating this so i hope you like it!!!!

was going to wait to post but after the hell that was quali i thought hey why not now

thank you all for reading! as always, comments likes and messages are appreciated and whatnot🫶 take care of yourselves this week!!! the temperature is starting to drop in france so i am wrapped up warm and i hope you’re looking after yourself wherever you are

taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #lando norris au #lando norris imagine #mclaren #lando norris blurb #lando norris scenario #lando norris smau #lando norris one shot

4K notes · View notes

jamminvroomvroom · 6 months

Text

everything.

ln x fem!reader

in which you’re his best friend until you’re something more

hi! here you go lmao. probs the fluffiest thing i’ve ever written and i am obsessed with the concept! thank you for being here and baring with me - i loved writing this one and i’d love to hear what you think! huge shoutout to my girlies @mcmuppet and @lavenderlando ily both!

songs that set the mood: pink and white by frank ocean, daylight by harry styles, angel by finneas, enchanted by taylor swift, hate to be lame by lizzy mcalpine

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, language, friends to lovers brain rot, slight corruption kink, readers first time, qatar angst

6.4k words

“do you wanna talk about it?” you whispered softly, your hand resting on lando’s sagged shoulder.

your eyes were fixed on the third place plaque on his table in front of you, his very much fixed on the floor.

“no.” his reply was short and sweet, his tone conveying exactly how deflated he was.

you’d only flown in to qatar this morning, the october sun hitting you hard as you walked into the paddock, drastically different to the london climate you’d grown accustomed to. lando had all but begged you to come, your evening before spent on the phone, and you knew that he needed a friend, otherwise he never would have asked you to fly halfway around the world.

friends. that’s what you were.

you’d hugged him tight and told him that the weekend had to get better, and then his teammate put it on pole and got his first win. so, yeah, maybe it wasn’t going to get better and not even the podium could cheer him up.

his radio messages had hurt your heart, your chest aching as he self deprecated in the cockpit. he owned his mistakes, sure, but he’d taken it a step too far and you knew you had a job to do. you’d do anything, quite literally anything, to cheer him up.

you’d always found a way to be there for eachother, your friendship spanning five long years after you’d knocked a coffee over a guy you quickly recognised as the new mclaren driver. both nineteen and awkward as hell, you’d um-ed and er-ed and danced around one another in the busy pret in central london, chucking tissues at him, attempting to mop up the frothy mess all over his white sweatshirt.

eventually you’d just burst into laughter, lando immediately following suit. your cheeks were hurting from smiling at the curly haired stranger, intrigued by the very way his faced moved when he laughed, and he’d looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky, not like someone that had just destroyed a brand new hoodie.

and just like that, a connection was born.

you’d gotten used to having a friend for only half the year, but he never let you feel the distance. paddock passes often fell through your letter box and you could usually be located in the background of his streams when he was home long enough to do them, the amount of times you’d been wrongfully accused of being his girlfriend a list as long as your arm. even in those moments of awkwardness, friendship prevailed and you both managed to crack up together about the conspiracy that you were more than friends.

and what an intriguing conspiracy it was.

“we should get you back to the hotel, you need to get some rest.” you told him, standing from the sofa and offering him your hand.

lando grabbed it, squeezing, his own special way of telling you he was grateful for your presence, and let you pull him up. as he tried to walk towards the door, you stopped him, hands on his shoulders. you wanted to shake him, tell him how fucking great he was. you didn’t think he’d appreciate that after an intense session in the car.

“hey, look at me. you got this, okay?” you smiled reassuringly, managing to get the smallest crack back from him, his lips upturning ever so slightly. something in his eyes told you that you’d succeeded, a small glimmer of an emotion that you didn’t know how to unpack.

friends.

that’s what you were.

you tried to ignore how touchy lando was being. you figured he just needed some comfort, physical touch not out of bounds in your friendship, but a new level had been reached.

on the entire walk through the paddock to his car, his hand sat comfortably on the small of your back, despite the endless amount of cameras pointed at you. his hand skimmed your thigh in the car, accidentally, you told yourself, and you had to avert your eyes when his hand graced your headrest as he reversed out of the parking space. knowing that he needed you in qatar so desperately that he’d flown you out was one thing, the way he was treating you once you got there was something else.

he’d opened your door when you pulled up at the hotel valet, helping you out of the car, his hand tucked in yours for a second longer than necessary. once again, his hand seemed to be glued to your lower back the whole way to the elevator.

the ding of the lift had you both shuffling out onto your floor, trailing towards your rooms in a heavy silence, something more left unsaid in the air.

you reached your door first, coming to a stop and shuffling around in your bag for your keycard.

“um, i need to be at the track early tomorrow. breakfast?” lando asked.

you turned to look at him, nodding your head profusely.

“of course, just drop me a message and i’ll come down and meet you.” you affirmed, your fingers finally grasping the piece of plastic that had, of course, fallen to the very bottom of your tardis of a tote bag.

you expected him to leave, but he lingered, as if there was something else on his mind.

“you okay?” you raised an eyebrow, unlocking your door. lando seemed to snap out of it then, awkwardly running a hand through his curls that had taken a brutal hit from the humidity. you liked the look on him, nonetheless.

“yeah, i- yeah, i think i just need some sleep.”

“okay, well, goodnight. let me know if you need anything.” you disappeared through the door then, the tension getting the better of you. you slumped against the shut door, wondering what he so clearly wanted to say.

the clock read 1:32am on your bedside.

a faint tapping had woken you up, and you groggily scanned the room, trying to find the source of the noise. you deduced that it was coming from your door, letting out a groan as you threw the cosy comforter off and trudged towards the disturbance.

you cracked it open, peeking through the gap and coming face to face with your best friend.

“lando?” you croaked, opening the door further.

“i’m sorry, can’t sleep. can i come in? it’s okay if not, i just didn’t know what to do.” he sounded so shy, something you didn’t recognise in the man stood before you, and you quickly swung the door open, ushering him inside.

“come, sit.” you waved for him to follow you across the room to the foot of your bed. he sat down beside you, the mattress dipping.

you patted your lap and he instantly knew what to do, laying down with his head in your lap. it’s something he did quite frequently when you were sprawled on his sofa at home, watching a shitty movie that neither of you were really paying attention to. you’d often be looking at him, praying he didn’t notice, and he’d be playing with your fingers, tracing the palm of your hand.

you couldn’t help yourself, running your hand through his curls. you didn’t mean to, stomach instantly twisting with embarrassment, but it was quickly twisting with something else. his eyes fluttered shut, a low groan falling from the back of his throat. it made your thighs clench, and he must have noticed, the tiniest smirk on his face.

“you okay?” lando asked, his eyes still shut, a look of relaxation finally on his face.

you coughed awkwardly.

“yeah, sorry. are you comfy?” you said teasingly, trying to cut the growing tension in the room.

“i am now, could fall asleep here.”

“you can, you know.” you whispered. his eyes flew open. your heart was hammering in your chest. this was new territory and you were worried you’d fucked up. sleepovers were also a norm, but one of you usually retired to a guest room, not the other side of eachothers beds.

“you want me to stay?” his voice rose in surprise.

“well, i mean, you can if you want, like, there’s space and-“ you rambled.

“do you want me to stay?” he repeated.

“is it gonna help?” you questioned cautiously.

“yes.” the confidence in which he replied did something to you.

“then stay.”

you crawled up the mattress, falling back into the place you’d so comfortably occupied just minutes before. you laid so still, watching with quiet curiosity as he slipped his hoodie off. his shirt came with it ever so slightly, riding up over his back, and you had to pry your eyes away, the ache between your thighs still ever present.

what on earth were you doing, allowing your best friend to crawl into bed with you? emotions were running so high, but it felt like a switch had been flipped ever since you hit the tarmac in qatar. every look, every touch was fuelled by something different to what it had been before and you weren’t sure if it was a good thing or not.

lando turned towards you, making his way back over to the bed. he looked apprehensive, as if he was thinking the same thoughts as you, wondering if there was any logic in what was about to happen. he seemed to come to the conclusion that this was, in fact, happening, crawling into bed beside you.

“is this okay?” lando breathed into the darkness of the room, his hand brushing yours. you were both as still as planks, mere centimetres separating you, the only light coming from the lamp beside the bed.

“yeah,” you took a deep breath, preparing for the words that were about to come tumbling out. “i’ve just never done this before.” you spoke quickly, sucking in another breath as you finished.

“you’ve never…”

“i’ve never shared a bed… like this.”

“like what?”

“with a… a guy?” your anxiety riddled words came out more like a question than an answer.

“oh. oh.” it seemed to dawn on lando then. “so, you’ve never… oh. i mean i can go if you’re uncomfortable.”

“lando, no, i just wanted you to know. i’m always comfortable with you.” you said, quietly baring your soul to him.

you weren’t sure why you’d basically told him you were a virgin. it held no relevance, he was just here to sleep, for some friendly comfort. he was not here for any other reason. and yet here you were, spilling the beans, all over the bed you found yourself sharing.

“i didn’t come here to, you know. i just needed you.”

you tried to ignore the pang in your chest and the annoying, minuscule butterfly springing to life in your belly.

“god, yeah i know! i didn’t think that you wanted to, well i mean not with me because why would you want me like that anyway, i get why you’re here, lando.” you rambled into the empty air. you heard yourself, groaning in embarrassment and dragging the cover over your face. lando laughed, pulling it back so he could see you again.

he was leaning over you, perched on his side, resting on his elbow.

“trust me, i’m more than happy with any part of yourself that you wanna give me.”

“don’t tease me, lando.” you scoffed. he was joking, right? right?

“i’m not! i promise, this is the one place i want to be.”

“why? why with me? i mean you could’ve called max. all he does is stream when you’re not home, think he misses you.” you were half joking, half deadly serious.

“come on, it’s you. it’s just… its been so hard this year, being away from you so much more. and then you came all the way here…” lando trailed off, averting eye contact.

you turned on your side to face him, placing your hand over his affectionately.

“you needed me.”

“exactly. i needed you. you.”

he gave you a look, one that you didn’t recognise, but you understood what it meant. it said more than anything had done since this confusingly beautiful interaction began. you got it, then, why you were here.

“lando-“

“i know that i shouldn’t tell you this and i can’t just spring this on you in the middle of the night, but i-“

“lando!”

“what?”

“kiss me.”

and god, he kissed you. the air was sucked out of your lungs, dragged out of you by the way he put his hands on your body, so urgent.

you sunk back into the mattress, his body over yours, a hand cupping your cheek while the other rested on your waist, stroking the skin there, exposed from your ridden up top. your hands were in his curls, and you revelled in the way that you could shamelessly touch them now.

he paused for a second, nose brushing yours, breathless and grinning down at you, a knowing smile that was so beautiful that it rendered you speechless.

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this.” lando breathed, scanning your face as if he was trying to take it all in. you, panting beneath him, coy smile, cheeks flushed. you’d never looked so gorgeous to him.

you leaned in to kiss him again, slower this time, relishing in the moment. you were lost in him, thinking back to the very first time you’d locked eyes and how you never thought it would come to this. this, the way he was holding you, was the best surprise.

lando pulled away, peppering your flushed cheeks with kisses, a dazed giggle passing your swollen lips.

he flopped onto his side, grinning at the ceiling mindlessly. you hadn’t seen him smile that big all weekend.

“are you tired?” you whispered, lips brushing his cheek, his light stubble rough against you. you wondered how it would feel elsewhere, scratching over your bare skin.

“no.”

“then why did you stop?” you asked, the words falling off your tongue slowly, sinking all over him like honey. you felt the way he tensed up, the suggestion that laced the seemingly innocent question making you tingle.

“i didn’t come here for that.” he reiterated.

“and i didn’t let you in for that. but here we are.” you weren’t ashamed of what you were asking, the moment was right, the one, and you knew it.

“it’s too soon.” lando was apprehensive. he was always overly protective of you, previously as his friend, but this, god, this was an entirely different ball park and he was proceeding with caution, against every natural instinct in his body screaming at him.

“says who?”

“it’s your first. it needs to be special.”

“everything about this is better than i could have ever imagined.”

“are you sure you want it to be me?” there it was again, those unrecognisable nerves that made everything inside of you flutter.

“lando, there is no one else i could ever want to do this with more than i want to do it with you. i want it to be you.”

“but… now? are you sure? i don’t want you to regret this.”

“the only thing i regret is that this didn’t happen sooner.”

“one last time. i just need to hear it one last time.”

“i want you, lando.”

and with that, the air changed, charged with a different kind of tension. lando pulled you on top of him, hands firm on your body, the action itself gentle. you steadied yourself, hands on his shoulders, his resting on your waist.

“can i take this off?” he tugged at the hem of your shirt. you nodded profusely. “words, sweetheart. i need you to use your words.” lando cupped your jaw as he said it, squeezing ever so slightly, enough to turn you into putty in his hands.

“please. yes.” you said shakily.

he smiled softly, slowly peeling the material off of your body, up over your head and tossed carelessly onto the floor. he kept his eyes on yours, despite the fact you were now left bare, aside from the white cotton panties that separated you both. he pawed at your sides, kneading gently at your soft hips.

“we’re gonna start slow, okay? gonna take my time with you.” he muttered, eyes on yours before they trailed slowly down, across your face, neck, collarbone, further and further until he was taking all of you in. he began to stroke the underside of your breast with his thumb, watching the way your body tensed under his feather-like touch.

“okay.” you choked out, head tipping back as he placed a kiss to the base of your throat.

his kiss trailed further down your body, peppered in the valley of your breasts, and then you stopped breathing, the air caught in your throat because he was looking at you, really, truly looking at you, as his tongue found your nipple. you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, not when he was looking at you like that, not when he was making you feel this good already.

lando pulled away, just for a second, just so that he could shift you from his lap onto his thigh. he was still fully clothed beneath you, totally in control, and you craved him in a way you didn’t know was humanly possible, so much so that you didn’t need the encouragement he was giving you to start rolling your hips, pussy grinding down on his covered thighs, the friction of your underwear driving you insane.

“oh, baby. you want me so badly, don’t you? should’ve asked me sooner. m’gonna make you feel so good.” his hands were on your hips, guiding you backwards and forwards on him.

“it feels so- oh, god.” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls, back arching further into him as your thighs clenched around his. he licked over your collarbone oh so slowly, a shiver running down your taut spine.

and then he was kissing you again, tongue slow over yours, his fingertips surely leaving marks where he was controlling your pace. the kiss was filthy, untameable, and you found yourself dragging against him slower, harder.

“i need you.” you panted, forehead falling on his shoulder as you pulled away from his lips, goosebumps pricking your sweat slicked skin. you were so close to an orgasm, desperate to feel him everywhere.

“i want you to come for me like this first, okay? can you do that for me, baby?” he cooed, bouncing his leg ever so slightly. “look at me.” and you did, somehow mustering the strength to pull yourself back up and find his darkened eyes.

you were a mess of curses when you let go, your body convulsing, collapsing into him as you came. you were throbbing on his thigh, one glance down at where you were grinding against him displaying your slick. his arms went around your body, flipping you onto your back so that you were resting against the mattress.

“you did so well, baby.” lando crooned, resting over you on his forearms. you stared up at him in awe, blinking away the haze. “do you want more?”

“i want everything.” you breathed, pulling him against you. you smoothed your hands over his shirt until you reached the hem, dragging it up over his back. he helped you take it off, and then it was lost to the room. you grabbed at his shoulder blades, smooth, muscular planes of bronzed skin so warm under your touch. you felt insatiable, like nothing was enough, totally intoxicated by him and everything he was managing to make you feel.

lando’s hand slid down your body, searching for the band of your underwear. when he reached his destination, he toyed with the lacy edges, letting them snap against the pudge of your belly, teasing you. you bucked your hips, frustrated, and he used the opportunity to cup your pussy, feeling where you’d soaked through the cotton. the groan he let out was carnal, animalistic, almost needy. he could feel all of you, how you ached and dripped, how you needed the everything that you’d requested.

“you’re so fucking good for me, god.” lando almost slurred his words, voice lower than you’d ever heard it. you keened at the sound, pushing your hips further into him.

lando didn’t give you much time to dwell on it, mouth latching onto your underwear where it met the crease of your thigh. he was so close, so tantalising close to where you were aching for him and you were just about levitating off the bed when his teeth grazed your inner thigh. you couldn’t see him looking at you, losing it, inhibitions out the window. your eyes were already squeezed shut when he began mouthing over your cloth-covered pussy, spit further ruining the sodden material.

“take them off.” you cried out, tugging hard at his curls that you hadn’t even realised you were clutching for dear life. and lando was a good listener, because he complied immediately, tearing the lace down your legs like a starved man.

his tongue was on you then, everywhere all at once, running through your folds and over your clit. you didn’t know if you were dead or alive, a different kind of pleasure than anything you’d ever experienced coursing hot through your veins. lando switched between long, slow licks, his tongue flat against you, and rapid kitten licks, burying his face in your cunt.

everything was moving in slow motion, your hands grasping frantically at anything you could reach; his curls, the sheets, his shoulders. you could barely make out what he was saying, his words muffled, lost to the soft flesh between your legs. it seemed to echo, every lick, stroke, word. you snapped out of it, finally, when he pulled away.

“more? you want my fingers, baby? gonna get you nice and ready for me.” you just nodded, voice lost to the air of the room.

one arm locked around your thigh, pinning you still, and the other snaked up your leg until he reached the mess between your thighs. he took a moment to take it in, how wet you were, how fucked out you looked, knowing full well he must have looked the same, unhinged as he gave into your shared desire that he’d tried his best to keep hidden. he’d never felt more stupid in his life for holding back, as he took in the ethereal delight sprawled under his touch.

when lando slid the first finger in, your stomach twisted deliciously. he watched you carefully, searching for discomfort but all he could find was sheer bliss, written all over your face as clear as daylight. he worked the digit in and out, nice and slow, curling against your walls. he could feel how tight you were, clamping around just one finger and he thought his head was gonna explode. he added another finger, watching the way you took him in, twisting his fingers.

“are you gonna let go for me again, sweetheart?” lando punctuated his words by putting his mouth back on you, teeth grazing your clit as he sucked.

you were thrashing, a silent scream building from the fire in your belly. you could just about make out the way he was spurring you on, his mouth running as you spilled over the edge, covering his fingers. you saw white, maybe god, ears ringing, and when you finally mustered the energy to look at him, you could have come for a third time. lando looked feral, lips red and coated in everything you had to offer him. his eyes were glazed over, a hazy grey that sent a jolt through your body, the aftershocks of the orgasm setting in.

“christ.” was all you could sigh out. a lazy smile painted your face, your eyes blown out, everything a little blurry. everything except him.

you could feel him scaling up your body, crawling over you until he was level with your face. he placed a kiss to your throat, your jaw and finally your lips; when he pulled away all that was left was shared giddy smile, both of you suddenly shy. you couldn’t stop the roaming of your hands, exploring all the parts of him that you could reach. when you found the waist band of his joggers, your hand grazing his abs as you did, he sucked all of the air out of the room, a sharp inhalation making him tense up.

“you still want all of me?” he breathed, his shaky breath fanning your face. lando was obsessed with hearing you say it, obsessed with how you wanted him as much as he needed you.

“all of you. lando, this is… you’re perfect.” you admitted, lips brushing his. your hands pushed the material down his hips, nails raking over him as you did. he couldn’t seem to wait any longer, kicking them off the rest of the way, his boxers quickly following suit.

you couldn’t help but stare, all of him bare against all of you. your nipples brushed his chest, his hands holding you close, your hands threaded through his curls. it was like you were sussing each other out, eyes watching lips and hands getting lost. you stayed like that for a moment, pressed together, closer and closer, until he was slotted between your legs like he was coming home. lando searched your face one last time, hunting for a smidge of discomfort.

“are you ready for me?” he whispered.

“yes.”

the initial stretch burned, but he slid into you smoothly, his cock slipping through your folds with ease. he felt you clamp down on him, his head thrown back as far as it could go, thick neck exposed to you. you bit down on his shoulder, where it met the base of his throat, trying to mask the gasp of pleasure that sent your eyes rolling back in your head. he grunted at the sensation, enjoying the sting.

“oh, fuck.” he was shuddering, trying to keep himself in check.

“don’t, oh god,” you started, meeting the roll of his hips. “don’t hold back.”

“we gotta go easy.”

“i don’t want easy.” you tightened around him then, and he saw stars.

“you’re so fucking good.” lando groaned, an edge of excitement in his voice, and then he unleashed everything that he’d held back. how much he wanted you, and a bittersweet weekend of frustration versus success came crashing down and he couldn’t do anything except give himself to you exactly how you wanted.

lando was a delicious weight on top of you, the drag of his hips slow, meeting yours hard. the pressure made you lightheaded, his body moving against yours like the thick drip of honey, smooth and sweet. you couldn’t make sense of it, of how fucking good he felt, grinding deeper and deeper into you like he’d found buried treasure. the overstimulation had your third orgasm building nice and quick, waves of pleasure making you dizzy.

“you like it like this? like when i fuck you nice and hard?” yes you did. “don’t think i can go without this now, you know that? such a good fucking girl.” you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, just let his words wash over you. “so beautiful, taking me so well.”

you couldn’t process that this was your best friend lando. this was a different person, it had to be. yet, somehow, it made sense that the man you knew, the one who spoke his mind, mischievous and troublesome, would be like this, a god above you as he fucked deeper into you with every thrust. he was filthy and gentle, brutal and sweet. it didn’t make sense, but it also just did.

“are you gonna come for me? one more time, baby. need to feel that perfect fucking pussy.” well, his wish was your command, because then you were gushing. the one thing you could feel was him, none of your other senses worked, you couldn’t see past the tears that fell, couldn’t get any words past your lips. maybe you screamed, you weren’t exactly sure.

lando was kissing you everywhere. each hip bone was met with his lips, your stomach, over your ribs, breasts, clavicle, neck. your face was covered in kisses next, your cheeks, forehead, a dainty peck to your nose.

“can you look at me?”

your eyes cracked open slowly, the exhaustion hitting as you came back to reality.

“was that okay?” there he was again, this shy version of lando that you couldn’t get used to.

“okay? lando that was…” you shook your head in awe. “that meant everything to me.”

he smiled then, that gorgeous, gorgeous smile, the one with the crinkles by his eyes and his teeth on full display. you melted.

“me too. you’re fucking beautiful. so, so fucking beautiful. should’ve told you sooner.” he murmured.

his words made you think, way too hard for your current state. what happened next? lando had said some things, some pretty big things that you didn’t know how to comprehend. it was crazy, how scared you were to bring it back up to him, considering he’d just been inside of you.

“sooner?” you whispered, hardly audible. lando was midway through tucking you both into bed, pulling your flushed, naked body into his own under the duvet.

“yes. a lot sooner.” he replied, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

‘how much sooner?’ you thought to yourself, unable to stay awake any longer to agonise over it, your dreams haunted by the way he touched you so well. it was magnificent to fall asleep in his arms, and you couldn’t help yourself from wondering when it would happen again.

you woke up tangled with him, fingers stroking your cheek, smoothing your hair out of your eyes.

lando was always so warm, but now his tanned skin radiated sunshine, a beacon of light in your bed. you smiled, eyes still shut, shielding yourself from the streaks of light casting over the room from the crack in the curtains.

“what time is it?” you croaked, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub away the sleep.

“gone eleven. i need to go, baby.”

baby.

you hadn’t gotten a chance to take my notice of the things he’d called you last night, too caught up in the way he played with your body. now that you heard it, in the calm after the storm, it made you swoon.

“already?” you tried to hide your disappointment, not quite ready to detangle yourself from him.

“need to get to the track. i think i’m already late. i just wanted to be here when you woke up.” lando sounded so soft, not as groggy as you, and you wondered how long he’d been awake, watching the soft rise and fall of your chest.

“thank you.” you knew that you’d have spiralled waking up alone, and you were immensely grateful that he’d stayed.

lando began to get up, wincing at your whine of protest.

“i’m sorry. i’ll have someone pick you up later, okay? i’ll see you soon, i promise.”

you knew he had to work hard today, knew how much analysis he needed to do before the race. he was starting further back than anyone would have liked, and he had something to prove as well, oscar starting too close to the front for lando’s liking. there were places to make up and hard work to be done to get back to the front.

“don’t apologise. i hope it goes smoothly today.” you smiled at him, watching him collect his long forgotten clothes. you were entranced by the way his body moved, the lines and shapes that tensed and rippled as he dressed himself.

“i’ll message you.” he promised, creeping back over to the bed. you weren’t sure what to expect, but the soft kiss to your lips, almost apprehensive on his part, could have killed you off, your heart pounding.

your grinned like a fool when the door shut behind him.

the shower was burning hot, loosening up your muscles. you cleaned yourself slowly, examining your body, the same one that you’d given to lando. he’d taken you apart, piece by piece, and put you back together, the traces of him that he’d left behind delectably apparent.

you followed the trail of marks he’d left, starting with the love bite below your right breast that you couldn’t even remember him leaving, making your way to the litter of fingerprints that were tattooed into your hips. your fingertips ghosted over your swollen lips, the kiss that he’d left at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, reminiscing the evening. you seemed to ache everywhere, the dull pain setting into your bones so nicely.

you prayed it would happen again. you felt like it would, everything between you had changed now, changed from any possible return to the norm. you wanted it to change, you couldn’t fathom the idea of staying friends when the lines had blurred like this, when he’d kissed you so deeply, touched you so intimately.

the shower was much needed, refreshing your body that was now tainted by him in the best way. you tried to keep a clear head while you got yourself ready, taking your time to make yourself presentable to the paddock. the time of your departure was looming, the pink and white sunset outside your window indicating that the race was only a few hours away. the air had cooled slightly, and you knew you needed to make your way to the lobby.

your phone dinged in your hand as you were packing your essentials into your bag. you glanced down at the device, unruly smile gracing your face.

see you soon, the text read, an orange love heart punctuating the short but sweet text. it was safe to say that the butterflies in your belly were well and truly alive.

the screen beeped as you scanned your paddock pass, and you slipped through the gate, making your way into the paddock. it was beautiful in qatar, they’d outdone themselves with this structure, the glass ceilings and jungle of greenery an expression of wealth and elegance.

you made a beeline for the mclaren garage, greeting lando’s pr officer who smiled warmly at you. you recognised oscar smirking as you appeared in the garage, and as you got closer you realised why.

“nice to see you. looking for lando?” his monotonous voice held an amused twang.

“hey oscar, great job last night!” you said, waiting for the other shoe to drop. “yeah, is he around here somewhere?”

“yeah he’s just doing press i think. extra spring in his step today.” oscar gave you a knowing look, one that made you blush.

“what do you know?” you deadpanned, fighting back laughter.

“i know that this was a long time coming.” he smiled, and then he was gone, lost to the bustle of the garage.

you stood there, probably in the way, lost in thought about what oscar had just said. he was right, this was a long time coming.

you jumped a bit when a hand landed on your waist, relaxing instantly into lando’s body when he pressed himself against you, head on your shoulder.

“i’m so glad you’re here.” he whispered, pressing a secret kiss under your ear, and then he, too, was gone, before you could even react.

your nerves were shot, ushered to the back of the garage where you found a headset. you chewed your nails, anxious about it all. the race, the changes that you were surely coming. you wanted it, wanted everything from him that he’d give you, willing to commit to all of it, to him. the distance, borrowed time, chaos of his world. last night had changed everything and you couldn’t have asked for more.

eventually the lights went out and the fight was underway. you found your hands clasped together, sweating in the dry heat and the anxiety. you clapped every time he made an overtake, storming through the field. when he made it into p3, picking the pace up on oscar, the nerves resurged and you prayed for a clean end to this race.

lando’s radio messages flooded your ears, and your leg bounced uncontrollably, your shoe slapping against the floor.

“be sensible, lando.” you muttered under your breath, resting your chin on your tightly clasped hands. he would be on the podium, but you knew it wasn’t enough for him, it never was. would you be enough for him?

eventually he agreed to hold position, thank fuck, and you could breathe again. he’d driven a beautiful recovery drive, bringing the car onto the podium, and you rushed out with the team to congratulate him. you lingered at the back of the pack behind the metal barriers, watching in quiet admiration as he jumped out of the car. he slapped oscar on the back, hugging his younger teammate before bounding towards the team. his head was darting around as if he was looking for something, but you couldn’t make it out with his helmet still on. and then the helmet came off and it became clear.

he was looking for you.

lando pulled away from a hug with a mechanic, leaning over the barrier right in front of you. you gravitated towards him, somehow moving through the swarm of team members until you were pressed against the metal too. he was beaming, eyes brighter than they had been all working weekend, and then his hands were on you. the hug he pulled you into was tight and you clung to one another for a moment, unbothered by his damp race suit, or the tickle of his sweat slicked curls.

the kiss he pressed to your cheek was far less secret than the one in the garage, so was the one he pressed to your forehead, but the one he pressed to your lips, as quick as it may have been, was the one that really took the cake. you were blushing when he pulled back, a mischievous grin on his face. you shook your head in disbelief at his boldness, unable to tame your bewildered smile.

“what are you doing for dinner, baby?” he called out to you as he walked away. the podium high had clearly set in.

nothing, you mouthed back, not quite confident enough to shout across parc ferme.

“good, we’re going on a date.” lando winked and then he was gone, pulled into the chaos of post race duties.

tears pricked your eyes when he stood on the podium, a much happier man than the one you found when you’d arrived. you couldn’t put it into words, how one night had changed everything, giving you everything you didn’t realise you wanted.

then again, lando was always good at beating expectations.

hehe the end

taglist

had to remove some tags that aren’t working! let me know if you wanna be added or removed xo

@boysthatgovroomvroom @thegirlinthefandoms @welld0nebaku @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @turningxstrange @rachstash @infinitebells @multilovebot @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @yeolsbubbles @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @organasith @micks-afterglow @blueflorals @juno-1610 @lqvesoph @wilmasvensson @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @h0e-xoxo @mattxxamryli @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3

6K notes · View notes

cheriladycl01 · 2 months

Note

Would you be up for writing a fanfic with Lando or Max x reader where reader also races but due to the training and harsh training her team and trainer are putting her through develops an ED (common among competitive sports and I’ve got experience 😭) maybe Reader faints or her bf finds out? No problem if not 😘 love your writing!

Those inward struggles - Max Verstappen x Driver! Reader

Plot: After having to change you diet and do more work after struggling in Singapore you spend a year on strict training away from your boyfriends knowledge. What happens when a year on and people are noticing how much more exhausted your looking after each race.

Warnings: Eating Disorder, Reader Being Sick

Singapore and Qatar 2022 was extremely hard for you. Your body temperature in the car didn't regulate that well and you lost way more weight than any other driver.

You new that the 2023 season was going to be even harder with where the races were placed in the year.

Your physician wanted you to keep the weight off. The lower your body mass, the less you'd struggle with the heat. That was their thought process and that's what they deemed best for you as a woman. So of course, you trusted the team's decisions and you started to train more, and eating in a calorie deficit.

They'd come up with a plan for you to loose a safe amount in a safe amount of time, however it almost felt like a competition and you wanted to be as ready as possible.

At first it was hard, you craved sugar and grease the most but eventually once the majority was out of your system the vegetables and fruits started to taste like when you have a sip of that half stagnant water at 3am when your body decided to lower your thirst bar all the way down.

Max as a driver had also seen how much more you were with your personal trainer, and how it didn't just stop when you got home as you would often be in your home gym.

You'd serve yourself less and meals than him and he noticed these little things. Of course he did, he'd been obsessed with you since he was a 13 year old and both of you met in karting.

You started dating a year before he got into F1 quite literally being the definition of childhood romance. But this did mean that he knew you like the back of his hand.

"Baby, how about a sweet treat?" he asks holding up your fav type of cookie waving it in front of your face.

"I really shouldn't, I think the team wouldn't be happy if they found out I was eating more than i should!" you explain to him, continuing to wash the dishes from earlier that night.

"But... you didn't have much for dinner and you skipped lunch!" he asks remembering what you'd eaten throughout the day.

"Oh? So your keeping tabs on me now?" you ask looking him over with a soft yet teasing frown.

"Well, when your with me for a good portion of the day I notice" he grumbles making you turn your head to him at that tone, it wasn't one he used often.

"Huh?" you say leaving the dishes fully in the sink before placing a hand on your hip.

"Look, It's not just me noticing it but your not healthy right now!" Max offers and you turn back round to do the washing up.

Your trainer said you might feel a little tired and icky while you were on such a strict diet but once you'd got to your goal weight you'd feel better.

"Please just eat the cookie!" he smiles and you roll your eyes. You take the cookie and finish it off under his watchful eye. It tasted so good, but you almost gagged at how heavy the chocolate felt at the back of your throat and how you could feel the chunkiness of the chewed batter.

There wasn't that fresh aftertaste you been getting recently from the various fruits and veges you'd been relying on to get you eating something.

You gagged at something that used to be a delicacy too you, something that would excite you. However you finished it off to please Max. Once he was satisfied you had your filling he explained he was going out to a set with Lando, Daniel and Charles.

You'd already said you wanted to stay home today.

The minute he was out the door you were in the bathroom getting the sugary sweet treat out of your body, feeling disgusting from having had it.

The guilt was eating away at you the minute you had it, you knew just how unhappy the trainer would be. You spent the rest of the evening in the gym, weighing yourself before and after the session.

To your dismay there was no improvement and you sat in the gym crying over you predicament.

It was time for the 2023 Qatar Grand Prix, you were already struggling just walking round the paddock in the areas that didn't have aircon. When you'd done your track walk, you could feel the damp sweat on areas of your body you didn't know was possible.

However, you pushed and pushed yourself through the whole weekend, you drunk lots of water and made sure to keep up with the exercising and kept eating to a minimum.

When you'd got in the car for the first practice your hard work seemed to pay of, coming P4. Again in qualifying you'd had a fastest lap in Q2 and split the Mercedes up Q3 coming P3 behind Max and George. Both of these weren't too bad, it was in short bursts that didn't make you too hot.

However as the weekend moved forward, it was obvious to your team, to Max and to the media that you were becoming more and more exhausted. A lot of people noted that your tailored race suit was starting to bag in places it shouldn't and that you had sunken areas on your face, making you look all the more exhausted.

The Sprint shootout was awful, you placing 9th fastest overall, which compared to your earlier racing was no good for you or your team.

You only managed to move up one place to P8 in the Sprint, meaning you were in the points but you were taken to the medical tent after reporting feeling dizzy and your sight spotting.

Max had headed over to the Aston Martin garage asking for you, all the mechanics just saying you were still with medical. He rushed over, quicker than his car on a flying lap as no-body actually knew what was wrong with you.

"Y/N?" you'd heard as he'd come storming in looking around for you.

"I'm in here!" you said and he came over taking your hand in his.

"What's going on, what's wrong?" he asks looking over you.

"Nothing, just had a bit of a migraine. Apparently not enough water!" you lie, knowing the doctors were still doing tests but they said you were free to leave.

You'd left, he'd comforted you at the hotel making sure you had everything you could possibly need before you both slept away the tire of the day.

Sunday of course was a shit show. Medical still hadn't fully worked out what was wrong with you and they were debating pulling you from the race. You'd refused saying you were fine to race.

You were 20 laps in when your vision started to blur until ringing in your head occurred.

You tried to keep up with the fluids from your drinks tube but they were just heating up along with everything else in the car.

"Y/N are you okay. Medical have just deemed you should be racing. We want to retire you" your engineer comes through at lap 50.

"7 more laps, I'll be fine" you groan. You'd managed to stick to P4 for the majority of the race. But now that vision in your left eye was pretty poor you were taking turns a little more hesitantly meaning you were down in P6.

You defended from Ocon like your life depended on it, and finally pulled up to the area where the cars sit when the race it over. You sit in the car, in silence trying to get your vision back and stop shaking.

You body ran cold, you were shivering now and could feel the cold sweat in your suit, you wanted to reach up and take your helmet off more than anything but your arms didn't obey.

So you just sat there, until some Aston Martin mechanics came through with water. They helped you out and up handing you a bottle of water. But with the ringing not having stopped your vision completely went as you fell back onto the hard ground of the track.

Max once he'd found out his team and your team and pretty much everyone had kept you fainting from him a secret he had yelled, a lot, at anyone and everyone he could.

Even Lando and Oscar in the cool down room had to be at the receiving end of his wrath.

After his podium that he had tried to make as quick as possible he was right with you. Yelling at everyone while making sure you were getting the correct medical attention.

When he found out the reason behind you fainting and the fact that you drove the last few laps half sighted he was back to MAD MAX, and oh boy it wasn't a pretty sight.

He couldn't believe your team who were supposed to make sure you were in the best health had actually been hindering you and not helping you.

To say the he and Rupert his own personal trainer would be taking over from now on and he'd be hiring a private nutritionist to get you back on track to your starting F1 weight in 2022.

He loved you and would do anything for you.

Taglist:

@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @stupidandunnecessary @clayra-g @daemyratwst @honey-belden @moonypixel @lauralarsen @vader-is-hot @ironcowboycopnickel @itsjustkhaos @the-untamed-soul @beebo86 @happylittlereader @ziejustme @lou-larcher5 @thewulf @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @chillyleclerc @chanthereader @annoyingmoonballoon @summissss @evieepepi08 @havaneseoger08 @celesteblack08 @gulphulp @fandom1ruined2me @celebstories @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhh @georgeparisole @dakotatankbig @youcannotcancelquidditch @zzonsbeek @tallbrownhairsarcastic @mellowarcadefun @ourteenagetragedy @otako5811 @countingstacksandpanicattacks @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @hopexcroc @mirrorball-6 @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @lilypadlover @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @the-fem1n1ne-urge @21stcenturytaegi @dark-night-sky-99 @spideybv28 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @kapsylia @laneyspaulding19 @lazybot @malynn @cassielikereading @viennakarma @teamnovalak @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @jlb20416 @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @seomako @urdad-hot @formula1mount @tinydeskwriter @butterfly-lover @ironmaiden1313

1K notes · View notes

fooled-around-and-fell · 3 months

Note

Can I humbly request a part two to the Carmy fic you just posted? It had me kicking my feet and giggling

Of course!!! Here you go 🩵

summary: you're going to the awards event with carmy, and things happen in the big, fancy, chandelier-ed bathroom.

genre: smut

pairing: carmen berzatto x female reader

warnings: smut, 18+, mdni, unprotected sex, creampie, cursing, almost public sex, bathroom sex

part one (you don't need to read this to catch up).

Masterlist

-----

somehow--from all the teasing, the tension, the touching--somehow, you've agreed to go to the awards event with carmen. as carmen's date.

you're standing in front of your mirror in a navy gown to match carmen's suit, and as your palms are sweating, you pinch yourself mentally to make sure this is really happening.

how did you get here? what the fuck happened in the shop that-

you hear your phone ring. a text from carmen:

i'm outside. no rush. take your time.

okay, no time to panic and go through a crisis. it's go time. you take your purse, put on your heels and go down to meet carmen.

"holy shit." he whispers when he sees you step out of your apartment building.

"hi." you smile shyly.

carmen's smile grows. "you look beautiful."

"thank you. you look handsome."

"all thanks to you." he says.

"you two lovebirds done? we're running late." richie rolls down the window from the driver's seat.

carmen curses richie in his head before opening the door for you, letting you sit next to him at the back while syd takes the passenger seat.

the ride to the event venue isn't quiet. richie is arguing with syd about some stuff for the bear, but your mind is focused on one thing: carmen's hand on your thigh--

--oh, let me rephrase. carmen's left hand on your inner, upper thigh. his hand slipped through the slit of your dress, and he can feel the heat coming from your cunt. you cross your legs so that syd won't be able to see and to get some friction while carmen smirks, squeezing your thigh and sliding his fingers closer to your clothed cunt.

you slowly take a deep breath, gripping his elbow tightly, and he just kisses the side of your forehead.

"stay still." he whispers.

you feel tingly with anticipation, and just as carmen's finger is about to gently, ever so slightly touch your aching clit, richie stops the car and announces, "we're here."

"fucking hell." you curse lowly and earn a chuckle from carmen.

he steps out of the car and helps you out, arm circling your waist and pulling you close once you're on your feet. "don't worry. we've got time."

you can't stop staring at his damned blue eyes and lips. the way he smells so good and the way he looks at you makes your insides churn in the best way possible.

carmen intertwines your hand in his and leads you into the venue. for what carmen called a 'small event', it has more cameramen and is way fancier than what you imagined.

"this is... a lot of people," you comment when the doors to the ballroom open.

carmen's hand is on your lower back, keeping you close. "you want something to drink?"

you nod and carmen first takes you to the table you're all sitting at before asking one of the waiters for the specialty drink. it's some fancy fruit infused champagne that you don't really understand, but if it's alcohol, it'll do.

you're surprised when you see carmen one-shotting the champagne and you touch his leg to get his attention. "carmen, you okay?"

"yeah," he reassures you. "just a little nervous. nothing to worry about."

"carmen's nominated, that's why he's so nervous." richie says. "relax cousin, we all know you're gonna win."

"it's not a big deal, alright? it doesn't matter," carmen says, dismissing the conversation. though he says that, you can see his leg is furiously shaking under the table, so you give his hand a squeeze before standing up.

"i'm gonna use the bathroom." you excuse yourself, but not before giving carmen a look.

you're hoping carmen will take the hint. you didn't exactly have an agreement on what "i'm gonna use the bathroom" with that certain look means, but you're hoping what you're about to do will help with carmen's nerves.

and then you see carmen turning the corner, so while no one is coming, you pull him to the small hallway you're at to hide from the crowd.

"there you are." he smiles.

"hi." you smile back.

carmen's heart is beating fast, and you're hoping it's because of your little getaway. his hand moves to cup your cheek and he brings your face closer to his.

"can i kiss you?"

nodding slowly, you circle your arms around his neck and close your eyes, feeling carmen's soft plush lips against yours. the kiss feels euphoric, feels unreal. he's so gentle yet firm, and the way he holds you so close to him makes you feel safe in his arms.

while breaking the kiss to catch your breaths, carmen peeks out to see if anyone's around.

"what're you doing?" you ask.

carmen has a smirk on his face, and though he looks super handsome, what carmen has in mind is definitely what you thought of when you signaled him to follow you to the bathroom.

he sneaks you into the men's bathroom while it's empty and goes into one of the stalls. the door and walls of the stall is covered from floor to ceiling, so no one can really tell a woman's in there unless you make a sound.

"carmen," you whisper, eyes wide to tell him how crazy this is.

"what?" he chuckles, kissing you again.

"what if someone hears me?" you ask in between.

smirking again, carmen kisses the spot just below your ear. "then you'll have to keep quiet."

"but-"

your sentence gets cut off when you hear someone enter the bathroom. it's a big bathroom, which means the chances of someone catching you two is smaller, but it also means that voices echo.

your eyes keep staring at carmen in disbelief when he slips his hand through the slit of your dress and inches slowly to your core. you have to cover your mouth and hold back a gasp when he suddenly drags his thumb over your clit.

but he doesn't move his thumb. it's just there, touching your clit, applying just enough pressure to leave you wanting more. you'd unconsciously clench from the lack of friction, and carmen's smirk only grows.

you buck your hips up and carmen holds it in place with his other hand. "patience." he whispers.

with pleading eyes, you take his hand and drag it down to the wetness pooling between your legs. "please carmen," you whisper, "i need you."

"holy shit." carmen's jaw drops.

carmen pushes your soaked panties aside and his fingers come in contact with your wetness. almost instinctively, carmen drops down to his knees. and, while keeping eye contact with you, he bunches your gown up, pulls your sticky panties down, and slowly kisses just above your clit.

"jesus-" you almost say out loud and slap your mouth shut, just in time for the door outside to open and a few men come in talking.

carmen squeezes your thigh before kissing the same spot and placing your hand on his head. he starts licking just below the surface, softly, gently, but when your frustration leads you to pull a fistful of his hair, carmen gets the hint and picks up his pace.

not making a sound is fucking hard, but with carmen's head between your legs sloppily devouring you, your voice is the least of your worries right now. you gently pull carmen up to stand. "as much as i would love you to finish what you're doing... i don't think we the time or place for that."

you help him with his belt and pull his pants down just enough to free his constrained cock and stroke it a few times. carmen bites his tongue as to not moan out loud and turns you around, pushing your dress out of the way again and rubs himself between your slit.

"fucking hell." he sighs when he pushes into you, feeling your warmth and tightness.

he can't go too fast, because it'll be too loud. but going slow would kill both of you. he tries to control his pace so that his balls won't slap against your clit, but the few times that they do, you try your best not to cry out of pleasure.

carmen feels so fucking good inside you. it's as if he was made out of a mold and that mold is your pussy.

your one hand is still covering your mouth while the other is pushing your weight against the door. you feel someone checking whether your stall is available or not before going to the next stall. you look back at carmen to signal him to stop moving so he won't hear you, but carmen has a different idea.

one of his hands is holding your hips and your gown on the side, and the other sneaks around under to where you're connected and he starts touching the bundle of nerves that's already throbbing.

your eyes widen as you shake your head at him, trying to tell him "don't you dare", but carmen, indeed, dares. not so slowly, carmen rubs your clit while thrusting his hips, causing your eyes to roll back while you try to keep your panting to a minimum.

carmen bends over to fully push your body against the door and nips at your neck, urging you to come around him as he comes inside you, feeling your pulsing walls.

"fuck." carmen says out loud and your eyes snap wide open to look at him, as if saying "what have you done".

but there is no response anyone, just the sound of the sink being turned off and the door being closed. that was a close one.

carmen holds back his laughter and turns you around, kissing you over and over, and not letting you go. his way of saying "you're fucking amazing."

later that night, carmen wins the award and thanks everyone on his team, his family, and though he didn't specifically mention your name on stage, the knowing smile he sent you and the things he did to you after the show were more than enough to convey how special you are to him.

355 notes · View notes

saltpepperbeard · 6 months

Text

so, hastiness of the sex and the literal and figurative distance that follows aside, something was really bugging me about the morning after. i couldn’t put my finger on it for a while, but now that i’ve sat with things, i think it’s finally clicked in my head:

stede’s reactions to ed’s sweetness. or lack thereof, really.

because goodness, they just slept together. they just bared body and soul to each other. they just survived a dangerous situation and made it to see the sun rise once again. they’ve been through so much, and faced so much adversity.

and despite all they’ve been through, ed is kind. ed is thoughtful, and soft, and sweet. he brings stede breakfast in bed. he tries to make it as pretty as he can. and then weaves beautiful gratitude and admiration in the form of his goldfish tale.

something that should make anyone sigh with fondness, really. something that make eyes flutter with hearts to match.

…and yet.

and yet stede reacts almost…casually to it all. not glittery how he was at the end of episode 5, for example—so warm and so bright and so very clearly in love. it all felt a bit more…stunted? reserved? unnecessarily curt?

and upon sitting with it as i said, i have two lines of thought, two theories.

one, it’s a sort of look into the heightening poison in his system, the good ol’ villain that is toxic masculinity. he feels the need to perform around ed, to be a man worthy of his love. he feels the need to be more than just “adequate,” more than just an “amateur.” and so he feels the need to be more masculine as a result. he’s not quite at his peak of course, not quite in the absolute thick of it—he still has moments closer to himself throughout the day. but the more poisonous seeds have been planted.

and what does that sort of masculinity often lead to? reserved emotions. stunted reactions. you’re not allowed to show vulnerability, or softness, or anything of the sort; you’re expected to be just a wall of strength and flat composure.

which, also, would align with the show: ed actively tries to combat that mentality in the morning. he straight up tells stede that the man who saved him was a fantastic, orange, sparkly mermaid. not some swashbuckling hero. not some colder, mysterious, more reserved man. but a beautiful, soft, dazzling goldfish.

and stede sort of just shrugs it off—turns it into a “well i hope we’ll both get through the violence” as opposed to realizing that ed is complimenting his true character.

but that brings me to my second theory: maybe stede reacts the way he does simply because…he’s never been loved like that before. he doesn’t know what to do with it. he’s never been brought breakfast in bed before, and now there ed goes doing so for him.

he seems to be fine when he's the one in the driver's seat. like, he's very romantic when he's dealing out the romance. but the second it's turned back on him, he can't seem to conceptualize it, even when it's coming from a man he knows he's in love with. like, ed complimenting his shirt led to a more incredulous reaction. ed saying that stede wears fine things well also led to a more incredulous reaction. and like...

"then you shaved your beard off...for me?"

he just can't grasp it. he can't grasp something so new and foreign to him quite yet. and it's of course also wrapped up in a lot of self-worth issues, because how can anyone love him when he really doesn't love himself (which i think is also the same for ed. help them. HELP THEM)

you just...can't catch a fish unless the fish wants to be caught.

#OFMD #OFMD Season 2 #OFMD S2 Spoilers #Stede Bonnet #Gentlebeard #Blackbonnet #Edward Teach #Revenge Rambles #morning lol MORNING #THIS IS A LOOOONG ONE #and maybe a little disjointed please excuse #but like lol man #MAN #I AM //LOOKING//#these two really have so SO much to work through huh #continuing to light the candles for a season 3 manifestation as we speak because goodness gracious

537 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 2 months

Note

obsessed with the idea of driving lessons with Steve or Eddie<3 in Stevie’s car orrr in Eddie’s van! reader being a terrible driver and steve or eddie being to nice to call it out :’)

Thanks for requesting!

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

You think you’d feel a bit better if Eddie didn’t keep squeezing his eyes shut. He’d been the one to make the call that you were ready for the highway, promising you a million times that it’d be fine despite your apprehension, but as soon as you’d gotten on the entrance ramp his confidence had seemed to flee him—which isn’t ideal, because he was the only one of you that had any to begin with.

“Eddie.” Your voice pitches, knuckles white on the steering wheel. “The car behind me is getting really close.”

“He’ll go around us,” your boyfriend says without opening his eyes. He takes a breath, cracks an eyelid. “You’ve got it, you’re good. We’re all good. Everything is fine and dandy.”

You wonder how much of this is for you.

You stay there for a while, eyes volleying between your mirrors and the speedometer, until you come upon a car in front of you that can’t be going more than forty. You take your foot off the gas, coasting down to its speed.

“Go around him,” Eddie instructs.

You glance into the next lane, just as a car whooshes past your window. “I can’t,” you say, voice going high.

“You can do it,” he says, though his hand curls around the handlebar above his window. “Just look for an opening, speed up, and change lanes.”

You take a few quick breaths before pushing down on the gas, head whipping around to check your blind spot before you signal and move over. Another car tries to switch lanes at the same time, blaring their horn at you, and you shriek and swerve back into your lane, slamming on the brakes to avoid rear-ending the slow car in front of you.

“Jesus Hendrix Christ,” Eddie hisses. Then, with more pep, “Doing great, baby!”

“I can’t do this!”

“You don’t really have a choice at this point!”

“What?”

“I mean, yeah you can!” Your boyfriend’s nearly wheezing, head on a swivel as he keeps track of the cars around you. “You’re doing awesome.”

“I almost hit someone!” you remind him, voice starting to waver as panicked tears clog your throat.

“Not your fault.” His hand wraps around your thigh, squeezing so the cool metal of his rings bites into your skin. “He didn’t see you either, he was just being a dick about it. You acted fast, which—which is the best thing you could’ve done.”

Your lip wobbles. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure as shit, baby. Take a breath, okay? Panicking makes you a bad driver.”

“Pretty sure I already am a bad driver,” you say, but do your best to fill your lungs anyway.

“Nah, you’re the best I know.” Eddie’s hand rubs your thigh soothingly, at odds with the tension in his voice. “Not including myself, obviously. But it’s fine, you’re learning.”

You want desperately to take his hand but can’t risk taking one off the wheel. You glance in your rear view mirror, watching cars go around you and the clunker barely trudging along in front of you.

You chew your lip. “Can we be done? I want to get off.”

You think you hear a relieved sigh. “Sure, if that’s what you want,” he says. “Take this next exit.”

Eddie talks you through decelerating back onto the frontage road, helping you change lanes until you start to slow down in the shoulder.

“Don’t pull over here,” he tells you. “There’s a parking lot just after this light.”

You shake your head. “Nope, I’m done. I’m pulling over.”

“But you can’t just—wait, you’ve gotta—” Eddie grimaces as the car tilts, one wheel going up onto the curb. “Okay. Okay, good job.”

“Fuck.” You heave a sigh and move the gearshift while your boyfriend bends to kiss the dashboard, murmuring apologies to his van. “I think I need to start driving in something else, Eds. This van is too hard to learn in.”

“Hey, don’t talk about her like that.” He caresses the dashboard lovingly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, you were…you had a learning experience. Plus, once you can drive her, you can drive anything.”

“I don’t know.” You lift your foot from the brake, moving to hug your knee to your chest. “I think maybe—”

“Shit,” Eddie says as the van starts to roll backward. “Shit, shit, baby, the gearshift!”

You gasp, setting your foot back on the brake so Eddie can shift the van into park.

“Oh my god.” You drop your head into your hands, breathing heavily. “I can’t even park!”

“It’s—” Eddie’s voice is high, but he clears his throat. “It’s okay, that could happen to anyone. Reverse is, like, right next to park, so…it’s an easy mistake, I guess.”

“I don’t want to drive anymore,” you groan.

“Hey,” he says. “Hey, come here.”

He reaches over and starts to grab for you, but you stop him, lifting your foot from the brake hesitantly. Eddie does you the courtesy of not making fun of you, and when the van doesn’t move you clamber into his lap, setting your chin on his shoulder while his big palms rove your back.

“You’re not so bad,” he says, hair tickling your face as he tilts his head to accommodate you. “It just takes practice. Same for everybody. You want to be able to drive yourself around someday, right?”

You make a noncommittal sound. “Maybe you can just take me wherever I need to go.”

Eddie laughs, hand sliding down your back to pinch your waist. “I’m not available for a cab service at the moment, sweet thing.”

“Mean.”

“You like it when I’m mean to you,” he reminds you.

You wonder if he can feel your cheek heating against his neck. “Only sometimes.”

He huffs amusedly. Wraps a hand around either side of your rib cage, easing you back until he can see you. “You’ll get there,” he says. “We’ve just gotta keep practicing.”

You gnaw on your lip, exhaling through your nose. “Yeah, okay. But can we stay on the ground for now? I don’t think I’m ready for the highway.”

The humor saps from Eddie’s expression. “Yeah,” he agrees, “no more highways for a while.”

304 notes · View notes

joshlmbrt · 3 months

Text

Beautiful Boy. truck driver!dad! e. munson x mom!reader.

w; this one is long - i apologize, r is intended as a female but i try to be nondescript as best as i could ( i use the pronouns she/her BUT you can always change if you’d like <3 ), i don’t know much about soccer so pls ignore how i absolutely demolish it, mentions of cheating - not eddie, jason is mean - as always - but this time it’s uncalled for, chance is non-verbal, little injury, eddie absolutely loses it in front of parents and kids - but it’s needed honestly, eddie’s self-deprecating thoughts, fluff ending

thank you @reidsbtch & @officerrrfriendly for beta reading !!! i love u both.

an; thought about this little idea and i love the idea of truck driver!eddie so im continuing the alt au! i hope you guys love him just as much as i do 🧸 (if u seen the post ab me taking a small break - no u didn’t … jk, after this i won’t post for a while </3 just wanted to post this.)

Eddie hated being around people.

Not just people. But people he knew and went to school with - the ones that called him a freak.

Although, Eddie had found you and he was the first one out of anyone - when he finally put his mind to it and graduated - to get married.

So, everyone who made fun of him, suck it!

“Hun, can you get his duffel bag out, please?” You slip out of the car, opening the back door. Sometimes he missed his van - the one you despised and desperately told him to trade in for this mini van - but then he realizes how much it actually came in handy.

You hold Chance’s hand when he hops out of the car, kneeling down and tying his shoes. Whenever Eddie would tie them, he would immediately walk away and find you, wordlessly holding his foot out - Eddie never got them tight enough. They would always untie in the middle of the game.

“You’re gonna do so good, baby! I just know it.” You switch to tie the other shoe. Eddie circles around the car after locking it, placing a hand on Chance’s head.

“Absolutely. He’s a Munson.” He smirks down at the boy. It took a little time for Eddie to realize that being a part of the Munson Bloodline wasn’t all bad like people had made him believe.

Sometimes they would lose - but in the long run, they somehow always win in the end.

His win - you and Chance.

There’s a whistle that had been directed towards the small group of you, Chance, and himself. It caused Eddie to look up quickly. It wasn’t the type of whistle to catch someone’s attention that you had been friends with for a while - no - it was a whistle little boys did when they seen a woman they thought was pretty.

“Oh, my bad.” The smirk was familiar and made Eddie’s blood run hot.

Jason Carver.

Divorced three times and had two kids (They both are the same age - you can be sure what had happened there and why they both are the same age) . He's married again, but she’s at the car getting the chairs out and small cooler with capri-sun’s for the little tots and beer for Jason.

It wasn’t allowed, but it was Jason Carver, and sometimes someone’s privilege was so blindingly noticeable.

You peek up at Eddie, watching as his jaw clenches. “Eds,” You say. “Eddie,” He finally looks down at you. You shake your head. “He’s not worth it. Don’t waste your breath.”

He can distinctly hear Julia - his new wife who was most likely about to hit him with divorce papers - complain as she shoves the chairs into his arms. His eyes peek up, watching as they both walk away. He only nods, looking back down at you.

“Breathe, Eds.”

And suddenly, he could breathe again. There was a shudder to the first breath he took - but it felt nice. Rather than holding it in anger until he passed out.

You give him a small smile before fixing Chance’s green shirt. You press a quick kiss to his forehead, standing and holding a hand out for him. He immediately slips his hand into yours, following you towards the field.

Eddie glances around, scratching at his neck when he passes a group of people who peaked in high school - better known as the basketball and football team.

There were a couple of them that were fine - not as rude. And he was sure that the whispers he heard wasn’t about him in particular, but there’s some side of him that feels as if the hushed conversation was about him - or worse, his little mini me.

Chance had been quiet. He doesn’t know why or if it will ever change - a part of him hopes it does because he wants to hear his tiny voice. But if it never changed, Eddie would still love him either way.

And if anyone - including a kid - said anything about it, he’s not afraid to go to jail after knocking out some teeth and lose his job over it.

He drops the duffel bag, kneeling down in front of Chance. “Remember what I told you?” He tilts his head. “This is supposed to be fun, just remember that.”

Chance smiles and nods. He looked grown - the tooth that he had lost making a slow comeback.

“Now, go get them, Champ.” He stands, clapping as he runs to meet the rest of his team.

You peek over at him, smiling softly with a fluttering heart and pink cheeks. He peeks over at you, pushing his sleeves up to his elbows and crossing his arms over his chest, lifting a brow at you.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He chuckles a bit nervously. He still gets a bit nervous when you stare at him like you’re falling in love all over again - which you are, even more than before.

Of course, Eddie’s had relationships - even situationships - and even if they didn’t last that long, he always felt confident in the relationship, never boyish and giggly to where he could swing his feet like a school girl.

But with you, he feels shy, excited, nervous, and loved.

You shrug, slipping your arms around his, resting your chin on his bicep. “I just think you’re so handsome.”

He flushes and suddenly feels hot in the cool air. “Even with this scuff.”

“Especially with the scuff,” You grin. “And I thought I wouldn’t like your haircut, but I do.”

“I’m glad,” He nods, leaning over and pressing one, two, three pecks against your forehead. “It was just getting in the way when I would roll the windows down to smoke,” His scruff tickles against your forehead. “Especially when I would forget or loose the rubber band.”

You nod a bit and lift up, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I’m going to go get the mini cooler out of the car.”

“I can do that.”

“No, I got it. Stay here and make sure no one gets our spot.”

He smirks. “Yeah, because you’ll end up feeling bad for someone and move.”

You roll your eyes and pat his bottom before walking off. He smiles and turns back, watching as they Hawkins and the other team - Defenders - give high-fives before the game starts.

“So, Munson,” He feels someone brush up against his side, his nails dig into his skin that was covered by his black sweatshirt. “How’s the married life?”

“You mean the same married life I’ve been in for 5 years now?” Eddie rocks on his heels. He doesn’t know if that would help, but he’s hoping it does so he doesn’t cause a scene in front of all the kids and parents who already judge him enough even if he’s not that same, hyperactive person anymore.

“It’s wonderful. How about your third wife? Or… is it the fourth?” He wonders out loud. Jason chuckles, blue eyes turning to stare daggers into the side of his face. “Or do you already have the fourth one picked out?”

“You’re such a-”

“Hi, Mr. Carver,” You cut the conversation short. You didn’t like Jason at all, but it’s better to kill him with kindness than to egg him on with words. “Seems like James and Aj are getting the hang of soccer.”

He watches as you bend at the waist, Eddie moving slightly to cover where ever his eyes might land, pinky circling into the belt loop of your jeans.

Jason rolls his eyes at that, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Learned from the best,” He nods. “What about Chance? Since… Eddie’s gone most of the time.”

“Dustin, Lucas, or Steve comes and practices with him. Jonathan does sometimes as well, and Robin,” You shrug. “He has a bunch of people who help him.”

“I bet it gets lonely sometimes.” Eddie’s ears ring when he hears the words and the whistle blow.

“What?”

“You know… When Eddie’s gone. How many days is he gone?”

You lift a brow, eyes staying on Chance’s jersey. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” You step closer when you feel Eddie’s finger tug on the belt loop of your jeans.

“Well… I could keep you company sometime, you know,” He tilts his head. “It’s not okay for Chance to have a father that disappears a couple of days and then pops back up for a day.” There’s a pause. You both were going to ignore him.

Jason is the type of guy who wouldn’t back out of an argument until there’s a physical altercation between him and whoever falls into his trap. Eddie knows this because it’s happened before.

Jason wouldn’t stop pestering him - and the next day after seeing his father on the news for a physical altercation, breaking-an-entering, DUI, and Drug Holding, it only made it worse.

“Looks like you might actually have something to look forward too - seeing your Daddy behind bars when you get locked up with him.”

He can’t remember when his fist went flying and when it broke Jason’s nose, but after that, Jason would say something’s and Eddie would retaliate with words.

Jason would back down because he remembered the pain that the rings had caused and the cracking noise he had heard.

But now, he didn’t seem to remember what that felt like - and maybe he needed to be reminded.

“Maybe that’s why he’s a bit slow.” Especially now when he said those words. Jason Carver officially sealed his fate.

“What did you just say?” Eddie turns to him.

“Oh, I didn’t mean that in a bad way,” Jason shrugs. But he did. “Just… you know, he doesn’t talk. He’s not that smart with his-”

“You don't want to finish that sentence, Carver,” Eddie grits out. There’s a hot flash that keeps going down his whole body, the feeling of breaking that nose again, ruining the nose job he had to have because of his rings. “You remember what happened before. I’d hate to ruin the nose job you had to have in 10th grade. Then you’d have to spend another thousand just to get it busted again.”

Jason’s brows shoot up, a small teasing smirk on his face. He notices some parents’ eyes looking at them. Eddie’s voice had raised a smidge and he didn’t even notice.

“Is that a threat, Munson?”

“Try promise, Carver,” His eyes narrow at him. “You peaked in high school and can’t let it go. You even work there.”

Jason’s jaw clenches at that. “I didn’t-”

“You did,” Eddie cuts him off. There’s a small smirk that tugs at the corner of his lips knowing he’s got under his skin now. “You just don’t want to admit it. And it’s honestly sad. So, what you’re going to do right now is turn around, walk away from my wife, and stop talking about my son. Because it won’t be pretty if you don’t.”

“Eddie.” Your hand grips his arm. He looks at you and shakes his head before looking at Jason.

Jason clicks his tongue, darting his eyes out at the field as he nods a bit. You look between the two. “Alright… I’ll let you win this one,” He hums, hands on his hips. “Because at least my kid isn’t a freak.”

Eddie flinches at the word, fist clenching at the usage and who it was shot at. He wouldn’t have minded if it was meant towards himself, but his kid? One who couldn’t even defend himself?

His hands land on his chest, pushing him away. Jason stumbles on his Nike’s. “Carver, I mean it. Walk away before you say something you’ll regret. I’m so close to beating you into the ground.”

Jason stares at him and he believes him. Eddie’s staring at him with eyes that were dark, his hands balled into fists at his side - so tight that his knuckles were white.

Jason’s eyes glances over at you. And just because he needs to get in the last words so his ego isn’t hurt and knocked down a couple of steps, “Call me if you ever get lonely, babygirl.” His lips pucker and smack together before he gives Eddie one last grin, turning around.

Eddie almost swings at the back of his head to knock him off guard, his arm raising. You grab his arm, pulling it down quickly. “Not worth it,” You say, hand resting between his shoulder blades. “He’s not worth going to jail, Eds.”

Eddie watches as he makes his way towards Julia, plopping down into his fold out chair. He grabs the can, taking a gulp and wiping at the corner of his mouth where some had slipped. His blue eyes turn and meet Eddie’s, a small smile that curls at his lips.

“Just one punch?”

“No,” You turn him towards you. “He’s just trying to get a raise out of you and it’s working - don’t let him win this time like he always does.”

Eddie glances around, eyes meeting with some of the parents that quickly look away. His eyes then connect with yours and suddenly he feels his inside soften and his face slowly release its tension, the lines disappearing from his face.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

You shake your head, giving him a small smile. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault.”

He opens his mouth but is cut off by the whistle, eyes cutting over to the field. He sees number 8 sitting on the ground, his heart dropping.

His mind was wondering else where and his son is hurt.

He’s walking out onto the field before his mind even registers what his feet are doing and kneeling down. Chance had tears rolling down his cheeks, his small hands covering his knee.

“Hey, Champ,” His heart breaks at the sight of his watery eyes when they quickly dart up at him before looking back down at his hands. He flinches when he feels your hand on his back, rubbing up and down. “Can mommy and I take a look?” He whispers.

He feels a bit claustrophobic when he feels the two coaches looming over his shoulders along with the small kids staring at him.

Chance nods slightly, removing his hands from his knee. Eddie’s hand reaches out and holds his leg, looking at the scratches. “Looks like you just need a quick wipe and bandaid.”

Chance sniffs and slowly stands, bending his leg.

“You wanna wait til we get home? I accidentally forgot the first aid at home.” The little boy nods, sniffling again.

Eddie reaches up and wipes away his tears softly. “You’re so brave. I’m proud of you.”

This causes Chance to smile, cheeks lifting a bit. Eddie gives him a swift peck to the top of his head before standing. “Go get ‘em.” Chance nods quickly.

Eddie grabs your hand, walking off the field and standing on the sidelines again. You lean your head on his shoulder.

“Eds?” He hums a bit. “I love you.”

He smiles a bit, nodding. “I love you.”

⭒

Eddie plops down on the bed, rubbing at his face. Chance’s knee was taken care of, a fresh shower, some nuggets, then he was out like a light when his little head hit the pillow.

Eddie feels like he could pass out when his own head hits the pillow, but there’s a feeling that keeps tugging at his chest.

He doesn’t know if it’s anger, sadness, or confusion.

anger because he couldn’t put Jason Carver into place like he absolutely wanted to. Anger because he missed half of Chance’s game because of him.

Sadness because Chance has to deal with people already laughing at him - it’s much worse when a grown up does it.

Confusion because he doesn’t know what he did in wrong his life to deserve what people say about him and his family.

Eddie always felt like he was nice enough - not judging others and including them in a conversation when he felt as if they weren’t being heard or he noticed the look on their face when they felt left out of the conversation.

And there’s a constant nagging in his mind that he always hears in his subconscious.

You’re not cut out to be a father - you’re going to go downhill soon.

And the worse part about it, he actually believes he’s going to go down hill. His father once was a nice man, caring. Then Wayne said when his mom got sick, he turned bitter and mean.

And the worse part about that was she got sick when she was pregnant with Eddie. So that bitterness was because of Eddie.

Edward Munson - the person who caused people to feel bitter when he showed his face. The person who only seemed to give people bad luck when he showed up.

Sarah, his mother who was a soft person with kind words, should’ve saved herself. Not him. She should be here. Then maybe his dad would’ve been okay.

Everyone would’ve been okay.

“Babe?” He blinks, glancing at you. He didn’t realize that you had finished getting ready for bed and had snuggled under the covers. He hums slightly. You frown, lifting your hand and wiping at the tears that he didn’t realize had fallen.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on in your mind?” Your thumb traces over his cheekbone. You pay attention to the scar he has nearing his eye. He shakes his head a bit, lip quivering.

He’s afraid that if he talks, it will cause him to sob, then if he sobs, he’ll wake up Chance. He’s already had a rough day today and he needed his sleep.

You frown and move closer to him, pressing a kiss next to his eye, they flutter closer. “Whatever you’re thinking, it isn’t true,” You whisper. “I know you and I know that you’re very hard on yourself - and you shouldn’t be. You know why?”

He turns his head to stare at you, shaking his head a bit.

Your hand splays out against his cheek. “Because you, Eddie, are the absolute best person I know with the biggest heart. And I’m so proud of how far you’ve come and achieved.”

He smiles, although it’s a bit shaky. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You shrug, nudging your nose against his softly. “Just being the absolute best version of you.”

🎸 eddie tags; @lavendermunson, @hazydespair, @whisperingwillowxox

thank you for reading! comments, reblogs, requests, likes, & feedback is always welcomed, encouraged, & deeply appreciated. 🧸

#cherry writes ✿#dad!eddie munson x mom!reader #dad!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #joseph quinn x reader

346 notes · View notes

aniharas · 2 months

Text

𝘥𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯…

drabble warnings: sexual content, implied sexual content a/n: quick drabble inspired by this scene from fast 6. but lowkey yall should lmk if you want f1!anakin. cuz i know i do.

...was something you desperately needed. you were notoriously bad at piloting ships, or any means of travel. even airspeeders, and any time you were on a mission, the other jedi would quickly offer to pilot before you had even stepped foot onto the landing ramp. so who better to seek help from but the greatest pilot in the galaxy? asking anakin was rather intimidating, since the only real interaction you had with him was sparring as padawans. after laughing at your predicament for a moment, he accepted.

but you never knew having him as your pilot’s-ed instructor would prove to be so distracting. he had taken you to the abandoned race tracks of tatooine, and you nearly slapped him once you realized where he was taking you. he quickly defended himself, saying that it was where he learned to pilot vehicles, and it was only fair that he would teach you where he taught his fellow peers.

but the sweltering heat of twin suns did you no favors for focusing. both of you stripped of your robes, down to your undertunics, adorning matching earpieces so you could hear each other over the wind. sweat dotted your skin as you slouched over in the passenger seat of the airspeeder anakin had rented out for you. as you watched him explain the controls to you, you found your eyes lingered on the way his muscles tensed as he gripped the throttle.

the longer anakin droned on about the semantics of piloting, the harder you found it to care. the dry wind that breezed past the both of you had dried out his throat, giving it a rasp that made even the least suggestive of words sexy. the way it made his hair fly wildly allowed you to get a good look at his face. the corners of his eyes crinkled from how widely he was smiling. you had never seen him so lively before, so exhilarated, so free. you felt the same way.

he seemed to know what you were thinking, gesturing for you to come to him. “come on, you try steering,” he offered.

you were about to move, but you were quickly stumped. “uh, what do you mean?” you asked shyly, looking around you. “there’s nowhere to sit.”

you weren’t sure if your eyes were deceiving you as you saw the corner of anakin’s lips tug upwards. “sure there is,” he replied, patting his lap twice. “just so i can steer if something goes wrong. don’t get any ideas,” he teased, slowly bringing the speeder to a stop as he undid his seatbelt.

‘how could i not?’ you were thinking as you awkwardly stuck your leg towards the driver’s side. being so close to him had you holding your breath out of nervousness, hovering over his lap slightly. you felt his large hand against your hip, keeping you steady as you lowered yourself down.

“everything feel okay?” anakin whispered into your ear as he removed your earpiece, tossing it carelessly to the empty passenger seat before shrugging off his own. it left you shuddering at the feeling of his breath on your skin. you could hear a slight rumbling in his throat after your sudden movement.

you nodded, taking a deep breath to compose yourself. “mhm. just feeling hot, that’s all,” you lied through your teeth. all you heard from him in response was a chuckle.

after a moment, anakin’s hands circled around your wrists, guiding your hands to the steering handles. “alright. show me what you got.”

despite the feeling that your heart was going to jump out of your chest, you managed to steer your way around the track and get a few laps in with only a few life-endangering moments. anakin would mutter some of his criticisms into your ear, or he would bring his hand up to adjust the wheel slightly. although you tried your best to pay attention to his words, his low, authoritative voice had you instinctively rocking your hips.

at first, anakin tried to ignore it. you noticed it in the way his instructions would falter as you pressed against him. interrupted by a loud exhale through his nose or a curse leaving his lips. things didn’t escalate further until you hit a speed bump, the airspeeder jolting so harshly that it left you nearly bouncing in his lap. his hands instinctively went to your sides to keep you steady, but they wasted no time in slipping down your waist. with each rock of your hips, it was almost as if he was guiding them as your ass grinded against the growing tent in his trousers. you weren’t sure if you were able to withstand the tension anymore, heat building between your legs as you moved more intensely.

suddenly, anakin’s hands left your hips before gripping the steering handles tightly, his foot nudging yours off the gas. “hands off,” he ordered, voice strained. he didn’t have to tell you twice. once you relinquished control, he quickly took over, the world around you nearly turning into a blur as he began to race down the empty track. your hair whipped about crazily as you turned to face him, the utter speed pressing you against his chest.

at first, you were concerned. he was going so fast, why wouldn’t his attention be on the track ahead of him? why were his eyes solely on you, half-lidded and glazed over with what was unmistakably desire? you had a mind to tell him to focus, but you remembered he grew up here, racing for mere scraps. he knew this track like the back of his hand, and it was evident in how he steered so effortlessly without ever breaking eye contact with you. the thought spurred you on, reaching up to cup his face and press your lips against his without another thought.

you instantly regretted it, feeling how chapped your lips were from all the wind. but it didn’t bother anakin, wasting no time in devouring yours. he gently nipped your bottom lip, as if to silently ask for entrance. you obliged, your swelling lips parting as his tongue slipped its way past, exploring you in such a way that you never thought would happen. he kissed you like he thirsted for you in the desert heat, drinking you in like you were his oasis. the taste of him on your tongue left you drunk with your ever growing lust, clutching at the fabric of his tunic as if you were to tear it off. the more deeply you kissed him, the harder he stepped on the gas, the rev of the engine growing louder the faster you went.

it was exhilarating, covering dozens of kilometers in the small moments you took to catch your breath. pulling away, you traced the outline of his jaw as you laid your head on his shoulder, not minding his sweat that collected at the tip of your finger.

“d’you usually do this whenever you teach someone?” you inquired directly into his ear, a dazed smile never leaving your lips.

anakin’s equally awestruck expression broke into laughter, his melodic chuckles barely heard over the sound of the harsh wind and the pulsating growl of the engine. “just figured you wanted a different kind of lesson.”

“i might need a couple more,” you admitted before closing in, peppering slow and tantalizing kisses to the crook of his neck.

the deep, whiny sigh that escaped his throat was something you knew you wouldn’t grow tired of. “you’re lucky i’m a good teacher,” anakin rasped out, clutching your waist tightly before diving in to capture your lips once more.

there was something about making out with the chosen one all while traveling at breakneck speeds; it invigorated your senses like no other. maybe you would take it a step further next time.

a/n: hope u all enjoyed! yall lmk if u want a second part of this drabble. also requests are open!

masterlist.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #fem!reader #clone wars #drabble #anakin skywalker drabble

166 notes · View notes

cannibalizedyke · 2 years

Text

Drunken Confessions

Part Two: Sober Revelations

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Drinking, drunkenness

Summary: You drunkenly tell Eddie that you're in love with him.

General Taglist: @gg-is-a-loser @yesshewrites1

Moots: @spidervee @iheardarumorthings @thewritingbabe @scandalous-chaos @ddejavvu @winterwisteria @abibliophobiaa

“Why are we here?” Eddie groaned, arm slung around your shoulder as you squeezed your way through a crowd of drunk teens.

“To have fun!” You laughed, pulling him over and grabbing two shot glasses off of a tray. “To drink, and dance, and be normal teenagers for once.”

“I don’t want to be a normal teenager,” Eddie pointed out as he downed the liquor. “I want to be a freak, and wear old ripped band t-shirts and listen to rock music and play Dungeons and Dragons.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ed, that is normal teenager stuff. And so is going to parties. Stop trying to fit into the stereotype everyone’s branded you with.”

Eddie gaped, but you didn’t notice, too busy pulling him into the crowd and grabbing both of his hands.

“Dance with me!” you shouted over the blaring music.

Eddie’s heart skipped a beat, and he immediately shoved it down. You were his best friend. Best friends danced. Best friends went to parties together. There was nothing romantic about this. You didn’t love him the way he loved you. He shoved on a mask of composure and rolled his eyes, grinning. “Whatever, Bubbles.”

You made a face at his childhood nickname for you. “Gods, Eddie, we’re not kids anymore.”

“Yeah, but you’re still the same bubbly (Y/N) you’ve always been, Bubs.” Eddie twirled you around and you giggled.

“I want a drink. You?”

Eddie nodded and followed you over to a cooler full of beer cans. You handed him one and downed yours in one gulp.

Eddie sputtered a laugh. “Easy there, Bubs. Don’t wanna get too smashed, do ya?”

“That’s the whole point!” you yelled, laughing.

Eddie shook his head. “I told you I didn’t want to be the sober driver!”

You stuck your tongue out at him, smiling mischievously. “Too bad!”

Eddie tossed his can back into the cooler and let you pull him back into the crowd. You apparently had an extremely low alcohol tolerance; you were already tired and stumbly, giggling and leaning against Eddie for support.

“Whoa, there.” He steadied you. “You all right?”

“Uh-huh…” you told him, words slurred. You were somehow already smashed.

“Yeah, no, Bubs, we’re going outside.”

“I don’t want to,” you moaned, too weak for your attempts to pull him back to be successful.

He hoisted you into his arms and carried you away from the loud crowd and into the secluded, peaceful quiet of the outdoors. You leaned against him, grabbing his hand and causing goosebumps to run up his arms.

“You’re pretty,” you murmured, eyes falling shut.

Eddie laughed nervously. “Yeah, you too, Bubbles.”

“Can I tell you something?” You yawned.

“Yeah, of course.” He stared ahead, scared of what seeing you so vulnerable would do to him.

“I love you, Eddie.”

He stiffened, then laughed nervously again. “Yeah, Bubs, I love you too.”

“No, no!” You sat up, adorably frustrated. “I love you. Like love love. I wanna hold you and kiss you and write you love letters and stuff.”

Eddie couldn’t speak. She’s drunk, he told himself. She doesn’t know what she’s saying. But drunken words were sober thoughts, weren’t they?

“Do you, Bubs?” he managed, hoarse.

“Yeah.” You leaned back against him. “Loved you since we met, Eddie.”

He inhaled sharply. “Let’s get you home.”

You hummed and let him lead you to his car. “Take me to your house, please. Don’t want Dad to know I was drinking.”

Eddie swallowed, and forced a laugh. “Being the police chief’s daughter got some drawbacks, huh?”

“Mhm.” You were falling asleep. He hated how adorable you looked when you were falling asleep.

Eddie drove home in silence, occasionally looking over at your sleeping form. He carried you inside, unwilling to wake you, and warned his uncle not to make a sound as he entered. He laid you in his bed and collapsed beside you, mind reeling. He turned to you, gaze softening at the sight of your soft, deep breathing and splayed out limbs. “I love you too,” he whispered, and turned off the light.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson

6K notes · View notes

apomaro-mellow · 4 months

Text

Wrong Number 8

Eddie and Steve threw a few more axes, Eddie getting unnecessarily close to fix Steve's form many times. There was a point where Eddie didn't even need to fix anything but if Steve was letting him touch, he would. After about half an hour more, Robin took Steve into the bathroom again. Eddie knew he was the subject of the conversation. He just didn't know in what regard.

He skipped over to Jeff. "Ain't he a peach?"

"Got an ass like one", Jeff offered.

"Just utter perfection. Don't go oglin' him too much though. I might get the wrong idea."

"He's all yours Eddie. I don't even think a crowbar could get between you two right now", Jeff said.

Steve came out of the bathroom with Robin and it was decided that Robin would head on back to the apartment, taking Steve's car.

"You're letting Robin drive?", Eddie asked with a raised brow. He remembered Steve remarking quite a bit how his little birdie had two left wings, so to speak and how it took her about five tries to get her driver's license because she'd been so nervous behind the wheel.

"She can make it", Steve said confidently. "And it'll give us some time to ourselves. And I'll need someone to drive me when the night's done." He stepped closer to Eddie and Eddie closed the distance even more. It was like they were magnetic.

"Drive you home?"

Steve smiled, hearing the hopeful tone in his voice. "I was thinking your place, actually."

They were nearly nose to nose now and Steve barely even noticed Robin taking the keys from his pocket. Eddie couldn't stand being that close and not kissing him so he did just that. The only thing that made them stop was Jeff shooing them out just as a kid's birthday party came in. Couldn't have them doing all that in front of children, after all.

Eddie led Steve to his van. "Your chariot, your highness", he said as he opened the door for him.

Steve got in and looked around, taking in everything that was Eddie. Eddie practically ran to get in on the other side and turn it on.

"So, where to?"

"I could eat", Steve said. His stomach was still fluttering with how new everything was, so he didn't think he'd be eating much, but he could put something in his stomach.

Eddie took them to a little restaurant and Eddie admitted to being nervous to and not wanting to eat much, so they agreed on just some appetizers.

"I feel like I'm about two seconds from vomiting. In a good way!", he added quickly.

"A little worrying that you've been letting me kiss you all night with that knowledge", Steve grinned. He reached out across the table and held Eddie's hand. "I can't believe I can just touch you."

"You can do more than touch", Eddie said, kissing his fingertips.

"Is this...are we...?" Steve's gaze turned down.

"What?"

"Are we going too fast? We just met today but-I mean normally when I meet a guy, I'm not all over him like this but with you-"

"Sweet thing", Eddie beamed. "I've been courtin' you since you sent that first text."

Steve chuckled. "The very first one?"

"Well maybe not when you thought I was still Misty. But I don't consider this a first meeting. How can I when we already know so much about each other?" Eddie knew how Steve was before bed and right when we woke up. Steve knew which tattoos had meaning and which didn't.

"So I'm not...you don't think I'm being too much?", Steve asked.

Eddie shook his head. "Baby you could crawl in my ribs and it wouldn't be close enough. I've been trying to drink you in all night, haven't you noticed?"

"I might've noticed a few sips here and there", Steve got warm as Eddie kissed up his wrist. Only the table standing between them got in the way of going further. But it was very easy to imagine Eddie's lips having nothing in their way.

Eddie's eyes had been closed while savoring Steve's skin but when he opened them they were dark with desire. "What do you say we-"

"Yes."

They had time for dinner dates (which they'd already done) and eventful outings. Right now the things they wanted to do required privacy. Eddie was on his best behavior, trying to take the quickest route back to his place. Steve was doing every naughty thing imaginable, short of unzipping Eddie's pants and giving him road head. He stroked Eddie's thigh, kissed his neck, licked in his ear, played with his hair.

And even when Eddie gave him a soft reprimand, lest they crash, Steve found ways to torture him.

"So mean, not letting me touch you", he said, squirming in his seat. He started rolling his hips like he was grinding the air and Eddie thought he was going to lose his mind.

He pretty much screeched to a stop and tore both their doors open. Once Steve was out, Eddie pinned him to the side of the van, devouring his mouth and pressing their hips together. He was already fully tented in his jeans.

"You knowmmm", Steve broke off in a moan as Eddie released his lips to start on his neck. "You have a van. You could've just pulled o-oohhh-off and had me back there."

"A pretty thing like you?", Eddie smirked. "You deserve a bed, princess."

With that clear goal in mind, Eddie took Steve up to his apartment. Steve had just enough time to take in sights familiar from past video calls: the guitar, one of the many band posters, and various mugs hanging in the kitchen before Eddie was pulling him into the bedroom. Eddie sat on the bed and Steve slid easily into his lap.

Eddie groaned at the weight on him. "Got a present for me, big boy?", he asked, hands going behind Steve to squeeze his cheeks.

"Sounds like you already know."

He did. Touching Steve so much gave him a little preview. But it was still fun to unwrap it later. He did just that, unbuttoning and then unzipping Steve's pants to see the flash of purple lace.

"You like?", Steve asked. He didn't need to though, Eddie's face was easy to read.

"Oh baby, I like. I like very much." Eddie helped Steve out of his shirt, kissing the skin that was revealed to him and then helped him out of his pants.

Steve stood before Eddie who was still sitting on the bed and put his hands on his shoulders. Eddie's hands went to his hips, touching the lavender material almost reverently. He showed restraint, not immediately diving in, but just for a second. He tried going in for a taste but Steve put a finger to his forehead, stopping him.

"Your turn."

He went around Eddie and laid across the bed, waiting for him to get on with it. Eddie was a whirlwind of clothes being torn off his body and Steve laughed as he hopped into bed with him.

"You moved like the Tasmanian Devil", Steve smiled.

Eddie put an arm around Steve's waist and pulled him in close. "Well you make me go-", then he made a bunch of incomprehensible babbling noises. "Please don't kick me out of bed", he said once he realized what he did.

But Steve had been smiling the whole time. Then laughing. Then petting Eddie's hair and bringing him in for a kiss.

"Sooo, you're not turned off?", Eddie ventured. Steve was kissing his jaw now, but he had to ask to be sure.

"I always thought Taz was kinda cute."

"I'm more of a Bugs Bunny guy myself", Eddie said.

Steve smirked as he reached down to grasp Eddie's cock that had been sitting between them, weeping and neglected until now. He leaned in, whispering hotly as Eddie's curls tickled his cheek.

"What's up, doc?"

"Holy shit", Eddie gasped out as Steve started to stroke him. "That shouldn't be so hot."

"Life's full of surprises, isn't it?", Steve winked.

Only about two years later, before all of their friends and family in their best formal wear, would Steve admit that he knew Eddie was the one from the first time they made love. Because he made him laugh the entire time.

"It wasn't only because I made you laugh, right?", Eddie would ask during their third dance of the night.

"I was only laughing so much because of how funny, brilliant, romantic, and sexy you were that night", Steve said.

Steve was wearing a golden yellow tuxedo with black accents, while Eddie was wearing the reverse. It was fitting, given that of all the pet names Eddie gave him, 'honey' probably came up the most. Honey, sweet thing, sweetheart, and even one time sugar tits. Eddie was obsessed with telling Steve how sweet he was.

"And to think, this wouldn't've happened if that girl gave you her real number", Eddie mused out loud. "Her loss. Her incredibly, massively huge loss."

"No", Steve smiled, bringing his hands to Eddie's face to give him a sweet kiss. "I think I got the right number."

1 year ago...

[10:33 am] If these kids ask about boba one more time I'm gonna turn myself into wild garlic and find a field to disappear in.

(11:17 am) 💍? tonite? (11:18 am) We could order from that new Taiwanese place too (11:18 am) I promise no boba (11:37 am) cmon Steve i've never had food from taiwannn i wanna try it

(12:52 pm) Honey?

[12:53 pm] There is NO way that you're proposing to me through a text right now

(1:01 pm) What? Shit no! Wait not no but no I was asking if you wanted to watch The Ring tonight? The one about the cursed video? (1:03 pm) Stevie? (1:03 pm) Baby? (1:04 pm) Shit you're working now. (1:04 pm) Pls dont be mad? And pls come home after work

Steve did come home to their now shared apartment and Eddie had been waiting on his knees, one of his own wings on a tiny pillow that Steve didn't even know they had. Eddie had babbled about wanting to plan for it more and talk about it more and getting an actual ring and making the proposal special but how he'd known for a while now that he wanted to marry Steve and it was in such an anxious rush that Steve's ears only got part of it.

His heart got all of it.

"On your feet, Taz. Yes, I'll marry you."

Eddie shot up and gathered Steve in his arms, spinning them around in a whirl. Eddie definitely tried to get them to fall on the couch when they started to lose their balance but he miscalculated and they hit the floor instead, one of Eddie's legs catching on the coffee table.

Despite the pain, Steve was giggling. "I knew we should've taken that left turn at Alburquerque."

Eddie groaned at how his leg smarted. "That's all folks."

END

Yaaay! Thank you for another one! If you liked the lil tidbits of Steve's job here I'm planning a teacher au soon so be on the lookout for that :)

Tag Team

@anne-bennett-cosplayer @estrellami-1 @newtstabber @omletlove @ifyoudonlysurrender @rehfan @morganski-19 @corvidcantina @dragonmama76 @just-ladyme @tinyplanet95 @goodolefashionedloverboi @idoquitelikebread @kittydeadbones @manda-panda-monium @rhapsodyinalto @paintsplatteredandimperfect @keylime-green @ihavekidneys @samsoble @honorarybrit81 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @aizawa-emma @deleataecount @thesuninyaface @fromapayphone @justmeinadaze @hbyrde36 @queenie-ofthe-void @resident-gay-bitch @bestwifehaver @dangdirtydemons @ellietheasexylibrarian @perseus-notjackson @pyrohonk @holysteddie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @mrsjellymunson @geekymagicalpotato @notaqueenakhaleesi

#apo writes #stranger things #fanfiction #steddie #i feel only a leeeetle bad for jumping back and forth #and only a teeeeensy bad for not writing full smut #i think it all worked out in the end

256 notes · View notes

carolmunson · 2 years

Text

we have such sights to show you (sadist!eddie x f!masochist!reader)

warnings: 18+ major MAJOR smut, minors DNI. eddie and reader are in a long term established relationship. takes place in october 1990. big trigger warnings for: spanking with multiple implements, use of manipulative coercion (not dubcon, not noncon), lots of name calling and degredation (whore, slut, bitch, pig, calling or inferring that reader is stupid/disgusting/worthless), physical sadism, emotional sadism. knife play, blood play, blood kink. references to daddy kink, references to a lot of kinks, references to role playing. references to use of safe word. mild dom drop. YES, there is aftercare.

-- The drive home was quiet with Eddie's hand on your thigh, his other on the wheel while he leaned back in the driver's seat. His expression was stoic while he drove, he didn't smile, he didn't turn to you at red lights to steal a kiss -- you knew before you left Steve's house what was to come when you got home. Before the second movie was even over.

Eddie was thrilled to be the one who got to pick this round for movie night, opting for something scary so close to Halloween. Hellraiser, and Hellraiser II -- not exactly your favorites, but definitely something his horror loving heart could pound to. Steve was miserable the whole time because he wasn't allowed to be scared, a new flavor of the month cowering into his chest when they weren't making out.

Robin was enthralled with the Cenobites, getting into excited discussions with Ed about their back stories and designs. Whispering next to each other while still trying to pay attention. The kids and Nancy just complained about it being gross. But it was the way Eddie's hand discreetly crept upward, ringed fingers wrapping around the hair at the nape of your neck and pulling tight that told you what would happen later. He turned to you when you took in a quiet but sharp breath at the feeling, letting out a soft hum of confirmation. You knew when you were putting your shoes on to leave and he stood over you with his arms crossed, walking to the door while you stood up. You forgot how to move when he looked at you, his hand on the door knob. He beckoned you forward with two fingers, his voice had dropped, his stare darkened for a simple demand:

"Come."

You shivered.

Eddie turned off the ignition when he pulled in infront of his trailer - Wayne's trailer only a few steps down. He'd had enough money to move into a small one bedroom apartment closer to Robin, but he didn't want to leave Wayne behind. He waited at the screen door for you, his breath crowding around him in the cold.

"Please, go slower," he snapped sarcastically while the leaves crunched under your boots. You broke out into a small jog, hurrying into the door as he opened it. Eddie, still the gentleman, helped you remove your coat to hang it up. When he turned back around from the coat rack he took your cold hands in his to warm them, but the way he looked at you was enough to get the job done.

His hands traveled from yours, to your arms, to your cheeks kissing you softly before breaking away, "Do you trust me?"

"Yes, baby," you smile, his eye contact searches for truth in your statement. He smiles back at you when he knows you mean it, leaning in for another kiss. "Go get ready for me, hm?" he asks. You nod, your head getting fuzzy at the suggestion, even though you'd been prepared for this request the whole ride home. It still made you tingle, no matter how long you played this game -- it felt like the first time, every time.

---

You stood naked in his bedroom doorway while he was sat on the edge of his bed with his heavy combat boots planted on the floor. His wallet and chains were still attached to his pants, jacket and shirt discarded save for a black tank top against his pale, inked skin -- what can ya say? He knew you liked to see his arms flex when he worked.

Your collar was laid out on his thigh, thick and leather, undecorative. A silver loop on the front with smaller ones to the sides so if need be, he could clip you in place just about anywhere. "Come," Eddie repeated his sentiment from earlier in the same low tone he had before. You took a step forward and he cleared his throat, his gaze narrowing at you. "You know better," his voice is low and gravelly in his throat, a smirk flicking across his face when you sink to your hands and knees.

"I don't like it when you start off by disappointing me," he chides while you crawl from the door to the space between his legs, settling on your knees before him. "Sorry, sir," you say softly while Eddie's hand slides gently under your jaw, his thumb rubbing back an forth on your skin. "What do you say when I check in and you feel okay?" he asks, a ritual of questions before he decorates you. "Orange," the coolest flame aside from red. "What do you say when you want me to ease up or want me to be nice?" he smiles when he asks, you giggle at him -- it's more fun when he's not nice. "Yellow," a bit hotter.

"What do you say when you want me to stop?" his hand moves so his thumb can brush against your lower lip. His chest tightens when he asks. "Blue," the hottest flame aside from white. Burning. Hellfire. You had only used it twice before and Eddie was in dom drop for hours after each of them -- completely inconsolable. Steve had to come over and intervene. "And if something feels beyond Blue, if you need me to take you to the hospital or call 911..." "Code Red," you nod. "And I have permission to call Blue or Code Red if I think you aren't able to make that decision for yourself?" he doesn't lose eye contact and your heart hammers, you want to kiss him for how deeply he cares for you. "You have my permission," you take the hand on your face by the wrist and press slow kisses to his rings while he looks at you. "Please bless me, sir," you whisper up at him, Eddie almost chokes. How on earth did he get so lucky? You're on your knees begging for him to put you in your place, to fulfill both of your desires. You trust him to do this to you. He wants to pinch himself every time you look up at him with those glassy, rounded eyes -- you couldn't be real, there's no way.

He takes his hand away gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead while he gathered the collar in his hands.

"My pretty girl," he mumbles against your skin. When he pulls away you both have a silent agreement that once it's fastened, you're no longer you -- you're just his, you belong to him only. You're his to control. He guides you to the bed to adorn you with the rest of your cuffs, leather and binding, able to connect to each other at a moments notice. Your ankles and wrists are dressed, straps like a garter belt around your waist and thighs — chains of different lengths hung on the walls depending on what position he wanted you in, how bound he wanted to see you.

He presses a crudely made spreader bar he put together from old PVC pipe between your ankles while you stay kneeling, clipping your cuffs into place on the ends. Eddie stands back to admire you in the low light, two candles flickering on his dresser glinting in your eyes.

“Do you worship me?” he asks, lighting a cigarette, holding it in his lips while the smoke leaks out of his mouth. He looks over the instruments laid out on the bedside table, running a finger over your leather bit gag only to pick up his riding crop. You breathe a sigh of relief through your nose and his eyes flick up at you briefly.

“Yes, master,” you respond, Eddie can’t help but grin smugly at how willing you are to say it.

“Who do you pray to?” his voice gets more stern this time, sliding the crop through his hands, tapping the end on his palm.

“My master,” you confess. Your eyes flutter closed for a moment while he tucks a stray hair behind your ear. You savor the gentle touch as it’ll be the last he’ll give you for a while. He takes another drag from cigarette, letting his mouth open so the smoke billows out in a thick cloud in your face. The haze burns your eyes but you fight the desperate need to clamp down your eyelids — lest you be chastised for not keeping your eyes on him.

“Who makes you worthy?” he asks, eyes like shiny black beads narrowing down the slope of his nose. The leather of the crop presses up on your chin, tilting your head up just a bit. You’re not afraid to look at him, but it hurts to do it. He’s so…pretty, so domineering. He raises his brows with heavy eyelids, blinking slowly while he waits for your answer. More clouds of smoke escaping him while he toys with the cigarette between his teeth.

“You make me worthy,” you say.

“That’s right,” he says, tapping the crop under your chin before striking it down on your shoulder. You lean your head back and let out an audible sigh at the subtle sting. He replaces the riding crop under your chin with his hand, holding tight on your jaw.

“Such a sweet, pretty thing,” he says with a darkened stare, his voice deepening to something rumbling and animalistic, “Excited to ruin it.”

You whimper under his touch, tugging away slightly from his grip on your jaw.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutts, pulling your face closer to his, “What did they say in the movie? What was that line?”

He takes a beat to listen to your fearful pants fill his ears, to watch the tears start to wet your eyes. Eddie’s slacks start to tighten at that look in your face, somewhere between terror and complete devotion.

“‘So eager to play, so reluctant to admit it,’” he quotes with a mean chuckle. He takes the now almost finished cigarette out of his mouth, carelessly putting it out on your thigh to match the other fading burn scars he’d littered there. You let out a loud cry at the surprise of the burn. Normally you have time to brace yourself for his cruelty, but maybe he wasn’t in the mood to prepare you. Sometimes he could be so mean.

“No, please,” you whine, squirming your thighs and hips to move away from the assault. It’s hard with with spreader bar under you, with your body contorted and tied up for his pleasure.

“Oh no, can’t have that,” he says with a furrow of his brow, “What’s my biggest rule?”

“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” you whisper out in a gasp, “I’m sorry, sir.”

“You never learn, huh?” he asks, but you know he’s not expecting an answer. Eddie takes the bit gag in his hands, you shiver at the sound of the metal clinking and he notices.

“Not feeling very brave tonight?” he smiles while you open your mouth, settling the bit between your back teeth. The leather gave you something to bite down on when the pain became a little too much. Eddie liked this over a ball gag so he could hear you scream and cry, drool still pouring out of your mouth by the end of the night.

You shake your head no, saliva already pooling under your tongue at the foreign object.

“You’re such a disappointment,” he spits, “Maybe I should untie you and find a different helot to entertain me.”

“Matter of fact,” he starts, finger trailing over the leather cuff on your ankle, “I think I’ll call someone else -- feel like you'll just bore me.”

You ache as he reaches for your binds, trying to beg him to stop but it just comes out as muffled whining through the gag. He undoes one ankle, and then the other, smirking while you start to cry. He takes his time putting the spreader bar back in his closet, hearing you sniffle was making the blood rush in his ears. Eddie leans over you to undo the gag and you smell the smoke of his Camels on him, it's woefully intoxicating. The feeling of his hands gracefully handeling the leather and metal on your body shouldn't make you feel quite like this.

The bit comes out followed by strings of your spit, even after being in for such a short time.

"Please -- please I'll behave," you cry to him, his hands reaching around your neck to work on the removing the leather collar pressed against your skin. He wants to discard you. Your heart drops to your stomach, pounding fast as his nimble fingers work at the buckle behind you. Your reach for his wrists, clawing desperately at them while you beg. "Please sir, I can handle it. I want you to hurt me, I need it," your petulant whine makes his pulse quicken, "Please don't take it off, I'm yours -- please."

"I don't recall giving you permission to touch," Eddie says in a measured, low tone. Your heart shoots from your stomach to your throat, making you sputter. Your hands retreat back to your thighs where they belong, shaking.

"I'm sorry, sir," you sound pitiful, but he doesn't want you to break just yet -- he had all night to destroy you.

"I can take it, I can be g--"

He lets go of the collar, leaving it on and still clasped. Eddie shakes his head while you babble, an exasperated sigh escaping him while one of his hands roughly rakes into your hair while your scalp screams.

"Stop. Fucking. Talking," he growls through gritted teeth. The crack of his other hand making contact with your cheek rings through his small bedroom. Your head turns hard to the side at the impact, the arch in your back was involuntary while the heat of his smack blooms through your cheek -- his handprint already decorating your face.

"Gave you that rule two years ago. You too much of a stupid fucking bitch to remember?" he asks just under a yell, pulling you by the loop on your collar to lay on your stomach, your face by the pillows. You frown and turn your head away from him towards the wall while he reaches for the binds at each corner of the bed, keeping you in place -- spread eagle below him. Open, vulnerable.

"Hips up, whore," he says in your ear, you huff at the admonishment but lift your hips up obediently. He slides a pillow under your hips to keep you at an angle that'll make everything hurt just a little bit more. Eddie's hand skirts up your thigh before leaving a stingy smack on your bare ass only to hear you hum contentedly toward the wall. You turn to look at him before he can ask you to and he reaches for the flogger on the table. He’ll start you off small, work his way up until you were an inconsolable crying mess on the middle of his mattress -- dick buried in your pussy while his hips snap against your bruising and abused skin.

You turn to look at him before he can ask you to and he reaches for the flogger on the table. He’ll start you off small, work his way up until you're an inconsolable crying mess on the middle of his mattress -- dick buried in your pussy while his hips snap against your bruising and abused skin. He lets the leather strips slide over your skin first and you sink into the mattress. The wait was the hardest part, him deciding when you were worthy of his abuse. You jolt when he runs it between your legs, the implication exciting you -- 'If you're a good girl, I'll play with her too.' You can't help but let out an excited whimper, your hips wiggling when he dances the flogger over the meat of your ass again.

"A glutton, are you?" he chides, "That's a sin, y'know."

The leather snakes off of you while he crosses his arms, the tattos on his biceps and forearms bulging, "They say it's a deadly one."

CRACK!

The sting of the flogger lights your whole body on fire, the sparks of it blooming from the sit point at the top of your thigh. He laughs quietly when you writhe under the first hit. Whining at the second, moaning when the third strikes you across both cheeks.

"Wrath is, too," you mutter out. He pinches your hot skin between the knuckle of his forefinger and thumb. You yelp, restraints jingling while they pull at your flailing wrists. "Play nice," he warns through gritted teeth, "Or I won't play with you at all."

He continues quietly, switching between mild pressure and hard, biting whips. He'd considered starting with just his belt, but since he had plans to go further than normal he didn't want you to get too hurt, too quickly. Though, being belted by him truly was your favorite.

The pain was right on the line, your thighs desperate to tighten but unable to by the chains attatched to your ankles. Your hips pushed up against the pillows, dragging downward to get some form of friction while he brought the flogger down on your ass again and again.

"See, and you were so scared before," he taunted, "You love being whipped, don't you?"

"I prefer a little more effort, but -- sure," you sass. Eddie's posture stiffens at your retort.

You turn your head back to the wall, nervous to look at him. You hadn't meant to sass -- it just slipped out. He'd say the same thing if you switched positions. Eddie huffs when you turn your head to the wall, wrenching you up by your hair to readjust you to watch him. Bratting now and again was fine, but not something he liked to deal with during a scene -- especially when he hadn't consented to it beforehand. "Do I look like I'm in the mood?" he asks, squatting to get eye level with you. "No sir," you say, guilt pooling in your chest. "Open your mouth," he instructs, there's no playfulness in the demand. The jovial spark in his eye replaced by a deadened glare. You do as your told, opening your mouth slightly and he begins to shove the handle of the flogger between your teeth lengthwise.

"Bite down," he says, you do. He takes a moment to look at you like that, now unable to snap back at him and smirks.

"A gift for you, since you love getting whipped so much that you're rubbing that slut pussy all over my pillows," he finishes the sentence by cracking his hand back down on your ass over the inflamed skin before going back to his collection of implements.

He switches out for paddle, your least favorite in his collection of them. Leather lined, never fun on a bare ass — big enough to cover a good surface area, thin enough to leave a sting and bruises for tomorrow. He watches your eyes follow it when he picks it up, spinning it in his hand before gripping it again. He taps it gently in the heel of his hand before turning his full attention back to you.

"A little more effort?" he asked with a laugh, "Okay."

He glides the paddle across your thighs first before bringing it down hard enough on the seat of your ass that you could hear it cut through the sound barrier with a loud 'THWAP'. Your eyes rolled back in your head at the pain, your hips jumping off the pillows at the first hit alone. He doesn't give you any reprieve, bringing it down a second time just as hard, then a third and fourth. Remorse had escaped him, chuckling at your loud yelp at the impact. The handle of the flogger falling out of your mouth in a sticky mess in front of you.

"You sound like a dog," he teases, "God, you are a dog."

Your cheeks burn at his comments, knowing he's just going to get more mean as the night continues. It's more exciting than heartbreaking, your thighs twitch while he mocks you. The paddle connects with the tops of your thighs and you jump again, rubbing your face into the mattress to soothe the sting of tears threatening to build in your nose.

"Awfully quiet tonight, you selfish bitch," he hisses, "You think I'm doing this for my health?"

"No sir," you mutter, gasping at the next hit -- charged with his sexualized anger, your whole lower body buzzing, "Thank you, master." "That's better," he grunts, changing his pace to short, forceful, stinging smacks. Eddie was in the mood for this, watching you get more pathetic as the night went on -- doing your best to stay together for him so he could savor when you started to let go and break down. His little pain slut who loved when he took control. Sure, there were so many other types of play he liked -- sometimes he wanted to hear you whine and cry all night while he kept you over his knee on the couch. Fighting you to keep you in place while your legs kicked and you tried to stop his hand from coming down. Crying to daddy about how you'll never be a bad girl again, cumming all over his fingers inbetween spanks. Sometimes he wanted you bent over the kitchen counter so he could belt you when dinner wasn't ready at his arrival from the body shop -- a punished housewife who could never please.

And sometimes, if you'd been really good, he liked having you on top with your hand at his throat. Laughing at him while he whimpers under you, training up your confidence for when he wanted to let go.

But tonight -- you knew your place. Better yet, he made sure to put you in it. "Ah-huh! Ah! Ow-ow-ah!" was all you could call out with his relentless pace, the lump in your throat building. It hurtles up and up, more forceful every time you go to swallow it back down.

Eddie admires the splotchy discoloration, the sheen forming on your raw skin after each direct smack of leather. Bruising already beginning to bloom on the curve of your ass -- christ he just wanted to fucking bite it when it bounced back at him. Taunting him to fuck you, to make you make even more pretty sounds for him.

The next slap hits close enough to your center to make you clench, your orgasm building since he picked up the paddle. Your hips raise while you whine and whimper and his final blow finally makes you let your walls down.

You start to cry. Hard.

"There she is," he sound so pleased with himself, "There's my little cry baby." He gives you an encore, raining down a few lighter smacks from the spit covered flogger over your angry lower half. You shook from the aftershocks and the sobs wracking your chest.

When he puts the tools down in their place on the bedside table, he walks slowly back over to you. His fingers skate over your thigh, humming at the feeling of heat radiating off your body. Eddie makes way toward your inner thigh which was now coated in slick. He knew you came more than once already but it wasn't worth punishing you over, too much sensation to know the difference. His fingertips run over your swollen lips, massaging gently while slipping them between your folds. "Thank you, sir," you croak out, arching your back to feel more of his touch. He bites back the ‘good girl’ on his tongue for remembering your manners. That wasn’t how you both were playing today, but god was it hard to hold back the restraint. He had half a mind to break the scene early just to drive his tongue between your legs. Tease you enough to get you begging for him to let you cum, get your pretty subby voice calling out to God when he was right there in front of you. "Hm," he hums out, removing his fingers and rubbing his calloused hand over your tender ass. You know what he's asking without words. "Orange," you say, making eye contact with him. He bites back his praise again -- 'my brave girl, look at you.' Your confirmation of being okay this far clues him in on what he can do next -- even if you won't like it at first. He lets two open hand smacks come down on your thighs again, sending you into a fresh fit of cries.

He toys with the cane in his hand first when he picks it up from the line of them on his dresser. Your eyes widen when you see it, especially after the flogger and the paddle, you weren't expecting to be caned tonight. Hot wax maybe, but not caned. Fear flows through your veins, meeting every nerve with an icy shiver.

“Are you surprised?” he asks, “Think you don’t deserve this?” You just look up at him from the mattress, half of your face pressed into it.

“You can answer,” he says, “Would love to hear what’s running through that empty head.”

“Don’t punish me, sir, please,” you croak out. The cane really was your enemy, it was only reserved for when Eddie was punishing you after a day of blatant bratting or when you broke a hard rule.

“Punish you?” he asks with knitted brows, placing it next to you while he puts another pillow under your hips, “I'm testing your limits, bunny. You told me you could handle it. You're not a liar are you?”

“No, sir.”

"Good," he replies, but it's not encouraging. "So, I'll ask again -- do you deserve to be caned?"

“Yes, sir,” you respond, face reddening deeper, “I deserve to be caned. I’d do anything for it.”

He chuckles while undoing the restraints on the mattress connected to your cuffs, knowing you're too far gone to try to escape your next fate. "Anything, huh?"

You nod, shimmying a little to get him to start when he picks up the cane again. The sooner he began, the sooner it would be over — but then again, the sooner you wouldn’t be able to sit without his help for a week.

“You’ll do anything?” he asks again, you nod dumbly, “You’ll eat your master’s ass?”

Heat builds in your stomach at the suggestion. The last time you had, he made you feel so dirty in the most delicious way. He came all over your chest and stomach only to punish you for being 'too good' at it on the first try, “If I’m worthy, sir. Please let me.”

“Such a filthy fuck pig,” he tutts, a grin building while he speaks, “You’re so disgusting. Dirty and desperate.”

“Begging to lick my asshole just so I’ll smack you around,” his admonishment hits right down to your pussy, making it twitch, “You hear how you sound?”

“Yes, sir,” you whine.

“What do you sound like?” he asks, a wolffish smile curling across his face.

“I sound like a whore,” you admit, tears building in your eyes again. You heart hammered from the humiliation and the arousal, your nervous system not knowing which feeling to focus on.

“Just like a cheap whore — last on the roster. You’re worthless,” he darkly states, “Pimps would have to pay people to fuck you.”

You pout into your next cry while he continues, “You should feel lucky that I bother.”

“I’m so lucky, sir,” your lips tremble while you say it.

Eddie snaps the cane onto your calves and it burns. Thin and spindly, the smaller the rod the more biting the sting — a sharp reddened line already etched into your skin.

You can’t help the yowl that comes out of you at the feeling. It hurts, and not in a way that makes your legs shake. The pain jolts you out of your hazy subspace and back to a shuddering mess -- your legs in an army crawl position while you push up and away on the bed.

"Don't you dare," he growls, reaching out to grab your ankle to pull you back down. The cane comes down on your already burning skin leaving another thin blood red mark across your ass. Again, again, again. Your legs were vibrating in pain with every big and small tap he brought down on your fleshy backside. You try to shimmy away again, stopped by his hand on your thigh, one of the marks shining with small beads of blood by his thumb. He stops to look at it, hypnotized by it, like he'd never noticed that you bled before.

"Stay right there, baby," he mutters out softly. The change in tone immediately makes you whip your head back to look at him. Eddie lays the cane across the tops of your thighs before gathering the beads of blood on his thumb admiring it and then admiring you. He locks eyes with you, holding your gaze while he licks your blood of his thumb and swallows it. Shit. Maybe it was from Hellraiser being a blood bath of a movie, or maybe it was your little pants and whines from the after stings of being caned -- no matter what it was -- blood was getting Eddie close as fuck to cumming in his boxers; and watching him lick it off his thumb had you dripping all over again. "Get on your back," he orders quietly, a shift in his demeanor -- no longer your mean master but something different, darker. Somewhere in the ether between your God and your damnation. You gasp when you slide of the pillows onto your back, the scratch of his cheap bedspread irritating your new wounds and bruises. Eddie undressing was thankfully there to distract you. He reached into his jeans discarded on the floor, fishing his switchblade out of his back pocket and flicking the blade out. Your heart rate soared, torn between so scared you could cry harder or so turned on you could just gush all over his bed. He climbed like a predator onto the mattress, settling himself between your legs -- the silver of the knife glinting as it appeared next to you in his hand. "Do you trust me?" he asks you for the second time. You nod vigorously through fast inhales and exhales, eyes flicking from his and back to the blade. "Do. You. Trust. Me," he repeats slower, keeping your face trained on him. The cool metal presses against your cheek where you knew his handprint was still etched.

"I trust you," you promise, keeping your eyes on him. He scans your face like he did earlier than night -- he could always tell when you were lying. He leans in to kiss you but it's rough and ragged, meant for his pleasure. Eddie pulls away, lips stringy with spit -- his dark curls closing you in like a curtain where it's just the both of you. "Do I own you?" he asks.

"Yes," you rasp out, "I'm yours." He leans you back on the bed, moving the switch blade to his dominant hand laying it flat on your chest, dragging it in unplanned shapes over your skin before standing it on its tip just under your collarbone. He looks at you, your eyes round and pleading but not afraid -- he seeks your silent confirmation to continue. You blink slowly, your body language a clue, and he blinks back. "All mine," he says to himself, putting pressue on the blade. It hurts, but it's slow and controled while he guides it down in a small straight line. You gasp at the feeling, somehow the quarter inch line felt like it took years to carve into you. He kisses the spot below the small line, watching blood bead out from it -- not enough to drip, not deep enough to pour. He takes the blade to the top of the small line, another quarter inch etched at the top of it. You let out a tiny moan when you feel his hips rut against you, slipping against your slick and swollen fold. "Baby, baby," he mumbles, "Be patient, hm? Can you be patient?"

"Yes, sir," you cry out, watching his lust blown eyes etch another quarter inch line from the main one. More beads of your blood marring whatever he was drawing onto your skin with his blade. The final line etched and you both moaned with eachother. "I l-like how that h-hurts," you breath out, tears still pouring out of you. "I like it, too," he nods. He sits up to admire his work, the blood on your chest, your mascara streaks down your face and neck. His pretty little ruined whore. Eddie leans down, groaning while his tongue drags over the ichor pooling over his art work to reveal a tiny 'E' carved just under your collarbone. You can't stifle the moan in your throat while he continues you lick up your neck, meeting your mouth hungrily. His hands find the backs of your knees, pushing your thighs to your chest using his hips to guide himself unforgivingly into you.

"Oh fuck," he hisses, "Shit, you feel so good."

But you were gone, hazed out, tasting the metallic tang of your blood on your lips passed on from his. The hard thrusting of his cock made your body bounce, soft little mewls escaping you -- too fucked out to engage in actually being fucked. "God, this fucking whore pussy," Eddie panted, your walls squeezing tight aroung him causing loud and lewd squelches to fill the void between Eddie's moans, "Fuckfuckfuckfuck." He wanted chase his high as roughly as he could to finish out the night but your glazed over eyes brought him down. Poor baby. His hand caressed your face while he slowed down his strokes to something soft and deep.

"Hey, hey, baby," he calls out, his voice back to normal -- your Eddie.

"You with me, honey?" he asks, heart racing a little when you don't immediately respond.

"Baby? Angel?" he asks again, taking your chin and giving you a little shake.

"Hm," you respond, your bleary vision clearing up at the sight of him -- big brown eyes searching for life in yours. He smiles when he sees your eyes focus on him, you croak out a small, "Hi."

"There's my girl," he nervously breaths out a laugh. "Don't stop," you whisper out, feeling his slow pace coming to a halt -- but the stretch of him pushing in and out of you was exactly what you needed. "I won't stop," he whispers back, his lips desperate to be against yours again. His pace quickens, finding your hand and lacing your fingers -- pressing it into the mattress to steady himself against you.

"That's my good girl. Ah, fuck. I'm gonna -- hhnnff shit," he grunts into your ear, "G-gonna f-fuckin' fill you -- hhhmmmffuck -- gonna f-fill you up." "Please, daddy. Please fill me up," you whine out. Ugh, Eddie might as well have died and gone to hell hearing your blissed out voice. So broken and stupid and wrecked that she needs her daddy. He couldn't last when you pulsed over him, an orgasm he wished had been bigger from you after all of this. He was almost embarrassed with how big his had been, though yours was round three and his was only the first. He slid out slowly, pulling you in for a kiss that felt like a gentle apology. He rubs noses with you when he pulls away, stroking your hair gently. "You really are my good girl," he praises. "Thank you," you murmur. "Can you stand up for me so I can help you get in the shower?" he suggests, "I'll take care of you." You lazily reach for him to help you out of bed, cried out and fucked out, exhaustion overwhelming you and all of your limbs. He pulls you up, holding you close to him while he walks you to the bathroom. You hear the hiss of the water in the standing shower, leaning against the sink while Eddie inspects every inch of your body while the water warms up and feeds you some ibuprofen for the oncoming pain. He's surprised there wasn't more damage outside of the one cane mark that broke skin. Sure, you were covered in welts -- but when weren't you after a night like this? He looked at the burn mark on your thigh from his cigarette, making a mental note to treat it with Neosporin like you always had to remind him to do. In the greenish light of the bathroom, the little E on your chest stood out even more. He couldn't help but feel a pang of excitement at it -- dried blood already darkening it against your skin. Eddie lead you into the shower, it was a semi tight squeeze when he closed the frosted glass door behind you, but you didn't mind. It was nice to feel his breath on your neck while the water hit you -- warm enough to ease the ache in your muscles, but not too hot to wake up the angry marks on your thighs and backside. "Easy, baby, easy," he chided when you went to reach for the soap, "I got it. I gotch'you." He takes the soap and a clean wash cloth slung over the door, sudsing it over until the light blue fabric was more bubbles than fibers. He started at your neck, moving your wet hair out of the way to get the back -- massaging you gently when your eyes closed. He worked slowly, washing your body in sections, pressing kisses to each one, letting you lean against the plastic of the wall to rest. Whispering your praises into your skin to remind you that you're perfect. "Thank you," he mumbles into your hip, on his knees while he runs the soap into his hands to gently cleanse the backs of your thighs. He knows the cloth is too rough right now, but he doesn't want the area to go ignored.

"Thank you? For what?" you ask sleepily. "Just, bein' my girl," he gives a peck to your thigh, letting his hand come to squeeze your other knee. He gets up, his curls drenched and sticking to his shoulders and face. You survey him under heavy lids and he looks almost sad. "You okay, Ed?"

"Yeah, yeah," his voice is a little shaky and he sniffles, reaching for the shampoo. You let him wash and rinse your hair, he takes his time with the conditioner how you taught him. He does the same for his own, making sure to leave some of it in, so his curls stay hydrated and healthy. His little live in beauty school drop out, where would he be without you to keep him so pretty?

He helps you out of the shower, drying you off and treating your burn and your new 'E' ornament with ointment before bringing you back to bed. Eddie doesn't talk much during this part since you're normally on your stomach. He coats you with a light wash of lotion, unscented so you could still wear your favorite body spray without the smells getting mixed up. He'd made that mistake once before when he bought lavender and you never let him hear the end of it.

He avoids the lotion on your battered body, opting for aloe gel instead to soothe the burn. You hiss at first under his touch, but quickly relax, listening to him hum a melody to himself -- slow and romantic. Eddie finishes babying you with a gentle back rub, reaching up to scratch and massage your scalp -- a full circle moment from when he pulled your hair hours ago to signal the kind of night he wanted to have. With his help, you get situated in his t-shirt and a pair of his old boxers that might as well just be yours at this point. He sniffles again and you look at him, his brown eyes a little glassy with tears. "You love me, right?" he asks, "Even when we -- Even after I do this?"

"Of course," you smile warmly at him, coming more to life as the minutes pass. "Can you..." he falters at first, trying not to cry, "Can you say it?" You hold him, your hand smoothing over his damp curls, "I love you so much." You lean back to look at him, "I love you so much that I let you do all of this to me. You're the only person I would trust to make sure I'm okay." "You mean it?" he smiles weakly. "I mean it," you tilt your head, "You're my favorite." "You're my favorite," he challenges. Eddie's next kiss is deep and loving, the way he kisses you when you come home from date night. The type of kiss where he says he wants to make love to you, both sweating and tied up with each other -- gasping each other's air, "I love you, too."

"I know," you promise him while you guide him out to the living room, hoping to cozy up on the couch and fall asleep on his lap. You both know the adrenaline and pain reliever will wear off soon and you don't want to be awake when the pain starts to really set in. Once you're both settled in, he flicks on the TV while you snuggle up in the blanket you crocheted for him as a gift for your first Christmas. Halloween starts on the screen. "Great timing," Eddie says to himself when his hand finds your head on his lap. "Oh, I meant to tell you at Steve's -- they're working on Hellraiser three," you piped up, still watching the screen, "I read about it in your new Fangoria."

"Oh, sick," he looks down at you and you look up at him with a mischevious smirk. "I'm kind of excited," you shrug, "Maybe it'll wake up a new thing in you for us to try. Maybe we can try whips or something."

He looks at you with a furrowed brow, like he can't believe that you're like this. Eddie shakes his head, still unsure how to wrap his head around what you said. "We have such sights to show you!" you laugh out in your best Pinhead impression. "Girl..." he started, still shaking his head while looking back at the TV, "And they all thought I was a freak?"

#sadist!eddie #sadist!eddie munson #eddie munson au #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #dom eddie munson #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #dark!eddie #dark!eddie munson #eddie munson x you smut #eddie munson x reader smut

2K notes · View notes

sideeve · 4 months

Text

IF IT’S NOT ME

ingredients :: “established” relationship , threaten of a divorce and taking the kids (by f!r) , piv sex , missionary , br*eding k!nk? , normal workaholic!nami , angst + smut/fluff ending , based off my bot

your feet splashing through the puddles took your mind off of everything. your husband, his job, your kids missing their father. everything. you were drenched. but to you, it was better than wallowing in your insecurities.

the sound off a car pulling up on the curb mixed in with the pattering rain drops hitting your shoulder. nanami rolls the window down, the car’s speed matching with yours. “[name], get in the car. it’s too cold for you to be out here.”

if it weren’t for you not answering his messages, he wouldn’t be here. he knew the messages were going through to you and he also knew that you were ignoring each one. “i’m not gonna say it again. get in the car.” realizing that his words weren’t getting through to you, he rushes out the car, sliding out of his suit coat and putting it on you. “will you ever listen to me?”

the car ride consisted of nanami scolding you for not letting him know that you were going on a walk or not listening to him. “this isn’t about you proving how much of an independent woman you are. it’s about you not getting sick.”

he stops the car, looking at you—waiting for you to say something. you knew what this would lead to. you have your face stuffed in a pillow, crying out his name his tip kisses your cervix with each stroke.

but you were tired of that. you didn’t even care about the state of your marriage. you just wanted him to know how hurt his children are because of his absence. it pained your heart each time you heard them cry and beg for their father to come home, consoling them while telling them that it’s not their fault.

not wanting to add to the already annoying equation nanami has made, you step out the car, fishing for your keys and you approach the front door. before you can slide the key into the hole, nanami stops you, mumbling something about a woman shouldn’t be opening a door as he opens the door for you.

“can you explain what that was about?” he rummages through cabinets, grabbing a cup before filling it with water. “and why you couldn’t talk to me about it?” “because we’ve talked about this already.” he turns to you, his face giving a faux shocked face. “have we? does it pertain to my job?” he takes a sip of his drink with heavy eyes.

“you’re never home—” “here we go.” he sets the glass down, preparing for the far from foreign conversation. “i can’t just quit my job. it’s how i put food on the table, [name].” “no one is telling you to quit your job!”

nanami pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing in frustration. he wasn’t one to yell at the ones he loves. and on top of that, your kids where sleeping in a room not that far. “do you see this house? we have this because i work my ass off day and night while you sit your lousy ass on a couch, waiting for me.”

his words jab at you, making your heart twinge. lousy? lousy?! “i’m done.” you walk past him, heading towards the kids’ room. “what are you doing?” nanami was hot on your trail. “i’m done having this conversation. this time, it wasn’t even about me.” having both children in your arms, you head to the front door but not before turning to nanami once more. “it was about our kids.”

he follows you to the car, spewing swears and insults as you try to console your already upset children. “it’s okay. we’re just going to stay with your uncle for a while as mommy gets a job.” you kiss both of their foreheads as you fasten their seatbelts.

“you can’t do this. they’re my children.” nanami tried to catch you before you close the driver’s door, hitting the window. you’ve never seen him this angry. he always kept his composure in tense situations so this was foreign. but you were tired of having to console your babies every night he failed to make it home at a timely manner; it hurt you to know that your children felt unloved by their father.

“i’ll be back for their things tomorrow.” with that, you drive off, leaving nanami shocked and distraught.

the next morning, you fulfilled your promise. you showed up at his house early to collect your children’s belongings. you knocked which was useless since you still had a copy of the house keys.

“oh, you’re here.” he quickly lets you in. it has been less than a day and he looks like shit. the house’s energy had shifted. “is this your way of asking for a divorce?” he pops a question.

“yes, nanami. it is. i’ll have the papers for you to sign soon.” you head to kid’s room, beginning to take all of their belongings in a bag. “and if i don’t sign the papers?” you groan. “don’t be childish.”

“so did we mean nothing to you?” “that’s rich coming from you. you’re barely home so this divorce won’t feel any different from the last few weeks.” you step closer to him. “you keep telling me you’re working to keep a roof over our heads but what are you doing to keep this family together?”

you could hear the cogs in his head turning as he thought of the next thing to say. but he was defeated. he couldn’t come to terms with being an absent father and husband.

his arms pull you into an unexpected hug, leaving you to feel stiff in the hug. “i’m sorry. i—i don’t know what to do. i never wanted this to…” he trails off, hoping you get what he was trying to convey. “i know.” you return the hug, resting your head on his chest.

“can we talk about this? actually take about this. i can’t lose you and the kids.” he leans back, looking you in the eyes. you could tell how much of his guard he let down. he was vulnerable in this moment. he was about to lose the only thing he valued—cherished.

you two had came to agreement. nanami and you would create a reasonable schedule for him in order for him to be in you and your kids’ lives more. “i think we did good.” you put the cap on the expo marker, looking down at the dry-erase calendar, decorated with events and notes. you look up at him, quickly disregarding your anger. “don’t you think?” you smile at him.

though you had pure intentions, nanami’s mind was in a feral state. he hadn’t seen you care for him like this in months and he didn’t realize how much he missed it. it was…sexy.

he gently but quickly pulls you in for a kiss, “jump.” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around your waist as your legs wrap around his. your mouths hadn’t left each others as he moves to your shared bedroom.

he placed you softly on the mattress, quickly shrugging off both yours and his clothes. “i’m sorry,” he mumbles in your skin, kissing down the valley of your breasts, “fuck—i’m sorry.” his fingers loop on the side of your underwear, pulling them off. he gasps as he takes in the sight of your glistening cunt. it had been a while since you two had been active but he remembered the workings of your body.

his thumbs starts to draw tight circles on your clit, “say you forgive me.” he demands softly. he knew you already did. he just needed to hear it verbally for him to be satisfied with himself. “say it.”

at that moment, the only thing that could come out were whines and incoherent responses. you mustered up any type of strength and muscle mobility for you to speak. “i forgive you!” you whine, thrashing your body as his circles get tighter and tighter.

“good girl.”

those words were enough to send you of the edge. you missed his praise, his attentiveness to your body. everything. he pumps his lengths a couple times before bottoming himself in, earning a gasp from you. he winces at how tight you were, “i’ve been neglecting you, my love.” his hand creeps down your arm before intertwining his hand with yours, putting your hand by your head.

his hips push into yours, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the bedroom. nanami’s praises pushed you closer and closer to your second orgasm. you swore you saw heaven each time his cock slide in and down your gummy walls.

he leans down to press and kiss on your lips, whispering—chanting ‘i love you’s. “i’m gonna put a baby in you.” he grunted with intention, his hips quickening.

you felt his load pour into you, your back arching as you followed suit. “fuck.” his hips stop. he closes his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. he slowly slides out of you, laying down next to you while facing you. “what do you think this one with be?” you crack a joke, crossing your legs as you turn to a girl. “i hope it’ll be a girl.” he kisses your cheek, pulling you close to him, your head tucked under his chin.

#do i have a reason for going off the face of the internet again? no🧍🏾‍♀️#nanami smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #kento nanami #jjk #jjk x reader

241 notes · View notes

venus-haze · 2 years

Text

Can’t Help Falling in Love (Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Summary: You wake up in a hospital room surrounded by unfamiliar faces, unable to remember much besides your own name. Elvis, your husband, is devastated at how close he came to losing you and at your amnesia as a result of the car crash you survived. The road to recovery is long, but he stays by your side as the two of you fall in love all over again.

Note: This is based on an anonymous request. Reader is a woman, but no other descriptors are used. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope everyone enjoys it (I feel like there’s a lot of crying in it, though. Which I guess tracks considering the plot). I’m not a medical professional so don’t take what I wrote in this as medical advice or expect a ton of accuracy. Do not interact if you are under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 4.8k

Warnings: Depictions of amnesia and physical injuries as a result of a car accident. Do not interact if you are under 18.

The day you woke up from your three day coma was bright and sunny, but you couldn’t tell because the curtains had been drawn in the room that was crowded with people you didn’t recognize, expressing varying degrees of concern and surprise when you began blinking and shifted a bit in the bed. Your eyes moved from person to person until you had no choice but to focus on a man who had practically thrown himself into your lap, crying uncontrollably. Another man rushed out of the room, shouting for a nurse.

You had no idea who the dark-haired man sobbing into your hospital gown was, but you obviously meant a lot to him if you elicited this kind of reaction. He looked up at you, eyes red from crying, and lack of sleep as you’d later find out, heartbreak written across his handsome face at the realization that you didn’t recognize him.

He was mumbling incoherently, his voice muffled, but you felt the urge to comfort him. Slowly, you reached over and stroked his hair. He looked up at you, kissing your palm as he continued to weep. Still confused as to what was going on, you tried to give him a sympathetic smile.

The other man from before returned to the room with a nurse and a doctor. The nurse immediately began checking your vitals, rattling numbers off to the doctor who made note of them on the clipboard he was holding. You were acutely aware of the various tubes hooked up to you, presumably what had been keeping you alive for however long you’d been out for.

“Can you tell me your name?” the doctor asked.

“Y/N Y/L/N,” you answered.

The crying man squeezed your hand gently, sniffling.

The doctor nodded, writing something on his clipboard before looking at you again. “Do you know your birthday?”

You answered that to his satisfaction. When he asked if you knew what day it was, you didn’t have an answer. He continued asking you similar questions and taking notes, but you felt distressed at being the only person who had no idea what was going on.

“I’m sorry, why am I in the hospital?” you asked. “What happened?”

“You were in a car accident. Neither driver was at fault, just one of those freak things,” the nurse sighed. “You’re lucky you didn’t suffer more damage than you did.”

“Yes, we can’t discharge you just yet, we want to observe you for a few more days—get you started on physical therapy and see what level of occupational therapy you may need,” the doctor said. “You’re also showing symptoms of amnesia, and we’ll need to monitor that as well.”

“How do you know I have amnesia?” you asked.

“When I asked you your name, you responded with your maiden surname, not your married one. I assume you have no idea who the man next to you is.”

You looked at him, an apologetic smile on your face. “No, I’m sorry.”

“You might be the only person in the world who doesn’t,” the nurse quipped.

“It’s me, darlin’. Elvis, your husband,” he said, voice shaky.

“Elvis,” you repeated, seeing if that would jog your memory at all. “Elvis. My husband’s name is Elvis.”

The doctor and nurse spoke among themselves, while Elvis introduced you to the other people in the room, explaining they were friends the two of you had known for a long time. You didn’t recognize any of them, but they all expressed how glad they were that you were awake. It felt a bit overwhelming, and your head started to ache.

“Do you mind if I speak with Y/N alone?” the doctor asked.

“Not at all, doctor,” Elvis said before turning to you. “I’ll be right outside, baby.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

After everyone left the room, the doctor explained your condition to you. While you hadn’t been comatose for too long, your memory had obviously been affected, and he recommended occupational therapy, as he expected you’d have to relearn how to do various day-to-day tasks. It’d take at least six months to a year of physical therapy to get you back to your full range of motion, but he couldn’t give any definite timeline as to when or if your amnesia would go away. Your leg broke in the car crash, and even after the cast came off, he figured you’d still be on crutches as you built up your strength again. Some of your ribs had also cracked, but the doctor didn’t expect any complications with physical healing.

In the hallway, Elvis paced back and forth as he spoke to Jerry and Red, his eyes glancing at the door every few seconds. He hardly had any rest since he arrived at the hospital, but despite the fact that he should surely be exhausted, your waking up sent a rush of adrenaline through him.

“Tell the Colonel to cancel it all—shows, concerts, records. I’m not doin’ a thing until Y/N is better,” Elvis insisted.

Jerry nodded. “He’s gonna be pissed, but I’m with you EP. Y/N needs you.”

“That sack of shit can do whatever he wants. My wife—” he choked up, taking a moment before he could continue, “my wife is in there, and she don’t even know who I am. I almost lost her. I can lose everything, but I can’t lose her.”

“You won’t EP. We got this,” Red assured him. “Sonny’s back at Graceland, so you say the word and he’s on it.”

“You guys head back to Graceland, get some rest. I’m gonna stay here with Y/N,” Elvis said.

“You sure? You’ve barely slept the past few days. You should be getting some rest too,” Jerry said.

“I’ll manage,” he said. “Hey, when you get back to Graceland, will you have someone make Y/N’s favorite and drive it over? Maybe it’ll—I don’t know, do somethin’.”

The doctor walked out of your hospital room, his clipboard at his side. A different nurse from before went into the room. Elvis waved off Jerry and Red to go as he worriedly approached the doctor, who gave him the same rundown you’d gotten.

“I’ve got my people on it,” Elvis assured him. “Whatever she needs, it’s done.”

“Yes, your wife has more resources at her disposal than most. I’m optimistic about her recovery, but money can’t buy time, Mr. Presley, and that’s what she needs most of.”

Elvis considered the doctor’s words, thanking him before returning to your room. The nurse had already left, but she put the TV on for you. You smiled at Elvis, but there was little recognition behind your expression. It made his heart ache, you were everything to him, his best friend, but now he was a stranger to you.

He took his seat next to your bed, and you reached out for his hand. The two of you sat in silence as you watched TV, some comedy show on that made you laugh, but you winced when your ribs ached. Elvis hurriedly changed the channel, looking helpless as he didn’t know how to comfort you. Just then, the phone in your room rang, and you reached over for it.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hey, Y/N. How’re you feeling?” Jerry asked.

“Hi Jerry, I’m okay,” you said.

“That’s good. You’ll get through this, we’re all here to help. Can you put Elvis on?”

“Sure,” you said, handing the phone to your husband. “Jerry wants to talk to you.”

“Thank you, darlin’,” Elvis said before getting on the phone with Jerry.

You didn’t pay much attention to their conversation, instead studying the hospital room that was previously filled with people. There were flower arrangements, gift baskets, and balloons shoved into corners and on top of shelves and even medical equipment. Were you really that important?

“I gotta run out real quick, darlin’. I got a surprise to bring up to you,” Elvis said, snapping you out of your daze.

You nodded, and he gave you a forehead kiss before leaving the room. Grabbing the TV remote, you flipped channels until landing on a news station, hoping some current event they’d mention may jog your memory. You caught the last half of the weather forecast, warm and sunny through the weekend. The station cut to a news anchor behind a desk, a large photo of you and Elvis next to her head.

“Good news from Graceland,” the woman said, “Y/N Presley, wife of rock n’ roll icon Elvis Presley, is awake after being in a coma for nearly four days following a car crash in Memphis less than a week ago. Elvis has announced an unprecedented career hiatus to support his wife’s recovery. The two met on the set of his 1961 movie musical ‘Blue Hawaii’ and their wedding in 1966 was one of the highest viewed live television events in history. We wish Mrs. Presley all the best. In other news—“

Your furrowed your eyebrows. Getting married on TV seemed kind of tacky, but maybe it was what you wanted at the time. From what the anchor said, though, you’d known Elvis for over ten years, yet you couldn’t remember a thing about the man who was such a major part of your life. You were frustrated, tears welling up in your eyes as you figured you could at least remember your wedding day, but it all came up blank.

“Y/N, darlin’, what’s wrong?” Elvis asked as he returned with the container of food.

“Why can’t I remember you? The lady on TV said we’ve been married for six years.”

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault,” he whispered. “I love you no matter what, no matter how long it takes you to remember, or even if you never do.”

“Thank you,” you said with a weak smile.

“Here,” he said, handing the container of food to you. “It’s your favorite. I had it made special for you.”

As soon as you took a bite, your face lit up and his did too. While it didn’t bring on any old memories, it at least tasted familiar and delicious.

“What’s Graceland?” you asked through a mouthful of food.

“It’s our home. You’ll be goin’ back there real soon,” he said. “The doctor says that with your amnesia, it’d be good for you to have your physical therapy there, since it might be familiar to you.”

“Yeah, he said even after the cast is off, I’ll be on crutches for a while.”

He nodded. “I’m gettin’ that all taken care of, got a bedroom on the first floor made up for us until your leg is better.”

About a week later, after some physical therapy sessions and brain pattern monitoring, the doctor cleared you to go home. Elvis had informed him that he arranged for physical and occupational therapists to come by a few days a week to follow the plan the doctor had laid out for your recovery.

A car drove you and Elvis to Graceland from the hospital, and as it approached the mansion, you knew your eyes were practically bulging out of your head. Hundreds of people were crowded outside the gates with signs of well wishes for you and Elvis, some of them crying as they banged on the car windows and shouting incoherently. You knew by then Elvis was famous, but you had underestimated how much.

Though you didn’t remember Graceland, it felt like home. From the furniture to the decor, it was familiar enough for you to feel comfortable there. Some of the people from the hospital were already inside, waiting with even more flowers and gifts than were in your hospital room. Again, everyone was glad to see you. You hung around the living room with everyone before getting tired, and Elvis announced the two of you were going to bed for the evening.

“I’ll wait out here while you get changed,” he said, letting you into the bedroom.

“Okay,” you said.

When he closed the door, you picked up the sleepwear that had been laid out for you, a nightgown that was easy to slip in and out of so as not to strain your muscles. You could tell it was a guest room by the lack of personal decor, and found yourself observing the small details of the room before being startled by a knock at the door.

“You alright in there, baby?” Elvis asked.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said. “You can come in.”

He opened the door, scratching the back of his head. “I guess I could have waited in the bathroom, but I didn’t want you to feel—well, I don’t know. It’s just nice to have you home, darlin’.”

“When I watched the news the other day, the lady said we met on a movie set. Was I an actress?” you asked.

“No, you did hair and makeup. I found every excuse to sit in that chair and talk to you,” he laughed. “One day you caught me messin’ up my hair before I went over to talk to you.”

“Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

He grinned. “That’s exactly what you asked back then.”

“Guess it all worked out, huh?” you smiled.

“It sure did.”

He gave you a kiss on your temple. You were thankful you were at least going through all of this with a husband who seemed to really care about you. Being around Elvis put you at ease, and it was easy to have conversations with him and the whirlwind of people who were in and out of Graceland.

When you weren’t busy with physical therapy or doctor’s visits, you and Elvis would spend a lot of time listening to music or watching old home movies together. The music seemed to jog your memory a bit, but there were no significant breakthroughs. The home movies were bittersweet; you and Elvis looked so happy together in all of them, carefree and in love, but you couldn’t remember any of it.

For a few weeks, when you couldn’t sleep, you’d sneak out of bed and watch the home movies in hopes of recognizing something. Every time Elvis found you like that, he would get upset, not at you, but toward the situation the two of you had ended up in because it just wasn’t fair. Eventually you stopped, not wanting to see him so distraught.

About two months went by with major progress in physical and occupational therapy, but your memory was hazy at best. Still, even if you couldn’t remember all your relationship with Elvis, you knew you loved him, becoming more affectionate and trusting with each day. As you built your strength back up, the two of you would spend more time outside, walking around Graceland and even talking to the fans who seemed to keep vigil outside of the place night and day.

You and Elvis had developed a routine of sitting on the lawn to watch the stars at night, weather permitting. He’d bring a blanket and a radio, and the two of you would talk until someone started yawning, usually, it was you.

“Well, it is about nine, don’t wanna keep you up past your bedtime,” he said one night, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You stepped out of the hair and makeup trailer to see Blue Hawaii’s star running his hand through his styled hair, pushing it any which way so that it was wildly out of place.

“Now what are you undoing all of my hard work for?” you asked, a smile on your face as Elvis looked at you like a kid who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Guess I gotta find a new excuse to talk to you,” he said.

“Or you could just talk to me.”

“How about tonight?” he asked. “The beaches are real pretty at night, the way the moon reflects off the ocean. Not as pretty as you, though.”

“Don’t lay it on too thick, Presley.”

He laughed. “Alright, I was askin’ for that. Just meet me on the beach later, please?”

“What time?”

“Nine.”

“That’s past my bedtime.”

“Y/N, you’re killin’ me.”

“Elvis! They need you back on set!” a production assistant yelled.

You walked over to Elvis, using the comb in your hand to get his hair looking decent enough for filming, as if he needed to try anyway. “See you at nine,” you smiled.

“Im’a hold you to that,” he said before running off to redo whatever scene he had been shooting that day.

“I said that to you on the set of Blue Hawaii,” you said excitedly.

He laughed. “I can’t believe out of all the things, you remember me makin’ a fool of myself.”

You couldn’t help but laugh too.

“I think I fell in love with you that night,” he said. “By the end of filming, I had you workin’ on all my movies. The Colonel said you were a distraction, but I didn’t care.”

The Colonel. A name you’d only heard referenced with tones of disgust by those around you. You couldn’t remember anything about Elvis’ manager, but from what Jerry had told you, when you begged him to clue you in on what everyone else seemed to know, you were glad you didn’t. After all, it was his idea for you and Elvis to get married on TV, a decision that the two of you detested, according to Jerry.

“How many movies did you make?”

“A lot,” he said, “so we spent plenty of time together, believe me.”

“Good, I like spending time with you.”

“I’d hope so.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing him playfully. The two of you went to bed for the night not long after that, and as the next few months went by, bits and pieces of your memories would come back, mostly insignificant in the grand scheme of things, but it was progress. After several appointments with your doctor, you and Elvis had come to terms with the fact that your memory may never fully recover. Despite that, your relationship was strong, and when you told him you loved him for the first time since you woke up from the coma, he cried so hard he almost couldn’t say it back.

The next day, he bought you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, almost an apology of sorts, even though he had nothing to be sorry for, you thought his reaction was sweet. He was always around, but it never felt suffocating, and your physical therapist even commended him for how well he helped you on the days she wasn’t there and you practiced the exercises on your own.

Your occupational therapist was similarly pleased with your progress and began encouraging you to do Elvis’ hair and makeup again in your free time to work on your fine motor skills. The first time you did so, your hands were shaky, and you stayed the hell away from doing any eye makeup, but you found styling his hair relaxing. As you built up your confidence in your skills again, you carefully applied the eyeliner to his eyelids. The result wasn’t perfect, but as you practiced more and more it was like your muscle memory began to kick in again. If only your brain could do the same, you lamented to yourself as you dabbed eyeshadow to Elvis’ eyelids, a look you found he had mostly kept early on in his career, but you liked it.

“When are they gonna let you make the movies you wanna make? You’re Elvis Presley for crying out loud,” you said, applying makeup to your boyfriend of going on three years. His latest movie, Girl Happy, was yet another movie musical, when he’d been wanting to star in more serious dramas for years.

“People don’t wanna see movies where I don’t sing,” Elvis shrugged.

You sighed. “Maybe you could make something with one of those independent directors. They’re doing really amazing things in New York. I mean, that one director–”

“C’mon, baby, what’s this about.”

“I just want you to be happy.”

“As long as I’m with you, I’m happy,” he said.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

You liked to watch when Elvis filmed his movies. You didn’t think he was a bad actor by any means, but you wished he got to work with serious directors on more dramatic roles like he wanted to. Still, he had a knack for comedy and his natural charm made his chemistry with his co-stars stand out. You never felt jealous or insecure; you figured if he wanted to try something, he wouldn’t bring you along to every movie set with him.

After filming was over for the day, he asked you to walk on the beach with him. This time, being in Los Angeles, meant most of the Memphis Mafia had to tag along to make sure you two got some privacy without fans hounding him. Most of the time, he didn’t mind, but tonight was different. He was fidgety, and you knew something was on his mind.

“You alright?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I just thought it’d be a lot easier to do this.”

“Do what?”

He took a deep breath, digging into his pocket and pulling out a small velvet box. When he got down on one knee and opened it to reveal a gorgeous diamond ring, your hands flew to your mouth.

“Y/N, I always thought soulmates were real, and meeting you only made me sure of that. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, if you’ll have me. Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you choked out, practically tackling him in the sand as you threw your arms around him. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

You dropped the makeup brush you were using, to Elvis’ concern.

“You feelin’ okay, darlin’?” he asked. “Should I call the doctor?”

“Yeah, I just remembered something is all,” you answered quietly.

“What was it?”

You smiled. “When you proposed to me.”

His smile matched yours. “I had the ring for weeks. I was waiting for the right moment, and that was it. Just like that first date in Hawaii.”

It was nice, finally remembering some of the more significant aspects of yours and Elvis’ relationship. As the months passed, you were almost completely physically recovered from the car crash, and you didn’t need to do physical therapy nearly as often as you did when you first got back to Graceland. Still, Elvis was overly cautious, not that you could blame him, but sometimes you needed to remind him that you weren’t made of glass.

The two of you started going out more too, mostly to different restaurants in Memphis or to see shows, but you felt almost normal. Maybe you would never be the exact same person you were before the car accident, but you were happy with the progress you’d made and especially that you’d woken up to a husband who didn’t hesitate to drop everything for you. You felt a bit guilty that he was putting his career on hold for you, but it didn’t seem to concern him or anyone else very much. In fact, it seemed like everyone was enjoying the ‘time off’. Well, almost everyone.

Jerry rolled his eyes as he heard the voice on the other end of the line. The Colonel had been a pain in the ass the previous few weeks about Elvis getting back to performing, insisting enough time had passed for you to be fine on your own at Graceland. As much as Jerry tried to stall the Colonel and make up excuses for why Elvis couldn’t come to the phone, it got to the point where the man wouldn’t stop calling.

Finally, Elvis answered, fuming at the Colonel’s audacity. “What? What do you want?”

“It’s been eight months since you’ve performed a show or recorded a new song. You’ve had your time with Y/N, but you have a job to do,” the Colonel said.

“It can wait until she’s better,” Elvis said. “Hell, people still show up every day with their signs and flowers for her.”

“My boy, I understand your sentimentality toward Y/N—”

“Sentimentality? Like Y/N is some girl I keep around and not my damn wife? I knew you were low, but this is somethin’ else,” Elvis raged.

“You’re at risk of violating your agreement with the International Hotel. Need I remind you the debt you owe Jamboree Entertainment. I’m not above taking legal action to get what’s owed to me.”

“How’s it gonna look, some lyin’ old bastard tryin’ to put a man takin’ care of his sick wife out on the street? Do what you want, you’re out. For good this time,” Elvis spat, feeling a weight lift off of his shoulders as he hung up on the Colonel.

“‘Bout time, EP,” Jerry said with a grin.

“You’re damn right, Jerry,” Elvis agreed.

For what felt like the millionth time, you found yourself flipping through your wedding album on your own. It was beautifully made, and the photos were just what you’d expect from one of the most widely covered weddings at the time. There were dozens of them, but a photo of you and Elvis at the altar particularly caught your eye, and you pulled it from the album to get a closer look.

Your wedding day was a fairytale. Everything exactly to your taste as you married the love of your life. It was also, however, nothing short of a public spectacle due to the insistence of the Colonel that if Elvis was going to break millions of hearts across the country by getting married, he may as well make money off of it. You felt like it cheapened the whole thing, and you knew Elvis did too, but for some reason he never wanted to push back against the Colonel. It was the biggest source of tension in your relationship, especially as the wedding got closer.

The day of, though, you weren’t going to let anyone ruin your day. The whole world could watch if they wanted to, but the wedding was for you and Elvis, let them cry into their cake at home. As soon as you got to the altar, you and Elvis broke into tears upon seeing each other, and he pulled you in for a hug that you welcomed.

‘I wish there were no cameras, nobody else here but us,’ Elvis whispered, kissing your cheek. ‘The honeymoon is gonna be completely private. I promise.’

‘It better be,’ you sniffled. “I want you all to myself.”

“You got me, baby. Always.”

You dropped the photo, feeling all of the emotions of that day flooding into you. It was almost overwhelming, the love you felt for him. You didn’t even notice him walking in to find you sobbing over the book.

“Oh baby, it’s okay, you don’t have to remember,” he assured you.

“I do remember. Oh my god, it was beautiful. Even with those stupid cameras, it was the best day of my life,” you cried.

“Mine too,” he said. “The reception was great. You remember how Charlie was cuttin’ it up on the dancefloor?”

“I don’t know if I want to,” you laughed.

It’d been a little over a year since the accident, and while your memory wasn’t completely back to where it had been, you remembered enough, especially how much you loved Elvis and he loved you. It was the push he needed to reevaluate his life. He began considering his career again, touring in a way that wasn’t as physically demanding as his previous schedules had been, and he sure as hell would never step foot in the International again.

The most important part of it all, however, was you. Music was his passion, and he wanted to get on stage again and connect with his fans, who’d been unbelievably supportive of him and you through his career hiatus, but he’d only do it if you were on board. He was a bit apprehensive when he sat you down to share his idea, but you were encouraging, reminding him that he could tell you anything.

“Now, this is just an idea, and it completely depends on you, but I was thinkin’ of tourin’ again,” he said, a smile spreading across his face at your excitement. “I’m not goin’ without you, though, so whenever you’re clear with the doctor, we’ll start plannin’.”

“That sounds great,” you agreed. “I’d absolutely love that.”

“Before we do that, though, I was wonderin’—I know our wedding wasn’t exactly what either of us had in mind. I was thinkin’ maybe we could go to Hawaii, just us, back to where it all started and renew our vows,” he said, almost as if he was nervous, that for some reason you’d answer anything but yes. “Whattya say? Finally have the wedding we both wanted?”

You couldn’t help the tears that began streaming down your face as you nodded, throwing your arms around him to give him a sweet and tender kiss. “I love you so much.”

“I love you more,” he whispered, kissing you again.

Taglist: @eliseinmemphis @kittenlittle24 @crash-and-cure @im-lame-irl @loudwombatmugkid @rxsesss @roseymary04 @queendelrey @jovialladyaurora @positivitylane112 @moonknightswif3 @holy-minseok @datsavageavenger @21bruhs @luckyevansstan @djsjs13949 @butlerslut @ash-omalley @powerofelvis @sad-bisexual-bitch

#elvis x reader #austin!elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #austin!elvis #elvis 2022

1K notes · View notes

grabbaqueen16 · 7 months

Text

Eddie Munson - Through the wire

Eddie stupidly busts his jaw after messing around on skull rock while it was still slippery after heavy rain and Y/n "takes care of him".

SMUT/NSFW*

Slight use of feminine terms, smut, male receiving oral, edging warning.

“SIX WEEKS?!” Eddie sat up so fast he practically jumped out of his hospital bed when the doctor told him how long he’d be in this state.

“I told you to stop fucking around or you’d face the consequences.” You taunted him, he slapped your arm and rolled his eyes

“Is there like a mirror or something so I can check my damage?” Eddie groaned.

You reached into your bag, pulled out a compact mirror and passed it to him

“Jesus christ, are you serious Doc? I have to stay like this for eight whole weeks??” He poked at his puffy cheeks and instantly winced in pain

“Yes Mr Munson, at least six weeks, but who knows, maybe if you start to show good progress in the healing process I might let you out a little earlier.” the doctor smiled and made his way out of the room.

Eddie looked up at you with that look on his face and you just knew he was about to ask you for something crazy

“What do you want?” you asked in a jokingly annoyed tone

“Carry me to the car?” He gave a cheeky smile, you could almost see your reflection on all the shiny metal in his mouth

“Please remind me again, did you break your jaw or your legs? My memory’s a bit foggy” you made a quizzical face and tapped your finger to your lips. Eddie rolled his eyes. “But if it makes you feel any better, I’ll hold your hand while we walk?” You offered. He gave a sarcastic smile and took your hand.

You started walking out to his van together, His instinct was to hop into the driver's seat and he held out his hand for you to pass him the keys.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You spun the keys around your finger

“Uh I could be driving us home if you would be so kind and pass me my keys.” He continued to hold out his hand and scrunched his fingers trying to signal you to put them in his palm

“No operating any vehicles or heavy machinery for at least 8 hours while you’re on the pain meds ” You pouted “Doctors orders.”

“I hate it here.” Eddie grumbled under his breath and scooted over to the passenger’s side, he would’ve intentionally clenched his jaw hard enough to break it again if it wasn’t already wired shut.

You hopped up into the van and claimed your new spot as the driver, it was like unlocking a new region in a video game. Eddie rarely let you drive the van, only if he was too drunk to drive home and that one time he sprained his ankle and you had to drive him everywhere. He would never let anyone else sit in the driver’s seat; that was like his most sacred spot, you were the only exception. You turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared.

“Alright who’s ready to rock and roll” you laughed and pressed on the gas, speeding off down the street

“Oh my god Y/n please slow down I’m getting so car sick” he heaved, desperately rolling down his window to try and cool himself off

“Ok, just relax Eds we’re almost home.” you reached over and held his hand

You pulled up outside the trailer, parked the van and both made your way inside, Eddie swung the front door open, ran to his bedroom and flopped on the bed. Still laying flat on his back he waved you over, you followed and gently sat beside him on the bed.

“How you feeling bud?”

“Like I’m on the verge of death” he whined

“You’ll be ok babe, I promise” you lovingly rubbed his shoulder and placed a kiss on his forehead. “Is there anything I can do for you in the meantime?”

“Well there is one thing…” He turned to look at you and trailed off “And that would be…?” you continued

“No, no it’s fine, nevermind.” he turned away “Well…”

“What is it that you want Eddie?’ you tugged on one of the long strands of hair resting at his shoulders

“Well I mean… It would really cheer me up if you gave me some head?” He shrugged and laughed sheepishly

“You just got out of the hospital and the first thing you want me to do is suck your dick?” You laughed at him “‘Hey, you asked if there was anything you could do and I just gave a suggestion” he laughed as he leaned in to give you a kiss, and you accepted it happily.

“Alright, whatever will help the patient” you said as you started to unbuckle his belt.

You pulled his jeans down to reveal an already growing bulge. You take your time with his boxers, toying with the waistband, slowly sliding it off until you finally reach his ankles, once on the ground you take your position on your knees and pull him in closer by his waist.

You pinch your thumb and pointer finger together making an O shape and slowly start to slide it up and down his length, squeezing tighter when you slide over the tip as you start to feel his dick growing harder.

“I know you just started but I feel so much better already Princess” Eddie said in a low tone, placing his hands on your shoulders, starting to massage them”

You pumped his length with your full hand a few times before slowly sliding the tip into your mouth, causing Eddie to let out an audible moan. You use your hand to continue pumping the rest of his length, swirling your tongue around his tip.

“Fuck baby you’re so good to me” He cried as he threw his head back in bliss. You take his length down your throat and moan, sending vibrations that only make Eddie cry out louder.

You pull off of him, watching a long string of saliva stretch between the two of you before wiping your mouth. Eddie whines at the lack of contact, he moves his hands to hold the sides of your face, caressing them softly. You look up at his needy face, then down at the head of his red and swollen cock that was starting to leak. You look back up at him and watch his face change eagerly as you slowly start to slide it back into your mouth.

“I’m getting so close sweetheart, fuck” he whined. You watch him get closer and closer to the edge as you tease him with your tongue. You can feel his body tensing up as you slowly slide your mouth off again and stop for a minute, leaving him aching and begging you to keep going.

“Please baby, please don’t stop,” he panted. His hands caress your face, lifting your head up to look at him. His eyes darted back and forth between yours rapidly. You placed your hands on his hips, softly tracing patterns up and down his sides to keep him squirming from your touch. You push down on his rock hard dick and watch it spring back up and slap his stomach which made him shiver.

“What do you want me to do for you Princess?” He started to smile realising that you just needed some attention too.

“Nothing right now but…” You spoke in a sultry voice as you started to run your finger up and down the bottom of his cock, from base to tip which started to bring him back to the edge. His full attention to you.

“In six weeks time I expect you to pay me back in full for this little favour” You smiled at him cheekily

You stared straight into his eyes, which were heavy with a mix of lust and love, as you started to take his length into your mouth once more.

“Yes, fuck, anything you want baby” He grunted out as his cock slammed into the back of your throat again and again and again.

Eddie moaned wildly as he came shooting thick ropes into your mouth, he watched as you swallowed and continued to tease him with your hands as you got up. Once you were back up he kissed your lips softly and left gentle kisses down your neck, wrapping his arms around your body.

“God you are so good at that baby,” He stood behind you with his chest pressing into your back, his hands reaching around and resting on your chest, his still semi hard cock pressing into the back of your thigh.

“I know you asked me to repay you when I can use my mouth again, and of course I will, but I hope you don’t expect to wait that long for me to make you feel good too.” He whispered into your ear with a wicked smile as he continued to pepper your neck and cheek with kisses.

A/N This one's been cooking in my drafts for like almost a year now so I hope it was worth the wait 💀 COMMENT IF YOU WANT PART 2 😋Is this fandom even still alive atp? idk but I hope so.

217 notes · View notes