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#curl their fingers together real gentle
seattlesellie · 4 months
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Jealous. 🎀
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pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader
cw: mean dom!ellie sub!reader, jealous kinda toxic ellie, eating it through the panties, orgasm denial, spit play (literally spits down ur panties like), exhibitionism, some dude named michael.
an: pls be gentle, i haven’t written in a long time! 💗 credit to angel gbc for the mod used in the picture above <3
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something we can all agree on is the importance of aftercare — right?
Ellie is big on that obviously, as she should. Caressing her slim fingers down your body, planting wanton kisses on your shoulders, running her palms across your shaky thighs, whispering words of encouragement in your ear;
“Did so good for me, babe”
“I love you, so much”
“Need anything? hm?” She’d murmur against your skin whilst cradling your body from behind.
And she always insists on cleaning you up. She consistently renders you nothing but an achy mess, dried up juices staining your wobbly jelly thighs, combined sweat on your breasts and ribs, back of your neck. The ritual of bringing a wet towel to bed, swiping it’s fabric across your inner thighs, your face, your behind — is a sacred one for her. Not solely because she loves hearing your sweet, exhausted sighs of relief as she cleans the soil away, but also not solely because she gets to see your naked body in all of its glory again.
It’s the act of taking care of what’s hers. In a way, when she wipes your cum away, she’s taking care of herself — too.
Here, lays a solid proof that she can break things apart and put them back together again. She’s not a total fucking fuckup.
The ability of making you scream and cry, then moments later have you whisper in that saccharine voice of yours an airy “love you s’much, Els…”
It’s fucking exhilarating.
She loves it every time, she does it every time.
But today… today you pissed her off. You poked the bear, for real this time.
There’s this new Michael guy in Jackson. He’s handsome, tall, has coal black curls that somehow stay soft and shiny even in this apocalyptic hellscape. He told Ellie and you where he was from, what he did, why he came. Ellie didn’t listen to a thing he was saying. It was like he turned into a fly and started loudly buzzing in her ear. He kept looking at you weird. Smiling at you, smirking, laughing at your jokes, even the ones that weren’t all that funny. She knows you have this affect on people, that damn charm, hell — you have this affect on her.
And she’s usually just playfully jealous, manages to keep it relatively tame and simple by tightening her grip on your waist.
But you just wouldn’t stop bringing him up. “Michael” this, and “Michael” that, “Michael invited us for dinner”, “Michael said this funny thing earlier”,
For all Ellie knows Michael could die in a ditch and she wouldn’t give a fuck.
You're on your way back home from the Tipsy Bison on a chilly Thursday night. Jesse was there, Dina, Maria... and Michael. She thinks of his name and it leaves a bitter taste in her mouth, tart, pungent.
"Meh, I'm more of a Tequila girl, Whiskey tastes like shit" you announced with a giggle. Michael rested his hand on your thigh, and agreed with a nod and a chuckle. For you, it meant nothing.
For Ellie, it meant everything.
Her blood pressure was usually low, steady, healthy as a bull. As of now, Ellie felt like she just ran a marathon. The blood rushed to her head and her brows furrowed without intention. She cracks her neck and moves it left and right, takes a long and burning sip out of her Whiskey and shuts her eyes. She repeats a mantra in her head; "I'm not angry, I'm not angry, It's fine."
But you're so damn intuitive.
"Els? y'tired?" you murmur towards your auburnette girlfriend. She suckles on her bottom lip and considers saying no, but she lies.
"Exhausted"
You leave the humble bar hand in hand, wrapped up in her big coat that smells of mint and wood and Ellie. She prays you won't mention his name, prays you could just go home and forget about this whole thing, but you do, innocently.
"Oh, Michael said one of the horses is sick, I'm thinking of helping out in the barn tomorrow an—"
She stops you mid sentence with a scoff and a tightening grip on your hand. "Oh, mhm, Michael said that?"
Her voice mocks your own a little.
You stop and shift your gaze towards Ellie who has her lips tucked in a tight line. Internally, she's cussing herself out. You don't deserve her anger, but she can't help herself. Your answer is an unsure hum. Her grip tightens even more, and it hurts your palm but you keep on walking side by side, quietly. Five minutes manage to pass with no words being muttered by no one. That's until she shakes her head and lets go of a husky chuckle.
"Did I do something?", you mutter doe eyed. Ellie stops in her tracks and inhales. She grabs you by your waist and walks towards you, making you have to clumsily pace backwards until your back meets a cold grey brick wall with a resounding thud. "Uhg!" You hiccup, breath catching down your throat. You even sweetly giggle, thinking in your head that this could possibly be just a sweet attack of PDA.
But her eyes are dark, gone from emerald to pine, pupils pitch black as big as a button. Her warm whiskey breath meets your nose and your top lip, you gulp. Why isn't she laughing? teasing?
"El?" your voice is still candied, always. Ellies mouth is agape, scarred eyebrows scrunched and furrowed as if she's confused, or pissed, or provoked. Her forehead meets yours so automatically, you attempt to connect your lips with a kiss but she backs away meanly. Albeit her taunting position, how intimidating and truly scary she looks whilst you're caged within her frame, your'e still smiling, you're still thinking she's just teasing.
You're not used to this, she knows, but god knows she yearns to teach you a lesson.
You don't fuck with what's hers.
She licks her bottom lip before she starts speaking.
"Take off your skirt"
Her voice nearly renders you drunk, It's huskiness, gruffness, it's depth, and really, you've only had one shot. Your cheeks heat up and your ears feel as if they're nearly burning. Her lips are so damn close to yours and she still won't let you kiss her.
"Wh... we're in public, we can't—" you stutter, eyes shifting downwards towards the knee she has shoved near your barely covered crotch. When she brings it upwards just to brush delicately on your inner thigh, you let go of a small gasp.
She responds to your gasp with a barely audible "Mhm?", her eyes sharpening with intent.
"Yes we can", she tsk's, and her voice taunts. Her eyes graze over your face, and you expect her next sentence to bite like the last one did, but her voice goes softer. "For me?", she cocks her head to the side.
And it simply pushes you over the edge.
You peel your skirt off of your body, asscheeks plastered over the brick wall as her body squeezes you further back, and you're left half naked with a piece of fabric scrunched below your knees, resting on your shoes. She eyes your body up and down, meeting your pleading and still confused eyes — and for a moment, thinks of just carrying you home and taking care of business once you get there. No jealousy, none of that.
But it's still bitter down her throat, and she can still picture his disgusting hand meeting your soft thigh, her soft thigh — as your body is hers, so that thought is ever so fleeting. It's either now or now.
Her cold as ice finger traces faint circles on your lower tummy, making the fine hairs of your body rise like soldiers. You whimper quietly as her finger snaps the elastic band of your panties and lets it smack down your pelvis. You rub your thighs together, but you're ever so pliant as she makes your legs spread wide with a boot covered foot opening up your calves like a gate.
She whispers in your ear. "Are you wet?", it makes you shiver.
"M'cold" you whine.
She scoffs.
She kneads your bra cup with her palm, squeezing an erect nipple with her thumb and middle finger. "Didn't ask that"
Her eyes meet your gaze and again she reconsiders this whole thing — because you truly look so needy, and your lips are so pouty and sweet and red with cold, you look as if you'd die if she didn't kiss you right now so how can she even be worried, let alone be jealous?
She knows how much you love her, how much you yearn for nobody but her, how her touch leaves you speechless time and time again.
But it's like something takes over, a dark figure, a figure that's thirsty and starving and wants to prove a thing it already knows.
It's an internal struggle, she doesn't want to be possessive,
She can't help it.
Your panties are striped with pink and white, and she looks at them as if they're the most expensive lace in the whole entire world. Her breathing gets heavier as she curls her fingers inside the cotton fabric, pupils darkening when she notices a sweet clear string of your arousal clinging from the entrance of your cunt to the bottom of your underwear.
She chuckles, followed by a sigh of relief that you notice. You are wet, right in the middle of the street where an innocent soul could catch you at any given moment. "Didn't answer cause you're shy?" She knows you so well. You bite your lip and nod, butterflies fighting in the pits of your stomach. A chaste kiss on the lips is all you get from her, and you deeply whine into the air. "At least kiss me!" you beg, — god, you're so cute when you're pissed.
Before landing on her knees, Ellie looks from side to side in order to check that there's truly nobody around, and no — not because she's scared to get caught, but because she'd die before she let someone see her girlfriend half naked with her skirt down her thighs.
Ellie is face to face with your quivering, pantie covered cunt. A wet patch greets her — a fuckin' pleasure, one she can't help but swipe her tongue across. Your choked up, terrified sound of a moan is a symphony to her hears, fuck Mozart. Her eager muscle of a tongue is so warm against your pussy you nearly forget it started snowing yesterday.
You buck your hips inwards, she groans. "No moving", she warns — simply to assert a dominance that has already been asserted. She kisses your little clit, coo's at the way it slightly pokes out of the fabric, erect and pumping on her tongue. "Ellie... Ellie... Ellie", you babble like a prayer, which she nods to. "S'my name, that's fuckin' right", she groans as her husky voice is muffled by your soaked panties.
"Ellie..." you repeat, thighs beginning to ache as you try and spread them further apart, almost sitting on her face.
Ellie, not Michael.
She smiles, greedy, triumphant.
She flicks her tongue on your clit, once, twice, three times before biting on your meaty pussy lips. You bite your knuckles in order to keep your voice down, but she glares up at you. "Do that again n'I swear to god I'm stopping" she growls.
You're not used to this side of her at all, but her voice makes your hole leak a small stream from deep inside. She feels it's wetness on her tongue, eyes closing in ecstasy as she audibly suckles your sweet, tangy, heavenly juices from the now sheer fabric. Her own spit runs down her chin, she doesn't even bother to wipe it off. All you can hear are your breathy, whiney moans, tiny begs of "take 'em off, please", regarding your panties, and Ellie's throaty groans. You're so wet from your own juices and her saliva it nearly gets uncomfortable, but then again you're so goddamn close to cumming.
You try taking matters to your own hands, attempting to peel off your panties from your waist with a shaky hand but she snarls and slaps your wrist away.
"Nuh uh, pussy's fuckin' mine, don't touch it"
With relentless sucking on your drenched clit, and soiled panties, she opens her eyes to merely glare at you again with a warning look. "When you're close, you let me know" she bites.
You don't respond.
A stinging slap meets your pussy, which makes your thighs shake, whole body jolt, and throat ache with a high pitched yelp.
"You're not listening" Ellie warns.
"You listen when I talk" she warns again. Her tongue meets your clit and it pushes it further and further up. You shake, eyesight gone blurry, you're close, you know it by the way the coil down your stomach threatens to snap, and by the way it tickles down there so damn bad.
"M'close" you brokenly wail.
She grunts deeply and stops completely. your heart nearly breaks, no no no no no. "Ellie, Ellie, Els, no!" You try and buck your hips forward but she holds you in place with an iron like grip. You buck them again and she peels off the fabric of your underwear, slightly rising up as she stares inside at the mess she made of you. There's a devilish smirk that creeps up from her lips, apple of one cheek rising. You let out a sigh of relief, thinking that perhaps she'll actually fucking eat you out properly instead of letting you suffer inside a warm, wet material of a mess that truly doesn't look like something wearable anymore. Instead, she audibly spits inside with a "Ptu'", letting the band snap shut. Her saliva mixes with your warm sleek. You're so confused she nearly feels bad, but she's such a cunt that she really doesn't.
"Were going back inside," she murmurs so casually as if she didn't just fuck you up in the middle of the street, as if her chin isn't shiny with your precum. "N'if Michael puts his hand on you again, I'm eating it in front of him"
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arminsumi · 7 months
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geto who's way bigger than you. just imagine sitting on his lap while he hugs you. he might kiss you in the hair or make you ride him until you're dripping all over his pants <3
TOO SMALL TO TAKE IT ALL, HUH?
𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 — 夏油傑
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🔞 smut / n.sfw / 18+ content
NOTE: did I just read Geto Suguru with a size kink or do I need to get my eyes checked out again 🥴 anyways hehe my dearest mama pieck in my inbox good to see u angel 💗
WARNINGS — fem reader, size kink, implied clothed sex, implied unprotected sex + creampie, hair pulling, light roughplay, teasing/playfulness, dirty talk, slight dom/sub dynamic (?), nicknames (daddy, good girl, baby, etc), lmk if i have missed a warning thank u lovelies
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That’s the first thing he noticed about you – you and him, the sheer size difference. It made his eyes light up, it made him smirk. He immediately compared his body size to yours and relished in the fact even your shadow was smaller.
Satoru had introduced the two of you to each other years ago during one especially hot summer. You’d coincidentally stayed at the same hotel in Okinawa for the holidays. Geto Suguru very unashamedly chuckled when you looked up at him, noticing how your eyes skimmed the strip of his physique that showed through his Hawaiian shirt. One of the first things he said to you was “You’re so small” as a playful, cheeky little remark.
And it wasn’t the last time he said it. That was a very common phrase to come out of him. He loved making you very aware of how much bigger he was than you.
Never mind the obvious height difference, he was just bigger than you in every aspect. Hands, feet, forearms, chest, torso, shoulders. So often in the early stages of your relationship, he would put his hand out and splay his fingers so that you’d bring your own hand up to compare, showing off his finger length by curling them over yours, with a suggestive smirk too. At some point he made the very expected dirty joke, “Bet you’d prefer mine over yours, huh? Yeah. I could reach much deeper.”
The size difference between you and him was on his mind whenever he hugged you. He made sure that you felt the tones of his torso pressing tight against your chest.
And it was killing him inside whenever you perched yourself on his lap. You felt his muscular thighs supporting your weight.
Pair those together – hugging him while on his lap? He was conscious of every part of your body that pressed against him, as were you; how could you ignore the press of his biceps against your sides? No one could.
His pants started tightening when he mentally compared every aspect of your body and his body. Your hand and his hand, your shoulders and his shoulders, your leg length and his leg length. You wouldn’t expect nasty thoughts to be circling his mind when he’s pressing such innocent kisses into your hair. But he’s thinking of pulling on that pretty hair, making you squirm on his cozy, comfy, big lap while he stuffs his cock inside your tiny hole.
He sweet talks you while palming and kneading your ass, feeling the supple skin bounce and jiggle makes him giddy.
 Geto was a giant, but a gentle giant. Well, mostly gentle – gentle when he wasn’t thrusting up into you.
He fucked you like a real show-off, ‘cause Geto wanted to make your pussy remember his size. Splitting you open and stretching you out always earned a wolfy grin from his lips. “Feel that? ‘so deep I’m in your tummy, baby. If I cum inside I’m sure not a single drop will spill out.” He coos into your ear, firm grip unmoving from your hips.
The curve of his cock had you seeing stars, it made your body so weak – he liked that. He liked that he had the ability to make your body practically melt in his embrace, he savored the feeling and sight of your body going half-limp like a ragdoll when you were getting fucked too good by him.
Sometimes he was so needy to feel you stretch around him that he didn’t bother fully taking off his clothes, he’d just unbutton and unzip his pants.
“But I’m gonna soak ‘em.” You forewarned.
“Yeah.” He hummed with a smirk, “I like that, baby. Soak daddy’s jeans with your pretty pussy like a good girl. Make a mess on me.”
Now, Geto only gives you a bit of freedom when riding his lap. Those big hands are always attached to your hips and helping to work you up and down. Sometimes he’ll give you the liberty of bouncing on his cock all by yourself, as clumsy as you are in that cock-drunk state, so he can hold the back of your head and give you feverish kisses all over your face. When he feels the tickle of your hair as it slips through his fingers, that’s when he takes a grip of it and pulls back so gently. Geto’s so sweet and gentle – ‘till he’s cumming, that is, then you feel a slight tingle across your scalp as he really pulls on your hair.
“You’re so fucking tiny, baby. Too small to take it all, huh? Deep breaths, there we go – angel you’re so good for me, always listening to me – fuckkk – s-so fucking small, so fucking small ‘n tiny, ‘gonna milk my cum out with that tight hole of yours? Yeah? Good, be good and milk my cum out.”
When he’s through with you, he always praises you like a princess.
“You impress me.” He tells you, “it's so hot that you can take all of me like that, even thought you’re so small. Mhm, that’s right, you’re my baby angel, aren’t you? C’mere, let me kiss you.” He feathers tenderly against the crown of your head, ignorant of the fact his pants are soaked through with his pretty girl’s juices, and presses pretty kisses to your skin.
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nanaslutt · 19 days
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thinking about itsuomi….
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ʚ cont: fem reader, dry humping, praise, he talks you thought it, itsuomi is the greenest flsg, soft soft soft soft
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ
you wrapped your legs tighter around Itsuomi’s waist, trying to resist the urge to roll your hips against his crotch as he kissed you, his hands grabbing the sides of your waist, squeezing your skin tighter every so often.
his body felt so hot against yours, making your skin burn even hotter with desire. he kissed you slowly, passionately, making you really feel every inch of his lips against yours. your chest touched his every time you inhaled, trying to keep your breaths quiet and devoid of whimpers that so desperately wanted to escape.
you hadn’t noticed, too consumed in focusing on the silver haired man’s lips, but you had been squirming against him for a while now, too aroused and overwhelmed with how good this all felt. itsuomi pulled back from your lips, his lidded eyes taking over your face, your lips parted and swollen from the kiss, eyes cloudy, as you looked at him patiently, waiting for his next move.
“do you want to stop?” he asked, his voice coming out soft as he tipped his head at you. you felt your face heat up, never having had someone be so gentle with you before. you shook your head, squeezing your legs around his to emphasize your words.
“okay,” he responded, a barely there smile cracking the corner of his lips before he leaned his face back down. you expected to feel his lips on yours again, but you were instead met with the plushness of his lips on your neck, softly kissing right over your pulse point.
you were unable to hold back the gasp that left your lips, your hand immediately coming up to press against your mouth, a preventative measure to make sure no more embarrassing sounds left your lips. itsuomi pulled back for a moment, his lips just grazing your skin before he spoke, “You don’t have to hold back your voice, same goes for your hips.” he said, exposing you.
you felt a rush of heat burn your face, making you tip your head in the direction opposite from him. “I want to make you feel good, if you need to move, move. I’ll do it with you if you’re too shy, okay?” he said sweetly, pressing another kiss to your pulse point.
Itsuomi watched from the crook of your neck as your eyebrows pinched together before you nodded shyly, your hand pulling back from your mouth, slowly dropping back down onto his shoulder.
you allowed yourself to relax against him when you felt his kisses on your neck turn to sucks, his warm, wet tongue caressing your skin between his lips. you were met with the shallow, slow thrust of his hips against yours, making you gasp again, a sound you tried not to feel too embarrassed about since Itsuomi had told you to let go.
he experimentally thrust against you again, a bit harder this time, making you suck a breath in between your teeth. “feels good?” he whispered between sucks against your neck. “mhm..” you responded quietly, feeling that same familiar throbbing intensify between your thighs.
itsuomi picked up his pace a bit, finding a rhythm as he rutted his hips against yours. you could feel something prominent and hard pressing right against your cunt, making you feel dizzy. you knew what that feeling was. just knowing Itsuomi was as aroused as you were was driving you crazy.
“move your hips back against me, you can do it.” he encouraged, one of his hands sliding down your waist and landing on your hip. his fingers curled behind your lower back as he pulled your hips against him, helping you out.
he released a breathy moan against your neck when you gave in and let yourself move against him, humping your cunt on his crotch when he rubbed himself into you. “just like that.” he praised, picking his head up from the crook of your neck.
you looked like you were being fucked for real, your jaw open as whimpers steadily fell out as his hard boner rubbed against your clothed clit, eyes fluttering in your head, eyebrows scrunched together.
you hummed against his lips when he connected them once more, the kiss a little needier now as he pulled your leg over his hip, making you wrap your legs around his back. you felt yourself gush when his tongue poked against your lips, asking for permission. you opened them more against him, letting his warm tongue enter your mouth and tangle with yours.
breathy moans were being pushed out of your mouth and into his by his hips rutting against you, his cock straining in his pants against you making you feel hotter and hotter with each thrust. you did your best to move your tongue with his, but his quickly overpowered yours as he explored every inch of your mouth.
you cracked your eyes open and noticed how red his face looked, even being so close to yours. his eyebrows were pinched together slightly, twitching every so often when he thrust against you, making his cock rub against the inside of his boxers just right.
Itsuomi swore he could feel how hot you were between your thighs through all the layers of fabric. he wanted so badly to just pull down your panties and stretch you open on his fingers while he sucked your clit into his mouth, but he knew he had to be patient.
Itsuomi was shocked out of his little daydream when your body tightened around him, your hips wiggling more and more, begging for friction against your clit. were you close? just from a little dry humping? Itsuomi pressed himself against you and rolled his hips in circles, making his bulge rub your clit around through your clothes, just like he would do with his fingers.
your lips started to slow against his as kissing him back proved to be harder and harder the closer you got to finishing. you tapped repeatedly on his shoulder, trying to get him to let up a bit so you didn’t cum in your pants.
“it’s okay, you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” he asked between kisses, not slowing his hips once even as he spoke. “you can cum, i got you.” he whispered, making you head feel fuzzy and warm. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders tighter, bracing yourself.
itsuomi wasn’t quite there yet, but he was alright with edging himself if it meant he got to watch you cum. there would be plenty of times in the future he would be able to cum, he wasn’t greedy.
he watched in awe with a slightly opened mouth as your lips detached from his, your eyes fully falling shut, squeezing together tightly. “there you go, good girl.” he whispered as your body shook against his, your abdomen curling into him as your orgasm hit you.
it felt so fucking good as he worked you through it with his hips, rubbing you just the way you needed with his boner. your gasps and cries as you came were like music to his ears, he could feel himself drip pre cum into his boxers just from listening to you.
when you came down he immediately started pressing kisses to your hot cheeks, his hands brushing the stray hairs from your face. “good job, felt good right?” he asked, smiling at you with that usual smirk of his. you nodded, still a little out of it as you looked away, too embarrassed to meet his eyes.
“heh, i know. promise i’ll make you feel that again. over and over, as many times as you want.” he said, his words making your face burn furiously. you nodded and pushed his shoulders away, trying to hide. itsuomi giggled and separated his body from yours, sitting on the side of the bed as he played with your inner thigh.
“cmon, gotta get you cleaned up. i’ll run you a bath.” he said, his head tipping in the direction of the bathroom. you furrowed your eyebrows, looking down at the very obvious boner in his pants. itsuomi caught your gaze and pulled his t-shirt down over his cock, doing little to conceal it. “don’t worry about me, it’ll go down on its own.”
you felt bad he didn’t get to cum, but he seemed adamant in his words. next time, you would be sure to make him cum too. you nodded and let him scoop you into his arms as he walked you to the bathroom.
itsuomi wasn’t worried in the slightest about his little problem. he already planned to take care of it in his room while you soaked in the bath anyways, using the image of you orgasming on him as material to jerk off. the scene replaying over and over in his head on repeat.
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tetzoro · 4 months
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GOOD MORNING, INDEED — ༉‧₊˚.
ft. nanami kento !
꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after a long night, nanami loves nothing more than to laze around with you all morning.
꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : MDNI. f!reader. established relationship, cockwarming, unprotected sex, praise, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, nanami gets a teensy feral, creampie — WC : 1.6k
꒰ NOTES ꒱ : kind of a part two to this fic but you don’t need to read that to read this ! woke up this morning and i needed to write this out so please enjoy <3 this is real and canon btw ᰔ
reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.゚
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the morning sun started to peek past the curtains and into the room, showering everything in soft golden hues, rousing the world to rise with it. nanami’s hold on you tightened, naked bodies pressed together as he refused to let go.
you could feel him twitch inside of you, his cock still nestled deep between your legs from the night before. you unceremoniously clench around him just thinking about how he had come home last night, all desperate and needy for your touch.
but he owes you — promised he’d fuck you first thing in the morning. his gentle snores quieted a while ago and you could tell he was awake, perfectly content just holding you in his arms on this lazy day.
but you need more, his greedy girl, as he likes to say. you slowly move your hips back against his, searching for some sort of friction from your lover. 
the arms he had wrapped around you tightened, involuntarily shoving himself deeper inside of you, chasing your heavenly warmth.
“don’t start something you can't finish.” he rumbles, the deep sound of his morning voice curling around your ears. you almost gulp, thighs rubbing together as he remains stagnant in your hold, cock all snug within your warm walls.
“i can handle it.” you breathe out. “been waiting for you all night, please ken.”
“alright,” he chuckles lightly, peppering a kiss on the back of your head as he adjusts himself. his arms move from where they were nestled around your stomach and cage you in his hold instead, keeping your back flush against his chest. “anything for you, my love.”
with that, he snaps his hips against yours, your eyes flying open at the sudden pleasure. an elongated moan slipped past your lips, the sound only spurring him on more as he began a steady pace.
“hated being out so late last night.” nanami starts talking, the sound of your sopping cunt taking him repeatedly fills the room. “just wanted to be with you, tucked away in our room.”
“wanted to —aah — wanted that too, ken.” you gasp out, his cock driving into you faster, lodging itself up against your cervix, kissing it with each thrust. 
“you’re so good to me.” he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, kissing down along the back of your shoulders. “taking me so well. makes me want to quit my job and just stay here with you all day.”
you clamp down on him at his words, wanting nothing more than nanami to quit his sorcerer life, running away with you for a life of pleasure and luxury — the very thing he deserves.
“oh, you like that idea, do you?” he breathlessly chuckles, driving into you harder. whatever mission he was on had taken a toll, one that you knew had him on the cusp of his breaking point. 
“mhm, yes!” you mewl out, trying to meet his thrusts as your high nears. “want you to run away with me.”
“tempting.” he says simply, but his body betrays him — cock pulsing deep within you, screaming for your little shared dream to become a reality. he could see it now, the two of you lounging on the beach, soaking up each others company without a care in the world, far removed from any danger or devastation. “very tempting.”
“please, ken.” you whine, not sure if you were begging for release or for him to go through with leaving the jujutsu world, but you settle on both. in response, his hand moves down your sides, kneading your flesh on his way to your neglected nub, deft fingers quickly encircling it.
your body jolts, pleasure numbing your mind to only focus on him. kento. kento. kento. his name a mantra filling every thought in your head, so full that it slips from between your lips and into the morning air.
“i’ve got you.” he murmurs in your ear before kissing along side it. “let go f’me. always look so pretty when you do.”
with a sweet cry of his name, you clench around him so tightly, a vice like grip hugging and squeezing his cock as you cum, your arousal pooling on the sheets below.
“you’re so perfect, all for me.” his pace drastically slows down, the drag of his cock along your quivering walls had him holding you tighter, getting as close as possible.
nanami takes his time mouthing at your neck, savoring the taste of you as he languidly thrusts his hips. the amount of self control he had was admirable, making sure you came down from your high all safe and sound.
but he had ulterior motives, waiting for you to catch your breath just so he can steal it all over again. as soon as you got a little too comfortable, he snapped his hips back against yours, relishing in your little mewl of surprise.
“didn’t i warn you not to start something you can’t finish?” his warm breath fans your ear.
you hold onto the one arm that remains wrapped around you, clutching onto it as if it’ll protect you from his own vicious thrust. frustrations from the night before ooze out of him — taking it all out on you. 
the way he’s thrusting is nothing short of primal, grunts flowing from his mouth as he takes you the way he wanted to last night if he wasn’t so damn tired. working overtime cut into the time he could be sharing with you, the one that makes his world go round.
“you’re intoxicating.” his voice filled with need as he feels his abdomen tighten, ready to give you every piece of him. “taking me so well, like you were made f’me.”
“we were made for each other.” you hiccup out, trying to keep up with his pace. the coil inside of you was winding up again, pleasure pooling in your gut as you were going to tumble over the edge. your admission has him snapping his hips further into you, unable to hold back any longer. whenever nanami got like this, all you could do was lay there and take it. 
“yes we were.” he pants out, clutching onto you tighter as he loses himself in you. “gonna cum with me?”
“yes! s’close.” you mewl, nanami moving his fingers back to your nub to help push you over the edge. you squeeze around him, ready to milk his cock dry as you twitch under his hold, the pleasure violently consuming you. 
your thighs tremble as the steady pace he had earlier twists into something hurried, erratic. sweet groans of your name drip from his lips into your skin as they press against your shoulder. 
he buries himself within you, hips bucking against the swell of your ass as he cums inside of you, slowly fucking it deeper as you both come down from your high. after a moment, you blink away the pleasurable haze that was settling in your mind, the sound of nanami’s voice bringing you back to him.
“there she is.” nanami says, easily turning you around so you're facing him now. he affectionately caresses your face, eyes filled to the brim with love and adoration for you. 
seeing nanami kento like this was truly a sight to behold, your lips twitching upward knowing you’re the only one that’ll get to see him like this — the walls around his heart all knocked down as he takes your hand and lets you in.
“here i am.” you answer meekly, still trying to catch your breath. you gaze up at him with wide eyes, lashes fluttering softly, one of his weaknesses. the question sat at the tip of your tongue, screaming to be like out yet nothing came out. but like always, he had a knack for reading you all too well.
“you want to know if i was serious, don’t you?” he asks, voice somber. you’d do anything to pack your bags with him now, taking the first flight out of here. but you never wanted to push. after what felt like the longest moment in the world, he answers. “i was going to wait until we were engaged, but yes. i’d love nothing more than to run away with you, leave all of this behind. you’re the only one i want to devote myself to.” 
your smile melts a core part of him, your arms clutching onto him like if you didn’t, he’d float away. but in reality, you were always the very thing to keep him grounded.
“so, when do we leave?” you kiss his face, pressing your lips against every inch of his skin before capturing his lips with yours. the two of you get lost in the kiss, languidly moving against each other like you had all the time in the world. and maybe now you do. the question still swirls around in both of your hands and in a snap, he makes his decision. the ring that was tucked away in his dresser was about to make it’s debut later today, and he couldn’t help give you another kiss in anticipation.
“no time like the present, right?” he said with a smile that sealed both of your fates. “but first, let me make you some breakfast.”
“wait!” you grab onto him before he gets up. he looks down at you in slight confusion before it melts away once your lips press against his once again. “good morning.”
“good morning, indeed.” he says as he pulls away, wrapping you up in the blanket before he moves to the kitchen – ready to start the morning that will define the rest of your lives together.
3K notes · View notes
hanasnx · 3 months
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rafe wld so get off on u being scared. like you’d be watching a scary movie together and he’d have his hand down ur pants to calm u down when u get scared and jumpy
-🎀
MINORS DNI 18+
u don’t know what this did to me .. maybe it’s a lil different than your original idea but it’s where the voices took me
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It’s not that you don’t like horror movies, it’s just that you have a hard time handling them. When your boyfriend expressed passing interest in a certain film, you didn’t want to tell him no, there’s hardly anything that earns his attention. But the entire time, you haven’t been able to sit still. Susceptible to every jump scare and every surge of music, you act like a child. Even his gentle chastising doesn’t get it through your head. After a sudden movement on screen and a blast of noise from the speakers, you squeak, clutching onto RAFE CAMERON’s shirt as you curl into him.
“Thought you said you could handle this.” he mutters, unresponsive to how you cling onto him. The arm draped behind you on the back of the couch remains there as you silently wish he’d wrap you in it.
“I can, I can.” you insist. “How are you not scared?” Your face buried in his chest means you can’t see how he eyes you up. Darkened pupils and rolling his tongue between his lips as he watches you peek at the screen every so often.
“C’mon. Could see the boom mic like five minutes ago.” he replies, but that’s not the real reason. It’s because he’s been too busy with his attention on you. Every time you’d jump, and scream, and claw at him… sure, it was annoying, but it was also getting him hot. It’s not something he fully understands, but his hips shift forward anyway when he adjusts in his seat. His free hand subtly rearranges himself, letting his halfie get some breathing room. Your temple lays on his upper chest, and your fingers fidget with your lower lip uneasily, finally working up the courage to peer at the television again. While you’re captivated, his arm discretely winds around you, and you’re so locked in you don’t even notice.
“C’mere, baby,” he murmurs, and you listen to him, shuffling impossibly closer into his side you’re practically on his lap. “Yeah, that’s right.” A mess of tingles travels up your spine, but you’re sure it’s the fact your hair is already standing on end when in reality it’s his low voice whispering praises in your ear. “Wanna be my brave girl?”
A hand wedges in between your bodies, in between your legs, and your temperature rises with every inch he gains. From your thigh to the inside, down and over, long fingers stroke at your sex through your pants. Your attention torn between the movie and where his hand is, you’re not sure entirely what’s occurring. At least not until his fingertips dip into your waistband and you unconsciously adjust to make room for him. To reward you, his arm curls up from your back, cradling your head as the hand pets your hair. You relax as he rubs you in two different places.
The pads of his fingers apply pressure to the skin above your clit, screwing sweet little circles. You whimper through your nose and you shift.
“Keep your eyes on the TV.” he tells you. Those fingers slide down, pinching your clit between them, collecting a little moisture from your slit to bring it up, and smear it on your bud. “Yeah, baby, doin’ good. Jus’ like that.” he breathes, commending you for sitting pretty for him and taking it. You can barely keep your eyes open, fighting them not to squeeze shut. Curiously, his middle finger traces your hole, and sinks in to the first knuckle. Sharply, you inhale through your nose, and he holds on to you a little tighter. “Not even here, princess, don’t worry about me.” he whispers against your forehead, drawing his finger out only to dip back in, introducing you to more this time.
You’ve been watching, like he told you to, and a jump-scare does its job, jolting your whole body with fear as you scream. The movement causes his whole middle finger to plunge into you, and a groan he’d been holding releases from his throat. It’s visceral, and something snaps. He gives you two whole fingers, then three. Shoving them into your cunt over and over again with vehement as you writhe. His hold on you keeps you where he wants you while he relentlessly finger-fucks you. Out of instinct, you try to hide your face, but that hand that had pet your hair grabs onto your scalp, fixing you to face the television again. He grips onto your head, raising your brows as if to force your eyes open himself, “Keep your fucking eyes on the movie.”
1K notes · View notes
luveline · 2 years
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𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
summary You ask your best friend Eddie to give you your first kiss. Eddie's not really in the habit of saying no to you. [4k]
warnings fem!reader, fluff, first kiss, eddie being totally sweet on his best friend, wrist kisses, sharing a bed, eddie reads to you, you hurt your arm and eddie is overprotective/doting etc, unspoken mutual pining, requested here
𓆩❤︎𓆪
"This is way heavier than you implied," you say, words followed by a startled, pained gasp as you lose your grip on the amp and it almost pops your wrist from the socket trying to keep it up. 
"Shit," he says. 
Eddie quickly shoves the bigger amp he'd been carrying into the back of the van and makes to help you, his fingers pushing into your stomach as he lugs it up into his arms.
"I'm sorry," he says, and for once you think his apology might be genuine. "I forget how heavy they feel at the end of the night." 
Your arms ache. You definitely pulled something you didn't mean to, a sharp pinching pain climbing from your wrist to the crook of your elbow. "Eddie, I think I hurt myself." 
He shoves the last amp into the van and doesn't bother closing the door, turning back to you with a concerned grimace. "Yeah? Your wrist?" 
He holds his hand out and you extend your arm, wincing. He's tentative, taking your wrist in one hand while the other grasps your upper arm loosely. 
"What's it feel like?" 
"Like I twisted my ankle, but in my wrist." 
He laughs under his breath at your explanation, sweat-damp hair falling into his eyes as he looks you over. "The word you're looking for is 'sprained,'" he informs you jovially. 
There's no physical evidence of any injury, not that either of you had expected that, and he has no real reason to be touching you. His thumb smooths over the flat of your wrist.
"How bad is it? Amputation?" you ask, suddenly all drama. You put on a tearful frown and pinch your eyebrows together. 
Eddie – who's used to this, who encourages this – nods gravely. "You'll likely never use it again." 
"Good heavens, doc. Is there really nothing you can do?" you implore, leaning away from him with your uninjured hand thrown to your forehead. 
"Nothing… unless you're willing to undergo the most invasive, painful, gruesome operation any one girl has ever undergone." 
"Anything." 
"Close your eyes." 
You close them, always willing to play these fanciful make-believe's with him. He's charming, it's funny, but you can't say you expect the hot press of his lips against your pulse. If it had been a smacking, playful thing with too much spit you would have laughed about it, but it hadn't been. It's gentle. It's sweet. 
He pulls away. You open your eyes to find him lingering, staring at your wrist. A split-second. 
"Fixed, right?" he asks smugly. 
You take your arm back and curl it towards your chest, twinging with pain. "Definitely. Good as new." 
Eddie slams the back doors shut and stretches with a groan, cool night air kissing the shining sliver of abdomen that emerges. He's always sweaty after a gig. You know you should find it gross. 
You should. 
"Alright, get in the van, sweet thing. It's way past your bedtime." 
You laugh and climb into the passenger side, skirt riding up and tights featuring a brand new ladder thanks to some idiot who'd almost broken your leg. You point it out to Eddie as he starts the engine, "Did you see this? S'my last good pair of tights."
He tugs at the ladder and you squeal, pulling your thigh up and over the other so he can't reach it.
"There, they're punk now. Do it on purpose and you're cool," he says sagely. 
"Are you staying?" he asks, the question so familiar it doesn't need a proper end. 
"Thanks for that." 
There's lost minutes of a comfortable silence. You watch the roads change as you draw nearer and nearer to home.
"If you shower first." 
He sighs like this is very tortuous of you to ask but agrees. "Yeah, whatever. Always get what you want," he mutters, taking a rough turn that has you gripping your seat. "My bad." 
"Learn to drive!" you demand, laughing. 
"You learn to drive! Then you wouldn't need a ride every night!" 
"Baby," you say earnestly. "Rides to your shows." 
He looks at you out of the corner of his eye. You turn to him, perplexed by his uncharacteristic silence. Usually he has something quick to say, an uppity comeback, too witty for his own good and twice as fast. 
"What? Wait, don't tell me, you're having a total epiphany right now on why I'm the best friend you've ever had." You nod to yourself, leaning back in your seat with your chin held high. "It's easy. I'm extremely dedicated, I'm sharp as a whip. I'm funny, I'm confident-" 
"Humble." 
"I'm humble. And obviously very pretty."
He hums to himself. "I kind of hate when you joke about stuff like that." 
You blink and drop your chin. "What?" you ask. Weaker than you mean to, your chest feels that heavy weight of an unexpected argument, but Eddie doesn't look angry. 
"Because- 'cos I know you don't mean it." He draws his eyes from the road, a familiar stretch of black top leading into Forest Hills, and gives you a well-meaning grimace. 
"Sorry, I-" 
He clears his throat. "No, don't be. I guess I wished you actually believed that shit. Do you know how many people would come to all of my shows? Listen to the same ten songs, drink the same shitty beer and then help me pack up at the end of the night?" He sounds back to normal. Punchy, a hair's width from incensed. "Nobody but you." 
"I'm your best friend," you say firmly. "Of course I'm gonna do all that." 
"Right." He laughs and scrapes a hand through his dishevelled hair. 
You pull into the parking spot and climb out of the van. You slip like you always do, giggling to yourself as Eddie comes around to roll his eyes at you and shut the door. 
"We'll leave it for tonight," he says after he's retrieved Sweetheart, his prized guitar, traipsing up the steps to the front door. "Don't want you straining your poor wrist any further." 
You kind of agree. "Or you could do it all by yourself and I'll watch." 
"Maybe tomorrow. Are you hungry?" 
You ignore his question and waltz straight into his bedroom, throwing yourself down on his rumpled sheets with a harrumph. He puts Sweetheart back into her rightful place and presses a kiss to his fingers. You can't help thinking of the kiss he'd given you, bringing your wrist to your chest where he can't see. It feels the same as it had before, but different. It still aches. 
Eddie throws himself down next to you and climbs up over your back, a hand on your shoulder. "Is it still hurting?" 
You squeeze it. "Not really." 
"Let me see? If it's swollen I could get you some ice. Or, like, a bag of frozen peas. Not that I think we'd have anything that green in the freezer," he corrects himself.
"I don't think they have to be peas to work." 
"What if that's where you're wrong? What if we totally need the power of the peas?" 
You turn on your back so he can see your wrist. Hovering above you, all his smells and sounds are amplified. The gentle hum as he looks over your arm. The smell of sweat under deodorant, cigarette smoke and something funkier. Then, mixed in with everything, cedar. 
When his kind attention on your wrist becomes too much you wrinkle your nose and make a big show of moving away from him. "God, you stink." 
"You're fucking horrible," he says, putting your arm down carefully. "I'm gonna shower. Find your pajamas." 
"Did you wash them?" you ask as he climbs off of the bed. 
"Nope." 
You grumble about dirty clothes and search for the pajamas you'd left here last time. Eddie disappears into the cramped bathroom and you can hear every sound he makes, the clipping of bottle caps, even his footsteps moving from the cabinet under the sink and into the shower. 
Water sloughs heavily against the glass partition and you try not to listen, try not to think about him and what he's doing and where his hands are. 
When he comes in he's in a towel and nothing else. You squeak and pull his covers up past your eyes. "Christ, Eds." 
"What? It's my room. I forgot to take clothes in with me." 
"You're sullying my eyes." 
"Like you've never seen it before." 
You scowl. "I've never seen you naked." 
"Can you come out? You're being ridiculous." 
You hear him go into the bathroom and let the sheets fall from your face, blinking at the sudden brightness. Yellow lamp light bounces of the poster-covered walls, shiny as egg yolk. 
He's left the bathroom door open. You peer out into the hallway and then stop yourself, feeling guilty. You don't actually want to see him naked. You're curious. 
"Fine," he says as he trudges back in, plaid pants low on his hips. He shrugs into a t-shirt and it sticks to his damp torso, leaving his dark happy trail on show for the second time tonight. "You've never seen me naked. It's not like you've never seen any guy naked." 
You feel a tepid mixture of embarrassment and defensiveness. "Who says I've seen a guy naked?" 
His eyes are owlishly large, dark lashes not far from kissing his eyebrows as they pinch together. "What?" 
You don't repeat yourself. 
"You fucked Jerry Mandoza." 
"Did not," you say, startled. 
"I gave you condoms." 
You resist the urge to glare at him. "And you can have them back, if you like. They've been in my nightstand for a year." 
"I thought you liked him." 
"I did. I just wasn't… ready." 
He holds his hands up in surrender. "That's fine, babe. Swear. But, you never told me. Why didn't you tell me?" 
He sits heavily at the end of the bed and takes the towel from around his neck, scrubbing ruthlessly at his wet curls. 
"That's exactly why your hair gets so frizzy," you chide lightly, climbing on knees to his side. You ease the towel from his hands and are much kinder than he'd been, drying the skin before his hairline and behind his ears and then moving onto his pretty curls. 
"He didn't do anything creepy, did he?" Eddie asks. He smells like toothpaste. 
You laugh as you wring excess water from his hair as carefully as you can. "No. He was actually really sweet. Said all the right things. He was a gentleman," you drawl  dropping the towel back to his shoulders. 
"But?" 
You sit back and smile at him. "I don't know. He leaned in for a kiss and I just… I got so nervous about it. He closed his eyes and I didn't think, I turned my cheek. He didn't call me for another date. Can't say I blame him." 
You're not sure why you never told Eddie that story before. He tilts his head to one side and squints. "Why were you nervous? He was in marching band." 
You snort. "It wasn't about him. I guess I was worried my first kiss would be awful." 
He rubs the back of his neck with his towel. "First kiss, huh?" he asks. 
"Right." 
He pulls the towel away, holds it in his lap. You notice his rings are missing, likely still in the bathroom. "I mean, I think you did the right thing. If you weren't ready it can't hurt to wait. And first kisses, they can really suck. Mine, with fucking- fucking Darren Harmon, that sucked. He spit in my mouth so much I think I tasted his dinner from the night before." 
You laugh in shock and disgust. "That's gross." 
"Tell me about it." 
"Why did he spit?" 
Eddie brings his legs up onto the bed and his tone is gentle. "Well, when you kiss someone, there's like-" He raises his hands and drops them, lost for the right words. "You know, tongue." 
"Is it weird?" 
"Sure. Of course it is. But it's really fucking fun, too. Or it can be, if the spit is kept to a minimum." He purses his lips, eyebrows raised. "Actually, spit can be kinda nice if you like the person you're kissing. It's hard to explain." 
You spread your legs to fall into a W-shape, hands braced on your knees. "Sorry, I'm not trying to harass you for details." 
"You're my best friend. I'll tell you anything you want." 
You smile at your legs. 
Eddie reaches over to put his hand atop yours. He's leaning toward you, hair falling in his face as he catches your eye. "It's fine. Keep your first kiss for someone you actually like, babe. You'll like it better." 
He squeezes your fingers and leaves the room. You can hear him filling a glass of water and turning off all the lights he's left on. 
"Did you want anything else?" he asks, offering the glass. 
"No, I'm just gonna brush my teeth really quick."
"Take your time." 
You take a little bit more than you need to, staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror until your heart is pounding, thoughts coming a thousand a second. Lately, Eddie's touches – his hand around your wrist, his thigh over your thigh, even the thud of his rubber toed converse tapping yours – have become individual events in time. Even when you can't remember the conversation, you can remember his skin on yours. You look at photos from gigs and instead of thinking, Oh, that's the night we made fun of Gareth's new haircut, a truly momentous occasion, you think, That's the night Eddie tugged me by the belt loop. That's when he brushed an eyelash off of my cheek. That's when he leaned in so close I thought he was gonna kiss me. 
Even now, the conversation about kisses is fading though you desperately want to remember what he'd said. The sound of his voice slips away. The heat of his fingers curled around yours remains. 
You wash your hands twice and don't feel any better. 
As if destiny or some higher power feels the need to taunt you, you slide into bed with an amicable handful of inches between your thigh and Eddie's and he totally ignores the gap, sidling up to you with a smile. 
"You'll like this," he says, spreading the paperback in his hands open on your thigh. "'A pockmark of matter that can dissolve any light that threatens to eradicate, to nullify, to quantify. An indelible darkness, spreading from one universe to the other, the pristine pages of a tome sullied by a piercing fountain of ink,'" he reads to you, his voice smooth and unhurried. "Guess what she's talking about?" 
"Dark matter?" 
"What? Keep your astronomy to yourself, dork. She's talking about the Puppet's heart. How sick is that?" 
You grin. It is pretty sick. 
Eddie's smile grows with yours, though his lips part when he notices something on your face. "You have-" He brings his thumb to your mouth and brushes it roughly, tugging the soft pillow of your upper lip up. 
You turn your face. "Jeez. Keep your hands to yourself, Munson." 
"Sorry," he says, not sounding very sorry. 
"You wanna read some more of your book to me?" you ask. "My eyes are tired." 
You lay down flat with one of his pillows smushed under your head and Eddie reads, sitting with his back to the headboard. "'You turn the page and find the ink has eaten into the next page, and the next. The damage is expansive, Dolly says, lifting her chin. But not limitless. Eventually, a page will turn. Eventually, the page beneath remains plain.'" 
"I thought Dolly and the Puppet loved each other," you murmur, watching his finger slide up the back of the book. 
He gives you a knowing smile. "They did." 
"Not anymore?" 
"I don't know. He's not the same anymore. He really is evil," Eddie says. "'The Puppet becomes a man of flesh and bone before her, nothing like she had remembered and yet the same. His voice, slick as oil, becomes a malfeasance of sound where before it had been her most treasured melody. And if the tome were sullied to begin with? The Puppet asks. If the darkness subsisted where I only lay my hand?" 
"They speak in riddles," you complain. 
Eddie shushes you. "'Don't act as though you didn't bring about this war, Dolly says, her voice harsh as tree bark. The Puppet draws ever closer, his wicked grin softened. A puppet once more. I did it for you, he says.'" 
You gasp so loudly it makes your throat burn. "He did not!" you whisper-shout.
Eddie chuckles, hand dropping to your shoulder. "He didn't." 
"Keep reading!" 
"'Dolly refuses to acknowledge his pleading tenor. You did not, she shouts. You created this conflict to become what you wanted to become.
"'Someone you could love. The Puppet places a frozen hand over her cheek. She hits at his chest with the brunt of her palms, hands growing limp as he murmurs. Someone you could kiss.'" 
You miss the rest of his reading, eyes slamming shut as if you'd been stuck. You catch small parts. An attempted reunion, a sword tipped in biting silver from the coldest recess of the moon. A short fight, a retreat. 
"Are you sleeping?" Eddie whispers. 
You swallow. "Almost," you whisper back. 
Eddie tosses the paperback onto his desk and pulls the covers over your shoulders and curls toward you. "You should get some rest, sweetheart. It's been a long day."
You nod and turn to him, refusing to open your eyes. "Goodnight," you say, rubbing your cheek against the brushed cotton of his pillowcase. 
"Goodnight."
Long minutes of silence. You can feel his warmth beside you like a heating pad under the sheets. You know his hand lies an inch away, if that, his fingers lax. You could stroke the length of his pinky with yours. 
As if he knows, as if he can read your mind, a fingertip reaches out to tap yours. "Are you okay?" he asks. 
You open one tired eye and lift your face enough to open the other. He looks beautiful. Hair half-dried and flat to his cheek. You reach out to push it from his face slowly. If you were any braver you'd tuck it behind his ear, scratch his scalp lightly with your nails. 
"Is it your arm?" he asks. 
You drop your hand. "'M just thinking." 
"I can't help with that," he jokes, turning his gaze to the ceiling. 
You laugh under your breath but even to yourself it sounds odd. 
"Do you think you'd ever kiss me?" you utter eventually. 
He doesn't answer for a while. Your heart races fast enough that it's all you can hear, like the wind rushing in your ears. 
"Is that what you want?" 
"I want my first kiss to be a good one." 
"And you think it would be, with me?" 
"You said to keep it for someone I actually like." 
He takes your wrist into a kind hand. Calluses slide over your skin. "I meant someone you have the hots for, babe."
Dangerous territory. Wary to admit anything else, you try to take his rejection with grace. "It's okay if you don't want to. Was just… wondering," you murmur. 
He strokes your wrist. "I'll kiss you if you want me to." 
"No, I-" You laugh, all nerves and too much blood. "I don't want a pity kiss, Eddie." 
"Who said anything about pity?" he says, voice quiet as yours had been and harbouring much less panic. 
He pulls your arm like he's encouraging you toward him and you hiss. His grip slackens. "Sorry, I should've-" 
"It aches, that's all," you say.
Understanding lightens his eyes. Honey melting into a woody brown. "Shit," he mutters, lowering his head. "I'm sorry." He presses his lips to your wrist in a small kiss. "If it's hurting you should've said."
The words come out hot. 
"It…" you drift off as he gives you another kiss. Another. 
Close-lipped, Eddie dots pecks down your arm until he reaches the crook of your elbow. He slows and stays. You take the initiative and drop your hand into his hair, stroking behind his ear like you wanted to, like you've wanted to for a while, and shiver as the tip of his nose ghosts against sensitive skin. 
He draws away, pulls up, his face much closer than you can remember it ever having been before. You try to breathe normally but the look on his face prompts breathlessness, his eyes steady, bordering impassive. His lips hint a soft bemusement. 
He raises his chin. "This okay?" 
"This," you repeat, fingers curling into his hair. 
Eddie moves in, bringing a hand to your face to guide you to one side. His lips bump into yours and you let your eyes close, overwhelmed by this new feeling. There's a tenderness to how he holds you still, worse when he pulls you in, his kiss hot and soft as water. 
He slides his fingertips under your sleeve, palm hot to the breadth of your upper arm. His grip tightens incrementally and you try not to pull his hair in response, your knee hitting his thighs as your body seeks him out. 
His lips part against yours and you both suck in a breath before he's kissing again. You try your best to follow his lead, though quickly find yourself a laughing mess as he wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you close. 
"What's funny?" he asks. 
You honestly don't know. It's a giddy feeling to be this close, more so when he smiles back and tries to start up another round of sweet kisses, his lips pressing to yours insistently. He caresses the length of your back until you sigh, your open mouth an invitation that he sinks into. 
You scrunch the hem of his shirt in your hand when he sucks on your top lip, nonplussed.
Eddie pulls away. Your eyes open in tandem. 
You're noticeably out of breath and he isn't unaffected, his chest rising and falling almost as quickly as yours. "So," he says, inhale a struggle though he tries to hide it, "how was that? A good one?" 
"I don't know. I don't have anything to compare it to." 
"No?" he asks, already leaning in for another. 
You weave your hand into his hair and he rubs his hand down your arm until your aching wrist throbs under his fingertips, callused by metal strings and somehow impossibly soft.
"I'm sorry about your arm," he murmurs. 
You hope your hum against his lips conveys your forgiveness. 
When you've been kissed to the point of dizziness you break it to hide in the space under his chin, breathing in his new smells, his skin, his hair. The remnants of soap; a sharp citrus, mandora awash in something heady.
He pushes his arm under your chest and wraps you up. You hug him back, languid in his hold as he starts to rub your back. Broad, sweeping lines. Your shirt pulls up and he smooths it back down. 
"Don't get ahead of yourself," you joke lightly, quickly chased by a big yawn. 
"If you're tired, you can sleep," he assures you. 
"It was a good kiss." 
"Tell me all about it in the morning, okay? Sleep, pretty girl." 
You're feeling more and more tired with each passing second. Fatigue hangs heavy and his wandering hands make it worse. 
"'Nother kiss in the morning?" you ask, burrowing your face into his shoulder. 
He takes a little while to answer, turning his lips down into your temple. "Y'always get what you want, don't you?" 
With Eddie? Just about. 
𓆩❤︎𓆪
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starrystevie · 5 months
Text
hurt/comfort | mentions of anxiety and trauma | crossposted to twitter
"what's that?" eddie murmurs into the quiet darkness of their bedroom.
dread piles into steve's stomach. he wants to tug his sleeve over his hands so eddie can't see the writing on his palm anymore. wants to hide the pen marks by holding onto his hips instead.
"it's nothing," he whispers back, attaching his lips to the underside of eddie's jaw. he knows his boyfriend melts at the kisses he puts there. knows it will distract him from asking any more prying questions.
the ink is smudged, hardly legible anymore after a day at work. between washing his hands and shuffling papers and rubbing subconsciously at his palm when that certain type of anxiety knots into his gut, the pen marks from earlier are halfway to disappearing until he starts it all over again the next morning.
steve can't help it. he thought that moving in with eddie, having his support, would make it easier to cope with it all. thought that having someone else to help hold him accountable was the answer.
yet here he is, writing a list on his hand every morning, just to help him remember simple things.
he turns on the coffee pot in the morning, makes a note of it on his palm, crosses it out when he turns the pot off and tells himself over and over that it's actually off and he's not imagining it.
he locks the door and writes "LOCKED" in all caps so he doesn't come home halfway through the day to check and make sure it's actually locked.
he brushes his teeth, he feeds the dog, he puts his wallet in his briefcase, he closes the refrigerator door after breakfast and writes reminder after reminder on his palm in sticky black ink.
it helps, really it does, when steve's mind starts to wander in a boring meeting and he gets that hot rush of guilt of forgetting something burning through his veins. he'll look at his hand under the table and scan over the notes, find what's looking for, and try to breathe.
he'll read it over and over, the crossed out "coffee pot" or the "wallet in bag" or the "fed duke", until he feels like it sinks in, blinking back into real time to focus.
it's some strange mix of anxiety and lack of control and head trauma, robin thinks.
steve can't talk to a lot of people about it, embarrassed that he can't remember doing simple fucking tasks, but robin gets it. gets him. robin lets him swing his legs into her lap and pulls his hand up to her face so she can inspect the notes from the day to piece them all together.
it was her idea in the first place to write on his hand. she had suggested paper first but that was too easy to lose especially if he couldn't remember setting it down. she traces over the ink and lets him vent about feeling like a failure or stupid or some type of broken, reminding him gently that none of them got out hawkins without scars.
but steve hasn't let eddie see that yet, too afraid of breaking whatever they've made together, too afraid of scaring him off with his cracked brain and clenched jaw. too afraid of being built so wrong that he'll look like a once shiny penny covered in rust-colored problems.
so he digs his fingers into his palm, nails slicing into flesh & ink, and presses his lips fiercely into eddie's jaw to stop him from spilling any secrets. lets his tongue sneak out as an apology for not showing him his jagged edges. lets his teeth bite against the words he wants to say.
"baby," eddie whispers, his gentle callused hands trailing over steve's arms to settle on his clenched fist. he shakes his head against eddie's chin, bites at his neck again, ignores the way the love of his fucking life is trying to peel his fingers open to see it. see him.
steve feels raw, a live wire, one second away from snapping into sparks of electricity. he shakes his hand free and curls it around the small of eddie's back, tugging him closer, hiding his shame.
"it's nothing," he repeats, voice shaky and rough against eddie's skin.
if he just slots his leg right, if he just presses into eddie right, if he just tips his head and rolls his hips and plays his cards right, he can avoid all of this all together. he can take eddie's mind away from the writing on his hand and convince them both everything is okay.
but it's not that easy, it never is, because there fingers wrapping around his wrist at an awkward angle to pull his hand back and heat flares up in his cheeks. eddie's going to see, going to ask, going to figure out that steve is broken beyond repair and it's all thanks to one too many blows to the head & one too many times of fucking up & one too many times of leaving the goddamn door unlocked.
"i just-" he bites out, trying and failing to pull his arm out from eddie's grasp. maybe some part of him wants to come clean and get the inevitable over and done with. "-they're just some notes okay?"
and now eddie's looking between him and his palm with those eyes that hold love and the pity that he hates, so he blinks away, jolts to get his arm free again. he doesn't want pity, he doesn't want puppy dog eyes, he doesn't want the reminder that he can't-
but then there's lips pressing oh so gently to the hand he rubbed raw earlier when he could have sworn he didn't triple check that he paid the water bill. there's the flutter of eyelashes against his fingertips as eddie trails kisses over the thing that makes him feel less than.
steve doesn't fight to pull his arm back anymore. his shoulders drop, his muscles relax, and that ball of dread in the pit of his stomach eases away into something that feels more like acceptance.
"that's smart," eddie mutters against his palm. "to help you remember?"
and just like that, it isn't secret anymore. just like that eddie's peeled back the layers of bravado and nonchalance and seen steve for the mess he is.
he kisses the notes like it's the easiest thing to do and maybe for eddie it is. maybe taking a piece of steve's hurt is what they found each other for. maybe eddie was made to understand every inch of steve from the inside out like the way a vine instinctually knows to follow the sun.
steve resettles his face in eddie's neck, nods and breathes him in so he has him deep in his lungs. "it was robin's idea."
"she's smart too, then." eddie hums and drops steve's hand gently, letting it wind back around him so he can tangle his in steve's hair. "does it help?"
"yep," steve mumbles.
"how have i never noticed you scribbling on your hand everyday?" eddie asks with his lips pressed into the crown of steve's head.
"i didn't want you to see. i'm pretty good at hiding."
he can feel when eddie takes in a deep breath. feel when his chest expands and collapses before whispering "start adding 'eddie loves me' on there."
steve shakes his head with a small grin, his heart beat slowing from an anxious jack-rabbiting speed to something more eddie paced. "i never need a reminder of that one."
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ed-mnsn · 1 year
Text
eddie taking you nice and slow in the back of his trailer. soft, gentle, thrusts, love poured into each one. he makes you feel so special. like you’re the only girl in the world.
you don’t think you deserve the way he treats you like a princess, but eddie’s so determined to make you understand how precious you are.
he holds your hand while he fucks you, ring clad fingers cool against your sweaty palms. he kisses your temple, rolls his hips into your aching cunt. you feel encompassed by his whole being, love and tenderness lit like an aura around you.
“my beautiful girl,” he’d whisper, smiling into your mouth. he kisses you with everything he has, love and adoration, slowly and gently because he belongs to you and only you.
you’re stomach churns, heavy and warm and pooling with desire for him. he reaches between your bodies to rub at your clit and you keen. you can’t help but repeat his name, begging, pleading, thanking.
his cock fills you so good, each thrust calculated to intensify your pleasure. your hands are in his hair and on his back, and gripping at his shoulders. arching your back, purring for him, dizzy with need.
“i love you- love you so much.” he drawls, kissing your neck. his fingers still toy with your clit and you know it won’t be long before you’re pushed over the edge.
his words turn you red, make your heart beat faster, fill your stomach with butterflies that you just can’t contain. you’re mumbling about how much you love him and how amazing he makes you feel. how you’re his forever and always.
he groans when you clench around him, telltale sign that you’re close.
“you’re close?” he purrs.
you nod frantically, whimpers rising from your throat.
“please, please, please.” you whisper, and he could never deny you of anything.
“want you to come for me, angel.” he says sweetly, hips ramming into your g-spot.
your vision whites out, and you cry, nails digging into his shoulders.
“that’s it, pretty girl,” he mumbles. “so good for me.”
he never stops talking you through it, telling you how good you feel around him, how beautiful you look coming on his cock.
you breathe harshly, holding him tightly against you as he works himself to his orgasm.
“eddie,” you whimper, and its devastating, what just the sound of your fucked out voice can do to him. his stomach coils and his hips stutter, balls pulled tight and about to spill his load.
“inside,” you whisper, needing it, needing him to fill you up.
“fuck,” he groans, spilling hotly into your cunt. it’s wet and warm, and you feel it spilling down your thighs as he fucks his come into you. but it’s somehow comforting, the two of you entangled together, mixing with each other.
he’s breathing into your neck, laying gentle kisses along your skin. he’s still fully seated inside you and you never want him to move. he pumps into you a few more times, and while overstimulating, it feels so right. you hold his hips against you, making him stay for just a bit longer.
“i love you eds,” you say to him.
he kisses you for real this time, sweaty curls falling into your face.
“i love you, always.” he responds.
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 11 months
Text
tomato faced
a/n: I told you guys I came up with an abundant amount of shy reader smut the other day
warnings: Steve Harrington x shy!reader, smut, fingering, dirty talk
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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Quite literally curled up in his lap, Steve’s fingers were buried so deep within you that the root of his palm nuzzled against the plump of your clit. With your flushed face smooched against the rapid pulse clear on his neck, you felt him chuckle beneath you, “you’re adorable,” not slowing down his digits pace one bit, drawing out even more embarrassingly lewd wet noises with every motion. 
“Stop it,” you whined, not wanting him to tease you any further than the cruel amount he already had been, as you clung to his t-shirt, wrinkling it with your heated grip. 
“No, you are,” he pestered on as your thighs shook, squeezing his strong forearm as he played with your sobbing cunt, “getting all tomato faced on me just because your pussy’s crying out for me. Don’t you hear that?” he purposely angled his fingers, enriching the reverberations of the sloppy result of your desire, “hear how much she wants me, huh? Can’t even imagine what colour you’ll turn once I’m finally balls deep in you… purple maybe?”
“You’re not being funny,” you smiled shyly, thankful that he couldn’t see it. 
“Oh yeah? You sure about that?” his warm laughter vibrated in his chest as he rocked his fingers more vigorously inside of you, making you croak out a needy moan, your face burying even deeper as your limps debated on whether or not they should cling onto him further or if they should just flail around his pistoling pace, “that’s what I thought,” he chuckled, pressing his lips against your hairline as your hands flexed mercilessly against the cotton of his shirt, “you sure you don’t wanna take that pretty little face out of hiding and peek down at how pretty you are for me?” he asked softly through his everlasting teasing air, not giving up as you managed a small shake of your head, “what if we just sit in front of the mirror together, huh? Give you a real good view of what it looks like when I get to stretch you out so fucking perfectly?”
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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daisies-daydreams · 6 months
Text
Focus (König x F!Reader)
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Pairing: König x F!Sergeant!Reader Category: Pure Smut (18+) Warnings: Swearing, Dom/sub, Inappropriate Work Relationships (König is your superior), Brat Taming, Unprotect P in V Sex (You Know the Drill), Vaginal Sex, Sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Spanking, Bondage, Cockwarming, Orgasm Control, Edging, Praise Kink, Mirror Sex, Full Nelson Position, Creampie Word Count: 2.9k+
A/N: I tried looking for this fic while I was updating my masterlist, but I could only find it on my AO3. :( I’m not sure if it got lost in the abyss or if I forgot to post it on here as well. Side note: König’s real name is Felix in this fic.
MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
Your chest rose and fell along with the movements of your arms. Your muscles burned as you raised and lowered the barbell, but you needed something to get your mind off of what happened earlier. You glanced up as a large shadow overcast you.
“Care to explain why you were such a terrible shot during the marksmanship test today?” your commanding officer, Colonel König, asked in a gruff, low voice.
Speak of the devil.
His beefy arms were crossed against his chest as he glared down at you with his piercing, blue eyes. You puffed out a breath as you placed the barbell on the wrack. \ You could hear his lead boot thudding against the ground as he waited for your reply.
“I was a little…distracted today,” you said as you briefly glanced into his eyes. König huffed out a laugh as he shook his head.
“Distractions cost lives in the field, Sergeant,” he reprimanded. You bite your lip as you puffed your chest out, slowly rising up from lying down on the weightlifting bench.
“Well, if you have anything that would help me focus, I’d love to hear it,” you said as you took the weights off the barbell. You could feel his eyes boring into your back as you swayed your hips side to side while putting the weights away. The corners of your lips curled up a bit as a large hand rested on your shoulder, squeezing it lightly as the fabric of his mask brushed against your neck.
“I have a training regiment in mind. A very…special one that would help. Especially for a brat like you,” he husked into your ear. You licked your lips as you turned, your ass just barely grazing over his covered crotch.
“And how soon should I start this regiment, Colonel?” you whisper in a lithe tone. König’s eyes narrowed as he pushed his hardening cock against the plush of your behind.
“As soon as possible,” he murmured.
---
The door to König’s room slammed with so much force you thought the door would fall off its hinges. His posture was rigid as he turned back to you.
“Take off your clothes. Now,” he commanded sternly as he unbuckled his belt. Your fingers deftly worked to peel your shirt and workout tights off of your body. The colonel scoffed when you remained in your workout bra and panties. He stepped forward, his pants loosely hanging over his rugged hips. “It seems you have more than just an issue with focus, Hase,” he rubbed his palm against the leather belt as he stepped forward. You shifted your thighs together as he loomed over you, his rough hands pushing you onto the bed.
“Turn around and bend over for me like a good little soldier,” König rasped. You turned and stuck your ass out as you bent over, your breasts pushing against the comforter you’ve grown so familiar with over the past few months. You heard the belt squeak in his tightened grip before he snatched your wrists in his hands. You could feel your pussy get even wetter as he tied the belt around your hands, securing it with a firm nod. His fingers traced down your hands and over your back, goosebumps rising in the wake of his surprisingly gentle touch.
“I’ve seen you slacking off, Sergeant,” he began. You heard the soft sound of his boots thudding against the hardwood floor as he shuffled behind you. You tried to stifle a gasp as he roughly grabbed your asscheeks and kneaded them. “Are you really that desperate for my cock?” König scolded before laying a sharp slap across your bum. You bit your lip as the pain stung against your plush skin. The colonel behind you groaned as he spread your cheeks apart, no doubt gazing at the small wet patch in the crotch of your panties.
“Judging by how soaked you’re getting, my assumptions are correct,” he chuckled mockingly. You gasped as he suddenly pulled you onto his lap. He was still fully clothed, yet you could feel his prominent, growing erection beneath his rough pants.
“But you’re going to have to earn it-earn having my big, fat cock stuffing that tight little cunt of yours,” König husked as he smoothed his hand over the sore spot on your behind. You resisted the urge to wiggle in his hold as he raised his hand. “By being obedient,” he said before slapping your ass again, letting his palm linger and pressing into the raw handprint. You whined and nodded.
“Y-Yes Colonel,” you moaned. König grunted as he squeezed your ass.
“Good girl. Now, count how many spankings I give you. If you mess up, I’ll start all over again. Am I clear?” he huffed.
“Yes sir,” you said. König groaned as he rubbed his hand up and down the globes of your butt.
“Gut,” he rasped in his native tongue before slamming his palm against your ass [Good]. You arched your back as your toes instantly curled.
“One!” you cried out. Another crossed your other cheek in a matter of seconds. “Two!” you yelped as your body lurched forward. Heat spreads from the top of your head to the tips of your toes with each slap against your ass, your pussy soaking the soft fabric of your underwear. Soon your ass is left alone, raw and sore from all of the spankings. Your hands strain against your back as your superior pushes your panties to the side again, his fingers now sliding against your wet slit. You shiver and clench your fists as he chuckles.
“Sensitive, are we?” König mused as he spread your folds apart with his thick digits. A small noise leaves your throat when you hear the sound of fabric tearing. You whip your head around to see part of your panties held snugly in his fist.
“There are consequences for disobeying, Hase,” he tsked [bunny]. The expression on your face drew an amused twinkle in his eye. “You thought the spankings were your punishment?” König hummed as the pads of his fingers circled around the ring of your entrance. He clicked his tongue and shook his head. “Nein-I’ll make sure it’s much more…effective,” he rumbled [No]. You whined when he drew long strokes up and down your slit, circling your swollen, sensitive clit every once in a while.
“O-Oh my God,” you squealed as he pinched your nub. You heard him chuckle behind you as his other hand massaged the back of your thigh.
“We’re going to do another exercise, hase,” your commander groaned [bunny]. Your lips parted as he slowly shoved two of his fingers into your entrance, letting them linger just inside the tight ring. “I want you to count every stroke of my fingers inside your pussy,” he husks, his hot breath fanning over your neck. You nod, your lip hurting from how hard you were biting it. You moaned loudly as he suddenly began to pump his fingers inside of you quickly.
“Uh, uhm-one two three four five six seven-” you tried to keep up with each stroke, your mind getting foggy with arousal.
“Speak louder!” he barked as he pressed his thumb down on your bundle of nerves.
“EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN-” you shouted, your voice dry and hoarse as he shoved his fingers deep inside your wet hole. Your voice stammered as you grew closer to your orgasm with each number, your muscles tightening as every fiber in your being screamed for release. And suddenly…it stopped. Your eyes shot open as you felt him yank his digits from your pussy. The colonel sighed as he stared down at the slick on his fingers.
“What a shame: you missed fifteen,” he mused. You gritted your teeth as your nostrils flared. König huffed before picking you up like a little kitten. He set you down on the bed as he stripped his clothes. You gaped at the sight of his throbbing erection as it sprang free from the confines of his boxers. König chuckled as he watched you wiggle against the mattress for any form of friction.
“Such an impatient little thing,” he clicked his tongue. You yelped when he picked you up again. He spread his legs wide open as he sat on the edge of the bed. You caught a glance of your naked form in the full-length mirror in front of you. König sighed as he slowly sank you down on his member. You winced as just the head breached your entrance, spreading you wide open for the rest of his shaft to sheath inside of your pussy. Both of you groaned as he bottomed out, his plush balls resting against your slick labia.
“Guess I’m going to have to teach you some patience, too,” he hummed as he let your legs drape over his own. Your brows furrowed in disappointment when he simply lets his cock rest inside of your gummy walls.
“K-König,” you mewled as you wiggled your ass against the divots of his abs. The giant man inhaled deeply as he squeezed your hips.
“Stay still, soldier,” he growled. You bit the inside of your cheek as he kept your hips from rolling. The pressure inside you was boiling and rising to the surface as he made you warm his massive member. The slight sting of the stretch faded though until you found your walls relaxing. They suddenly clench when you hear the soft hum of a vibrator. Before you have time to react, you feel the tip of the toy kiss against your clit. König smirked as he leaned his head down.
“You see that, Hase? See how much my thick cock bulges inside of you?” König husked into your ear [bunny]. You whimper as he pushes the vibrator deeper against your clit, your bundle of nerves puffy and throbbing from how much he’s been teasing you. You feel his other hand come up and grip your jaw, forcing you to look into the mirror. You shudder as you stare at the reflection of his girth stuffing your tight, dripping cunt.
“Answer me when I’m speaking to you, Sergeant,” your commanding officer rumbled as he squeezed your cheeks mockingly. You swallowed thickly, throat tight and mind clouded with an intoxicating pleasure.
“Y-Yes sir. I see it,” you breathed out. You whimpered when he pulled the vibrator away from your aching cunt. A high-pitched squeal escaped from your bitten lips as he laid a slap against the top of your pussy.
“Tell me exactly what you see, Sergeant (L/N),” the Austrian groaned as his hands rested on the top of your thighs, his long fingers drumming over your goose-bump ridden skin. Every stroke and dip of his digits sparked a fire that danced across every nerve in your body.
“I-I can see your cock inside of me,” you mewled. König hummed and traced his fingers against the inside of your thighs.
“What else?” he purred, his teeth raking down your pulse as his hands danced up your sides. You squeezed your legs over his muscular thighs. He groaned into your ear as he took your hard nipples between his calloused fingers.
“I-I see you playing with my tits,” you whined. You squealed when the Colonel pinched your nipples as he “tsked” you.
“Oh Sergeant, I know you can do better than that. You’re such a clever girl,” he whispered, voice husky and drenched with lust. “Tell me everything now-what you see, hear, smell…” You whined as he puckered his lips onto your neck, sucking on it harshly while his cock twitched inside of your gummy walls. “Feel,” he murmured.
“I-I’m spread wide open in front of a mirror,” you begin. König grunts as he trails a line of fresh hickeys down your sweat-covered skin. You take a deep breath. “My thighs are spread over yours, your p-plump balls resting just below the place where our sexes are snug,” you keen as he licks a bold stripe over the bruises, his fingers massaging your tender areola. “I can feel the head of your cock kiss my cervix like you want to breed me,” you continued. You moan when he suddenly bucks his hips upwards into your heat.
“Yes,” he groans as he shallowly thrusts into you. “Keep going,” he commands with a light slap to your upper thigh. You bite your lip as you gaze at the lewd scene in front of you.
“I-I can feel every vein of your thick cock drag against my plush walls-oh!” you moan as he tugs on your nipples again. The noise he makes is akin to a purr as he bucks up into your core, eliciting a solo of moans from your plump lips.
“That’s right. Good girl. Good fucking girl,” König growled, his hands now falling to your hips as he squeezes them roughly. Your head falls back against his shoulder before he pulls your face back up.
“Keep looking,” he hissed, voice wavering as his thrusts became faster. You panted and moaned, your voice reverberating across his bedroom walls. You tried to bounce on his cock to match the pace of his thrusts, but your thighs wouldn’t stop shaking. You gasped when you felt your colonel wrap his arms beneath your knees and lifted you up, only to slam you back down on his meaty rod.
“Mmm, such a pretty, tight cunt,” he moaned as his hips snapped up, eyes glued to the piece of glass in front of you. “And it’s all mein,” König snarled. Your head was reeling as he slammed his cock into you repeatedly. You flushed at the sight of your cream coating his long shaft, dripping down and lathering his twitching ballsac. You keened loudly as he bit into your shoulder.
“Say it, say you’re mine,” he groaned, voice commanding and hungry. You bit your lip as you tried to steady your mind.
“I-I’m yours…Felix,” you said with a shaky breath. The growl from his throat was damn near feral when his real name fell from your lips. You were rewarded with him speeding up his thrusts, his arms curling and tightening around your thighs.
“Du gerhöst mir...mir allein!” König roared as his cock plunged deep into your core [You are mine…and mine alone]. Your vision grew blurry as you watched the way your breasts bounced and jiggled. Your muscles were tightening into an inescapable knot as you sped towards your orgasm. “Look in the mirror when you cum around my cock, liebling,” he grunted. You blinked through the veil of tears that coated your eyes as your body stiffened.
“Yes, that’s it-let go for me,” your commander panted as he shoved his dick against your womb. You yelled as the cord inside of you snapped into a million tiny pieces, your body shaking with ecstasy. König’s thrusts grew more sloppy as your walls gripped at his shaft. His chest rumbled as you cried out, pure pleasure surging through your veins.
“Ahhh yes, feels so good when your warm cunt hugs my cock like this,” König praised as he kissed your neck. You moaned with each of his thrusts as the waves of your orgasm continued to rock through you.
“K-König,” you slurred in a high-pitched whine, his thrusts getting sloppier with each one. His balls tightened below you as his breathing became ragged.
“Gonna fill this pussy up, make it leak with my fucking cum,” he grunted with a strained voice. You shivered as pleasure rippled down your spine and straight into your core as your second orgasm crept up on you.
“Yes, oh Gott yes!” König roared as he suddenly snapped his hips forward [Oh God]. His arms clenched around your legs so tightly as his cock throbbed inside of your well-fucked cunt. “Yes…” he panted as he filled you to the brim with his warm, thick cum. You shook with ecstacy beneath him as you felt his seed start to dribble from between the seam where your sexes were joined.
“Such a good little soldier,” König muttered as he kissed your cheek. You turned your head so he could capture your lips in a proper kiss. You keened into his mouth as he lowered you into his lap. You sighed, letting his dick soften inside of your tight walls. Just as you went to pull yourself off of him, his hands instantly flew to your hips.
“Nein, I want my cock to stay inside of you for a little bit longer,” he whispered as he gently massaged the bruises over your hips [No]. You shivered as you felt some more cum leak onto the edge of the mattress as he kissed along your neck. You closed your eyes as your head fell back against his shoulder.
“I think you’ve learned your lesson…for now,” König purred softly as he gave one final peck to your temple. Your mind was now drifting further away as he gently slipped your back onto the mattress. Your throat tightened when he shoved his cum back inside of your tender hole with his two thick fingers.
“Now, listen carefully: you’re going to get dressed and cleaned up…and then you’re going to retake that test while my cum stays inside of that tight, little cunt of yours,” his lips danced over the shell of your ear. “Do you understand, Sergeant?” he asked. You shivered and nodded.
“Yes, sir,” you panted. König cracked a grin before gently patting your cheek.
“Gut kleiner Hase,” he murmured [good little bunny].
----
Thank you for reading! ❤️
Edit: Thank you so much @dangern00dl3 for correcting my German!
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Daily Ficlet
I'm challenging myself to write a little ficlet every day, using the prompts from this list. Today's prompt is coffee smell.
-
Eddie wakes to the smell of coffee.
That's not unusual for him. Wayne drinks coffee like water, has it both to wake up and go to bed. It's just that, usually, the coffee smell is fainter, having to make its way from the kitchen and through the door to his bedroom.
Did he leave the door open last night? That'd have been a bad idea, given what Steve and he got up to-
Oh. Oh shit! Steve and he-
Eddie cracks his eyes open finally. He's where he usually is when he wakes up; on the side of the bed closest to the door, on his stomach, arm hanging off the bed and face turned towards the door. The door, which is open, and Eddie knows he closed it because he remembers Steve pinning him against it as soon as Eddie had turned back around. Steve crowding into his space, one hand braced on the door beside Eddie's head, the other curling possessively on Eddie's hip. Steve dipping his head to nibble at his shoulder, before kissing and nibbling his way up Eddie's neck, jaw line, capturing Eddie's bottom lip between his teeth before kissing him properly, like Eddie has been wanting him to do since- well, forever probably.
He does a quick scan of the room, but Steve's shirt isn't on the floor by the door where Eddie had ripped it off him. And that. It's fine. Eddie's used to not getting the guy at the end of the story. There were no expectations, they didn't- well, there were promises whispered, but that's just. It's just the kind of words that slip out when wrapped up in the heat of the moment, yeah?
("God, you're so beautiful, Stevie. Beautiful and perfect for me." "Yes, yes, perfect for you. Wanna be. Wanna be perfect for you. Just you. Yours." "Mine. Just mine. You're mine, and I'm yours." "Yes yes yes yes!")
Just words said in the dark of night. Even if Eddie wants them to be real now. Wants to be Steve's and wants Steve to be his. If he just lays here, he can pretend a bit more. He can pretend that Steve's still asleep on the other side of the bed. That the door is open for any other reason than Steve slipping out while Eddie slept.
His other arm, the one trapped beneath him, is starting to get pins and needles, though, so he has to move. He heaves a sigh and digs his elbow into the mattress, using it as leverage to roll onto his back and away from the edge of the bed and-
"You awake babe?"
Eddie doesn't yelp. He'll deny it happening to the end of his days, but he wasn't expecting to hear a voice. Wasn't expecting- "Stevie."
"That's me," Steve says with a laugh. Steve, who has, apparently this whole time, been sitting up on the other side of the bed, Eddie's well-loved copy of The Hobbit in his hands, his shirt tragically back on. He tosses it softly towards the foot of the bed before shifting to drape himself across Eddie, propping himself up with an elbow near Eddie's head. Steve's other hand comes up to brush the hair from Eddie's face before trailing down his neck, across his shoulder, and down his whole arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake, before Steve tangles their fingers together and gives Eddie's hand a light squeeze that he reciprocates on instinct. It's the right thing to do, Eddie decides, because the smile the spreads across Steve's face is soft and so fond before disappearing from view because Steve lowers himself down to press sweet and gentle kisses to Eddie's lips, once, twice, thrice, before peppering kisses to every inch of Eddie's face he can. Eddie is expecting morning breath, but Steve smells of coffee.
A smile spreads across Eddie's own lips, and laughter follows, because this is so sweet, so fond, makes him feel so safe and loved that the joy Eddie feels has to break free from his body somehow. He chases Steve's mouth down again to kiss him deeper, licking into his mouth to chase the coffee taste. The kisses turn lazy and eventually Steve pulls back, a dopey smile on his face that Eddie is sure is also on his own face. "Good morning."
"Good morning indeed," Eddie says, his thumb rubbing softly against Steve's where they're still holding hands. "Why're you wearing your shirt?"
Steve gives a one shoulder shrug. "Didn't think Wayne would appreciate the view as much as you do."
Eddie blinks up at him. "Wayne's up?"
"He made the coffee that lured me from your bed," Steve says, and his tone is teasing but there's something in his eyes, in the way Eddie feels him tense just the slightest that makes Eddie think 'Oh!' again.
Eddie had been so sure early, that Steve would rather slink away before Eddie woke, but he thinks Steve has the fear of being kicked out now that he's awake. Of having overstayed his welcome, or pushed at a boundary he didn't know Eddie set. Can't have him thinking that. "Well, you're probably right, he wouldn't enjoy the view as much as I. You let me know if that ever changes. I'll not have an old man trying to steal my boyfriend."
That's the right thing to say, Eddie knows immediately. Steve settles completely against him in a way Eddie hadn't known was possible. It's not that Steve gets heavier as he lays across him more, but Eddie feels him press more into him somehow. Clutches tighter at their joined hands and leans back down to rubs his nose against Eddie's cheek. "Worry not, babe. There's only one Munson I want to call boyfriend."
And that. Well. How is Eddie supposed to not kiss Steve -his boyfriend- silly after that?
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crimsonbubble · 7 months
Note
I’m BEGGING you more reader being the barracks bunny for the shadow conpany, but this time reader acting all tough and bratty towards them but deep down she just wants their attention after they’ve been ignoring her and focusing more on their missions:(
brat tamer!graves??? brat tamer!shadows???
cw. nsfw, gn!reader, brat!reader, brat tamer!graves & shadows, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mandhandling, oral, masterbation, slight choking, dacryphilia, spanking, fingering, edging, overstimulation *not proofread, just pure horny
[IM SO HAPPY YALL ARE LOVING THE SHADOW COMPANY X READER STUFF SJSKSBSJ] special tags for @waltzthegenderfluidpan @smmy-winchster
MINORS DNI!!
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you're sitting by the shadows as they get their mission briefing except no one is trying to finger fuck you into oblivion
you know that their line of work isn't the easiest but they usually spend any and all moments of their free time with you
so when they're all getting ready for missions, they reduced you to an errand bunny
asking you to get things for them, drop things off for them to other people and only being rewarded with kisses to your cheek or forehead
going to bed cold and alone bc all of your fav shadows are out on field
once the mission is done and they're all back, you've resorted to minimal contact with all of them
doing the bare minimum, sneaking off after mumbling snarky remarks and giving them all the cold shoulder
it's only a few days into the cold shoulder treatment and all the shadows are getting more and more irritated as you deny their advances
a shadow finally speaks to their commander about it, who advised them to let him handle it
graves corners you when you're alone in the common room, his stare is stern yet gentle
there's no real need to ask what was wrong, graves knew what was wrong
without any thought, another snippy remark leaves your lips. you froze as soon as you processed the words that fell from your lips
as graves manhandled you over his lap, he all but ripped your shorts and underwear down your legs
not a second later and you feel a hard smack to your ass
it was just one after the other, leaving your cheeks red and sore with handprints
you were shaking in graves' lap, tears soaking into the couch cushions
feeling something cold drip onto your aching hole before fingers were pushed into you, immediately curling them up against your sweet spot
you tried to squirm away, the harsh and quick pace he set was overwhelming
graves simply held your hips down, continuing his onslaught on your slicked hole
a few shadows decided to stay and watch the show, watching how easily their commander gets reactions out of you
there's too many sensations you're feeling, it's all muddling together
just as quickly as the pleasure built, graves had pulled away
the fullness of his fingers leaving you empty and aching
the process repeats for god knows how long, the hours started blending together
bringing you to the edge of sweet sweet relief before all of it was snatched from under you
it left you squirming, needy and sore in your commander's lap, pleas falling on deaf ears
there's noises of shifting around you but you don't have the strength to look
before you know it, you're being placed on the now empty coffee table
your shirt is tugged off of you, hands immediately honing in on fondling and groping your chest
your pushed up on the table, your head hanging off the edge
you peer up at the shadow in front of you, eyeing the way their cock twitches mere inches away from your face
they tap their tip against your cheeks before slipping through your lips, their hand on your neck as they used your mouth
your hands were led to more cocks, their hands encasing yours and they fuck into your fist
graves' hand is still between your legs, rubbing against your sweet spot
with a quick whistle, graves moves, his position filled by another shadow
it took mere seconds for the emptiness to be filled again, filled with a thick and heavy cock
each thrust made you gag and sputter around the cock in your mouth
the ones fucking your hands, encasing yours with theirs, squeezing your hand around them tighter
they fucked into your fist even faster, nearing their release as they watched you choke around the cock in your mouth. their release coated your hands in a sticky white gloss
the shadow fucking your mouth, held your head up as he spilled in your mouth
swallowing without a second thought and sticking your tongue out like you always do
the shadow that's situated between your legs, uses the moment to his advantage
holding your thighs up and apart as he spears his cock into you, he twitched twice before painting your walls white
as you tried to process what just happened you were moved from the table to rest against someone's chest
you felt it before you saw it, two cocks pressed against your hole
sandwiched between two of the biggest shadows to take both of their cocks at the same time
one quickly slipped in, holding your hips down as the other shadow slipped in beside him
the stretch burned, making you shiver and arch your back
they moved in opposing rhythms, never leaving you empty
each moan was breathier and whinier than the last
you could barely keep your eyes focused long enough to see the shadows that still have yet to have their turn are hungrily stroking themselves
you're beyond fucked out by the end of the night, clinging onto whoever is in front of you
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tightjeansjavi · 20 days
Text
The Rite of Movement | drabble
“Your Pussy is God”
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A/N: happy international women’s day to you, my baby loves! Cooked y’all up something real good on this special day celebrating all women 💗 pornstar!joel is here to worship each and every one of you ;) big thank you to my baby love bug @strang3lov3 for this moodboard and @itsokbbygrl for doing a quick beta read!
~word count: 655~
Summary: your pussy is god, baby love
Pairing | pornstar!joel x pornstar!female reader
Warnings: none, fluff, smut, domestic intimacy, established relationship, pussy eating, unprotected piv, body worship, pussy drunk Joel, filthy talk, language, soft vibes!, Joel is in his 40’s reader is in her 30’s, readers nickname is baby love, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!
series masterlist
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You feel the gentle scrape of his beard along your cheek bringing you back down to reality, ears ringing, breaths mingling as he presses a kiss to your lips, lashes fluttered, chests rising and falling in sync.
Sweat slicked, sticky skin adhered together like glue. He pulses inside of you, cock dully throbbing around your fluttering cunt.
There are no cameras this time. Just you and Joel in the shared comfort of the early morning where the sun has barely begun to rise along the horizon. The mourning dove coos outside of the open window, soft cream colored curtains billow in a cool breeze that kisses your exposed skin.
He lets out a grunt, low and deep as he slowly eases his cock from between your thighs. One strong arm loops around your waist, hugging you to him as his lips brush across your jaw. His movements are languid, no rush behind them as he trails his lips further, and further.
He kisses the column of your neck, tongue dragging across your pulse point, licking up your salt and perspiration, tasting the familiar tang on his tongue. He groans, nose pressing, dragging downwards.
“What’re you doing, baby?” You hum, lashes still fluttered shut as your hand slides upwards, resting along the back of his head and carding your fingers through his sweat stained curls.
“Tastin’ you, baby love.” He rasps, dragging his lips further to kiss the edge of your shoulder, between your breasts, tongue dragging down your sternum, stopping just above your belly button.
“Mmm.” You sigh contentedly, “continue.”
His lips curve upwards against your skin, grinning like a devil at your comment for him to continue. “Can I clean up the mess between your thighs? Let you ride my tongue out before the sun rises?” He pressed an open mouthed kiss against your hip, nibbling gently eliciting a giggle from you.
“Mhmmm. I would love that, baby. Clean up the mess that we made.” You correct him softly, peeking an eye open to watch him.
“You’re so pretty.” He coos, letting his freehand gently grasp your thigh and press it open as he sinks down further. “So pretty in this light, so soft, all mine.” He babbles, mind fuzzy and pussy drunk.
Your hips shift, making room to accommodate him comfortably. He wraps one arm around your stomach, gently pulling you down closer to his mouth while his freehand teases through your folds, spreading your inner lips open, messy and sticky with yours and his cum.
“Such a pretty little messy pussy, baby love.” He hums, smacking his lips together in anticipation because there isn’t a moment in the day where he’s not thinking of tasting you on his tongue. It’s his fuel, his energy, his life source—
“I love it when you talk about my pussy, Joel. Makes me feel so good inside that you think she’s so pretty.” You open both of your eyes, meeting his gaze just as he drags his tongue from your weeping hole, through your folds, and up to your clit, his eyes never leave yours. He gathers up your combined releases on his tongue, swallowing it down like he was quenched with thirst.
“Mmm. That’s what you deserve, baby love. To feel good, to feel loved, worshipped, admired, fuck—ain’t nothin’ I wouldn’t do to make you feel my love.” He makes your heart and pussy clench, and he doesn’t even have to try.
“Dude.” You giggle. “Who the fuck is cutting onions? How can you go from filthy to romantic in—oh” you sigh softly, head falling back against the roused pillows as his tongue flicks back and forth across your clit, lips wrapping around the nub, sucking gently with the intent to make you come undone all over again.
“Like this.” He chuckles, continuing his ministrations and taking you apart with his tongue, coaxing you to give him just a little bit more of his favorite meal.
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bumblehoneybee · 1 month
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A Touch of the Sun
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Touch was not something freely given in the dark depths of the factory. Enemies and allies easily blended together, and the risk of trying to see which was which could cost you everything, so no risks were taken. Touch could kill, if you weren’t careful. So most of those that remained didn’t touch.
You suppose it should’ve been an obvious conclusion, not something that should’ve surprised you when you finally realized the extent of loneliness that plagued this place. But you often had other things to worry about, more immediate concerns that left little to no time to truly process and take in the world you’ve been engulfed by.
It wasn’t until you had Poppy’s tight curls slipping through your fingers, bits of debris and dirt caught in the shiny red now deposited into your hand, that things became more clear. You were careful, touch feather light, yet with every careful brush of her hair, the little doll’s body started to crumble in on itself.
She didn’t need to speak; you were sure she couldn’t do it right now even if she wanted to. You silently continued your ministrations as she trembled with soft sobs. And when you were done, when she turned into your retracting hand, her own gripping tight around your fingers, you let her have her moment. Let her have the touch of warm skin, calloused and dirty, but alive and real and certain.
Touch was like a promise to her. And you weren’t inclined to break it, even after the heavy and disorienting crash of the train. As peeved as you were, Poppy’s desperation and cute hugging of your hand to her side easily swayed you.
Kissy was different, somewhat. You knew she was lonely too, even without Poppy telling you. The way she walked, while loose and without hard point, was sluggish and slow. The way she stared off into nothing, through you, through anything in her way, spoke loudly in her own silence.
And the touch between you two came as a large, fuzzy pink paw on your face at random. Kissy found amusement in your initial surprise and unawares whenever she popped her hand to your face. As time passed, and you grew used to such affections, you still feigned the panicked unsureness of being suddenly blinded, if only to hear Poppy’s laugh and see Kissy’s own demeanor soften and relax into a satisfied mirth.
You three became at ease with one another. Moments of peace shared moments of touch, curious exploration of something lost for decades, or so it felt for you, though it was reality for the others.
Kissy found enjoyment in picking you up, arms wrapped tight around your torso as the rest of you dangled not unlike a fat cat in a determined toddler’s hug. Poppy discovered the tranquility of grooming one another, brushing hair and braiding what could be twisted together. Abandoned child’s makeup, nail polishes, and even some accessories still capable of their duties were decorated upon your visage by the careful porcelain hand of the elated Poppy.
By the time your fourth joined the team, you three were entangled and interwoven in little touches and affections. And thus, Dogday always had an interesting show to watch.
He wasn’t a stranger to your touch. After all, you pried him from the wall he was strung up against, and carried him through the tiny tunnels until you could bring him to your safe spot. And once situated with the elated Poppy and Kissy, Dogday still was fretted upon something fierce by you, flits of hands and cloths to try and help clean him, ease his pain, ease your own worry that you weren’t enough (something so untrue that he scoffed at the mere idea).
No, Dogday knew your gentle touch, and coveted it after so long without. But what you shared with the others, that was different.
You brushed Poppy’s hair whenever she asked, careful not to tug or yank at any tangles or caught debris. You held her in your palms, let her sit on your knees and paint your face in colors as she talked about hopes of the future, of a place outside of this one. You knocked your knuckle to her cheek whenever she began to spiral into worries. She lied on your stomach when you slept some nights, uncaring of the gentle rise and fall of your breathing.
It made Dogday want similar, especially when Kissy picked you up one day and you just laughed. Such a sound in the factory felt unreal, but it sounded divine. Ethereal. You were truly an angel, one of silly faces made into plush palms and unstaggering drive.
Dogday pushed up onto his arms. Lacking in legs made it easier to move this way, dragging himself across the floor to where Kissy was bapping her hands to your face as fast as light. Your sputtering and muffled laughter were balms to the dull aches that resonated his tired bones, all put to rest when he finally knocked your waving arm aside and collapsed into your lap.
You jolted under the weight of his body, but you didn’t curl away. You merely laughed more, your gentle hands combing through the matted fur atop his head without care. Poppy said something from somewhere, and you called back your answer, but Dogday didn’t hear much of it.
He felt like he was lying in the sun, covered in a gentle warmth that embraced his body and eased his pains into a perfect numbness. He could feel your heart beat against his cheek, strong enough to reach him even when rested on your thigh.
You were so warm, radiating it. And your nails began to run along his scalp, then down his neck, to between his shoulders. He wasn’t a cat, but he could’ve purred for you if you had asked. It was perfect, it was peace, and it was hope.
The end would come to the horrible chapter, and in the epilogue, maybe he could lie and feel the touch of the sun forever longer.
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saylorsaysstop · 2 months
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Sleep Habits | Dick Grayson
↪ Masterlist (Jason) | Masterlist (Dick)
pairing: Dick Grayson x female!reader
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Dick felt the movement of the bed. The toss and turn of your body beside his. The throwing of the blankets before scattering to pull them back over your body. Insomnia was a real thing and it was something you fought more than you’d like to admit. 
Your boyfriend lays there with his hands crossed behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. The sheets nestled at his waist, he was practically a human heater. Waves of warmth radiated off his skin.
You didn’t bother rolling back over to face him. You knew he had a long night of patrolling and he needed his sleep. You just didn’t realize that he was awake with you until you felt a hand reach under the sheets and grab your hip, his thumb gently grazing the skin.
“Hey,” Dick says into the darkness of the bedroom. “Can’t sleep?”
“Nope.” You respond with an aggravated huff.
Dick smiles to himself and looks over to see you rolling onto your back. Crossing your arms over your chest in defeat, you both look up at the ceiling together. 
“Did you have caffeine again before bed?” Dick questions, knowing sometimes you liked a warm cup of tea before bed. 
“No.” 
“How about a little exercise?”
“Did that too before I showered.” 
Dick thinks for a moment. 
“What can I do?”
You turn your head to look at him. Even in the darkness of the bedroom, you can see the concern lacing his beautiful features. Blue eyes pinpointed on you, the gentle rubbing of his hand over your hip almost enough to send you into a trance. Sighing, you move closer to the source of heat and nuzzle your chin against his chest. 
“Knock me out.”
Dick raises an eyebrow. You don’t need light in the bedroom to know he did so. 
“Excuse me? Absolutely not.”
“Whyyyy?” You whine. “At least it’ll put me out of my misery to hopefully get a few hours in.” 
Dick laughs quietly, the rumble of his chest sending warmth throughout your body. He curls his arm around you and drags you closer. “No, we’re doing this the natural way.” In one quick movement, he hoists you on top of him. 
“You’re so hot.” You grimace, but can’t stop yourself from snaking your arms around his body and curling your leg around his. 
“How adorable of you to notice.” Dick picks at the hem of your t-shirt and lifts it over your head, leaving you bare against his chest minus your sleep shorts. If he had it his way, those would be confiscated too. 
“What are you doing?” You hiss, ignoring his ego. 
Dick’s fingertips dance down the column of your spine. You jerk under his touch, the light touches of his calloused fingers tickling you. 
“Just close your eyes and take some deep breaths,” Dick instructs. You quiet down and do as he says, matching your breathing to the strokes of his digits across your skin. 
“That’s my girl…” Dick praises you lightly, kissing the crown of your head and inhaling the sweet scent of your shampoo. He continues his gentle caresses up and down your back, scratching over your shoulder blades, mixing between light and rougher touches. He palms your muscles, uncovering a few knots you didn’t even know you had. 
“You… Are… Amazing…” you moan between strokes of his hands, drool threatening to slip from the corner of your mouth as he massages generously. 
“Anything to relax you. I know you struggle with sleep sometimes. It’s the least I can do.” 
You smile, an emotion Dick can physically feel against his chest. He causes his lips to curve into one of his very own. He doesn’t stop talking to you, telling you how much he adores you, and the funny encounters he faced while out on patrol. He tells you all sorts of things until he’s met with a soft snore coming from your mouth. 
Dick grins, his heart a steady rhythm against your ears as he tightens his hold on you as he too discovers plentiful sleep.
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abibliophobiaa · 10 months
Note
fluff and/or smut request based on the prompt “My God, you're fun to kiss.”
Eddie preferred but if Steve inspires you more for this that's okay too!
ily💖
eddie munson x afab!reader. 18+.
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It starts as friends.
Acquaintances, really. People who pass each other in the hall. Glances as you go, simple pleasantries, a wave if you’re lucky.
But fate steps in. And soon it’s a joint project, it’s trying to care for an egg together, to make sure it doesn’t break, gentleness foreign to both of you. It’s handing off your pretend child at the end of an afternoon—it’s joint custody over an eventual grade.
Soon, it’s gentle brushes of flesh in science class. It’s an accidental touch after almost dropping a pipette, a borrowed pencil, a shared eraser. Awkward encounters become heated glances. They become chemical interactions like the science projects you share with Eddie Munson.
Bright, vibrant, and potent.
You think it’s a joke when you’re paired in English class. Some sort of cosmic arrangement in the stars, a joke from the gods, what have you. Because of all the people you could act out Romeo and Juliet with, Eddie Munson is the last one on your list.
He’s brash and unruly. He’s disorganized and frenetic. He’s…well, he’s charismatic and alluring. Infuriating and compelling. Intriguing and impossible. Handsome and absolutely grotesque. Charming and…
Well. That’s the problem, really. The more the stars align, the more you find you like him. The more you find yourself enraptured by the boy with curly hair and a dimpled smile.
So it’s almost no surprise when you find yourself seated on a bench in the middle of spring, surrounded by dappled light and looming trees, books stretched out in front of you, practicing your lines. Only Eddie’s distracted. Has been for a bit. Since you arrived, really.
“Is there something on my face?” Your words are short. Staccato. Clipped. Brusque, without a real reason for them being so.
“Er—no.”
And that’s that. These weeks, these opportune moments—they mean nothing. Fleeting gazes, jovial banter, and brief looks? Those don’t make up a relationship. You know this. Yet it stings all the same. Sinks deep in your gut.
Or so you think.
The next time you meet in the woods, Eddie’s a live wire. Fingers tapping a pen on his notebook, brushing your cheek, curling around your jaw. He’s staring at you fondly. Like you’re the only girl in the world; like you’re his. And you would be—if he’d only asked you.
It’s on that day, as the sun sets and the sky glows orange, he leans down and kisses you the first time.
A gentle brush of his lips over yours as you sit on top of that wooden table. His knees press to the bench, your backside on the tabletop, his ringed fingers around your hips.
He kisses you like you’re precious—a jewel to be cherished, bright and twinkly, rare and his. And you find you like that; languish in it.
You get a B+ in O’Donnell’s class and the woods become your haven that next week. A place where you can run to him, your fingers in his hair, his arms around your waist. Whispers of hate and love, of frustration and adoration, of ‘will they’ and ‘won’t they.’
There’s a shlick of a zipper lowering. A hiss from the boy before you as you tug him forward by his belt loops, nosing along his throat, sucking purple hickeys into supple flesh.
He’s plush lips over your breast, whispers of, “My god, you’re fun to kiss.”
And you’re pliant. Heart a flutter as he slides your skirt up your thighs, parting you for him, brushing at your slit. He teases at your flesh. One finger, swirling in your slick, mouth swallowing your pitiful moans. And then another, sliding into you. Making you whimper and moan, gasps muffled against the column of his throat.
“Gonna be a good girl for me?” He asks, brushing his mouth over your ear.
Smirks into your skin when you tremble, thighs spreading wider, welcoming the boy as he prods at your center, groans when you whimper into his chest at the brush of his fullness against your hole.
“Y-yeah, Eds.”
“What do you want, baby? Need your words.”
Another brush. A nudge. A slight pressure where you want him most, but it has your toes curling, fingers tightening around his leather jacket, gripping fast to curls, teeth clenching around his earlobe.
“Need you to fuck me,” you manage.
“Yeah, baby?” He’s smirking. Dimples and cockiness, fingers curling around his base, pressing his head against your center. Collecting your slick and pushing in slightly. Enough to have you quivering, enough to have you begging for more. “Like this?”
And he’s sliding in. Inch by blessed inch, slowly and painstakingly so, until you’re a gasping, writhing, pleading mess. Tears prick your eyes, fingers in his hair, mouth against his.
“You like me,” he rasps.
Not a question.
Not at all.
A statement. Simple, just like breathing. Just like the way he slides in and out of you—like he’s always done so, like it’s what he’s always been made to, like he’s been doing so all along. 
“I do,” you gasp out, shuddering around him, curling your thighs around him, dragging him closer. You need him closer. “I like you, Eddie Munson.”
“Go out with me.” A brush of his lips over your heart, hips rolling against yours, drawing out your pleasure.
You hate him, you like him, you might even love him.
“I will,” you whimper, pulling him tighter, burning brighter. “I will.”
And it’s one week later you walk down the halls hand in hand with Eddie Munson. Your health partner, lab partner, english partner. Stranger, acquaintance, friend.
Boyfriend.
Yours.
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