#got blurb
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Jon Snow and female reader sitting by the fire, each doing their own thing (sharpening weapons, reading letters, doing embroidery/sewing) just enjoying their company
Jon is definitely always in desperate need of some calm in his life. He has always been involved in fights, wars and the violence of this world seems to be chasing him all the time.
You are definitely the source of his calmness and relaxation. All the time actually. He can only relax when he's with you, like now, sitting by the fire and just enjoying each other's company. He is sharpening his sword while you are reading some letters, sometimes updating him on what the lords are reporting to you or him. It's also calming for him when you read out his letters to him.
Sometimes he glances over to you, seeing your face illuminated by the fire and he can't help himself but smile at the sight in front of him. Your eyes are following the lines on the letter and some of your hair is falling into your face. He slowly reaches out to you, brushing the strands away and letting his hand rest on your cheek then. "You're so beautiful, my love," he smiles and it gives you a warm feeling all over.
You look up at him, giving him a smile as well. His face is also painted a light shade of orange by the fire in the room. He looks good in every light. Even after battle, with blood on his face and dirt clinging to every part of his skin, he always manages to look like the most handsome person in the realm.
“I don’t know how there aren’t more marriage proposals arriving. All the ladies should be after you,” you answer, a grin on your face. Jon let’s put a soft laugh and shakes his head just slightly. He isn’t interested in anyone but you. And he could sit here for a hundred more years, listening to you read out letters to him and he would listen closely to every single one.
“Let’s hope you won’t read one of those out to me anytime soon. Now, I think you weren’t finished with this one,” he reminds you, pointing to the letter while he goes back to sharpening his sword. “But you can maybe keep your eyes open for a marriage proposal from me to you,” he says like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
But you’re sure the heat in your cheeks is not coming from the cozy warmth in the room then.
#fluffy fridays#jon snow x reader#jon snow#jon snow headcanons#jon snow imagine#jon snow blurb#jon snow fanfic#game of thrones#got blurb#got imagine#q
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One Eyed Beauties 🗡 | Beric Dondarrion blurb
Game of Thrones Masterlist
Characters & Pairings: Beric Dondarrion x reader (romantic)
Content warnings: profanity, fluff, mentions of war and injury, implied suggestive content | female!reader (no use of Y/n, she/her pronouns) | wc: 600
Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)
Premise: Beric Dondarrion was a man of many talents, including coming back from the dead. After years of being with the Brotherhodo without Banners, the once famed knight of Westeros met his match with a lady who bore quite the similarities to himself.
——————
*Clink* *clink*
A grunt followed by a chuckle rang out in the open, Beric sitting up after his back met the hard grass. “Well done, my Lady.”
The lady in question makes a *humph* sound, the crunch of the dirt beneath her boots echoing as she repositions her stance. “Getting slow, Ser Beric? Wouldn’t have thought you to be so easily distracted.”
Beric playfully rolls his eye, “And I wouldn't have thought you to play unfair.”
“Unfair?” She scoffs, watching him stand up. Her one eye meets his own, “I only did what you would’ve done.” The sun hits her face from within the tree line, illuminating the color of her only visible eye while highlighting the color of her red eyepatch covering her lost one.
God she was beautiful.
Strong, intelligent, not afraid to speak her mind and a leader among people. A woman who stepped up despite all against her and fight for what was right. Loyal beyond most men.
How ironic for the Lord of Blackhaven to have met his second half bearing similar resemblance to his own. A one-eyed beauty herself, the former Lady of the Last Hearth was a dear friend to Ned Stark and a vessel house to Lords of Winterfell. During Robert’s Rebellion she fought with the North against the Mad King where she lost her left eye in combat.
Following the death of her father and older brother in the war and with no husband or heir besides herself, she took claim as the Lady of the last Hearth. Peace followed the end of the Targaryen dynasty until fourteen years after the rebellion when Robert died and the line of his succession was challenged prompting the execution of Ned Stark.
As bannerman for the North, she supported Rob Stark’s during the War of the Five Kings, narrowly escaping the Red Wedding resulting in the slaughter of her men. Going into hiding, she remained alone for nearly a year until she was discovered by the Brotherhood without Banners. Of course she knew who they were. After all, she was there when Ned Stark had created the group. Only there were more members and they followed the Lord of Light instead of the Old Gods of the Forest or Faith of the Seven.
Beric instantly took a liking to her. With her sharp tongue, hatred for Lannisters and thirst for revenge against the Freys and Boltons, Beric felt a connection to her. Plus they both shared the trait of having one eye and a talent with a sword.
They argued and bickered. Sometimes getting into duels for the mere boredom being cooped up in the woods—which was entertaining for the rest of the Brothers. Beric liked to get under her skin and she would joke, “better watch yourself, Ser Beric. One of these days I might kill you and Thoros won’t be there to resurrect your stubborn ass.”
Falling in love was bound to happen between the two. Well, everyone else expected it. Hell even the Hound got to the point he couldn’t deal with the sexual tension and called them out for it, “will you two just fuck already? Watching you two dance around each other like we’re at a fuckin’ ball is becoming suffocating.”
Clegane would come to regret saying that. Because the two made it a point to be obvious with their nightly activities. Purposely being loud to annoy the man and openly flirting any given chance they got. “Fuck me.”
At her assumption, the knight chuckles under his breath, “I guess you are right to think such. A clever move on your part.”
“Oh darling, you should know by now I’m the clever one between us.” Raising her sword, the woman tilts her head, “Are you ready?” Beric positions himself directly in front of her but gives some distance. Raising his own sword, a smirk paints his mouth.
“Come at me with your best, love,”
#beric dondarrion#beric dondarrion x reader#beric dondarrion imagines#Beric Dondarrion x you#Beric Dondarrion x y/n#Beric Dondarrion blurb#game of thrones imagine#game of thrones blurb#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones fanfic#game of thrones#got fanfic#got imagine#got blurb#got one-shot
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haiii gf i got a request🙈
older! eddie catching u make him lunch for work and he ends up railing u against the kitchen counter😵💫😵💫😵💫
hiiiii queen 🤭 you always come in with the older!eddie requests bless ur heart.
18+ please! fingering, unprotected piv (he pulls out), use of pet names, food mention obv
Your soft hums from the kitchen are what wake him, the sound floating down the hall and through the cracked-open door.
Eddie stirs, stretching his limbs with a low rumble of a groan, pressing his face into his pillow and inhaling. He can smell the sweetness of your shampoo on the pillow case, and he smiles softly to himself. Sunlight filters through the curtains, casting the room in a honeyed glow. He sits up with another groan, scratching at the soft pudge of his stomach absentmindedly before standing.
He can hear the radio now, your hums following the tune of whichever song comes on. He can picture you in his mind; hips swaying softly as you sip your morning coffee, probably your second cup by now, picking at your breakfast. He can picture your bed head, your sleepy eyes, the smile that graces your face when he comes to say good morning.
What he isn’t expecting when he trods down the hall is to see you making a meal, his lunchbox open beside you on the countertop. He watches quietly as you stack different ingredients to make a sandwich, taking care to make it look good. His hungry eyes rake over your figure, trailing up your legs, lingering on the way your tiny little shorts hug the meat of your ass. He was right, your hips are swaying to the music, tempting him to come right up behind you and squeeze a handful of you.
You reach into the cookie jar, picking out a few of your homemade cookies — snickerdoodles, his favorite — before placing them into a plastic baggie and tucking them into the lunchbox. He stays silent as you cut up strawberries, placing them in a container followed by blueberries, raspberries, blackberries. Giving him a well-rounded meal, wanting to keep him energized and cared for.
Something deep within Eddie stirs, and he finds himself simultaneously aroused and awestruck at the sweetness of your gesture. You’d never gone out of your way to make him lunch before, your relationship still in the early stages, and he feels his heart melt in his chest.
“Well don’t you look beautiful this morning,” he speaks finally, your head whipping around to face him.
“Oh! You startled me,” you laugh breathily, body relaxing entirely after realizing it’s only him.
He steps closer to you, stopping once his front is pressed to your back.
“What’re you doing in here, baby?” he asks, morning voice raspy and deep. It sends a shiver down your spine, shooting right to your core.
“Making you lunch, handsome,” you reply, turning your head to give him a kiss.
“Putting in all this work for little old me?” He looks around at the scattered ingredients, realizing you must’ve already gone to the store this morning to buy half of it.
“It’s hardly that much work,” you say simply. “And yes, we have to keep little old you fed.”
He snorts, letting his big arms wrap around your middle. His lips find their way to your neck, your head tilting immediately to allow him easier access. You whine before you can stop yourself, your hands gripping the edge of the countertop.
“You’re taking such good care of me,” Eddie purrs. “Think I need to take care of you.”
“Ed,” you breathe, squirming under his roaming hands. “You have to get ready for work.”
“It can wait,” he replies, lightly kicking your legs apart with his foot.
He lets one hand trail down your stomach, dipping beneath your shorts and your underwear in one swift motion. His calloused fingers tease your clit, the scruff on his face lightly scratching your skin as he continues to kiss your neck. You’re like putty in his hands, feeling your knees go weak the second he starts touching you. Your heart rate increases, breathing turning into pants and sighs as his thumb circles that sensitive bundle of nerves over and over.
The fabric of his pajama pants stiffens, his cock growing harder by the second. You can feel it pressing against your ass, and you wiggle your hips tantalizingly.
“Mmm,” he hums, a sound that reverberates against you. “Don’t tease, honey.”
He stops his steady pace on your clit, drawing his hand back so that he can utilize both of them to pull down your cotton shorts. Your panties fall to the floor with them, and you kick them aside swiftly as you step out of the garments. Eddie’s hand returns to its previous place, this time slipping two fingers carefully into your heat, wetness pooling around them.
“So wet, sweetheart,” he coos, smirking to himself when you let out a high pitched whine.
“Fuck, Ed,” you sigh, tipping your head back to rest against his shoulder. Your eyes close, reveling in his touch.
His free hand tugs at the waistband of his pants, slipping them down far enough to free his aching cock. The tip is red and leaking when he grabs it in his fist, stroking it a few times for good measure. You’re a moaning mess in front of him, gripping hard at the countertop as his fingers curl expertly inside of you.
“Feel good, baby?” he asks, nipping at your ear.
“Uh-huh,” you nod, incapable of forming any actual words.
“I’m gonna make you feel even better. That okay with you?” he continues, awaiting your permission.
You can hear his fist running over his cock, along with the groan he tries to stifle but fails. You can feel yourself clench around his fingers in anticipation. “Yes, please,” you choke out, wincing slightly when he removes his fingers.
You steady yourself, body practically vibrating with need as his tip rubs against your folds. Large hands grip your hips as he sinks into you, punching the air from your lungs. He starts with slow, agonizing thrusts. Letting the drag of his cock make you delirious as it slides inch by inch out of you before gliding back in.
He’s well-versed in this, had his years of practice, able to have your legs trembling for him in seconds. You’re finding it harder and harder to keep yourself upright as he picks up his pace, pounding into you from behind relentlessly. Your nails dig into the countertop, back arching as his name tumbles from your lips on a loop.
“Such a good girl, feel so good around me, baby,” Eddie grunts, his fingertips gripping harshly into your skin, keeping you in place as he drives into you even harder.
You’re seeing stars, positive you’ve never felt this good in your life. The radio still croons from the corner of the kitchen, the sound hazy and far-off in your ears. You couldn’t name the song playing if there was a gun to your head, Eddie quickly fucking every thought from your brain until all you can possibly think about is him.
The tension in the pit of your stomach builds and builds, a coil that’s ready to snap, and you’re suddenly certain that if you grasp the counter any harder your fingers will bleed.
His balls slap against your skin, cock gliding easily in and out of your dripping cunt. One hand trails up beneath your shirt, kneading your breasts and pinching the nipples between two fingers. You moan hotly, feeling your legs quiver, turning to jelly in real time.
“Why don’t you cum for me, honey?” he rasps into your ear, and it’s enough to send you entirely over the edge.
He curses as your walls squeeze him, clamping down as if your goal is to keep him inside forever. He manages a few more thrusts before he’s pulling out, cumming all over your ass. You can feel it dripping down, coating your skin in his sticky warmth.
Breathing heavy, you come back to reality slowly, dazed. The lunchbox sits packed in front of you, and you’re reminded that you’re on a time crunch. Eddie’s surely approaching the point of being late for work, and he watches you turn around to look at the clock.
“Let’s get cleaned up before I have to leave,” he says, pulling you against him to kiss you sweetly. “I’ll get the shower going.”
You tug on his arm when he tries to walk away, getting his attention once more.
“Did you really get turned on just because I was making you lunch?” you ask with a smirk.
He laughs. “What can I say? I’m a simple man.”
“Noted.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#older!eddie munson#older!eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson blurb#eddie munson fanfic#leah’s got mail 💌
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The sweetest remedy
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!pregnant!reader
summary: Joel has a bad day at work, but you know how to make him forget all about it
warnings: Joel is very much in love with his pregnant wife, a bunch of fluff, smut| oral sex (f receiving), Joel takes care of himself but you still swallow, fluffy smut, Joel being the pussy eating king that he is
"what's wrong?"
He'd taken one step into the house and you could already tell something was off
His forehead was creased with lines of annoyance and exhaustion, and by the way he was discarding his boots and jacket you knew he was pissed.
You were on the couch, your body turned towards the entrance, towards him, the tv muted behind you
"nothin'" he grumbled, setting his keys on the counter
"baby" you cooed, pouting softly "c'mere"
And of course, he did
Seeing you was all that made him survive these types of shitty days at work
Especially when he knew you'd be waiting for him in those flimsy summer dresses you loved to wear in the summer,
and especially since he'd gotten your belly to swell with the gift of a child.
You were five months in, and he fell in love with you all over again every time he looked at you
He had you straddling his lap the moment he sat down, his hands on your waist and his eyes all over you.
"tell me what's wrong," you asked again
You hated seeing him all troubled, he deserved nothing but happiness this man of yours,
because that's what he brought to you every single day
He sighed, before nodding slowly
"it's jus' the guys at work babygirl," he said "nothin' you gotta worry about"
you didn't pay attention to the last part
"What did they do this time?" you asked, softly caressing his chest to try and soothe him
"one of 'em didn't show" he grunted, the palms of his rough hands starting their journey from your pregnant belly to your butt and thighs
"Again?" you raised your eyebrows, annoyed too now "I don't understand why you don't just fire them and get new guys"
The first little smile since he first came home tugged at his lips
"what a coldhearted little boss you'd make" he joked, smirking softly.
You rolled your eyes, biting down a grin of your own
"you know I'm right"
He pushed you even closer to him before responding, wanting to feel more of you, all of you
"I know you are babygirl" he nodded, his forehead to yours now "but you know how I am... I know these guy's stories and evrythin'- I jus' don't have it in me"
Ah that's right
Who could have ever expected such a rough and tough exterior to be hiding such a softie
"you're too nice for your own good, Miller" You couldn't help but smile, softly kissing his cheek
He only grunted in response, losing himself in the scent and feel of you
"'m gonna have a talk with him Monday, I'll see what he has to say for himself"
You nodded, watching him closely
"that's a good idea" you murmured as you let him guide your mouth to his, impatiently kissing you as he'd dreamed of doing since he took the first step out of the house this morning.
You let him taste you, his tongue in your mouth and his beard against your skin, until you both needed air and had to lean away
But something seemed still off, usually, he only needed to feel your lips on his to forget all about his day, but today... today that little shadow in his eyes was still lurking in his iris
"baby" you pouted, your hands reaching for his cheeks to gently take his face in your hands "what can I do to make you feel better?"
And in retrospect, you didn't even know why you asked,
Your husband might have been a gentleman and a hard worker and everything else in this entire world... but he still was just a man.
A man that happened to love the taste of his wife more than anything on this earth
Which is why he didn't waste a moment before murmuring
"y'know what I need babydoll"
God but the way his voice always dropped an octave and that sweet southern drawl got more noticeable every time he needed you was more than enough to impregnate you all over again
"you're insatiable, Miller" you shook your head, laughing that light laugh of yours that made him feel summer breeze and sunshine all over him even on the coldest day of winter
But he didn't laugh, oh no, Joel Miller didn't laugh, he only looked at you, admired you, as you made your decision
"alright" you smiled, getting off his lap with a low groan, before laying on the couch, propping a pillow on the armrest so you could set your head on it to not have your belly cover the best part of the show, which of course, was your husband between your thighs.
just like he was now.
Good Christ and heaven all tougher did he look fucking hot like that,
his eyes fixed on your clothed core, his pupils big and dark with lust, his hands gripping the outside of your legs, his breathing almost as quick as yours...
His eyes found yours as his nose plummeted to your core, his nostrils flaring as he did what would make any woman self-conscious,( that was of course, if they weren't married to such a depraved and pussy obsessed man), he smelled you, he smelled you like you would with a good meal before devouring it, the tip of his nose ever so gently rubbing against your clit in the process.
You whimpered like you always did, and, like he always did, he only continued with his torture.
His tongue felt good even though the soaked material
"Joel" you whined now, as he licked slowly and thoroughly,
He resisted the urge to make you come like that, although he'd proved times and times before that he very well could,
he only stopped when there wasn't a spot on your underwear that wasn't drenched, and your chest was rising and falling faster than the speed of light
That, only that, was when his fingers reached for the fabric covering your core and pulled it to the side, his eyes falling to the work of art between your legs
he didn't say anything, he couldn't, he only groaned before he was devouring you whole
"oh my f-" you cried, your back arching from the couch as his hand seeped underneath your dress to get to your belly, his eyes finding yours again "f-fucking god baby"
He groaned again, his tongue drinking up everything you gave him, swirling over your clit over and over again, getting you utterly desperate just to tease you and fall to your hole, threatening to enter and forcing a gasp out of your mouth
your thighs squeezed around his head just like he liked it, robbing him of almost all oxygen as he buried his whole face into your weeping cunt.
"Joel- baby- p-please"
but he was back at sucking your clit, and all the words in your vocabulary got replaced by mindless, animalistic moans as one of your hands shot to his hair, gripping his hazel locks tightly as your hips started grinding onto his face, his nose, his mustache, his everything
And fuck if he didn't love it, if he didn't live to see you use him for your own pleasure, drenching his face and the couch beneath you with all your sweet juices as you whimpered and moaned what alternated between curses and his name with that irresistible desperate voice of yours.
Yeah, there was nothing that could ever beat this,
the feeling that he got every time you came apart like this was something that could have only been described as a glimpse of heaven, with the angels singing and everything too.
"f-fuck" he knew that high pitch cry, oh he knew it really fucking well "baby I-"
And you didn't even have to tell him, he already knew.
He continued feasting on your pussy, letting you chase your own high, and before you knew it, your head was thrown back and a wildfire of pleasure spread through your whole body, from your toes to the ends of your fucking hair.
You would have guessed you'd just run a marathon by how fast your heart was beating
"you're the most gorgeous woman on this planet" Joel murmured more to himself as he kissed the inside of your thigh, sending a shiver down your spine, before crawling up to ghost your lips "with the sweetest fuking pussy too"
You could only let out a silly laugh before he kissed you, letting you have a taste of that sweetness.
But when you didn't feel him grind what you knew must have been a rock hard erection underneath his jeans, on your core like he usually did, you frowned, as you watched him sit up instead
"baby?" your forehead creased even more in puzzlement once you watched him undo his zipper and pull out his aching cock, not looking even remotely interested in making a move to position himself at your entrance
"what are you doing?" you finally asked, sitting up too now
He wrapped a hand around his dick as he answered
"You're still sore from this mornin'"
What does that have to do with anything?
"but-"
He shook his head, watching you closely with that honest care that he only showed you "no but" he declared "I don't wanna hurt you babygirl"
And although you would have liked to argue, you knew that since you'd gotten pregnant, his protective side had somehow gotten even more hard-headed, and changing his mind was damn near impossible, which is why what you did instead, was change the tactic
"I still have hands... or a mouth, you know?" you cocked an eyebrow, eyeing his manhood
You didn't miss the way his member twitched ever so little at the proposal,
but then again, he had always refused you going down on him since the pregnancy, not because he didn't want to, fuck- god only knew the unspeakable things he'd do to let that pretty mouth of yours take care of him, no, the reason was he simply didn't want you to go through all that just for him, for his insignificant pleasure.
"All you gotta do is just sit there and look pretty, sugar" he murmured, finally starting to stroke himself, groaning lowly as he did
Your breathing faltered at the image, his large hands fisting his cock hard, stroking up and down in a way that looked incredibly natural and incredibly intimate at the same time.
And even if he'd ignored your proposal, you couldn't help but smile before pressing a kiss to his neck, right where his pulse was fighting against his skin.
And while you did that, now softly peking every inch of skin not covered by his shirt, you started undoing the straps of your dress, letting them fall down with the top of it once you were done
"like this?" you asked, biting down a smirk as Joel let out a desperate moan at the image before him.
God your tits looked even fucking better now, so full, so soft, so- so fucking perfect
"sweet Jesus" he groaned, his eyes panning between your mouth and your boobs as his strokes got faster, more desperate
You felt his hand sneak up your body and finding your tits, grabbing at them softly, gently caressing each one with all the care and amazement in the word, until he was whispering, begging "fucking-come here" and pulled your mouth to his, leaving a wet, filthy kiss on your lips as he continued palming your front.
the sound from his work on his dick was obscene, but neither of you cared, especially when the words coming out of your mouth happened to be even obscene.
"You're close?" you asked, feeling his heavy breath fanning over your mouth
"yeah doll"
You kissed him again quickly before speaking
"come inside my mouth baby"
Again, Joel Miller might have been as incredible as you wanted... but he still remained only a man,
a man who had to fight with everything he had in himself not to bust his load right there
"Good fucking Christ-" he groaned, closing his eyes as he threw his head back "fuck me"
"I would if you'd let me" you joked, placing another kiss beneath his ear
He laughed softly, opening his eyes to find yours "you want me to come in your mouth sugar?"
"yes" you nodded without missing a beat "I need it" you cooed, stroking his beard as his breathing became more and more uneven, his cock on the verge of exploding
"I need you to fill me up baby, if not my pussy, my throat at least"
"fuck"
you always knew what to say to get him going
"fucking- damnit" he groaned, tugging hurriedly at his cock as he ordered you to "don't move- open your mouth" until he was kneeling beside you on the couch, grunting and moaning soft curses or that's it-good girl, looking down lovingly at you till his warm seed was filling your whole mouth.
It took him a moment to come back to life, to the real word, but before he knew it, you were kissing as he held you close to his chest.
"Feeling better?" you finally asked
"I don't even remember what I was mad about babydoll"
#i got sleepy towards the end im sorry if its rushed#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fluff#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#fluff#joel miller imagine#joel miller blurb#joel miller angst#fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo
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hands on you | steve harrington x fem!reader
Pairing | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader
Warnings | sexual content 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv sex, vaginal fingering, mutual masturbation, size kink, dirty talk. big dick harrington making his return.
Word Count | 2.3k
A/N | nobody say a damn word. not a damn word. dedicated to @loveshotzz <3
“That… Jesus, Steve,” You’re looking at him — or moreso, it — with a morbid curiosity and wide eyes.
His cock hangs heavy over his tummy, weighed down by its own sheer size, flushed a needy dark pink at the tip and curved ever so slightly to the right, “Babe, how has any girl ever taken that?”
And it’s really a genuine, valid question to ask. He’s so big it makes your mouth water and your pussy clench, though it niggles in the back of your head that he’s guaranteed to be such a stretch. Your hand lays on his thigh, caressing the tan, toned flesh under your biting nails, and you choose to ignore the way he’s hissing from such a simple touch.
“Nobody has, honey,” Steve answers honestly, looking down with blown out eyes as your hand inches closer, backs of your knuckles brushing over his heavy sack, “I mean, I've — I've obviously had sex before, that’s a given. Just that I've had to stop halfway, ‘cause it hurts them.”
“Fuck,” You mutter to yourself, ghosting your fingertips up the length of his shaft until it’s kicking up under your touch, a blurt of precum spilling from his slit, pooling into the dip of his bellybutton, “You’re real sensitive.”
Your voice is breathy, strangled in your throat and Steve whimpers, hips canting up when you wrap your hand loosely around the tip, thumb smearing through the mess he’s making. Your touch is gone as fast as it’s there, pressing your thumb into your mouth like it’s nothing — he tastes nice, almost. Like he clearly drinks water, which is more than you could say for most men.
“Please, honey,” Steve begs, watching you with lust blown eyes as you smack your lips together, savouring him in your mouth, “Y’gonna let me fuck you? I'll be so gentle, promise.”
You think it over — you don’t want him to be gentle. You want him to pin you down and make you take it, fill you up until he’s nestled in your fucking guts and spilling his load so deep you can almost taste it in the back of your throat. But you’re not stupid, you’re clearly not ready for that. Not yet.
He’s disheveled looking as he leans back on his mountain of pillows, lazily sat with you between his spread thighs. He lost all of his clothes long ago, and you’re only sitting in your underwear, the state you’re both in is a clear expectation that you were anticipating sitting on his cock and riding him til the cows came home.
“Gentle or not, Harrington,” You start, maneuvering yourself so you can tuck your legs under his thighs, spreading yourself wide and showing off the obvious wet patch on your silky underwear, “M’gonna need to prepare for taking that monster.”
Steve's not even looking at you, fully focused on the way you’re sliding your panties to the side and exposing your needy cunt to the warm air in his room — you’re soaked, folds glistening under the light as you spread them with your fingers.
He makes a noise, large hand coming out to grip at the base of his cock and squeeze, relieving an ache — he’s barely covering half of his length, your gut churns at that knowledge —, “‘M I not gonna get to touch you at least?” He asks, jerking himself slowly as he watches you in an almost trance-like state, the tips of your middle and ring fingers dipping into your slick entrance and breaching.
It’s not that you don’t want him to touch you, of course you fucking do. but watching him touch himself over you touching yourself is making your tummy quiver, “Patience, baby.”
“Fuck, okay,” Steve’s lazy with it, jerking his cock at a slow pace as you finally sink your fingers into yourself, a quiet moan pulling from your chest as you do it. You can’t stop watching him touching himself, clearly going slow with it so that he doesn’t blow his load before he gets to fuck you.
You’re so close together that the back of your wrist is brushing Steve's heavy balls with every slick glide of your fingers in and out of your gushing pussy, and it’s eliciting the prettiest noises from him. a flush of heat washes over you, tummy muscles clenching when the pad of your middle finger just barely catches on that sweet sensitive spot inside.
“Feel good?” Steve's voice is breathy, almost desperate as his eyes finally flitter up to yours, ripped away from the sight of your cunt pulsing and gushing around your fingers. He's squeezing the base of his cock again, in a desperate attempt to stop working himself up too quickly.
“It —,” You start, gasping when Steve adjusts his leg on top of yours and you’re suddenly hyper aware of his skin on yours, “My fingers are just a little short.”
You don’t even need to ask, Steve's up on his knees and pushing into your space before you can even comprehend it. His cock merely brushes the inside of your thigh and you both moan, the head catching on your flushed skin and smearing wet in its wake.
“Let me?” Steve's voice is barely above a whisper, hand coming up to brush his unruly hair out of his face. It’s hotter than you’d care to admit to, with his pretty pink lips hung open, watching you intently as you slip your fingers out of yourself fully, the sickening squelch making you both shudder.
You lean back on both hands, Steve's hovering so close over the top of you that his breath is hitting your face, fingers grazing up the inside of your thigh until he’s hitting your hot, wet folds. Two fingers swirl just barely over your clit, enough to punch a moan out of you, fingertips grappling on his comforter, before he’s sinking the same two fingers into your cunt, all the way to the hilt.
“Oh fuck,” You gasp, steve’s expert fingers crooking up into that spot you couldn’t quite catch and past it, rubbing at the spongyness until your hips are canting up. The leaky tip of his cock presses into the meat of your leg, a reminder it’s there, and it only makes you moan louder, hips rocking into Steve's hand.
“You’re so tight around my fingers, fuck,” Steve comments, watching between both of your bodies as your pussy swallows his fingers, clenching and fluttering on them — the slick slide is deafening in your ears, winding you up further.
His thumb swipes at your clit and it makes your eyes roll, the assault on your g-spot becoming almost too much, the heat in your tummy blooming quickly.
“You gonna cum for me?” Steve's grinning, leaning his forehead on yours, fingers speeding up ever so slightly, pads running in circles until you’re panting and crying out, “Can feel you gripping me, honey. C’mon, let me feel you cum.”
Your eyes squeeze tight as the blooming heat bursts into flames, a cry of his name leaving your lips as euphoria spreads through your entire body. You feel your cunt pulsing sporadically around Steve’s fingers, gushing wet and soaking the sheets as he fucks you through it, fingers slowing down until they’re almost at a stop.
Suddenly, the overwhelming desire to have Steve fill you up with his cock is clouding your brain, blurring your eyes at the edges. You can feel him, hot and heavy, brushing so close to your cunt it’s dizzying, “Need you to fuck me, steve. please?”
Steve's brows pull together, he’d clearly forgotten about his own needs and desires in favor of yours and that only makes you want him all the more, “You sure, honey? You’re gonna be so sensitive, can you handle me?”
His words shouldn’t affect you the way they do, but you moan, all high pitched and needy, “C’mon, Steve. Fuck me like you mean it.”
And who would Steve be to refuse you that? He gently nudges you down onto your back until you’re laid flat, pulling your shaking legs up until your knees are bent up.
You can feel the head of his cock snagging ever so slightly on your puffy cunt, still sopping wet and no doubt drenching him in your release. Your tummy quivers in anticipation.
He sighs, shaky, as he grips at the base of his cock blindly, unable to take his eyes off of yours, like he’s searching for a definite answer. You nod, another go ahead, and his cock properly presses at your entrance, knocking the breath from your lungs.
He’s. Well, he’s fucking big. The first few inches slip into you and punch a ragged moan from you, eyes squeezing shut as you beg your body to relax for him.
“Hey, hey,” Steve’s voice catches you off guard, his other hand grabbing for yours and lacing your fingers together at the side of your head, “If it doesn’t feel good, tell me to stop.”
“Don’t fucking stop,” You gasp, squeezing his hand. It’s not a bad burn, it feels fucking good. Teeters on the edge of too much, but the right edge.
“Oh thank god,” Steve chuckles a little, pushing in another inch and your pussy clenches instinctively, choking his cock, “Honey, I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”
You giggle, the movement causing your cunt to flutter around him and he moans properly this time, rutting into you another inch or two, filling you out.
Steve’s hand that was on his cock suddenly grips at your hip, as he bottoms out with a low growl, you feel it rumble up his chest, “You’re so — so fucking tight, warm,” Steve grits his teeth, pushing his hips forward to make it obvious that he’s fully sheathed in you, his heavy balls pressing tight to your ass.
You feel. Full. Ridiculously full. He’s hitting everywhere inside of you, the curve of his cock pressing into all the right spots, thatch of dark pubes brushing against your sensitive clit.
His hand laced with yours grounds you, helps you relax and settle into it quickly, his chest flush to yours and pressing you down helps, too.
Your eyelids flutter when he ruts into you again, reminding you of the size of him, “Move, Steve, need you to fuck me, yeah?”
Steve grunts, pulling out just a few inches and pushing back in, eyes rolling as the wet heat of your cunt invites him back in, “Think your pussy likes me being here, honey.”
You cry out at that, pussy spasming. You’re at a loss for words, the only thing on your mind is how Steve invades all of your senses. He leans down, kisses at the expanse of your neck as he sets a good rhythm. You feel every ridge of him, pushing so deep you swear you feel him in your guts.
“Hear that?” He mutters against your flushed, damp skin as he fucks you properly now, knocking the breath from you with every harsh thrust, “She loves me, baby. Loves my big cock, fuck.”
Of course you can fucking hear it, the way your cunt is gushing, sloppy and soaking for him, more and more leaking around his shaft as he assaults your frontal wall. You whine, loud and beggy, fingernails digging into Steve’s hand where they’re still interlaced at the side of your head.
“Taking me so good, honey. Can’t believe you’re taking all of me,” Steve groans, pace quickening as he chases his high — you’re not far behind, the constant press to your spongey spot and the occasional catch of your clit against his pubic bone is getting you there fast.
It’s so fucking hot, the way he speaks to you. Your body is alight with need and want, “Keep talking, Steve. G’nna cum,” You breathe, leg tightening around the base of his back, heel of your foot pushing into his ass.
“Yeah?” Steve grins into your collarbone, you feel it against your flushed skin, “Cumming when you’re full on my big cock? Fuck, c’mon, show me how much she loves me. She’s so greedy, honey.”
Your cunt grips him like a vice, that same blooming feeling from earlier back with a vengeance as you reach the end — it’s so hard to think, with him pressing so deep and rough. You nod, whining and crying out, “Fuckfuckfuck, ohmygod —!”
Your vision blurs at the edges, knocked dizzy and sick with it when your orgasm washes over you like tidal waves, fingertips digging into the back of Steve’s hand until he’s hissing and groaning, fucking you through it with a harsh snap of his hips.
“That’s it, so fucking tight,” Steve grunts, picking up speed and rutting into you until you’re practically screaming, “Gonna cum in you, fill you up with it, oh fuck —”
His hips still suddenly as he pushes his face into your neck and cums with a low grunt of your name. You feel every bit of his release shooting deep inside you, every pulse of his cock. Your walls flutter around him and he hisses in retaliation, smacking your hip gently.
He collapses on top of you after that, entire body spent. You can’t find it in you to care, as his cock softens slowly — you feel his cum spilling out of you, though you’re half asleep and struggling to comprehend it.
Your attention only piques when you feel fingertips at your puffy, used entrance, pushing the liquid back into your weeping hole.
It’s disturbing how ready you are for Steve, when he fucks himself back into you not long after.
#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fic#steve harrington blurb#mine#my work#my fanfic#x reader#this was meant to be a drabble but uh#i got carried away#as usual
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Toxic!Rafe and toxic!reader, where they’re fighting because he wants to go out to a strip bar with Topper and Kelce which reader hates (she thinks they encourage his bad behavior) after she told him no. so when reader goes on insta to look at Rafes story and sees he lied and went anyways after seeing a pic of him in the sniffers row at the bar, she gets all crazy and starts responding to the story with full paragraphs 😭 and so when he starts replying she blocks him mid argument, and he goes home and yells at her until they get all lovey dovey again 🥰 (sorry this is long)
warnings: toxic relationship (?), slight humor, cussing, lying, crying, shouting, arguing, mentions of sex, a little plot twist at the end
“..i don’t know about that, man. y/n has a bitch fit everytime i go somewhere without her, i highly doubt she’d be okay with me going there of all places.” you stood outside your bedroom door, rolling your eyes at the sound of topper’s voice. “who cares what she says? she’s not your fuckin’ mommy, bro.” you suppressed a laugh, knowing rafe has called you ‘mommy’ a numerous amount of times. your boyfriend sighed, staying silent for a moment. “look, i’ll ask her alright? if she says no then i ain’t going.” you smiled to yourself, walking into the room with a fresh stack of t-shirts in your hands.
“here she is now, i’ll call you back.” you placed the folded laundry on top of the dresser. “tell the spawn of satan herself we say hello!” kelce shouted in the background. “aww is that dumb and dumber on the phone? hey, guys!” rafe shook his head, a laugh tumbling out of his throat. he hung up the call, getting up to wrap his arms around your waist. you leaned into him, breathing in his cologne as you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “listen, uh, topper and kelce are inviting me out tonight, ‘wanted to know if i can join them..” you arched a brow, turning around in his hold.
“and where do y’all plan on going?” rafe cleared his throat awkwardly. “well.. you know how the guys are, they always wanna go to some new place..” he trailed off, clearly stalling as much as he could. “just say it, rafe.” he swallowed nervously. “a strip club.” suddenly his hands felt tense on your skin, and he couldn’t hold your stare. “a strip club?” you repeated, pulling away from him. “that’s cute, but no.” rafe tongued the inside of his cheek, immediately taking out his phone.
[4:30 PM] to: topper, kelce: i’m in, pick me up at nine.
“what are you doing?” you eyed him as he brought the phone up to his ear, walking around to the other side of the bed. “m’telling them i can’t go, because you’re gonna be all pissed off if i do.” you scoffed, eyeing him carefully. rafe cursed under his breath, praying to god you couldn’t tell he wasn’t actually calling anyone. “hey, bro. i can’t go, it’s a hard no.” he scratched the back of his neck. “yeah, i know. maybe another time- wait, where?” rafe stopped pacing, nodding along to his own imagination. “pizza and beer? that sounds good. nine o’clock? alright i’ll see y’all then.” he shrugged as he pretended to hang up.
“alright, no strip club, but charlie’s pizza instead, is that alright?” you nodded. “that’s fine, but you better text me.” he jumped up, pulling you into a hug that ended with you two falling in bed. “i mean it rafe, i want pizza pictures and everything!” he showered you with kisses, taking his time when he got to your lips. you two stayed like that for a few minutes, making out softly before you pulled away. “you should start getting ready before i get too horny, ‘cause then i really won’t let you go anywhere.” you ran your thumb over his bottom lip, sighing when he got up. “good call.” he laughed, getting an outfit ready for tonight.
nine o’clock rolled around faster than you wanted it to, and sure enough topper and kelce were outside honking like maniacs once they pulled up. “i love you, baby, i’m gonna text you in a bit.” you smiled, watching him holler all the way down to where topper and kelce practically tackled him. “we promise to have him home no later than one, mommy dearest!” you gave kelce the middle finger, shutting the door once rafe blew you a kiss. now that you had the house to yourself you figured you’d shower and unwind, maybe finish the book you had been reading. all was well until you glanced at the time on your phone. 10:45 PM, and still no word from rafe.
you opened instagram, spotting the green circle around your boyfriend’s profile picture, indicating he had posted on his close friends. you clicked on it, your heart dropping at the video of rafe throwing money at a stripper’s ass. “front row seats, baby!” he cheered. just as you thought it couldn’t get any worse, the next story was a photo of a blonde sitting in rafe’s lap, topless and smiling from ear to ear. “this motherfucker..” you closed the app, deciding you saw enough before opening you and rafe’s text thread on imessage.
[10:55 PM] - i don’t know what’s funnier; the fact that you had a whole conversation with yourself in front of me to make it sound like you were just getting pizza and beer with your dickhead friends, or forgetting to take me off your close friends list when you want to post yourself at some sleazy ass strip club. you’re a fucking joke.
rafe had never sobered up so fast in his life, all the blood draining from his face when he read your message. “fuck!” he cursed at himself, his head resting in his hands.
[11:10 PM] my <333: baby i promise i’ll explain everything, i’m telling the guys to take me home right now.
[11:15 PM] - there’s nothing you could say that’ll ‘explain’ what the fuck you did. you sat there in my face and kissed me and reassured me when you were getting your way all along. can you even comprehend how fucked up that is? you made me look stupid in front of your friends who already don’t like me. AND THE TOPLESS PICTURE???? ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE???? if i posted a picture with my tits all in jj’s face, how would you feel? we both know he’s one phone call away if i really wanted him.
rafe’s blood was boiling after he read your message, knowing that you could leave him and have someone as desperate and lovesick as jj replace him in a heartbeat. “bro don’t sweat it, man. she’ll get over it.” topper slurred, entering figure eight again. “shut the fuck up, you don’t know the first thing about being in a relationship.” rafe shot back, clenching his fists when the message he tried to send turned green. topper didn’t respond, the rest of the ride home being dead silent.
rafe didn’t even say bye to kelce or topper when they arrived at tanneyhill, instead he rushed inside, eyes immediately falling to you resting on the couch. you were wearing your pink, fluffy robe, rollers adorning your hair while you were typing something on your ipad. “babe-” rafe shut the door, falling to his knees before you. “don’t get near me. you probably smell disgusting.” rafe’s jaw ticked, his patience already running low. “i’m so fucking sorry, y/n. i shouldn’t have lied to you, baby. i promise i’ll never do that again.” you finally looked at him, his bangs falling in his face.
“i know,” you sighed, “you don’t have to worry about me doing anything either.” you got up, attempting to walk past him before he grabbed your leg. “what are you talking about?” you knew rafe well enough to know when he was getting angry, and the way he was looking at you right now only confirmed your suspicions. “you don’t get to do what you did and think it’s all going to be fine and dandy with an apology, rafe. i’m leaving for my parents tomorrow, and don’t ask me when i’m coming back because i don’t know. i don’t think i can live with a liar.” you shoved him away, only making him grab you again, this time throwing you down on the couch.
“you don’t think you could live with a liar?” he narrowed his eyes, a bitter laugh falling from his lips. “has it ever occurred to you that i wouldn’t have to lie to you if you would just not freak the fuck out everytime i want to go out and have fun?” you couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. “you’re one to talk!” you screamed in his face, making him stand up. you followed suit, refusing to let him make you feel powerless. “you wanna act like you’re trapped here? fine! play the victim, but don’t forget everything you do to keep me from going out too.” you were pacing back and forth now, running your fingers through your hair.
“you literally slashed my friend’s tires to keep me from going to her birthday party, and all for what? because you found out other guys were going to be there?” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “i paid for the damages, y/n…” he groaned. “so?! it’s the principal! you do the most when it comes to me wanting to go somewhere, but me telling you not to go to a literal strip club is where you draw the line?? fuck you!” you started making your way upstairs, rafe right on your tail as you did so.
“fuck me?! i’m the one who takes care of you! there’s nothing in this world that you want and don’t have! i take you on regular vacations, i take you out damn near everyday, i keep you in all the newest shit, i pay for you and all your friend’s beauty appointments so that y’all could have a girl’s day twice a month, you just have no fucking clue!” he shouted, making you stop in your tracks. you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, breaking his heart in two.
“and what about everything i do for you?” you let out a shaky breath. “i’m what makes this house a home. i wear the clothes you want me to wear, i eat the food you want me to eat, i talk the way you want me to talk. i’m here when all else fails. i’m the one who holds you and comforts you when things get hard for you. i’m the one who makes sure you never feel alone, ‘makes sure you don’t go through anything alone. i do everything you say. on the days you work long and hard, i’m right here waiting for you with my legs open. on the days that you’re particularly tired, i’ll be on my knees, i’ll ride you and do all the work, and i’ll do everything happily because i love you.” rafe was crying with you by the time you finished speaking, both of you standing in the hallway.
“i get up at the ass crack of dawn and doll myself up everyday because i want to look good for you, i want to please you with everything i do. when we go to the country club, i speak of you in the highest regards, and i do it because i want everyone to know that i respect you. i do all of this, and i do it all without the commitment of having a fucking ring on my finger. if that doesn’t speak volumes for you, then i don’t know what does.” you walked inside your shared bedroom, taking a seat at the edge of the bed. he dropped to his knees once again, hugging your waist like you’d disappear if he let go. “we need each other. i need you.” he cried. you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him up off the floor.
“i love you, y/n. please, you can’t leave.” you cupped his face. “i haven’t seen my parents in almost six months, rafe. i have to..” he nodded slowly, taking your hand in his. “then we’ll go together. ‘tell them we have a special announcement.” you watched him with a confused expression as he went to grab a small box out the bottom drawer of the bedside table. “rafe!” you gasped, hands flying up to cover your mouth. “i’ve had this for a while now, i don’t know what i was waiting for, but i want to do this now.” he opened the box, the biggest diamond you’ve ever seen lighting up your eyes.
“i know we have to work on some things, but there’s no one else i’d rather do this with.” you gazed into his eyes, a small smile gracing your lips. “okay, let’s do it.”
#‧₊˚✩彡 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒#i got a little carried away..#tysm for this request anon 🎀#outer banks#outer banks netflix#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagine#rafe concepts#rafe edit#rafe fluff#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks smut#drew starkey
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Classic "promised-at-birth-to-the-Ghost-King" story, except the contract never states how, exactly, the King is to use the offered soul. Usually, one would be offered as a bride or sacrifice. But with Pariah Dark sealed away, his retainers got a little lazy in the last few millennia. They just made some generic contracts and practically handed them out like candy.
When Danny took over as king via conquest, that included all the weird and messed up soul contracts the previous retainers had signed. And since ghost magic was a thing and seemed to have it out for Danny personally, many of these contracts updated their terms and conditions as soon as that crown hit Danny's head, reflecting the new King's subconscious desires and personality.
This caused many issues with those still around to profit from these contracts. Some people lost their power, some gained more, and some were unbound and kicked to the curb. A few special people found themselves dropping dead after their less-than-ethical abilities disappeared.
Danny was unaware of the chaos he had unintentionally caused for quite a while. It was only brought to his attention when a letter arrived on his desk one day with a copy of someone's valid contract enclosed. The new changes have been highlighted, and a separate note is attached.
It seems that in exchange for blessings of near-immortality for her infant son, a mother had offered Pariah Dark both their souls in order to ensure her child's survival during harsh times. (The souls were to be collected upon death and were to be used as soldiers in the King's Army.) The mother's soul had returned to the Keep decades ago and was recently assigned to tend to the gardens, while her son seemed to have grown into a fine gentleman and was still alive. He used his mother's gifts to serve his country and loved ones well, it seemed.
At first, Danny didn't see what any of this had to do with him. If the mother was already a part of his kingdom, and the son would be eventually, why was a letter about the whole thing showing up before him?
Then he read the revised contract, which bore his magical signature. A signature that overruled the power of Pariah and binding it to him.
'...and as such, in return for the abilities stated above, [Mary Pennyworth] and [Alfred Pennyworth] will fulfill the conditions detailed below, upon pain of Ending.
[Mary Pennyworth], when returned to the Kingdom of Dark Kingdom of Stars, will work as a lieutenant in the Skeleton Army caretaker in the Gardens of Pluto.
STATUS: COMPLETED
[Alfred Pennyworth], when returned to the Kingdom of Dark Kingdom of Stars, will work as a general in the Skeleton Army caretaker of the King and his Court.
STATUS: PENDING'
Danny had to re-read the contract several times to understand what it was saying. He now had a caretaker? What did a caretaker do? Was it like a ghost parent? Could this guy ghost-ground him??
He sighed and pressed the speed dial on his phone for Tucker. Time to find out who the hell this Alfred Pennyworth guy was, and how to break a magic contract when it wasn't even fulfilled yet.
Meanwhile, Alfred had just found the original copy of the contract amongst his mother's belongings after it glowed and drew him in. The paperwork cleared up a lot of mysteries he'd always wondered about himself, even if he disapproved of his mother's methods. Nonetheless, he smoothed out the aged paper with dark green ink, noted the fresh (sloppy, a teenager?) signature, and began preparing to meet this supposed new King and his Court.
It wouldn't hurt to make introductions before he died, after all.
#pondhead blurbs#dpxdc#alfred is now their grandpa#i just want alfred to meet danny and his group of friends and unironically call him 'your majesty' and danny HATES it#like this is the guy who's gonna be my butler/caretaker after he dies? please man just say my name#it's not a cursed name i swear#no one else knows how to feel#cause like#if the contract wasn't in place everyone was sure Alfred would haunt the manor even after death due to his devotion to the wayne family#but now he's already got a job in the afterlife#so how will the bats see their father/grandfather figure now?#Bruce: the obvious solution is to adopt these random kids who still have families so alfred never has to leave :)#alfred isn't even dead yet but the bats are speedrunning their grief in like a week
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Could you do a blurb where reader rolls a joint for Eddie for the first time with all her cute papers and stuff and he loves it?
Happy Stoner Christmas!
happy 4/20! 😶🌫️💚
“Well, if it isn’t for my favorite customer.”
You hear him before you see him, and sit up straighter as you look up, torso twisting around to face Eddie.
He’s walking through the tree line that acts as the ‘fence’ to your backyard. Not exactly born into wealth, your home is on the edge of Hawkins and lacks the white picket fence and concrete driveway, with nature and gravel filling in. Just down the street is Jonathan Byers’ home.
Confidence radiates off of Eddie as he approaches the picnic bench you were waiting on, his curls sway a little. He’s rocking a band shirt today—long sleeves rolled up his forearms—and some dark jeans. You try not to squirm under his stare, the wild grin on his face stirring something in your tummy.
You knew you’d end up crushing on him after the first time you went to him for weed instead of Rick. He was cute.
Eddie was so freaking cute and charming and funny. You probably would have been fine if he had just been cute and charming, but the humorous trait was your weakness. You loved funny guys.
Sure enough, by the fourth time he dealt to you—his tongue was in your mouth. And the fifth time, you’d gone to third base. Now, whatever happened when he came around just happened. You accepted it, even if it makes you a little nervous because you know very well you’re interested in more than just the benefits that come with your encounters.
You want him. Like, boyfriend him. It’s kind of tragic, actually, because you don’t even know if you’re the only one of his clientele he treats this way. Eddie can be fucking the rest of them for all you know and it drives you insane because you want to ask—you’re just too chicken shit.
“You say that as if this wasn’t prearranged.” You laugh out and Eddie snorts, dumping his black lunch pail on the leaf riddled bench top next to your scooby-doo lunch box with a metal clang.
“I’m trying to be cute and you’re ruining it.” When you laugh again, Eddie’s eyes squint in triumph, “And I’ll have you know I have been waiting—no, yearning for you to call upon me. Moved my bed over to the phone and everything. Thought you forgot allllllll about me.”
“Me forget about you? Impossible.” You declare in a joking manner, though you truly mean the sentiment. Your mental health might be better if you could forget him. Then you wouldn’t be able to make yourself sick over the idea of him kissing other people.
“You better mean that.” He jabs an accusatory finger, silver ring glinting, in your direction as he settles in across from you, “The usual, my sweet?”
UGH! SEE?! Too damn cute.
“Please?” You’re too busy opening up your own lunch box full of supplies to notice the heated look he fixes you with right then.
Eddie clears his throat, tongue darting out to swipe over his lower lip as he pops the lid of his lunch pail open, pulling out a little baggie with your favorite strain of buds. He eyes it with a glint in his eye before it’s held out to you, dangling from his fingertips.
You look up once you realize it’s being offered, and pinch the top of the baggie as your other hand holds out the folded bills. Eddie flicks them out of your loose grip, and it goes flying to land in your lap while you jump in surprise.
“My bad,” he snickers, his pretty teeth gleaming, “it’s on the house.”
You pick up exactly where he wants you to, “In that case, please accept my offer to smoke you out with my newly acquired goods.”
That feeling in your belly—butterflies—intensifies at the slow and large smile that spreads on his face, forcing his little dimple to make an appearance.
It always goes like this now.
Eddie comes over (or you go to him), weed is exchanged and when you try to pay him for it, he refuses. Then, you invite him to smoke weed with you (and he’ll always pull from the extra inventory he carries around—never from what he’s just given you), the two of you get high and you finally feel brave enough to make a move because you know he always waits for you to do it. Gives you the power to start things, your own comfort, though he takes full control once you get going. He’s always so keen on taking care of you. You’d once thought that maybe he didn’t want you as much as you wanted him, since it was always you initiating things, but the way he’d beg for you, ramble about how much he wanted you, how desperate he was for you and his ‘finally, I thought I was gonna die’s on just your kisses alone, soothed that insecurity.
“I’d be delighted to! But─”
“Nope.” You interrupt, having seen his hand reaching into his pail. “My weed—not yours.”
He raises his eyebrows in surprise and when you don’t back down, both of his hands are lifted in surrender before one is extended to you out on the bench, palm up. Eddie’s waiting for you to give him your grinder and the weed so he can start rolling but you low five his palm instead and he chuckles, skin tingling from the contact.
“That’s not exactly what I meant.”
“I know, but I’m also rolling today, too.”
Eddie scoffs and smirks, fixing you with that heated stare again and you quickly divert your gaze, pulling out your pretty purple grinder and getting to work. You are not gonna let him make you nervous and fumble around, “Baby…”
Oh, god. The way he coos it out, nice and low—you’re instantly taken back to other times you’d heard him say it like that. You’d been bent into all kinds of positions as it was rasped into your ear, the sweat from both of your bodies plastering Eddie to you. Your hand twists the top of the grinder on autopilot as you stare at nothing, gaze vacant.
Eddie knows exactly where your mind has taken you and his smirk widens.
“You can’t roll for shit.”
That snaps you out of your stupor, mouth dropping.
“I can, too! You’ve never seen me put in the work.”
“I have, that’s why I roll.”
And you cringe as you recall the first time you’d try to roll a joint. It had been the second time Eddie sold to you, having only used pre-rolled cones prior. Those only meant you had to pack the wrap in with weed, kind of like a funnel and then twist the end closed before partaking.
Rolling from start to finish was a whole other endeavor and you’d failed so badly, Eddie had rolled around on the floor laughing. You didn’t take any offense, too busy jumping up and down inside at having made the cute, charming funny guy you liked laugh.
“I’ve been practicing,” You pout, placing the grinder down after you’re sure the nug of the bud you’d placed in it was now almost powder-like.
“You tryna impress me, hm?” He hums out, and you refuse to look up, knowing those pretty brown eyes of his are gonna be lidded and it’ll do you in early. You’ll have to jump him right there, “Been practicing to show me what you can do?”
You ignore him, focusing instead on the rolling papers you had.
Eddie places his chin in his hand, watching you intently as you frown in concentration before it breaks when you select a rolling paper, cherries decorating the white sheets. You pull your small rolling tray out and some part of Eddie throbs. You hadn’t had that before.
You quickly scrunch a filter together, folding the rolling paper and placing the filter at the edge of the fold before you unscrew the grinder and begin pinching the green within to sprinkle on the paper. Once it was full, and Eddie notices with wide eyes that you’ve packed it with a significant amount, you use dexterous fingers to carefully roll it together, tongue poking out as you take diligent care to ensure no fall out. Once the green flower is properly contained, you lick the free edge and fold it over the rest of the joint before you pinch and twist the end.
After a few moments of intense scrutiny, you hold it out victoriously, “Taduh!!! For you.”
Eddie takes the joint, turning it this way and that as he marvels. You really had been practicing, it was beautiful. He feels an intense amount of pride bloom in his chest and something else. Always for you, only ever for you.
“Did I do good?” You ask, voice shy as you bite your lip and this time you don’t look away when that heavy stare focuses on you. You wanna faint, but you don’t. He doesn’t say anything for a while and you know where tonight is gonna lead.
“Baby,” There’s that rasp again that makes you want to drop dead and smash your mouth to his at the same time, “I’m gonna need you to come over here now. Don’t think I can wait.”
#I got this request before i made the prompt post shhhhh#Queenimmadolla’s smokesesh#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson blurbs#eddie munson fanfic
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enemies to lovers with rafe. you go on a road trip with your friends (including topper etc..). one night reader and the rest of the friendgroup gets high and reader and rafe ends up fucking. pretty pretty please
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content warning drug use
You don’t know why Rafe hates you so much. Since you set out on your road trip this morning, he’s been standoffish. But that’s nothing new from him. He’s always had an attitude reserved specifically for you.
You’ve always assumed he didn’t like you butting in on guy time, but Topper and Kelce have been your best friends since you were kids. You’re not going to stop spending time with them just because Rafe doesn’t want you around.
You’re in the backseat with Kelce, windows down as Rafe drives and Topper controls the music. You’ve been on the road for a few hours now, sights set on a beach house you rented to spend the night in.
When you stop at a gas station, Topper and Kelce pile out of the car to load up on snacks. You’re slower than them as you collect your things. You notice Rafe waiting by your open door, stood between the car and the pump.
“Today,” he snaps. You realize he’s trying to get to the gas tank.
“You can go around,” you reply.
“I shouldn’t have to,” he says tensely. “Why are you so fucking slow?”
You slide out of your seat and your feet find the ground, shutting the door and facing Rafe. He towers over you with a clenched jaw, glaring down at you.
“You have your whole life to be an asshole,” you mutter. “Can’t you take a day off? For once?”
He only gives you the same glare you’ve been on the receiving end of for months.
“What’s your problem?” you ask.
“My problem?” he mutters. Instead of your usual sharp retort, Rafe watches your face fall ever so slightly.
“What did I do to you?” you say softly, at a loss for why he’s always so combative towards you.
He scoffs and brushes past you, no regard for personal space as his body presses against yours. You hate that the feeling sends a rush of arousal through you. You despise him, but you can’t deny that he’s attractive.
As Rafe fills up the gas tank, he thinks about how much he hates that you look at him like that. Like you’re revolted by him.
He shakes his head. You’re so goddamned stuck-up. From the moment he met you, he could tell you’d never even glance in his direction. He never stood a chance and you love to make it obvious.
When you arrive at the beach house, you have dinner with your friends, ignoring Rafe like usual. The four of you head down to the beach to get high and watch the sunset.
Rafe trails behind you as you make your way to the shore, watching the way your ass moves with every step, feeling himself getting hard like he always does when he stares at you too long.
After a few puffs of the joint, your head starts swimming with bliss. You sit by the shore together, feet digging into the soft sand, warm wind pressing against your skin, soaking every sensation in.
Rafe watches the way the setting sun hits your features. He knows he’s not sober if he’s admitting to himself that you’re beautiful. He’s supposed to hate you.
The conversation between your friends is silly and hard to follow as it always is when you get high together. You’re not sure how much time passes when the boys call it a night.
You decide to stay sitting on the beach alone, letting the high wash over you as the waves pull up and down the shore, the moonlight glistening on the water.
Rafe’s been thinking about how you looked at him earlier today all night. The way you asked him what you did to him is turning over and over in his mind and he can’t shake it.
He decides to knock on your door after everyone has already gone to bed, but you don’t answer. When he looks out of the glass patio doors and spots your silhouette way out in the distance, he makes his way out into the warm night.
You hear someone say your name. You’re speechless when you turn to see Rafe walking towards you, shirtless, hair wet from the shower, hands stuffed in the pockets of his sweatpants. You try not to stare.
You can’t think of why the hell he would come here. If you two aren’t arguing, you’re ignoring each other.
“What?” you finally say, scowling. Rafe sits next to you, making your brows furrow in confusion.
You’ve never been plunged into privacy with him like this before.
Rafe doesn’t know what’s gotten into him. It must be a twisted mix of the weed and the way you looked at him and how long he’s been grappling with the fact that he wants you.
“You wanna know what you did to me?” he asks. “What you did - what you keep fucking doing is looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you-” He takes a breath, irritation and confusion and vulnerability gripping him. “Like you’re disgusted by me.”
“Rafe,” you scoff. God, even the way you say his name is spiteful. “You’re joking, right? You’ve been mean to me since we met.”
“Because you hate me for no fucking reason.”
“You thought I hated you, so you decided to hate me back?” you snap. “You’re ridiculous. You can…”
You were about to tell him he can leave you alone now, but the depth in his stare and the movement of his rising and falling chest and the sight of his big, bare arms propped up on his knees ignites lust to curl deep in your core.
“I can what?” he says, leaning closer to you. You can smell his sharp body wash, eyes widening when you notice just how nice his lips are.
It’s a look you’ve never given him before. At least, he’s never seen it himself.
“You always such a fucking mouth on you. Now you won’t talk?” he scoffs. “I can what? Do this?”
He leans even closer, eyes half-lidded as he gazes down at you, his mouth an inch away from yours. He hovers, so prideful that he’s forcing you to have to make the final move.
“You can do whatever you want,” you mutter, throwing the pressure back onto him.
Rafe can’t control himself anymore. He cups your cheek roughly, crashing his lips onto yours so hard that you jolt backwards. He doesn’t lose contact, shoving you down to the ground, grinding his growing cock against you.
His mouth is hot, his tongue pushing into your mouth with fervor. You can’t believe that someone you thought despised you is touching you like this.
Your hands roughly drag up Rafe’s warm, firm back and he smiles against your lips, revelling in the feeling of you wanting him, too.
He could have been doing this instead of arguing with you? How much time has he wasted?
Eager hands slip under your shirt and when he dips into your bra to palm your breasts, he exhales sharply. He pulls back, his breath on your cheek as he kneads you, thumbs rubbing over your nipples.
“Whatever I want, huh?” he rasps. “What if I want to fuck you?”
“Then do it,” you reply, your own words shocking you.
Your shorts are soon bunched into a pile by your feet between hard kisses. His hand settles between your legs, pushing your panties to the side, his fingers dipping between your folds, spreading you open.
“Damn,” Rafe whispers, running his hand up and down your wet core. You feel so fucking perfect. This is what he’s been missing out on?
The sensation of his smooth, slow strokes gives you goosebumps. It feels amazing all on its own, but combined with the solace of the drugs in your system, it’s otherwordly.
Rafe dips past the waistband of his sweats and pulls his cock out, almost breathless when he lines himself up against your entrance.
You spread your legs wider, needy for him. He looks down at you, the planes of his handsome face shadowed by the night, as he slowly fills you, every inch better than the last.
He loves the way you squeeze your eyes shut and gasp as he bottoms out inside you. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he rocks back and forth, thrusts quickly getting hard and fast.
Rafe grips your face with one hand, squeezing your cheeks and tilting your head to look at him. You meet his eyes, your moans louder than the waves crashing behind you.
He finds your clit with ease, rubbing in circles, making you tremble when you reach your peak. His thrusts get sloppy as you cum, following you quickly, mumbling a string of fuck’s with his orgasm.
Rafe collapses on top of you, your breaths fast and shallow.
When he sits up to gaze at you again, he thinks about how this blissful, fucked out look on your face is so much better than the glares you’re always giving him. And he wants to keep earning this specific look from you over and over and over again.
#who can tell i’m catching up with all my blurb requests today#this one got LONG#also i love the concept of reader being part of this friend group#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe x reader#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and y/n#rafe cameron and reader#blurb#rafe cameron blurb
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It started with babes. Babes is completely platonic right? Nothing out of the ordinary there. Eddie was known for being over dramatic, why would nicknames -or in this case, pet names- be any different?
Babes wasn't even that over the top, so why was Steve blushing like a school girl after it was said in passing?
Steve definitely knew why, although, he was going to pretend he didn't. But he knew, about himself, about Eddie. A couple months after spring break '86 Steve had a very enlightening talk with Robin about his feelings. Towards Munson. Those completely and totally platonic feelings.
And a couple weeks later, as though Eddie was so in tune with Steve's discovery, Eddie came out to Steve at a campfire with Robin and Nance. Those two had wandered off, Eddie made some comment about "Good for Robs," before realizing his mistake. That was, until Steve said "Yeah, good for Robs," and Eddie just had to ask.
"You know about her? Y'know..."
"What? Eddie? Of course! She's my best friend."
"And you're ok with it?" Eddie was kind of shocked. Great 'King' Steve wasn't going to sick the dogs on Hawkins Local Lesbian? And it seemed like he had known longer than Eddie?
"Yeah, when you survive hell and back enough it's pretty hard to hate anyone for being gay." Steve left off the part where he was also into guys. He knew Eddie was ok with that, clearly ok with Robin, but Eddie might not be ok with being the guy Steve was into.
"Oh. Well," Eddie didn't know if it was the couple beers he had downed, or his newfound safety with this big ol' group of misfits, but he was comfortable asking Steve, "What if I was like Robin too?"
"Are you?" Steve asked. He wasn't going to get his hopes up over hypotheticals, but he could admit he had feelings for the older boy. He wasn't sure what feelings to be honest,but he was figuring that out as he went. He just knew they were more than platonic.
"Well, technically I'm the opposite of Robin, y'know. Not attracted to women. But yeah, I am." Eddie stared into the camp fire, torn between hoping that it would eat him alive, or that it would simply stare back.
"Okay, thanks for trusting me." Steve responded, plain as day.
He had asked Robin, if someone were to come out to him (granted they were not just drugged by Russians), what would she have wanted to hear. And he finally got the chance to use it, seeing the way Eddie's shoulders dropped in relief.
"So you're like actually ok with it?"
"Like I said, been to hell and back with you, who you love doesn't mean a thing over that."
" Yeah," Eddie said,"But most straight guys don't like it when gay guys flirt relentlessly with them."
"We'll keep that one between us then, won't we?" Steve wasn't entirely ready to correct Eddie on the straight thing, so he just didn't acknowledge that part. He chose to ignore the blush rise on his face, blaming it internally on the heat of the fire.
He also tried to ignore that at that point, the nicknames picked up.
It started with babes. Then baby, which made Steve's brain flutter. Then sweetheart. Eddie only used that one when he wanted something, and yet Steve still loved it. Stevie was one of the fan favorites. Not really a pet name, but used just as lovingly as one. Sometimes Eddie held out the end, in a sing-song voice. Made Steve weak in the knees. Eddie knew what he was doing.
It was babe that made Steve do something about it. Eddie used sweetheart, baby, Stevie, around everyone. In front of the kids, on his various trips to Family Video (whether to buy or annoy, who knew). But babe. Babe was just for Steve and Steve alone.
So of course, the only logical order of events was for Steve to start using them back.
It started with babe, the obvious choice. Fight fire with fire, or whatever. The meaningless pet names ended with babes too.
Because after Eddie kissed Steve to shut him up, they suddenly had meaning.
#short n sweet cause ive been gone for too long#in more personal news! just got cast as one of my lifelong dream roles in theatre yesterday!#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie#steve stranger things#eddie stranger things#steddie blurb#steddie drabble#steddie fanfic#steddie ficlet#pet names
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drunk remus will forever be my kryptonite. like imagine him just rambling about everything and then he sees you and is like "ohmygodyouresopretty"
hannah oh em gee. drunk lovesick remus is my everything. I love u for this
summary: remus is drunk and whipped
gn!reader 0.5k words
You walk Remus to the bathroom partly because he’s so drunk he can barely walk in a straight line, and partly because you’re just as clingy as he is right now and you’re not even drunk.
Your arm is braced around his lower back as you lead him down the carpeted hallway. He’s rambling about all sorts of nonsense, and you can’t say you completely understand or even catch a single intelligible word. But it’s nice to listen to his voice. Even if it’s all slurred and sticky.
When you stop at the bathroom door, Remus is not paying attention where he’s going and tries to keep walking. You snag his wrist and pull him back.
“Remus,” you say, trying desperately not to laugh. “Bathroom’s back here, love.”
Remus staggers backwards into your side. His eyes zero in on the bathroom door and then he blinks. “Oh.”
You snort but cover it up with a fake cough. And anyway, Remus is too inebriated to hear you having a laugh at him. He twists the arm that you’ve got in your hand to grab your hand with his instead. Then he pushes the bathroom door open and tries to pull you with him.
“Remus, what are you doing?” You giggle, planting your feet firmly on the threshold and refusing to let him pull you any further.
Remus turns, a blunt, almost impatient look on his face. “I’m going to the bathroom, dove. What does it look like?”
You snort. This time you don’t even bother hiding it. “I’m not coming with you, Remus.”
Remus looks at you like you’re crazy. “What?”
You shake your head at him, very amused and very looking forward to teasing him for this for the rest of his life. “What, d’you want me to hold it?” You ask, incredulous. “I’m not coming.”
Remus pouts at you. “Baby,” he whines.
You hold your ground, even though he looks awfully cute when he’s pouting like that. “Baby,” you mock.
Remus scowls. “Fine then,” he says moodily. You know he’s not actually angry but he’s a damn good actor, even when drunk. He drops your hand and disappears into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
You don’t have to wait long for him to finish. A few minutes pass and then the door opens and Remus appears again. Looking far less sullen, like he’s forgotten all about your refusal to join him in the bathroom.
“Hi,” you say, grinning.
Remus stands there with his hand on the doorknob and a halo of light around his head and blinks. Stares at you hard. Then blinks again.
“Spare me,” he murmurs.
You’re alarmed, to say the least. “What?” you giggle, “Remus, what are you talking about?”
“I swear you’ve gotten prettier since two minutes ago,” he says, and he sounds genuinely boggled. Flabbergasted. “How is that possible? Are you kidding me?”
He takes your face in his big hands and stares at you intensely. He pulls your face so close to his he could kiss you. Looks at you with big wide eyes and parted lips.
“You’re sick,” he says eventually, after a lifetime of his eyes travelling all over your face. “Why would you do this to me?”
You giggle. Your chest feels tight though you won’t tell him that. “I didn’t do anything, Remus.”
Remus huffs. “Sure you didn’t,” he says, all sarcasm. “You’re—“
You kiss him to shut him up. Purely to make him stop talking, of course, and not because his doting is making your face burn.
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#me when I just whipped this up as soon as I got the ask 🤓#I like remus okay … leave me alone#★ mal writes!#remus lupin#ღ remus#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x y/n#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin fic#remus lupin x reader fluff#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin blurb#remus lupin drabble#remus lupin x you#remus lupin x gn!reader#remus lupin blurbs#remus lupin drabbles#remus lupin scenario#remus lupin oneshot#✉️
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I cant stop thinking about having a threesome w robb stark and jon snow😭😭😭😭😭
LIKE IMAGINE HAVING BOTH OF THE KINGS OF THE NORTH DOWN AT THEIR KNEES FOR YOU.
valid omgg!! i can totally understand you like that just sounds so good holy shit
I mean, they’re both great lovers individually, but to have them both with you? That is something different again, something even better perhaps. And I know they would worship you every second of the time spent with you.
And to feel their hands all over your during sex? That’s gonna feel so good. To have one of them behind you, touching you, while the other one kisses you. Or to have one of them fuck you while you suck the other one off. And believe me, they would not rest until you got as much enjoyment as possible out of that threesome.
They’re gonna take their time with you, trying out different positions and ideas. It would never get boring and they do everything with such precision that you’re basically melting in their arms.
got more for thirsty thursday? send it in here
#jon snow x reader#robb stark x reader#jon snow blurb#robb stark blurb#got#got blurb#q#thirsty thursday
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Hey Hii!
I was wondering... do you accept request? If you accept the request, could you write something about Davos Seaworth? or Beric Dondarrion. I hope you have time.~
Hello love! Sorry it took me so long to get to this and I’m sorry it’s as lengthy as my other works, I might add onto it as time goes on but for now it is a blurb for what I had imagined.
One Eyed Beauties | Beric Dondarrion blurb
#beric dondarrion x reader#beric dondarrion imagines#beric dondarrion#Beric Dondarrion x you#game of thrones fanfiction#game of thrones imagines#game of thrones#game of thrones x reader#got imagine#got blurb
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older! eddie finally having enough of reader calling him old man and he decides to show her how much of an old man he really is😏😏😏
“old man yeah?” he says grinning ear to ear when you whine pathetically underneath him, “wanna say that again?” he coos
18+ only pleaaaase!
The ball rolls down the lane, heavy and awkward, knocking into the pins and only sending a couple falling.
“That was possibly the worst throw of the night, Munson!” Robin says, smiling proudly when Eddie glares at her.
He groans, swiveling his arm to stretch out his shoulder.
“Not fair, this shit used to be easy. ‘S fuckin’ killing my shoulder tonight,” he comments, picking up his bottle of beer and clinking it with the top of Steve’s in a sort of pity toast to his bad turn.
“Oh, come on, old man!” you tease, standing to take your turn. You pick up your bowling ball from the bunch, giving Eddie a devious glance. “Let me show you how it’s done, sans any shoulder pain or back pain or pain in any other body part,” you smirk, earning a laugh from Steve.
“Ouch,” he says. “She’s got you there, Ed. Shoulder pain, really? When we’re not even halfway through this game.”
“Oh fuck off, Harrington. Wasn’t it two nights ago I saw you buying Epsom salts complaining about sore muscles? From a day at the pool with your kids?”
“Listen, the amount of times I had to pick them up and toss them into the water—”
You giggle, letting the two of them bicker as you take your turn. You let the ball go in a more elegant manner than Eddie, standing at the end of the lane as you wait to see the outcome. Sure enough, all ten pins fall with a scattered crash, and you bounce up and down eagerly.
“Woo!” Robin and Steve cheer, Eddie rolling his eyes as you high-five them.
“Alright, sweetheart, so you think you’re the superior bowler?” he asks, pulling you against him.
“I know I am, old man,” you draw out the last two words, pressing a polished finger to his chest. “Unless you really think you can show me up. But I wouldn’t want you hurting that shoulder while you try,” you pout, seeing the way the look in his eyes changes at your teasing. “Can’t have you doing too much… physical activity.”
“Alright, so that’s how you want to be, hm?” he asks, his voice low. “Just wait ‘til we get home, darling.”
The comment makes you shiver, his figure slipping away from you as soon as the words are out of his mouth. You watch him leave to get another drink, your mouth slightly agape as film reels run through your head, showcasing the activities that probably await you when you return home. Chewing on your lip, you return to your seat next to Robin, knowing full well you’re going to get under Eddie’s skin as much as you possibly can before the night is over.
Stumbling through the door just before midnight, a couple shitty bowling-alley-bar mixed drinks in your system, Eddie’s got his finger hooked in the waistband of your too-tight jeans, pulling you into him.
“That was real fucking cute, the way you kept mocking me all night,” he rasps, his warm breath fanning your ear, his lips barely grazing the shell of it. “If I had to hear you call me an old man one more time, I swear I was going to put you in the car and fuck you right there in the parking lot,” he says, kissing at your jaw.
You whine a little, tilting your head to the side to allow him better access.
“This is exactly what you wanted, isn’t it?” he asks, knowing the answer.
“Ed—” you pant, trying to paw at the buckle on his jeans.
“It is, god of course it’s what you wanted. I know your angles, baby,” he purrs, his voice dripping with lust.
He presses a hot kiss to your mouth, his tongue licking against your teeth. Your hands climb up his back, clawing at the fabric of his shirt as if your plan is to rip it off of him. He picks you up, carrying you down the hallway without breaking the kiss. He’s tossing you on the bed before he pulls his shirt off, exposing his modest muscles from years of hard work at the shop. You never tire of looking at the tattoos that decorate his pale skin, the ink fading with time.
He’s undoing his belt while you’re stripping bare on his bed, feeling your face heat when you catch him staring at your tits.
“Damn, I’m going to fuck the absolute shit out of you tonight,” he breathes, smiling boyishly, betraying his age despite the soft wrinkles in his face.
“Are you?” you ask, one final taunt, pushing him over the edge.
“Oh, sweetheart. G’na have you crying for me,” he says, moving to hover on top of you on the bed. “You’re not gonna be able to fucking walk tomorrow,” he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe.
It’s quick and without warning when he slips two fingers inside of you, making you mewl as your hands tangle in his hair. He curls them expertly, he knows your body like the back of his hand by now, knows exactly what to do to have you screaming for him.
His eager mouth licks and sucks on your breasts, tugging your nipples gently with his teeth as your back arches. Your body accepts a third finger from him easily, sucking him right in as wet, filthy noises fill the bedroom.
“Eddie,” you whine, already on the edge of your orgasm. Your breathing is heavy, eyes pinched shut beneath him as he works you to your breaking point.
You cum around his fingers with a cry, body shaking violently as he works you through it. You feel like you’re on fire, his touch igniting every inch of you. All you want is more.
“Old man, huh?” Eddie muses as you come down from your first high of the evening. “Looks like this old man still knows how to please. So do you wanna call me that again, sweetheart?”
You shake your head, knowing you’re already in for quite the night.
“Good,” he says, dipping down to kiss your lips, your jaw, your neck. “Cause we’re just getting started.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x fem!reader#older!eddie munson#older!eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson blurb#leah’s got mail 💌
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Do you think you could do Sirius Black with the “I hate everyone but you.” Personality.
James is immediately alerted to your glum mood when you sit down without so much as a greeting, and he leans across the table with narrowed eyes.
"What's'a matter, Y/L/N?"
"Sirius is mad at me." You reveal drearily, wrapping your hand around the fork set at your place even if you don't feel like eating.
"Oh," James's brow scrunches, "Don't take it personal, babe. He's having a shit day, he heard from his mum. Nothing nice, I bet. Wouldn't let me see it. Just- he's grouchy with everyone today, don't let it bother you."
"But he told me to come back tomorrow," You recount, "Like he can't stand seeing me for the entire day! What am I supposed to do, James, we're set to study in the library at three. And- and I could help him! I could be there for him, but he's pushing me away instead."
James's brows raise, and a pitying smile works its way over his face, "Love. You're the kind of person that wants to be around people all the time. You seek comfort out when you're sad; Sirius doesn't. If you love him, y'gotta let him sulk for a bit. Then he'll come to you. And-" His nose scrunches, his brows wrinkled, "And all he said was 'come back tomorrow'? That's nothing. He told me to get my bespectacled arse out of the room before he shut the window on my head."
Your face contorts in horror, "James! James, that's so mean, are you okay?"
"I'm fine, darling." He snickers, "That's what I mean, that's just what Sirius does."
"Not to me he doesn't," You frown, "That's not okay, James, he should treat you better than that."
"He's having a rough time," James shrugs, "Doesn't bother me. He's all talk, he'd never do any of it. Just needs to blow off steam, y'know? And I think we both know why he tones it down for you, Y/N."
"I'm not special," You snap, reigniting the age-old argument between you and James that Sirius totally does not have feelings for you, not one bit.
"Right," James gives you an overexaggerated roll of his eyes, curls bouncing as he does so, "That's why he threatened to behead me and all he did to you was kindly shoo you away."
"Maybe you just piss him off more than me," You stick your tongue out at him, and turn to Remus for support as the boy sits down beside you.
"Morning," James takes the lead, shooting you a smirk out of the corner of his eye, "Talk to Sirius today, Moony?"
"Little shit told me if I didn't stop talking to him - which I only tried once, by the way," Remus groans, "- he'd 'mess me up' so hard my transformations felt like reprieve."
James's eyes widen and he tries tamping down a snort, tucking into his breakfast instead. Remus turns to you and your once-more incredulous gaze, scoffing lightly, "And I suppose he just told you to come back tomorrow?"
"That's exactly it!" James slams a fist on the table, a chunk of egg flying from his mouth that Remus shakes off of his hand with a grimace, "Moony, tell her she's special."
"I'm not special," You desperately try deluding yourself, shoveling your own forkful of food into your mouth as soon as you're done speaking, so that you don't have to answer to their protests, "He just hates you both."
#sirius afterwards shuffling up to james and remus with a scripted note in hand that you wrote#and you're behind him pushing him along like >:(( apologize#and they've both got the biggest shit eating grins on their faces as sirius grumbles out how sorry he is for being 'verbally abusive'#sirius black x reader#sirius black imagine#sirius black scenario#sirius black oneshot#sirius black one-shot#sirius black one shot#sirius black headcanon#sirius black headcanons#sirius black hc#sirius black hcs#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanfic#sirius black fic#sirius black blurb#sirius black drabble#sirius black dialogue#sirius black fluff#sirius black x reader fanfiction
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Text
It all started with Katsuki being dead-asleep and sprawled out and snoring in a way that most people would deem horrendously uncomfortable, and obnoxiously pleasant. Like an overgrown cat.
He was dead to the world until his phone rang.
Biceps twitching and flinging awake in the dark Katsuki’s dark red eyes cut across the grey light of his room to catch into the stark blue phone light that was buzzing like crazy.
Hands accidentally fumbling as he grabbed it he squinted with a surprised, “fuck.” Why were you calling him?
You were 2 years his senior and the resident babysitter/tutor of his neighborhood back in Musutafu. A smart student and pretty girl: one of the only babysitters his parents ever agreed to come watch him. Mostly because your death glare was one that could really rival his own mothers, but also bc Katsuki harbored a little bit of admiration and a crush on you for some time making him actually behave for you.
And as your name flashes across the screen pressed against his cheek he can only remember sitting at the kitchen counters and sharing orange slices as you quiz him for his practical exams. He hasn’t seen you in years.
Your voice flits through same as ever, “Hey Katsuki!”
He shuffles and sits up closer. His eyebrows peaked — you sound breathy and stressed.
“Hey to you too,” he growls. Another whisky giggle, “I know it’s late. I’m really sorry about that! It’s just — well your mother always tells me to call you if I was ever alone at night and I couldn’t think of who else I trust to call. . .”
His damn mother did have a habit of telling resident kids to call him in case they were in dangerous situations. A habit she always kept up since he was a kid; always making him walk with you and the other girls when school clubs let out. And now here he was a fledgling hero and Mitsuki was still telling extras to call him — I guess some things never change.
Katsuki could hear the faint music of karaoke bars over the phone. Already getting out of bed and rummaging through his drawers for a pair of sweats and hoodie. “S’ okay. Where’re you at right now?”
You huff a little sigh, “I’m out at the bar strip on the west side of the city . . . it’s a little chilly.”
Katsuki already has his feet in his slides and is heading out his dorm room, “I can hear your teeth chattering from here.” He huffs, “Now what’s the problem?”
“I’m just a little nervous . . .” You admonish finally, “Could you just stay on the phone with me, please Katsuki? It’s really kinda sketchy out here.”
He grunts, already stepping out the dormitory door and hitting the streets. “I can do that. How’ve ya been? It’s been awhile.”
You huff a little laugh, “College is fine pretty mundane to what you’ve been doing. I’ve seen you on the tv and in the news a lot recently. I’m real proud of you Kit-Kat. Your folks are too.”
Katsuki can feel his stupid heart leap at that nickname you gave him.
It’s because he used to give you kit-kats every year on white day — which wasn’t really out of the ordinary since you gave him chocolate on valentines, but you gave chocolates to all the neighborhood kids anyways.
And despite his parents teasing and his agony you never seemed to think much of it, ruffled his hair and gave him a cute nickname.
He chest swells with pride nonetheless. A particular school event was coming up and he finds himself mentioning it as he spots your form sitting under the bus stop and shouts into the night instead of the phone.
“I’ve got my year-three performance showcase coming up next week. If you wanna come watch I can definitely get you tickets next to my folks.”
Your eyes go wide and flit over to his figure in the darkness. And the first thing Katsuki can’t help but think is that you look pretty.
Your arms are crossed over your chest and the black corset top you’re wearing. It makes your waist and broad shoulders pop. And as he gets closers he can see that it’s got the lace closures down the sides with cute little bows that you’ve tied. A pair of cream colored trousers and tall peep-toe heels underneath as you rise to greet him. Phone slack in your hand as you stare at him. The black straps of your top dangling over your smooth collarbone as you inhale, “Kats what are you doing here?”
Your head of curled hair — he’s never seen you with curled hair before — tilts like a puppy dog. He shrugs hands in his pockets, “Coulda asked you the same.” He says pointedly, you curl in and flush with embarrassment, “How much have you had?”
“Only a few. I’m still sober.” You reply with a shiver as you fall into step beside him, “Not as fun as I thought it was gonna be. My friends are still inside.”
At this Katsuki feels himself relax he didn’t think this was really your seen anyway. Especially with those friends he knows you’re referring to: the older kids of the neighborhood. “Yeah the rest of them are real pieces of work, babe.”
Babe. Did he just call you babe? Dunce face is rubbing off on him.
You notice, glancing to look up at him, but he watches you shake your head a little and dismiss it as quickly. “So what’s this showcase that you mentioned Kit-Kat?”
He huffs, taking the side closest to the street, “It’s a promotional showcase for 3rd years. Show the pros what we can do, explain our personal philosophy, our ambitions. It’s like a really big resume preview. It’s real important for getting yourself out there to the agencies although I already have good ties to some.”
You nod, bumping elbows with him as you dodge a streetlight, “seems really important,” you muse. “I’d love to come if it’s no trouble?”
Katsuki’s eyes are glued into your glossy lips while you say that, turning away with the tips of his ears pink as he grunts, “S’ no problem at all. I can get ya’ one tomorrow.”
You hum thoughtfully, “it’ll be nice to see you in action up close. I’ve watched your sports festival showings before — it makes me want s’mores.”
at this you giggle and lock eyes with him, “I let you do that one time.” Katsuki groans rolling his eyes.
“Still the best ones I ever had!”
He chuckles nudging you with his shoulder. You beam ear-to-ear and his heart pitters as you loop an arm through his to steady yourself, “I can’t believe we’re both so grown-up now.” And here you go turning sappy on him.
“You know Suki’ I know you’re gonna be a great hero because you’ve always done stuff like this for me. No matter how often others tell you different, you send them to me okay?”
And you’re sniffling now, still shivering against his side as you prepare to fight off all the haters he has. He’s matured a lot since his debut, but they don’t say make a good-first impression for nothing.
He glances at you intelligent, well-educated, passionate as you are you weren’t gonna put up much of a fight — he still appreciates the sentiment. He grumbles a “thank you” into your hair as he walks you home in the dead of night.
#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bakugou drabble#bakugou fluff#bakugou headcanons#mha fanfiction#reader insert#mysteriesmusing#Totally random one today y’all I got off work sooo early this morning and wrote this#just a little blurb#I wouldn’t expect anymore of this idea
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