#Just a blurb

[nsharks]

Kinda nsfw buuut Ghost BIGGEST turn on is domestic. You're sitting there on the couch in nothing but his shirt, freshly showered, absolutely devouring your favorite meal, theres love bites around your neck and thighs from when got home. He's watching you and that little primal part of his brain is going off about how content and happy he made his girl. Immediately ready to have you again just to make you happy. Bonus points if your pregnant cause then he already can't get enough of you.

domestic ghost is so turned on by you <3

You're already awake when Simon trudges out of the bedroom. He'd only just gotten home from a month-long mission overseas, and he was still catching up on sleep.

But when his lidded eyes catch sight of you, sitting on the couch with only his long-sleeve thermal slung on, he feels properly awakened. It's a damning image. One that has consumed his life and heated his heart.

His shirt— too damn big on you, even with the growing swell of your bump. Your cheeks— a glowing beacon of content. You look blistered with happiness, sitting on the couch and eating a bowl of cereal, a hand idly caressing your stomach.

A baby. Fatherhood. Maybe those things still itched him with worry. But they also gripped him with a rare excitement. A nest of love cooped up in his chest whenever he brushed a hand to your belly.

And perhaps it's something primal— something about the jarring domesticity of it. But the sight of his pregnant girl in his shirt, little marks on the bit of your collarbone where he'd nibbled the night before, makes him ache.

So when you do notice him enter the living room, you don't have the chance for even a good morning before he's knelt on the floor in front of you. A stance of worship. His hands lazily take hold of your knees to part you open.

He eats you out like this.

Right here.

One hand slips under the shirt you've got on to cup the underside of your stomach while the other hand spreads your folds apart. His mask is long gone at this point. There's no desire to hide from you. His tongue is your disciple. It finds home in the temple between your thighs and slurps and dribbles and glides with love more than anything. The taste of you is something sweet, something precious.

"Wanna make you feel good," Simon sighs into your cunt. Your hands have already found his hair. The heels of your feet propped on his shoulders.

"Wanna take care of you."

And he does, in every way he can.

[0mystic]

Bouncing on needy puppy boys' cock while they just babble about how good you feel, how warm you are, begging you to let them cum inside. They’ll be such a good boy they promise they just need to cum in you, need you to be thoroughly bred with their pups.

[shichey97]

After Eddie dies Steve just starts losing himself. He doesn't eat or sleep good anymore. He doesn't have an interest in things. He's just severely depressed. Everyone thinks it's because Nancy doesn't love him like *that* anymore, but no. It's much worse than that.

It's because when Steve was little he made friends with a brown eyed, loud, rambunctious, boy with a buzzed haircut and an imagination that they both got swept away in.

It's because when he was king of the school those same wide brown eyes watched as he bullied his friends and watched with such hatred that it burned through the shared cuddles and kisses of the summer before.

It's because those same brown eyes looked at him with such love and acceptance when their owner told him to give the bad guy hell.

It's because he knows his soulmate is gone and he never got to apologize.

[abbsaura]

Just thinking about how overprotective Simon would be with his girl because of his tragic past. And if the missus is pregnant? Much more protective if it’s possible. He wouldn’t let her going out without him or drink too much alcohol. And let’s not talk about working together. He DEFINITELY would take a bullet for you. Simon Riley is traumatised by the ghosts of his past, and he is scared of them coming back and taking her girl from him. So forgive him if he gets addicted to control you, he’s just trying to protect you and keep alive the person that gives sense to his life.

Fellt inspired, might delete later.

[editorofeverything]

Back on my NaLu BS

A little snippet of a fic, but I needed a pallet cleanser from how hard I've been working to finish my long fic and nalu has been plaguing me especially this week, so enjoy a sleepy nalu fic

Natsu stalked across the dark city, a clear destination in mind.

It was late—so late, not a single soul could be found walking the quiet city. Even the streetlights and half-moon high in the sky provided little light between the dark buildings as he stalked through streets and alleyways.

Natsu wasn’t sure why he needed to leave the house. He even left Happy behind in his need to go, leaving the blue cat to snore peacefully on their little cot. He didn’t even grab any clothes, marching through the city with nothing but his sleep shorts on.

It was just—Natsu couldn’t sleep. He was tired, and Happy’s snoring and mumbling usually helped Natsu doze off easily, but tonight was different. Every time Natsu closed his eyes, he thought of golden hair and brown eyes. He thought of a warm scent of vanilla and roses and something else that Natsu couldn’t explain except that it was completely Lucy. He waited and waited to fall asleep, but after a few hours of tossing and turning, Natsu couldn’t ignore the itch at the back of his mind that needed to see her.

So, there he was, following the instinct to find her in the dead of night until he was looking up at her apartment. If he woke her, she would yell at him and throw something, so he had to be careful.

He jumped up to her window, easing it open slowly.

There she was. She was tucked deep within her blankets, top of her head just barely peeking out, but he could smell her calm scent and hear the steady beat of her heart.

Natsu didn’t know what he was doing. He didn’t want to leave, even after checking in on her. Would she be really mad if he stayed? He didn’t actually want her to be mad, but it was hard to ignore the instinct that wanted him to stay.

A breeze blew in and Lucy shivered, even under all her blankets.

Natsu was inside closing the window before he knew it. Well, he was already inside. He might as well stay and deal with the consequences tomorrow.

He crawled into bed with Lucy, easing the blanket open to slip next to her warm body. At least she was wearing something this time—Natsu paused with the blanket in his hand, taking in the too big white button down that hung off her shoulders and bunched around her waist, completely covered in his scent.

He didn’t know why he paused on it. Lucy wore his clothes sometimes. Lucy wore no clothes sometimes. Why was it weird that she wore his shirt to bed?

She already had traces of his scent—they spent too much time not to have their scents muddled together at this point. Her apartment especially spelled just as much like him as it did her. So why did this shirt make him feel so strange?

Lucy made a noise in her sleep, shifting onto her side so she was facing him, arms somehow finding him and pulling him closer to her.

“What am I, a pillow,” her mumbled to himself, forgetting the strange feeling the shirt brought out and instead focused on the warmth of Lucy’s skin pressed against his and the calming intermingling of their scents. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.

~

Lucy woke slowly, warm and groggy and ready to fall back asleep no matter what the bright stream of sunlight beaming in through her curtains had to say.

“Hmm…” A deep voice hummed, and Lucy jumped out of her skin, snapping her eyes open to someone lying next to her.

It took a moment for her sleepy brain to understand, but it came to her slowly. The blankets had been kicked to the bottom of her bed at some point, probably because a salamander snuck into her bed and overheated her. At some point, Lucy had climbed half on top of him, pressing her front against his as she used him as a pillow and likely a source of heat.

Lucy… didn’t know how to react. She usually got annoyed or embarrassed when Natsu broke into her apartment, but she couldn’t deny in her sleepy state that she slept much better last night than she did in the past year.

Ever since Aquarius... Lucy just couldn't get to sleep, and even when she did, she couldn't stay asleep. Nightmares of losing her friend and her guild plagued her until she forced herself to give up on sleeping.

Natsu grumbled again in his sleep, arms coming around her waist just as he rolled onto his side, taking her with him so that they lied facing each other. Lucy blinked sleepily at his face, completely relaxed and breathing so deeply that Lucy couldn’t bring herself to wake him.

“I’ll yell at you later,” she whispered, tucking herself back into him and letting her eyes droop shut, just missing Natsu’s eyes slitting open. She fell asleep quickly, and Natsu tightened his arms around her and rested his head against hers before falling back asleep himself.

[answer2jeff]

posting old carmen berzatto blurbs i don't totally hate because i need to clear out my drafts

(part 1/??)

note : these are from September - October and aren't very good compared to the rest of my work. my sincerest apologies. regardless, take the fucking blurb i didn't write this in my public library for nothing!!

You let out an exasperated sigh as you wiped your wet shoes on the welcome matt outside of your apartment that read, "Fuck Off." Your best friend thought it would've been funny, but it mostly felt like a shitty joke that never landed every time you came home—especially this late at night.

You fished your key out of your purse, keychains and coins jangling around while your hand dug through every pocket. You unlocked the door, quietly walking in before searching for Carmen.

"Carmy?" You called out, closing the door behind you with the heel of your foot. The slam echoed through the kitchen.

Still no sight of Carmen. You took a seat on the couch.

"Baby," you call out once more, kicking your shoes off and waiting until he'd magically emerge from whatever corner of tour apartment he was in. You hoped the petname would lure him in. He was like a cat, quietly waiting for his only reason to reappear to come home.

"Hey. You're home a little late."

Finally, Carmen slowly walked out from your bedroom, seeking a little out of breath as his tight fitting, white t-shirt stuck to his skin. You smiled at the sight of his gold chain dangling as he practically scooped you up from the couch, enveloping you in his arms.

"I know, I know. I'm sorry, I just—" you took a deep breath, feeling your shoulders relax and your body temperature rising to Carmen's touch. "I was workin' on a project with the girls and I lost track of time."

With the renovation of the restaurant, his hours had become more flexible while yours have become more hectic. Being the one to come home at ungodly hours was nothing short of unusual.

"You get home alright? I was, uh— I was a little worried 'bout you." Carmen planted a kiss on the top of your head as you rubbed circles on his back, his rough hands carefully holding your delicate face.

You only hummed, "mhm," as you nuzzled your face into his chest, his arms around you and slowly rocking you side-to-side. He breathed deeply, taking in the smell of your perfume and Chicago rain on your clothes.

"How long did I keep you waiting?" You tried not to laugh, still feeling a little guilty for these nights; the nights you didn't wish you had to cherish. It wasn't easy for the two of you, constantly being out and about and hardly ever taking the time to relax during reasonable hours of the day.

"Eh, not long. Just enough so I could clean the place up a bit. Do a little laundry." Carmen rested his chin on the top of your head, quickly moving as you picked your head up in surprise.

You knew he liked doing little favors for you, fluffing up your pillows and throwing the sheets in the drier to warm you up after a long day— but you almost felt like crying at the idea that Carmen lifted the weight of keeping your space tidy off your shoulders.

"You cleaned?" You nearly yelped in utter disbelief, staring up into Carmen's eyes as he cupped your cheek, nodding his head "yes."

You peeled away from his embrace to flick the living room light on; it was practically spotless.

The coffee table was clean, every book and stack of paper neatly tucked away in the bookshelf. You stepped into the dimly lit kitchen, Carmen following behind; every counter was shiny and there wasn't a single dirty dish in the sink.

"You hungry? I can make you somethin.'" Carmen suggested, taking a seat on one of the barstools and leaning his back against the island counter. You spaced out, still admiring the sight of a clean apartment.

You couldn't remember the last time you did any organization, let alone have someone else do it all for you.

"Baby?" He snaps you out of your amazed trance.

"Huh? Oh— yeah, yeah. Please." You reconnect with reality while removing yours Carmen's crewneck sweater and tossing it onto the countertop.

"Wanna hop in the shower while I figure something out?"

The suggestion rolling off Carmen's tongue was soothing. It felt like his words are being massaged into your skin, undoing knots created by stress.

This was love. Tender and caring.

[klinefelterrible]

Me, to the Devil: I wanna play music

Devil: what kind of music

Me: maybe something full on gay?

Devil, rattling his papers: we already have Village Boys and the XX.

Me: what about something like gay but for the straight girls

Devil: as far as I remember correctly we have something called Cigarettes After Sex.

Me: damn it you’re right

Devil: how about something kinda gay

Me: like twenty one pilots?

Devil: you’re right, my bad

Me:

Devil: If you want to have a beef with everyone with your weird vibe you can always, uhm

Me: Azalia Banks

Devil: yup. Wanna be a hoe and make hoe music?

Me: don’t start with all that Iggy Nicki Cardi crowd, I don’t want any of it

Devil: gangsta rap?

Me: no

Devil: if you wanted to make a real music you’d be already doing some metal and cheering the devil up

Me: yeah well maybe one day

Devil: hopefully

Me: I noticed you’re avoiding talking about Weird Al Yankovic

Devil, crossing fingers: We do not talk about God in Hell. Bad mojo

Me: how about straight girl for gay dudes

Devil, mockingly: YASS QUEEN!

Me: yeah too many to choose from

Devil: and at least half of them saint already so

Me: is Lady Gaga a saint?

Devil: well, sort of

Me: what do you mean

Devil: both angels and demons call her Mistress

Me: oh

Devil: yeah you should be here for the Pokerface day which is literally every Thursday

Someone in the background: oh, woah-oh-oh-oh, woah-oh-oh,

Someone else with a raspy soviet accent: I get him high, show him what I got

Devil: OH SHUT THE FUCK UP ALREADY!

Me: mah-mah-mah-maah

Devil: how about my boot in your ass now, hm?

Me: so, uhm… no chances for music career, huh?

Devil: oh now you need to just buy a mac, learn ai and autotune and come back later when you need followers on youtube and views on spotify

Me: can I borrow two grand?

Devil: yeah why the hell not

Me: wait, no contract?

Devil: shit you’re right

Me: can I give you a blowjob instead?

Devil: okay

Two minutes and a lot of gurgling later:

Devil: can I give you a blowjob?

Me: do I have to pay you?

Devil: of course

Me: uhm

Devil: so, a contract?

Me: a contract?

Devil: you didn’t suck my dick for money, did you

Me: actually I did

Devil, handing me $2000: okay so do you wanna another 2k?

Me, kneeling: sure

Devil, giving me a scroll and a quill: oh come on what are you thinking

Me: now? a music career

Devil, rolling eyes: oh shut the fuck up and sign it already

Me: I feel peer pressured, but

Devil: a boot in the ass, then?

Me: and now it’s coercion

Devil: technically it’s a threat of violence

Me: may I remind you that I studied law

Devil: yeah and you sucked my dick before writing a contract so what does it make you

Me: a dreamer

Devil, kicking my ass so hard I got out of hell: name that your band. NEXT!

Me, waking up and not remembering anything but feeling cum in my mouth and my ass hurting, two thousand dollars in my hand: I guess I was in a gangbang…?

[heartbreak-sandwich]

Just a teensy peek at my Ronance blurb I'm working on rn 💕I'm so in love with them

You can read the finished post here!

[courtforshort15]

Would be willing to ever give us a sneak peek to one of your future fics? No pressure if you don’t want to, Tuesday just seems so far away for me 😭😭

Hi anon! Sure!! I'd love to do that :)

I was going to give you a small blurb from one of the fics I was posting the next week and the week after, one of which being the third installment of the Coffee Shop Woes series, but they're both on the angsty side, so I thought I'd spare you some sadness today.

Please keep in mind that this fic is EXTREMELY unfinished. I have some chunks missing, and it needs to go through a few rounds of thorough editing, so I probably won't post it for a while. But on the bright side, it's already at 8,000 words, so it'll be even longer once it's finished.

I present to you a fic in which reader meets a man at a bar, gets man's number, only to find out he intentionally gave the wrong number, leading to funny, random conversations with one Matthew Murdock.

I think it's quirky and entertaining, and hope you will to!

Without further adieu....Call Me, Beep Me

It's 6pm on a Friday night and you're home alone…again. An old re-run of a sitcom is on, the static hum of the characters arguing filling your apartment as you stare blankly at the bottle of wine perched on your coffee table. A small smile graces your face when a stupid joke hits your buzzed awareness, but it quickly fades.

You'd had such grand hopes for moving to the city from upstate, expecting new friends and an active social life. But you've failed to establish either, which isn't exactly surprising, when you think about it.

You're an awkward human being. Clumsy, random, so much sadness seeping from your pores sometimes that you don’t know how to connect with people in a way that always seems healthy. People sometimes shy away from you, as if already knowing you’re too much to handle.

You never know quite what to say, and when you do talk, you either say too little or way too much, never quite finding the right balance of what to share. In all your dreams of living in the big apple, you had failed to realize that moving wasn't going to magically solve your inability to socialize.

It's why Ryan had been a brief glimpse of fresh air, the random blonde man who had seemed interested enough to keep a fun, light conversation going while keeping his sole attention on you. Someone who had drawn you out of your shell, someone who had been able to get you to open up, even if only for an hour and a half. It was why you had been upset to realize he had probably thought you just as weird as everyone else.

But…Random Phone Man had somehow managed to stick around for a longer conversation the other night on the phone that you had been expecting, and it hadn’t exactly been unpleasant.

You down the rest of your glass of wine, looking for a little liquid courage, before you snatch up your phone, fingers twitching in some sort of twisted anticipation. You scroll down to your previous calls, unsurprised to find it relatively near the top. Between an absent father and abandoned friendships, your time on the phone is extremely limited. 

You press on his phone number, open it up in the text message format, and think about what you want to say. The words you end up typing aren’t anything special, more random than anything, but the wine flooding through your system doesn’t care.

Text Sent by Me: So…I was wondering if you wanted to be my phone buddy.

Text Sent by Me: Totally fine if you don’t want to be

When there’s not a reply for a few minutes, you put your phone on the cushion next to you with a sigh, but the phone has barely left your fingers when it buzzes.

Text Received from Unknown: I'm sorry, who is this?

You flush, the effects of the wine and embarrassment flooding your cheeks, deciding this was already a bad move on your part, but yolo and all that jazz.

Text Sent by Me: It's the random girl from the bar who someone gave the wrong number to

Text Sent by Me: We talked on the phone the other night

Text Sent by Me: Sorry, this was a bad idea. I'll leave you alone. 

Text Received from Unknown: You saved my number?

Cringing slightly, look up from your phone with a loud sigh, because now that you think about it, maybe it comes across as a little weird. You pour yourself another large glass of wine, and you’re not quite sure if it’s to help you move past the awkwardness of the random conversation, or to help you drown your sorrows at spending yet another Friday night alone. It’s probably both.

Text Sent by Me: I mean, not exactly. It's in my call history. I can delete it though and stop texting you.

Text Received from Unknown: It's no issue

Text Received from Unknown: What exactly is a phone buddy?

Text Sent by Me: Just something new I made up like thirty seconds before I texted you. I’m new to the city and don’t have many friends, so maybe we could talk sometimes?

Text Sent by Me: God, I hate how pathetic I must sound. Sorry.

Text Received from Unknown: If it makes you feel any better, I don't have many friends either.

You can’t help but snort. Men who sound like him, raspy and sarcastic and in control, usually aren’t the type who hurt for company. You imagine there’s a permanent smirk on his lips, eyebrows raised in question, face open in some sort of combined look of amusement and curiosity.

Text Sent by Me: So you're as pathetic and alone as me

Text Received from Unknown: Seems so

Text Sent by Me: Well sounds like maybe you need a phone buddy, too.

Text Sent by Me: You in?

Text Received from Unknown: What do I get out of it, random girl from the bar?

Text Sent by Me: The pleasure of my voice and sporadic text company? My dry wit? My random commentary on all things mundane that you probably will never ask for?

Text Received from Unknown: You’re really selling this.

Text Sent by Me: Part of my awkward charm

Text Received from Unknown: Sure, I guess.

Even in your (more than) buzzed state, you’re still somewhat shocked at the response. With a laugh that borders on manic, you reply, fingers flying over the letters on your screen. You have to retype the words a few times, misspellings frequent due to the way your hands twitch in something akin to excitement. You’re sure you look like a hot mess; cackling, drunk, and shaking hands.

Text Sent by Me: Really?

Text Sent by Me: Don’t sound so excited

Text Sent by Me: You really don't have to

Text Received from Unknown: SURE

Text Sent by Me: Now you just sound like you’re angry

Text Received from Unknown: If you are reading this text, does it really sound like anything?

You groan. He’s one of those guys. Maybe he’d prove to be just as much of a dork as you, filled with shitty jokes people can’t help but laugh at because they’re just that bad. Or maybe he’s just a sarcastic little fucker.

Text Sent by Me: Oh, what an awful dad joke

Text Sent by Me: I revoke my phone buddy invitation

Text Received from Unknown: Too late

Text Received from Unknown: So how does this phone buddy thing work? What does it entail?

Leaning back against the cushions of your couch, you pause to think for a brief moment because you honestly hadn’t thought the conversation would get this far. Your head swims from the wine, warmth coursing through your veins and stomach, and you hiccup loudly. With another drunken laugh, you turn your attention back to your phone, ideas stuttering across your mind. 

Text Sent by Me: Oh, you know. I tell you about the man I saw in the subway station who was humping a trashcan, you tell me about how much you hate your boss. The usual.

Text Received from Unknown: People hump trashcans?

Text Sent by Me: People will hump anything down there. No one really bats an eye

Text Sent by Me: Don’t you live in New York, too? Do you not use the subway?

Text Received from Unknown: Yes, I live in New York. And no, I don’t really use it. 

Text Sent by Me: I guess it's part of the NYC experience, but it's kind of awful. I use it every day to and from work.

Text Received from Unknown: Luckily I only live a few blocks from my office. 

Text Sent by Me: Ugh, I'm jealous now. What do you do?

Text Received from Unknown: I’m a lawyer.

Text Sent by Me: No wonder you don’t have many friends.

Text Sent by Me: Do you work in one of those fancy high-rises? 

Text Received from Unknown: Definitely not

Text Received from Unknown: My partner and I have our own law firm, so our office is pretty small. It’s just him and I, plus a friend of ours.

You’re mildly disappointed at his reply, but you push past it with a laugh.

Text Sent by Me: Oh, nice. How long have you been together?

Text Received from Unknown: We met back in college, so a little over ten years.

Text Sent by Me: Aw, that’s almost disgustingly cute. 

Text Sent by Me: Are you guys married? Got any kids?

Text Received from Unknown: What?

Frowning, you stare down at your phone, curious as to why the question had tripped him up. Tilting your head to the side, you type out the same question.

Text Sent by Me: What?

Text Received from Unknown: Why are you asking if we have kids?

Text Sent by Me: Because he’s your…partner?

Text Received from Unknown: Law partner

Text Received from Unknown: He’s my law partner

Oh.

OH. 

Text Sent by Me: Well I feel incredibly stupid now. I’m also drunk on too much wine, so take that into account.

Text Sent by Me: Please don't sue me for any emotional distress I've caused 

Text Sent by Me: That's a thing, right?

Text Received from Unknown: It is

Text Received from Unknown: I’m drafting up the paperwork as we speak

Text Sent by Me: Fuck

----

[pey-up]

CRIES SOMEONE LIKED A FIC I WROTE LIKE. A YEAR AGO.

[heavenbarnes]

thinking about your older bf!simon that cannot cope with being far from you.

when you’re in the shower, he’s sat on the lid of the toilet on his phone (watching those rug cleaning videos) enjoying your faint singing under the stream of water, the smell of your body wash on the cloud of steam- ready to pass you a towel or get your back.

when you’re at your desk, working from home or studying, he’s just on the other side of it reading the paper with one outstretched leg tangled with both of yours. he’s dead quiet when you’re on a call, just happy to be around.

when you’re doing laundry, collecting the clothes in the hamper and crouching to stuff them into the washer- turning around and accidentally colliding with a thick wall of muscle.

“sorry, love”

he steps aside but you can hear his soft footfalls as he continues to follow you throughout your home.

when you’re both watching something on the couch, what starts as his pinky locked with yours turns into his arm around your waist. that turns into your head on his chest, which culminates with you falling asleep in his lap with his cheek on your head and soft snores emanating from his lips.

when you grocery shop, you push the trolley but his chest is to your back, arms either side of you and hands clasped over yours on the handle. you can thank his military training for his uncanny ability to tell exactly when you’ll stop walking.

when he wakes up in the middle of the night, on a rare occasion when you’ve managed to slip out of bed without him realising, he’s immediately in a panic calling your name.

“in here, my love”

as soon as his heart settles, he realises the bathroom light was probably a dead giveaway. you’re taking a wee, you’ll be back in a minute.

that doesn’t stop a sleepy simon from leaning in the doorframe, shielding his eyes from the big light as he waits for you to finish up.

even on the short walk back to bed, you can feel fingers twisted in the back of your shirt- almost like you’re leading the way.

minute you’re both on the mattress, you’re being wrapped up in his arms, slotting you perfectly into the curve of his front- almost like you’re made for him.

(and you are)

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

kaminari complains to his friends about how gross it is that you and katsuki kiss every morning in front of your classroom door. like, have some compassion for the singles, yknow ?! his friends tell him to just drop it.

what they don’t know is the reason he kisses you every morning is to guess which flavor your lipgloss is. and he’s a little too proud when he gets it right.

[nascentus-morimur]

My header is my own picture btw 😈 took it like a year ago in my parents backyard hehe.

(And no, I will never be changing my header/avatar lol. If I do I can’t recognize my own blog and that’s a problem shdfhhffh)

[loserboysandlithium]

18+ hoes

Eddie’s hand is clamped down on your mouth firmly as he pounds into your soaked pussy. Not only is Uncle Wayne home but his entire college D&D party is seated outside in the small living room waiting for Eddie to join them.

Eddie knew they were coming but he couldn’t stop. Not once the two of you had started. What was supposed to be a quickie before his campaign night was now coming up on an hour.

Your moans are muffled by his large hand as you struggle to keep your eyes open. You want to watch him. You love seeing his face as he loses himself completely. Fucking into you like an animal. His brown eyes half lidded, drunken mumbles of praise falling from his lips, the sound of your slick coating his cock every time he enters you.

“So fuckin good. Feels so fuckin good.” he murmurs, slowing down his thrusts. He looks down, watching as he pulls his long cock out, glistening with your cum. He pulls out almost completely before slamming back into you with a force so rough you scream into his hand.

Eddie chuckles darkly as nothing but a squeak escapes through his fingers. “Gotta be quiet, princess. We’ve got company.” he teases cruelly before he’s back at it. Shoving his cock deep inside, making your eyes roll. He loves every second of making you lose your mind beneath him.

You struggle to speak, mumbling a single word against his palm multiple times before he finally removes his hand.

“Harder.” you finally breathe out and Eddie’s eyes darken as a beautiful smirk appears on his lips.

“I fucking love you.” he moans before fucking into you with every ounce of strength he has.

[3amfanfiction]

I fully headcannon that Simon Riley is the type to take anything you give him, regardless of the impact to his health.

“Simon, you’re home!”

He had just walked in the door as you take a bite of a cooling cookie. you grab another one and hurry over to give him a hug and kiss, then you hand one of the cookies over to him. “You’ve gotta try these. They’re a cherry cream-cake cookie that my coworker gave me the recipe for. Tell me what you think!”

You wait expectantly for him to try it, bouncing excitedly when he tells you it’s good.

you grin as you stuff the rest of your cookie into your mouth and hurry back to finish your last batch. Simon follows and sits at the kitchen table to visit with you while you finish baking and begin cleaning the kitchen.

Before too long you notice his voice start to go a little hoarse when he answers your questions. as he clears his throat for the third time you ask, “You okay? Do you need something to drink?”

“Nah, I’ll b’ fine” he rasps, standing and coming to give you a kiss on the forehead. “i’ll be back in a bit, lovie.”

Is out the door before you can get your thoughts together enough to question him.

That evening you’re laying in bed when the door opens and in walks Simon.

When he crawls into bed you turn to him and let out a “Simon!’ when you see him covered in hives “what happened to you?”

He tells you he went to A&E since he’s allergic to cherries. His throat was swelling up while he was listening to you tell him about your day and he broke out in hives shortly after he left.

When you grill him, trying to figure out what was going through his mind when he accepted the cookie without saying anything, he just shrugs and pulls you into his chest with an eye roll and a, “it came from you, sweetheart. What was I gonna do? Not eat it?”

Next || Story Repository

[nottsangel]

— porn link (cw: double vaginal penetration)

ever since that one drunken night where you found yourself in bed with your two friends, mattheo and theo, threesomes have become a regular occurrence— happening about a few times a week. as much as they both try to give you plenty of attention during those moments, you can sense their undeniable and almost intimate closeness from a mile away, despite their insistence that they’re simply close friends.

your suspicions were finally confirmed the moment they asked to try something… specific. usually, the threesomes involved one of them fucking your mouth and the other pounding into your pussy, or sometimes even double penetration with both your ass and cunt filled. however, this time they suggested trying double vaginal penetration— something you hadn’t done before. and while they kept telling you how good it would feel for you, you could see right through their convincing words— this wasn’t about you, it was about them.

the moment they both entered you, a sharp hiss escaped their mouths, gripping your trembling body tightly while struggling to compose themselves. it was an intense sensation they had never experienced before. for once, they weren’t seperated by your thin skin— instead, their pulsating cocks were pressed together, fully surrounded by the warmth of your cunt. both boys were in heaven, swollen lips parted in ecstasy, eyes fluttering shut as they thrust slowly, knowing that if they went any faster, they would cum in an instant.

and after that first time, they crave double vaginal penetration above everything else every time again, completely addicted to the sensation. they claim it’s because your pussy just feels so fucking good that they both can’t get enough of it— but you know better. you know it’s because it’s the only time they can rub their cocks together, using your cunt merely as an excuse to feel each other, skin on skin.

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decided to write a lil smth since you guys wanted to see the porn links i send to @rafesthroatbaby in the dms :p