#touch is Ed's love language

[follows-the-bees]

I did an analysis of the meaning of Ed touching Stede's chest, hand over heart, here.

But now I wanna talk about the meaning of face touches - and Ed's outfits - across both seasons.

Bathtub Comfort

The first time Stede touches Ed's face is when Ed is seeking comfort. After he opens up about him being the Kraken, killing his dad and his plan to kill him, Stede offers a comforting shoulder squeeze and Ed deepens it by lying his head against Stede's hand. It is an intimate moment of vulnerability for both, especially Ed and he doesn't hesitate to accept it.

While Ed is wearing his Blackbeard outfit here, he is also covered in Stede's robe, like just the thought of Stede's presence can be a shield to the outside world and Ed's internal emotional struggle. And to have Stede come in and physically touch him, his face, Ed is completely comfortable in this combination of both of them, their vulnerability.

This Is Happening

In the next episode, Stede points out food in Ed's beard and when Ed can't find it, Stede asks permission to take it out. He doesn't fully reach for it until Ed gives permission (the amount of consent between these two, especially in the second season is so special to me) and leans forward (the classic Ed leans toward Stede movement that continues throughout the show.)

Ed is also not wearing his full Blackbeard outfit here, he has stripped down to just a simple purple T-shirt and pants. And we know that purple comes out as Ed's feelings for Stede deepen. So in this moment, Ed is more Ed than Blackbeard.

This is a soft, tender moment that shows the growing feelings between them. Stede's voice is as soft as his reach and touch while Ed looks at Stede so fondly, openly vulnerable.

Beach Kiss Eins

The first time Ed touches Stede's face, is during their first kiss. As soon as Stede responds, Ed moves his hand to his neck and down to his chest. And the pattern of vulnerability, closeness, and gentleness continues.

Neither of them are wearing their normal clothes here. They are wearing uniform, tan ill-fitting sacks (foreshadowing). Their first kiss is not only bare with emotional intimacy but of their identities. They aren't Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate during this moment, they are Ed and Stede, two men in love for probably the first time, sitting on a beach, the combination of land and sea.

Let's move to Season Two.

Cake Toppers

Oh, the cake toppers. Those damn cake toppers. They are the embodiment of the two of them to Ed, who caresses the wedding cake topper resembling Stede so much that he rubs some of the paint off. And just like every touch between the two of them so far, Ed lightly grazes the figure in a tentative but gentle way that shows he still has deep feelings for this man no matter how many raids, rhino horn, or self abusive behavior he tries to use to drown out his pain and the Kraken persona that he has put on like a sea monster lost in the deep dark depths of the sea.

Gif credit

Stede's Dream

In Stede's dream about their reunion, the two comically Monty Python (can we call them Monty Pyrates from now on?) run down the beach and full body collide against each other rolling to get on their sides, where Ed is the one to reach forward and touch Stede's face. This is Stede remembering how Ed did the same thing during their first kiss and he is recreating this moment in a fairytale fashion.

Their clothing is once again notable. Stede is wearing a more traditional pirate costume, earring, and has grown a beard. While we saw sword training last season between the two of them, Stede does not truly start wearing one until later in the second season. This is him trying to become who he thinks Ed would want, not the bumbling semi-pirate, but the confident, killing pirate with facial hair and more down-to-earth look. Ed is not only portrayed in his traditional garb but he has his old beard is back, he is the version that Stede first fell in love with. (Stede loves Ed as Ed though, no matter what he wears.)

Moonlight Serenade

Their first kiss under the moonlight is tentative and is a mirror of the moon scene in season one.

This is the first time that Stede touches Ed's face during kissing of his own volition. Even when he was trying to bring Ed back to life in episode three, he held his hand and pounded on his chest, over his heart, trying to shock it into fully beating to life.

He's been dreaming of Ed as touching his face again like the first kiss, but instead Stede is the one who moves his hand to Ed's face, and deepens the kiss. Because Stede is ready for this, and he wants to show Ed that he is here, he is committed to them. It is Ed who pulls away and asks to take it slow, because he is the one who has to heal in this scenario. This is his season, his season to heal, grow, and learn to reconcile all three sides of his being.

When Ed pulls back, Stede immediately responds, taking his hands off Ed to respect his wishes. And he only touches him again after gaining consent to hold his hand. Once again, we are treated to their gentleness, hesitancy, but the underlying love they have for each other is present in every cradle, fingers through hair, consent.

Instead of like the first season where they walk away in different directions, looking back at each other while trying to puzzle out what happened, they walk away together, toward the captain's cabin, still talking about their day and playfully playing off each other.

Once again they are not wearing their normal clothes, particularly, Ed is not wearing his Blackbeard outfit. He is wearing a light-colored onesie made from a potato sack as well as a cat bell. A bell he purposefully makes ring in an adorable shoulder shake to let Stede know that he is coming in for a kiss - unlike their first one, where he almost surprises Stede with it. We don't see it, but I bet Ed thought that maybe if he didn't surprise him, if he hadn't kissed him but kept talking, Stede wouldn't have left him. He probably blamed himself for that, so he made sure this time that Stede knew what was happening beforehand.

Calypso's Birthday

They are both physically injured from Ned Low's torture as well as in mental distress here. Stede is having flashbacks of his childhood and blood on his face because this is the first time he has purposely gotten blood on his hands. Ed is upset at seeing Stede take this step, thinking that he has corrupted him. But once again, they both consent to this, Stede does not even move forward or kiss Ed until Ed nods his head and then physically pulls Stede against him. This kiss is a combination of the first two. Ed's hand wraps around and on Stede's neck like the beach one, while Stede's hand snakes its way into Ed's hair when he deepens the kiss. This is the first and only time we see their bodies align and touch at more than just the contact of hands and lips.

Later on we see both of them in a different state of undress. Ed's hair is completely down, and he's once again in a t-shirt, stripped down emotionally and looking at Stede like he's the center of the world as the colors of their love - red and purple - surround them, until Ed looks directly at Stede and the burst of yellow - his lighthouse - shines bright. Stede is already shirtless at this part, his vulnerability bared skin-surface level.

Beach Kiss Zwei

And of course, we reach the finale, where In general the number of touches has escalated; they have chosen each other, chosen to give this a try. Ed emerges out of the ocean and all three themes (the Kraken, Blackbeard, and Ed) play all in a row, because he took what Pop-Pop said to heart and embraced all three of his identities to save and protect his loved ones.

One hand is on Stede's face almost the entire time they are reunited on the beach, and after the first kiss and apology, Ed moves both hands to Stede's face, using that leverage to pull him in for a kiss, holding onto him for dear life. He doesn't let go until Stede responds to his "I love you" reassuring Ed that he knows that, and Ed can drop his worry about Stede not knowing/hearing those words before that moment. Ed smiles and moves his hands down, and if they weren't in the middle of a battle, he would have wrapped his arms around him, pulled him in to align with his body, and kissed him again.

I particularly love this one because we can see the desperation, especially for Ed during this moment. He clearly doesn't want to stop touching Stede, only doing so out of necessity at the end. Stede is quiet, that calmness that Ed needs, just enjoying being in Ed's presence "breathing the same air."

This is the first time that they are wearing their full identities while kissing. Covered in blood, having just dropped weapons used to kill soldiers to get to each other, only to touch and kiss each other with softness and love but also desperation.

This is also the first time they openly embrace each other. All season, things have been slightly off while they take it slow, try to figure out their status together and separate. They stand apart, but still facing/bodies turned toward each other, only a few inches away. And they never touch in the presence of others, instead only kissing in the candlelight of the captain's cabin and under the moonlight. But now they are under the bright sun in front of The Pirate Queen and countless red shirts, two who were making fun of the letter Stede wrote Ed before Ed dispatched them. And Ed even reaches over later to put his hand on Stede's shoulder in front of Zheng, offering him comfort and saying yes babe, I see you, don't worry.

They kiss on the beach!! combining the sea and the land - the lighthouse, kraken, merman, flightless birds now grounded- they are the MERMEN.

Gif credits

Overall, the touches exchanged between Ed and Stede are all laced in emotion, vulnerable. And as their relationship progresses, these touches also evolve enough that by the end, kissing or touching each other's face no longer needs a pause and explicit consent because they are comfortable enough to know each other and their boundaries.

But there is something particular about the face touching between them. It shows a higher level of intimacy and romance that is at the heart of our mythical beings who have finally found each other and met in the middle, combining land and sea.

I didn't include the touches previous to the bathtub, like Ed hugging Stede after the lighthouse fuckery, or during the party, first moon scene, because I wanted to focus on the face touching primarily since it offers more depth to their relationship. I did this from memory, so I apologize if I missed any.

[dean-winchesters-clit]

Stede's love languages are gift giving and acts of service.

Ed's love languages are quality time and physical touch.

They are going to be so bad at romancing each other.

[void-tiger]

Actually…? No. Tell me the odds. I need the likelihood of success and got nothing else to lose might as well try even if extremely unlikely. Because I need help sustaining the hope that everything’s gonna be okay and motivation to get there that I just can’t do for myself without burning out almost completely.

[mobydyke]

izzy hands

[rainylana]

“Don’t tell me no.”

Eddie Munson x fem!reader

summary: you and eddie fuck in an abandoned church.

warnings: prob the dirtiest smut i’ve written in awhile, imo, so enjoy!! warnings include, smut, sex in a church, dom/sub dynamics, sub space, pre-consented to as always, decrophylia, light slapping, dirty talk, it’s very hot in this church lmao, language.

You’re both giggling as you burst into the old church, the sounds of the doors hitting the wall amplifying with an echo. You squeal as you run down the isles, looking back as he chases you. His face squints, his legs beginning to cramp as he puts his hands on his knees.

“Ah, no more.” He waves his hand breathless. “I’m getting too old to be chasing you around, darlin’.”

You laugh breathlessly, sweat rolling down your neck from the summer sun. You look around the room, the church many years abandoned since it’s last service. There’s beautiful stained glass windows, empty pews and discarded Bibles on the floor. A large cross hung on the wall, catching your eye as you looked up.

“This place gives me the creeps.” You shiver, nearly tripling on a bible. “Why’d you wanna bring me here, anyways?”

He shrugged his shoulders, finally able to breath again. “I dunno. Thought it was cool. Wayne always said the place was haunted.”

You looked around and cringed. “Great.”

The room echoed with your voices, the walls chipped with old paint and rust, weeds that were starting to grow through the cracks in the walls. There were leaves on the floor, covering the old carpet that was in desperate need of a good washing.

You felt Eddie’s hand on your waist, his hand sweeping your hair to expose your neck. You smirked when his lips found your skin. “Oh, I get it now. You brought me here to fulfill some fantasy, huh?”

You felt him smile against your skin. “What makes you say that?” He muttered innocently.

“I should have known.” You relaxed back into him, the excitement of the situation making your belly heat up.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, angel.” He moves up to your ear. “I’m just givin’ my sweet girl a kiss, is all.”

You turn to look at him, noses barely brushing over each other’s as you lock eyes. You blink and so does he, eyes asking each other for permission to continue. His lips capture yours in a hot, desperate kiss that says I need you.

Your arms tangle around his neck, his wrapping around your waist. Your lips attack his, kissing him desperately, wanting more. His tongue isn’t enough, swiping over your teeth and licking up your saliva. It’s not enough. You let him back you up against the wall, the bounce of your bodies making dirt fall from the ceiling.

His leg parts your thighs, his own resting against your mound as he makes love to your mouth. “I can feel you.” He husks, hotly. The room, your bodies, it’s all so hot you can barely stand it. “You’re so warm.”

Your pussy flutters for him, the deep throbbing of your clit becoming an uncomfortable ache that needed to be fixed. You grab his face and break apart the kiss. “Touch me.” You beg, hiding your face in his chest.

He’s panting, laying his forehead against your shoulder. His cock is straining his boxers painfully hard, you can feel it against your clothed cunt. “Touch you?” He repeats, turning his nose to your neck. His tongue licks your sweaty, sun burned skin, before he’s pushing you back against the wall. “What do you say?” He’s gripping your chin, softly, yet enough to hold your attention, as if he didn’t already have it.

He looks at you sternly, seductively. Dominantly. Slipping into a role that you knew all too well. It made you feel small, but it made you throb every time it did. You instinctively rub yourself against his jeans. He doesn’t miss the action.

“Please?” You mutter, face flushing in embarrassment, or maybe it’s just the damn heat. “Touch me, please, Ed?” You push your weight down on his thigh, your mound resting perfectly against it like a puzzle piece.

He smirks, grabbing each one of your hands and pining them at the sides of your head. “Doesn’t seem like you need me for that, sweetheart.” His lips go back to yours, plump and pink that fight yours for dominance. He bites your lip, making you whimper into the kiss. “Fuck yourself against me.”

You open your eyes in surprise. “What?” Your voice is shaking for lust. “No, I-”

“Don’t tell me no.” He grips your face so hard your cheeks press together, giving your face a little shake. “Do as I say, or we’ll leave and you’ll get nothing at all.”

You’re whimpering at the harshness, the lust making you light headed and dizzy. You choke out a dry sob, embarrassed, as you rub yourself against his thigh. You look away, but he lightly taps your face.

“Uh-uh.” He disciplines you, giving you another light tap. “Eyes on me. Watch me as you fuck yourself like the desperate whore you are.”

It’s so hot, he panted out the words. It had to at least be 100 degrees in there. Your fingers squeeze at the hands that hold your wrists as you fuck your cunt against his leg. Your clit throbbing at the feeling of denim against the swollen bead. You moan, you can’t help it. You’re so hot and you feel so good, so fucking needy for him. You rock yourself faster, you’ve barely started and you’re already so close to finishing right on his thigh.

You keep eye contact with him, and he slowly inches closer to you to rest his forehead against yours. He helps you out, rubbing his own thigh against your pussy. You cry out, getting messy with your desperate rubs that attempt to get you undone.

“Good girl.” He praises you. “You’re a good girl, aren’t you, baby?”

You nod ferociously. “Yes, sir!” You slip into your submissive roll, sinking back further and further into your brain that makes you go foggy.

He stops you, pushing on your leg before you can cum, separating your cunt from his thigh. “Not yet, honey.” He let’s go of your wrists, hurriedly working to undo his belt buckle. “I wanna fuck that sweet pussy of yours.”

Your face burns bright in excitement, you’re nearly falling to the floor. He grabs your hand and urges you to follow him, bringing you to the closest pew and bends you over it, your hands resting on the old wooden railing of the seat.

“Hold on, baby.” He flips up your dress, pulls down your panties and slowly pushes into you so you can adjust to his size. A desperate moan ripples through you, your fingers gripping at the seat you’re bent over. You’re jaw falls slack as he thrusts all the way into you, that familiar, welcoming burn stretching you open.

“Oh, fuck.” Eddie praises after the first thrust, looking up to the ceiling with his eyes closed.

He pulls out and quickly switches the pace, now that you’ve adjusted to him. He fucks you fast and hard, messy and desperate, aching to please you and himself. Your legs shake so badly you fear they might fall off, you’re sobbing, hot, boiling tears falling down your face and onto the floor.

Your clit is throbbing, so you reach between your legs and messily swipe at it to dull the ache. His hands bruise your hips in a menacing grip, his hips snapping against your ass that had the room echoing with sensual, pornographic noises.

“Oh, god, baby.” His hair is damp at the tips from sweating, it’s dripping onto your back. He feels so good, his dick is throbbing and his belly is as tight as a drum. He’s so close to snapping that bubble, but he wants to give you more.

“Do you like it- when daddy, ah shit, fucks you, baby?” He’s getting messier, his voice is shaking.

You’re barely able to speak. “Yes!” You blubber, drool spilling out of your mouth that matches the tears in your eyes, the sweat above your lip that leaves a salty taste on your tongue. Each thrust leaves you hiccuping, sobbing. Your breath hitches when you body twitches. Eddie feels you, giving one last, hard thrust that his him busting inside of you.

You’re both releasing together, your pussy clamping down on his cock that his him spewing out curse words in the abandoned house of god. Your body is shaking so bad you can barely move, the tears haven’t stopped and it’s so damn hot.

He collapses atop of you, his body on yours as he fights for air. You’re slipping from your spot, making his eyes widen briefly before he stands up and catches you. “Woah, baby.” He says in exhaustion, heat exhaustion.

You fall into his chest and allow him to pick you up, your head lulling to the side. “You alright, honey?”

You smile, somehow manage to, your body rippling with the pleasure of his cock, his arousal creating a sticky substance down your leg. You’re not able to say anything, but you give him the goofiest grin you can muster, sticking up your thumb in a thumbs up motion.

He snickers and kisses your head, looking down to realize he’s still naked. “Fuck, babe, I gotta put my clothes back on.”

[skzdarlings]

Chan with ❛ that really does make you hard. i can feel you pulsing inside me. ❜

summary: your husband is a university professor. when you sit in on one of his lectures, it gives both of you an idea...

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: husband!chan, kinky professor/student roleplay, though reader is his wife and not actually a student. dom!chan, sub!reader, degrading language (stupid, dumb, slut). corruption kink, power dynamics kink. explicit sexual content. word count: 2380 words.

part of the valentine's day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

-

Chan is giving a lecture when you reach the university.   You kill some time and grab a coffee, ambling around campus and idling in corridors until your wandering leads you to his hall.  The main doors are propped open, likely for air circulation with the spring heat, and you smile at his voice spilling into the hallway. 

It is a big lecture hall.  He is teaching a beginner level so the class is substantially large, a couple hundred freshman packed inside.  No one will notice an extra presence.  There are a few empty seats scattered across the back row so you slip inside and quietly take one. 

You like seeing Chan in his element.  Your husband is something of a chameleon, spending his down time in hoodies and baseball caps, listening to music and giggling at his own goofy jokes.  You almost forget his professional side, his prestigious and academic character.  He loves his research and his work and his students and it shows in every remark and gesticulation.  

You adore him.  His passion and intelligence never cease to amaze you.

Though right now your loving attention strays to his appearance.  You must admit: your husband is a hottie.  You suspect the tittering co-eds in the first few rows are not as interested in statistical analysis as their rapt attention might suggest.

Professor Bang Chan stands at the front of the hall, dressed down to his shirtsleeves.  His suit jacket has been tossed over the desk.  His pants are pressed, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, but his neat black hair is just this side of dishevelled, like he has been running his fingers through it. 

You slouch in your seat and smile a cheesy smile as you watch him work. 

He looks around the hall as he lectures, attentive to every student.   In his perusal, his eyes skim the back row.  They stop on you.   

“And that’s why we, uh, ah…” He stumbles so noticeably that a few heads turn to see what caught his eye.   He laughs and waves, drawing their attention again.  “Sorry, sorry, as I was saying…”    

Your smile only widens.  There is a little flutter in your heart as your husband looks at you with a glimmer in his eye.  You rest your head on your fist and watch the rest of the lecture without any interruption.  

You stay seated when it ends and the students file out.  Chan lingers by his desk to sort his papers.  You just admire him for a moment, then you make your way down the aisle.  He lifts his head, smiling at you.

“Hey, stranger,” he says, shrugging on his jacket.  “You’re early.” 

“Yeah, I thought traffic would be worse.”  

“Hungry?”

“Definitely, Professor,” you say.  Your original plans were dinner, but you lift an eyebrow while smirking, suggesting a different kind of hunger entirely. 

It makes him laugh, a nervous sort of laugh.  You are charmed by the tips of his ears turning red, a testament to your ability to fluster your man well into your marriage. 

“What’s wrong, Professor?” you ask, reaching up to touch his face.   “Aren’t you hungry too?”

He stares back at you for a moment.  His gaze is resolute despite his faint blush.  You cannot help your delight. 

“Ooh,” you say.  “Do you like it when I call you Professor, Professor?”

He finally takes your hand and lowers it. 

“I’m a professional,” is what he says, which is definitely not an answer to the question you asked.  He kisses your cheek before you can protest his reply, then he winks and grabs his bag.  “Come on,” he says, “I just have to put some stuff in my office.  Then we’ll go grab dinner.” 

You suspend your teasing for the time being, talking about your day as you cross campus in the sunshine.  You take the stairs up to the office floor, winding around the labyrinthine assembly of empty offices.  It is quite late in the afternoon, plenty of people seemingly packed up and gone for the day. 

He unlocks his office and lets you both in.  While he goes to his desk to sort his stuff, you close and lock the door.  He does not notice your deliberate movements, still talking about mundane nothings.  You do love your endless conversations, whether casual or important, but right now you are less preoccupied with Channie than Professor Chan.  There is something about seeing your husband like this, smart, competent, confident, and so in charge of his space. 

“Baby girl?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow at your slow, slinky approach.  “What’s up?” 

You circle the desk and lay a hand on his chest, smoothing your palm down his lapel.  You swear his eyes somehow darken, narrowing in focus, his whole expression coloured differently than before. 

“What are you doing?” he asks. 

“I know you’re married, Professor,” you say, blinking oh-so innocently at him.  “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable… it’s just that I… I need…”

He lets you nudge him back onto the desk chair behind him.  He gazes up as you lean over him. 

“Baby,” he says, warningly, but does not move or push your hands away. 

“We’re all alone, Professor,” you say.  “The door is locked.  No one will ever find out.” 

“Ah. Is that right?” he asks, looking like he is on the verge of giggles.  He sighs instead, dropping his chin and shaking his head, playfully disappointed.  With another breath, he lifts his head, and your sweet husband dons a more predatory air.   

He does not even have to say anything, does not even have to touch you.  He just has to look at you with all that desire in his eyes, turning your insides molten.  Every dirty thought is plain in how he checks you out.

“I saw you looking at me in class today,” you say, breathless already.  “Did you think I looked pretty, Professor?”                                         

“I think,” he says, “I was impressed you were sitting there, actually listening for once.”

You open your mouth to retort, but he touches a shushing finger to your lips.  He shakes his head. 

“Nuh-uh,” he says.  “Tell me what you want before I throw you out of my office.”  He cups your jaw, his gaze so clearly centred on your lips. 

“Oh, please, don’t do that,” you say.  “I need you, Professor.  I mean, I need your help.”

“I think you’re beyond help, baby girl,” he says.  He momentarily breaks character to glance at the wall, then he looks at you with a quirked brow.  “We are at my work, maybe we should—”

“I know you,” you reply.  

Because you do.  You and your husband are no strangers to roleplay or kinky fun, your desires and boundaries and safewords known.  Your backside is still tender from a good spanking the night before, just enough to leave you squirming today.  You were pent-up before you even saw Professor Chan administering his lecture.  But now that you have, now that you are here, you cannot let it go.  And given the way he is looking at you, he feels the same way.

“You’ve been hard since I called you Professor in the lecture hall,” you say. 

“Since I saw you sitting in my classroom, actually,” he corrects.  “I could fill in the rest with my own imagination.  Just… looking at you…”  He takes another breath and looks you over.  His gaze is heady.  “God, you just get me going every time, you know that?” 

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you say with another smirk.  Then you pout, batting your eyelashes, as you sink to your knees in front of him.  “Please, Professor,” you say.  “I’m begging you.  I need a good grade or else.  I’ll do anything.” 

“Anything,” he says.  “That’s, ah… that’s a bold statement.  Are you sure about that?”

“Of course I am,” you say.  You clasp your hands.  “Anything at all.” 

“You know, a man who is not as nice me could do bad things to you, baby.   A pretty girl like you.  It’s like you want someone to take advantage of you, yeah?”  He cups your jaw and tilts your face up, looking at your mouth thoughtfully, smiling as he circles his thumb over your lips.  “They could be really mean to you,” he says.  “Make you do things you don’t like.  Maybe even hurt you, baby.”

“But you wouldn’t do those things,” you say with a watery sniffle.  “You’re a good professor. I can trust you.”

“Of course you can,” he says.  With his thumb, he tugs your bottom lip down.  It flips back up with a bounce.  “I’ll help you then, if you do what I say.”

“Oh yes, of course, Professor, anything,” you say. You start to stand when he puts a hand on your shoulder. 

“Naw, naw,” he says.  “You stay there for me.”

“On my knees?”  You blink up at him.  “What for?” 

“Tsk.  Baby.  You know what for.”  He pats your head like he would an especially dumb puppy.  “You’re just a pretty face,” he says, “but you’re not that stupid.  You know what you’re good for at least, don’t you?”   

He cups your chin.  Before you can reply, his thumb is forcing its way into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. You wrap your lips around it, staring up at him while sucking diligently. 

“That’s it,” he says, and slides free with a wet little pop.  “Good job.  See?”  He speaks with saccharine sweetness, completely condescending as he pats your cheek.  “You are good at something.”  He unbuttons your shirt with deft swiftness, your breasts already heaving in your low-cut bra when he pushes the material off your shoulders.  He laughs to himself as he says, “It’s just the only thing you’re good at is being a dumb slut, but that’s okay, yeah?” 

“I… I guess…”

“Shh, it’s okay.”  He covers you whole mouth with his hand, tugging you close while he undoes his belt with the other.  “You don’t need to talk,” he says.  “No one needs to hear what you think.  Open your mouth for me.   That’s a good girl.  Come on.  You can take it.” 

With a shuffle, he gets his pants open and partially down, enough to get himself out.  He is already rock hard as he guides you forward, sliding into your waiting mouth.  He grunts with deep, obvious pleasure. 

He lets you take over, sitting back while you suck his cock with expert knowledge of exactly what he likes, when to take him deep, when to lick and suck and swallow.  You stop for a breath and his cock smacks your cheek.  Then suddenly he is standing and taking you with him, wasting no time bending you over his desk. 

“Professor!” you say, pushing your ass out with your theatrically scandalized cry.  “Oh no, sir, I’ve never done this before, please, ahh—”   

He lifts your skirt and tugs your panties to the side, sliding his fingers through all the wet arousal there.  He slides two fingers into you easily, with no resistance at all.  He leans down and laughs against the nape of your neck.

“I find that hard to believe,” he says, fucking you steadily with his hand.  “I think I’m not the only professor you’ve done this for, am I, baby?” 

“Ohh,” is all you manage, out of character and genuinely moaning as he works you towards a quick orgasm.  “Channie, you’re gonna make me come,” you warn, wriggling. 

Your moans turn to pathetic little whimpers when he wraps a strong arm around you, locking you in place as he lines up behind you. 

“What’s that?” he asks, holding you tight.  It stops you from writhing while he pushes his wet dick inside you, inch by slow inch.  “I’m not Channie, am I?” he says.  “What do you call me?  Huh?  Dumb little girl.”  He swats your ass and you yelp, clenching around him.  “Try again,” he says. 

“Oh, Professor,” you say.  Then you cannot help but giggle, recalling his evasion when you teased him in the lecture hall.  The evidence of his desire says it all.  “That really does make you hard,” you laugh, breathlessly, “I can feel you pulsing inside me.”

You squeak when he pushes you down onto the desk, holding your hips as he thrusts into you with more vigour.  Then you are not saying anything, just moaning and riding out every quick snap of his hips.  You are not sure how he manages to find the softest, squishiest, more sensitive place inside you, every time, no matter the place or position, sending you hurtling towards to an orgasm at breakneck speed. 

“Oh, help, Professor, I’m gonna—”

“Me too, baby,” he says.  “All inside you.”

“Ohh, fuck—”  You come with a shuddering convulsion, twitching and clenching, your eyes closed as you pant into the wooden surface of his desk.  Your orgasm ends and he is still fucking you, drawing it out.  Your voice is guttural, low and breathy as you say, “Professor, be careful, we have no protection…”

He lifts you up, arches your back, and covers your mouth.

“I… told… you…”  He punctuates each sound with a hard thrust.  “To… be… quiet…” 

Then he drives into you and stays there, groaning into your neck as he comes and comes.   When his hand drops, you take in a gulp of air, shivering from the aftershocks of pleasure.  You are spilling out of your bra from all the jostling, your skirt in disarray.  You whimper when he pulls out of you, then again when he just covers you back up with your panties.  They are soaked in a second. 

“Maybe, uh,” he says with one of his funny, embarrassed, little giggles.  “Maybe we should stop by home and clean up before we go for dinner.” 

You giggle too, turning around to face him.  You fix your shirt while he tucks himself back into his pants.  He is already blushing and smiling that dimpled smile, looking all sweet and goofy as if he didn’t just fuck your brains out on his desk. 

“Good idea,” you say.  “That’s why you’re the professor.” 

He laughs.  Looking at you fondly, he cups your cheek and pulls you in for a long, tender kiss.    

[amuyyi]

asleep .

synopsis; hanni was never big on physical affection... until she wasnt.

trope; hanni x 6th member!reader, fluff!

wc; 1.2 k

cw; n/a

a/n; i still dont know how to write but i heart hanni so its fine its OKAY its COOL !! just been listening to yearning music and stuff so BAM. aLSO!! i was also thinking of making "asleep among endives" the song attached to this... but idk i love the fluttery feeling of laufey.

It was a known fact by many that Hanni Pham was not one for physical affection— especially in public. Danielle trying to kiss her during a livestream? Dani-ed. Hyein trying to ask for affection? Rejected. Softly. Hell, even your attempts were futile most times. 

Trying to hold her hand in public? Swatted away. Wrapping your arms around her waist while waiting in a line? She's whining out like you’ve just stabbed her. God forbid you try to kiss her hand or cheek (you’ve tried. She screamed.)

You were the opposite of Hanni Pham. Physical affection was one of your top if not the top love language of yours. Every living and breathing moment you had to be in contact with one of the members. Squeezing Hyein’s shoulder reassuringly during an interview, absentmindedly playing with Haerins fingers in the car, tapping and poking Minji’s back just to be a nuisance. It was just a natural everyday habit for you. More often than not, Danielle is the one to frequently reciprocate— she was just as affectionate as you were, after all. It wasn't uncommon to find the two of you within each other's arms, practically melded into one another.

You’ve learned over time that not many people are fans of being touchy. Unfortunate, but that's what Danielle was for. You had come to terms long ago that Hanni would never be interested in indulging in your neediness— not genuinely, at least.

… Or so you thought.

This week has been particularly rough. Back to back to back plans, on top of packed schedules for weeks on end. NewJeans is practically dominating the world, and though the attention and growth to your career was great… you were only human. You were practically still a kid. The world doesn't completely change once you hit twenty.

After what felt like forever, Japan promotions have finally ceased, and you alongside the girls finally have a chance to breathe. You collapse into your dorm bed, welcoming the plush mattress and blankets as you sigh. You genuinely cannot remember the last time you’ve been able to fully relax without an upcoming schedule looming over your head, let alone relax in your own bed.

allowing yourself to be fully enveloped by the blankets and plushies, your eyes close. The muffled sound of Hanni in the nearby shower lulls you almost hypnotically into a drowsy state, leaving you drifting in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes. 

you just about nearly knock out on the spot before you suddenly feel a mass slip into the bed with you. It was a fairly familiar feeling. Though, normally you were the one crawling into the other dorm beds, this was still a welcome experience. Too exhausted to open your eyes, you softly murmur.

“Dani… what’re you doing here…” you say, before subconsciously wrapping your arm around the mystery figure.

Huh. Feels different.

“I.. It's not Dani.”

Your eyes immediately shoot open as the sound of Hanni’s soft voice rings out. Surprised, you look down at the girl in your arms, who’s already settled comfortably in your arms, face buried into your chest. She seems to be avoiding your gaze. Her hair was still slightly damp from her shower, with the iconic bobbed wig set off to the side for the night. Her skin was cool to the touch, a welcome contrast to your warm contact.

A soft, almost nervous chuckle leaves your lips as you’re still caught incredibly off guard. “Han?? Whats.. what's up with this?” You try to pick your words carefully, not wanting to scare her off during such a rare event— but to be frank, you were never good with your words and on top of that, you were half asleep.

“M’just tired…”

You must either be dreaming, or this isn't Hanni. Maybe it's Danielle disguised as Hanni? Has Danielle finally managed to crawl into Hanni’s skin before you could? Damn.

The feeling of Hanni’s face burying deeper into your chest snaps you back to reality, and you hold your breath. Body tensing almost comically at this point. What do you do now? She's never willingly brought herself this close to you before. What if she’s just toying with you?

Very hesitantly, you slowly use the arm that's draped over her form to rub soothing circles onto her back. Much to your relief, the vietnamese girl seems to take well to the touch, letting out a soft sigh against your chest as she practically melts into your touch.

“I-Is this okay…?” You quietly whisper, and you get a soft, “mhm..” in response.

Okay, now you’re definitely beginning to overthink this. How does Hanni even like to be touched? Everyone has their own preferences on how to receive physical affection, after all. Physical touch is an art and a skill very few can master, and you were determined to prove you were more than capable.

Danielle had always been a fan of you playing with her hair— especially in its naturally curly form. Maybe Hanni would like the same?

Slowly, your hand begins to trail higher along her back, soon meeting her long, dark hair. You begin to gently card your fingers through the silky locks, resulting in a soft, satisfied hum from Hanni in response. The vietnamese girl was always the one to get the most interesting haircuts during comebacks, though she always made the effort to keep her natural hair as healthy as possible despite everything it's been put through. You don't even know how many times a new wig of just about any color has been slapped onto Hanni’s head. 

Slowly, your fingers find their way up to her scalp. Her poor head must’ve gone through so much– nearly as much as Danielle’s, probably. Massaging her skin softly, Hanni becomes boneless in your arms. She loops her arms around your neck, pulling you impossibly closer as her head cranes towards your touch. The gesture leaves your heart fluttering.

It seems like the touch is unfamiliar for her as well. Her movements are slightly awkward, but not uncomfortable. Neither of you decide to comment on it.

After being practically Hanni-starved for god knows how many years, you’re over the moon. You wanted this moment to stretch on forever. The shorter girl is practically purring against you at this point, absolutely relishing in your magic touch. Your legs tangled together beneath the sheets as your shared body heat fills the room with a welcomed warmth. 

Now relaxing a bit more, you can fully take in the moment. The scent of Hanni’s shampoo fills your nostrils– peaches and cream. You had gifted her that shower set some Christmas ago. Nice to see it was still being put to good use.

The darkness envelops the both of you as a comforting silence passes. Hanni’s warm breath hits your neck as you feel her breathing steady, seemingly enamored by your touch. Her body feels soft, relaxed, and absolutely perfect against yours.

You still weren't sure exactly what prompted Hanni to come into your embrace in the first place. Maybe this would be the last time. Or maybe after another long work week, she’ll find her way back into your bed within the night.

But for now, you two remain comfortably entangled and engulfed by one another, the sound of soft snores filling the air as you slowly drift to sleep, feeling nothing but warmth within her arms.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

The little face and hip tilt Ed makes after admitting he loves being called Stede's boyfriend. This man is going to thrive on the chance to be arm candy for a bit. Just walking around town on Stede's arm, no responsibilities other than looking pretty. Stede showing off that they're boyfriends at every chance he gets and Ed's body language just screams "you can look but only he can touch." It's Ed's ideal state

[gntlbrd]

IM SURE IM NOT THE FIRST PERSON WHOS NOTICED THIS but! when calico jack starts crying about how his crew mutinied him, ed goes to pat him on the shoulder but then hesitates, and ultimately puts his hand down. this is such a small detail but really emphasizes how during his short time with stede, ed begins to feel so much more comfortable with how physical touch is his love language. and so he goes to act on that with calico jack but remembers that’s not how “real pirates” or “real men” act. and then moments later after they decide to go to blind man’s cove, ed easily pats stede on the shoulder to show him he’s happy with the decision. again, small details but soooo important to the overall read of the show.

[ronearoundblindly]

Some Steve for you to enjoy 🥰🫶🏻

Gurl, this f***ed me up! I wanted to try to make it a snippet of Item 107 or The Cinder King, but the muses were just like "you know what you need? emotional damage." So now here we have my first semi-legit period piece (which has zero useful era detail eh) and truly is just the carrier for skinny!Steve love. Hint: It's thirsty, smutty love with hardly any plot ANGST.

Hello and welcome to Lexi's most self-indulgent fic ever. It's got everything: crippling insecurities about my real-life stuff, horniness unmatched even if there were sex pollen shot directly into their faces, and everyone is touch-starved. \o/ Enjoy! WC probably close to 3k but idk because I'm too afraid to look back at it. *slams post button*

Turned away again, Steve "4F" Rogers steps out of the recruitment center to see you standing there, staring up at the posters promising glory.

People hustle around you, several even knocking into you, but you remain transfixed, invisible. You're clutching your purse like a lifeline.

Down one step, worn-through shoes barely hiding every seam in the cobblestone, Steve has to get closer because that's the direction of home and a lonely, empty apartment he can hardly afford. He has to pass by. He has to, but then he sees the amber light reflect on trails of tears down your cheeks.

He has to stop.

"Miss?" Steve clears his throat, his own arm smacked by a rowdy man who then swats at your ass just as Steve tries to get your attention again.

You jolt and turn to him in surprise, hand flying up to cover a sob, sweeping to wipe the evidence of emotion from your face.

Fast--faster than Steve really processes--he's shouting for the guy to apologize before the guy makes to advance, Steve presses himself between you and the asshole still laughing at disrespecting you, and then he--Steve--is getting shoved into the alley with you still at his back.

It's dusk. The alley is nearly black. Steve can hear you crying but he's slipped on the stones wet from an afternoon rain. He scrambles to right himself.

Amidst the cries, he hears grunts of anger and resistance, terror creeping into his chest as Steve thinks you're being assaulted.

"Piece of shit," you bite out. The silhouette of you hurling your bag at the man's face repeatedly is clear from where Steve crouches, backlit as you are by the movie theater marquee.

Then the guy is down on the ground, too, being stomped on by your two-inch heel. "Piece of fucking shit."

"Woah," Steve jumps forward to hold you back. "Woah, language, ma'am. Let's go. Just leave him."

He has a weak arm around your waist, but you kick at the man one more time for good measure, hissing "liar" before turning to follow.

Your hand in his, Steve hurries through the streets, picking the ones he knows are busier but maneuverable to make sure you're not being pursued. Each time he looks back, he sees your sinking face, more tears, more exhaustion, and he makes a flash decision.

He doesn't stop until he locks the door of his apartment behind you both, and you break down on the bare wood floor.

"You hurt? Did he hurt you?" Steve's boney knees land a few inches from yours and he leans over, his long fingers brushing over your pinned hair and stiff curls that dislodged in the commotion. "You're alright. You're safe here."

Where your legs crumple underneath you, your slip lays over your thigh, uncovered by the skirt pooling on the other side of your hip. He can see the outline of a garter strap and the top of your stocking beneath the silky material. Steve's always loved pretty, delicate things. He also loves the faint bulge of flesh around the restraints.

There's meat on your bones, something to hold onto, and he shakes his head, chastising himself for noticing all the wrong things about the crying woman in his home. His lonely, empty home.

Steve attempts to think of anything other than your body.

"Do you know him? What'd you call him a liar for?"

You sigh in defeat, hands flopping into your lap, and confess that it wasn't about him so much as a man not here anymore. Gone. To war. You tell Steve a rambling tale of excuses and snide comments, of a parting that left you wondering why that man--any man--bothered to be with you in the first place, of a surety that you weren't ever wanted.

"I thought he loved me but he lied."

Steve sits cross-legged in front of you now, enthralled and utterly confused. Why would anyone...?

"That's the worst part," you exclaim, voice cracking. "I don't know. I'll never know." Your fingers fiddle with the hem of your skirt. "I heard today that he died. Don't know where. Don't know when. And I hate that I still care."

"But he wasn't good to you," Steve soothes and wraps his hand around yours, "and he wasn't good for you."

All you do is shrug and hide your face. Tears falls to the fabric below your eyes and seep through in dark patches.

He scoots forward and lifts your chin with a gentle nudge. When your puffy red eyes meet his, he's struck by how lucky he feels to see you like this. It's odd to think someone who knew you more and for so much longer couldn't feel infinitely more attached and protective. You're so vulnerable, so open, so...

"You're beautiful." Steve's tongue swipes over his dry lips. "You're so beautiful."

The words are loaded heavier than tanks and pack the punch of a bomb. He can tell you don't truly hear him by the way you shrink and shake your head out of his hold.

"Don't do that," he pleads. "Please don't hide from me."

"You don't know me."

"No, but I--"

"You don't even know my name!"

He sits back and offers his hand.

"Hi, I'm Steve. It's nice to meet you, and I think you're beautiful."

"That's stupid," you lash out, bitterly spitting the half-hearted, heart-breaking words. "You must be an idiot, Steve."

It's not the first time he's heard it, but it is the first time he's not mad at hearing it. He believed those things, too, long ago, before his mom convinced him to see the possibilities in one's struggles. If you perceive it as an obstacle, it is an obstacle. Perceive it as an opportunity instead and use it. Those aren't her exact words, but Sarah Rogers has so many different ways of teaching the same fundamental lessons that Steve can't remember the phrases anymore.

He can remember the feeling. He remembers seeing both obstacles and opportunities.

"Is it stupid to want to touch you?" he whispers. "Because I would love to touch you."

The question is purposefully leading since he knows from your story that's exactly what you long for. It'll be more impactful if he shows you he longs for that too.

Slowly--so slowly--his hand comes up to your cheek again, his fingers tucking behind your neck.

"I don't want your pity." There's still bitterness but no power behind it. You gently shift closer and meet him halfway.

He's kissed girls before, he's fooled around, and he has, in fact, slept with one girl. They went all the way--twice--which means Steve knows what it is to be pitied intimately. He knows what it's like to want something so badly you don't care what the motivation is.

You deserve to know his motives.

"I don't pity you." His focus falls to your quivering lip. "I want to make you happy." He's close. He's so close his breath rolls warm over your face. "I want to make you smile."

A soft whimper leaves you just as his mouth arrives.

"I want you," he says into the kiss.

Instead of fighting, you grab at his jacket, pulling him until you're both falling into the stand lamp. You taste of salt and something sweet he can't put his finger on. Steve resolves to put that on the list of things to find out about you.

He keeps kissing you as you both fall, the lamp now wedged at an angle by the side table. Despite the tangle of tongues, Steve keeps his hands to himself. He doesn't quite have enough answers.

"What do you want, beautiful?"

Hesitant as he pulls away, gripping worn leather like your purse in the street, your eyes dart between his. You're a dream beneath him, but that sounds too selfish to voice.

"May I..." Steve is already panting "...get you off the floor? More comfortable?"

Maybe you haven't been able to say the words, but Steve doesn't need more convincing to know you want him.

He could tell from the way you pawed at him. He could tell from the multiple times you crashed him into the walls along the hall to makeout more. He could tell from the way you melted like hot butter at his every returned touch, but finally, you two made it to his bed.

He'd be embarrassed by the lumpy old thing if there weren't a curvy, luscious dame standing with wide legs at the foot of it, letting his tie slip through your hands as he sits stunned.

Steve swallows thickly.

"Let me see you." It comes out as more of an order than the hopeful question he intended, but when he sees the command shiver through you, he feels six-foot-six and powerful as all hell.

You two share the burden of unbuttoning all of your layers, spinning you a few times to release front and back and side to side. His hands spread and roam to relish each garment, each moment, until you're top half is naked.

He stares, fierce blue irises muted by the dim light on his bedside table, 'beautiful' on his lips every second you spend with your finger yanking the knot of his tie and sliding off the bond. When you lean to pop his shirt buttons, your breasts hang in his face.

Steve stops you by your wrists, peaking up at you through his long lashes as he takes a nipple in his mouth. He keeps thinking it--beautiful--while his tongue sweeps flat across pebbling flesh. Each subsequent swirl has you melting again, pressing more of you to his face, dragging nails up his chest, sighing long and deep. When he switches to the other side, your fingers bury in his hair. He takes his time to worship you, tracing his own fingertips around the hem of your slip and garters.

He doesn't get impatient, if anything Steve feels greedy for wanting more, for praying this lasts forever, for needing all you're willing to give.

His teeth graze your skin in wanton lust, and you flinch in surprise, knocking you off-balance.

You fall to your knees on the mattress, straddling Steve's slender body beneath your hot core.

"Sorry," you mutter, wriggling to stand, forcing Steve to wrap his arms around you and halt your retreat. "I'm sorry. I don't want to hurt you."

"You can sit on me morning, noon, and night," he rasps. "I won't complain. I'll thank you, beautiful."

He groans pathetically when you relax, the grind of your ass making his slacks pinch tighter and tighter. Steve lets his head fall back on the sheets, eyes fluttering shut. The army might not want him, the world outside may forget he ever existed, but you see. He could get addicted to this feeling. He might get lonely without it.

Steve isn't strong enough to keep hold of you, but your weight never leaves, his erection still slotted between your cheeks. His mouth drops wide when your hips roll. Steve whines when you rise up enough to resume unbuttoning him. His lungs and heart go into overdrive, but even so, Steve doesn't want you doing all the work.

He flips you--using the sum total of his strength--and shuffles backward to stand, ripping the tails of his shirt from beneath his belt and shucking off his trousers. That part he could have been more patient for, but Steve smirks and brushes away the hair falling in his eyes, chest heaving from exertion.

He's pleased to see you watching him, ogling his body without judgment. You look like you want to eat him alive, and he is perfectly fine with that.

His palm lands on your knee to sneak higher beneath your slip, nimble fingers popping the clasps along your stockings and hooking through the band of your underwear. You lifting for him is all the permission he needs. Steve leaves your slip, garter belt, and stockings in place, and in a cheeky twist, he lets your underwear hang off one of your ankles, kissing your inner thigh, pushing your knees wider for him to fit.

He throbs in his boxers at the sight of your sex.

Nerves roil in his belly at the idea he is solely responsible for your pleasure. As he glances up to you, propped up on your elbows with a fearful and expectant gaze, he sees a poster promising honor and glory, a service to be proud of, and for the first time, he has doubts.

You see it in his eyes.

"Steve?"

He wants to participate and show that he's worthy of you.

This isn't about him though, and Steve Rogers is nothing if not dedicated anyone other than himself.

"Right here." He snaps back to reality, laying his hand to your thatch of hair and gently teasing his thumb along your folds. "I'm right here, beautiful."

It's an honor to touch you. He's proud of the moan elicited because he strokes over your clit rhythmically. The glory of watching you writhe is all his.

Steve's breath stays rapid as yours picks up. You're fisting the sheets, slick pooling beneath the pad of his thumb, helping him pick up speed. He dips into you, tests the breach while pushing his boxers down, and crawls over the edge of the bed. Like magnets, you guide each other higher till the pillows cradle you.

You're a broken record, repeating a desperate loop.

"Steve," you whimper.

"Won't ever lie to you." He captures your lips again. "Want you so badly. I'll want you all the time."

Steve doesn't understand why you won't talk to him, so he slows, eyes questioning and brow furrowed. You have to see. The light is right there.

Bottom lip trapped, you still say nothing, but your arms raise to his smooth face and plead in the silence.

He wants the same thing. He wants to feel. Not just the sting of rejection. Not just the slippery, rough stones through his shoes. Not just the empty ache inside. He wants to feel like someone cares whether he lives or dies.

You care even when you don't want to, but Steve can earn you, your care, your smile and your tears. He'll get up and come home to you every time. He needs you to come home to.

Otherwise, this is a lonely, empty apartment. Otherwise, he is a lonely, empty man.

Your hands bring him close, lips pausing just before contact while Steve sinks two fingers into you.

You gasp. His fingers curl. His thumb goes back to work. You kiss him with what little breath you can hold between muted cries until Steve notices your roving hands tug at his waist.

He wants the same thing.

Sitting back on his heels, Steve drapes your thighs over his, his slick fingers spreading you. He's mesmerized watching his cock disappear inch by inch, and the caress of your walls shuts down all other brain function. All he can do is slide against you, bent into your soft body, your breasts padding his jerky thrusts, the base of him perfectly laving the hood of your clit in the growing mess.

You're wet, and he's driven wild by the need to make you come. He tries to sit up again, to play with you properly, but he's stopped by the weight of your legs crossed behind his ass, the strength of your thighs anchoring him in place.

Steve takes huge, deep breaths through his nose because he won't last concentrating on how your body bounces and ripples, plush beneath his boney form.

You get wetter, looser in a welcoming way that spurs him to drive himself home faster. He sucks in air, though it's futile once his heavy balls start to seize.

Suddenly, you shout, stretching to push yourself completely flush with his pelvis, and he has to pull out, keeping aligned with the cut of you as aftershocks make you mindlessly hump him. Steve's cum shoots all over his belly and your chest, some drops dampening what clothes he didn't discard, stains of joy replacing stains of sadness.

His chest might explode. He's gasping, taxed beyond his naughtiest dreams, head lolling toward the ceiling with his throat high.

He feels your legs fall away, and Steve hopes for an instant that you embrace him even though he might suffocate in the process.

The envelopment never comes. The world is fuzzy and too warm beyond him.

He hears the sink in his bathroom turn on just as he lands palms-down on sweaty sheets. He tries every trick he knows to calm down. The water still runs after all the time it takes for him to recover and stand. The closer he gets to the doorway, the clearer the sound really is.

Sobbing.

"Beautiful? What's wrong? Did I--"

The faucet squeaks off, and you barrel out, nearly running him over, your arms covering your chest and your disheveled hair hiding your face.

"What are you doing? Are you cold?" Steve tries.

"I'm disgusting," you hiss in a mad dash for the pile of clothes on the floor.

He trips over his feet to stop you, corralling you as best he can, but you're quick. You certainly have fight in you. Steve only want to show you you do not have to fight him.

"Come back to bed," he commands hopefully, grabbing your wrist as you scoop up your wrinkled dress. "I should clean up, but please, please, come back to bed."

There is something broken and fearful in the way you finally meet his eye. He's torn apart, shredded down to nothing in a single look. That's not how a feral animal sees the world; that's how an animal, abused and betrayed, locks the world out.

Your protection is what you really took off for him. Your thick armor is what Steve got past.

"I didn't lie." He lets go of you and steps back as calm as his rasping breaths can manage. "I want you. I want you to stay." He wonders whether he ought to cover himself, too, because perhaps total vulnerability makes you more nervous.

So he presents himself as an opportunity, not an obstacle.

Steve finds his boxers a foot away and says one more time, "I hope you stay."

Unmoving, your eyes follow his walk to the bathroom, and in the split second he's looking down to turn the tap, you're gone.

Disappointment floods his system, but like all the other stamped failures in his record, Steve goes through the motions of caring for a body that thwarts his desire to live at every turn. In fact, it tries to die so often, he's always surprised to find himself here, staring at this mirror again, wondering why he gets back up.

He's also surprised to find you here, in the bed with the sheet pulled up to your chin, nodding to the side table where you've placed a cup of water.

The tiniest of genuine smiles curves your lips.

Steve's home is neither lonely nor empty anymore. He could cry.

A/N: this got so incredibly out of hand... I'm so sorry. But also, thank you for reading!

Tags: @supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay @astheskycries

@rogersbarber @blogbog710 @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads

[catherinnn]

Fears and Futures

summary: After hearing Steve's comments about a friend's unexpected pregnancy, you become fearful of your own uncertain future and start questioning the meaning and depth of your relationship with Eddie.

warnings: language, unexpected pregnancy (not reader), not actual smut talks about sex, talks about unprotected sex, a little angst but fluff overall, hurt/comfort.

words: 1.1k

a/n: a little something just cause I felt like writing and I wanted a little drama. not proofread cause I was tired :)

He opens his door for you and you start feeling nervous. After he lets you in, you see he’s trying to greet you with a kiss, one which you stop before his lips touch yours.

He takes a step back and you see his face, filled with worry and fear.

“Eds, I came here to talk” you explain.

And now his face falls, he realized what you meant.

--

You’re currently at Steve’s house, hanging out with him Robin and Eddie.

“Hey, do you remember Rebeca Evans?” Steve asks.

“Yeah, she was a senior with Eddie and me” you answer.

“The first time I was a senior” Eddie jokes.

You and Eddie had been friends since high school —it’s safe to say you’re best friends actually—, it took Eddie a couple more tries to finish high school but he finally did it. ’86 baby! Now you’re studying and he started working as a mechanic.

A year ago you started some kind of… arrangement between you two, a friends with benefits kind of arrangement. It all started on a drunken night at a party and then you kept it going not only on drunken nights, but on your sober nights, or at any time for that matter.

“She’s pregnant” Steve announced, and then he complains when you say he’s the most gossipy of the group.

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, she went on a few dates with this guy but they didn’t really hit it off, but they kept hooking up a few times either way, and then it just happened”

“It didn’t just happened, Steve. Were they being safe?” Robin corrects him.

“She said they were, but the condom must have broken or something. Apparently they don’t provide 100% safety” he explained.

“God, she’s my age… and wasn’t she studying as well? She wasn’t working yet” you ask him.

“Yep, she was still studying. Imagine if it happened to you now, it would change your whole life” Steve comments.

“Yeah…” you start thinking how it would affect you, how much of an impact it would make on your life.

And suddenly you can’t stop thinking about it, fearing it. You’re not ready to have kids! But neither was Rebeca and then one day she woke up and she was.

The only person you’re having relationships with is Eddie, and similarly like Rebeca, you’re not in a relationship with him.

You don’t even really know if you want kids or not, but if you’d have them you’d imagine it at least be with someone you’re in love with.

Actually, let me paraphrase that.

At least it would be with someone you’re in a serious relationship with.

Because you do really like Eddie, but you know he doesn’t feel that way. So this arrangement was fine because of that, you know nothing more would ever happen so you’re not expecting it from him.

So for a few days you have been… you wouldn’t say ignoring him, but re-thinking some aspects of this arrangement… without answering his calls.

“Hey, Robs?” you pick up the phone.

“Fucking finally. Oh so you do pick up the phone to Robin?” You hear Eddie’s voice.

“Fuck- no, I was just waiting for her call. But I was gonna call you later” you lie- well, a few days can also mean ‘later.’

“Whatever, do you wanna come over?” he asks and you realize you are going to have to do this eventually.

“Yeah, sure”

When he opens his door for you, you start feeling nervous. After he lets you in you see he’s trying to greet you with a kiss, one which you stop before his lips touch yours.

He takes a step back and you see his face, filled with worry and fear.

“Eds, I came here to talk” you explain.

And now his face falls, he realized what you meant.

“Okay” he says either way.

“I’ve been- thinking a lot about this… Rebeca’s situation-“

“Oh, come on” he interrupts, “when Steve said it was similar to you it didn’t mean it was going to happen to you as well”

“But it could! Eddie, I’m also studying to become somebody, I’m also not working and with no intention on starting to soon, I’m also just twenty years old with no idea of what I want for my future, but I sure as hell don’t want a baby now. And it’s not like we’re being very careful, Eddie. For God’s sake, they were using a condom and it broke or just didn’t work, we’re not even doing that!” you explain.

“Okay, we can just be more careful, but we don’t have to stop all of this”

“That’s the other thing… she was also just hooking up with someone and now they’re bounded forever. She didn’t even like him that much and now she has a fucking kid with him!” you tell him and Eddie stays silent for a while, thinking of what you said.

“…Do you also feel that way?” he asks nervously.

“What?” you ask confused of what he means.

“Do you also… don’t even know if you like him?” he asks with a straight face this time, waiting for your answer.

“That’s not what I said”

“Okay, I’m asking you now” he kept insisting.

“Do you even feel that way?” you kept dodging his question. You weren’t going to admit to him that you liked him just for him to reject you.

He sighed, tired of this. “I fucking like you- I’m actually fucking crazy about you if I’m being honest. That’s why I’m trying to not break this whole thing up because it’s the only way I’m able to have you, even if it’s just sex and it shouldn’t mean anything”

“Are you- being serious?” you ask sceptical.

“Yes” he admits one more time.

It’s your time to sigh in frustration now, head back and everything. But because you can’t believe how stupid the two of you could be.

You run to him without saying a word and you see the confusion on his face, but you quickly grab it and pull him closer to finally give him that kiss. Only it’s with a passion and love that the first one wouldn’t have had, or maybe it would be hidden.

He kisses you back grabbing you by your waits and pulling you even closer.  

Pulling apart slightly, you look into Eddie's eyes where you find warmth, relief, and an unmistakable spark of love.

"I guess we've been idiots, huh?" you say, breaking the silence.

"Yeah, we have" Eddie replies with a small laugh, his eyes still locked onto yours.

“I’ll start taking the pill from now on” you can finally decide since now it’s no longer meaningless.

He smiles, leaning in to give you another lingering kiss, “Yeah, that’d be great”, he whispers against your lips.

[usedtobecooler]

hehe can you write an eddie x reader where he wants to have sex and the reader says they just wanna cuddle and eddie gives up and just accepts his faith as little spoon…

BUT THEN

the reader takes pity on him and jerks him off as they whisper dirty stuff in his ear (he is still little spoon tho) 👉👈

I JUST SAW A TIK TOK ABOUT THIS AND WAS LIKE YES EDDIE

wait no because i love this!!!

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), handjobs, dirty talk, dacryphilia, somnophilia, coercion and guilt tripping? (idk if it could be counted as that but i'm putting a warning anyway), sub!eddie, fluff, aftercare.

Word Count | 1.7k

A/N | i got carried away with this i truly apologise

Eddie loved to be looked after. He loved that your own love language was acts of service, you always aimed to care for him in any way he needed. Which, at this moment in time, was in the form of him being huddled in as the little spoon whilst you laid behind him, petting his side soothingly and attempting to lull you both to sleep.

He was making himself obvious, shifting his hips back and forth in a feeble attempt to shake your hand lower, have it brush on the waistband of his underwear. You'd had a long day, you were worn out, tired and in desperate need of a nap before dinner. Eddie's antics were bothering you, and you huffed out particularly loud in his ear in annoyance.

You move your hand back up to rest in the dip of his waist, squeezing a little, "Eds, please don't do this. I just wanna cuddle and have a nap, I really don't want to be touching your dick right now."

"Please?" Eddie's voice is quiet, barely more than a whisper and it's so child-like, pathetic almost, "Promise it'll be quick then we can go sleep."

"Eddie," Your voice is firm, snappier than before, enough to have him freezing under your touch, "I said no. If you don't want to have a nap, get the fuck out of bed and go jack off in the bathroom so I can sleep in peace."

The way Eddie whines like a wounded puppy makes your heart ache a little, your heavy eyes suddenly snapping open and a sad feeling sitting deep in your chest. You didn't like having to tell him no, you rarely ever did tell him no. Anything Eddie ever wanted or needed you were always willing to do, so for him to be rejected by you so harshly must've stung.

It's quiet for a moment and you can hear Eddie's breathing slowing and evening out, clearly giving up on the idea of you helping relieve him and succumbing to a sleep he so obviously needed.

For being so tired before, suddenly you're wide awake with a pang of guilt in your gut and the urge to help him. To give him what he wanted - what he needed. Your hand makes its way subconsciously down to the front of his boxers, the obvious tent still there from the semi he had before he fell asleep.

You gingerly brush your fingertips along the outline of his clothed dick, feeling it kick up a little in interest at the mere touch. You smirk a little bit, unable to contain it - Eddie was always so easy for you. Sometimes all you had to do was look at him and that was enough to have his cock hard.

You press yourself flusher against his back so you can reach around him further, dip your hand into his underwear to get a good feel of his bare cock. Even when it was mostly soft it was still big, thick enough that your hand struggled to wrap around it properly. Your cunt fluttered, thinking about how good he felt when he was inside of you.

Eddie grows hard without you really having to do much, a quick little half-hearted tug and a sweep across his balls having him fully erect. His breathing isn't so even now, somewhat shaky and lighter, your movements clearly rousing him from his sleep.

You're torturously slow with it, deliberately avoiding the mushroom head of his cock in favour of moving up and down the shaft. Not enough pressure to be really working him out, but just enough to leave him keening into your touch in a silent beg for more.

He moans quietly, hips shifting into your hand to try and get you to inch further up. You remove your hand from his underwear in an instant, pinching his side, "Hey, if I'm doing this I'm doing it my way, handsome. Be a good boy and spit in my hand for me."

Eddie whines, grabbing a hold of your wrist to bring your palm up to his mouth, a glob of spit leaving his open lips and sliding wetly into your hand. He shuffles his boxers down below his ass without having to be asked or told, letting his bare cock slap up against his tummy.

You glide your spit-soaked hand back down to his dick, deftly swiping your palm around the head to get it nice and wet, making the drag of your hand sweet against Eddie's flushed skin.

Every swipe of your hand down the length of his cock is slow, languid like you're doing it for fun and not to help him chase his orgasm. You liked to watch Eddie squirm, leave him a whining, panting mess under your fingers. He's quiet, clearly trying to hold it together and stop himself from speaking or moving. It's cute how good he wants to be for you.

"Poor baby, wanting attention so bad he had to beg for it," Your voice is condescending in the way you know Eddie likes, his cock confirms it when it kicks up in your hand, "you're my little slut, always so easy for me."

Eddie whimpers, feeling overwhelmed by the slow drag of your hand sliding up and down his cock so good, the occasional thumb over his head making his legs shake, "Y-you're so good to me," his voice is broken, wet and coarse, "make me feel so, ahh, g-good."

The way Eddie speaks has you clenching your thighs, wanting to give into him and give him what he wants, jerk him off fast and hot until he’s coming all over your hand.

Your fist speeds up a bit on his cock, twisting a little, thumb running over the head just to hear him moan, “That’s it, open your mouth and make those pretty noises for me. Love when you whine like a little bitch, Eds. It’s like music to my ears.”

Eddie grips onto your hip, fingertips pressing harsh little indents into your soft skin, enough to have your cunt fluttering. He’s crying, you can tell by the soft little hiccups he’s making and the way he sniffles. Your tummy flips, something so beautiful about having him totally submissive and at your mercy like this.

“What is it handsome? Hmm?” Your voice is soft yet harsh in the air, breaking up the noises of your slick fist working Eddie’s cock and his choked off sobs, “Y’need to come?”

Eddie nods his head, mass of curls running across your face at the movement. You take mercy on him, fist working him faster, grip tightening just a little in the way you knew he liked. Eddie’s moans fill the room, his hips jerking ever so slightly as he fights to lie still like you’d told him to.

“Bet you’ve been thinking about this all day,” You continue, hand coming down to run over his balls and squeeze ever so slightly before wrapping them back around his cock, “probably even got hard behind the counter at work over it. Fuck, that’s so hot. Are you that easy for me?”

“Yes, baby. Baby, you’re so amazing, fuck,” Eddie’s babbling nonsense, his whiney voice sounding almost pathetic, “please, don’t stop.”

“Really? I’m amazing?” You coo in his ear, teeth grazing the shell lightly, enough to elicit another beautiful moan from his lips, “Do you think you really deserve to come, handsome? After guilting me into this?”

Eddie bites out a wet sob, nodding his head, “Please, sweetheart. M’begging here, please.” His voice is absolutely wrecked, has you moaning in his ear in return, loving the fact that you made him like this only from your hand.

The slick sounds of your hand on his cock are filthy, the precum running from his head dripping all down his shaft and over your fingers. He’s weak for you, always has been.

“Come for me, pretty boy. Make a mess of my hand and the sheets.” You barely get the words out and Eddie is hunching in on himself, coming fast and hard with a wet cry of your name.

You gasp in shock as you feel his release running all down your tight fist, working him through it until he’s shaking a little in your arms. It feels like a lot, leaves your fingers soaked and dripping.

When you eventually release his cock he whimpers at the loss of friction, blindly searching for you. You sit up, slipping your shirt over your head to use it to clean up the mess. It was gross, but it was the closest thing to you and you really didn’t want to get out of bed.

Eddie flips over onto his back as you’re wiping down your hand, grimacing as he watches you, “You’re disgusting, that’s my good Zeppelin shirt.”

“It’s your jizz,” You quip in return, leaning over to clean up the mess he’d made of himself on his belly, thighs and cock. You don’t miss the way he hisses in pleasure at the movement, big doe eyes watching your nimble hands clean him up then throw the shirt away.

You discard the shirt by throwing it haphazardly off the end of the bed, flopping down next to Eddie and snuggling into his side with your head on his chest. Your fingers dance over the smooth expanse of his tummy, down his happy trail and back up. He keens into your touch, almost purring like a cat.

"Y'okay after that?" You ask quietly, worried you'd maybe taken it a bit far and crossed a boundary. You could be mean when you wanted to be, and you didn't want him to think you'd overstepped.

"I'm totally fine, sweetheart. Try and rest." Eddie's hand runs up and down your back, shoulder blade to shoulder blade, and suddenly your eyes are slipping shut, the feeling of tiredness overwhelming your whole body.

You’re not sure how long you’re asleep for but when you wake up it’s dark out, and Eddie’s got his head nestled in between your thighs, tongue licking at your wet cunt like it’s his first meal in weeks.

He gazes up at you with his big brown eyes, nose nestled into your mound and a smile spreading across his face “My turn to make you cry, princess.”

[ever-4sunlight]

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏 𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒄𝒕 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

𝑯𝒐𝒘 𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 (𝑯𝒂𝒓𝒃𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒐𝒏)

Includes: dottore, pantalone, childe, arlecchino

warnings: Sexuallity headcannons (my own opinion) and very bad English, mention of yandere actions in arlecchinos part

pronouns: none

1/2

𝑫𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒆

He is... Lets just say a little weird but talks much he will tell you about who he experimented on all night long you wont be able to sleep

If he is tired he gets annoyed easily so dont talk much when hes not in the mood

hes a smart person why should he do what you say? He will command you around

He will 'accidentally' test some of his syringes on you when your sleeping

He wont have much time to spend with you he has to work on his experiments! Nothing is more important then his job

If your to lonely he will send on of his clones to cuddle with you while he can work without feeling bad for not spending time with you

He is totally against kids why should he raise some idiots that will be disrespectful when they grow up?

Im pretty sure that when he ever has free time he wont tell you how much he loves you but will show you how much he loves you

If he hugs you his hands will be placed on your waist if he has time to touch you he will touch you

He will give you everything you want (no child) not personally of course he has to work so a clone will do that for him

possible Sexuallity: confusing me as much as kazuha. _.

His love language is probably: physical touch

𝑷𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒆

Hes tthe richest harbinger of all he will get you whatever you want it doesn't matter how much it costs everything for his love

He is working must of the time so he will send you little gifts

If he ever has free time he will probably go out with you doing whatever you want shopping or going to a restaurant he doesn't care he will go there with you

He would probably buy you a kitty or a puppy against the boredom when hes working

Buy you every type of clothing you want it doesn't matter to him how much it costs he has the big money

Hes not completely against kids but he's working to much to help you raising them and giving up his job is no option so think about it

He wont have much time to spend with you but he will feel bad leaving you alone all the time

As long as your safe everything is alright so he doesn't have to worry

If he comes back from work he will always have a gift for you and the hours you've waited

If he hugs your he wil lay you on his chest and just stroke your hair talking until you sleep

Possible Sexuallity: bi sexual

His love language is probably: gifts and words of affirmation

𝑪𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒅𝒆/𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒂

Here we go with our all loved ed sheeran also known as tartaglia he is joking around like a little kid he loves you more then everything in this world

He is definitely not the smartest of the harbingers after all he is the 11th fatui harbinger the weakest and the dumbest? Im not calling him dumb im just not calling him smart

He is a harbinger he has practically no time like the other ones T-T

But i swear to you if he has a free day he will attack you with affection cuddling you for hours and telling you how much he loves you not letting go until he has to work again

If none of his fellow harbingers are near he will talk about his brother and his sister while holding you in his arms

He will hold you by your waist having his chin on your shoulder whispering into your ear how much he loves you

He will Probably never tell you what things he has done because hes scared that you will hate him for the bad things hes done

He wants kids! 100% he just wants to see mini versions of you running around (if your male just adopted or just think in omega verse:D)

His sexuallity is probably: im not sure... Bi or pan?

His love language is probably: physical touch and gifts

𝑨𝒓𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒐

There wwe go with or harbinger mommy shes not only sexy but overall just the perfect definition of toxic<3 but we still love her and she loves you too!

She's VERY possessive and if i say VERY I MEAN VERY she gets jealous by having you just talk to someone else thats not her your hers after all

Shes cold... Not only are her hands cold but shes just someone who barely shows emotions but no worries! She still loves you

If she comes home its late and your probably already asleep but she just cant help but lean your head against her chest when she lays down beside you she just wants to have her lover close!

If you disobey her your probably getting locked into your room to keep you away fron the 'danger' outside

The only person she trusts you with is herself obviously shes the one she can trust the most shes a father! She knows what she's doing

When ttalking about kids shes neutral... Just keep the screaming thing away... But at the same time its hers and it needs protection and care

Shes not talkative so dont annoy her to much!

Her sexuallity is probably: i would actually say shes a lesbian._. But for the more judgmental audience i say bi

Her love language is probably: acts of service

[oneforthemunny]

treat me rough |rockstar!eddie munson x pregnant!nepo baby!reader|

prompt: you're pregnant. you're horny. you're fed up with eddie treating you like you're made of glass.

loosely based off the song 'treat me rough' by debbie gravitte. give it a listen to get in the mood ;)

edit by the amazing, talented, show stopping @eddiemunsons-missingnipple say thank you rn

contains: MINORS DNI 18+. pregnant!reader, degrading (light), spanking, language, p in v sex, aftercare.

"Is this how it's going to be for the rest of our lives?"

Your tone was biting, unforgiving and jarring; not at all what Eddie expected to walk in to. Your arms folded over your chest, resting just barely over the swell of your abdomen that was rounding more and more with each passing day, a reminder that your baby girl was on the way.

"What?" Eddie's shoulders deflated, tone dropping and falling at your feet. Long gone was the anger in his tone, the usual biting or demanding snap of voice that would've sent you shivering, shaping up at his first warning glare. He sounded tired, worn out, or maybe worn down.

It made you furious.

You growled at him, little bare feet padding as hard as you could over to him, trying to sound threatening. "Is this it?" You snapped, throwing your hands out at him. "Is this how it's going to be forever, Ed, because I-I can't fucking do this." Your voice wobbled, throat constricting. You were angry at him, at yourself for crying, just overwhelmed entirely.

"Baby, what are you talking about?" Eddie cooed gently, taking a step towards you. Inked hands cradling your face, Eddie tilted your chin up towards him. "What's goin' on? What's got you upset now?"

"You!" Angry, you pulled your face out of his hands. His sweet voice was making your nerves grate even more. "Holy fuck, Eddie, you are my issue right now-"

"-Hey." Eddie snapped, eyes narrowing down at you. You stopped, eyes lifting up to him hopefully. A tingle spread between your legs, a glimmer of hope that he might be close to giving in to you, to putting you in your place. You'd been trying for weeks to pull out that angry, domineering man you fell in love with, the one he'd repressed inside himself for the baby. 

"Take it easy, alright? Your doctor told you not to be getting worked up like this. Your blood pressure can not rise, or it can be-"

You slammed your hand down on the table, glaring up at Eddie. "Eddie, I am fine." You hissed. "Actually, I'm not fine. And it's your fault."

"My fault?" Eddie scoffed, eyes bulging at your accusations. "What the fuck did I do?" Eddie held his hands up, pausing, before taking a regulating breath to calm himself. Goddam those parenting books he'd been reading, they'd actually put some useful stuff in there.

"What has you upset, honey?" Eddie asked calmly this time, looking at you carefully. "What can I do to help you?"

Your nose twisted, bristling with rage. You spun around, picking up the throw pillow off the couch, launching it at Eddie's head. Eddie dodged it easily, brown eyes wide with shock. He looked from you, back to the pillow, then back at you.

"What is wrong with you-"

"-You!" You screamed, turning on your heel and stomping up the grand staircase of the Malibu home.

"Hey, hold on a second," Eddie was hot on your trails, heavy boots stomping against the marble. "You have to talk to me, alright? What is the fuckin' deal?"

"You think I'm disgusting." You sniffled, wiping your tears with the heels of your hand. "We haven't had sex in forever, and-and you won't touch me or-or act like you love me anymore. I get pregnant, and all of a sudden you're-you're just a different fucking person, and I don't like it!" Your chest heaved at the admission, blubbering cries that shook your whole body. You knew you sounded petulant and whiny, and not on purpose. You sounded like the spoiled brat Eddie used to mock you for being.

Eddie fought every urge in his body to not roll his eyes at you, opting to hug you close to his chest instead. He could feel your running nose, rubbing your face into his shirt, soothing the burn of your cry while his hands rubbed circles down your spine. He didn't want you to stress yourself like this, put yourself and the baby at risk.

"Princess," Eddie cooed down at you. You sobbed at the nickname. "I don't understand. We had sex this morning, baby."

"T-That wasn't real sex." You sobbed, breathy and broken cries back into the cotton of his t-shirt.

Eddie furrowed his brow deep. "Pretty sure it was real sex." He said sarcastically, flinching when you let out a high pitched cry that had his hands moving to your hair, rubbing it softly. That always calmed you down. "What do you mean it wasn't real sex, baby? Did you not finish?"

"Well, yeah, I finished." You snapped, rolling your eyes like it was obvious.

Eddie's shoulders tensed, fighting the surge of irritation he felt in his veins. He longed for his cigarettes, hoping maybe he could get you calmed down and could go have a smoke.

"B-But it's not..." You huffed, frustrated at the struggle to find the words, they were jumbled and caught in your mouth. "It's not how we have sex." You blinked up at him, lip jutting out in a pout that had his heart fluttering. "You're not mean anymore."

Eddie smirked, a small snort of a laugh that had you frowning. "Not mean? Wow, never thought I'd hear that complaint from you." Eddie hummed.

You huffed, glaring at him. "Eddie, I'm being serious." You said, rolling your eyes hard. "Do you not... Do you not think I'm attractive anymore?" You muttered. You couldn't watch his reaction, knowing even the slightest off-putting look would leave you spiraling, inconsolable with hurt.

"Are you insane?" Eddie snapped, huffing in irritation. "Hey, look at me." His voice was firm, sending an icy chill up your spine, eyes lifting to his when his hand cradled your jaw.

Your vision was blurry, sniffling back the snot that ran down your throat when you met Eddie's eyes, warm and brown and familiar. It always left your chest light and airy, comforting and content.

"Why would you ever think I didn't think you were hot? Have you seen yourself, baby?" Eddie grinned, eyes traveling down your frame, tongue swiping his lower lip. His eyes trained on the swell of your tummy, small but present. You could still hide the bump with a sweatshirt of a dress, but it was getting harder with every passing day.

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hands. "You don't act the same. I just- I don't want you to get bored, and leave me..." You admitted, cheeks flushing at the vulnerability. Your heart hammered at the admission, a quiet fear you'd swallowed down since you first found you were expecting.

It wasn't irrational, at least not to you. Eddie was wild, he'd always been a little deranged and electric, and his sex life was no exception. It's what drew you to him first, what brought the two of you together. Now, with the baby on the way, you worried your marriage would become another statistic- failed and leaving your baby with a broken home or with two loveless parents. The thought made you sick, you couldn't do that to her. Or yourself. You weren't sure you could live without Eddie. For all your independence, he was your world; you couldn't lose him.

"Leave you?" Eddie scoffed, eyes bulging. He sounded offended, angry, your full name rolling sternly off his tongue, making your cheeks burn. He was scolding you like a school girl, eyes hard and challenging on you. Your pussy throbbed, legs crossing to soothe the ache. It had been a while since you'd played like this- months.

"I don't ever want to hear that shit again, do you hear me?" Eddie snapped. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, you know better." His inked hand grabbed your jaw, squeezing your cheeks lightly when he pulled your gaze back up to him.

Your tummy fluttered with arousal, heart skipping at the familiar thrill. Eddie's face was hard, eyes narrowed down at you. "I don't know if you're just trying to get me pissed off, or what's going on, but let me make myself clear. I'm not going anywhere." Eddie's jaw flexed, sincere and stern. Your heart swelled. "The only way I'm leaving you or baby girl, is if the coroner is taking me away. Understand?"

You nodded, restricted by his firm grip. "You're mine, you little brat." Eddie sneered mean, but his eyes were filled with love, the same adoration those mocha irises held on your wedding day- all three of them, actually. "Think I'd want someone else? No fuckin' way, baby, you're it for me. I can't wait to have a million babies with you. Love you and fuck you for the rest of my life."

Your lip wobbled, swallowing the burn of tears that threatened to spill again. Eddie's face softened, grip loosening on your jaw. "You've just been pent up haven't you?" Eddie cooed, his hand snaking from your jaw, gliding over your soft skin and to your cheek, thumb swiping over the cheek bone.

You nodded pitifully, legs crossing and squirming. "I haven't been doing a good job with you, have I? Haven't been keeping you in your place, huh?" Eddie mocked lightly. "Been letting you be so mean for too long."

"You have." You whined pitifully, placing your hand on top of Eddie's, eyes rounding to look up at him. "I've been so mean because you won't pay attention to me."

"Oh?" Eddie's brow raised, tilting his head to the side at your omission. "So this is my fault? My fault you've been such a little brat lately?"

"Yeah." You pouted, nose crinkling with the hint of a snarl. His eyes narrowed at you. "It is, Ed, you wouldn't fuck me right." You huffed.

There she is. Eddie snorted, tongue rolling over the front of his teeth. "Is that right?" He challenged. He pulled you close by your waist, so you were flush against him. Your bump resting against his own tummy, the feeling of that stretched skin against his had his cock stirring in his jeans.

"I think you need to be reminded of your place, don't you?" Eddie challenged. "Reminded who you belong to, and that bratty girls don't get to do whatever they want."

You whimpered at his tone, heart rate picking up slightly with excitement and anticipation. Finally, he was going to give you what you want. Treat you a little rough and fuck you until you were screaming.

Eddie held your wrist in his hands, a tight grip when he pulled you towards the bedroom. You pouted slightly, but didn't complain. You'd hoped he would take you into the newly finished 'sex dungeon' hidden behind a moveable shelf in his 'office', but decided not to complain. Next time, you'd get him in there.

"You've been so mean. Saying all that mean shit to me. Who do you think you are talking to your master like that?" Eddie scolded you, lightly and enough to leave your cheeks flaming. He pulled at your longe set, loose and flowy, comfortable and all that fit with the ever growing swell of your belly.

Eddie smirked when he pushed your pants down, little lace panties that held a damp spot on the front. "I've been too easy on you." Eddie frowned down at you. "You've been a bad girl. Very bad."

You couldn't help but grin. Even while Eddie was chastising you, stern and mean, his hands rubbed the swell of your belly lightly, cupping the rounded skin protectively. Your heart fluttered, blushing and placing your hands on top of his over your belly.

"I have been." You bit your lip, lashes batting up at him. "I've been so bad, master."

"Hold on a sec before we start," Eddie paused, dominant demeanor falling for a second. "You have to stop me if it gets too much, alright? Just stop if you feel like somethings wrong the second something feels off."

You nodded. "I will, Ed."

"Safeword?" Eddie asked, like the two of you hadn't played a million times before.

"Bats." You replied with a light eye roll.

Eddie caught your chin in his hands, eyes dark. "Did you really just roll your eyes at me?" He challenged. The switch was flicked with him. Gone was the doting, sweet, lover you'd had for weeks, and back was your mean man here to put you back in your place.

You pressed your lips together, squirming under his intense gaze. "I-I didn't mean to. I'm sorry-"

"-No, you're not." Eddie sneered. "But you will be, baby, don't you worry. I'll make sure of that."

Eddie's hand went to your hair, tugging you by the root towards the bed. You whimpered, scampering with every tug. Eddie plopped down on the bed, legs spread wide on the edge. "I should get the cane." Eddie threatened, eyes dark when they looked up at you. "Should get the clamps, too. Fig your ass and give you the cane for how mean you've been. Especially when I've been so nice to you."

You whimpered at the threat. All the things you loathed; figging, the cane, the nipple clamps. You'd nearly safe worded on all of them separately, so together, you couldn't imagine. You hated the way you throbbed at the idea.

"I didn't-"

"No." Eddie snapped, jaw flexing up at you. "You've said enough. I'm sick of your mouth. Keep it shut, or I'm gonna gag you."

Your lips pressed together, postured straightening, an instant reaction to please him. "You know what I think? I think you just want attention." Eddie hummed at you. "I think you want attention, and that's why you've been so mean. Is that right?"

You stayed still. Eddie's hand cracked down on your tit, lighter than usual, but enough to make you yelp. "That was a yes or no question, so answer me." Eddie held his hand up when you opened your mouth. "I don't need to hear your voice. Shake your head yes or no."

You pouted, a shiver passing down your spine, your head bobbing gently. Eddie frowned. "That's what I thought." He sneered. "Knew there was a good girl in there somewhere. She just needs some help coming out, doesn't she? Need a little coaxing."

Eddie's hand was on your wrist, tugging you closer to his spread legs. "Don't you worry, angel, I'll get you back to being a good girl."

Eddie pulled you closer, guiding you gently over his lap. Normally, he would've yanked you over, had his hand wailing on your ass unforgivingly before you were ever settled, but he needed to be mindful of your bump. "That comfortable? Feel ok?" Eddie asked gently, rubbing a soothing hand down your spine.

Your chest filled with heat, cheeks flushing. Your bump rested between his knees, ass perched over his right leg, upturned and presented for him while your upper half laid on the bed. "'M alright, baby." You replied sweetly, a small hum of content, crossing your arms in front of you to rest your head on.

Eddie looked at you carefully. "You sure? Need a pillow or anything?"

"No, baby, I promise I'll tell you if it starts to hurt." You replied, wiggling your hips on his thigh.

Eddie leaned down, hand cradling you hip, lips brushing your cheek gently in a sweet kiss that left you blushing. His hand rubbed over the swell of your ass, mouth filling with spit. God, your ass had gotten fatter with the pregnancy. His hands kneaded, squeezing the fatty flesh. "Fuckin' delicious, baby, look at you." He rasped, a low gravely tone that made your thighs clench.

You whined lightly, every squeeze and grasp of his hands on your skin making your tummy flutter with heat. "Think I might keep you like this forever." Eddie hummed, spreading your cheeks apart, peeking at your puffy, slick lips. His fingers slipped between your legs, swiping through your drenched folds.

You mewled, back arching further at his touch. Eddie moaned loudly, swirling the fingers with your release around his tongue, eyes fluttering shut. "Christ, baby, you've never tasted better." Eddie groaned.

"Stop teasing, Ed, please." You whined, loud and nasally, lip jutting out in a pout.

Eddie's eyes flashed down at you. "Who?" He challenged, head tilting to the side menacingly at you.

"Master." You squeaked, shrinking back down into yourself in submission.

Eddie shook his head, letting out an airy, mocking scoff. "Oh yeah, you've gotten way outta line." Eddie snarled. "Went too easy on ya and now look," Eddie lifted his hand, palm cracking down on the center of your cheeks in a sharp, stinging smack. "You're just all sorts of bratty."

You gasped, had lifting and tilting back. You closed your eyes, relishing in that familiar sting that faded into a low burn, hips grinding subconsciously onto his thigh for friction.

Eddie's hand came down twice, one to each cheek, hard and loud. You squeaked, fisting the sheets. "I thought you'd be better. Thought I'd trained you better." Eddie huffed, feigning a sigh of disappointment. "But look at you. Still such a bratty little bitch, aren't you?" Eddie's hand fell heavy, four spanks on the globes of your ass.

You weren't sure if it was the pregnancy or the fact that it had been so long since he'd spanked you, but you were throbbing, that tight, burin gin coil urgently pulling tighter and tighter in the pit of your tummy. Every spank was heightened on stinging flesh, sending shockwaves of pleasure straight to your aching core with every sharp smack of Eddie's hand on your ass.

Eddie's hand found your hair, fisting it and holding it into a makeshift ponytail, lifting you up. Your belly dipped deeper between his legs, back arching. Eddie brought his hand down again. "You gonna finally be a good girl for me?" He hissed in your ear. "Finally behave?"

You whimpered in response, eyes pinching in pleasure. Your hips rocked against the fabric of his jeans, lip biting. Eddie's hand crack down hard, right where the meat of your ass met the top of your thighs, one hit for each.

"You fuckin' forget how to talk, huh? All you've done for weeks is ran that bitchy little mouth at me, and now you have nothin' to say? Answer me." Eddie sneered.

"I-oh!- I'll be good, master, please." You felt close already, and Eddie wished he could say he was shocked. You'd been so sensitive, everything heightened and electrified the further you were along.

"I don't believe you." Eddie scoffed, his hand fell on your ass again, leaving you gasping, lips biting to hold back your pleasure filled moans.

Eddie guided you down gently, hand pressing to your back. He was worried about straining your spine, knowing your lower back already hurt enough. Eddie's hand fell back onto your ass, mouth watering with ever jump and ripple of your fatty skin. His cock lurched at the jiggle of your pinked flesh, splotchy with his hand marks that painted your skin.

You squirmed, gasping at the assault. "I think," Eddie started, his hand falling rhythmically from one cheek to the next, over and over again. "That you haven't learned your lesson." You whined, arching into his hand.

Eddie knew what you wanted, he knew you better than anybody. Knew what your body needed before you did. He aimed his smacks a little lower, every hit a target to the center of your cheeks, hard and sharp, hitting the same spot every time. The spot that sent vibrations to your clit, shockwaves of pleasure building. He didn't deviate from rhythm, urged on with every gasp and whine of pleasure that came from your lips, hand tightening on your hip to keep you in place while you squirmed.

"You gonna be a good girl for me?" Eddie asked, taunting and mean.

"Yes, fuck, yes I will!" You moaned, voice cracking with the small shake of a cry. Emotional release you'd held in for too long mixing with the overwhelming need to cum.

"I'll be so good, Eddie! Soo good, please, just-ugh!- Please right there! 'M so close, so close...." You panted, toes curling, hips rolling, and face crumpling from the building pleasure.

Eddie didn't let up from the same spot he'd been spanking, the red glow coming from his relenting hits. "Don't lie to me, baby." Eddie teased. "You know I don't. like. liars." Every gritted word was annunciated with a hard smack, palm flat and cracking down over the center of your ass, his heavy hand covering a good area of your ass.

"Oh!" You cried out, the last spank to your burning cheeks making your legs starts to tremble. "I'll be good, I'll be good, I'll be good..." You chanted, breathlessly, eyes rolling back.

Eddie flexed his leg so your hips were raised, giving you a final hard crack of his palm, the one that had that tight coil snapping, ecstasy washing over your, leaving you gushing and sobbing from the sensation. The bubble of emotion popped in your chest, leaving your wracked in sobs, writhing over his lap. Eddie continued spanking you all over, alternating from light, playful smacks covering each cheek and the top of your thighs while you came down, shaking lightly from the intensity of the orgasm.

"You gonna be my good girl?" Eddie asked. He was more so lightly patting your reddened ass now, just hard enough to sting for a second over the already irritated skin.

Your eye were glassy, wet with tears, chest heaving and shuddering. "Yeah..." You whined, nasally and breathy.

Eddie grinned, pushing your hair out of your face, smirking down at you. You looked so fucked out already, eyes shining and glossy, lips swollen and pouty from your tears and bitten lips. Eddie's hand rubbed down your abused ass, the hot flesh skating over his calloused fingers.

"Yeah, I think so too." Eddie cooed sweetly. "You're my good girl aren't ya? Just need to be reminded sometimes, don't ya?"

"Yeah..." You sighed, just as breathy and dreamily as before.

"C'mere, lil mama." Eddie smirked, shaking his head. He helped you up slowly, pulling you onto his lap gently, cradling you against him. You could feel his erection on your hip, prodding into your skin from beneath his zipper.

Eddie's hands stroked over your cheeks, wiping your stray tears away, pillowy lips kissing at the salty, wet skin, nose nuzzling into the flesh. "My sweet girl, aren't you?" He cooed. "Feel better?"

You nodded, nosing towards his cradling palm. "Much better." You muttered, eyes lifting to him. "Thank you, baby."

Eddie smirked. "You don't ever have to thank me, baby. I'm happy to help, anytime." He winked at you. "That was ok? You feel ok?"

You nodded, brows furrowing lightly before looking up at him. "Are you not going to fuck me?" You asked bluntly.

Eddie laughed loudly, shaking his head at you. Still so bratty. He couldn't blame you. You were a woman who knew what she wanted.  "I was getting to that." He pressed his nose to yours, rubbing it back and forth against yours. "Have a little patience, hm?"

You gave a light giggle. "Not my strong suit, baby, you know that." You batted your eyes cheekily up at him.

Eddie scoffed loudly, nose pushing the air out harshly. "Yeah, no shit. Been with you a while, honey, I picked up on that." He chided sarcastically.

"Yeah? Must like it then if you stick around." You challenged, the hazy fog from your orgasm clearing lightly.

"Fuckin' love it." Eddie breathed sincerely, hand cradling your cheek, tilting your head back, lips hovering over yours. "Wouldn't have you any other way. My perfect girl."

His kiss was sweet, passionate- not the usual kiss you got after such a rough scene. Normally it was teeth clashing, lips gnashing and biting, angry and fighting for dominance. No, this one was tender, full of so much love, mimicking the night Eddie proposed to you in Malibu.

Eddie fucked you slow and deep, hips rolling into yours, body pressed over yours mindful of your bump. His fingers intertwined with yours, face in your neck, your legs around his hips while he rocked into you, deep brushes of his cock inside you that had you you coming undone easily over and over again.

You knew Eddie would be a great dad. You had no doubt about it. You only wondered how he'd handle two girls he could never say no to.

this one is for @lilpotatobean2 bc I know these two are your faves haha :)

[steddieas-shegoes]

98. “if we weren’t in public right now i’d have my head between your legs” 👀

READICUS. Okay. Alright. I've caught the context disease from you though.

Rated M | tags: language, flirting, dirty talk, so much discussion about sex they might as well be having it, getting together, FWB to lovers

😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉😉

It was just grocery shopping.

They were in a grocery store.

Eddie should not be getting hard watching Steve pick out the ripest bananas.

Like, genuinely, even he knew this was as ridiculous as it could get.

It's just that they'd been casually fucking for the last few weeks, letting off steam, just dudes helping dudes through their synchronous dry spells, and watching Steve pay so much attention to a fucking banana was a lot for Eddie to wrap his mind around.

Casually fucking might not even be the right term.

It was more like...fucking like rabbits.

Eddie spent more time at Steve's house than he spent at his own, and most of that time was spent either naked or trying to be.

He spent the night last night, and only agreed to come shopping with Steve after a very convincing blowjob against the kitchen counter.

It was working for them.

Except for how much Eddie loved Steve. Not like a friend, or a brother, or the way he loved his Hellfire minions. He loved Steve in the "would marry you in Vegas and have tons of babies with you if you wanted" way.

So embarrassing.

Especially taking into consideration that there was no way Steve saw their arrangement as anything more than convenient.

He watched as Steve finally settled on the perfect bunch of bananas and shuffled back to the cart that Eddie was leaning on.

Eddie leaned forward as Steve leaned over the cart, his lips brushing against his ear.

"If we weren't in public right now, I'd have my head between your legs," he whispered.

Which was bold of him considering the grocery store was packed with weekend shoppers.

Steve tensed, his body freezing completely as Eddie backed away, smiling and waving at an old lady glaring at him.

"What the fuck, Eds."

Steve's cheeks were fire engine red, his hands gripping the edge of the cart like it was the only thing holding him up.

"What? I just thought you should know how bad I want you," Eddie shrugged.

They flirted with each other all the time, that's what led to their situation in the first place: the flirting went a bit too far and Steve ended up on his lap, rocking his hips back and forth until he came in his jeans.

No big deal.

Just another day.

But never in public, barely even around someone they trusted.

"Here? Now?" Steve squeaked out, eyes widening comically.

"Why not? You're hot," Eddie's hand grazed his lower back, just enough of a touch to tease, not enough to really be noticed by anyone else.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Steve hissed. "You want people to see?"

"No, 'course not," Eddie smirked. "I just want you to feel."

Watching Steve struggle to find words, struggle to flirt, was possibly the biggest win in Eddie's book. If he could pat himself on the back for it, he would.

"We're in public."

"Stevie, I hate to say it, but being in public doesn't really stop me from wanting to get on my knees and suck your dick."

Steve's face got impossibly darker, only spurring Eddie on more.

"If I wasn't so worried about being walked in on, I'd drag you to the bathroom right now. Maybe fuck you in a stall. You'd probably like that, huh? You liked when I fucked you against the shower wall the other day," Eddie let his fingers trace along Steve's arm, subtle, easy to pull away if someone got too close to them.

"Eddie-"

"Or maybe you'd wanna fuck me. I know how much you like throwing me around and showing off sometimes. Think that would work for you?"

Eddie watched as Steve shivered, biting his lip and doing his best to hold back a whine.

"But we won't do that, right? Because only I get to see you like that. The way you fuck me, the way I fuck you, that's just for us, isn't it?"

Steve nodded.

Eddie looked around, confirmed no one was close enough to see, and settled a hand on the front of Steve's jeans.

"This is just for me."

"Yeah, just for you," Steve choked out, his hand grasping at Eddie's wrist to either pull it away or hold it in place. "Eds-"

"I know, Stevie. But we gotta shop. That's what you said when you were on your knees in the kitchen this morning."

"I can shop later," Steve gasped as Eddie's hand squeezed once before pulling away.

They were in public and there was only so much Eddie was willing to try to get away with, but Steve's reaction was everything.

He looked away, focusing on the apples in front of him as if he cared at all about apples when Steve Harrington was hard right next to him.

He froze.

He thought about everything he'd just said, how possessive he'd sounded, how he'd never quite crossed that line before.

How into it Steve was.

He looked back at Steve, who was still staring at him, face almost back to a normal shade, but lips bitten red and eyes glassy.

"Steve?"

"Hm?"

"Do you want that to be just for me?" Eddie should not be having this discussion in the grocery store.

"Do I what?"

"Do you want to be mine? Like, more than just...fucking?" Eddie should not be having this discussion in the grocery store.

"Is that...an option?" Steve was letting him have this discussion in the grocery store.

"If you want it to be."

Every once in a while, Eddie saw this look in Steve's eye, only ever when he was looking at Eddie doing something stupid or funny or when he was messing around with the kids.

He never let himself think that it was anything more than just Steve getting distracted while looking at him.

He could see it now, though, and he couldn't ignore what that look actually was.

"I want it. I want you."

Eddie was fucked. In more ways than one, it seemed.

"You do?"

"Why is that so hard to believe? You've practically been living with me for weeks, dude."

Eddie's lips curled down, disgusted.

"Don't call me dude, oh my God."

Steve laughed.

"I'll make it up to you when we get home," he winked, turning around and pretending that he didn't just make Eddie's brain short circuit.

"I- what-" Eddie sputtered.

"What? Can't handle my mouth? You handle it fine earlier."

God, Eddie loved this man.

"Stevie, how fast can you finish shopping?" Eddie started pushing the cart away, not even sure if he was going in the right direction.

"If you stop distracting me, ten minutes."

"I'll be in the car, then."

[rainylana]

“Goodnight, Ed’s.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: you’re stoned and drunk, so you suck eddie’s dick.

warnings: oral male receiving, language, smoking of weed, drinking.

You loved late nights like this. Drunk, stoned and watching tv. Pizza boxes and Chinese food piled up on the counters. It was almost four in the morning, the living room was glowing with the illumination of the tv playing Poltergeist, a smoky steam and the smell of weed and booze strong and prominent.

You and Eddie were sat side by side, watching, giggling together, stoned out of your mind. You hadn’t said anything in hours, just enjoying the company of each other. You’d been through so much together. High school bullies, the trauma of both of your childhood’s. You had shared that with him, and he, you. Vecna. What you both had become after Vecna.

You shifted your neck and looked over to him, smiling softly. His eyes were dropping. He was getting tired. You lifted your arm and played with the back of his hair, twirling the curls and watching him relax under your touch. He closed his eyes and hummed, too tired to thank you.

You rubbed at his neck, scratched his skin lightly and circled the area behind his ears, giving him all the attention and affection you could give. You stifled your own yawn, leaning over and swooping his hair over to expose his neck.

You gave him a sweet, soft kiss behind his earlobe, scooting close so your legs touched his. You kissed and caressed his neck slowly and softly, moving up to his chin and back down. He groaned happily when you nibbled on his skin.

“Baby,” He barely opened his eyes, peeking over at you. “You know I’d love to, but I’m…so tired.” He fought off a yawn.

You pulled away, turning him toward you with a single finger under his chin. “Then let me do the work, darlin.” You pecked his lips with a wet sound, not so gracefully falling to the floor in a heap at his knees. You weren’t near as drunk as he was, but the effects of the marijuana had you dizzy and giddy, and more importantly, ready to suck his dick.

You struggled to take his belt and jeans off, and he was too out of it to be of any help. His hands fumbled with yours, and you slapped him away so you could do it yourself, eyes squinting in the poorly lit room. Once you got his belt undone, you pulled his pants down to his ankles, and his boxers were the next to go.

Once finished with removing his clothing, you sat up on your knees and leaned over, pressing a kiss to his thigh, then switching to the other. You could feel him watching you. You licked his skin with your tongue, the sound of someone screaming behind you on the tv. The light of the screen made him look angelic, eyes slouched and red rimmed, shoulders hunched over, cock hard and ready for you to suck dry.

You looked up at him. His arms were folded behind his head, leaning back with a small smirk on his face. “Well?” He asked.

You blushed at the deepness of his voice. It made your pussy throb. “Just waitin’ for you to ask me nicely, Ed’s.”

He pushed air out between his lips, rolling his head back till it hit the sofa. The couch had seen better days. It was covered in stains of all kinds. “Please, honey?”

You hummed happily, tossing your hair back and twirling your hands against him. “Sure, honey.”

You wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, sucking and puckering so hard he nearly jumped clean off the couch. “Ah,” He whined, gripping the cushions beneath him. “Oh, baby,”

You took his length in your mouth, moving down his shaft until he hit the back of your throat. You wrapped your hand around the base, moving up and down slowly, puckering him with your lips.

Your other hand kept you held upright with his thigh, your head going up and down in a steady rhythm. He held your hair, wrapping your locks with his fist to guide you where he wanted. He sniffled, tilting his head to look down at you.

“So good to me, baby, god,” He whimpered, his thighs tensing underneath you. “That feels so good.”

You swirled your tongue against the prominent vain along his shaft, hollowing your cheeks so you could get every inch of him inside of you.

“Fuck, baby, keep doing that.” He squinted his eyes closed, his hand dropping from your head to fist the sofa cushions. “Yeah, y-yeah, that,”

He panted, looking up to the ceiling as he felt his balls tighten. “I’m gonna cum, baby,”

You did what you knew best and paid special attention to his tip, the space beneath and massaged him with your tongue. He cried out, spilling himself down your throat with a salty taste.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He cursed in cries, biting his hand with his pearly teeth. You sucked him dry, taking in everything he had to offer.

You smiled, wiping the corners of your mouth. His eyes were closed, chest heaving with pants and his arms cast lazily at his sides.

“Goodnight, Ed’s.”