This Is The Exact Reaction I Have Every Time I See This Man

ahem. men who stutter when they’re fucking you because you feel so good, who whimper thank yous in your ear because they can’t believe they get to be inside of you, who whine for you to kiss them and touch them and all of their rough persona seems to fade away a little because they need to feel as much of you as they can, they need your physical contact, sometimes you whisper that they’re handsome or that you love them and they whimper out that they’re not gonna last long, they’re so close, and knowing that you want them pushes them over the edge completely

reblogging this again because I noticed some minors interacting with my miguel smut :/

IF YOU ARE NOT 18 OR OLDER YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED ON THIS BLOG AND YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO INTERACT WITH ANYTHING I LABEL AS 18+

AND PUT YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIOS TOO, PLS!!!

hey guys, i just found a few minors following my blog and i feel like now is a good time to remind everyone that

my blog is 18+. if you are not 18 or older, please do not interact with my blog or my writing!

thinking about how matt eats pussy to show gratitude. he’s just so overwhelmed with how much he loves you when you do those little things to care for him and show him your love, that he resorts to doing the thing that he knows makes you feel good.

bring him lunch at work with the intention to not leave until he’s actually eaten because sometimes he gets too preoccupied and forgets to take care of himself? you’re getting bent over his desk and he’s spearing your pretty hole open with his tongue before you can say anything other than your initial “hey matty.”

fussing over him and some minor injuries he came back with after patrol? you’re getting pushed back into the couch, folded nearly in half, and he’s lapping at your twitching clit until you’ve come so many times that you become a wet, boneless mess under his hold.

wake up early in the morning as he’s getting dressed, even though you don’t have to be up for hours just so you can send him off with “have a good day at work, honey. don’t get into too much trouble. love you”? you’re getting yanked down to the edge of the bed and watching as your boyfriend kneels down and throws your legs over his shoulders to bury his tongue into your fluttering cunt.

LANI PLS THIS WAS SO GOOD, IM AN ABSOLUTE PUDDLE RN

A Seasoned Fighter

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Older!Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Summary: Just because the First Order dismantled, doesn’t mean the Resistance has stopped fighting for the freedom of the galaxy. You’re newly recruited and stationed at a base that’s run by the legend himself, General Poe Dameron. Based on this artwork + my shitty edits.

Warning: age gap, Poe's kinda a dick, smut - rough sex, p in v, choking, oral (m receiving), this Poe is suuuuuuper ooc.

A/N: I'M WRITING FOR POE AGAIN! YAY! Also, I might write more if people want. because i do have more ideas for this version of Poe...

Tagging: @darthdameron @abelslittlebunny

You've been with the Resistance for a short time. A little under five years. Despite the end of the First Order, that didn't mean that there weren't still people who wanted to take over the galaxy. The Resistance still remained in tact taking care of those who tried to take the First Order's place, as well as keeping the overall galaxy safe.

In the time you've been with the Resistance, you heard about the legends such as Rey Skywalker, General Finn, and General Poe Dameron. Rey and Finn were off on the other side of the galaxy, training new and upcoming Jedis. General Poe Dameron? Well, he stuck with the Resistance.

You grew up hearing stories about him. He had saved your parents, Resistance fighters as well, and if it wasn't for him, you wouldn't be here. You thought that when you'd meet him, he'd be just as witty and charming like your parents described.

Unfortunately, he was the opposite.

Keep reading

this is a lil thot here but excuse you the breeding kink and baby fever go brrr.. anyways imagine mickey like finding out you want kids and then going FERAL. i just- that image in my head is one i am PROUD of creating

But it is an IMPORTANT thot. This awakened something, I think. A lil nsfwish so 18+, and there's a cut. (Reference to their conversation about what they'd name their kids from "swallow you like sunshine") ahoy, ahoy this became a whole thing --

--

so deep in love with you (baby love) [mickey “fanboy” garcia x fem!civilian!reader, aka “cielo”]

Word Count: 1.3k (always a nerd, never a blurb) of nerves, honey-sweetness, and the eternity of love’s promise

Warnings: hints of smut, fingering, breeding kink (obvi) and comeplay. mildest of mild hints of choking. 18+, please.

Why were you so nervous?

No, seriously, why were you nervous? You and Mickey had had this conversation before. There was no reason for you to be this anxious, sitting silently during the dinner he had made for you, twirling spaghetti around your fork endlessly.

If Mickey found your silence disquieting, he had the good grace not to say anything, eyeing you with those bourbon-honey swirled eyes of his that drove you absolutely crazy.

You could do this. This is Mickey you were talking to. Mickey, who had stood in front of the censor so the sliding door at the grocery store stayed open while you tried not to slip in a puddle on your way in. Mickey, who wraps his hands around you and puts them in the pouch pocket of your hoodie while you wait for movie tickets. Mickey, who brought you coffee in bed this morning. Mickey, who plays with Bob's kids, talks to them like they're adults, and excitedly talks too fast when he spills to you all the new facts he's learned about cuttlefish after spending an afternoon with them.

You could tell him this.

"Ehm," you cleared your throat, putting down your fork that had a veritable hive of spaghetti twirled to the end of it by now. "M?" You ventured, waiting for his eyes to meet yours across the table before continuing.

"Yeah, Cielo?" He must sense your nerves. He put his fork down, too, waiting patiently for you to continue.

You cast your eyes down the smear of red sauce across your plate that looked vaguely like a bloated bear before, murmuring,

"Ithinkimreadytotry," you rushed.

Mickey cocked his head to the side, eyes swimming with questions, "Sorry?" He asked.

"I think," you exhaled, tilting your jaw to boldly (in your opinion) meet your husband's eye. "I think I'm ready? To start, you know, trying? Only if you are, I mean, I know you leave again soon, so we don't have a ton of time, and it doesn't have to be now, but I'm ready if you're ready and I just wanna have a baby with you, if that's cool--" you rambled, cutting yourself off when you saw Mickey's eyes widen, his hand reaching over the table to press his finger gently over your lips, rendering you silent.

"Baby," he chuckled. "A baby?"

You nodded, slumping back in your seat, deflated, at the toll your rant had taken on your body.

Mickey eyed you again, seemingly not eager to respond.

He nods, pushing his chair back and standing up, making his way around the table and over to you.

"So," he reaches for you, beckoning you up from your seat with the gentle tug of his warm arm around your waist. "Which one do we try for first, hm?" He asks as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, lips trailing the thrumming pulse along the column of your throat. "Vero or Valencia, boy or girl?"

Without giving you a chance to respond, Mickey hoists you over his shoulder, carrying you through the threshold to the living room, gently depositing you on the couch. You gasped at the feel of his fingers tugging at the waistband of your leggings, seemingly perpetually warm, something that emanates from him, tried and true.

And Mickey barely lets you get a word in edgewise, as you open your mouth to respond, he fuses his lips to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth as his fingers continue to tug your leggings down your legs.

Like a heatwave on a summer's day, Mickey had overwhelmed you, sunshine and molten gold, his hips now rolling into yours on the couch.

"W-wait," you pushed his shoulders, his lips separating from yours, flushed, kiss-bitten, and honeyed. "Now?!"

"You just gave this whole spiel about how we don't have a ton of time," Mickey reasoned, his fingers trailing to your waist as he rolled his hips into yours again, causing you to buck at the feel of him through his sweatpants. "Why not now?"

"M!" You swatted his bicep lightly with the back of your hand, "I haven't showered today. I'm wearing ratty old leggings, for god's sake. I look a mess!"

Mickey hmm'd, a purring little hum of dissent lodged in his throat, like a perpetually displeased jungle cat.

"Agree to disagree, amor," he eyed you as though you were the meal he had been enjoying moments ago.

"First of all," he presses a kiss to your throat, one hand coming up to follow it, fingers lightly wrapping their way around your neck as he feels the effect he has on you in the blood rushing through your veins, beneath his fingers, heated and heady. "You aren't wearing your leggings ... Anymore."

He presses a kiss to your lips, following the gentle gesture with an intentional scraping of teeth, a little bite to his bark.

"Second of all," his other hand at your waist now slips between you to feel the now-soaked lace at the very center of you, plucking it aside to allow him to stroke the seam of your cunt, his touch causing your lips to part in a gasp, your eyes to flutter closed. "You look hot as fuck. Always do."

With that, Mickey slips a finger inside of you, pleased at the feel of your heated walls around him as he plays you to an unheard rhythm, rolling his thumb over your clit. Eagerly swallowing your breathy little moans as he kisses you through his attentions.

"M'gonna fuck you, Cielo," he murmurs, the heat of his body leaving yours as he rocks back on the couch to shuck his sweatpants down. "Gonna give you a baby. Gonna make you come first, though..."

"I want that," you sigh, twining your fingers through the curls you know will be shorn once he leaves, eager to tug, eager to capitalize. Eager to make him yours. "Want everything with you."

...

Later in the night, Mickey takes in the serenity of your features bathed in the white-blue glow of the television as you two take in "The Empire Strikes Back" with unseeing eyes, exhausted and high off of each other. He had put on the movie and grabbed you a chocolate bar after round ... Three, was it?

And he didn't know if it would take right away, really. But he was hell-bent on trying, having fucked you into the couch until you'd forgotten your own name, pushing his release back into you when he had withdrawn, fingers gently sweeping along your opening to urge you through another orgasm, while keeping his spend inside of you.

Now, he's admiring you, the curve of your waist. Imagining the way your stomach will swell someday, the genesis of your collective devotion.

So, really, he doesn't know what compels him to tell you, but he says it anyway --

"You know," your eyes meet his at his words, lips curled in a sweet, sleepy smile, encouraging him to continue. "If you get pregnant this year, Javy owes Payback twenty bucks."

"Excuse me, what?!" You cock an eyebrow at him, seated on your elbows the better to take in what your husband had just said.

"Ehm, yeah," Mickey was sheepish now, scrubbing the back of his neck with his hand. "They were teasing, you know how they are... And, well, I know that I've got it in me, so really, I don't know what they were trying to imply. Just giving me shit, I think."

You put your hand up to silence your husband, biting back a chuckle as you clarify,

"M, do you mean to tell me you wagered with your co-workers about how soon you could knock me up?"

And Mickey, expert at reading you though be was, was grasping to tell whether you were amused or upset. It's a fine line to walk, sometimes, truly...

"Uh, yeah, I guess I did..." He trailed off, glancing at you with apologetic doe eyes.

A laugh bubbled from your lips, a tipsy little thing, telling champagne bubbles as you laughed at your husband's ridiculous antics, tugging him toward you, and pressing your lips to his.

"Claro. C'mon then, daddy," you murmur, kissing him with each word. "We've gotta get Reuben that money."

--

tagging some fanboy girlies (so sorry): @joaquinwhorres @withahappyrefrain @thegirlwhowritesfics  @clints-lucky-arrow @inklore @phoenixhalliwell @ohmagawd-life @moonlight-prose  @levylovegood @thatredheadwriter @zombieaurora @shadeds-library @writercole @ijustwantedplums @justalonelyslytherin @gretagerwigsmuse @fanboysfangirl @siriusfahey @the-navistar-carol @jadore-andor @fanboygarcia @lavenderluna10 @thedaredevilsgirl @fluffyprettykitty @mickeyluvs @mothdruid  @maxmayfield @eagerforthesky @callmemana @mxgyver  @andrewrussgarfield @bioodforbiood  @the-purity-pen @luxuryberzatto @liz-allyn

And second idea:

Matt having a bad lawyer day and a bad Mr. Devil Sir night, the coming home to reader and needing to just let go and use reader’s body for release (with reader’s consent of course) BUT THEN he goes just a lil too far and reader has to use their safe word and Matt immediately snaps out of it then feels TERRIBLE and gets all self deprecation-y and reader comforts him 🫢😳🥹

hi nonnie! ❤️ ok first of all I must be an idiot because I could not find your first request and I don't know what I did, but if you want to re-submit it please do! thank you so much for this request, it was a bit of a challenge not gonna lie, but I really hope I did it justice and this is at least close to what you were looking for!

also just a warning: this req does include explicit sexual content, so minors please dni. I also want to give a warning that while this is purely consensual, it does include the use of reader's safe word. if that makes you uncomfortable or isn't for you, please feel free to skip this one. you will not hurt my feelings, I promise. I want this to be a safe space where everyone feels welcome & respected. while this is a little darker in content, it does have a fluffy ending with our favorite sad duck. ✨

a really bad day.

It had been a day. God, had it been a fucking day. 

It started with Matt falling back asleep after smacking his hand over his alarm so forcefully that he must have broken it, because the alarms he had preset in fifteen minute increments never followed. Your side of the bed had gone cold, and silence filled the apartment, indicating you had already left for work. Matt knew he shouldn’t be angry with you. It wasn’t your fault he overslept. He had stumbled in only a few hours earlier, and since you were always worrying that he didn’t sleep enough and could probably tell how exhausted he was, had probably decided he could use the extra few minutes. Still, he was angry.

His bad mood didn’t improve as he stomped around the bedroom, pulling his clothes on a little too aggressively that he nearly ripped some of the buttons off his shirt and tore his tie in half. The incessant voice alerting him that Foggy was calling had him seconds away from hurling his phone into the brick. He grit his teeth as he bent over to hastily tie his shoes, his entire body crying out in agony from the aftermath of last night. As badly as he wanted to stay home, he knew Foggy would chew him out for it granted the importance of the case they were working on. Matt slammed the door shut behind him so hard it sounded like thunder had erupted in the small hallway, much to his neighbors displeasure. 

The day only got worse from there. The streets of Hell’s Kitchen seemed to be a little bit more crowded than usual, or maybe Matt was just more impatient today as he darted across the busy sidewalks a little too well for someone using the aid of a cane. It was unbearably hot today, and he had already begun to sweat before he made it to the end of his street. He felt like he was trapped in a sauna underneath his clothing and prayed to God the air conditioning in the office hadn’t gone out again. All the noises and smells around him seemed to be far more intense than usual, and the overstimulation was causing a migraine to start to throb between his ears. Great.

Matt Murdock must have truly pissed off the powers that be somehow because the second he walked through the door, he was greeted with bad news from Foggy. A new piece of evidence had been found in the case they were working on that completely ripped apart their entire defense. All that hard work they had done, all those late nights burning the midnight oil the past few weeks, and their entire fucking defensive argument had been torn to shreds by a tiny piece of evidence that had been overlooked by the NYPD. It took every single ounce of self control for Matt to not snap and start taking his frustrations out on every outdated inanimate object in that office. 

He had gotten home before you, and decided to skip dinner and head straight to Fogwell’s before going out on patrol. Hit after hit he threw at the worn down bag did nothing to dull his fury. Matt yelled in frustration, throwing his bag clear across the gym in a fit of rage. He knew he couldn’t keep pounding away at that bag if he was going to have any strength left for the assholes that dared to get in the path of the Devil tonight. He was more aggressive than usual as he took man after man down throughout the night. He punched and kicked until he tasted the familiar metallic tang in the air, and was only satisfied by the sound of something breaking that wasn’t meant to break. He twisted limbs in angles they weren’t meant to be in, and had knocked five men out at least in unconsciousness. But it wasn’t enough. That blaze that had been roaring inside him since he woke up was still burning red hot.

Matt could tell from three blocks away that you were still awake. He could hear the steady rhythm of your heartbeat and your breathing, not slow enough for you to be asleep, or even close to it. Sometimes you waited up for him, just to make sure he was okay, or because you missed him. Sometimes he loved that. He loved coming home in the early hours of the night when everything was quiet and still, finding you still awake on the couch reading a book and waiting for him, telling him you couldn’t fall asleep without him tonight. He loved laying his head on your chest, feeling you draping a blanket over the two of you, and listening to your voice as you both caught up about your days. He loved the feeling of your fingers threading gently through his hair, and letting the symphony of your heartbeat ease the weight of all the violence he had encountered that night into nothingness. Sometimes he needed that. Sometimes he loved it.

But tonight all it did was piss him off. Tonight he hated it, because he felt guilty. He felt guilty that you were awake at this hour, waiting for him to come home. He felt guilty because he knew you had to be awake in a few short hours for work. He was even angrier because he knew you wouldn’t go to sleep until he let you examine him for injuries, insisting on doctoring even the most miniscule of scrapes and bruises. He hated it because he had told you countless times you didn’t have to wait up for him, and you wouldn’t fucking listen.

“Why are you still awake?”

It came out more as an accusatory statement than a question. You didn’t deserve the venom in his words. He knew that. He had never used such a harsh tone with you before, and he could tell it caught you off guard by the slight uptick in your heartbeat. That should’ve been the first alarm in his head, but he couldn’t hear it.

“I…I was waiting for you. I didn’t get to see you today. You weren’t home when I got here…and you weren’t answering your phone. I just…wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Normally, that would’ve melted Matt’s heart, and he would’ve apologized for making you worry. He would’ve been able to notice the uncertainty and nervousness lacing your voice, taking a moment to calm himself before greeting you properly. But today was not a normal day, and Matt wasn’t himself. Today those words were like gasoline antagonizing a wildfire. 

“How many fucking times do I have to tell you not to do that? I can take care of myself, I don’t need you to worry, and I sure as hell don’t need your pity.”

“Matt, I-”

Matt had ripped the mask off his head and sent it flying across the living room, smacking against the brick with a heavy thud. He wrapped his hand tightly around your throat, squeezing just hard enough to stop your flow of words as he dragged you up off the couch and roughly guided you towards your shared bedroom.

“Shut up. Since you’re awake, why don’t you make yourself fucking useful?”

Matt spun you around so quickly it made you dizzy, pushing you onto your knees on the bed before him with a force that nearly winded you. He ripped your panites completely off your hips like they were made of wet paper and a sharp gasp left your mouth. It wasn’t that he had never done that before, but tonight it felt different. He was different. Matt didn’t recognize the words that fell from his lips. They didn’t sound like him. He would never speak to you that way. But it was like he had blacked out and someone else had taken over his body. The other guy. As soon as he was out of his suit, he spit on his palm and rubbed it over his cock a few times to get himself hard. Pushing your head down into the mattress carelessly, he leaned down slightly to spit on the entrance of your pussy before lining himself up.

“Don’t you fucking move.”

He didn’t wait before shoving his entire length forcefully inside your tight walls, or wait for you to adjust before starting at an unforgiving pace. He didn’t recognize that the whimper that sounded from your throat was one of pain, not pleasure. He was too far gone in his own head to pay attention to anything else but how badly he needed a release. He had been trying all goddamn night to get this anger out, lashing out aggressively at anyone that got in his way, but it wasn’t fucking working and this was his last resort.

You always helped him through his pent up animosity when he came home still reeling with adrenaline and frustration. You always told him you didn’t mind when he let the Devil loose with you, and that you even enjoyed playing with him sometimes. You always told him you wanted to help, however you could, to give him what he needed. So, Matt didn’t think anything of it when he came home like this. You had assured him several times before you wanted it too. That you didn’t mind him like this, and that sometimes you needed him like this. All that he needed right now was you. If he could just make it to heaven tonight, he could leave hell behind.

Matt wasn’t paying attention to you. He had your wrists locked behind your back in a tight hold, his other hand gripped so tightly on your hip you knew there would be bruises from his fingertips. His hips were snapping relentlessly into yours and he was pistoning in and out of you so hard it was difficult for you to not collapse. His head was so clouded with blind rage that he couldn’t hear your pleas and cries of his name, or that they sounded different. Matt’s growls and grunts were animalistic as they tore through his chest, his grip getting immensely tighter and his hips moving impossibly faster as he got close. It was right there…he was almost there…just a little bit-

“Red!”

Something inside of Matt snapped when he heard you scream out your safe word, and he immediately froze. He blinked his eyes rapidly as he tilted his head down towards your body beneath him, like he was waking up from some kind of fever dream and trying to remember where he was. He instantly let go of you when he heard your shuddering breaths, and tasted the saline that escaped down your cheek. Matt’s eyes widened in horror as everything suddenly started to clear up in his selfish brain. You had been trying to get him to stop. Your pleas and cries from earlier seemed to just now hit his ears.

“Matt…please slow down…”

“Matty please…it’s too much…”

“God…can we please just…just stop for a second? Please Matty…it hurts…”

It hurts.

Matt scrambled backwards away from the bed, his back colliding with the door as he realized what he had done. How far he had taken it. How far he had pushed you. He suddenly felt nauseous, those two words clamoring around in his head.

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts.

“Oh God, Y/N…I…I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. I didn’t…I didn’t mean to-”

You took a few deep breaths to steady yourself, carefully sitting up on your aching knees and glancing over your shoulder to look at Matt. Your heart broke at the contrite expression of pure terror on his face. You knew he hadn’t meant to hurt you, or push you like that. You could tell from the way he shut off his alarm that morning, and the way he had come home to you, that something was off with him. You had texted and called a few times today to check on him, but had never gotten ahold of him. After calling both Foggy and Karen when you got home and Matt wasn’t there, you started to worry. Both of them confirmed his sour mood and questionable outbursts throughout the day, which gnawed at the pit of your stomach.

Whatever was going on with him, you could tell it had pushed him to his breaking point, and you had unfortunately been caught in the storm. As you got off the bed and began to walk closer towards him, calling out his name softly, Matt squeezed his eyes shut and tugged at the roots of his hair in frustration.

“Fuck, Y/N…I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, sweetheart…I didn’t mean to. I didn’t mean to, I swear-”

“Hey, I know, Matty. I know. It’s okay-”

“No! No it isn’t okay. Nothing about what just happened is okay.”

Matt’s voice broke towards the end of his sentence, and it sent a pang throughout your chest. There were tears of shame forming in his eyes, and you could see the guilt swimming around in them. It devastated you to see him like this. 

“Matty, I’m okay.”

“No you’re not, Y/N. I hurt you. I hurt you because I’m fucking-”

You quickly pressed a finger to Matt’s lips, knowing you only had a matter of minutes to get his incessant guilt under control before it really had a chance to sink in. You gently grabbed onto the back of his neck, bringing him down to press your foreheads together, and guided his hand up to settle on your chest over your heart.

“Matty, I want you to listen to me. Are you listening? I want you to listen to my heartbeat, feel it. I am okay, I promise. You are okay. We are okay. Yes, it did hurt, but only because I wasn’t ready. That’s all. You know I don’t mind when you’re a little rough, you know that. But you know you have to prep me first, make sure I’m ready too. You forgot to do that tonight, and that’s okay. You haven’t been feeling like yourself today, have you? You’ve been a little lost up there, huh?”

You kept your voice soft and barely above a whisper, gently brushing your thumb along Matt’s temple, replacing your touch with a kiss as you heard him exhale deeply and felt him slowly nod his head.

“That’s okay, baby. We all get lost sometimes. We reach our limit, and we lose our heads. You had a really bad day today, yeah?”

Matt was afraid to speak. He didn’t want to fuck up any worse than he already had. He didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve your gentle touch and unwavering kindness. He didn’t deserve your omnipotent understanding or your pure unfiltered love. He didn’t deserve you.

You knew exactly what was going through his head, you could practically hear the scathing words. You knew Matt Murdock like the back of your hand. You knew he was simmering with self-deprecation and remorse, and would never forgive himself for tonight even though you already had. You gently cradled his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs over the tops of his cheekbones.

“Matty, baby, you had a bad day today. A really bad day. But that’s okay, you know why? It’s almost over. And tomorrow is a brand new one. A fresh start. Why don’t we take a nice shower, hm? Just wash it all away, and start clean tomorrow. C’mon, bub. Come with me.”

Matt hesitantly let you lead him into the bathroom, holding onto your hand for as long as you would let him. Even though he could tell you meant every word you said from your unfaltering heartbeat, he wasn’t convinced that he was worthy of your forgiveness. Of your love. Of you.

As steam billowed above like gentle clouds, you carefully ushered Matt into the shower and lightly pushed him backwards until he stood under the flow of the water. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, his entire body visibly relaxing under the scalding stream. You moved forward to wrap your arms around his waist and lay your head on his chest, stroking your fingertips lovingly up and down his back. Matt’s arms came around your back slowly and cautiously, holding you delicately to his chest like you would vanish into the steam if he wasn’t careful. He had been wound up so tightly for the past 24 hours, and focusing now only on the feeling of your touch, he felt the tension finally begin to detox from his body, and he wanted to cry in relief. 

The lighter he felt, the tighter he held onto you. You sang to him softly, swaying steadily from side to side underneath the warm water together. You smiled when you felt him bury his face into your neck, bringing one of your hands up to run your fingers through his wet hair tenderly as he melted into your embrace. You pressed several soft kisses to his neck and shoulder, never once loosening your hold on him. You could feel him starting to come back to you.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.”

“I know, bub. I know. You wanna talk about it?”

“I just…everything was going wrong today. Everything was too loud, smelled too strong, felt too hot and uncomfortable. I couldn’t stop feeling anything but angry. I couldn’t snap out of it, no matter what I did.”

“You were overwhelmed Matty. You should’ve called me and came home. I would’ve come home and taken care of you, you know that baby.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I…I couldn’t think straight today. Couldn’t hardly focus. I just…wasn’t thinking. Just…feeling, everything. All at once.”

You hugged him a little tighter after his defeated confession, feeling your heart ache for him all over again. You had seen Matt struggle with sensory overload plenty of times, and irritation was usually the emotion that took over when that happened and he would get a little snappy, but you had never seen him like you had tonight. You realized how intense everything must have been for him to get to that point, and it sent fresh cracks through your heart.

“It’s okay, Matty. You’re home now, and everything is alright. I’ve got you. Why don’t you take tomorrow off, hm? I’ll stay home with you. We can spend the whole day, just me and you.”

Matt hummed quietly in response, nuzzling his face further into your neck to inhale your comforting scent. You both stood wrapped up together under the water until it started to run a little cold. 

“Foggy’s right, you know.”

“Hm?”

“He calls you ‘The Matt Whisperer’.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, smiling as you heard the faintest of chuckles muffled against your skin. You squeezed his large frame in a tight hug, reaching behind him to shut off the water.

“Daredevil and the Matt Whisperer, what a dynamic duo we make. Think I can get a sexy little outfit like yours?”

BABE PLS IM LOSING IT OVER THIS HNGGG😩

needy

Title: Needy

Pairing: Chubby!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky’s at work, and you need him. Bad. 

Warnings: Smut, very brief mention of body insecurity, sexting, tooth rotting fluff, MINORS DNI!!

A/N: based on some awesome chubby!Bucky asks i’ve had sitting in my inbox for a while (sorry nonnies, life happened haha). but i hope you’ll all enjoy the latest addition to my Chubby Bucky collection! divider by @rainbowkisses31​!

Bucky, are you off work soon? 

The text makes him smile.

Keep reading

GASPING FOR AIR ATM

Idk how many of y’all need this rn.

I like to listen to Spicy audios okay? Sue me.

However all I could think of: Hangman’s Southern Best Friend Bob doing a favor for Hangman

Or Rhett Abbott

This is a spicy/nsfw audio so be warned, but you’re welcome

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | halloween is that special night where you can be anything you want to be... maybe more than the labels everyone else gives you. maybe even more than 'just friends'. (aka, reader has a reputation, eddie's still a virgin, filth ensues)

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 | 5.6k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut (18+ only, of course), virginity loss, best friends to lovers, slight angst (mostly just hurt/comfort), unprotected sex, creampie, degradation kink (but like, in a loving way?), rough filthy fucknasty sex for no reason at all except that I'm a whore, L-bomb, reader is a candy corn hater (this was hard for me guys ngl), all men being trash except eddie (so, you know, real life)

“God, I can’t stand these,” you grimaced as you shoved the baggies of candy corn towards him.

“More for meee!” Eddie sang happily as he scooped them all up, cackling to himself as he filled his arms.  He looked especially in character as a pirate in that moment, treating the candy like his treasure.  His costume had actually come together better than you expected: the tight leather pants and boots looked less rocker and more sailor when paired with the flowy white shirt and black eyepatch.

"Will you trade your Sour Patch Kids for my candy cigarettes?" you asked him, getting an incredulous scoff in return.  

"No way," he shook his head, "I don't need candy ones, got a couple packs of the real kind in my room."

You frowned.  "Guess the candy economy changed since we were kids, huh?"

He looked up at you, a tender look in his eyes as he smiled.  "Yeah…" he trailed off.

"I'm surprised anybody gave a couple of giant seniors candy for trick-or-treating," you smirked.  "I guess that's the benefit of 'chaperoning' your Hellfire friends."

"Exactly," he beamed.  "And hey, maybe we're a little old for it, but you make for a lovely princess."

You batted your eyelashes playfully, tilting your head with the tiara pinned on top.  "Who, me?  I'm just dressed as a good excuse to repurpose an old homecoming gown."

He laughed, but then seemed to get a bit more serious then (but still happy).  "I'm glad we could do this," he decided.  "Like old times."

"We always spend Halloween together," you reminded him.

"Yeah— I mean this." He motioned to the dumped-out pails of candy on the trailer floor, and you nodded.  "And not just 'cause of the sugar rush."

You smiled softly at him, tilting your head.  "Of course, Eddie."

"Kinda thought you were gonna ditch me this year," he added suddenly, looking down into his lap at the candy he was unwrapping.  "You know… 'cause of that guy."

"Oh, yeah," you sighed, "well… that's over."

Eddie looked up again, his eyes seeming bigger than ever.  "Really?"

"Don't sound so excited," you rolled your eyes, but the sarcasm wasn't enough to hide your heartbreak.

"No— hey, I'm sorry," he offered, scooting closer to you on the floor.  "I know you liked him a lot.  But I know you know I thought he was a total loser."

You shot him a look with a raised brow.  He shrugged.

"Takes one to know one."

"You're not a loser, Eddie," you sighed sympathetically.  "And you were right about him— obviously.  I knew you were, I just… I dunno, I guess I thought I could change him?"

Eddie smirked.  "When has that ever worked?"

"For me?  Never," you scoffed.  "I think guys do change, for the right girl.  And it's just never me."

"That's not fair," he frowned, "it's not your fault that these guys are garbage.  Well— I mean, it's sorta your fault that you keep hooking up with guys that are garbage—"

You slapped him on the arm lightly, and he laughed.

"Am I wrong?" he wondered.

You slumped your shoulders a bit.  "No… but still.  Don't be so mean, I'm moping over here."

"Aw, sweetheart," he pouted, sliding closer again and wrapping his arms around you.  You sighed as you rested your head on his shoulder, shutting your eyes.  Honestly, you were trying not to cry.  Over a guy.  You told yourself you weren't going to do that anymore.  Actually, you told Eddie that you wouldn't do that anymore, after you cried over Tommy Pearson.  And sure, you cried over James Neher since then, but he didn't call you out for it… that showed how messed up you really were over it, that he didn't poke fun at you for it.  Almost nothing was too far with you two, you made fun of him for being a trailer park flunk-out just as much as he poked fun at your… storied dating history.

The one thing you didn't make fun of Eddie for (that much, at least) was his lack of dating history.  As of yet, Eddie was actually still a virgin.

Uh, mostly a virgin… he got a blowjob once after a Corroded Coffin show, and called you first thing after to tell you giddily about how it went.  He was heartbroken, too, when she never called, but he didn't cry— he just started dodging your questions about it until finally fessing up that she totally disappeared.  So you put on one of his favorite movies (The Evil Dead) and wrapped him up in a blanket, and he was over it in a night.

That was a couple months ago, though, and Eddie had had no luck since with losing the remaining half of his virginity.  You hadn't had any trouble finding guys, just in finding those special (potentially imaginary) ones that don't disappear after you put out.

The conversation drifted back to candy and the next Hellfire campaign before it looped back around to relationships again.  It started because of a debate about if gum counted as candy, actually.

"Maybe, like, Juicy Fruit counts," Eddie decided.  "But definitely not just any old spearmint stick."

"I thought you liked spearmint gum!"

"Yeah, but it's not candy!  I like a lot of things that aren't candy!"

You huffed.  "So you're not gonna give me anything for the sticks of Trident?"

"Best I can do is… one Tootsie Roll," he decided, tossing the pathetic little taffy at you as you scoffed.

"Don't insult me," you grimaced as you tossed it back, "I don't want your individually-wrapped waxy chocolate byproduct."

"I'll be honest, I didn't really understand that," he frowned, "but I can tell it was an insult to my beloved Tootsie Rolls."

"They taste like eating a chocolate scented candle!" you announced.

He gasped dramatically and held one of his larger Tootsie Rolls up to his chest, like he was protecting it from your words.  "That's not true, baby," he whispered to the candy, petting it tenderly, "she didn't mean that…"

You laughed at the bizarre display.  "God, you're such a freak," you reminded him.

"And you're a slut," he returned with a wide smile and a tilt of his head.

That was your thing, you'd always say that back to each other, like a nickname.  You started it to try to take the power away from the names everyone else called you two, and it worked: it didn't hurt nearly as much getting called a slut when you could remember the way Eddie said it like a term of endearment.  And he said it was the same for him, even though he pretended like he'd never been bothered by his label.  He did have it worse though… he was the freak, you were just a slut.  

"If you don't want the Roll then I guess I'm getting that gum for free," Eddie decided, about to reach for it, but you smacked his hand away.

"No way," you frowned.

"Are you gonna chew it?" he assumed.

"Never," you decided, "but I can find someone who wants it."

"Why won't you chew it yourself?  Still turned off to all gum by that Fred guy?"

"It was Frank," you corrected, "and yeah, he never stopped chewing that stupid Extra.  Even during…"

"Guess he needed a little Extra help in bed," Eddie snorted.

"The sex wasn't that bad, actually," you recalled, "it just… smelled a little too minty fresh."

"Does it normally smell like something else?" he asked.

Your face got a little warm.  "Uh… yeah, kinda."

Eddie wrinkled his brow slightly.  You thought that was the end of it, after a long pause, and you were just about to change the subject when he broke the silence.  "What's it like?"

"The smell?!"

"No, no!  The sex.  What does it feel like?" he asked hesitantly, flipping up his eye patch to look at you properly.

"Well, I dunno— it's hard to describe."

"Everyone says that," he frowned.

"And it would feel different for you anyways," you added.

He nodded.  "Right."

"One guy said that I felt like a warm bath, but like, only on his cock," you remembered, almost laughing at the memory.  It was a weird thing to say, especially in the middle of sex.

Eddie choked.  "O-oh…"

"What?" you tilted your head, confused by his reaction.

"I just— um, I was trying to figure out how it feels in general… I never even… I never thought about how you feel…"

Your face heated up a bit.

"Does every girl feel different?" he realized, leaning in a little closer to listen to your reply.

"That's what I've heard," you shrugged.  "Every guy feels different."

"Different how?  Like, bigger or smaller?"

"Not just that— sometimes you can feel, like, the head and stuff…" you explained, continuing when Eddie looked a little confused, "like, if the head is really big you can feel the edge of it.  Or if he's uncut you can sorta feel that too, in the way he strokes.  And then there's how curved it is…"

Eddie's stare was a little glassy.  "You can feel all that?  Just with your pussy?"

You nodded.

"That's…" he trailed off, clearing his throat.  "Yeah.  Cool."

The way he was clearly flustered by all this made your hips shift against the floor for a second.  You and Eddie had obviously had pretty raunchy conversations before (see the aforementioned post-BJ phone call) and sure, sometimes they kinda turned you on… but this one felt a little different.  Usually if you felt that feeling while talking to him about something it was because you were remembering something you'd done before; this was the first time you were actually imagining something.  Something, specifically, happening with you and Eddie.

"You know…" you started before shaking your head and scoffing.  "Nevermind.  Too weird."

"What?  Nothing's too weird with me," he grinned— one of his teeth was drawn out in black for the costume, and he looked pretty silly.

"I was just… I dunno," you shrugged.  "If I tell you, you won't be, like, offended, right?"

"Well, I guess it depends on how offensive it is."

You sighed.  "Just don't judge me, okay?"

"Never."

"I was thinking, if you wanted, you could… try it out.  With me."

He froze.  "Try… sex?"

He'd dropped his head lower between his shoulders as he said the last word.  You nodded briefly.  "Yeah."

You couldn't even begin to describe the look on his face.  "Well, that's… not offensive."

Already you felt ridiculous, and you shook your head as you started to backtrack.  "I'm sorry if that was a really weird idea, I'm not trying to—"

"No, no!  It's okay," he assured, reaching out towards you for a second but not actually touching you.  "I just… didn't think you would say that. Um. Yeah. So, we would just, like, do it?"

"If you want to."

"I mean, not that you're not— you're gorgeous," he promised, talking over himself, "you know I think so.  But you're my best friend.  Wait— no.  You're gorgeous and you're my best friend.  It won't make stuff weird with us, right?"

You raised an eyebrow.  "Are you gonna make it weird?"

"No more than usual," he smirked.

"Then, no. It wouldn't be weird.  It would just be, like, a friend helping a friend out," you decided, "like how I hadn't tried LSD 'til I met you.  You can try this, with me."

"Yeah, but," he lowered his voice, scooching a little closer, "this is different.  I gave you drugs but you… you're the drug.  It's your body, and you're giving it to me."

You fought the urge to bite your lip.  "Yeah," you agreed, "I don't mind.  Just use me for a bit."

Eddie's throat bobbed as he swallowed, mouth falling open for a second.  "Use you?" he repeated.  "God, why is that hot?"

"'Cause guys are always into that— they wanna feel powerful or whatever," you explained with a snort of a laugh.  "Wanna feel like they're conquering something."

"Heh," he laughed nervously as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck, "are we all so predictable?"

You smiled at him, leaning closer slightly and tilting your head down to look up at him through your lashes.  "I dunno," you teased, "but I'm predicting you're gonna take me up on this."

"Fuck yeah I am," he decided, grabbing your face to pull you closer— but then suddenly stopping.  "Fuck, wait, can I kiss you?"

You blinked quickly.  "Um, yeah," you decided.

For all that bravado before, he hesitated before he did kiss you… and it was actually pretty sweet, and gentle, and way too short.  Yes, it did feel sort of weird knowing you were kissing Eddie, your best friend since 4th grade, but not a bad kind of weird, necessarily.

He was smiling at you already when he pulled back.  "You know you don't have to do all that, right?" you reminded him.

"I-I know.  I'd feel weird about it if I didn't kiss you first, though," he explained.  "And, you know.  Kissing is nice.  Friends can kiss."

"Yeah," you laughed.

"We can, uh, go to the bedroom," he offered.  "Not that it wouldn't be fun to do it on the floor surrounded by our candy quarry— just, uh, not how I pictured my first time."

"Well, either way," you replied as you both stood up, following him across the trailer to the bedroom, "it's not who you pictured your first time with."

"Yeah, well, Joan Jett was busy tonight," he laughed, and you laughed with him, falling onto the bed together with a sigh.  You'd done that a lot before— but sitting up on your side, facing him, starting to touch his chest delicately through his shirt… that was new.

"Do you want me to ride you, or—?" you started to offer.

"No! No," he sighed, "I wanna— like you said, use you, right?  I want you to, uh, lay back, and I can go as fast or as slow as I want."

You smiled a little.  "Okay," you agreed, "but— I should probably take this dress off first."

"Let me help," Eddie offered, even though you didn't actually need any help.  You turned away from him and felt his hands delicately unzip the back of the gown; the ghost of his touch on your spine made you nearly shiver.

Once it was unzipped, you shimmied out of the garment and tossed it aside, leaving you in just your bra and panties (and the tiara, which you'd forgotten about.

You laid back on the bed for him to climb on top of you, which he did, his eyes running all over your body.  "Listen, I know you're already doing me a really big favor," he cleared his throat, "but, uh, maybe… maybe you could show me your tits?"

You grinned and reached under your back to unclasp your bra, hearing him sigh a little at the sight of your bare chest.

"Can I—?"

"Sure," you answered instantly.  Of course, you thought he was about to say touch them, so you gasped in shock when he actually latched his lips onto them, suckling at your nipples eagerly.  "F-fuck, Ed…"

"Wow," he breathed when he pulled back, "they're really sensitive."

“Yeah,” you agreed, deciding not to mention that that wasn’t always the case.  “I can’t help but notice that you’re still in your pirate get-up there, Munson.”

He smirked.  “Unfair, isn’t it?”

Nodding, you watched him sit back on his feet so he could pull his shirt off over his head.  You'd seen him shirtless plenty of times before, but the toned torso with a decent scattering of dark hair and even darker tattoos was always a welcome sight.  He'd gotten even more muscular in the last couple years, something you'd sort of tried not to notice, but you couldn't fight the urge to run your hand over his chest and pecs when they were exposed.

“Is that better?” he grinned, but you laughed loudly right away when you saw one of his teeth was still blacked out for the costume.  He wrinkled his eyebrows before he seemed to remember, looking a bit more shy for a moment.  “R-right, sorry…”

He reached into his mouth and scrubbed the black marks off with the pad of his finger, licking the tooth for good measure before showing his teeth again.

“Back to normal?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you answered, “good as new.”

Your hand was still on his chest, lightly, and he got a little more serious as he took it and guided it down: over his slight abs and down to the thick bulge in his pants.  You sighed a little at the feeling of it through the leather, he was so hard and warm even through the heavy material.

"Damn, you're big," you noticed.

"Really?" he grinned.  "Fuck, okay."

"I should've known you would have a big cock," you laughed, rubbing him a little firmer through the pants, "you've got that way about you."

"Oh?  I didn't— I didn't think it was that big," he mumbled.

You smiled and pulled your hand out of the way as he shimmied the pants down his thighs, exposing his erection that bounced back up to his belly button.  (Yes, it reached that far, and you felt a little dizzy.)

"So," he broke the silence, "that's… that's my dick."

"Y-yeah," you nodded, sounding a little hoarse.

He let you stare at it blankly for a while before clearing his throat, tearing you out of your trance to look up at him; he smirked at you proudly, the smut bastard.  "You're looking at me different now.  You look… well, you're kinda drooling."

"Yeah… sorry…" you murmured absent-mindedly.

"No, don't be," he assured.  "You know, the girl that gave me that blowjob, she could only take it to about here before she choked."

He held his finger up to halfway down his shaft, and your hips shifted.  "I could get it deeper," you announced.

"Oh, you will," he promised, "but not with your mouth— I don't have any use for your mouth, babe.  You promised me your pussy, that's what I want.  And she's gonna take all of it."

"Are you talking dirty to me now?" you noticed.

"It might be dirty, but it's true," he smiled, falling down on top of you and holding himself up with bent elbows beside your head.  "You can still back out, you know," he reminded you.  "No judgment. We'll go back to normal."

"We were never normal, Eddie," you reminded him.

"Right," he grinned, "but still.  Are you sure?"

"Yeah— if you are."

He kissed you again, right when you least expected it.  "Yeah," he whispered when he pulled back slightly.  "I'm sure.  I, uh, think it's about time that I lost it, don't you?"

Nodding in agreement, you reached down and wiggled yourself out of your panties, totally naked under him.  He sighed slowly and looked down for a moment— only to look back up with his lip between his teeth.  

"Fuck. Okay. Are you ready?" he asked.

"Are you?" you returned— he looked pretty nervous, shaking a bit, breathing heavy.

"Yeah, fuck, I've been ready for this for years," he laughed breathlessly.  "Just didn't think… yeah, fuck.  Didn't think it would happen tonight."

"Well, if you keep stalling, maybe it won't," you smirked.

"Okay, okay— no more stalling.  I'm gonna… I'm gonna fuck you now."

He sounded like he was convincing himself more than you— but a moment later, he plunged forward and filled you with his cock.

He shivered as he pressed his hips up to yours, moaning weakly.  For a moment, you couldn't help but bite your lip at the feeling of him buried all the way inside you, but thankfully he didn't notice: his eyes were shut tight and his head tossed back.

You sat up, barely, just enough to put your lips by his ear.  "You're not a virgin anymore, Eddie," you whispered to him.

He sighed, then laughed slightly.  "I guess not."

"How's it feel to be inside a pussy?" you asked, genuinely curious for his reaction.  "Compared to a blowjob."

"God, it's— it's so much better," he panted.

"Really?  Some guys really seem to prefer getting blown even though it's not nearly as fun for—"

"No, fuck, this is better," he insisted quickly.  "Your… your pussy feels so— and it's— fuck, so warm, warmer than a mouth.  And… and really tight— god, it's so… squishy?"

You laughed.  "That's not a very sexy way of describing it."

"W-well, sorry," he laughed too, breathlessly, "that's how it feels.  You're— thank you for, uh, letting me do this."

"Yeah," you agreed with a smile, relaxing into the mattress under you and noticing the way he was staring down at your face.

"I can move, right?"

You nodded; he shuddered a little as he pulled his hips back and pushed forward again.  He caught you watching his face, so you shut your eyes quickly and just focused on the feeling.  It had actually been a while since you had a hook-up, and though you didn’t expect this to last very long, you could at least just enjoy it for now.

"Fuck," he breathed, "it's so… sticky.  Fuck."

“Sticky?” you repeated.

“I-in a good way,” he added quickly.  “God, I just… you’re really wet, s’all.”

Eyes still closed, you felt a smile trying to creep up on your face.  You could tell he wanted to know why you were so wet, specifically he wanted you to say that he made you that way, but you decided his ego was already getting enough stroking for the night.

His breathing was heavy and slow, but the pace of his hips picked up.  When you blinked your eyes open, he was staring down at where he was fucking into you; that made you feel a little exposed, but oddly powerful, too.  "Wow," he groaned, "I— I love watching it.  The way it, like… splits open, around my cock… fuck.  That's really sexy."

His next thrust was a little harder, his hips colliding with the back of your thighs as you wrapped your legs around him.

"Mm," you moaned softly, adjusting yourself under him a bit.  "That's nice— you feel good."

"Really?  Fuck, I couldn't feel half as good as you do," he grunted, "'cause if I did you wouldn't be able to be so quiet."

"I'm just listening to you," you explained with a smirk.

"Can you feel the, uh, head?  Like you said before?"

You nodded.  "It's rubbing this one place inside me— it feels good."

"Oh, fuck," he purred, starting to move faster.  "Tell me that again."

"It feels good, Eddie," you groaned, "you feel good."

"Fu-uck," he whined, shutting his eyes tight and tilting his head back.  "How good?"

You knew he could be a little competitive, and you smirked slightly.  "Better than the other guys," you answered, figuring that was what he wanted to hear.

"Do you— fuck— do you let a lotta guys do this?" he asked roughly.  "Just— use you, to come?"

You shook your head.  "No— I need something from them, they have to make me come.  But you don't have to, Eddie, I don't need you to do anything to me except whatever you want."

"God," he choked, "that's— fuck. you're way too nice.  I-I’m gonna— fuck, I don’t think I can last very long.”

You just smiled and reached up to hold onto his shoulder.  “S’fine, you can come— I want you to.”

“Really?” he whined.  “Fuck, I’m not very good at this, am I?”

“Just come,” you encouraged, “it’s okay, Eddie, just come inside me—”

The second you said that, he groaned weakly, head falling onto your shoulder; you felt it a second later as he gave you a few more weak thrusts, the flexing of his cock as he finished inside.  Sighing in satisfaction, you shut your eyes and wrapped your arms around him tightly.  

After a long silence, with his heavy breathing falling on your ear, Eddie rolled off and onto his back beside you on the mattress.  “You look different,” you giggled as you turned to look at him while he stared up at the ceiling.

“I feel different,” he agreed.  “That was— yeah.  That was different.”

“Good different?”

He looked back at you, finally, with raised eyebrows.  “Are you jok— yeah!  Fuck yeah, that was— Christ.”

There was another long silence, maybe a few minutes’ worth, but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all.  You and Eddie were always pretty good at silences.  This one was heavier, and more meaningful, but just as natural as usual: until he broke it.

“Wanna do it again?” he asked softly.

Your eyes widened.  “Uh— fuck, now?”

“Yeah,” he grinned at you.  “I’m still— maybe this time you could actually— you know, uh—”

You bit your lip as he stammered over a few different sentences.

“Or if that’s all you wanna do, you know, with me, that’s fine,” he promised, “but, um… I feel bad, you know, that you didn’t…”

“Okay, yeah,” you agreed quickly, “I mean, if you can still—”

You hadn’t even finished your sentence before he was inside you again.  Moaning louder, you tilted your head back and held onto his sides as he fucked you; his mouth latched onto your neck and you let out a small whimper.  “Fuck,” he mumbled against your skin, “fuck— you feel so good…”

“I— Eddie, I didn’t think you could—” you began.

“I didn’t think I could either,” he laughed, “but it’s just— fuck, you’re so… I just need to— god…”

His thrusts were harder and faster than they’d been before, and everything was so slick with his come still leaking out of you; it was filthy in the best way.

“I didn’t think you’d let me do it twice.  I… I really don’t deserve this,” he insisted quietly.

"Yeah, you do," you breathed.  "You're so sweet, Eddie, you're my best friend— dunno what I'd do without you—"

"I lied," he blurted out suddenly.  "I thought about it before.  About how you would feel."

You barely even remembered the part of the conversation he was talking about.  

"All the time, god, I thought about it all the time," he admitted with a lowered voice, resting his head on your shoulder, fucking you even deeper until your eyes rolled back.  "Thought about it while I jerked myself off— how your pussy would feel.  And it's so much better than I thought it'd be.  You're really tight— I didn't know if you would be, 'cause, y'know, you're a slut."

You wanted to correct him on that old myth about tightness and promiscuity, but you were too busy trying not to moan so loud the next door trailers would hear.

"Fuck," he laughed, "you got even tighter when I called you that.  Slut."

"Freak," you choked out through a moan, your instinctive response.

"You haven't seen the freak yet, princess," he smirked proudly, lifting his head up to look down at you.  "I wanted to fuck you different than this, too— I thought about fucking you from behind.  Smacking your ass and watching it bounce on me.  Making you fucking scream."

"God, Eddie," you whined.

"Is this how they talk to you?  All those guys you let put their cocks in you, do they treat you like this?"

"N-not exactly…"

"Well, that's too bad," he whispered, "'cause I can tell this is how you like it.  Am I wrong?  Do you like being fucked like a whore, and called one?"

"Yes," you sobbed, "yes, Eddie, I… I like it rough.  And mean."

He chuckled.  "That explains a lot.  I can be mean, sweetheart."

The kiss he planted on your cheek, though, was gentle and delicate.

"Or I can be nice," he added in a whisper.  "I can be whatever you want."

“Just… be yourself,” you decided, sounding more like an inspirational poster than you intended to.  He smiled and kissed you on the lips after that, reaching down to hold onto your thighs.

Well, it turns out Eddie ‘being himself’ in bed means fucking you mercilessly.  And he was holding onto you mainly to keep you steady so he could rail you halfway to fucking death.

It was useless trying to keep quiet now, while he treated you this way, and so your loud moans were muffled only by his lips on yours; until, of course, he broke away and you could hear them echoing around the messy bedroom.

"So good," he grunted, "so— so fucking good.  Such a perfect pussy, can't believe you're letting me use it.  I'm so fucking lucky— my best friend is a hot slut, I'm so lucky—"

You arched your back a little deeper still, clinging to him tightly, feeling totally helpless in the best possible way.

"Gonna let me use this pussy again?" he taunted.

"Yeah," you breathed.

"Whenever I want, right?  You can be my little toy, baby.  Your pussy can be my toy."

"Yes!"

"And I'll keep you so full of come," he promised, "so full, all the fucking time, you're gonna make my cock feel so good— fuck, baby, you're gonna let me get my cock wet all the time."

"Yeah, Eddie, fuck," you moaned.  

"You're so pretty," he blurted out, and you almost laughed because of the sudden change of tone.  "God, baby, you're so pretty— you look so pretty like this."

"On my back?" you smirked.

"N-no, you don't understand," he whined, leaning down so his chest was pressed to yours, whispering against your ear.  "You're beautiful."

You smiled a little, holding onto him tighter.

"And I thought that before you let me fuck you," he promised.  "I always thought you were beautiful.  And that it should be me and not those guys you go home with."

"Y-you were right," you admitted, "but— we're still just… just friends, right?"

"Shut up, you're not fucking listening," he groaned, "I— god, I love you, okay?"

Your eyes were definitely just watering because of the intensity of it all; you hid your face in his shoulder, biting your lip, feeling your toes curl just above where your ankles were crossed around his hips.

"I love you and we can't just be friends anymore.  You feel too good… I'm sorry, baby, we can't just be friends, I fucking need you."

“I— fuck, Eddie,” you whined.

“You love me too, right?” he breathed.  Shyly, you nodded against him.  “Then say it— baby, please, I need you to say it.”

“I love you too,” you choked out.  “I need you too—”

"Oh my god I'm gonna come again," he gasped, tilting his head back.  "Fuck fuck fuck, I'm gonna come inside you again.  You're gonna be so full, baby.  Gonna fuck you so full…"

“F-fuck, please, please,” you sobbed, your beaten walls clenching up every time he slammed himself into you all the way— it was too deep, but the right amount of too deep, somehow.  “Please, Eddie, fuck!”

“I’m coming,” he grunted in a low and gravelly voice that made your spine tingle, “I— fuck, I’m coming again, fuck—”

This time, he stopped completely and suddenly, burying himself inside you with a long, deep moan.  He slipped his arms under your arched back and hugged you tightly.  This silence was much longer than the last, and a little less comfortable; there were all these questions hanging in it, including but not limited to: did he really mean all that?  Did I really mean all that?  Why haven’t we been doing this the whole time?  Why is he so good at that?  Are we dating now?  Is this going to ruin everything?

It didn’t seem like it would ruin anything— actually, to you, everything felt right in a way it never had.  You’d never really admitted to yourself how you felt about Eddie, let alone anyone else— let alone him, right now, in the middle of some spontaneous sex that you thought was going to change everything but actually made things suspiciously the same as ever.

That was what you realized, then: that this hadn’t actually changed anything.  You’d loved him before tonight.  You’d wanted this for a while.  You’d needed him as long as you could remember.  Everything could continue on as normal— except, hopefully, and presumably, that you’d be fucking a lot more.

As your mind raced, Eddie’s was completely and totally blank in a way it never had been in his life.  He was entirely blissed out, and only came to when you shifted under him and made him hiss in a breath through his teeth.

Lifting his head, he looked down at you, reaching up to pet your cheek with his thumb and hum happily to himself.  That moment couldn’t last too long, though, especially when he realized he’d failed at his goal: “Shit,” he groaned, “you didn’t come that time either, did you?” 

You shook your head sheepishly, about to assure him that it was fine— there’d be other chances, clearly, and tonight was already more than perfect without that.  He’d still done way better than you could’ve ever expected for a guy who was a virgin half an hour ago.  

But before you could say any of that, he’d pulled you into a lazy, yet hungry, kiss; he smiled against your lips as his tongue carefully teased yours, holding your face in his hands.  You were totally dazed when he pulled away, blinking up at him with totally undeserved innocence, and he had the most devilish look in his eyes.  “Guess that means we’ll have to go for another round, huh?” he asked.  But it wasn’t a question: he’d decided, and so had you.

simu liu: *existing*

me: