munsonstorm - Tumblr blog

munsonstorm · 2 days ago

Text

third time's the charm

pairing: johnny storm x reader

summary: johnny is a great husband, and an even better father to your two beautiful girls. but who said he was stopping there?

wc: 4.1k

warnings: 18+ mdni, shameless smut, porn with (minimal) plot, established relationship, domestic bliss, flirting, banter, tooth-rotting parental fluff, johnny is the best dad in the world, bratty!dom!johnny, sub!reader, dirty talk, cunnilingus, squirting contest let's see who can squirt the farthest, unprotected sex, p in v, heavy temperature play because OBVIOUSLY, body worship, creampie, lactation kink, heavy breeding kink if that wasn't exceedingly obvious, sorry guys i'm a FREAK!johnny truther, actually reader and johnny are both freaked tf out

The girls were supposed to be asleep an hour ago.

Supposed to be.

But the minute H.E.R.B.I.E. rolled into the living room with that low, cheery two-note beep, both of them had already abandoned their blanket fort on the couch and scrambled to the window.

Little palms pressed to the glass, warm breath fogging it up, they were shoulder to shoulder in their matching footie pajamas, squealing every time a streak of orange flickered between the skyline.

He was late tonight.

Too late for them, really—the youngest had been rubbing her eyes for the past half hour, head lolling on her sister’s shoulder in those in-between moments before the next flare lit up the clouds. But they refused to budge.

You’d tried. Told them Daddy would be home soon, and that they’d see him in the morning, and that bedtime wasn’t something you could just negotiate with the way he did. But they’re his girls. His stubborn little co-conspirators.

So you let them win.

Just this once.

You were still in the kitchen when the first low whump of displaced air rattled the hanging light fixtures. A quick, warm gust rolled in through the half-open balcony door, carrying the faintest edge of smoke and something sharper—the usual ozone. The beeps from H.E.R.B.I.E. quickened in pitch, his squat frame swiveling toward the glass doors just before the shape of him appeared.

Johnny Storm. Human torch, father of the year, and currently floating half a foot above the balcony railing like it was all for show—which, let’s be real, it definitely was.

Your girls screamed. A full-bodied, delighted sound that cracked into giggles before it even finished. You couldn’t even cross the room in time before they’d already barreled out barefoot into his arms.

He caught them both in one effortless sweep, one on each arm, spinning slow and dramatic until they squealed again. “What’s this? My fan club’s still awake? Don’t tell me you stayed up just for me.”

The oldest nodded so hard you could hear her hair beads click together. “We waited! We saw you in the sky!”

“Yeah?” He kissed her cheek, then the youngest’s, alternating back and forth until they were both squirming and shrieking. “Guess that means I’ve got the best little spotters in the city. My own personal tower control. You ladies approve my landing?”

H.E.R.B.I.E. beeped low from the doorway, almost like he was trying to confirm it. Johnny just shot him a smirk over their heads.

“See? Even the little tin can agrees. Best. Ground crew. Ever.”

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed but smiling so wide it almost hurt. This—the ridiculous warmth of it, the way he fit so perfectly into this role you’d both stumbled into—it never got old.

He stepped inside with them, shoes still faintly dusty with… whatever. The shag rug muted the sound of his steps as he padded toward you, his warmth brushing over your skin before he even got close. The girls clung to him like little koalas, and he didn’t seem to mind one bit.

“Long day?”

“Too long. Missed my girls.”

He softened as he looked at you, and it was the kind of look that always made you feel like the rest of the world was background noise.

The oldest piped up. “We made cookies! But Mommy said the rest are for breakfast.”

He gasped like she’d just told him the best secret in the world. “Breakfast cookies? What kind of high-class, A-list treatment is this?”

“She put sprinkles,” the youngest mumbled against his shoulder, already sounding half-asleep.

“Oh, sprinkles. Dangerous. Might have to get up early for that.” He caught your gaze again, a smirk curling at the edge. “Or maybe we’ll just stay in bed and see if we can talk Mommy into a little room service.”

You rolled your eyes, but heat prickled at your neck.

Johnny shifted the youngest higher against his chest, brushing her curls back from her face. “Someone’s fading.”

“She fought it as long as she could,” you said.

“Chip off the ol’ block.” He kissed the crown of her head, voice low but still threaded with that soft pride you’d never get tired of hearing. “C’mon, let’s get you both tucked in.”

H.E.R.B.I.E. trailed behind as he carried them down the hallway, his beeps gentle now, almost like a lullaby. The warm amber light from the fixtures caught on the rounded wood edges of the walls, casting long shadows that swayed with their movement.

He settled them into their beds, pulling the covers up and smoothing them over with a care that made your chest ache. There was no rush in him now, no spark-show or crowd-pleasing grin. Just Johnny tucking in his girls like it was the most important mission of his life.

“Daddy?” the oldest murmured as he adjusted her blanket.

“Yeah, sunshine?”

“You’re gonna be here in the morning, right?”

That did it. That little crack in her voice, the worry she didn’t quite understand yet.

He leaned down, pressing a long kiss to her forehead. “Right here. Whole day. Promise.”

She smiled, eyes slipping shut. The youngest was already gone, her tiny hand curled into his shirt until he eased it free.

Back in the living room, the faint hum of H.E.R.B.I.E.’s motors was the only sound for a moment. Johnny stood in the doorway, looking back toward their room like he didn’t quite want to leave yet.

You stepped up behind him, looping your arms around his waist. He was still warm from the flight, that low, steady heat seeping into you like sunlight.

“They love you so much,” you whispered.

He glanced down, his grin smaller now, softer. “Yeah. Think I’m kinda hooked on ‘em, too.” Then he turned in your arms, his hands sliding slow to your hips, that playful gleam reappearing. “Still think we’ve got room for a couple more, y’know.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’ve been home all of fifteen minutes.”

“Exactly.” He bent closer, voice low enough that you felt it more than heard it. “Plenty of time to get started.”

H.E.R.B.I.E. beeped twice, in an almost annoyed tone that you both knew meant get a room.

Johnny tilted his head toward him with that lopsided grin, still holding you close. “Message received, pal.” Then his eyes came back to you—and didn’t leave. “Though, for the record… I was already on my way.”

You barely had time to register the shift before his arms were under you, one scooping behind your back, the other hooking under your thighs. He lifted you like it cost him nothing—like you weighed less than the heat still rolling off him—and you instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist.

His mouth was on yours before you even left the living room.

Greedy wasn’t the word.

It was hunger.

Molten and unashamed, poured into every kiss. His hands shifted against you, tightening his hold like he couldn’t risk the smallest gap between you. He walked without breaking contact, his lips chasing yours every time you moved to breathe.

You smiled against his mouth. “Coming up on only twenty minutes now.”

“Mmh,” he murmured, not even pretending to pull back, “and you’re already talking too much.”

You laughed, which only made him press harder, his thumb stroking slow along the inside of your thigh as he pushed open the bedroom door with his foot. The hinges gave a little groan, but he didn’t care — just nudged it shut again with his heel in one practiced motion, never breaking the seal of your kiss.

“You missed me that much?” you teased when you finally tilted your head away, lips brushing his jaw instead.

“Missed everything,” he said, voice rougher now, the kind of rasp that made it impossible to tell where the charm ended and the truth began. “Missed your voice, your face, this—” He pressed you tighter against him until the words caught in his throat. “—and yeah, maybe I’m a little greedy about it.”

“A little,” you echoed, grinning.

He set you down on the bed with a care that didn’t match the want in him—easing you back onto the comforter, his hands braced on either side of your hips. For a second, you thought he might slow down. Then his mouth was back on yours with a desperation that wasn’t present before, his knee nudging between your legs like the bed wasn’t even there to stop him from closing the space.

“You have no idea,” he murmured between kisses, “how many times I thought about this today.”

“Oh, I think I do,” you breathed, brushing your fingers through his hair.

He pulled back just far enough to give you that smirk, the one that always came right before trouble. “Careful. I’ve got enough energy left to prove it.”

You arched a brow. “Energy? Or ego?”

“Both,” he shot back instantly, leaning in to catch your bottom lip between his teeth before you could fire back. “And you love it.”

He wasn’t wrong.

You’d barely gotten that thought out before Johnny was shifting—sliding lower on the bed with that kind of casual precision that told you this was all pure intent.

“Lie back, sweetheart,” he said, voice warm and smug in a way that melted right into your spine. His hands skimmed your hips like he was memorizing them all over again, thumbs catching under the hem of your shirt. “Gonna make you remember exactly why you put up with me.”

“Pretty sure I already know—”

“Mm. Don’t ruin the reveal,” he interrupted, and then the shirt was gone, tossed somewhere he didn’t even bother to look. His palms were hot, just enough to make goosebumps bloom when he slid them up your ribs, tracing the curves until he hooked his fingers in your waistband. “These too.”

You lifted your hips, and he peeled the rest of you bare like it was his right—because it was.

Then he just… looked. One knee braced on the bed, his head tilted in that slow, appreciative way that made you want to squirm.

“You’re already warm,” he murmured, settling between your thighs. “Could crank it up a little, though. You want that?”

The question was pure tease, but the faint flicker of heat against your skin wasn’t. His hands slid up the insides of your thighs, carrying that faint, impossible glow that only he could manage.

“Johnny—”

“Yeah, that’s it,” he said, grinning like you’d just given him the best answer without saying anything at all. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your knee, then another, working higher with unhurried deliberation until his breath brushed your center. “Missed the taste of you almost as much as I missed your smart mouth.”

You laughed, but it stuttered when his tongue slid through you—broad, slow, deliberate.

“Mm, there she is,” he hummed against you, his warmth pressing in little pulses that made you gasp. “God, you’re sweet. Think I could live down here.”

“Not complaining,” you managed, breath catching when he did it again—deeper this time, the tip of his tongue curling just right before he pulled back to speak.

“Good. ‘Cause I’m not stopping until you’re making the same sounds you make when I’m fuckin’ you.”

Your hands flew to his hair, threading through the soft strands as his mouth returned to you, hungrier now. His thumbs pressed into your hips, holding you steady when you tried to grind up against him. The faint heat from his palms seemed to sink right into your bones, drawing every nerve to the surface.

“Say it,” he murmured without looking up.

“What?”

“That you missed me, too.”

You laughed, breathless. “I missed you.”

“Say it again. Didn’t hear you the first time.”

Liar.

“I missed you.”

His mouth curved into a grin you could feel against you, and then he was gone—just for a second—before his tongue pressed flat against your clit, heat blooming sharp and fast right there. Your hips jerked before you could stop them.

“That too hot?” he teased, but he didn’t ease up.

“No,” you gasped, and it came out so fast he chuckled.

“Yeah, didn’t think so.”

He kept at it, alternating between that delicious warmth and a cooler sweep of his tongue, keeping you teetering. Every drag was intentional—broad and slow one moment, quick and flicking the next—until your thighs were trembling so hard you could barely keep them open for him.

“Johnny—”

“Mm,” he hummed against you, the sound vibrating straight through your core. “That’s my name, sweetheart. You better keep saying it.”

He tilted his head, sealing his mouth over your clit and sucking—slow at first, like he wanted you to feel every ounce of pressure before he let go. Your hips bucked without permission, but his hands were already locked around your thighs, holding you exactly where he wanted you.

“Look at you,” he murmured, pulling back just long enough to smirk up at you, his chin glistening. “Can’t even keep still. You that needy for me?”

“Yes—”

“Say it.” His voice was low, thick with a smug knowingness, before he dove back in, tongue working tight circles around you.

“I’m—fuck—needy for you,” you gasped, your fingers twisting hard in his hair.

“That’s better.” He gave you one long, deep lick from the very bottom of you to the top, savoring it like he was tasting the first bite of something sinful. “You been keeping this all to yourself while I was gone?”

Your laugh came out broken, but he didn’t give you the chance to answer—his mouth covered you again, sucking harder now, his tongue flicking quick over your clit until you couldn’t think.

“Johnny—please—”

“Please what?” he teased, not letting up for a second. “You wanna come on my face? Make a mess for me?”

The way he said it—like it was an order you’d be stupid not to obey—made heat coil tight and fast in your stomach.

“Mm, I can feel you,” he groaned against you, each word spilling hot across your skin. “All twitchy and close. You’re not gonna hold out on me, are you? ‘Cause I’ll keep you here all night, sweetheart. I’ll eat this pretty pussy until you forget your own damn name.”

Your breath hitched hard, your thighs trying to close around his head, but he just pushed them wider.

“Oh, that’s it. Give it to me,” he coaxed, his tongue relentless. Every time you tried to pull back from the intensity, he chased you, holding you right where he wanted you, his mouth sealed to you like he’d die if you pulled him away.

The feeling built too fast, too sharp, your moans spilling over into little gasps as he sucked hard, pulling your clit between his lips and rolling it with his tongue until your entire body locked tight.

“Johnny—oh my god—”

“Yeah, come on, baby. Let me drink you up,” he groaned, and the rasp in his voice tipped you over.

You broke—your cry sharp and wrecked as the orgasm hit, flooding you in waves that made your vision blur. He didn’t just take it. He devoured it, moaning low as he lapped up every drop of your come, his tongue sweeping over you like he couldn’t get enough.

“Fuck, yes,” he murmured against you, licking slow now, almost reverent, even as he chased the last of it from your skin. “Mine. Every bit of you, mine.”

When he finally pulled back, his mouth was slick and shining, his grin lazy and filthy. He licked his bottom lip slow, like he wanted you to watch him savor it.

“You taste like you missed me.”

You let your head fall back into the pillows, still catching your breath, but you managed a grin that was far too smug for someone whose thighs were still trembling. “Maybe I just taste like that all the time.”

His brows lifted, mouth quirking in that dangerous little half-smile. “Mm. That so?”

“Mmhm,” you hummed, pretending nonchalance even as your voice came out shaky. “Guess you’ll just have to keep checking… you know, for consistency.”

“Oh, I’ll check,” he said, voice dropping to a low promise as he pushed himself up over you. “Daily. Hourly. Hell, I might just make it a full-time job.”

You laughed, but it turned into a soft gasp when his hands—burning now, no pretending otherwise—slid up your sides.

“Sweetheart, I’m just getting started.” He kissed you quick and filthy, like he wanted to make sure you could still taste yourself on his lips, before sitting back on his knees. The grin stayed, but his hands were already at his belt, and the speed with which he stripped out of his clothes told you patience wasn’t in the cards.

Jacket, shirt, shoes, pants—every layer hit the floor in seconds. He gave himself a slow pump, eyes locked on you like he was lining up a shot he’d been aiming for all day.

He hooked his hands under your knees, dragging you down the bed until your hips were flush with his. The tip of him pressed fevered against your entrance, and he rolled his hips just enough to coat himself in your slick before pulling back an inch.

“You ready for me?” he asked, faux polite.

“Always.”

That earned you another one of those smirks, the ones that warned you he was about to be trouble. He eased in slow—so slow it felt almost taunting, that thick stretch pushing into you inch by inch, giving you nowhere to go.

“God, you feel—” His words cut off in a groan right against your ear as he bottomed out, pressing deep until his hips were flush to yours. “—fuck, you feel like home.”

You didn’t have time to respond before he set the pace.

Slow only for the first two thrusts, then faster, deeper, each snap of his hips forcing little sounds out of you you couldn’t swallow back.

“Mm, that’s it,” he breathed, bracing one hand beside your head as the other roamed—palm sliding over your ribs, cupping your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple until you gasped. “So sensitive for me tonight.”

His mouth followed, dragging down your neck, biting at your collarbone before sealing around your nipple and sucking—hard enough to make your back arch. The heat of him there, wet and greedy, sent a shiver through you even as your skin burned.

“Johnny—”

“Yeah,” he groaned, switching to the other breast, his tongue circling, lips tugging like he was trying to draw something from you. “Been thinking about this for weeks. You gonna give it to me?”

Your breath caught. “You’re insane.”

“I’m starving,” he corrected, his grin hot against your skin before he licked a path back up to your jaw. “And you’re perfect.”

The heat between your thighs was overtaken now by the heat of his whole body, his chest damp against yours, every thrust dragging against that spot inside you that made your toes curl. He covered you—mouth on your lips, your shoulder, your throat, the swell of your breast again, licking and sucking like he couldn’t choose which part of you to worship first.

And through it all, the words kept spilling.

“Feel how deep I am, sweetheart? I could keep you so full all night… give you exactly what you’ve been missing.”

“Mm, confident,” you managed, though your voice broke halfway through.

“Not confident,” he murmured, thrusting harder, sharper. “Certain.”

Your nails dug into his back, heat sizzling under your fingertips, his skin nearly too hot to touch now.

“You’re burning up,” you gasped.

“You love it,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.

He leaned in, breath hot in your ear. “You love feeling me melt into you. Makes you wonder what I’ll do when I really let go.”

You swallowed hard, pulse thrumming in your ears, and he chuckled low like he could hear it.

“Mm, thought so.”

But all the confidence in the world couldn’t hide it—Johnny was falling apart.

You could feel it in the way his rhythm faltered, those perfectly measured thrusts stuttering just enough to give him away. The low, easy control in his breathing was gone now, replaced by rougher, sharper grunts that hit your ear every time his hips slammed into yours. The air started to bend around him as his temperature rose, creating something you swore looked like a mirage.

“F—fuck,” he groaned, his forehead dropping to your shoulder for a beat before he forced himself upright again. “You feel so damn good—gonna make me—”

He cut himself off with a harsh thrust, the sound that followed somewhere between a growl and a moan.

“Gonna knock you up again, sweetheart,” he rasped, his voice breaking on the last word as his hips snapped forward. “Gonna keep you so full you can’t even think about anyone else. You’d look so fucking pretty like that—round for me, heavy with it.”

Your breath hitched, but he didn’t stop.

Couldn’t.

“Bet the girls would love a few more sisters,” he went on, the heat in his tone almost as scorching as the skin pressed to yours. “Whole damn building full of ‘em. And Franklin—” a breathless laugh slipped out of him, ragged, “—Franklin would lose his mind over more cousins.”

You moaned, the sound spilling against his jaw, and his thrusts got rougher—messier.

“God, you’d be perfect like that,” he kept going, relentless now, the words tumbling out like he couldn’t stop them. “Belly all tight, tits so full I’d have to get a taste every morning. Walking around glowing for me, letting everyone see who did it to you.”

You couldn’t tell if it was the filth of it or the way his body was burning against yours that made your head spin, but he was barely holding on now, every snap of his hips deeper, hotter, his breath coming in short bursts.

“Gonna put it so deep you can’t lose it,” he panted, his hand coming down to press hard against your lower belly again like he wanted to feel the proof. “Right there. My baby. Our baby.”

“Johnny—”

That did it. His thrusts turned desperate, almost frantic, his hips grinding into yours like he could push himself even deeper. The burn of him was almost unbearable now, sweat slicking your skin where you touched.

“Mine,” he gasped, the word breaking as he slammed forward one last time. “Take it—take all of it—”

The first hot, boiling pulse hit you like a brand, making your back arch hard off the bed. The molten heat of it was unlike anything else—thick, spilling deep and unrelenting, flooding you in slow, hard bursts that didn’t stop.

It was so hot you had to muffle your scream into his shoulder, your teeth catching his skin as the burn spread low and heavy inside you.

He groaned through it, the sound long and wrecked, his hips rolling lazily now just to make sure every drop stayed where he’d put it.

“Yeah,” he panted, voice low and frayed, a satisfied grin pulling at his lips. “That’s gonna stick.”

He stayed buried in you, his cock twitching with aftershocks, and you could feel the slow, obscene trickle of come trying to escape—only for him to press his hips tight again to keep it in.

“Mm, no,” he murmured, almost to himself as he leaned down to lazily kiss along your jaw. “Not wasting a damn drop. Gonna keep it right here, let it soak in nice and deep.” His hand slid to your lower belly again, rubbing in slow circles like he was coaxing it to take.

You shivered again.

“You don’t even know,” he went on, voice softer now but no less filthy, “how good you look like this. Can already picture you—hips swaying, all round for me, walking around the kitchen barefoot with the girls hanging off you. My mark on you for everyone to see.”

Your laugh came out broken, and his smirk deepened.

“Mm, yeah. And you’d still try to sass me, even when I’ve got you pregnant and aching.” His tongue slid over your nipple again, sucking slow and greedy, a low groan vibrating through you. “Bet you’d leak for me early. Bet I’d get you warm and full before breakfast, then have dessert straight from the source.”

Your legs tightened instinctively around him, which he noticed immediately.

“Yeah. You like that thought, don’t you?” His teeth grazed your skin before he soothed the mark with his tongue. “More than like it—you need it.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression equal parts wrecked and proud.

“Guess I’ll just have to keep trying ‘til I’m sure.”

#HELLO??????#this was so fucking good my whole body is on fire #he’s so HOT #johnny storm fic #gracie’s fic recs

885 notes · View notes

munsonstorm · 3 days ago

Text

i. So What?

Pairing: Eddie Munson x hookup!fem!reader

Summary: It’s just sex, right? There’s no room for messy, unrequited feelings, or spiralling negative thoughts. Right??

WC: ~1k

POV: Eddie

C/W: 18+ NSFW MDNI! Mentions of sex and drug use, feelings denial, longing, hurt/no comfort (in this one), open ending

A/N: You know I hate to hurt my blorbos, so there will be resolution, I promise

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Main masterlist

Eddie’s known for a long time that he has to safeguard his emotions. The rockstar lifestyle doesn’t exactly lend itself to the formulation and nurturing of healthy, well-balanced relationships. Which is what he tells himself every time you visit, whenever he’s in town in his serviced apartment for long enough to make the call.

He’d never tell you that he looks forward to your visits more and more each time. That he longs for the end of every tour sooner and sooner now, because of you.

He’d never tell you that thinking of you is what keeps him going on the long nights away. That his mind substitutes the visages of nameless groupies for yours. That he replaces the bitterness of the cocaine rubbed into his gums with the taste of you on his tongue.

He’d never tell you that the last ballad he wrote was all about you.

He’d never admit that there's a pair of your ruined panties balled up in the bottom of his dresser. The ones he tore from you that time you hadn't seen each other in months.

He’d never admit that in the same drawer is the shirt of his that you threw on that time his takeout arrived earlier than expected. When he’d oh so casually asked whether you’d want to join him (in fact, he’d been terrified). It still holds the faintest scent of your perfume, and yeah, perhaps a little post-coital perspiration, from where you’d kept it on as you ate, and he delights in it. He replays on a loop the giggles, gasps and ridiculous stories that erupted from both of you as you’d unexpectedly shared that meal; actions so simple and wholesome and not very rockstar, but for which he yearns for more.

He’d never admit that sometimes at night he retrieves these stolen treasures, inhaling your aroma as he recalls the beautiful noises you make when he caresses your tits, squeezes your hips, slides into you. When he uses that secret move and tilts his pelvis just so, connecting him with the electric core of you. And he'd never admit that sometimes, as he curls up in bed, he just... holds them.

So what if he wants you to stay? Longs for you to spend an entire weekend with him, kissing and fucking and talking, and then fucking some more. Shutting out the world and everyone in it, creating a haven for you two, alone.

So what if you’re easily the most stunning creature he’s ever had in his bed, or anywhere else? That your perfect, tender breasts feel so good in his hands, in his mouth, pressed against his chest. That you have the most gloriously delicious pussy that he’s ever had the privilege of being anywhere near. Or that yours is the most radiant smile he’s ever fucking seen. Or that your sense of humour fills his heart with joy, and generates a warmth within him that he thought he'd forgotten.

And so what if it’s those innocent, ordinary things that make him smile the most…

It doesn’t matter that you have a life that stretches way beyond him. A job, friends, probably a partner, maybe partners plural, who are perfect in every other way but can't quite satisfy you physically like he can. That you have an entire existence that’s rich and full, one that doesn’t involve him.

It doesn’t matter that you just want an occasional, albeit mind blowing, fuck from a semi-famous rockstar whenever he happens to be in town. That the best and most important thing he has to offer you is his dick...

It doesn’t matter that, for the first time in his life, he wants more. That he wants to be around you, to spend time with you, just… being. He wants to watch silly movies, play stupid games, talk about nothing and everything, and not talk at all.

It doesn’t mean anything when, as you're about to fall apart, he looks into your eyes and sees swirling galaxies, and his own soul reflected back at him.

It doesn’t mean anything that the feeling of you sharing his breaths and his moans as you wrap around his cock and suck him in is, for years, the closest thing he’s felt to anything resembling… home.

It doesn’t mean anything that with you, straight, sober and devoid of any frills and trappings, he has the most intense and intimate sex he’s ever had. That he’s never come so ferociously with anyone else. That he’s never before looked forward to the aftercare as much as the fucking. Sometimes even more so.

It doesn’t mean anything…

Who cares if the time you leave keeps getting later and later? You’re probably just avoiding going back to your ordinary life, and prolonging the exotic nature of your forays with him, storing the memories of ‘rockstar sex’ away in your mind to mull over when he’s out of town, or to compare against your other lays. You're probably busy with your normal, everyday life. Because there's no way in hell that you’ll be thinking about him.

Who cares if you're becoming dramatically languid about getting dressed, and you keep crawling back over to him for one last peck? Okay, just one more. No really, this is definitely the last one…

Who cares if each time you’re about to leave you pause, glancing over your shoulder, giving him a small smile and what he’s deluded himself into imagining is a fond look? So what if it sometimes, almost, maybe, possibly looks like you might be waiting, perhaps even hoping, for him to say something. And who cares if he doesn't?

Maybe one day he’ll ask you about your life, what you do. What else you enjoy other than the feeling of various parts of him against or inside various parts of you.

Maybe one day he’ll muster enough courage to tell you how he feels.

Maybe one day he’ll ask you to stay longer. Maybe see if you want to go out, somewhere nice. Maybe even somewhere public.

Maybe today, as you’re about to leave, he’ll sit up, reach for you, grasp at the cooling air where there’s already an unbearable chasm between you, and bravely whisper,

Wait...

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Thanks so much for reading! There’s going to be more parts, posted over the course of this week, because I can’t leave it like this - let me know if you’d like to see them! My general taglist is opennnn…

Main masterlist

General list, luv ya! 🖤 @joejoequinnquinn @jamdoughnutmagician @guiltyasquinn @madaboutmunson @airen256 @sunshinepeachx @the-unforgivenn @skrzydlak @comeonatmebruh @jamiecb66 @80s-addict @abellmunsonmovie @definitionwanderlust @sheneedsrocknroll92 @munson-blurbs @wonderlanddreamer @daisy-munson @maedesculpaeusoubi @kurdtbean @mediocredreams @swiftievibez @micheledawn1975 @littlebebebunny @12thatsanumber @alastorssimp @the-baby-angel @eddie-is-a-god @wolfqueenxxx @losingmygrasponreality @richter-raccoon @1deverland @3rd-conchord @bellalillyrose @steve-loves-eddie @justalotoffanfiction @gracieheartspedro @eddiesecstasy @chronicles-of-koystee @kellsck @cheesesandwichsanto @mdurdenpitt @emxxblog

#cannot wait to read this and all it's parts #I LOVE YEARNING EDDIE #eddie munson fic #gracie's fic recs #tbr list

210 notes · View notes