#(is this a blurb? idk)

[heavenbarnes]

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

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

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

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

“sorry, love”

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

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

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

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

“in here, my love”

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

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

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

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

(and you are)

[loserboysandlithium]

18+ hoes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[littlexdeaths]

eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: hope y’all like CHEESE, reader wears glasses

part two |

let’s go, don’t wait masterlist

a/n: this is incredibly self indulgent and lame but i hope y’all enjoy xx.

“You’re staring… again.”

Nancy says under her breath, which has your eyes immediately darting away and back down toward your lunch out of sheer embarrassment.

“I was not staring….” you hiss, picking at the pile of peas on your tray.

“Oh, you soooo were,” she laughs, knocking her shoulder into yours. “Why don’t you just go and talk to him?”

You let out an exasperated breath before glancing over at your best friend. She’s giving you that soft yet encouraging gaze that’s entirely Nancy.

“Why would someone like him be interested in someone like me?”

Your voice is softer, but that underlying fear bleeds through nonetheless.

“I’m just so….” you trail off, chewing on your lower lip. “Boring.”

Your eyes have drifted back over to the hellfire table, where they seem to find themselves almost every lunch period now. Totally entranced by the male sitting at the end of the table.

Eddie Munson, dungeon master and local metalhead. Also the guy you’ve been harboring the biggest crush on since your junior year.

He looks even prettier with the afternoon sun shining through the windows of the cafeteria, highlighting the warm chestnut hue of his fluffy curls. His lips are poised in an annoyed pout, fingers drumming on the table in rapid succession while he listens to Dustin’s nervous ramblings.

“He’s just so— outgoing and doesn’t give two shits what these dipshits around here think of him.”

Your lips can’t help but quirk up into a small smile when you witness him tossing a pretzel at Mike’s head.

“You are not boring,” Nancy sighs, her curls bouncing when she shakes her head. “But you’re not gonna know if something could work out between you if you don’t at least try.”

Your snort has her rolling her eyes, but yours are still transfixed on the boy in question. So much so that you haven’t noticed the way your glasses continue to slip down the bridge of your nose.

“I doubt he even knows my name, Nance.”

When your eyes suddenly catch his chocolatey brown ones, you feel mortified. You’ve been very careful about your…admiring during lunch or in between classes. But Nancy had momentarily distracted you, and now you’d been caught red handed.

Unbeknownst to you, this isn’t the first time he’s noticed your wandering gaze. Soft eyes that are filled with the utmost longing and kindness. Someone with a reputation such as Eddie Munson doesn’t have looks like that thrown his way very often.

So it’s no surprise he’s caught on.

But you don’t seem to notice the way he always glances back once you look away, dark eyes seeking out your figure in the halls. The longing of his own for you to finally meet his gaze. But your nose is either stuck in a book or those pretty eyes are trained on your feet.

It was maddening.

You quickly break his curious stare and jump to your feet, missing the way he shoots up from his own chair. You sling your backpack over your shoulder and leave your tray abandoned.

“I gotta go…I’ll see you later, Nance,” you say before she even has time to protest, keeping your head down as you make your way toward the exit.

Mentally still kicking yourself for being caught gawking at him like some bumbling idiot. But your heart leaps into your throat when you hear the slapping of sneakers on the linoleum behind you.

Before you can even process what’s happening you all but collide into a denim clad chest, gasping softly when his arms slip around your waist to catch you before you almost stumble backwards onto your ass.

“Whoa, easy there,” he chuckles, those same pouty lips quirking up into a lopsided grin. “Didn’t mean to scare ya…”

When he releases you, your whole body deflates— already missing the warmth of his palms. Even if it was only for a fleeting moment.

“Uh…sorry, did you need something?” you ask, unable to hide the confusion in your tone.

He purses his lips, twisting his rings on his fingers in almost a nervous manner.

Why would he be nervous?

“I just had a question is all…” he mumbles, “and honestly, I’ve been meaning to ask you this for a while now.”

And your heart nearly stops when he carefully pushes your glasses back up the bridge of your nose.

“You free tonight?”

[nativegirltapes]

pairing: toxic!rafe x sweetheart!reader

you and rafe always took 'breaks', but they never lasted. when he asked you to meet him in the middle of the night you could never say no.

you and rafe had been on your longest break yet, going on 3 weeks. and you couldn't lie, you'd been doing really good without him. but you missed him, a lot.

you didn't know why you missed him so much, it was almost like a drug you just couldn't live without despite knowing you're better off without it.

2AM, sitting in your room, music blasting through your earbuds, paging through your favorite clothing catalog; you felt your phone vibrate right next to you. thinking it was pope; the cute pogue you had recently befriended and been texting, you had a slight smile on your face.

that smile faded when you realized it was indeed not pope, but rafe. of course from some random number because you blocked him on his own.

252-###-### - It's me. Can we talk? Meet at tanneyhill in 15? PLS. I love you.

you sighed, partly of self disappointment because you knew you were going to do exactly what he wanted. but also partly from relief, this being you and rafe's longest break, you wondered what had been keeping him so busy from trying to reach out to you. on previous breaks he'd be begging to see you a few days in.

⊹ �� ࣪ ꒰ 🍰 . .

rafe was sat on the front steps of tanneyhill, he looked stressed and upset, but really when wasn't he?

"hey," you said softly, standing in front of him, not wanting to get too close.

"hey." he looked up at you. "thanks for coming."

"yeah." your voice was full of shame. it was embarrassing how you couldn't say no to rafe. you liked to rationalize your embarrassment by convincing yourself that you were doing this for him, that he needed you and how could you say no to someone who needed you? but no, you knew deep down your relationship with rafe was self-inflicted and self indulgent. if you tried hard enough you could say no, but the thing was that you just really didn't want to. and that was the most embarrassing part.

you liked getting treated like you were everything one day, and nothing the next. the feelings rafe made you feel were ones close enough to addiction. the highs were so high, but the lows were low.

rafe patted his lap, signaling for you to come take a seat on his lap. of course you did. "i missed you," rafe placed his hand on your inner thigh.

"missed you too rafe." you were basically now bridal style in his lap, ass on one of his thighs, your legs propped up on the other, and your ams wrapped around his neck. you missed being held like this.

"yeah? how much you miss me?" he had a smirk on his face while looking at you. god he looked so good. you hated how good he always looked.

"i dont know," you giggled softly, "a lot."

"heard you been talking to that pogue," rafe looked into the distance, you could tell he was trying his best to remain calm. "what's his name? pope."

you were confused as to how he would even know that, but to be honest it was probably best you didn't know. "just texting." you immediately defend yourself. "just friendly."

"friendly huh?" rafe scoffs. "do y'know how many guys would love to be 'just friendly' with you?"

"really rafe?" you dropped your legs from his lap. only rafe would invite you over to resolve things just to start another argument.

just as you were about to get up from his lap, he pulled you back down onto it. "cmon don't leave now," rafe moved your hair to the side, leaving the side of your neck that was closest to him on full display. "was just teasin'." his hot breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine.

“i don’t want to be teased.” you sighed under your breath.

“what do you want?”

“i want you to love me.” a singular tear fell down your face, rafe immediately wiping it.

“i do love you,” rafe’s voice was soft in a way you’d never heard before. “i love you more than,” you could tell he was really trying to pick his next words wisely. “i love you more than everything.” rafe kissed you on the cheek, his wet lips colliding with your wet tears.

and maybe that was also half the reason you couldn’t leave rafe. you knew that deep down aside from all the bad things he’s done to you; he has real love in his heart, he just doesn’t know how to show it.

[usedtobecooler]

sexual content minors dni.

the thought of eddie munson just being so desperate and aching in the middle of the night that he sleepily, desperately ruts up against the curve of your ass, tip leaking steadily all over the silk of your sleep shorts.

it’s. a thing. always has been a thing. your shorts meant the green light for him to grind and slide up against you in a feverish heat, moonlight peaking through the gap in the curtains and casting the hasty motions in your shadows.

you’re barely awake, only just rousing enough to get with the program and wiggle up against him, make it known he’s okay to keep going even as you bury your face into the pillow sleepily. you roll your hips, marvelling in the way his length kicks up at the movement.

he’s plastered right up against you from chest to thighs, moaning high pitched and desperate into your ear, mouthing at your neck as he ruts a little quicker. until he slides against you differently, askew enough to have his entire shaft slipping between the apex of your thighs, nestled in the tight heat of your sweaty skin, the curve of his tip slipping over your clit through a thin layer of satin.

“please, please baby, lemme stay here. can i?” he begs, peppering kisses against your shoulder and you can’t help but nod when he slides between your thighs again and nudges that bundle once more.

it’s hot, sweaty, the steady stream of pre leaking from his flushed red tip more than enough to slick up the way as he thrusts inside your thighs. you moan, can’t help yourself as the prickle of heat and want shoots up your spine and buries deep. you never expected it to feel so good, to keep you stimulated as much as it did him.

“so fucking good, sweetheart. even your thighs fuck me up, so tight.” eddie’s so stuck to your back he’s practically moulding into you, the bite of his fingertips teetering on painful in the dip of your waist as he uses his grip for leverage to keep thrusting. his curls stuck to your sweaty skin, kisses turning to biting and sucking as he teeters close.

you can’t help the noises that fall from your own lips, needy and hungry for it. it feels good. so good. to feel how desperate he is to get off, listen to how pathetic he sounds being brought to the edge by nothing more than the squeeze of your thighs and the roll of your hips. he knew how to make your head big, so in love with you and turned on by your body that he’d fuck any part you were willing to offer up.

it’s all too much, even with your eyes shut. so when you open them and look down, watching the head of his cock sliding in and out of your thighs and covering you in creamy spatters, it’s too much. your body coils tight like a spring and you’re reaching your own peak before he reaches his, clamping your thighs even tighter with the sheer force of it.

“holy shit, did you—? oh god, fuck it’s so wet, ngh,” eddie thrusts behind you sporadically, sucking right on the tip of your shoulder as he cums in between your thighs, thick spurts soothing the slight sting of your skin, painting you in a gorgeous pearlescent mess.

[puckinghischier]

jack & luke loving quinn’s gf almost as much as he does bc suddenly they have an older sister they can call for advice on the most random things…

“so, hypothetically, if i wanted to get a pedicure, would they give it to me since i’m a guy?” jack asks you over the phone.

you stop in your tracks, right in front of your car, baffled at the question. “jack, is this seriously what you called me four times about?”

“i mean, yeah. you weren’t picking up. thought you and quinn might be screwing and wanted to break that up as soon as i thought about it,” he admits like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

“jack!” you scolded, scoffing at his crudeness. “i was picking up some snacks for the guys before their game today. i couldn’t even get to my phone if i wanted to,” you roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you.

“you make it sound like you were ignoring me on purpose,” he says, basically being able to hear the pout on his face.

“i wasn’t not ignoring you on purpose.”

he smacks his teeth at your answer, returning to his original question. “anyways, will they do a pedicure on my gnarly man feet or no?”

you don’t even try to hide the laugh that escapes you, opening your door and finally sitting down in your car. “yes jack, they’ll give you a pedicure. are you actually going to go get one?”

“yes! dude, have you seen my feet lately? they’re disgusting. plus, quinn was telling luke and i about that time you made him do one with you and how much better his feet felt in his skates afterwards.”

you think about the fact that quinn now has monthly pedicure appointments with you, not shocked at all that he shared the information with his younger brothers.

“jack! is that y/n? i need to talk to her!” you hear luke yell in the background of jack’s call, stopping whatever response you were about to give.

you hear shuffling, insinuating the exchange of the phone. “hey! y/n! so, i need your advice.”

“hi, luke, i’m good, thanks for asking! how are you?” your voice drips with sarcasm.

“yeah, hi and whatever,” he dismisses you. “so, if you were a girl, would you rather your date wear a pink shirt to show he’s not a toxic guy, or would you rather him wear blue or black to show he’s serious about the date?”

once again, you pause. you look over to the side, as if there’s an invisible camera there and mouth a ‘what?’

“okay, well first of all i am a girl-“

“well yeah, but like…a real girl. one that isn’t dating quinn and would be ready to hop on the luke train,” he interrupts you, earning his own roll of your eyes.

“as i was saying,” you ignore his interruption, “i am a girl, and i don’t think it’s that serious? wear whatever you wanna wear. if she likes you, she likes you. if she doesn’t, she doesn’t. i don’t think wearing pink is going to either hurt or help the date.”

the line is silent for a moment. “i think i’m going to wear pink anyways. you know, just to let her know i’m not a douche,” he finally speaks.

“okay, well, if that’s what you want to do, then do it-“

“thanks, y/n! bye!” you’re cut off yet again, hearing the line go dead. groaning, you call quinn, letting him know you’re on your way with the food.

“hey, baby! you get the catering order yet?” quinn’s excited voice fills your car as you turn it on and put it in drive.

“yeah, i got it. on my way now. just got off the phone with your idiot brothers,” you tell him, pulling out into traffic.

“oh god, what did they want this time?” he asks you, knowing how often you’re plagued with calls from his siblings.

“well, jack wanted to know if he could book a pedicure appointment even though he’s a man, and then luke wanted to know if he should wear pink on his date so he doesn’t look like a douche,” you give the short version of your conversations.

quinn lets out a laugh, not at all surprised at his brothers.

“quinn, we’ve gotta set some ground rules. i can’t keep doing this. i don’t know how you dealt with this by yourself for all these years. and god, your sweet mother. i feel for her,” you say not entirely seriously, knowing they call ellen more than they call you, if that’s even possible.

“baby, they love you. you’re the big sister they never had, they’re just excited to finally have someone to ask this stuff to other than mom. because mom usually tells them to figure it out on their own,” he chuckles, knowing how much both luke and jack have told him they loved having you around.

“well, i’m about to take the ellen approach because they make me want to pull my hair out sometimes, those disgustingly lovable heathens,” you tell your boyfriend, never really being able to say anything bad about the brothers. they’re like excited puppies anytime they get to see you in person, and it does melt your heart a little bit each time.

“i’ll talk to them about it,” quinn’s still laughing at how you can’t help but talk about how much you love his brothers, even when you’re aggravated at them. “just focus on getting here. i miss you, wanna see you before game time.”

“okay, be there in like-“ you stop talking when your ringtone blares through your car.

“god, its jack again. i gotta go, i’ll see you in a few minutes,” you groan, ending the call to answer the interruption.

“what is it this time, jack?”

[bloodibambiidoll]

18+MNDI

Thinking about Frat!Rafe and his frat bros having a car wash, not because they need money, no, it’s all just one big real life thirst trap. Their rich dad’s fund the frat so they’re absolutely going to just use the money on more beer. He begs you to come by because you’re “the only girl he wants to see there” and it doesn’t hurt that he can flex his hot girlfriend and the nice car he bought you on his bros.

“Rafe, you literally took my car through the car wash yesterday.”

“So? Don’t you wanna see me all soapy and wet, baby?”

So of course you end up going. You put on a slutty little outfit because if you’re going to go, you’re going to look hot. When you pull up next to him he smirks at you, his hair is slicked back from being wet, and his bare chest is glistening in the sun, little droplets of soap and water dripping down his abdomen. He runs over to your little car, leaning down to look at you, tapping his finger on your window. You roll your eyes as you roll it down.

“There’s my girl, gimme kiss.” He has to practically fold himself in half to push his head into the window, he takes your face in his hands and presses his lips against yours. When he pulls back, eyes roam the little pink top that accentuates your tits perfectly and the matching little pink skirt that’s ridden up your thighs while you were driving. “Damn baby, this all for me?”

“Always for you, daddy. Now chop, chop, wash my car.” You snap your fingers at him, sending him a wink before rolling your window up.

And wash your car he does. He makes a whole scene of it, pressing his swim trunk covered cock against the drivers window while he soaps up the roof, laying practically his whole body across your windshield, his soap slick abs on full display against the glass. He draws little hearts in the soap, blowing you kisses, sending you those fucking smirks that drive you crazy. When he’s done, he pulls open your door, practically ripping you from the drivers seat.

“You didn’t think I was gonna let you come here and not get my hands on you, did you?” One of his large hands laces through your hair while the other grabs your hip, pressing your back against your wet car before crashing his lips against yours. It’s a hungry kiss, all tongues and teeth. His brothers whoop and cheer around you but you don’t even care because he feels so good. “Now chop, chop, baby, run along. I’ll see your cute little ass later.”

He pats your ass twice before pulling away from you, opening your door for you and walking away, leaving you breathless and wet in more ways than one.

[loveshotzz]

18+

Thinking about Steve flirting with you at a party by comparing hand sizes.

You’d be sitting a little nervous in the corner picking at the label on your beer bottle, trying not to stare when he slides easily into the empty seat next to you on the couch like you were saving it just for him.

He’d run one of his big hands through his hair before giving you the kind of smile that makes you bite your bottom lip and duck your head to hide how flustered you are. The loud music is the perfect excuse for him to have to dip his head down, full lips brushing against the shell of your ear every time he talks.

The empty space between you gets smaller, eventually turning into your legs draped across his lap making the bottom hem of your dress rise. Tucked into his side, the warmth of his palm would find a new home on the soft skin of your thigh.

Giggling at jokes that aren’t nearly as funny as he is handsome, your fingers reach for his absentmindedly. Playing with the the gold band that wraps around his middle finger, you can’t help but realize just how big his hands actually are.

He waits until your fingertips trace to the tops of his before he intertwines them. Foreheads pressed together, your noses brush when you look up to smile all giddy when he flattens his palm against yours lifting your hands so you can see the difference.

It makes you squirm in his lap seeing them compared like this, and it makes you think about how they’d grab at your curves. How his long fingers would feel splitting you open after pushing your panties to the side. He lets them slide between the empty space of yours closing your hand in his grasp, watching it completely disappear in his hold and god you just want him to kiss you already.

[cowboylor]

gold-skinned eager baby

— the only thing that can bring charles down to earth after a race. charles leclerc x fem!reader (18+) oral (f. receiving), soft dom charles, (1) spank.

your sundress is hiked up to your waist before he sinks to his knees.

charles fists the floral pattern in his hand, snaking the other to hastily rub his fingers against you—quickly, without keeping rhythm in mind, anything to keep you whimpering into his neck.

“charles,” you’re saying between his rough kisses. “baby—”

you can't finish any thought when he gets like this. so stoic and eager to have his way with you that you can't help but abandon all words and let him spread your legs however he pleases.

when he finally trails past your navel and he's peering up at you from his knees, you're dry-mouthed and not sure where to put your hands.

“let me taste you,” he orders gruffly, using both hands to keep your dress above your panty line. your head falls back when you feel his breath waft over your clothed core. pressing his mouth against you, he murmurs, “open up for me, mon amour.”

you’re suppressing your moan through bitten lips, resisting the urge to press yourself deeper onto his face but trying to remain considerate.

“you—” you feel your eyelids involuntarily flutter when his nose nudges against your clit. “you don’t have to.”

your body shudders when you feel him chuckle against you, before moving to look you in the eye. you swallow roughly, staring back at his dark eyes that seem more blown out than usual.

“this,” his fingertips hook around the band of your underwear. “is for me.”

it becomes clear. pleasing you is always something charles has been able to control. something that he takes pride in—hearing the noise you make whenever he takes you over the edge is something he'll remember even after he forgets his own name. it's a constant. it can't be taken away by a bad qualifying session. and when would you ever deny him?

he’s quick with it; his calloused hands running up your thighs before gripping them tightly, pulling you against his mouth again. he presses a wet kiss against your swollen bud, murmuring incoherent praises into you until you’re whining and pulling his hair with nowhere to go but the wall behind you.

“charles,” you gasp his name like a prayer. “please.”

he hitches your leg over his shoulder, his mouth continuing to work against your cunt—drawing sloppy, figure eights with the tip of his tongue and glancing up at you for stolen looks at your fucked-out expression.

“right there,” you muse through bitten lips. “you’re good—you’re so good.”

your praise is met with a swift slap to the side of your thigh.

his muffled agreement against your cunt makes you stifle a smile and you have to resist the urge to tell him how good he is again. how good he is at everything he does and especially, how good he is at making you fall apart on his tongue.

“fucking—” he growls between sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. “—soaking.”

you’re mewling, arching against the wall and as he holds your thighs apart. you just about melt when he peers up at you again, eyebrows knitted in frustration from everything else and desire for you. your mouth runs dry. his face is smothered against you before you could remind him how much you love him.

“come for me,” he groans into you—the vibration sending shocks down your spine. “come all over my mouth.”

there are not enough oh god's left in you by the time the heat in your lower stomach coils and you're tugging on his hair harshly. when his nose presses harshly into your clit as he lapping at your core, your thighs begin to shake.

when he pulls your sundress back down, he’s turning you around just as quickly. pressing you against the wall from behind, you gasp as he moves to press himself into you.

“you can take more, can’t you, cherie?” he’s muttering on the cusp of your ear. your eyes roll back because yes, yes—you would take everything he gave you in this moment. “be a good girl and take more for me, yes?”

[sematarygirls]

 thinking about dancing around the kitchen with rafe .ᐟ

it started off with him watching you from the doorway, a small smile tugging at his lips, seeing how happy and carefree you were, and then suddenly, you're grabbing his hands and jumping around, encouraging him to join you.

he's begrudging and adamant that he does not want to, that he "doesn't dance," but you coax him, your wide smile and joyful aura about you getting him to bob his head and move his shoulders a little, and before you know it, you two are laughing like little kids as he twirls you around and sways with you, a hand on your hip.

and it's so peaceful, and filled with complete and unadulterated joy. rafe is not the stressed, sporadic, and unpredictable man he always seems to be, and you're not worried about what comes next or what your friends would think if they saw you right now. in that moment, it's just you two and an upbeat song blaring from the speakers. it's casual and relaxed and right then, it's like nothing can break your spirits, like you two are happy and that's all that matters.

it's hard to find moments of peace and love and happiness, but appreciating the little things like dancing in the kitchen with the man you love, no matter how flawed he may be, is the key to getting through the hard times.

[heavenbarnes]

there was something to be said about the fact older bf!simon made such a good house husband.

“i forgot my lunch :( ”

“forgot to make it or bring it?”

“both?”

“on my way”

because the next thing was your coworkers slowly raising their heads to the sound outside your office, a throaty rumbling of an engine right outside the doors.

not a car, motorcycle maybe? question affirmed when it revved twice.

they shot you confused looks when the sound made your ears prick up, a sweet smile on your face as you trotted out the front of the building.

behemoth of a man sat astride a motorcycle. his leathers added bulk but there was something about him that said he was big enough without them.

he watched you walk over as he raised the visor on his helmet, the black one with a ghostly image of a skull painted across it.

your coworkers pressed to the windows, trying their best to hide behind the curtains and potted plants but failing all the same.

the man pointed to his face as you got on tip toes to press a kiss to his nose through the balaclava he had under the helmet.

“don’t make it a late one, alright?”

“yessir”

as you gave him a haphazard salute, he reached behind to give you a pat on the backside before he stood to retrieve the brown paper bag he’d been carrying.

lunch in hand, you lean in to press a kiss to the visor he’d just lowered- right on top of the lipstick print that sat in the corner of it.

the print that looked a lot like your lips.

the helmet never leaves the back of you as you walk towards the office, your coworkers scrambling to not get caught staring.

you didn’t mind, just smiled as you reached into your lunch bag and retrieved a sandwich. the one that was cut perfectly into the shape of a heart.

[loserboysandlithium]

“I saw the way you were looking at her. I’m not stupid Ed-”

“Do you want some head?” Eddie asks suddenly, cutting your sentence short. You were in one of your moods and your mouth hadn’t stopped running ever since you left the restaurant.

“What?” your head whips around, meeting his dark eyes, your scowl now replaced with a look of surprise.

“Do you want some fucking head? Would that fix whatever the hell is wrong with you right now?” he grumbles, raising an eyebrow in your direction as he grips the steering wheel tighter.

“I- well, I mean..”

“Thought so. Now please just stop with the damn attitude until we get home.” he gripes, a small smirk appearing on his pretty lips.

“And then head?” you pout slightly, biting down on your plump lip as Eddie rolls his eyes playfully.

“And then head.”

[evielmostdefinitely]

there’s nothing coriolanus loves more than a fight.

when you’re being bratty and defiant. when you’re feeling uncomfortable or just pent up, but you’re far too stubborn to just ask him to fuck you- ask him to be mean to you. where’s the fun in that?

so instead, you’re snarky and snappy and huffy and mean. and like clockwork, coriolanus knows what you need. he knows you need the fussy fucked right out of you, and he’s more than happy to help.

one hand on your cheek, pressing you into the mattress, the other pinning your hands to the small of your back. your ass high in the air while he fucks you, sharp, calculated jabs of his hips, cock stabbing right into your womb leaving you seeing stars.

he’s mocking you, his favorite thing to do. “you had so much to say earlier and now what? hm? where’s all that attitude? surely you’ve not given in this easily. you’ve lost your fight, my darling.”

normally, it would spark a defiant rage in you, have you fighting and squirming against him. you don’t have it in you this time. instead, you just whimper, brain absolute mush between your ears at the way he’s fucking you- positively dumb on his cock. the squelch of your pussy with every thrust and slide of his cock in your sopping cunt, it’s sickening, taunting. it’s music to coryo’s ears.

[piggybackambush]

Pro basketball player Steve seeing a video of Rockstar Eddie at a concert. A song starts and the crowd is yelling and Eddie reaches down with his free hand, grabs himself, and screams "suck my dick!"

Half the crowd yells it with him, the other half just fucking yells. Steve watches the video like seven fucking times, his cheeks getting warmer and warmer each time until he decides to do something stupid.

Rockstar Eddie scrolling mindlessly and seeing a video of himself on stage, so he clicks it only to watch himself scream "suck my dick!" Followed by a video of steve spliced after it. It's just his face, his hair is a fucking mess, his cheeks all pretty and pink and he looks fucking distraught as he says "just give me one chance. One fucking chance." And then he covers his face with his hands and snorts into them, laughing as the video cuts off.

Eddie's heart flutters as he watches it a few more times. Pretty Basketball Boy Steve fucking Harrington just posted a fucking video practically begging to suck his dick. Eddie smirks at his phone. Who is he to deny a pretty boy begging so sweetly? He goes to Steve's profile and types out a message. Dropping his phone on his stomach as he laughs.

Steve opens the message with shakey hands to see:

Shoot your shot pretty boy. 🏀😉

It takes Steve half an hour, but he send back a restaurant name and a time. His palms sweating, cheeks hot.

Eddie answers immediately with:

It's a date. See you there sweetheart.

Steve falls face forward onto his bed, for once in his life thankful for his lack of impulse control.

[bunnyyyuu]

includes: f! reader, aged up! best friend yuuji, cheating, cunnilingus, breeding (kinda), anal mentioned, bad idea mistakes made. not proofread at all

yuuji is the best best friend anyone could ever ask for.

you're sobbing your eyes out? he’s there to rub your back and hold your tissues. you're having health problems that are waaaayy too embarrassing to tell a doctor? he’s doing extensive research to try to figure out how to help you. you're super drunk and throwing up? he’s holding your hair back, whispering how it's all gonna be alright. you're super hungover? don't worry! he has just the thing. you post a picture of yourself? he’s your number one hype man, leaving an insane amount of comments about how you came, served cunt, ate without leaving any crumbs, and left. the point is: he is the best.

unfortunately, however, most guys aren't the biggest fan of girls with a boy best friend. but don't fret! yuuji will be there to comfort you about feeling lonely. after all, he's always here for you.

oh! fortunately, however, you finally find yourself in a relationship with a guy that just adores you, and doesn't give two shits about yuuji as long as he doesn't pull anything. and, of course, yuuji would never pull anything.

not-so-fortunately, however, after over a year of dating, your amazing boyfie is gone on a work trip for months.

you have needs! needs he’d usually be fulfilling! how could he leave you like this? all alone! it's so sad, truly. your hands or measly toys will never feel as good as the real thing.

naturally, tmi has never once existed in you and yuuji’s friendship. so you end up on a call with him, yakking his ear off about how desperately you need a dick appointment. you just keep going on and on and on about way too many details of the sex you so dearly miss.

“and he's so good with his mouth!” you continue, not even giving yuuji the opportunity to respond, “like, there's no way i can do that to myself! uuuuuggggh—when’s he coming home?” you're pacing your bedroom, getting almost antsy, as you blab.

yuuji’s on the other line, just giggling occasionally, letting you ramble all you want. but, suddenly, something pops into his head.

“oh, god, he does this one thing with his tongu—”

“why don't i help you out?” the words are rolling out of his mouth.

why you agreed is unbeknownst to you, but yuuji is down on his knees on the floor of your apartment in less than fifteen minutes nonetheless.

of course, you'd never cheat on your boyfriend! that's not what you're doing! this is just a favor, right? a friendly little thing. yuuji doesn't want his best friend to be all sad and frustrated. he just can't bear to see you like that any longer.

your pussy is prettier than he imagined (yes, he’s imagined her before—one too many times you've bent over in a too short skirt and almost accidentally flashed him or a few too many pairs of pants that hug her too tight and you somehow how don't notice). he stares for a moment up at your leaky cunt in what must be awe once your pants are pulled off and you're lazily spreading your legs apart for him on the edge of your bed.

he’s not gonna tell you he thinks you're pretty. well, not now. obviously, you're ethereal—he’s told you before—but, when he's inching his parted lips toward your swollen clit, he’s gonna keep his mouth metaphorically shut.

his eyes flutter shut in unison with yours as his tongue flattens on the underside of your little bundle of nerves. your hands slap into his hair, it's shorter than your boyfriend’s, but it’ll do. his hands hold your legs far enough open with his big hands while he absolutely loses himself in your pussy.

this wasn't his first rodeo, but your taste, your cunt, your everything is far from anything he’d ever had before. perfect is the only word he knows to describe it, but even that doesn't come close.

he's moaning maybe more than you are as he laps at the sap oozing out of you. his dick feels like it's being suffocated in the strict confines of his sweats and boxers; he's not sure he's even been this hard before.

though, he knows this isn't for him. he can go rub one out when he's left you satisfied, but he has to get you satisfied first. this is just a favor for you.

but, when you're squirting down his throat shamefully quick, he can’t help but help the sadness that he’d have to go so soon. you're convulsing and mewling out incoherent words that sound suspiciously close to yuuji’s name. your mind feels a mess. you hadn't cum since the last time your boyfriend was home (which felt so long ago now, even longer than it had been), but something was telling you it wasn't enough.

he pulls away to do something—wipe your juices that were trickling down his chin, say something to you, or get a rag to clean you up—but his actions are interrupted with an almost lightning fast reflex shove on the back of his head, forcing his mouth against your cunt again. for the first time since he started, he glances up at your face, all sweaty and plastered with the most beautifully erotic look.

“yuuji,” you breathe out, completely forgetting what you’d half-heartedly mentioned about not wanting to use his name so it didn't feel so intimate, “wan’ your tongue in me.” your words are lewd, words yuuji never expected to hear from your mouth, especially directed at him. his cock twitches a little in its cotton prison, pre-cum oozing from his pretty pink tip and leaving a dark spot in his boxers.

he can't say no to you.

he dips his head lower, the tip of his nose pressed just below your clit as he tentatively presses his hot tongue into your hole. you're squeezing around him instantly with a grip that his him worried you might suck his tongue out of his mouth. you can't help but to throw your head back and moan all too loud while gripping his hair harder than you’ve ever gripped anything in your life.

he's practically just french kissing your cunt, no real direction or plan considering he’s just as lost in your pussy as you are in his mouth, but it brings a sense of nirvana to you anyway. it feels like your soul has left your body, replacing any sense of self with some sort of sex fiend who wants yuuji.

maybe it's the lack of recent adequate stimulation, maybe it's the fact that's is yuuji, maybe it's something else entirely, but, either way, you are a mess. hiccuping through shrill moans, legs shaking and thrashing, eyes bolted shut, knuckles turning white from your grasp on yuuji’s pink locks, pussy throbbing. you’re not sure you’ve been such a desperate, horny creature of a woman ever in your life. but, is the explanation really necessary? not when you start grinding down on yuuji’s face, no.

you're swiping your slick soaked folds up and down over his nose, moaning and whimpering when your clit rolls over the slope just right. it's even more heavenly when yuuji shoves his tongue further inside you, sending vibrations up into you with a groan at how you humped his face.

when you're suddenly cumming on his face again, with a sharp “yuuji!”, you’re sure your brain is all gone. any sense of rationality, of anything at all was gone. you should be worried about how wrong this is, how the old lady whose apartment is next to yours that’s way too invested in you and your boyfriend's relationship will definitely ask why you were screaming another man's name. but, you're not. you're not worried about anything but your best friend and his magical mouth.

his brain's out the window too. which is why he doesn't think twice before crawling on top of you and latching his lips onto yours. he's tugging his pants and boxers down with such fervor while his other hand gropes your tits and pushes you down on your bed, the same bed you’d gossiped and giggled in with the man on top of you. you can taste yourself on your lips, but it doesn't make you cringe like you thought it would—though you're a little too focused on the absolutely delightful kiss you’re sharing.

“i know you said that i’d just be eating you out,” he mumbles against your lips between heavy kisses once his cock is finally free, “but, please.”

you don't even remember what you said at this point as you nod dumbly.

he practically moans at the permission alone. he holds the base of his dick and swipes the tip up and down your sopping folds, only pulling away from your kiss swollen lips to stare at the lewd sight. you don't look, letting your head roll back and tongue loll out of your mouth.

the second his fat tip is pushing past your weakened ring of resistance, he's moaning like a bitch in heat. he can't decide whether to let his eyes roll so far back he can see his brain or ogle the filthy scene between you two. he listens to the delectable, unfiltered noises that bubble out of your throat without so much as breath between, and it only fuels the fire of need in his stomach.

he's thought of you before. he couldn't help it, who could? on nights of pumping his fist when his imagination ran too wild or he ran out of porn to watch, of course the most important girl in his life would pop up. bent over with your face stuffed in the pillows, pretty cunt glistening with your wetness on full display for his eyes. or your plump lips (that your boyfriend always got to kiss, how unfair) wrapped around his cock, hollowing your cheeks and holding only the most orgasm inducing eye contact as you take him down your throat expertly. or maybe even his cock using your ass while his fingers plunge in out of your pussy, amorous and perverted sloshing sounds filling his ears—

oh, yeah. reality.

he’s only about halfway in, and the sheer girth of his cock as you arching you back and writhing in place. it would hurt if he didn't make you cum oh-so hard twice in a row. he pulls his hand away from his base to roll his shaky thumb over your abused clitty, earning a sharp hiss from you. though, it goes unnoticed.

everything is unnoticed by yuuji right now. he could barely tell you his own name with the way your hole is sucking the dear life out of his cock. condoms? what are those? your boyfriend? who’s that? any woman other than you? doesn't exist.

tears are forming in your hazy eyes once he bottoms out, the feeling of being so full registering you nothing but a personified mess of pleasure. yuuji was clearly bigger than your boyfriend, not by much length wise, but he was much thicker, stretching out your gummy walls.

he doesn't give you much time to recover (not like you want it anyway) before he's slamming in and out of you. your basically limp body bounces up with each mean thrust of his hips, drilling his cock so perfectly up into you. his thumb is still lazily circling your clit.

it's not long before he's practically begging to cum. with all sense long disappeared, you agree, feeling on edge again yourself.

he mumbles a thanks as his pace grows impossibly harder and sloppier, reaching an previously undiscovered spot deep inside you that has you breathlessly gasping out little “ah! ah! ah! ah!”s with each ram against it. your clenching around him, trying to milk him for all his worth as your release washes over you a third time.

as you coat his cock and hand and add the puddle of your juices under your ass, he stops his aimless thrusts to force his cock so deep inside you that you see nothing but stars—it's like he's trying to get you pregnant. hot, sticky cum fills you up to the brim, overflowing your cunt.

and it's as he finishes oh-so deep inside your pussy, tip kissing your cervix, that he mutters three words. words he’d said to you before, words you’d said back to him, though in much different contexts. after long, heartelt talks, after a really great stress relieving hangout, when you're hanging up the phone, when you just want to appreciate your best friend. but, this isn't one of those times. he's filling you with cum, saying,

“i love you.”

[bruisedboys]

looking after hobie brown with a split lip and an almost black eye and he won’t stop touching you. it’s extremely distracting and you’d tell him so but you’d hate to see the look on his face when you admit he’s flustering you. so you let him be and scrub at the stream of blood trailing from his lip to his chin. you shuffle up his lap (yeah, you’re in his lap, and what about it? he was the one who put you here. he hadn’t given you much of a choice. insisted it was easier to reach and pulled you into him before you could protest) to get a better angle and his fingers press harder into your hips, his grip on you tightening as he tugs you up his lap, somewhat helpfully. you try to ignore the way it makes you feel. the way you’re now practically chest to chest and he can probably hear your heartbeat, it’s so damn loud.

and then, the very tips of his fingers dip underneath the hem of your shirt and brush your warm skin, and you decide you just can’t take it anymore.

“hobie,” you chide, soft and entirely too flustered.

“what?” he says back, dripping with ignorance, and you’d think he was genuinely clueless if you didn’t know him so well. he pushes his hand further up your back, his rough calloused fingers practically burning a mark on your already hot skin.

“quit it”, you say, though you don’t sound very convincing at all.

“quit what, babe?” hobie presses his palm to the small of your back, forcing you ever so closer. you gasp, pressed up against him, your hands braced on his shoulders, but he only smirks knowingly. “m’only helping you out.”