#GOTS certified fabric
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srisakthitex · 9 months ago
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Sustainable Cotton Fabrics in India: Sri Shakthi Tex, Your Eco-Friendly Partner
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Looking for top-quality, sustainable cotton fabrics in India? Look no further than Sri Shakthi Tex, a leading cotton fabric manufacturer dedicated to ethical and environmentally responsible practices. Founded in 1994, we offer a wide range of high-quality cotton fabrics wholesale, perfect for businesses seeking eco-friendly solutions.
Why Choose Sri Shakthi Tex?
Sustainable Practices: We source our cotton from responsible farms and use eco-friendly dyes and chemicals, minimizing our environmental impact.
Diverse Selection: From plain fabric and shirting fabric to duck canvas and stain fabrics, we have the perfect material for your project.
Superior Quality: We are committed to providing the best possible fabrics at competitive rates, never compromising on quality.
Eco-Friendly Products: Beyond fabrics, we offer cotton bag fabric for sustainable packaging and white dhoti made with ethical practices.
Reliable Supplier: With over 28 years of experience, we are a trusted partner for businesses across India.
More Than Just Fabric:
At Sri Shakthi Tex, we believe in responsible textile production. We are committed to:
Ethical Labor Practices: We ensure fair wages and safe working conditions for all our employees.
Community Development: We actively support our local community through various initiatives.
Reducing Waste: We minimize waste throughout our production process and promote sustainable practices.
Join the Sustainable Movement:
By choosing Sri Shakthi Tex, you are not just buying high-quality cotton fabrics, you are supporting a company that is committed to a sustainable future. Contact us today to learn more about our products and services and how we can help you achieve your sustainability goals.
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rkcotweaving1 · 9 months ago
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GRS Certified Fabric Manufacturer | Supporting Sustainable Practices
In order to maintain the highest standards for organic fibre, we as GOTS Certified fabric manufacturer monitor resources, ensure quality, and follow environmentally friendly practices. From procuring organic resources to using environmentally friendly manufacturing techniques, our dedication to sustainability permeates every step of our production process. We can provide customers with peace of mind and trust in their purchases since we are GOTS certified, which guarantees the integrity and purity of our fabrics. Discover the distinction in sustainability and quality by perusing our selection of GOTS Certified textiles. Join us in achieving premium-quality textiles that place an emphasis on ethical production methods and environmental responsibility.
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nereidprinc3ss · 8 months ago
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in the dead of night
in which spencer wakes up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming desire to feel you
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: fem!reader, soft dom!spence (certified nereidprinc3ss classic), sub reader, fingering, piv sex, praise, overstimulation, cr**mp*e (god pls we need a new term) a/n: this is probably THEE most self-indulgent thing i've ever written. but.... lowkey favorite smut i've posted thus far..... i'm such a sucker for disgustingly sleepy needy sex. just.... read it and u will see.... and as usual i love you!!! PLEASE tell me what you think!! MWAH
When Spencer got home around one in the morning, he’d been too dead on his feet to do anything more than get undressed, fall into bed, pull you close, and pass out. Now he’s slightly disoriented as he stirs, pinned between sleep and wakefulness as he realizes how you’ve curled into his side—your face is buried in his shoulder to the point where he’s concerned about your access to air—but each warm puff against his neck assures him you’re breathing alright. One arm is slung haphazardly over his shoulder and your top leg is wound around his. Without thinking, his hand cups the back of your thigh, stroking the bare skin where it presses against his hip. You’re never so soft as you are in sleep; plush, easy, gentle. Spencer realizes with some degree of frustration that he has to fuck you. That’s why he’s awake, and he condemned himself to the fate of it as soon as he touched you. 
Sometimes the impracticality of sex becomes so apparent he resents his own mammalian, biological drive to reproduce. It was never like this before he met you. You reduce him to nothing more than a primate doomed to follow its basest instincts. You make him feel stupid. 
God, he loves you. 
It’s with this in mind he drops his head to kiss your shoulder—a gentle sort of wake up call, as his hand snakes further around to your inner thigh and he presses his lips to your ear. 
“Baby?” he murmurs, kneading the smooth warmth of your leg. It doesn’t take much to wake you up. He thought after you’d been staying at his apartment on a semi-regular basis you’d begin to sleep through him getting up and coming home at odd hours, but if anything, you became more sensitive to the floor creaking or the mattress dipping. 
“Hm?” 
His fingers brush the fabric of your underwear. Your hips twitch. 
“Is this okay?”
You inhale deeply, readjusting your arms around him and nodding into his chest. 
“I need yes or no, angel.”
“Yes, please.”
The words aren’t desperate. They’re sleepy, mumbled, maybe even a little annoyed that he’s making you jump through hoops. The corner of his mouth twists in amusement at your perfunctory politeness and the way it poorly disguises your habitual impatience. 
“Thank you,” he says, rewarding you with his fingers pushing between your folds through the fabric. You say nothing more as he unhurriedly rubs your clothed clit, but he feels the way your breath catches for a moment—before pouring out in one deep tide. He presses slightly harder, transitioning from passes to slow, tight circles that elicit the tiniest, sleepiest moans. This goes on for a while until your hips begin grinding in isolated circles, chasing his hand. 
“Touch it,” you beg quietly. He can feel how damp you are through the fabric and realizes he was probably torturing you for several minutes, but sometimes he just gets so lost in touching you it becomes almost meditative. He pulls his hand away and snakes it between your bodies, sliding beneath your underwear and dragging his fingers over your puffy clit. You whimper but he quickly gets distracted when he realizes just how wet you actually are. Spencer sinks his fingers into you and moans lowly at the sound, rubbing at a spot deep inside you and rutting his palm against your clit rather than pumping his fingers. 
“Breathe,” he reminds you when he realizes how still and silent you’ve gone. A small amount of air escapes in a tremulous little cry as your hips roll gently against his hand—whether to escape the sensation or get closer is unclear. “You’re all wet, baby. Were you touching yourself before I got home?”
“Mhm,” you hum weakly against him. “Couldn’t come.”
Spencer feels like he could finish at the thought alone—the nightly phone calls while he’s away occasionally devolve into desperate phone sex and he’s gotten off to the image of you playing with yourself in his bed on more than one occasion. 
“We’ll make you come,” he promises, dragging his fingers from your soaked heat with bated breath. 
He pushes your underwear down first, until you can kick it off your feet (you’ll have to search for it between tangled sheets tomorrow) and then his own, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth as his cock brushes your tummy. Spencer hoists your bent leg further up his body, exposing your cunt a little more and reaching underneath your thigh until he can guide himself between them. 
The head of his cock pushes between your folds momentarily before he’s teasing your swollen clit, slipping the underside of his tip over it in lazy, noisy circles until you whine. 
“Stop it,” you beg, voice still strained with sleep, “need it inside.”
“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry,” he croons, pressing his lips to your hair as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance and slowly begins to push in. “You’re being very patient—”
He cuts himself off as the two of you moan in filthy harmony. You’re so worked up for him, so defenseless in your half-unconscious state that he slips in with far less resistance than usual. 
“Fuck, me,” he groans under his breath, hissing and bucking his hips when you tighten around him and cry out. He shuts his eyes and thinks of the Goncharov conjecture in an attempt to control himself; the i-th cohomology of the complex is isomorphic to the motivic cohomology group—and then he’s fine. He’s at least learned to stop rattling off mathematical paradoxes out loud during sex. “You okay?”
The only answer you have for him is an indecipherable whine that makes his chest ache. He rubs your thigh in sweet, soothing passes. 
“I know, I’m sorry.” A thought occurs—he chuckles breathily, seeing stars as you throb around him. “You never let me in that easily.”
“Mm,” you squeak, gripping his shoulder hard enough that it aches and he truly couldn’t care less, “you feel good.”
He exhales shakily, pulling out slightly before grinding his hips even deeper into yours. 
“Yeah? So do you, sweet girl.”
“Fuck,” you whimper, and he takes it as a sign that you’re ready to be fucked. Spencer’s not thinking about a whole lot as he withdraws all the way and you clench around him desperately—but somewhere in the back of his mind he’s realizing how much he loves your dirty mouth. When he was younger and dumber, he thought he’d prefer a girl who was soft-spoken and rarely (if ever) cursed. Now that he’s had you, he realizes how compelling and endearing the contrast of your soft voice is when you’re swearing like a marine. 
“God, I missed you,” he breathes into your hair as he leisurely finds the right pace and you melt against him. “I missed how soft and wet you get for me,” Spencer admits gently, eyes screwed shut as he rambles from a place of profound affection and not at all thinking clearly, “and I missed how you cry when you need it so bad it hurts, and I missed how sweet you are when you let me fuck you right after I get home and you’re so tired, just like this. You’re always so good, honey, I don’t know what I did to deserve you—” You whine and clench so hard around him it becomes an effort to push back in, and he groans as he realizes you’re already coming. “Good girl, baby. Holy fuck.”
That last part is more so whispered to himself, but he can’t help it as he feels you painting his cock with your release. You’ve never come this quickly before, and he slips his arm beneath the crook of your knee, pulling up and granting himself more access to fuck you harder and faster. You moan brokenly, sinking your nails into his back. 
“‘m sorry. That was—I didn’t mean to.”
“No,” he quickly assures you, breathing hard, “that was so good, baby. It was perfect. Don’t apologize.”
It seems the brief window between climax and over-stimulation has passed, and a gasp falls from your dropped jaw, arching into him as your body unconsciously tries to find relief from the sensation. 
“Oh, god, Spencer, I—”
“You can take it, we’re getting close,” he promises. Not a demand, but meant as encouragement. “Do you think you can come for me one more time?”
“I don’t know,” you slur, the words rising to squeak. 
“I think you can. Come on, show me how you were touching yourself earlier.”
You whimper, but slide your hand from his shoulder and push it between your bodies. A gasp accompanies the jolt of your muscles as you make contact with your clit, probably demanding too much of it. Soon, however, the conflicted mewls melt into a rhythmic string of delicate, short moans, so pretty it’s like a practiced song. Spencer’s brain, usually overflowing with words, is nothing but a void of swirling fog—each of your perfect sounds, a little burst of light. Soon he’s making noises of his own, which you obviously adore if the way you tense around him is any clue. Usually he sublimates them into words, but he’s too tired, and you feel too good. Your combined moans, along with the sound of him fucking you and the sheets moving over skin make for a truly dirty soundscape. 
“Will you come inside me?” you beg breathlessly, and he can feel the movement of your hand speeding up as you get desperate. He sucks in a breath through his teeth at your plaintive request—the words bring him that much closer to finishing. 
“Yeah, baby. I’m—fuck, I’m not going to last.”
“Spencer—” and somehow, when you say his name like that, he knows exactly what you want. He bows his head and finds your lips, mostly blind in the dark, kissing you messily until that split second where his grip on reality becomes tenuous before the building pressure finally bursts. Multicolored fireworks explode behind his eyes as he moans against your lips and continues fucking you through his orgasm in strong thrusts for as long as he can. Thankfully you finish again just as he’s running out of steam. He rubs the spasming muscles of your thigh deeply as you writhe against him in your typical push-pull style—you don’t know what you want and it’s his job to hold you still and make you take it. After a moment you quiet down, stilling in his arms except for the continued expansion and contraction of your lungs. “Oh my god,” you breathe. “I can’t believe I did that. That’s so embarrassing.” Spencer chuckles breathily—kisses your forehead with his eyes still shut and slips a hand under your shirt to rub your back. 
“Why is it embarrassing? I liked it.”
“I have never—it’s never been so fast! It’s not supposed to be!”
“Why not?”
You huff.
“You’re the man. Men come too quickly. Not me.”
“I’m sorry you had to have two orgasms instead of one. Next time we’ll make sure you don’t come so we can even it out.”
You bury your face in his shoulder once more, immediately softening. 
“No! I take it back.”
“I thought you might.” His hand slides down your back, squeezing your ass affectionately. “Let's rally. We need to clean you up, angel.”
The pillow muffles your voice as you say, “I can’t. I’m asleep.”
“Can I record you saying that for playback in the morning when you ask me why I let you go to sleep with my come inside of you?”
“Spencer, I am seriously not moving. You woke me up. This is not a me problem.”
That makes him laugh, and he presses his lips to yours softly. After a long moment of his mouth moving slowly against yours, a needy little whine rushes from your nose, and it becomes evident he’s successfully kissed the attitude from you.
“You were so good, honey,” he murmurs against your lips. Another (shorter) kiss. “Did so well. I’m proud of you, baby.”
A second soft whimper from you as you chase his lips and he gives in once, briefly—knowing he can’t make you get up after this. How could he do that to such a sweet girl when she’s obviously completely exhausted? Jesus, you have him whipped. He recognizes that. And he made peace with it a long time ago. 
“Go back to sleep. I’ll clean you up.”
“Thank you,” you mumble, already slipping back into unconsciousness like you knew you’d get your way. Knowing your boyfriend, you probably did. “I love you.”
“I love you. Even though you’re a princess.”
You laugh. 
Ten-ish minutes later, once he’s done the best he can cleaning you up and is throwing the covers back over both of you, you startle him slightly by speaking. He thought you’d been asleep. 
“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” you sigh dreamily, snaking your arms around him once more. Spencer’s cheeks heat up at the memory of the praise he’d shamelessly lavished upon you not long ago. He’s glad you’re barely awake, because he’s too flustered to think of a response. 
He loves it when you do that. 
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ros3ybabes · 6 months ago
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🎀 Workout Youtubers
I currently do exclusively pilates and yoga workouts from youtube. However, I've done other body weight workouts with various youtube videos and seen results in the past. Here is my list of workout youtubers that you could check out! I will put a * next to my personal favorites! I will include a short list of my current at home workout equipment at the end as well as some items I plan on buying soon!
With any workout program or routine, always be safe, check with your doctor if necessary, and if something doesn't feel good or right, don't do it! No matter what your goals are, it's always important to be safe and stay healthy. Please always take care of yourselves and know how beautiful, worthy and valuable you are no matter what! I love you all <333
🩷 Pilates
Move with Nicole * (also posts occasionally barre and yoga videos as well! I love her videos so so much)
Madeleine Abeid
IsaWelly
Pilatesbodyraven
Lidia Mera
Lottie Murphy
Amanda Blauer
Margaret Elizabeth
Jessica Valant Pilates
Bailey Brown
Dansique Fitness
Flow with Mira
Sivi (she's began posting some pilates inspired workouts and to my knowledge is currently getting certified as an instructor)
🩷 Yoga
Yoga with Adriene *
Yoga with Bird
Boho Beuatiful Yoga
🩷 Bodyweight Fitness/Strength/HIIT
Chloe Ting * (I don't like the click bait, but I like the workouts)
Blogilates
Pamela Reif *
Madfit *
Lilly Sabri * (Some of her videos are titled with pilates, but the older ones I used to do were not pilates, so I categorized her here)
Emi Wong
Shirlyn Kim
Vivian Yuan
April Han
growingannanas
growwithjo * (I love her walking workouts)
Hinafit
Mish Choi
Sami Clarke
Elenifit
Coach Kel (she posts what looks like more barre, ballet, pilates inspored/fusion workouts it seems)
Caroline Girvan
TRAIN WITH GAINSBYBRAINS
Daisy Keech
🎀 Current At Home Workout Equipment I Own
Thick Yoga Mat - since I do mainly yoga and pilates my thick yoga may (amazon brand) has served me well. Even tho I am a heavier woman at the moment, I've never had pain or any issues with this mat, and it came with a carry strap which I love! A good, thick workout mat is definitely necessary for working out at home for comfort, safety, etc. Make sure to disinfect it on occasion, especially if you sweat on it a lot!
Resistance Bands - I have about 3 or 4 at different resistance strengths, and they're incredibly useful for a variety of movements, especially lower body ones. They add some extra resistance and make the workouts a bit more challenging when you need something more advanced. I also got mine from Amazon/Walmart a while back. I prefer fabric over rubber because I like to wear workout shorts instead of workout leggings.
Pilates Ball - not a necessity, but useful with some pilates workouts and movements. I have seen sole videos using this, but am not advanced enough to try it on my own yet. Will use for sure once I'm more advanced.
3lb dumbbells - I thought these would be useful for the pilates workouts that had some upper body focus, and as someone who wants to develop a lean and toned upper body, they are perfect for low weight high rep, controlled movements. Again, not advanced enough to use as I want to master my form, but they're gonna come in handy for sure!
Foam Roller - so so good for stretching and muscle recovery on rest days. I love mine but want one that has the bump things on it to help my muscles more. I can imagine how good it'll feel on my legs during a recovery day when I begin wieght lifting again.
Massage Gun - my holy grail for the days I am sore and needing some recovery. my body feels like jelly after using this, and it's just so nice for the days my muscles feel extra tight and super sore.
🎀 Equipment I Want To Buy
Yoga Blocks - these will help me get deeper into the yoga poses once I get more advanced in my practice
Pilates Ring - this honestly looks so fun and challenging to use, I'd love to add it to my collection of useful workout equipment!
Jump Rope - I used to love this as a form of cardio and as long as I don't move into an upstairs apartment, I'm definitely buying one
Pilates Bar - still iffy on this one, it's supposed to mimic a reformer but I want to get better at mat pilates and see if I even end up ever needing or seriously wanting to buy it, its on my list tho
Ankle/Wrist weights - these are gonna be so useful for workouts where hand held dumbbells aren't useful. Want to buy some low weight ones just to help with resistance and extra strength during pilates workouts
Kettlebell weight - I think this would be useful for a workout at home type situation if and when I switch to not doing just pilates and yoga. I know these are useful in their own right, but not needed in my current fitness stage of life.
Core Sliders - these look fun and interesting. They're on my lost for sure, but not sure about the practicality of their use in my life just yet.
That's all that's currently on my at home workout equipment list! As someone who primarily works out at home, the things I currently own are most useful and most of what's on this list is for fun or extra challenge. Just not necessary yet.
hope you enjoyed this list! if you have any questions about my favorite youtuber workout instructors or favorite videos, please feel free to ask, I've tried so many and can give some guidance from my own experience and research.
til next time lovelies 🩷
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steviewashere · 3 months ago
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Why didn't they steal shoes for Steve to wear from the Wheeler's house? Surely they could've found some pair of certified Dad sneakers that Ted has or something. Maybe they aren't the same shoe size, but I'm sure they could've found something that would've fit well enough rather than have Steve walk around with his bare feet on all that disgusting gunk. I'm sure he's got all kinds of wounds on his feet from having to walk on tree trunks and leaves and stuff, surely they could've wrapped them up and stuffed them in some sneakers.
Was he just driving that RV with bare feet, too? Considering he had that vest still up until they made it to the surplus store. And also, they were in somebody's actual home. That RV was somebody's home, surely they would've had something better than the scrap shirt pieces he was wearing on his wounds. And, thinking some more, there's no way in hell that he was just magically healed from those wounds—he was bleeding so much that he was woozy and nearly fucking collapsed.
Did they get him bandages from the surplus store? Is he still wearing scraps of shirt underneath that stupid camo thing? If so, surely that blood was seeping through the fabric. How did he not get sniffed out by demo creatures?
Nothing with the Upside Down nor his injuries make any goddamn sense. And I will write a Steddie missing scene where Steve gets properly taken care of because this is bullshit.
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sweetshuga · 24 days ago
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Roommates ✧ CS
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───~𓆩♡𓆪~───
roomie!chris! Looking for his camo tee—not knowing you had taken it.
You watched as Chris got ready to go out, and as per usual, he asked you where his things were. "You seen my tee? The uh, the camo one," you felt your stomach drop, "no? It's probably in the laundry or something." You reasoned, getting up from the couch. "I checked the laundry, my closet, well, everywhere in my room, I can’t find it," you let out a small laugh, "kid, do you even find anything? It's probably somewhere in your room and you just can’t find it," you started to walk away, to your room.
Chris groaned and called out, "if you find it, throw it on my bed or sum’, m’gonna go out now!" You shouted a simple okay from your room and waited until the front door clicked shut before peeking out from your room. You looked around – to see if Chris was really gone – just to calm your nerves even though you knew he was out. A sigh of relief slipped through your lips as you tentatively opened the door to his room, his camo t-shirt clutched in your free hand.
You walked inside, your heart thumping against your chest as you approached his bed, neatly folding his t-shirt before putting it carefully on the foot of his bed. You looked around his room, taking in his furniture and decorations, until something caught your eyes. A small piece of peach coloured frilly fabric sticking out from inside the small drawer by his bed. You approached it and opened the drawer—your eyes widened, it was a pair of thongs that looked awfully like the one you couldn’t find.
𓆩♡𓆪
You closed the door of his bedroom, confusion etched on your features as you walked back to your room. "It’s probably not mine, just a similar pair from some other girl," you mumbled to yourself, but the pit in your stomach said otherwise. Rule number 5: Respect each other’s boundaries.
𓆩♡𓆪
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rule. 1 2 3 4 6 7 Origin
wc. 321
note. English is not my first language—if you didn't catch on with my poor vocabulary and writing skills.
Isa's notes. Featuring the camo tee from rule number 3.
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Taglist: @certified-sturniolo @sturnioloszn
© sweetshuga
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nekomamiiz · 13 days ago
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kuroo — 550 words
tags; fem!reader, established relationship, oral (f! receiving), referring to female anatomy as 'her', some cockwarming, lowercase intentional, tetsurou is certified adorkable
divider by @/cafekitsune
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kuroo sometimes has conversations with your pussy… 
i cannot stop thinking about him catching you lounging on the sofa as he walks in the house. you hear some rustling of the objects in his hands and within seconds he's on top of you, kissing your lips, trailing down your neck and chest.
he lifts your shirt and tucks his head under the fabric, licking, kissing, and biting the skin on your tummy.
he finally gets to the place he’s been thinking about all day. he taps your thigh and you lift slightly so he can remove whatever article of clothing you have covering yourself. he slides the material down your legs and rests your thighs on his shoulders
“god i’ve missed you so much,” he practically shivers when he finally gets a face full of your perfect cunt. his fingers digging into your skin, tongue already slipping out to wet his lips.
“i missed you too, tetsu,” you say with a giggle, probably hiding your face behind the book you're reading.
“oh yeah,” he blinks twice. “yeah i missed you too,” he regards you with the most guilty expression you’ve ever seen and he tries to give you an endearing smile as his eyes shift from your face to your pussy.
it doesn’t work, he’s already been caught. 
“if you wanted me to be ready for you, you could’ve just called ahead of time,” your voice dips an octave lower—sugary sweet—and it makes him groan, causing him to grind his hips against the couch.
“let me just spend some time here, okay? i’ve been thinking about this all day, wanna make my girl feel good.” 
he does exactly that. you come twice thanks to his skillful tongue and he wastes no time after that to strip you down, settling you onto his lap, his hands on your ass as he bounces you up and down on his cock. 
he thinks you look absolutely gorgeous lost in pleasure, and he knows he's the only one who can get you to this point. that thought alone sends him over the edge, but he’s nowhere near finished with you yet. 
he carries you to the bedroom, your naked body wrapped tight around his, your laughter reverberates through your shared home and he finally settles you on the bed. he hovers over you, peppering your face in kisses as he did before. 
“okay now let me say good night and put her to sleep,” he chuckles as he makes his way down to your dripping center, glistening with your combined fluids. 
he licks between your folds once and places a soft kiss on your clit, you hear him whisper ‘good night pretty’ from where he’s at and then he makes his way back up to you. he quickly slips his cock back inside you and you can’t help but stare at him in disbelief.
“what?” he asks as wraps his arms around you. 
“you’re still the same dork i fell in love with all those years ago,” you tease and he can’t help but chuckle at your words. 
“good to know i’ve still got it then.” he says with one more kiss to your cheek. 
you wake up a few hours later with his head between your thighs.
again.
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couldnt get this out of my mind and wrote it on my lunch break yesterday, it ain't much but it's honest work aka this might b trash ahaha anyway i hope you enjoy <3
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bluejeanstrash · 7 months ago
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inspired by this and this (sfw)
tags: idol! seungcheol x idol! reader, reader is a certified brat, brat taming, seungcheol and reader are hooking up, use of oppa and hyung, suggestive conversation | wc: 1.4k
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
seungcheol swears he’s mistaken when he hears the first paparazzi call your name. but there it is again, and again, and by the time the crowd is screaming hysterically, he’s sure it must be you. he turns around as he’s being escorted into the venue to see you on the red carpet, waving to the cameras, posing with a poise only a professional idol has. you look jaw-droppingly good, and he curses at the fact that he only got to see you for two seconds.
things work out in his favour though. he reaches his table to see a place card with your name on it. idols seated together. not a bad marketing decision.
unlike the vibrant red carpet, the inside of the venue is dim, a velvety purple hue painting the room, and there’s a dj whose set suits seungcheol’s taste. it’s nice being here after months of hiatus, and it would be even nicer if you’d get here quicker. your group and seventeen were contemporaries, and pretty good friends, though in the public eye it seemed like you’d barely interacted. everyone wanted to keep it that way.
finally, after what feels like hours, you walk in, heads turning as you make your way to the table. he checks you out, slowly this time, blown away by just how incredible you look. your dress is sensual yet subtle, and his hands are itching to feel the fabric, and you under it. you’re a few steps away when you pause, spotting him, equally surprised to see him here. you would rarely cross paths during schedules, so this was unusual.
respectful bows are exchanged before you take a seat. a waiter comes by to drop off glasses of champagne, and you take that as an opportunity to check seungcheol out. all black everything with faded auburn hair looks very sexy on him. you make a quick decision about what you want him to do to you in this outfit.
‘i didn’t know you were attending. just you?’ he asks politely, in stark contrast to how impolitely he'd fucked you the last time you met.
‘just me. just you?’
‘and wonwoo. wonwoo!’ seungcheol waves him down as wonwoo makes his way to the table, taking a seat to your other side.
‘hyung, they need you for some solo press’ he informs and seungcheol is escorted away by his manager.
in the 10 to 15 minutes that seungcheol’s gone, you make small talk with wonwoo, touching on agency-approved topics like comebacks, dance challenges, and the like. topics that wouldn’t cause an internet meltdown when someone would inevitably zoom into your lips and try to breakdown every word being said.
what you’d actually been dying to discuss with wonwoo was his latest fling, and why he’d ghosted them, but that’s filed away for another day.
seungcheol returns with a second drink in his hand, and message for wonwoo ‘wonwoo-ya, they’re calling you now. do well’ he encourages like always.
seungcheol takes a seat beside you, close enough to dispel any negative rumours and far enough to not get pulled into dating ones.
‘have you finished press?’
‘what?’ you lean forward, the music too loud to speak at a distance. he does the same, almost placing his hand on your thigh but he catches himself in the last second, closing his palm into a loose fist and resting it on the table. seungcheol repeats his question, and you nod. yes, you’re done with press.
‘there are way too many cameras here’ he recognises a few fans who run his biggest fansites, all “discreetly” pointing huge DSLRs in his direction. he has to be careful not to accidentally touch you. not to do something that makes both your names start trending tonight.
‘are you done with schedule? what are you doing after this?’ he gives your dress a once over, trying to figure out how to undo it. there’s a complicated knot at the back which makes him eager to try.
the corners of your mouth curl into a playful smile before you take a sip of the bubbly. the sparkling gold goes down easy, and your words come out smooth,
‘you’
his eyes widen as the gulp of champagne he’s taking enters the wrong pipe, sending him into a tiny coughing fit. his eyes dart around the room to see if anyone caught that.
he takes another sip to recover, regaining any composure lost. then he leans in, plump cherry lips brushing against your ear ‘don’t say shit like that when we’re in public or i swear to god’
he sits back, adjusting the fall of his suit, and runs his fingers nervously through his thick hair which bounces right back into place.
this time you lean in completely, seungcheol refusing to meet you halfway, your earrings dangling with the motion ‘or what? what’s oppa going to do to me? punish me for being bad?’ you have a dangerous lilt in your tone that makes his dick throb.
‘stop. it.’ he mouths a warning. as if that has ever made a difference.
to seungcheol’s surprise, you had turned out to be quite a handful. you were different from your idol image. same, but different. he’d liked you instantly when you’d met outside work at his manager’s party and one thing led to another till you both had hooked up. he couldn’t believe it. you were two of his favourite things — a brat and a nasty slut combined into one gorgeous woman, and seungcheol wouldn’t have it any other way.
though, right now he could, because at this moment you were a pain in the ass and a throb in his dick, both of which he couldn’t afford. it’s not like he could refuse to engage in conversation with you. how bad would that look? so he stays still, listening to whatever lewd filth you’re whispering into his ear.
‘oppa, you know that thing you said you wanted to try with me? you wanted to put it inside my…while you turned on the vibrator in my other hole? can we try it? please?’ you leave your words vague, his imagination running wild. he’s going to kill you. it can’t get any worse, he thinks, but then the music changes.
an rnb song. no, an rnb song that’s no. 24 on your blended spotify sex playlist. in a biological reaction that would make pavlov proud, his cock starts to stiffen in his pants from the very first note. he catches your eye, looking away instantly. this is bad. this is very bad.
in an attempt to hide the tent that’s pitching in his pants, seungcheol crosses one leg over the other, taking further precautions to cover his crotch with a drape of his arms. it’s clear to you what’s happening, and if it wasn’t obvious enough he starts bouncing his knee, moving it a million times a minute. he’d read somewhere it gets rid of an unwanted erection, but it seems to be doing jack shit.
you lean back, amused, smoothing a flyaway hair, and elegantly throw your sleek locks over your shoulder to reveal a hint of your cleavage. seungcheol has spent a lot of time in there — kissing, licking, sucking…and shooting cum on that strip of skin. you know what you’re doing. he knows what you’re doing. the waiter who just walked past knows what you’re doing. seungcheol makes a mental note to tell his manager not to book you both at the same event ever again.
he tears his gaze away from your chest, focusing on the table in front of him. how many overlapping stitches can he see? he counts.
but you’re not done yet. no, you want him riled up and pissed off. you want that vein in his neck to pop. you wonder if you can run the risk of sliding your foot up his leg. probably not, and yet a second later the point of your heel slides up the inner seam of his pants, making him jump in his chair.
his jaw clenches, his neck tightens ‘that’s enough, you fucking brat’ he spits, forgetting to lean in or hide his mouth.
you grin impishly, taking a congratulatory sip of your champagne. he doesn’t know this but you’re soaking wet, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your cunt. riling him up always made you leak arousal in anticipation for the impending punishment.
unfortunately, before you can get a teaser of what’s to come, wonwoo returns, walking alongside your manager. you’ve done your part, made your appearance, and it’s time to leave, he says. you say your goodbyes, first to wonwoo, and then turn to seungcheol who lets out a small huff of air before standing up. he smiles for the cameras and bows, glaring at you as you lock eyes and whispers,
‘you’re in so much trouble’
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rainrot4me · 27 days ago
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Rain’s Kinktober 2024 - 12
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Jeff the Killer x TransMasc (FtM) Reader - Hair Pulling/Pegging
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Pegging, forced submission, hair pulling, mentions of injury, bottom Jeff, domination, cunnilingus, anal, rimming
Tag: #rainykinktober2024
Words: 3.8k
A/N: I didn't get to flourish out the reader being trans as much as I would have liked to, but I also felt like it not being an incredibly big writing point makes it more natural? IDK give me your thoughts and ways I can improve it please! I've never written a trans reader, but I wanted to try my hand at it!
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Was it smart to get into a relationship where the two of you had insanely gigantic egos? No.
Did it make it much more satisfying to come out on top every time? Hell yeah.
“One more word, I dare you.” You spat. 
From anyone else’s perspective, your relationship with Jeff would seem toxic and demeaning, constantly bickering or knocking each other around to prove a point. Sure, it was far from healthy, but you could expect only so much from a certified lunatic.
“Or what? I’ll get time out?” The killer snickered, leaning back on your bed as he spread his legs wide, a disgusting grin on his face. 
“You’d get off to that, wouldn’t you? Bust a nut just from getting told to sit in the corner.” You scoffed, hauling your hoodie over your head and throwing the nasty fabric to the side, turning towards your bathroom to get a good look at yourself. Jeff was still smiling, chuckling to himself as he stood to follow you in. 
You both had just returned from a long night, bodies sore and heads pounding from overexertion, but that didn’t stop either one from throwing snotty remarks. 
Flipping the bright bathroom lights on, you glared at your reflection, gnarly bruises and scratches running up your chest and shoulders, the wounds still bright with irritation. Jeff sauntered in behind you, bright eyes roaming your bare back that you were sure looked much worse than your front. “Jesus, [Y/N], how did she even do all that?” He cringed, settling his rough hand on your shoulder to examine the litter of scratches all down your spine. You huffed, shoving his hand off and reaching for the faucet, running warm water as you grabbed a rag. 
It was embarrassing to admit that some lady, a younger police officer who tried to intervene in your mission, had banged you up bad enough while you tried to take her out. Maybe you would’ve let Jeff try to be sweet and clean you off, but the killer was the one who alerted the damn woman with his “go to sleep” bullshit. You got her off of you and delivered some nasty blows, but she got some good hits too, cutting up your skin with her nails. Jeff laughed the whole way home, throwing a shit-eating grin every time you glared at him.
Running the rag across your bare shoulders, you groaned, the small sting tolerable but definitely uncomfortable as you cleaned yourself up. Jack was out hunting, so you couldn’t get his professional opinion, but you deemed them not bad enough to get all the sterile stuff out. Rummaging the cupboard behind the mirror, you shook a few ibuprofen into your hand and called it a night. 
“Aw, won’t even let me bandage you up? C’mon now, baby…” Jeff sneered, trying his best to put on a sweet face as he ran his fingers down your back, tracing the skin right above the waistline of your jeans. You huffed, anger still boiling in the back of your mind despite the chills that littered your skin, your eyes trained on him in the mirror behind you. “Lay off, Jeffrey.” You tried to nudge back to your bedroom, your messy sheets and pillows practically calling your name, but Jeff wrapped his hands around your waist, tugging your back against him.
If there was one thing about the killer you could always count on, it was his unwavering ability to become insufferably horny after any mission. You chalked it up to the aftermath of the adrenaline rush, but he never failed to get all touchy whenever you both finally made it back to the mansion.
“Why so angry, babe? How ‘bout you put all that energy to good use, huh?” He smiled, pressing his nose behind your ear and kissing lightly, trying to switch up his annoying demeanor to coax you. He was always good at that, playing the nasty one until he decided he wanted to be sweet, using all the right moves and words to melt you down. Tonight, however, you felt just a little more ill than usual, body still wired with adrenaline and anger- it would take more than kisses up your neck to get you now.
Shifting your shoulder, you nudged him off, the gruff sigh from the killer annoyed that you didn’t immediately give in. How could you not? He was irresistible?! He followed you into the bedroom, tugging at the belt loop of your jeans and pouting when you refused to show him attention, or groaning when you ignored his hands pawing at your waist. All the usual hints that he wanted you weren’t working, and Jeff was becoming more frustrated by the second. “[Y/N]... C’mon…” 
You secretly smirked to yourself when he sat at the edge of your bed, rummaging through your dresser for clean clothes that weren’t matted with speckles of blood and dirt. He leaned back on his elbows, groaning about how stubborn you were being while you unbuttoned your jeans, shoving them past your hips. His grumbles quickly faltered, the only noise the shifting and settling of the mansion as he watched you kick your jeans off, snagging your fingers into the waistline of your boxers next. 
You heard Jeff sit up, your bed creaking under the weight when you pushed the fabric over your ass, bending just a little to tease and send a staggered breath from the killer. You smiled to yourself when you kicked your boxers off, bare back on display to him as you reached for your clean clothes, refusing to turn and even let Jeff think you were giving him what he wanted. He pushed off the mattress, feet creaking on the floorboards when you felt cold hands run across your waist again, his hips pressing against your ass.
“Baby…”
“Jeff, no.” It sounded a little cold, but you didn’t intend to let him think just because he wanted you, he was going to get you- he had to work for it.
He whines, a pout forming on his lips when he presses kisses against that same spot behind your ear. “C’monnn, you’re not gonna stay mad all night. Lemme make it up to you.” You raise a brow, refusing to show any interest as Jeff ruts his clothed bulge against your ass, mouthing kisses onto your shoulder.
Trying to pull your shirt over your head, the killer grumbles at your disinterest, trying to push his hands down to your sweet center and maybe coax you along, but being left unsatisfied when you elbow him off and step away. “Go jerk off in your own room, man. You’re not getting it for that fuckjob of a mission you pulled.”
Even if he did decide to leave, you would’ve rubbed one out yourself. You couldn’t deny how excited you got from seeing the oh-so-big-and-bad-killer start to whine and paw at you, desperation creeping in when his cock twitched uncomfortably in his jeans. He ground his teeth, stepping after you when you tried to climb into the bed, wearing nothing but a clean shirt as your ass swayed vulgarly. 
“Babe- c’mon… Sorry? Alright? I’m sorry for bein’ an ass- Just… please?” It was so satisfying to see him cling onto your hips, tugging you up off the bed and holding you close to his chest, his obvious boner pressing against the side of your thigh. You huffed, secretly smiling to yourself.
You would let him have it, but he wasn’t going to like it.
“Alright…” He perked up, kissing you across your shoulders again, before- “Grab the strap, then.”
His kisses faltered, letting off your skin to look you in the eyes, trying to gauge if you were being serious. You didn’t use it often, only daring one time to experiment, but ultimately deciding you both didn’t prefer it. It seemed appropriate now, your body flipping that anger into excitement when Jeff began to shake his head.
“Baby… You can’t be serious-”
“Go on, Jeff. You don’t get to choose right now.” You dropped your voice, a stern tone that made the killer stiffen up, shifting his weight back. He didn’t try to beckon, just let go of your hips and sheepishly knelt down, reaching under your bed. With heavy eyes, he grabbed the small tote you hid, popping the lid open to reveal the gaggle of toys you both had used on one another, the killer’s hands fishing for the dull pink strapon at the bottom. You leaned back on the bed when he held it out, shoving the box back under your bed and groaning when you took it from him.
You drug it out, slow and methodical movements when you dipped each leg into the holster, snugging the straps around your hips and tightening the clips. Jeff watched anxiously, sitting back on his haunches while his fingers gripped into his jeans, staring at the dildo you were adjusting at your crotch. The smooth base of the toy pressed against your cunt, settling against your clit in a way that made you huff a groan.
Tugging your shirt off, Jeff eyed your body, eyes roaming your chest and arms as you towered over him. You smiled down, sitting back against your bed and spreading your legs, the killer’s face a little more pale than before as you beckoned him closer. He hesitated at first, testing if you were really serious, but eventually shuffled forward onto his knees when you glared at him. 
The toy wasn’t incredibly big, just a little smaller than Jeff’s cock, but it was definitely more than he was used to taking. Jeff had no remorse in forcing himself into you inch by terrible inch, stuffing you to his heart’s content despite your raspy pleas to go slow. It felt appropriate to not give him the same luxury of being gentle.
“Hurry up. You wanna cum or not?” Jeff furrowed his brows, shifting his weight up to press his head just above the tip, eyeing you just once more as you smiled sickly. Soft groans leave your mouth as he flattens his tongue and licks at the head, saliva glistening across the silicone when he tries to wrap his lips around the tip. “Watch your teeth, yeah?” 
Maybe he would’ve made some sly remark about how it was just a toy and made fun of you, but you wrapped your hands into his hair, gripping the messy strands tight as you began to shove his head down. His neck was tense, mouth trying to accommodate the sudden intrusion as he gagged and choked around the length, trying to press back up. You held him, continuing to force him down until you felt his nose press against your hip, muffled coughing as his fingers dug into your thighs. Through the scars on his cheeks, you could see the toy going deeper, nestling itself into his throat as Jeff unhinged his jaw to accommodate. 
“Don’t fight me, Jeffrey.” You grovel, Jeff sitting up a little more as the toy presses hard against his tongue, you forcing the length to brush against the back of his throat. Tears well in his eyes, unable to breathe properly as his skin heats, flushed from the sudden overwhelm. He could try to resist, but you demanded his compliance, and honestly, that turned him on something terrible. “Always runnin’ your mouth, messing things up- this is what you get.”
A stark tug on his hair and he’s whining, bobbing up and down the length with heavy eyes, the lack of oxygen bringing him down from his domination a lot quicker than you expected. The sounds are so messy, spit building on his lips and glistening across the silicone every time his lips meet the head, tongue flattening across the divot in the tip and taking it like it was real. You moan at the sight, clit jerking every time the strap shifts and rubs just right.
Jeff’s head feels light, letting his jaw hang loose despite the war in his head telling him to get up and shove you off. He knows he could easily stop this, fight you off, and take what he wanted, but something in his likes how your eyes bore down at him as you own him, a claim being staked. He could fight, could deny ever enjoying it, but he couldn’t lie when your hips pressed off the mattress and began to snap into his throat, fucking the toy in haphazardly.
You enjoyed this a little too much too- the way your idiotically loud, egotistical, manic boyfriend loved to act like he was big and bad, but found himself falling apart, jaw slack, eyes rolling back while you used his throat. You fisted his hair hard, whining and gasping through slobbered gags every time you tugged the strands, forcing him to comply. Tears fall down his pale cheeks, sweat dripping down his forehead as you finally pop his head off, eyes hazy and heart thumping in his chest while you look down at him, satisfied with the state he’s found himself in.
“Hah- Hnn- Baby…” He pants, trying to catch his breath while you run your fist up and down the length, coating his saliva across the silicone and admiring the way it shines. You glance at him, face flushed and eyes heavy, hair still pulled back into your grip as his jaw hangs slack. “You… Wanna feel- hah- you…”
“You’re so fucking noisy. Babbling already and we’ve barely started.” That shuts him up, embarrassment heavy as he pants, trying to catch his breath. You tug him forward, holding his face close as you slap the toy across his cheeks, his spit smacking his skin lewdly, the killer tightening his face with the impact. 
“Up on the bed.” You stood, nudging him to climb up onto the mattress, but finding the killer reluctant. You eyed him, reaching for his jeans and slowly unbuttoning them, watching as his eyes lazily followed your movements. He reached for his shirt, hauling the fabric over his head when you helped him shove his pants off, kicking them to the side. His cock was heavy in his boxers, a wet stain where his tip twitched, huffing a low groan when you palmed at the length. “Up on the bed, now, m’kay?”
It took a moment, but reluctantly Jeff climbed up, shoveling his boxers off and groaning at his wilted cock, the tip a deep red. You pressed onto the bed, Jeff flipping over and whining into the sheets with embarrassment. He couldn’t stand how turned on he was, overwhelmed with the fact that he might’ve been enjoying this. “Quit bein’ a baby and acting like you aren’t enjoying this. I mean, look how hard you are.” It was like a stab in the gut, but Jeff couldn’t stop his cock from twitching at your tone.
He pressed his knees up, palms digging into the sheets as he climbed onto all fours, letting his spine drop the best he could and arching uncomfortably. You admired his effort, shifting behind him as you palmed at his skin, delivering hard grips to his ass. Jeff shuddered, body shaking slightly when he felt you lean down, breath tingling his skin as his cock hung between his legs.
“Get over yourself and just enjoy it, alright?” You huffed, pulling the plush off his ass apart and pressing in slow, a long stripe of your warm tongue across his hole. The killer choked, a gruff moan when you slowly lapped at him, trying your best to break that tension he held. Jeff tried not to fight, tried to listen to you and enjoy it, but found himself stiffer than ever, fingers digging into the sheets. You could feel it, his body so rigid as you kneaded his ass, moaning into the sweet taste.
You reached between his legs, wrapping your fist around his swelled cock and slowly stroking, his hips jutting with the stimulation. Jeff moaned, jaw hanging loose when you felt his hips jerk with every stroke, your grasp tight around his length while your tongue dipped shallowly into his fluttering hole. Your warm saliva coats him, opening up slowly for each tug you give his cock, the duality easing his body, arms shaky and weak as the killer tries to keep himself up.
Your tongue dips fully into the tight ring of muscle, lulling with a groan as how he eases up, pushing his ass back against you as precum dribbles onto your bedsheets, his loud gasps and groans teetering on the edge. “Baby… Yeah- Mhnn- Yeah-” Your own arousal throbs in your gut at his willingness, riding back across your tongue as he bites his lower lip, eyes closed in hard concentration. 
“My tongue too much, hm? Can’t hold on much longer?” You kiss along his ass, hand still slowly stroking his cock just enough to have his hips stutter for more. The killer nods, quiet moans as his thighs tremble and clench, arms daring to give out. “Then maybe you need something bigger? Isn’t that right?” Jeff tries to retort, pushing up a little, but you’re already sitting up behind him, grasping his hips hard enough to bruise.
You teasingly draw circles around the rim, Jeff shivering, hole quivering at the cold feeling of mixed saliva slipping between his ass. He moans out, arms finally giving as his chest hits the mattress, face smashed into the sheets.
Arching his back stiffly, he grinds his ass back against the toy prodding at his asshole, muffled gasps when he feels you begin to press in, the head slowly disappearing into his tight hole. Jeff tries to keep his flushed face hidden in the sheets, biting into the fabric to sheath any terrible noises that erupt, but finds himself needing to look back at you.
He shifts, lying the side of his head out as he looks back over his shoulder, your face hard in concentration while you slowly bob your hips back and forth. The stretch is nauseating, shocks of pain and glorious pleasure running up his body every inch you try to sink in deeper, bully past that pesky resistance he’s still holding onto. “Open up f’me, Jeff. You said you wanted to feel me, didn’t you?” You teased, glancing up at him with a slurred smile.
“Ah! Please, baby.”
“Please what? Use your words, Jeff.”
“Please. Wanna cum so bad.”
Sweat dribbled down your brow, fingers grasping his hips with a bruising intensity that had his skin red with irritation. His walls flutter, hole clenching painfully on the toy that is only mere inches from the hilt. Jeff feels so full, so painfully full he thinks he’s going to snap. You take the opportunity, pulling your hips back before pushing back forward, watching as his hole stretches to accommodate, just to suck you all back in again. It’s a mouthwatering sight.
“Fuck! Baby, yeah-” Jeff curses the puny tone to his voice, desperation guiding his hips to fuck back onto the toy, the length brushing that sweet spot nestled deep inside. His cock is leaking something terrible, you barely thrusting but it feels like you're slamming into him, bullying your anger into his submission. You know all the ways to make him tick, all the ways to brush your hands up his back and make chills graze his skin, his gut heavy with arousal.
You don’t have to move anymore, Jeff is practically doing all the work for you. He can complain in his head all he wants, but it’s his ass that’s bouncing back onto your hips with loud, syrupy whines. His cock slabs against his abdomen, the squelch and smacking as he fucks himself raw, his head nearly spinning with haziness. “I wan- I wanna cum, please, babe.” He gasps out, teary eyes blown and looking up at you so desperately, face so messy.
You leaned in, pushing his hips down and resting your weight on top of him, bringing your hips up just to slam right back down into him with a choked moan. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging his head up and back as you forced him to look at you. “Do you think you deserve to? After how you treated me today?”
Jeff hesitated, breathy moans as you rutted your hips down, grinding the toy into him and bumping against his prostate. He finally shook his head, gritting his teeth when you leaned in to press a sloppy kiss on the back of his neck, tugging on his hair. You were just surprised he gave you the answer you wanted, finally breaking past his egotistical cumdrunk self and letting you diminish him. It was satisfying, it was arousing.
You sat back, hauling his hips with you and reaching around his waist, snagging his cock into your fist and jerking as rhythmically with the thrust of your hips as you could. Jeff moaned loud, grappling at the sheets as you bounced his ass back, finally loosening up enough to take the toy to the hilt. 
“You wanna cum, Jeff?” You huffed, knocking the head of the toy against his prostate, each thrust sending shocks of pleasure through his body. Was he drooling or were those tears? He didn’t know, but he could barely choke out his answer.
“Yes.”
“Then cum.”
Maybe it was the glint of fondness in your eyes, or the pierce of your fingernails digging into his hips, but Jeff is immediately snapping back onto your hips, reaching his climax. Poor, exhausted cock throbbing and cumming dry, stripes of hot white onto your bedsheets below. “Ah- Cumming- M’cumming hgnh-”
Head still reeling, the killer can do nothing else but lay there limply, exhausted and fucked out of his mind as you slowly remove yourself from his clenching hole. He’s never felt so vulnerable, so ruined.
As you tenderly roll him over, he’s still panting, heart thudding so hard in his chest that you swear you can hear it. You let the strap fall from your hips, shimmying the toy off and slowly climbing up onto his thighs, straddling his limp hips.
Jeff was never a one-and-done kind of lover, rallying for two or three rounds every chance he got, so why wouldn’t you give him the same luxury? A taste of his own medicine should keep him pliable for weeks, you think.
Settling your hips out, Jeff jerks when you grab his cock, the length still flinching with postorgasmic swells as you slowly press down onto the head, Jeff hauling up. He watches through tear-soaked eyes, that later he will swear never happened, as your bulbous clit throbs with arousal, shifting your weight down to feel him sink inside of your warmth.
“[Y/N]- Wait, wait, woah-” He cries out, gripping his hands onto your hips as you begin to slowly rut yourself down. “Did I say we were done? You wanted to feel me,” He gasps, throwing his head back with a strangled moan. “So lay back and take it, Jeffrey.”
Thanks for reading!
Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹
Thanks to my wonderful editors @h3llw1 and @solarbites!
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lunarzstarz · 2 years ago
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Bad Idea E.M
Pairing: Fuckboy!EddieMunson x Virgin!Fem!Reader
Content Warning: NSFW 18+ minors dni, drugs, first Times, oral (F receiving), fingering, protected sex, nicknames (Princess/Sweetheart), Eddie being a goof but also an asshole (Slightly proofread)
Summary: Not wanting to leave for college with your virginity still intact, you turn to your last resort that you know can only end terribly…
A/N: Been in a slump for a while and haven’t had time for writing, finally came up with this and got a bit carried away, definitely gonna be a part two!
As always, likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3
Word Count: 6.4K
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This was a bad idea. 
The gravel crunched beneath your shoes as you walked through the trailer park, looking out for that familiar mop of frizzy curls or that beaten up van. Your breath curling in clouds in front of you with the cold, clinging to the thin fabric of your jacket and now regretting your choice of outfit. What sane person wears a skirt in the middle of winter? He’s definitely gonna know you’re desperate. However, as desperate you knew you looked, with your short skirt, hair done nicely and perfect makeup, you hoped your plan would work. 
You planned everything down to this moment around a week ago when you had decided you couldn’t leave high school without at least some sort of experience. The thought of going off to college without even having properly kissed a boy was embarrassing to you, it felt like everyone your age had lost their virginity but you. You felt left out when all your friends would laugh and joke about their first time or talk about their experiences, even if they didn’t sound that much fun, you just wanted to know what all the fuss was about. So you turned to your last option, one you’d known you’d probably regret in a few hours but it was better than nothing. 
Eddie Munson wasn’t just know for being the town freak, everyone knew he was a certified fuck boy. You were pretty sure he had slept with over half the girls in your year, it was like a game to him to see how many notches he could get on his belt. He’d fuck them, then never speak to them again, acting like it never happened or that they just didn’t exist altogether. It was almost sad to watch all those girls chase after him, some of them would stop him in the hallways, asking to see him again or “hangout”, to go on dates. He’d just laugh at them or call them by the wrong name, whether it was on purpose or he really did sleep around that much that he actually does forget you don’t know. 
You were starting to lose all hope, you’d been searching for ten minutes around the small area and there was no sign of him anywhere. Then you heard the sound of music blasting, echoing off the trailers to you from the other side of the park, it sounded like the kind of stuff he played in the school parking lot, it had to be him, so you followed it. It leads you to a trailer with Eddie’s van parked right outside. You drew a deep breath, trying your best to settle any nerves that you had and hurried yourself up the path so that you didn’t have enough time to second guess yourself and turn around. 
You knocked on the door without hesitation, using the time you had left to check over yourself to make sure everything was in the right place, hair and clothes pristine. Shifting your weight back and forth to soothe yourself, nobody answered. Maybe he just can't hear it over the music? You knock again louder this time. 
You knocked on the door without hesitation, using the time you had left to check over yourself to make sure everything was in the right place, hair and clothes pristine. Shifting your weight back and forth to soothe yourself, nobody answered. Maybe he just can't hear it over the music? You knock again louder this time. 
“Alright! I’m coming Jesus chri-” an agitated shout came from inside over the music, it was lowered then the door swung open. Eddie leaned against the doorway, hair disheveled like he had just woken up, even though it was turning six o’clock. He was wearing a tattered Pantera shirt that had some holes in it, revealing some of his fair skin and some grey sweatpants that hung low on his waist, a lit joint dangling from his plush lips. He may have been an asshole, but god he was a hot one. 
“Yes?” he shakes his head at you when you don’t say anything, curls drooping around his face. 
“Weed” you blurt out, muddling up your words “shit- I- sorry, I’m Y/n, I’m here to buy weed, um Chrissy told me you sell and-” you cut yourself off, too much information. You swore you saw the corner of his mouth twitch. Great not even five minutes in and he’s already laughing at me, so much for trying to act cool. 
“Right” he huffs in acknowledgement, taking a drag from the joint, studying you for a moment before disappearing back into the trailer. You stay put, your body succumbing to numbness with the cold biting at your skin as you wait for him to return, but he doesn’t. “Well, come in, it’s fucking freezing” Eddie calls from inside, so you step past the threshold into the living room shutting the door behind you. 
You stood awkwardly by the door, waiting for his return as you took in your surroundings, it was a lot more homely than you thought it would be. Hats and mugs lining the walls, you smile to yourself when you spot the Garfield one, similar to yours at home. The place smelt of a mixture of weed and cigarette smoke, coffee and man all masked with the scent of cheap lemon air freshener. 
There was some shuffling coming from down the hall, then Eddie emerged with a bag in hand, catching you staring at his home. “Maid took the night off” he says, snapping you from your thoughts, making you flinch. 
“Oh- I wasn’t judging or anything I jus-” 
“Well it's certainly not the Ritz” he gives you a sarcastic, tight lipped smile. 
“No, no I like it, it's cozy” you offer him a shy smile, you’re sure he’s received a lot of criticism for where he lives, trailer park trash some of the kids had called him. 
He’d heard it before from the girls he took back here, “it’s nice” is what they would always say with a small grimace on their face, they were only saying it so they could get in his pants, but for some reason he could tell you were being earnest. “Yeah well…here, half an ounce for twenty five.” 
You reached for your pocket to fish out the cash, then pause “Wait, Chrissy said you only charge fifte-” 
“I charged Chrissy fifteen, last time I checked, you’re not Chrissy” he looks you up and down, something about his stare making you shiver. “Twenty five or nothing” he says, holding out his palm and the bag from your reach, looking done with the whole ordeal already. 
You think for a moment, trying to come out with something to say, something that wouldn’t cut this visit short and stick with your plan. “How about if I suck your dick? Will you give me the discount then?” you offer, shocking yourself with your sudden boldness. 
Eddie’s eyebrows raise in slight surprise, then he huffs a laugh. It wouldn’t be the first time someone offered him a blowjob or sex or the occasional “I’ll show you my tits” in return for some free weed, wouldn't be the first time he’d taken someone up on it. He was just more surprised it came from you, hadn't expected you to say something like that. 
“I’d much rather prefer the extra ten bucks, thanks for the offer though, but you and I both know you’re better than that princess” he spoke to you in a tone that made you feel dumb, but you’d be lying if you said the nickname didn’t excite you a little. “Now, thirty or nothing” his lips curled into a smug grin. 
You roll your eyes “Fine, twenty five” you pull out your cash and shoved it into his palm, he tosses you the bag. You examine the fuzzy green plant while he counts the money, you’d never smoked before “Could you um- show me how to roll? It’s just I’m not very good at it, I’ll pay extra if-”  
He sets the money aside “Save it, look I’ll show you but after you’re gone, got it?” You nod “Sit down” he motions over to the couch. You took a seat and it was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked, Eddie taking a seat next to you, shuffling close so that your knees knocked together. You could smell his cheap cologne and musk that had been overpowered by the joint he was still smoking through the whole interaction. 
“Here, take this” he passes it to you “Now I’m only gonna do this once, so watch closely.” He lifted the grinder and started the process, you’re doing as he said and watching closely. “Don’t let it go out” he snaps at you, so you place the joint between your lips and puff on it like you’d done with cigarettes. Bad Idea. You start choking on the thick, strong smoke, not being used to it. 
“Jesus Christ-” he gets up and heads to the kitchen grabbing a glass and pouring water into it, racing back over to as you finish your spluttering. “You’ve never smoked before” he says more like a statement than a question. 
“What gave it away?” you croak out, thanking him for the water before taking a sip, he laughs a little. 
“I don’t know, maybe you almost choking to death? Better?” he asks once your breathing is normal again, you nod. “Here, try again, only a little” he instructs, you hesitantly hold the joint up to your lips again and take a small drag of the smoke, holding it in your mouth. “Right, now inhale” you do as he says, the smoke filling your lungs, catching your throat slightly but not as bad as the last time. 
You exhale “Better?” he asks again, returning to his spot next to you. 
“Yeah, I just wasn’t expecting it to be so strong.” 
“Nobody does, now watch” he says, picking up one of the rolling papers and starting the process over. You do try to pay attention like he said, but with each extra drag you took it became harder to focus, your attention wandering to him. Eyes straying to stare at his ringed fingers, his face, lips, his tongue poking out between them in concentration or when he licked along the paper to seal the joint. 
By the time he’s finished you feel light, not too high, but it has definitely made you relax, taking up more space, your bare thigh flush with his clothed one. “Thanks” you say a little breathless as he passes it to you, taking his back. You toss it over in your palm, examining it, he’d perfectly wrapped the plant, it made you wonder what other things those hands could do besides roll joints and play guitar.
“You should go now” he sighs, stretching out and laying back on the couch, spreading his legs to take up more room. 
“I should…” you drawl, about to get up and cut your plan short, no you’ve come this far already “But before I do, I need to ask a favor.”
He scoffs “I don’t do favors” he says, taking the final drag, giving you an unamused look. 
“Look, can you atleast hear me out?” you beg, he doesn’t say anything so you take that as a sign to continue. “It’s just- I know you have this reputation-” 
“I don’t fuck virgins” he interupted you, placing the roach into the ashtray “Not anymore.” 
“I didn’t even finish- I- how do you even know I was gonna ask that and how do you know I’m a virgin?” you say, trying to hide how guilty you looked. You hated how he read you like a book, how he knew that’s what you were here for even if your plan was just that, you hated that you really had been that obvious. 
“Well you all have this…look” he shrugs. 
What the fuck was that supposed to mean?
“And you showed up here, unannounced may I add, in that short skirt in the middle of winter, looking all pretty and shit, wanting to suck my dick for free weed, you’re all the same, it’s funny really” he finishes, a smirk pulling on his lips. 
You tried to ignore the fact that he had called you pretty “For the record, I didn’t want to suck your dick” you muttered low, but he caught it, his smile growing. 
“See, you didn’t deny that I was right, you may as well stuck a sign on your back saying fuck me” he retorts, you could tell he was having fun getting under your skin. 
“Fine! You want to know the real reason I came here?” you snap. 
“Oh please sweetheart do tell” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm as he leans his head in his palm, acting like he was really interested with what you had to say. You glared at him, despite the fact you knew he couldn’t care less about why you were here, you continued anyway. 
“I leave for college soon, I just didn’t wanna go being a frigid fuck okay! I just wanted to do it before I left so I didn’t have to worry about it. I wanted to just lose my virginity then move on, no strings attached and seeing as you’re known for fucking basically anything that moves I came to you as a last resort. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You finish with a long sigh, folding your arms and falling back into the cushions. 
He’s almost stunned for a moment, then finally responds “Listen, I’m flattered, really, but like I said, I don’t fuck virgins, so I’m afraid your gonna have to finish your quest elsewhere.” 
“Why not?” you practically whine, maybe you were desperate, he was thoroughly enjoying it though. 
“They get all clingy after, hard to get rid of, expect me to be all nice and sweet and romantic” he says the word with a grimace, like it hurt him to even say it. 
“Well lucky for you I’m not looking for you to be sweet or romance me, trust me I knew that before I got here” you scoff “Look all you have to do is fuck me and I’ll be on my way.” 
“You wound me, I can be sweet” he screws his face up in faux hurt you just roll your eyes “If I wanted to that is, besides that’s what they all say, then they come crawling back for more, I’m just that good” he says with a cocky grin. 
“Oh please, you’re probably not even that good at it” 
He narrows his eyes at you “Oh you are good at this.” 
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about” of course you knew what you were doing. 
“Oh you most certainly do, I know what game you’re playing sweetheart and it’s not gonna work” 
You stand up to leave, brushing yourself off and reaching for your bag of weed “No, no, if you don’t want to fuck me that's just fine.”
It was the perfect angle for Eddie to catch a glance up your skirt, stealing a peek at your cotton underwear and the wet patch that accompanied them. He smiles to himself. It had been a few days since his last hook up, he was running out of options, he’d already fucked a few people that he enjoyed a handful of times, he’d didn’t wanna go back to them again, god forbid they start thinking they’re special. Maybe he should give you a chance. 
“Now, I didn’t say I didn’t want to” he grabs your wrist, not too tightly, easing you to sit back down, this time in his lap “You swear you’ll leave me alone after, no bullshit?” 
Your confidence from earlier now dwindling from sitting on the edge of his knee, you swallow “I swear, you won’t even have to look at me again.” 
That was apparently all the confirmation he needed because in an instant he was on you. He started off slow, pressing his lips softly against yours with small pecks, not what you were expecting. His hands came to rest on your waist, even though your shirt you could feel the burn it left behind on your skin, you kept your hands to yourself, not knowing where to touch. 
Eddie must’ve sensed this “Here” he mumbles against your lips “Like this.” He pulled back, guiding you to face him, placing your thighs on either side of his hips so that you were straddling him, cores flush together. He slid your jacket off your shoulders and tossed it aside, stroking down your bare arms until he reached your wrists, lifting them to rest your palms against his chest. You run your hands over the expanse of his clothed chest to his shoulders then back again feeling his warmth, looking back at him, he’s watching you intently “Better?” 
“Mhm” you nod, not trusting yourself to speak right now.
“Oh come on, don’t go so quiet on me now, I was quite enjoying your little games” he teases, leaning in to kiss along your jaw, starting to venture down your neck, teeth grazing your skin. 
“I-it’s better” you breathe out, you’d never been this close to anyone before. 
He starts placing wet kisses over the sensitive skin of your neck, you feel him suck onto you, not too harsh at first, testing to see how you respond. You let one of your hands slip up behind his head to tangle your fingers in his messy curls, pushing him further into you. Taking this as a hint he sucks harder earning a gasp from you, feeling his smug grin spread across your skin. 
You pulled him back, noticing the way he groaned, he liked when you tugged on his hair, you’d remember that. It was clumsy, but you crashed your mouth onto his and instead of him making a comment on how bad you were at making out, he quickly corrected you, tongue sliding over your bottom lip before you let him in. It was easier than you thought, the way you got the hang of it quickly following his movements as you explored each others mouths, both of you tasting the shared joint. 
Eddie’s hands that rested on your hips trailed down your legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake as he slipped them up the back of your thighs, groping at them, pulling you impossibly closer. You could already feel the hard on growing beneath you, his hands slipping further up your skirt to cup your ass and use it as leverage to grind you against him. 
“Oh-” you broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his at the feeling, your clothed clit brushing against him. 
“That feel good?” he asks, doing it again, harder this time. 
“Y-yeah” you let out a shaky breath and then he’s leaning up to kiss you again. Each drag against your core felt better than the one before, he had you gasping as he ground his hips up into you, groaning against your lips when he felt you start moving on your own. He returned his hands to your waist, letting you move at your own pace, mouthing at any skin he could get at. 
“Can I take this off?” he asks, tugging on the hem of your shirt. He felt you stop, eyes shooting open to look at him, he could see the hesitation. 
Nobody had ever seen you like that before “Okay, but- just” you couldn’t find the right words. He’d slept with lots of girls, all kinds, you knew that he wouldn’t judge you or at least you hoped he wouldn’t. 
“What?” he stops, sensing your sudden unease. 
“I- look just don’t judge me okay?” you reach for the bottom of your shirt and he stops you. 
“Why would I do that?” he looked sincere, but the Eddie you heard of, you didn’t think he was capable of such things. 
“I don’t know, it’s just nobody has seen me naked before, and I know you’ve seen a lot of girls, just don’t want you thinking I look weird or something…” you avoid looking at him, oh god what if he thinks I’m weird…
“Listen, I’ve seen you with clothes on and you look pretty fucking hot to me and you’ll probaly look even better naked and as far as weird goes unless you have some third tit I don’t know about, which I’m sure I’d still be pretty into, then you have nothing to worry about.”
You both burst into a fit of laughter at the third tit comment, but it makes you feel alot better and at ease. “Well, no, sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t” you say through your laughter. 
“Okay then, let’s see them” he says, the laughter dying down. You reach for your shirt and pull it up over your head, throwing it aside to join your jacket.
When you look back down Eddie’s smiling at you, well at your boobs, it makes you laugh again “I thought you’d get tired of seeing them by now” you quip, he looks back at you. 
“Trust me, I don’t,” he reached up to cup them, giving them a firm squeeze in their cups before reaching one hand around to unclasp your bra, removing it in record time. He looks up at you, like he’s waiting on something. 
“What? You want me to applaud you?” you tease. 
“Maybe, was thinking I deserve more than that though, maybe a prize?” 
“Maybe if it was your first time, but I know you’ve had plenty of practice, how many girls have you shown that trick to?” you cock your head at him, you enjoyed teasing him “I’ll get back to you though if they make a prize for the worlds cockiest bastard though.”
He rolls his eyes at you “Alright are you here to chit-chat or fuck me?” 
You felt his cock through the thin fabric of your underwear and his pants, he was hard as rock now, your confidence growing, you grind down against it. His eyelids flutter, head resting on the back of the couch “Do that again.” 
So you do, going back to what you were doing moments ago, quickly falling back into rhythm. Eddie grabbed and groped at your chest, kissing all over the new exposed skin, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth making you mewl. He sucked and nipped and caressed every inch he could get at until you were a whining mess.
“Please Eddie” you moan, hands raking through his hair.
“Here or the bedroom?” He asks, pulling off of your chest that was now covered in faded red marks and spit.
You chose the latter. He mumbled for you to hold on, picking you up and carrying you from the couch to the room down the hall.
He placed you down on the bed, you lay in the middle, head propped up on the pillows, looking around the room. It was messy, clothes scattered around the floor, books and sheets of paper with scribbled down lyrics, one had words on it that looked like a love song, you smile to yourself. How ironic.
Your attention is brought back to him when he starts to remove his shirt, revealing all the ink that was hidden behind it, you were taking it all in. You also notice the wet patch on his sweatpants where you had been sitting, your cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment “I’m sorry…” 
He looks at you confused, then notices what you’re looking at and that smug grin returns “It’s all good” he comes back over to the bed, climbing on to lean over you “Another thing about virgins” he starts, undoing the zipper on your skirt and looking up at you for confirmation and continuing when you nod. He pulls it off leaving you in just your underware, his grin spreading when he sees that your fucking soaked “They get wet so easily.” 
“Is that bad?” you ask, looking to find your underwear absolutely ruined. 
“Fuck no, it’s good, really good” he hooks his fingers into the waistband “Can I?” 
“Yes, please” you reply, desperate for him to finally touch you. 
He pulls them off of you, shutting your legs at the sudden cool air hitting your dripping folds. “Just gotta get her warmed up first though, don’t wanna hurt her” he says, guiding your legs apart. You were confused on what he meant by her, but soon caught on that he was talking to your cunt, flushing at the realization. 
He got level with it, you felt so vulnerable like this, his face inches away from your center. “W-what are you doing?” you ask, as he placed soft kisses to the inside of your thighs. 
“Do you trust me?” he pauses, resting his head on your leg. 
“Not in the slightest” you tried to bring that teasing side out again. 
“Good” he smirks up at you “I promise it will feel good, haven’t had a complaint yet.” 
He sees that uncertainty again and takes your hand “Hey, I promise” he tries again and for some reason you believe him. The way he looked at you, it made you feel different. Eddie wasn’t what you had expected, a lot softer, more caring, sweet and nothing like the rumours you’d heard. Perhaps it was because of the comment you made earlier “I can be sweet…if I want to.” He wanted to be sweet with you, but how many other girls had he been sweet with? Maybe he was just being like this to prove a point, you had to remind yourself you wouldn’t be the first and certainly not the last. You weren’t special, he was only doing this because you begged him to, because you were desperate like all the other girls before you. You had to remember that. 
“Always wondered if you’d taste as good as you looked” he says, looking up at you from between your thighs. Always? You were so sure Eddie didn’t even know who you were until about thirty minutes ago, even if you did go to the same school, it was almost like he’d been thinking about you for a while. No. You told yourself that wasn’t what he meant. 
You weren’t given enough time to over think his choice of wording anymore, not when you felt his tongue press against your entrance before licking a long strip all the way up your center to your sensitive clit. 
“Holy shit!” you practically scream, your hand flying up to cover your mouth, you hadn’t been expecting it to feel like that. It was different, but a good different, fucking brilliant different. Your reaction only fueled his ego, so he continued lapping up everything you gave him. The sounds were lewd. You’d feel embarrassed if it hadn’t felt so good. 
You looked down to find him already staring up at you with those big brown eyes, grinding his hips into the mattress below you. He sucked onto your clit, tugging on it and pulling off with a pop “Come on, let me hear all those pretty sounds you make.” He reached up to pull your hand away, placing it by your side “I like it when they’re loud, it’s good for the reputation” he gives you that cocky grin and you glare at him, but before you can think of something to say back, he’s diving back in again to devour you like a man starved. 
You can feel the coil in your stomach tighten, but everything hits you tenfold when he slips one of his fingers into you making your back arch. His touch felt so good, he definitely knew what he was doing, you were beginning to understand why all those girls came crawling back even after he treated them like shit. 
You felt his second finger push into you and with his hands being bigger than your own, the stretch was there, the slight pressure building, but he’s quick to ease you through it. “Oh fuck- Eddie please I’m gonna-” you’re cut off when he latches onto your clit again, curling the two fingers up into your sweet spot, leaving you moaning his name like a prayer. 
Your hands reach for his hair, your grip tight, tugging on his scalp making him groan into you adding to the mix, making you tip over that edge. Your thighs closed around him, he didn’t mind though, he relished in the feeling of you grinding against his face as you rid out your high. “Fuck-” you whimper, he wasn’t stopping, dragging your orgasm out for as long as he could. It was entirely different to any you’d given yourself, stronger, you felt it through your whole body, like electricity running through your core. 
You had to pry him away when it got too much, your thighs trembling with the oversensitivity. Your head falls back onto the pillows, breathing unsteady. “That was-” you couldn’t even find the words. You open your eyes to find Eddie hovering over you with that smug grin, lips puffy and chin glistening with your arousal. 
“Still don’t think I’m any good?” he leans down to kiss you again, you could taste yourself on him, it made you ache. 
When you finally came back down from your high, you were grabbing at him, his hair, chest, arms, waist, anything to bring him closer. You wanted more, needed him inside of you. You let your hands wander, sliding down the expanse of his stomach to the trail of hair at his waistband, he pulled back. 
“You sure you’re ready?” he asks, brushing away the stray hairs that had stuck to your forehead. 
“Yeah, I’m ready” he gives you one last peck before getting up to remove his sweatpants, opening up the bedside drawer and pulling out a foil packet and tearing it open with his teeth and rolling the condom down his legnth. You were staring at it. You’d never seen a dick in person, so maybe it was just because it was your first time, but he was big. It was definitely gonna be a stretch, you’d heard from others that the first time is almost always painful. 
“You okay?” Eddie asks, sitting on his knees between your legs, hiking them up around his waist, his cock resting against your folds. 
“Y-yeah, I’m okay” you swallow, diverting your eyes back to his. 
“It might feel a little uncomfortable at first, but if you need me to stop at any time just let me know, ‘kay?” he was rubbing soothing circles into your hip with the pad of his thumb, trying to get you to relax again. 
“Okay” you nod, voice weak as he starts sliding his tip through your folds, nudging your clit, earning small gasps from you. It catches on your entrance and you screw your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what was coming. He pushes into you, one inch at a time, going slow and watching you for any signs of discomfort or pain. 
The stretch was there, feeling like a dull ache, but nothing like you were expecting. “Just relax” Eddie’s voice made you release the breath you were holding. 
He pushes over half his length into you and you whine, the ache growing a little, but you loved it, you wanted all of him. “Please Eddie” you reach for him, bringing him closer to you, pushing the rest of him inside as he comes face to face with you. You’d never felt so full. 
“Fuck- you can’t just do that” Eddie groans as he bottoms out, feeling your tight walls stretch around him. He was leaning over you, using his forearms on either side of your head, caging you in, watching your face contort beneath him as you adjusted to his size. “Look at me” he whispers, so close you could feel his warm smokey breath on your neck. You open your eyes and he smiles down at you “How’s that feel?” 
“Big” you sigh, the air having been knocked out of you, he laughs. 
“I’m gonna start moving now” he warns you before pulling his hips back slowly, his cock dragging over spots deep inside of you that you hadn’t even known existed. Eddie starts his slow, languid pace, pulling out and thrusting back into at a painfully slow speed. He kisses all over, cheeks, lips, neck, chest, easing in and out, checking in on you, it feels great, but you need more. 
“Can you go a little f-faster?” you gasp, his tip nudges over your sweet spot. 
“Don’t wanna- shit- hurt you” he curses when he feels you squeeze around him, struggling to hold himself back from doing what he really wanted to. 
“Please, I can handle it” you plead “I want it harder, please” voice going up an octave as his hips snapping into you. 
“Don’t think I’d be able to stop if I do Sweetheart, are you sure?” 
“Yes! Please, just- just fuck me already” you huff, frustration building. 
He pulls all the way out until it is just his tip inside, then slamming back into you with brutal force. Your back arches off the mattress, hands twisting in the comforter beneath you as he starts fucking into you at an animalistic pace that had you seeing stars. 
“B-better?” he pants, head falling into the crook of your neck. Maybe it was a praise thing with him, maybe that's why he slept around so much, the validation. 
“Fuck- s-so much better” you cry, hands reaching up to run along his back, nails digging into his pale flesh when you feel him start to bite on your neck, sucking a bruise into your pulse point. With each thrust, he rocked his hips against you, the coarse hair at his base grinding against your clit. 
You slid a hand up along his shoulder blades to the nape of his neck, finding purchase in his hair, tugging on it harshly earning satisfied moans from him. “Christ- You feel so tight, fucking pussy is taking me so well” he pulls away from your neck, meeting your fucked out gaze. 
“Oh my- feels so good Eds, so close” you slur, drunk on his cock, the feeling of him pounding into you, abusing your sweet spot and the wet sounds echoing off the walls, had you hurtling to your impending orgasm. He reached behind and grabbed the back of one of your knees, pushing it further up, hitting you at a new angle that had you chanting his name like it was the only word you knew. 
“That’s it, shit- squeezing me so fucking tight baby, you gonna cum?” he rests his damp forehead “Gonna cum all over my cock?” 
You don’t even have time to find the words, your release hitting you like fucking truck. Your eyes rolling back, mouth falling open in a silent scream as you let the pleasure rattle through your entire body, your ears ringing. Eddie wasn’t long to follow, feeling your slick walls clamp down on him making him spill his load into the condom. 
He collapses on top of you, both of you gasping to catch your breath. You’d never felt anything so amazing, your head was light, your whole body felt like it was on fire. You blink up at the ceiling, Eddie’s face planted in your chest, heartbeat racing. 
A moment passes and you’ve never felt more content in your life, running your fingers through his hair as you both lay there, too spent to move, coming down from your highs. You felt him shift beneath you, pulling out of you making you hiss at the sensitivity. “Fuck” he lets out a long sigh, rolling over to lay next to you. 
“That was incredible” you laugh, suddenly all giddy inside, turning on your side to watch him. He stood up, peeling off the condom and throwing it into the trash before picking up his discarded pants, slipping them back on and grabbing a cigarette from the table next to you. He offers you one which you take, it seemed like the right thing to do. 
He disappeared down the hall, so you stayed where you were, puffing anxiously, he still hadn’t said anything. He returns a moment later, your clothes in hand, picking up the other scattered items from the floor and handing them to you. “Well this was nice and all, but I have company coming over, so you know...” Oh. 
“Oh, yeah, right, sorry” you took the hint and got up, a small ache settling in your core. You silently changed back into your close, trying to ignore all those negative feelings that threatened to arise. Not now You told yourself. You knew this was going to happen, this is how it was always going to be. You had been preparing for this before you had even got here, it’s just how Eddie was, it wasn’t gonna change just for you. Though you had hoped that he’d even lay with you for just a little while or call you pretty one more time. 
Once you were fully dressed, you checked yourself in the mirror, hair disheveled, smudged mascara and lip gloss, the purple bruises forming on your skin. You try your best to look at least half decent before you leave. Eddie clears his throat behind you and you fight the urge to hit him, he was giving you whiplash with how quick he went from being sweet and concerned Eddie to a complete and total douchebag. 
You leave the room, him following closely after you. You grab your bag of weed from the coffee table and turn to him one last time, trying not to show anything other than that you were completely normal about this whole encounter. You’d tried to think of something smart to say, but nothing came. “Thanks for the drugs and well you know…” you divert your eyes to the door, noticing the rain “shit.” 
“Well, better get home quick, looks like a storm is coming” Eddie sighs, opening the door for you. 
You clung to your very thin and very absorbent jacket, giving him one last hateful stare before stepping out onto the porch. “See ya, asshole” you mutter the last word, hoping he didn’t catch it as you walked out into the rain. You knew this was how it was gonna end, you just thought you would have enjoyed it for even a moment longer, but here you were in your soggy shoes and drenched jacket, shivering with the cold, your thoughts eating you up inside as you start you long walk home. 
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therealcocoshady · 2 months ago
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The Hoodie
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A/N : Hey guys ! I'm sorry, I'm not uploading a lot, these days. I have been drowning in work for my PhD dissertation... Also, I've been super sick. I actually allowed myself a break for daydreaming about snuggling in Marshall's hoodie 👀. Anyway, here is a little blurb and I hope you enjoy it ❤️.
Summary : you are dating Eminem and you are sick while spending a few days at his place. Ever the thoughtful boyfriend, he comforts you and gives you one of his favorite Detroit Lions hoodie.
CW : Fluff
The Michigan wind whipped through the trees outside, rattling against the windows.Marshall sat at his desk in the corner of his home studio, trying to focus. Beats thumped softly in the background, lyrics half-formed in his mind, but something wasn’t right.A small cough echoed from the bedroom, reminding him why he couldn’t concentrate. You had been battling a nasty cold for days now. You’d tried to play it off at first, but the stubborn fever, the constant sniffling, and the exhausted look in your eyes were impossible to ignore.He sighed, running a hand over his face before standing up. He was busy and he had tons of work to do for his upcoming projects, but he didn’t like the thought of being locked in the home studio while his girlfriend being sick in bed. It felt incredibly selfish. It was bad enough that he had to spend part of what should have been a lazy weekend with you working, and he wanted to be there to comfort you. You’d been together for a little while, nearly a year, and, though he’d been guarded at first, he had come to care for you deeply and it was time to put the feeling in action. 
He walked down the hall, pausing at the door to the bedroom. You were curled up under the thick comforter, your nose peeking out from the blankets. Your hair was a mess, but even like this, he couldn’t help but think that you had that effortless beauty that always caught him off guard.“You okay?” he asked softly, stepping into the room.You peeked one eye open, offering him a weak smile. “Been better,” you rasped. “But I’m surviving.”Marshall frowned, moving to sit on the edge of the bed. “You should’ve told me earlier how bad it was. You’re burning up.” You chuckled lightly, but it ended in a coughing fit. You waved a hand dismissively once it passed. “Just a cold. I didn’t want to bother you.” Marshall shook his head. “You ain’t bothering me. You should’ve said something.” He stood up, heading toward the closet. “Hold up. You’re always freezing. I got something for you.”
You watched him curiously as he rummaged through a pile of clothes before pulling out his favorite Detroit Lions hoodie. It was old, worn in, and oversized, but it was the softest thing he owned. “That’s your favorite hoodie.”, you pointed out. He smirked, shaking his head. “Yeah, but you’re cold. And if you get better faster, maybe I’ll get it back sooner.” He tossed it onto the bed next to you. “Put it on. You’ll be warmer.” You hesitated for a second but then reached out, grabbing the hoodie and slipping it over your head. As soon as the fabric touched your skin, you melted into its warmth. It was so soft and smelled faintly of him—of cologne and something uniquely Marshall. You buried your face in the collar, sighing contentedly. “Okay, you were right. This is amazing.” Marshall chuckled, leaning back against the wall, arms crossed. “Told you. That’s a certified Detroit classic right there. Ain’t nobody who wouldn’t feel better wearing it.” You gave a small laugh, your eyes heavy with exhaustion but a bit of the tension seemed to leave your body as you got cozy in the hoodie. “I’m not giving this back,” you teased, your words a little slurred as you started to drift off. Marshall smiled faintly, watching you. “You keep it. Looks better on you anyway.”. 
After a few days, you finally got better. You hadn’t let go of the hoodie. The warmth, the smell, and the comfort it gave you had become your safety blanket. Standing in the kitchen, you caught your reflection in the window—there you were, swimming in his oversized hoodie, the faded Lions logo worn down from years of wear. As much as you loved how it made you feel, you knew you couldn’t keep it forever. You knew it was his favorite and you had come to understand that he could get very sentimental when it comes to certain items. You heard Marshall come in behind you, his steps heavy on the wooden floor. He dropped his keys on the counter and cracked open a bottle of water, taking a long sip before leaning against the kitchen island, watching you with that half-smirk of his.
“You look better,” he commented, his eyes flicking to the hoodie you were still wrapped up in. You tugged at the sleeves, glancing down at yourself. “Yeah, I’m feeling a lot better. Thanks to this, mostly.” You gestured at the hoodie, then gave him a sheepish smile. “Speaking of which, I should probably give it back.” Marshall raised an eyebrow, setting his water bottle down. “Why would you do that?” You let out a soft laugh. “Because it’s yours? And I’ve been hogging it for days now. I mean, it’s your favorite.” He stepped forward, closing the distance between you, eyes narrowing in mock seriousness. “It was my favorite,” he said, his voice low but teasing. “But now it’s yours.” You blinked, surprised. “What do you mean? You love this thing.”. “Yeah, but I love seeing you in it more.” Marshall shrugged casually, but there was an earnestness in his voice that caught you off guard. He reached out, gently pulling at one of the sleeves, the fabric falling long past your fingertips. “You look good in it. Better than I ever did.”. Your heart fluttered, and you couldn’t help but smile, though you tried to downplay it. “I don’t know, you kinda rocked the baggy hoodie look,” you teased. Marshall chuckled, his eyes softening as he gazed at you. “Nah, you can keep it. I’ll grab another one. It’s just a hoodie, anyway.” You bit your lip, looking down at the oversized garment again, fingers tracing the worn-out logo. It felt like more than just a hoodie. It felt like a piece of him—something intimate and familiar, something you never realized you needed until now. “But it’s not just a hoodie,” you said softly, glancing up at him. “It’s yours. It smells like you… and it’s—" You paused, realizing how cheesy you were about to sound. “It’s kinda special.” Marshall gave you a small, crooked smile. “Yeah, it’s special. And that’s why I want you to have it. You’ve been through a lot this past week. It makes me feel better knowing you got something to hold onto when I’m not around.” You looked at him, your heart warming at the sentiment. He wasn’t always good with words when it came to this kind of stuff, but when he was, it hit you right in the chest. You stepped closer to him, arms wrapping around his waist, your face pressed against his chest. “Thank you,” you mumbled into his shirt, your voice muffled but sincere. “For everything.” He rested his chin on top of your head, his arms coming up to hold you close. “Don’t mention it. Just... don’t forget to wash it every once in a while. I don’t want my hoodie to smell like Vicks forever,” he joked, the vibration of his chest making you giggle. You pulled back slightly, smirking up at him. “No promises.” Marshall laughed, shaking his head, but his smile lingered as he looked down at you, still tucked into his hoodie like it was made just for you. “You know,” he said thoughtfully, “it’s not about the hoodie. It’s just... I like knowing you’re taken care of. Even if it’s something small like that.”. You tilted your head, your eyes softening as you gazed up at him. “You’re sweet, you know that?”. He groaned dramatically, rolling his eyes. “Don’t start with that,” he muttered, but the corners of his mouth twitched as if he couldn’t hold back the smile completely. You laughed and stood on your  tiptoes, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Too late.” For a moment, you both stood there in the kitchen, wrapped in each other’s arms, the hoodie now a symbol of something more between you. It wasn’t just about the comfort it gave you—it was about how it made you feel connected to him, even in the simplest of ways. As you settled back against his chest, Marshall kissed the top of your head, his voice a soft murmur in the quiet of the room. “Keep the hoodie,” he said again, this time almost a whisper. “It’s yours. Like me.”
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hbyrde36 · 7 months ago
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STWG Daily Prompt 04/28/24
as chosen by our own @penny00dreadful
Fairytale✨
He was never going to find her.
Steve sighed heavily, letting his lunch tray drop to the table as he plopped down into his seat next to Nancy and Jonathan, the spot he’d been occupying ever since he’d had some sense knocked into him and dumped Tommy and Carol as friends for good. 
He’d gotten a lot of funny looks for that move, not only because he’d nuked his popularity along with his friendships, but because Nancy had dumped him for Jonathan, or so the rumor mill said, and yet here he was beside them. The truth was that their uncoupling had been a mutual decision, they just didn’t care enough to correct the narrative. 
But, back to Steve’s lament. 
It’d been almost a week since he saw her, the mystery girl that he’d spent almost the entire Halloween Ball with. They hadn’t spoken at all, the music had been too loud for that, but they’d stuck close to each other all night, danced, shared a few laughs as they pointed out their classmates' costumes–both good and bad– and shared a brief, but earth shattering kiss in a dark corner of the gym.
Now normally, Steve wouldn’t have been caught dead at one of the school’s dances, but his high school career was rapidly coming to a close, and honestly he was just trying to get himself out there, make some better memories before he was forced to grow up and enter the adult world.
Also… Nancy and Jonathan had made him.
Then they’d ditched him to go make out in the darkroom, but that was fine, It’d all been worth it to meet—her.
Steve only stepped away for a moment to get them a couple drinks, but when he returned to their spot by the bleachers, she was gone, the only evidence that she’d ever been there at all was a ring left behind on the floor. He picked it up, remembering how she’d fiddled with them a lot, her many rings, and must have dropped this one without realizing. 
He pocketed it, knowing it would be the key to finding her again.
Because, and this was his dilemma, on top of not knowing his mystery girl’s name, he also had no idea what she really looked like. While his Indiana Jones costume had left no question as to his own identity, she’d been dressed as a mummy, wrapped up in layers of gauzy fabric, only showing off her long dark curly hair, the biggest most gorgeous brown eyes he’d ever seen, and perfect pink pouty lips.
After spending the last several days combing the school, asking every brunette he came across if the ring was hers—to no avail—Steve had all but given up, assuming the girl had been someone’s friend or cousin visiting from out of town.
“What’s all this?” Steve asked, finally noticing the stack of photos Jonathan had spread out on the table around them. 
Jonathan took a bite of his sandwich, answering with his mouth still half full. “group shots of all the clubs for the yearbook, I just got them developed.”
Steve pushed his own lunch away, not hungry, and pulled a few of the pictures closer to him. He wasn’t really looking, looking, there wouldn’t be anyone in those pictures he hadn’t already seem roaming the halls, or so he thought. Then he spotted a familiar piece of jewelry on the finger of someone entirely unexpected. 
Eddie Munson, head of the Hellfire Club. 
He reached into his pocket and pulled the ring out, keeping it hidden under the table as he looked between it and the one in the photo. Same band, same stone, same black nail polish on the hand’s fingers too.
Dark curly hair, check. 
Big beautiful brown eyes, check. 
Soft pouty pink lips, double check.
Okay, so, the mystery girl wasn’t a girl at all. It explained why he’d had so much trouble finding her at least.
Steve sat with that fact throughout the rest of the lunch period, and by the time the bell rang had decided that it didn’t change a thing. He wasn’t freaked out that he’d kissed a boy, he didn’t even care that it was Munson, certified freak and D&D nerd. He was a little embarrassed that he’d assumed his special someone was a girl just because he had long hair and pretty eyes, but moving past that—
Now Steve just had to woo his man.
“Hey, Munson?” Steve called out as he jogged down the hallway, approaching the other boy from behind just as he was closing his locker. 
Eddie startled, his eyes going wide as he turned to see who had snuck up on him, but recovered quickly.
“Steeeeeeeve Harrington, what can I do for his former-royal-highness?”
Steve stepped in close, glancing around to make sure no one was watching them before he took Eddie’s hand, gently turning it over, and placed the ring in the center of his palm.  
“I think you dropped this.”
Permanent taglist (open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers
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as-is-above-so-below · 2 years ago
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The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader
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Let's Have a Baby 2.0
summary: Ghost’s sniper wife (reader) joins Task Force 141 on an op, against his wishes call sign: Freyja warning: implied sexual content, MDNI Note: A special thank you to @lethalchiralium and @peachesofteal for workshopping with me, per usual, and for being the best beta! Enjoy and blessed be! << Previous | Next >>
Simon Riley did not cry when his first daughter was born.
He didn’t know how to process his grief amid his love’s agony and emptiness. She spent days on end, curled into the plush rocker in the corner of the empty nursery or lying flat on her back, staring at the white ceiling. His guilt was no match for her shame – as she clutched the tiny hospital blanket to her chest, sobbing that she couldn’t name her. Couldn’t name the daughter that they didn’t get to bring home.
Her wails – I’m sorry I’m weak, Please don’t hate me, I'm fucking useless – echoed in Simon’s mind when he named that baby. He knew, in his heart, that Freyja loved her with her entire being, everything she had. He knew that, if she could, she would have picked the most beautiful name, better than anything he could have come up with on his own. So he named her after his wife, so his daughter would never leave his mind.
When Joan Vanadís was born, Simon stared at her for hours. He memorized every detail of her soft features, inhaled her scent, and poured over her deep brown eyes and button nose. His wife barely got to hold her in her first day of life. Sure, he had cried, as many fathers do in the delivery room. He was completely unsure of how it was possible that he helped create this beautiful, innocent little person.
But his son, oh his son, was an entirely different animal.
Where Joanie came roaring into the world, Arthur Simon was quiet. Quiet like his father, but the spitting image of his mum, minus Simon’s curved nose (Poor thing, he thought). The gentle cry from such a delicate thing broke whatever terrified stupor he’d been in since learning that they were having a boy. The doctor placed the blue bundle on his wife’s chest, and he instantly broke down. The ‘big bad Ghost’ was a blubbering mess as their son’s small hand curled into her skin, his eyes closed, and his mouth curled into a frown. He hesitated, hand hovering over the boy until Freyja’s came and pressed his palm into the tiny body, much smaller than Joanie’s when she was born. The steady rhythm of Arthur’s little lungs working underneath his fingertips made something inside his chest snap and crumble into dust.
Whatever fear he had about having a son was gone. As he had promised their daughters, he again swore that he would be better. Better than his father. He promised he would raise Arthur the way he should have been.
In the months that followed, taking care of his son healed a piece of Simon Riley. A piece that needed the father he had fought so hard to be.
The newborn seemed to have that effect on people, particularly overgrown men.
Arthur’s godfathers and grandfather returned to England about three months after he was born. Johnny brought his partners by the second they stepped off the plane, not even offering time to dress down in civilian clothes.
König was the first in the house, carrying his and Roach’s duffels as Johnny snuck in a moment alone with their partner outside. Freyja appeared, almost making him jump out of his skin at her sudden appearance.
“Herrgott, Kapitän!” he cried, hand on his pounding heart. “You scared me.”
Freyja had Artie strapped to her chest, sucking happily on his pacifier as he stared up at her face. He was already a certifiable mama’s boy, always enamored with her and clinging to her at every waking moment (and then some). “Oh, thank god,” she sighed, unraveling the fabric from her waist and shoulders. “I need a nap.”
His eyes blew wide through the holes of his hood, and he quickly stepped back. “Nein, Freyja, ich will ihn erschrecken—”
“König, nimm deinen Patensohn.” She didn’t allow him any time to hesitate, pressing the baby against his chest. The Austrian immediately dropped the bags from his shoulders, wrapped one arm under the baby’s bum, and rested one large hand against his back.
“Freyja–!”
She was gone.
König desperately wanted to give him back. He couldn’t take the heartbreak of another kid, especially his own nephew, staring at him with pure terror, trying to get away to safety. But this child, a sweet thing, had easily and without hesitation reached for him when Freyja moved to hand him off. It was as if he already sensed that his mom would never hand him off to someone that didn’t have her full trust.
He had gotten used to Joan by that point, but she was almost a year old when he saw her last. And she was much bigger than the infant boy in his arms, done up in an (admittedly) adorable, light blue onesie, with stripes nearly resembling those of the Scotland flag (Soap most definitely bought it for that reason and that reason alone). What if he dropped him? What if he held him too tight? What if he moved and hit Arthur’s head on something? What if–
A small tug caught his attention, his mask shifting downward. König glanced down at the boy curiously pulling the thing toward his mouth, which he put a stop to. “Iss das nicht, welpe. Du weißt nicht, wo es war,” he whispered, using a finger to nudge Arthur’s fist away from his mouth.
They simply stared at each other, the man holding the baby’s gaze, surprised that the little one was tolerating it. Then in a shocking turn of events, Art jerked the fabric up and over his head, making cooing and gurgling sounds that resembled an attempt at a laugh. Both under the hood now, König froze for a moment, completely and utterly bewildered. No grown adult, let alone an infant, had ever warmed up to the giant so quickly, immediately. Artie made another noise, and beyond his control, tears started to flow freely down his paint-smudged cheeks, a huge smile lighting up their dark cavern.
As König sobbed and shook, he pressed his forehead against Arthur’s, trembling body clinging to his godson like a lifeline.
König didn’t know how long he stood there with gentle but clumsy hands palming his scars and features, reveling in the attention. He never wanted it to end. He didn’t fail to notice what felt like Ghost’s hand on his opposite shoulder, brief but definitely present; then, the familiar press of Johnny’s cheek between his shoulder blades and the imprint of his firm hands on his hips.
Yeah, you could say Arthur Simon had a gift for healing.
.
.
.
“Uh oh, Dada!”
Freyja chuckled at her husband’s exasperated expression, staring at the ceiling as the plastic cup bounced across the floor. Simon had spent the last ten minutes trying to slice up an orange for Joan, who, in that time, had thrown the loose cereal onto the floor, tossed her plastic fork across the room, and finally dumped the cup of water into his lap.
“Yeah, uh oh,” he sighed, bending to pick up the cup but not bothering with his now-soaked pants. “Lovie, I’m almost done. You have to be patient. We don’t throw things.”
“No!”
“Look, Joanie, here.” Simon broke a wedge off and held it out for her. Two little hands took the fruit, holding the rind as Joan gummed at the soft flesh. “Can you say, ‘Thank you, Daddy’?”
“No!”
“You’re welcome, baby.”
Arthur rested quietly in his mother’s arms with his cheek pressed against her breast as he dozed after finishing a bottle. Some mothers would have found Arthur’s level of attachment overwhelming; he rarely wanted to be put down, oftentimes crying out for her even when handed off to Simon. Similar to how Joanie gravitated to her father, Artie clung to her, and Freyja took pride in that.
When she looked up from her son, she found Simon had stripped out of his soiled sweatpants and now sat in only black boxer briefs. It was an unusually lazy day due to the poor weather outside. Simon got the kids up and fed at the usual time but didn’t do much to dress them, opting for fresh onesies. Joan’s was a dark navy, while Art’s was cream with mini tan teddy bears.
Joanie finished the orange slice quickly and placed the rind on her plate. She balled one hand into a fist and slapped the top with an open palm in a jerky movement. “Dada, more.”
“That’s right, ‘more’,” he praised, mimicking the sign for her. “Good job asking. Here.”
He placed the rest of her snack on the tray, and she immediately started nibbling at one. Simon leaned forward with his forearm on his knee, getting to eye level with the girl. “I’d really like an orange. Could you share with Daddy, lovie?” he asked while offering a hand. They had quickly learned to keep her hands occupied and practice hand-eye coordination in constructive ways, rather than letting her get bored. That was when she tended to start throwing things, as demonstrated by Simon’s now discarded pants.
She seemed to consider it, before dropping the piece she had already half finished in his palm and grabbing another.
“I meant one that wasn’t half-eaten, but this’ll do. Thank you.” He met Freyja’s eyes, his cheeks tight with laughter as he finished the fruit. 
The rain thundered against the glass windows, filling the space behind Joanie’s giggles at the funny faces Simon made. Her clothed feet kicked the legs of her chair. It was there – in their kitchen on a rainy Tuesday afternoon – Freyja realized just how content she was with the life they had built together. Observing her husband as he wiped the sticky juices dribbling down their daughter’s chin and pushed her blonde curls back; her touch brushing their son’s warm, squishy cheek with her thumb.
She soaked in the atmosphere a moment longer before speaking. “Simon?”
“Yeah, love?”
“I think Artie’s my last.” Her voice was quiet, almost unsure. They’d never really discussed just how many kids they wanted. Against his initial fears, Simon was a natural; he was just as much in his element taking care of their kids as he was on the battlefield. She didn’t want to take that away if he wanted more, but she honestly couldn’t go through it again. Recovering from a c-section royally sucked, but giving birth naturally was not an option.
Simon’s brows pinched together as he swiveled away from Joanie, searching her face. He watched how her careful fingers stroked Arthur’s face, her other hand wrapped around the baby’s thigh to secure him to her. Her touch slid down to his chest, measuring his tiny heartbeat and steady breaths. He often did the same with both of their children; the gesture grounded him in their reality, and he figured it did the same for her. “Alright,” he finally said. “I’ll call for an appointment to get snipped.”
He said it as if he were talking about grabbing a takeaway on his way home from work, which gave Freyja a slight shock.
“Just like that?” she asked, turning in her chair to face him better. “Are you sure?”
“You’ve given me three beautiful babies,” Simon cooed, reaching to drag his large hands up and down her thighs. Freyja melted into his touch, legs spreading so his knee could slot between hers. “S’the least I can do. If you’re done, so am I. I had a feeling, anyway.”
“A vasectomy just seems a bit extreme. Maybe we can just use condoms?”
He raised a brow at her with an upside-down grin, challenging her. “Do you wanna try that again, with feeling? Look me in the eye and tell me you’re never gonna let me cum in you, ever again?”
“...Birth control?”
“Remind me, how did we have our daughters?”
“I hate you.”
“But I’m right.”
“You’re so annoying.”
“Still right, though.” Simon rose from the table and leaned over her, resting his weight on one hand next to her thigh. He slipped the other around the back of her neck and tilted her head up, stealing a long, slow kiss. He muttered, “I’ll go next week,” against her lips before resuming, tongue gently prodding her bottom lip.
Freyja broke away and glanced up at him through her lashes with a teasing look. “You sure you can last that long without sex?”
“You’re gonna be the death of me.”
Ghost, Soap, and Gaz shipped out to replace the other half of the task force a few days later. They were only gone for two weeks, executing the final excursion to retrieve a stolen weapons cache. König, Roche, and Price had done most of the leg work but decided that the sergeants and lieutenant were better equipped for the situation at hand. 
Johnny’s demolition expertise certainly came in handy this time around.
Still, Simon was sore and aching for the comfort of holding his kids and wife after what felt like the longest two weeks of his life. It was their first time leaving both babies with the other parent since Arthur was born.
Unlike his last time returning from a mission, the house was quiet, which allowed him time to take his boots off at the door and shed his mask. König’s car was parked in their driveway, leading him to believe the operative was spending the night in their guest room. Whether Roach was there too, he didn’t know.
The hall light at the top of the stairs flicked on, and Freyja appeared in a silky nightgown, standing on the last step with a tired smile and messy hair.
Simon stopped at the bottom of the stairs and hummed while his eyes roamed her body with a dopey smile.
“Welcome back,” she whispered, locking her fingers behind his neck to tilt his head back, giving him access to slot their lips together. Freyja moaned quietly at the firm hands on her hips and thighs, gripping and digging into the soft flesh. “How’d it go?”
He shrugged and pressed another chaste kiss to her lips, humming against them. “No snags. Soap got to blow stuff up.” Simon’s mouth trailed down her jaw, throat, and chest, gentle and loving.
Her fingertips brushed a gash on his cheek. Most likely from shrapnel, if its depth and jagged edges were any indicators.
“M’fine, love.”
“Joanie’s out cold, but Artie’s awake if you wanna see him. I just finished feeding him.”
That woke him up a little bit. A soft breath of air tickled the wet spots on Freyja’s skin from his silent chuckle. Simon’s arms wrapped around her waist, and he nuzzled his face in her chest as he soaked in her presence. They’d gone more extended periods without seeing each other, but whether they were apart for a week or a few months, he still missed her like crazy.
“She doing better in her room?”
“Much. She’s having some nightmares but goes back down eventually. She’s having a good night.”
“Mmm, in that case, I won’t wake her. We can surprise her in the mornin’.”
When Freyja turned to lead him upstairs, he couldn’t help himself as his hand swung up and connected with her ass, a sharp CRACK! resonating through the air.
“Simon!”
“M’sorry, couldn’t help it. You left yourself wide open on that one,” he teased, his voice low to not wake their daughter or guests. As expected, Arthur’s quiet coos reached his ears the closer they got to their bedroom. Simon dropped his gear by their bedroom door and approached the bassinet on Freyja’s side of the bed. The little boy stared in his general direction, wiggling like a (precious) worm.
The man beamed down at him and carefully slid his hands under Artie’s back with his thumbs hooked under the infant’s arms, lifting him out of the crib. “Hi, beautiful boy,” he mumbled, pressing his pursed lips against his cheek, leaving multiple kisses in the same spot. He held his son back out for a moment, a confused expression on his face once he pulled away.
“Where’d it go?”
Freyja shifted to her knees on their bed and rested her chin on his shoulder, peering down at their son. “What?”
“The baby scrunch.”
“Huh. You’re right. I didn’t even notice.”
“I just…last time I held him, he still curled up. I missed it,” he said, a grown man literally pouting.
“I know…” She let her hands slide down from his shoulders to his chest. “I’m sorry, Si. I know it sucks. Being away comes with the job, and that means we miss things. We’ve been lucky so far with Joanie, honestly.”
Arthur had quieted down, sucking his pacifier as he studied Simon’s painted face and clinging to his shirt.
A knock at the doorframe caught their attention, and all three turned to the source. König rubbed the sleep from his eyes, bare feet padding across the carpet until he reached them. “Hello, Lieutenant. Did the operation bode well?”
“Yeah, everything was just as you said it – was…”
The baby had started to whine again and let go of his dad, reaching for his uncle with grabby hands. The man’s face flushed, but he didn’t make a move to take the baby. Once the shock wore off, Simon took the initiative to hand Art off, and König gladly received him.
He immediately settled again, laying his head back in the crook of König’s elbow, humming softly against his pacifier. “Hallo, welpe,” he said in a hushed tone, rocking his nephew gently.
“Well, that’s new,” Simon grumbled, sitting on the edge of the bed to avoid awkwardly standing there. Simon wasn’t too annoyed, but he was somewhat sad. He had missed his babies dearly and looked forward to some serious attention. But his usually shy baby, who never wanted to be handed off to anyone besides his mother and occasionally Simon, was suddenly choosing their friend over him.
How much had he missed in such a short amount of time?
“I apologize, sir. I am as surprised as you are. He’s a good boy; I think we have been around so much the last two weeks…”
“König.”
“Ja?”
“Drop the sir. We’re not on base. I’m not mad.”
König blinked at him, confused. “It’s… Scheiße, wie sagt man ‘gebräuchlich’ auf Englisch? Ich weiß es nicht. It is normal to use sir where I’m from.”
Simon glared back. “And this is my house. You’ve done as my wife has said to gain my son’s affection. So now, you will do what I say to get back in my good graces after robbing me of my child. Are we clear?”
“I feel…bad. Please, take him back–”
He shook his head and stood again, scratching at the light stubble that had formed on his cheeks over the last few days. “And I’m telling you, no. It’s fine. I have to shower anyway.”
“Alles klar.”
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gyll-yee-haw · 7 months ago
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Can you write Jake's girl wearing lingerie for the first time? Maybe she insecure since she's never worn it before but he's just in awe
Yesss, that's so sweet, baby, great idea! <3
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Warnings: insecurity, Jake is a certified simp, masturbation (m)
Like 1.5k words
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You kept toying with the fabric of your dress all night. As soft as it was, it felt like an armor protecting what you were hiding underneath it.
You felt silly. Jake had seen you naked a million times... but this felt different.
You had no idea what got into you when you decided to buy that lingerie set. Maybe you were feeling brave... oh how you wish you could reconnect with that feeling now!
It's not that you didn't trust Jake with your entire soul. You knew he loved and worshipped your body. But he had never seen you wearing something like this... you were afraid he would find it ridiculous. You were afraid he would laugh. You were afraid this wasn't for you.
You cursed yourself a million times, because it wasn't even cheap.
Now you felt trapped like an animal. You had nowhere to run... you were at his place, watching tv after dinner and his touch was getting a little too intimate.
You wanted him, don't get me wrong. But if he removed your dress, he would see it.
Your eyes analyzed the area, as if looking for escape as he kissed your neck. Maybe you could go to the bathroom and take it off? But where would you hide it?
Your overthinking was visible... your body just wasn't melting for him like it usually does...
"Baby, are you okay?" He asked, startling you a bit. "Do you need anything?"
"No, I'm fine." Your voice came out a little more high pitched than you intended.
You cursed yourself again. That was the right moment to go get rid of all that in the bathroom.
"You can tell me, angel." He assured you, knowing damn well you were lying.
You just shook your head. He wasn't going to insist. All he did was kiss the top of your head and wrap an arm around you, keeping you close as his eyes went back to the tv.
'What a fucking coward' you thought.
Now he just thought you didn't want him. Or worse... thought you were hiding something. Well, weren't you? Yeah, but it was harmless. If it was harmless, why were you so afraid?
"Can I ask you something?" You finally broke the silence.
"Anything, baby." He was disguising how much his curiosity was killing him.
"What do you think about... hm... lingerie?" Your fingers started playing with the fabric of your dress again.
"I think it doesn't suit me much." He shrugged. "It's quite uncomfortable."
You looked at him with raised eyebrows for a second, before both of you bursted into laughter.
"Oh okay, that's a shame." You rolled your eyes.
You were glad he decided to joke about it. Made it feel like the situation was less serious. Made it feel less scary.
"But..." He was still smiling, but his tone was a little more serious now. "I would love to see it on you."
"You think so?" Your eyes lightened up a bit.
"Yeah, definitely." He seemed to daydream about it for a second. "Fuck, I really want to now... I... I had never thought about it because I usually prefer when you wear nothing, you know? But... I think it would drive me crazy, baby."
"Really?" You smiled, feeling a little more brave. "I thought it was a bit ridiculous."
"Ridiculous?" He frowned. "Come on..."
He stood up quickly.
"Where are you going?" You looked at him while he searched for something.
"We're gonna go buy you some lingerie, my love. Need to see it right now." He explained.
"Jake..." Your stomach dropped. You didn't expect that idea would have such... impact on him. "We don't have to."
"No, but it's something we want, right? I mean, you brought it up, so I thought..."
"Jake." You interrupted him, standing up beside him. "I mean we don't have to. I... I got a set the other day."
"You did?" He looked like a kid being allowed McDonald's on the way home. "It's... at your house? Will you let me see it someday?"
"It's not at my house." You smirked. You knew what he was trying to ask.
"Baby, were you wearing it THIS WHOLE TIME?" He asked dramatically. "While I was right there innocently cooking dinner... you were depriving me of this heavenly sight..."
"Oh poor Jacob." You rolled your eyes.
"Come on, why am I still not seeing it?" He insisted.
"Well, I..." You explained. "I guess I'm a bit nervous. I never wore anything like this."
"Nervous?" He seemed taken aback by that. "I understand, baby. You know... you really don't have to be nervous, but you can show me when you're comfortable, okay? Doesn't have to be tonight."
"Oh, what a wonderful understanding boyfriend I have." You chuckled. "It doesn't have to be tonight?"
"It doesn't..." He looked at you like he would be able to see under your dress if he tried hard enough.
"Hm..." You smiled at him. "Thanks, baby."
He smiled back, a bit nervously. He wasn't sure if you were teasing him... he was afraid to insist and end up making you do something you weren't ready for. On the other hand... if he just gave up, it would look like he wasn't interested. And God, he was.
The way he was looking at you... pure desire in his eyes. You could see his imagination was taking him somewhere far away, even though all he wanted was right there. And that turned you on. Feeling so desired turned you on. Feeling so safe. It was obvious he wouldn't laugh.
"I think you're such a good and understanding boyfriend... you deserve a reward." You bit your bottom lip.
"I do?" He smiled widely. He loved seeing you that confident.
You nodded and turned around, walking towards the bedroom. You didn't have to say a word, he followed you immediately. As soon as you got there, he had you pinned against the wall, hand gently caressing your face.
"Will you put a show for me, pretty girl?" He asked in a lustful tone. "Show me how beautiful you look in your lingerie, huh?"
You nodded, feeling your body start to heat up. He sat on the bed right in front of you and started unzipping his pants. You couldn't believe he got hard just from that talk. He pulled his cock out and started stroking it slowly, the look on his face encouraging you.
So you did it. You let your dress fall on the floor. It took a few seconds and a deep breath for your eyes to be able to meet his again. And there you met the fire you saw when he got to see you naked for the first time... maybe even more feral.
"Fuck, baby..." His hand movements speeding up. "You're such a pretty thing, aren't you? Come closer..."
You stood now between his legs. His free hand traced the fabric of your lingerie gently, like it was the most precious thing in the world.
"Oh, princess..." He moaned, stroking himself faster and faster. "I can't believe how fucking beautiful you are... we'll have such a long night, you and me..."
You smiled, leaning down to kiss him. He never stopped stroking himself as you started making out passionately. When his moans indicated he was close, you took a step back.
"You gonna cum for me?" You asked, getting on your knees in front of him. "Just from looking at me? Am I that pretty, baby?"
"Fuck... Y/N... you have no idea..." He struggled to speak.
"Did I put on a good show for you?" You stroked his thighs, watching him nod. "Then give me your cum, baby, all of it..."
You barely had time to open your mouth before he shot his load on your face. You collected it all with your fingers, licking it seductively, eye contact intense as he tried to catch his breath.
"Fuck, angel, come here..." He gestured for you to get on the bed. "Wanna take some pictures of you..."
"What? No, Jake!" You laughed, covering your face.
"Come on, baby... it's just us... I wanna be able to remember this forever..." He insisted.
"You're so dramatic..." You sighed. "It doesn't have to be the last time you'll see me in these."
"Oh, baby..." He chuckled. "It will definitely NOT be the last time I see you in these. In fact, I'll buy you so many others... what color do you like, honey? Fuck that, I'll get you one of each..."
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bettyfrommars · 1 year ago
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Welcome to The Nightmare Factory
an Eddie Munson x Reader collection of stories
Eddie got certified to work a position at the Nightmare Factory for their benefits package, and he figured it would be the easiest gig he ever landed. But his first job as a Sleep Paralysis Demon does not go as planned, and he develops a crush on Reader that he can't seem to shake. He wants to ask you out---or something normal like that---but he can only communicate with you through your Nightmares.
18+ONLY
Sleep Paralysis Demon Eddie
Haunted Clown Doll Eddie
Haunted Clown Eddie art
Poltergeist Eddie
Nightmare Guide Eddie
Nightmare Factory: Origins
Headless Horseman Eddie
Work Party
The Fabric of Moonbeams
Blurb 1 Blurb 2 Blurb 3 Blurb 4
Request 1 Request 2
Nightmare Steve
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daryl-fucking-dixon · 9 months ago
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theres no better way to break in a new blog then posting NSFW ABCs that absolutely nobody asked for
listen to be honest with y'all I have a crazy sex drive and if I'm in the apocalypse with DARYL DIXON, then um! you better believe I want dick 25/8 (AND BEST BELIEVE ILL GET IT)
im really doing this because its almost like I'm decluttering my brain
CREDITS CREDITS CREDITSS!
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) ☆- We all know Daryl would clean you up and comfort you after sex, he's not the type to fuck and dump.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) ☆- I just feel like Daryl is a major tit guy. He loves them all. Small, big, saggy, he does not care. If it can fit in his hand and his mouth then there's not a single complaint.
☆- Daryl favors his arms, and he feels like a big strong man when you latch onto his bicep.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) ☆- Like I said once, and will be saying for the rest of my life, Daryl Dixon would love to creampie you.
☆- Facials?? He wants to cum all over your face and then fuck you missionary so he can watch the way his release runs down in your mouth and on your cheeks.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) ☆- Daryl Dixon's dirty little secret is that he keeps a pair of your underwear to jerk off with when he goes on long runs. (The longer you wore them for the absolute better)
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) ☆- Before the world ended Daryl didn't exactly have much sex, only a few hook-ups that happened in dark alleys when he was blasted on hard drugs.
☆- Season 1-4 Daryl would be completely lost. A total clutz when he's ripping your shirt off with trembling hands and very sloppily moving his lips against yours, eager yet needy.
☆- Season 5-11 Daryl wouldn't be as clueless after getting older, taking your shirt off first before pulling you closer by the waist, kissing you slowly and much more coordinated.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
☆- Cowgirl. Ride him to your hearts content. He loves loves loves being underneath you, moaning and whimpering as you bounce on his cock.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
☆- He's too gone in pleasure to be funny or sexy
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) ☆- Daryl is definitely hairy, but not too crazy. He's got a dark happy trail leading into thick pubes that rest rest above his base.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
☆- It depends on how clingy Daryl is and how stimulated he is. He likes to wrap his arms around you and bury his face into your neck so he can mark the skin.
☆- Some nights are filled with pure lovemaking, Daryl panting needily against you as he moans in your ear.
"Love ya so fuckin' much, so glad yer mine"
"Prettiest girl I ever seen, wanna make ya feel good"
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
☆- On those nights when he goes on long runs, all by himself with nothing but the song of nature around him, his head fills with all the memories of the softness of your body, inside and out.
☆- He often finds himself holding the fabric of your underwear against his face, whimpering into them as he twist his wrist and tease his tip, thinking about how badly he wanted to be buried deep inside your warm heat.
☆- Once just isn't enough for him. He'll stroke himself completely empty to the thought of you. The sounds of his very needy moans and wet drag of his cum-coated hand overrode the sound of nature.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
☆- DARYL DIXON CERTIFIED BREEDING KINK.
☆- Daryl also has a choking kink that works both ways.
☆- He loves to grip your throat from behind and watch how your face contorts with every thrust, listening to your breathless and choked-off moans.
☆- He also loves to watch the way you bounce on his cock, steadying yourself with your hands tightly around his neck, riding him desperately for your own pleasure.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
☆- Everywhere. If he can put your back against it, he can fuck you against it.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
☆- You. No matter what you do, just once long glance and Daryl goes weak in his knees, biting his lips as his cock stirs.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
☆- Don't clown me but threesome. Daryl Dixon does not like to share his woman, friend or foe. He wants no other man to lay his hands, eyes, or dick on you.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
☆- We all know that Daryl loves to eat pussy. Not matter how long or how many times he's done it, he will not get tired of the taste of you on his tongue and lingering in his mouth afterwards.
☆- He also loves getting head from you. The way you swirl your tongue around his tip and suck it drives his eyes into the back of his skull, a deep groan coming from his chest. Daryl is honestly an oral lover.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
☆- A pretty good combination of both. Depending on the mood, the night starts sensually with lots of eager kisses and roaming hands, Daryl's hips sloppily and lazily thrusting into you at first.
☆- When eager kisses become slow and deep, that's when lazy thrusts become quick and controlled, his cock sliding deeper into your velvety walls. Sometimes Daryl gets so wrapped up in how good he feels, he can't help how fast his hips start to snap against you.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
☆- Only if it's absolutely safe. The first quickie you two ever had was horrifically cut short by a random walker almost biting the bare flesh of Daryl's neck, mid-orgasm at that!
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
☆- He'd be iffy about a few things depending on what they are. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you in bed, but he also never wants to deny you of what you want. (I have no fucking clue what this letter means guys)
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
☆- On the nights where Daryl just needs to not think, he can go for as many rounds as his body can physically handle. He can last for a while during the first round, but it's after the second and third when he starts to struggle. He needily fucks the both of you completely stupid, only being done when a harsh dry orgasm rocks his entire world, gasping and sobbing against you.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
☆- When Daryl finds your vibrator hidden behind your pillow, he gets a little curious and tries it on himself, sitting on the bed and taking his cock out, stroking himself a few times before clicking the button, feeling the toy buzz to life.
☆- He bites his lip rough when he presses it to his tip, a loud, choked whimper ripping from his throat.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
☆- Daryl only teases you when you tease him. The way you not so innocently bat your lashes at him and firmly grip his bicep gets him riled up for the day and gets you in a world of trouble for the night.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
☆- Daryl is typically a quiet guy, but he can get pretty loud in bed. A lot of the times he muffles any moans or whimpers into the soft skin of your shoulder.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
☆- Talked about this with one of my mutuals but I think Daryl would be a little bit into knifeplay. Nothing major, he just finds it really hot your life is quite literally in his hands.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
☆- Daryl definitely has a curved dick. It's a good solid eight inches and he's pretty thick. Circumcised as well.
☆- There's a long vein that runs along the underside, and a few more that become more prominent when he's hard.
☆- His tip is a cherry red and quite sensitive due to nerve damage. (from said circumcise)
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
☆- Daryl used to barely think about sex, especially in the apocalypse. He'd still jerk off every so often, but not really that often. Only when he had nothing else to do, or really needed to stop thinking, which meant he was gonna jerk off for quite a while.
☆- His sex drive went through the roof after he met you, he simply couldn't get enough. It had only taken a few times before he was completely addicted to your body, and craved it each time he was away. he jerks off much more and much longer now
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
☆- It depends how many times he came. Sometimes he'll literally pass out right on top of you, still inside you.
☆- Most nights however he usually has enough strength to clean you up, and crawl into bed next to you, pulling you closer to his sturdy chest with his arms securely wrapped around you.
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