#I love irish spring soap

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[seiwas]

What would iwa smell like selsel??????

like the love of my life

[where1endandyoubeg1n]

scan a bar of soap >:)

ok @shingetsu-online!

[mushies-stories]

Showering with TF141 for the first time headcanons

TF141Xreader

Warnings: little suggestive, 18+

John Price

Showering with John the first time made you feel like you had been doing it wrong your whole life. 

He has separate shampoo, conditioner and body wash. None of it smells too strong but over is a more masculine scent. He even suggested that maybe you bring some of your own shower supplies over to keep at his place.

He let you take up most of the warm water, the selfless and generous man he is. ^v^

Pampers you. John washes your hair and body without question. 

Thinks grooming each other is not only romantic but also is a strong form of bonding and closeness. He craves your attention and presence and showering together is perfect for that.

He uses a loofah to scrub your body, standing a little closer while he washes your back. His hands are firm but gentle as they caress your body and lather it in soapy suds. 

You lean with your head and back to his chest while his hands massage over your breasts and stomach. Teasing you just a little, fingers grazing along your nipples a little too much as he presses you closer against him. 

When his hand dips between your thighs and he runs his fingers between your folds you can’t contain the little moan you let out. He smiles into the crook of your neck and does it again and chuckles when your back arches, pressing your ass against him.

“Feel good love?” he teases. his hand abandoned your heat to rinse the rest of the soap off your body. With little sighs of protest from you. 

When he washes your hair, his hands are too gentle and so delicate that you could hardly believe they could ever be used for violence. He takes care not to snag any tangles and works them out with his fingers. Your eyes flutter shut when he starts to massage your scalp.

He makes sure not to get the soap in your eyes.

Is more than delighted when you take to washing him as well. Smiles and hands over the loofah. 

Maybe it's just me.. But… I imagine John standing in front of you with your back against the cold shower wall, his arms caging you in while you trail the loofah along his skin. 

It actually takes everything in him not to get to hard and fuck you. He had time for that later. Once you finally moved in he couldn't see a reason why he couldn't shower with you every chance he could get. 

Lets you use his bathrobe and laughs at how big it was on you. Make a mental note to buy you one of your own in your favorite color, but fluffier. 

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

At first Simon wasn’t sure if showering together would be that good of an idea. He already took up a lot of space. When you finally convinced him and managed to actually fit you both in he was a little surprised. 

You fit but he didn't get as much of the water, otherwise he would take it all.

To your horror Simon uses a 2in1 shampoo and conditioner BUT he does have separate body wash. 

Nothing too extreme or strong for scent. Body Wash is like  irish spring or something but even lighter.

He was going to just take care of himself real fast then focus on you but you stopped him, hand on his arm and reaching for the bodywash yourself. You ask him with those sweet eyes of yours if you can help. He nods silently and lets you do as you please. 

The only thing he has is a sad looking rag so you opt to just use your hands, rubbing the soap over his chest and shoulders, making him turn around so you can reach his back. 

(if you are brave and so desire, you may try and cop a feel, go ahead. Just be ready to get your wrist snatched as he whips back around with a glare.)

But overall he enjoys the attention, it's soothing and relaxing and he's groaning when you wash his hair. Your fingers raking across his scalp helps his mind slow down a little.  

Insists on repaying the favor, being as nice and gentle as you were, caressing your body in his large hands. He had an easier time washing your body than you did his, making sure to reach every little crevasse of your body.

He's tried really hard to be gentle with your hair. He doesn't want to pull on any tangles and ultimately fails. But he kisses your head every time he snagged his fingers in your hair.

“Sorry lovie… not meanin’ta tug so much.” he mumbles an apology. 

Simon decided he didn’t really mind showering together, you actually made it a much more enjoyable process, not just something for necessity. 

After the shower he gives you one of his white shirts that covers just below your ass to lounge in, just to see your still damp body through the thin fabric. 

John 'Soap' MacTavish

Johnny was the one who dragged you into the shower with him with one clear goal. To make you smell like him before you go out with your friends, he had to get up early and decided to stay home.

Only problem.. Mans uses 3in1… granted its extra scented and you won't be able to mistake it was meant for men. But still, your cringe at the thought of using it. Even though you complain the whole time he’s lathering your body up and chuckles at you. 

He doesn't even have a rag, just a true dude really, roughing it in the shower. Just uses his rough calloused hands that sends chills down your spine instead.

Is handsy, can't stop himself from groping your breasts and lingering a little too long between your thighs. Even nipping and kissing your shoulder once he washed your body off. 

You have to bat his hands away to make sure you're not late, knowing you still have to get ready. 

“M’sorry dove, just so pretty and naked for me.” he groans into your ear, holding your back to his chest, hands cupping your breasts. “Sure ya gotta go? Can't just stay’er with me?” he pleads with you. 

You firmly, while giggling from his kisses on your neck, tell him you can't.

When he washes your hair he puts a little too much in and you have to squeeze your eyes shut and rely on Johnny to help you to the water. Teases you when you cling to him in your blinded state.

Honestly he wanted to ask you to wash him too but he knew you were running late so he did it himself quickly so you could get ready. 

Overall you don't mind his playfulness or his touchiness, with more time you would even indulge in it, but with better shower supplies. 

Drapes the towel over your shoulders and wraps you in his arms to keep you warm from the cold air.

good thing you at least had your makeup and outfit with.

You promise to buy a few new things for him, so you feel better about showering at his place. Then you'll make sure to give him the same treatment, with much more time. 

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Kyle, like John, has separate products. The scent of his body wash is stronger but with a... spicy?? under-tone to it.

Showering with him is a little slow, and lazy. He normally likes to shower right when he gets up and this time you just happen to join him, wanting to spend as much time with him before he leaves for the day. Not like he was complaining.

Keeps you close so you both can enjoy as much of the warm water as possible. Holds you to his chest most of the time  

Goes to wash himself before you stop him and take the body wash from him with a small smile. His heart flutters when you softly ask if you could help, which he responds to with a tired smile and a nod.

He lets himself relax, enjoying your hands lathering his body in suds. You were gentle and a little hesitant at first but soon gained full confidence when he handed you the shampoo and asked you to wash his hair too. 

You do so happily. You scratch and massage his scalp, making him groan with delight as the relaxing sensation. 

Before you even think of washing yourself, he's doing the exact same thing and stealing the bodywash, telling you it was his turn.

He’s respectful, only gripping onto your hips a little and cupping your breasts for only a moment. He has work and can't give you the attention you deserve. 

But that doesn't stop him too much, still not able to resist grabbing your ass and pulling you in for a lazy kiss.

When he washes your hair, he practically has you falling back asleep while you lean against him. He decided he could just eat on his way to base, making sure you were clean and happy was currently his top priority now.

Takes a moment to hold you under the showerhead, relishing in the warm water and you against him before reluctantly turning the water off.

He only has towels, but they're big and cover most of your body.

While he dresses, you crawl back in bed. Naked and clean. Kyle smirks and tells you that you better be right there, just like that when he gets home tonight. And you happily obliged. 

“Just like that, got it? Want ya naked and ready yeah.” He instructs with a glint in his eye.

[ooffmlsorry]

OP Men Dating a "Girly Girl"

A/N: sorry this took so long and I haven't posted anything original in a minute my life is mess and I'm so very tired jfc...I know this isn't more than my usual group but I was just gonna stop at Luffy and then decided to add Ace and Sabo as a thank you because writing these and putting them on Tumblr has been really good for me, so thank you for always being here to indulge me 🥲 ❤️

Sanji, Zoro, Law, Luffy, Ace, Sabo

Sanji

Let's be honest, girly-girls drive Sanji craaaazzzzyy (not that all women don't, but he's definitely more partial to the feminine ones) Your make-up, pretty skirts and dresses, jewelry, and manicure, he can't help fawn over you constantly 😍Although you do it because you enjoy it, it's nice that your efforts are so appreciated!!

He spoils you soooo baaaddd!! He literally can't help himself when he sees something pretty or cute that reminds him of you, he has to get it for you. You're drowning in squishmallows at this point.

A river of blood shoots from him every time you show off a new outfit. You're going to kill him and he'll thank you for it.

Dressing up in nice outfits together, especially on date night, is a shared activity that you love to do together. Y'all are living your best happily ever after lives.

Ya'll definitely have scheduled self-care nights. You put on some slow music, open a bottle of wine, draw a bubble bath, all that.

He's utterly useless when it comes to helping you pick your outfits or makeup if you're stuck because he loves you in everything, it's too hard for him to pick. You're his perfect, beautiful Y/N-swaaaaan 😍💖💖✨

He does love to see you in pink or red though so he might default to those colors

Don't try to test your makeup on him lol, you're going to re-awaken the gender identity crisis...I mean Kamabakka trauma

Listen...I'm not saying Sanji has a mommy kink...I'm not even at Whole Cake Island so idk wtf is going on there. All I'm saying is if you give this man a bath, wrap him in a towel to dry him off, and rub him down with luxurious lotions and oils, you might awaken something...that's all...👀

ZORO

He has no clue wtf you're doing. If it weren't for the fact that there's no proof that witches exist in this world, he'd think you are one

He looks at your vanity full of serums, creams, scrubs, lotions, etc, not to mention the makeup and he's like "??????" Just completely baffled

But what do you expect? This man would use that five-in-one Irish Spring soap if he could.

Just because he doesn't understand it doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate and admire the fact that you have extensive knowledge in something he can't even comprehend

He knows you like nice shiny things, and again, while he doesn't get it, he does think it's really, really cute when you go starry-eyed over a necklace or an outfit in a store.

In the same vein, he knows how much you love cute things and animals. He has absolutely found a cute animal in the jungle, picked it up, and brought it to you just to show you because he knew you'd love it.

Sometimes in his own gruff way he'll agree with you that it's pretty cute. Thank you for helping this manly man admit things are cute and that's okay.

Other times, he's the one making sure you don't get distracted because it's so cute

Unfortunately and fortunately, you're pretty to him no matter what you do to yourself so it's all kind of a moot point to him.

You can try to ask him about which 'x' to wear, sometimes it's helpful because he'll throw out a really practical answer and then other times he's like "How 'bout you just go naked" 😏.

He'll wear a face mask with you like...twice a year. And he's going to bitch and moan about it but he does it because he loves you. The entire process is like trying to give a cat a bath "WHY IS IT SO COLD? THIS STAYS ON MY FACE FOR HOW LONG???"

Exfoliate this man at your own risk...I'm dead serious that water is going to be brown

LAW

I need you to know right now this man will let you paint his nails!!! I mean, not like gel or acrylics or anything, but he'll let you paint them any color as long as it's a dark shade of that color. You once designed Bepo on his middle fingers. He did in fact flip people off a lot more often when he had them.

Let's you wear a pastel boiler suit because you he loves you and wants to see you happy

Much like Zoro, he's got no clue what you're doing. He'll stand back and watch you while making the exact same face as the gif above.

He thinks he's being stealthy peaking around a corner to watch your morning or night routine, but you quickly catch on. Please please pleeaaassee ask him if he has any questions because he does. He's just really curious why you're doing what you're doing and what it does. It's basically skin medicine and he's really fascinated.

Knowing that you like shiny things makes his life admittedly a little easier, it's not that he doesn't think of what to gift you, he puts A LOT of thought into what he gives you, but knowing that earrings, necklaces, and bracelets always make you happy is great just in case of analysis paralysis or he forgets. Sorry.

Also you wearing the jewelry he gets you does something to him, especially a necklace he can pull on a little, mmhhm you're making this man struggle with impure thoughts.

You both love cute things, it's something y'all connect on. It's really good that you help him access that very neglected inner child of his and encourage him to coo and fawn over adorable animals with zero reservation.

He'll do skincare with you too when he's not super busy. He can admit it's kind of nice to sit in bed with a book, glass of wine, and a face mask and just bask for a minute

He acts like he hates when you rub serums across his face and use a derma roller on him but he loves it

Law doesn't really pay attention to your clothes, but when you really go all out he breaks out in a sweat and he can't keep his eyes off you.

LUFFY

I'm not saying he thinks it's stupid, it just...why have an hours long care routine when you could be going on adventure with him??? 😭😭😭

He will help you pick out your makeup but don't expect it to look good. You're gonna end up with neon orange eyeshadow and green lipstick. Like literally every "My Boyfriend Does My Makeup" youtube video.

Plays around with your stuff but that's because he has no idea what all these strange contraptions are. The moment you try to explain his eyes glaze over and next thing you know he's whisking you away to go do something more fun.

He likes the shiny bright stuff (highlighter), makeup probably is the only part he even remotely engages in because it's

Explain how contour works to this man and watch him lose his fucking mind, he thinks you're a shape shifter now (honestly this applies to all of them except Law and maybe Sanji)

He never notices what you wear, Nami is gonna have smack him on the back of the head to get him to realize you put on something fancy

Luffy points out everything, it just so happens that things he points out sometime happen to be cute animals

Hides in all the stuffed animals and squishmallows in your room to surprise attack hug you

*throws mud at you* "Is this the kind of mud you like, Y/N??" He really means well though.

You know those hair masks with all natural ingredients like honey and banana? Yeah, he's gonna start sucking on your hair like spaghetti...I'm so sorry.

He'll bathe with you but that's because he wants to be close to you, it's definitely not about being pampered or relaxing.

Try to put a face mask on him or something else and it'll just become a game of tag around the Sunny. You can't catch him and he's having a great time outrunning and outwitting you.

He knows this is all important to you so even though he doesn't get it he'd never make fun of you for it and the moment someone calls you "extra," he's kicking their ass.

ACE

Maybe all the glam is a little silly to him but that just makes you extra cute!

He will also absolutely let you paint his nails. Hell, he'll let you do a full beat on him just for fun and he'll wear it for the whole day because he's so unserious lol

...As long as he gets to do your makeup after...Much like Luffy you're gonna be covered in neon colors that don't even remotely match, but you guys have a great time lol

Admittedly likes to be pampered by you when he gets back from a long mission.

Please take a bubble bath with this man, it's not like the water is ever going to get cold!

I'm pretty sure you'd legitimately lead to Ace taking better care of himself. Got this man out here talking about his cuticles and shit lol

Honestly, it's really good for him because self care leads to self love and Ace needs a lot of help with that.

He tells Pops about all the stuff you do 1.) because he loves you and 2.) he hopes some of it will help Whitebeard heal a little, god bless him 😢

All of your hardwork doesn't go unnoticed, he legitimately gets kind of misty eyed when you really dress up because he's so so so lucky. He swears he doesn't deserve you.

He always brings back some kind of gift even whether it's a cute plushie or something exotic to wear from all of his long travels

I need to stress how much this means to him, everyone of these things is like a little proposal because he already knows you're it. Every little gift is leading up to a ring from this man.

He's also just genuinely impressed by the skill it takes to do your makeup so well, especially after he tries doing it on you

Much like his little brother unfortunately, he does play with all the little contraptions in your vanity, especially in the beginning because have you seen an eyelash curler? He's so confused lol

SABO

Sabo and Ace truly are his brothers because he really don't get all the effort lol

Admittedly, a lot of that is because he thinks you're so hot already what's the point???

Once he gets this is just how you are he's less confused, he's probably the most normal out everyone. He lets you do your thing, although he's really curious how you managed to always look amazing while being in the fucking revolutionary army!!?? Where are you getting the time???

If someone were to intrude on y'all on a free afternoon you're both in fluffy robes with face masks on and Sabo loves to pretend to act like a bitch when he's in selfcare mode with you lol

"Are you seriously bothering us right now, ugh! I can't even right now!!" And then you both break out in laughter

He really thinks you should teach others how to contour and do makeup because it has great applications for disguises and infiltration.

And brags about your skills to everyone

Wonders how many of your makeup supplies could actively be used as a weapon *eye roll* jfc Sabo

There's a part of you that secretly worries all your boujieness will remind him of his blood relatives, but he assures you that it doesn't because you have a good heart and he never doubts that

Besides, being a little extra with him helps him associate those things he used to associate with his blood relatives with you instead so it's even better

He spoils you so bad, but with a Sabo-flair, ie. stealing from shitty people and bringing it back to you because you're oh so more deserving of nice things let's be honest

He gets jealous of the cute animals that you squeal over hehehe, please hug him when he starts pouting

He'll always wear a little pink just for you ❤️

[lightless-flame-official]

gerry keay (classic flavor):

skinny. not in a way most people notice off the bat, because he's quite tall and very good at looking big, but leitner hunting burns a lot of calories and he's been chronically underfed for most of his life

eye tattoos on each of his joints, placed there by supernatural means as a protective ward against other powers

his hair always looks like shit for several reasons, including but not limited to:

- he doesn't like to dye it when his mother is around, both because of the vulnerability of the position and because he doesn't like to be Perceived by her while doing anything he actually. ya know. enjoys. this means that it has a lot of time to fade and his roots grow out.

- if she's around too often for a stretch of time, he has to find a local business he hasn't already been banned from and rinse it out in one of their sinks. this leaves it looking understandably patchy and rushed.

- the dye he uses is cheap as hell -- having his own money is an occasional luxury which cannot be taken for granted.

- he just. generally doesn't take care of himself and his hair suffers overall as a result. he doesn't shower often enough and when he does he uses precisely one (1) type of soap. and it's like. if they have irish springs bar soaps in england then it's that and if they don't then it's the closest equivalent.

he isn't actually like. goth. as we would think of it.

black clothes don't show bloodstains and they made him feel safe edgy and dangerous as a teenager.

we're talking thrift store jeans purchased when he was 16 an never replaced. maybe some band tees. boots for marching into a den of hunt avatars.

the leather jacket is also secondhand and while yes he does feel very badass and cool in it it's also a practical piece. good for fighting. especially when the people you're fighting might have claws or want to set you on fire.

sewing needle piercings with visible scarring around them.

he just generally looks. kinda sick all the time? again, not something that usually registers because he's also good at being intimidating but if you're looking for it there's all kinds of evidence of chronic sleep deprivation and malnutrition. he looks unhealthy, concerning.

gerry keay (tmagp):

goth. like, real goth. like buying from thrift stores still but more often and having fun with it now.

we're talking fishnets. we're talking eyeliner. we're talking black lipstick. we're talking absurd and impractical jewelry. we're talking dabbles in lacy skirts and definitely owns a corset. and yes he still wears a leather jacket but exclusively because it feels cool and badass. he's goth babey!

no longer skinny. precise body type is whatever your heart tells you is true but three square meals agree with him and he's gained a very noticeable amount of weight.

the hair dye is still not professional, his roots grow in occasionally and it's still a bit patchy, because he's still doing it at home, but also. he's doing it at home. it's fun, and he has fun with it. the dye is better quality. gertrude helps him with touchups. black is still a favorite but he's dabbled in other colors, dark purples and greens and blues.

loves to be covered in stuff. when he's baking, he will intentionally smear flour on his black pants and make it look accidental, and when he paints he doesn't wash his hands. this is partially so he can see the evidence himself, and partially because he wants people to notice it and ask. he wants to say, "oops, i was baking earlier, i must've wiped my hands on my pants."

he still has shitty irresponsible piercings from when he was a teenager. the more recent ones are more professional.

his tattoos are pretty and useless. he designed most of them himself.

there's color in his face. sleeping gets a little easier every night.

[evanpeterspeter]

Kinktober day 2

Alex (Adult world) - Deep throating - wet dream

Cw: M receiving, wet dream, 5 in one male soap and etc

———————————————————————————

You had stayed over at Alex’s apartment, due to not having anywhere to stay for the night… Well, maybe a few nights, but other than that you had a roof over your head. The night was calm, You and Alex just finished having some cheap Chinese food and you borrowed his shower. Unfortunately, you did have to use his Irish Springs 5-1 soap. (Oh God) After showering you were wearing one of his borrowed band tee’s. “Hey, I hope you don’t mind, if I don’t have a couch,” Alex said while awkwardly rubbing the back of his head. He was shirtless and had some navy blue boxers. You shook your head with a slight giggle. “That’s okay, I could just sleep on the floor.” You shrugged. “NO! No no no. You don’t need to, I can sleep on the floor instead.” “Alex, I don’t mind. You already did me a favor in letting me crash at yours.” You grabbed the blanket you had brought from your old house and placed it on the floor. Alex quickly scooped it up from the floor, and tossed it on the bed, then proceeded to scoop you up over his shoulder and tossed you on the bed. You let out a small yelp and giggled. “Alexxx!” You proclaimed. “Nope, don’t wanna hear nothin’.” He grabbed his blanket and tossed it on the floor next to the bed. “Alex, you don’t have to sleep on the floor. I feel bad.”

“Why feel bad? I offered, even though I tend to run hot in bed.” He said with a wink at the end. You couldn’t help but turn red. “Well, I tend to run cold in bed.” You felt smart with that response, even though that was mid. “Yeah?” Alex shed a smirk as he stood up, towering over you from the side of the bed. You smiled widely as he plopped next to you. “If you say so.” He said as he turned off the bedside lamp. “Again, Thanks for having me over, Alex.” You said pleadingly. “Yeah of course, what kind of manager would I be if I didn’t.” You slapped his arm. “Oh shut up, that’s weirdddd.” You said in a whiny tone. “Oh, you love it,” Alex said while lying down and turning his body away from you. You rolled your eyes with a playful scoff. “Goodnight, work, boss, manager.” You said sarcastically and with a small laugh to it at the end. “Goodnight, Beautiful,” Alex mumbled. You felt your heart fall out of your ass, slightly turned on but flustered by the surprise comment.

The night slowly went by, it had to have been around 3 am, and you and Alex’s limbs were entangled together, you were facing each other, his arms wrapped around your waist, his arm under your body, holding your lower back, and the other on your ass cheek. Your arms were curled to his chest and you had his thigh in between your legs. Your soft and soaked core rested against his bare thigh, grinding against his thigh. You let out some gentle moans in your sleep, which had woken up Alex. Alex woke up kinda groggy at first but immediately realized what was happening. He was becoming very flustered and turned on. He started complying with you, by gently moving his thigh and pulling your hips forward with each grind you made. You let out some louder whimpers, with your mouth agape. Alex couldn’t help but let out some low moans, as he had an aching hard-on.

You continued rocking your hips messily and making sloppy moans, as you felt your core tighten more and more. Alex’s tip was rubbing against the top of your cunt, making moans escape from his lips. “F-fuck..” He whispered. You kept riding until you finally broke your edge, creaming onto his warm thigh as you let out soft whimpers. Your whimpers had woken you up from your wet dream. You heard Alex’s breathing heightened, causing you to shift up to see if he was awake. As you moved to look up, you felt a warm puddle of some sort of fluid you thought, was in your underwear and on his thigh. ‘Oh my God his thigh!’ You screamed in your head. You looked up at him. “A-Alex.. I’m so sorry. I-I don’t know what came out of me but I’m so so sorry.” You started to become embarrassed and turn red. “Hey, it’s okay. You only had a wet dream, love” You felt your heart sink. “I-I what? You’re lying..” You said in disbelief. Alex chuckled. “Yea, you did.” You resulted in covering your face with your hands. “It was cute… Don’t be embarrassed.” You looked up slowly with a flushed face. “Noooo”

“Yeahhhh.” He moved the blanket off of himself, keeping it on you to stay warm. Alex came back with a clean pair of boxers. “Here, these might be more warmer.” You were careful not to sit up completely on the bed so you wouldn’t get any more of your wetness on the sheets. As he crawled back onto the bed you noticed his boner and it was very prominent. You bit your lip, and gently placed the given boxers of his on the side of the bed. As he laid down and was about to grab the blanket, you stopped him. “Alex?” You said innocently. “Yeah?” He said in a very seductive tone. “C-Can… Can I fix it?” Alex tilted his head and had a soft smile on his lips. “Fix what?” You pouted knowing what he was doing. “You know what I mean.” He tilted his head, pretending not to know. “No, I don’t. What do you want to fix? And how will it be fixed?” He said teasing you at this point. You groaned and had an irritated laugh. “Oh my God..” You pulled down his boxers abruptly, causing his cock to spring up. You did not hesitate to kiss the tip of his aching tip, looking up into his eyes. Alex let out a breathy moan and his eyes were fluttering. “F-Fuck.. You can fix anything you want.” You nodded with a big cheeky smile and took his hard cock into your mouth. He was so big and girthy. It even strained your jaw from how thick he was. You started to bob your head up and down, taking his whole length down your throat. You gripped your thumbs on the inside of your palms to prevent gagging. He politely grabbed the back of your head, bunching your hair in a makeshift ponytail, and pushed your head up and down. He let out a mouthful of profanities as he tossed his head to the baseboard of the bed. “Fuck, beautiful. You’re so good at this.” You looked up at him with big doe eyes, which was the final doing to make him cum. “I’m gonna cum.” Alex said as he spurted his hot white ropes into your mouth.

As you pulled away, you swallowed his cum and wiped your mouth. His eyes widened with shock. “Damn, that’s so hot.” You gave an innocent giggle and got up to change into his boxers. You finally made it back to the bed and Alex pulled you into a little spoon position. “Thank you.” He gently spoke. “Anything for my manager.” He rolled his eyes. “Bitch, shut the fuck up.”

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Taglist: @evansonlylove @xrag-dollx @warrenlipkaswife @jazz-berry @am3ricanh0rrorwh0re @fear-is-truth

[archangeldyke-all]

hihi! :) (let’s hope the tumblr gods don’t eat this)

do you have any thoughts about modern sevika tastes? i.e how she dresses, the scents she likes to wear, the music she might like, what her phone case might be like. things like that! :)

- topdrop anon

i have a few, but i would LOVE to hear your guys thoughts in the comments too!!

men and minors dni

she dresses practically: pants with lots of pockets, shoes with steel toes, breathable and easy to wash fabrics. but i think she's got a little fashion sense in her, and she knows how good she looks, so she's always buying her clothes just one size too small so all her muscles are on full display, pulling and tugging at the tight fabric of her clothes.

lots of shades of gray and black. some earthy tones-- olive greens and tans and browns. a few pops of color here and there: her favorite red jacket, the purple beanie she wears in winter.

all her socks are black. but her boxers are the cutsy-est things you've ever seen. prints of little hearts, dogs, kitties, ducks, lolipops; writing over the ass like 'eat me' or 'kiss me'; she keeps most of her attire serious, but her undies are always goofy.

i think her left arm would either be a prosthetic or covered in tattoos. shoulder to fingertips.

she's totally the type of person to drive in silence. or listen to the news. she doesn't really listen to music, but she's got a few jazz vinyls she's always cycling through at home. i think it's mostly instrumental, but she does have a soft spot for some soulful singing (which means she cries when nina simone comes on every. single. time. and can you blame her?)

as much as i want to make her a punk-rocker, i just think she'd find it noisy and annoying hahaha.

her phone case is either clear, or it's super bulky and has a little latch on it so she can latch it to her belt lmaoooo.

she keeps the background photo as the default picture it comes with, until she meets you. (she changes it to a pic of the two of you kissing the SECOND you agree to be her girlfriend. she grins after you say yes, pulls her phone out, and quickly changes her background, whispering, "fuck yes, i've been waiting to get rid of this boring ass wallpaper.")

i don't know how to describe scents, but i picture her smelling fresh, like kinda minty, but in a irish spring way. sandalwood too. but on top of all her soaps and lotions, she wears a really warm scented cologne, like tobacco and brown sugar and whiskey and coconut. like amber-y smelling?

she tries to deny the fact that she's got a sweet tooth. she's always munching on chips or nuts or other salty snacks. but that's just because if she starts on a sugary treat, she won't be able to stop herself until it's all gone.

you find this out after you gift her a pan of brownies for her birthday in the morning, and find that they're gone by lunchtime.

now, you always keep little chocolates and hard candies on you to pass to her when she looks stressed. she always gives you the biggest, happiest eyes you've ever seen, like you've just handed her a check for a million dollars instead of a peanutbutter cup.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

[future-dregs]

Kinktober Day 19 - Scent Kink

Wincest ♡ Teenager Sam Winchester ♡ Pining ♡ Jealousy ♡ Word Count : 1,767

Written for @spnkinkevents

Don't Shower

Sam pillows his head in Dean's lap the minute they're out of the school parking lot.

Dean smells like an auto shop, black grease still ringing his nails. Sam snuffles his hand when Dean scrubs his head and it makes him laugh.

"Quit. Little animal."

Sam pretends to bite at him, snapping his teeth for comedic effect, giggling and diving right back to his spot when Dean shoves him to floor.

Sam has Dean's cardboard box of tapes balanced on his stomach, flicking through albums he knows so well he could sing them in his sleep, when he realizes that Dean is taking an awfully long time to get them home.

"What's up?"

"Nothing."

A pause.

"Dad called. He'll be home soon."

"Oh."

Another pause. Longer.

"Did he sound like he was okay?"

"Yeah. I mean, he was in a hurry, but he said everything went well."

"Did he say what day he'd get here?"

"No. Just, soon." Dean sounds like he feels guilty for being excited.

Well. Sam's glad their dad is okay. He worries when he goes off alone, and Dean's relief is palpable, but "soon" means no more special drives.

No more stretching out to his full and aching length in the front seat while Dean fussed over him and promised to rub his legs when they got home.

And no more resting on Dean, breathing him in.

Years ago John had said Sam was too old for it, and for once, Sam had agreed with him. He was a big kid now, he didnt need to lean on Dean when he got tired, and he didnt like Dean petting his hair anymore.

That was when he was seven.

But now, Sam is sixteen. "Big" seems relative, and things are changing for him in unexpected ways.

So he takes what he can when he can, holding Dean when they're alone. Clutching their time together like the big secret it has to be.

It had started a year ago.

Dean was always more than happy to accomodate his baby brother's affectionate whims, and if Sam had any secret ulterior motives, well, what Dean didnt know wouldn't hurt either of them.

In the back of his mind where his conscience spoke quietly to him, Sam knew that he shouldn't be doing this.

That he should at least tell Dean what was going on. Why Sam so often ended up with his face in his lap or tucked under his arm. The reason behind Sam's recent poor memory when it came to doing laundry, regularly running out of clean clothes and needing to wear Dean's instead.

It was that Dean smelled good.

But in a weird way, one that Sam didn't fully understand. It left him feeling funny, like his organs were shaking.

Because it wasn't the drugstore cologne Dean drenched himself with every Friday night, or the knockoff Irish Spring soap they both used, the aftershave lotion or hair gel.

It was none of the things Dean did to make himself smell appealing, to try and cover up the underlying sour trace of graveyard dirt and poverty that they could never quite scrub away.

It SHOULD have been those things, and it very nearly was. But what Sam had snuffled out, pawing through bedsheets, sweated through shirts, and boxers that had been used for days too long, feeling just like a dog while doing so, was that it was DEAN.

It was his sweat, and the faint traces of gasoline and clove cigarettes that always seemed to cling to his skin.

It was that damn sour smell Sam couldn't wait to leave behind but that made them smell the same and that was the way it should be so he loved it, and it was the heavy scent that rose from between Dean's legs whenever they watched a dirty movie together, or when his eyes followed a pretty girl.

The smell of his armpits and chest after a few days of hard work, long nights, and no shower.

The kind of smell that made Dean pace around the motel before checking his shirt and wrinkling his nose up, stripping off then and there and balling his shirt up to chuck it at Sam in an attempted gross-out tease.

Sam always responded appropriately. Expectedly. Swearing viciously at Dean and pretending to get upset when Dean laughed and called him "Princess" or bitch.

Dean would then saunter off to the shower and Sam would listen for the water to start running and the slick sounds of Dean washing himself before stuffing his hand down his pants and his nose in the clothing.

Breathing deeply.

Trying not to feel guilty.

Failing at it.

It got more and more frequent, and the more it happened, the more of it he needed until he was stealing Dean's undershirts before they could get to the laundromat, wearing them to bed, jerking off into them and then stuffing them under his mattress to use again the next night.

If Dean knew anything was happening, he didn't show it.

So Sam told himself that there wasn't any real reason to stop.

Which led him to the dangerous game he'd begun to play, stretching out in the front seat, head on Dean's thigh, pulling his too big jacket over himself and pressing his body against the seat to hide his erection.

It made him feel bad to use Dean this way, and every few days, like clockwork, he would resolve not to do it again. Besides, his luck could only hold out for so long. Dean was going to notice one of these days and that was a conversion Sam would do almost anything to avoid having.

But then Dean would come home late, stumbling over himself with a stupid grin plastered across his face, body and mouth smelling like women and sex, and Sam would hate him, before the Want would cut another stripe down the raw middle of him and the cycle would repeat itself.

Sam tried to subtly dissuade him when it first started happening, telling Dean that he smelled weird after those nights (and mornings and afternoons), trying to tap into Dean's blanket aversion of "gross" to get him to stay home and stop smelling like perfume and sticky lip gloss and heavy breathing and start smelling like Sam again, the way he should be.

But Dean just laughed him off and said that that was the smell of eau de pussy and it was the best thing in the world and Sam would understand when he got older.

Sam had just stared at him until the smile fell awkwardly from Dean's face and he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

He tried to say sorry, pat Sam on the back. But Sam smacked his hands and said he was going for a walk, letting the door slam loud behind him.

Sam stayed out late into the night, longer than he should have on a school night, longer than he even wanted to, pacing frustrated circles around their temporary neighborhood, hoping to make Dean worry.

Because if he's worried, then he cares, and then Sam can forgive him.

He's so caught up in these thoughts that he doesn't hear the footsteps running up behind him, is caught completely off guard by the arms that grab and yank him, crossing over his chest and holding tightly to him.

He flinches away and starts to panic, unable to break loose.

But there's a lump of metal digging into his spine and it calms him down.

"Dean?"

His brother's hands are shaking.

"I thought you'd fuckin run away."

Sam tries to squirm around to look at him, and it takes a moment before Dean let's him.

There's a touch of motel soap on Dean's skin, fighting to rise above the sweat of his fear. He must've been searching for hours, his eyes are wild and he's disheveled. Sam can tell that he's been raking his hands through his hair. Dean's sure tell for when he's overwhelmed.

But.

He'd showered.

He didn't know who that girl had been, but Dean had washed her off, specifically because of Sam

And that made the dark and jealous parts inside of him light up.

Sam scowls and kicks his feet trying to shake the memory off.

It doesn't do him any good to think about all the times Dean chose him over some girl, cause there are just as many times when he's been left behind. When the lipstick stains just wouldn't come out, no matter what Sam tried.

His shoes scuff the door, and he waits for a reprimand that doesn't come.

Instead of the usual "It'll be your ass if something happens to Dad's car", Dean just asks, "Your legs hurtin' again, Sammy?"

Sam just shakes his head, using the motion to work his way up the inner of Dean's thigh.

"Hey, you're gettin' a little close to the goods there, Sam. Scoot down."

"Try not to hit me in the head with the steering wheel, Dean."

Dean glances down, but Sam has his face buried stubbornly against his hip, quick breathes warming his front pocket.

"You have a bad day or something?"

Sam pulls the coat tighter around himself.

"You always want to drive, Dean. So just shut up and DRIVE, okay?"

"Uh huh." Dean will figure out what's going on, he always does. And then he'll beat up or threaten or kill whatever that problem is, and Sammy will be alright again.

His hand comes off the wheel to rub little circles between Sam's shoulder blades, like he used to do when Sam was a baby and had colic, or when he'd get so angry as a toddler that the back of his neck would go tight and red and his lips would twist up and he'd stop breathing.

It'd worked then, and it works now.

Sam huffs and sighs. Petulant, but coming around. Slowly. 

He moves as close as he dares to the soft heat emanating from Dean's crotch and turns his cheek up to watch him, nose against the soft material of worn out jeans, breathing in the heady scent of him and wondering if this was anything close to what it was like to be one of Dean's girlfriends.

He turns his head, brushing his lips as lightly, as accidentally over Dean as he can.

He wants to kiss his brother.

He can't.

Not once.

Not ever.

And it hurts.

---

Fifteen years later

Dean's phone buzzes. It's a text from Sam.

I'm on my way home.

It'll be a few days.

Don't shower.

[Ao3 link]

[corroded-hellfire]

hey! may i request an eddie x y/n sort of based on some scenes of makeup? like, when they act all lovey dovey? because i was just watching some and i got SO jealous.

My deepest apologies that this took me forever! I tried to make the scenes cute and fit into the ST world and I did the arduous task of watching JQ’s scenes and seeing him shirtless so much for inspiration. I think we can all agree Tom deserves better than Roof and Eddie deserves all our love. I hope you enjoy 🩵

Warnings: oral sex, m receiving (Eddie gets off, cause reader gives better head than Ruth), other sexual allusions, alcohol consumption

Words: 3.9k

Being apart from Eddie is the worst part about college. You’d gotten to see your boyfriend over Thanksgiving and Christmas break, but it’s never enough. Talking on the phone is great, but it’s not the same. The two of you have been counting down the days until spring break rolls around. Since you’d last been in Hawkins, Eddie had gotten an apartment and both of you were very eager to have a place all to yourselves for the whole week. 

Unfortunately, Eddie still has to work while you’re visiting, but staying with him still guarantees you get to see him every moment that you can. He’s at work the day you arrive, and he felt horrible that he couldn’t come and get you at the airport. You assured him you’d rather have him keep his job and wait a few hours to see him. He promises to keep the apartment door unlocked and you happily let yourself in once the taxi drops you off. 

You grin to yourself as you step inside. It’s a very Eddie apartment. Sweetheart is parked right next to the couch, and you can picture Eddie scooping it up and strumming the strings as soon as he gets home. The three chairs at the small kitchen table are mismatched, all of them different colors than the brown wooden surface. You bring your bags into Eddie’s room and set them down near his closet. Even before you take in the small space, you open your boyfriend’s closet and pull out the first hoodie you see. It smells like weed and Irish spring soap, bringing an automatic smile to your face. The smell of Eddie is your favorite in the world, and you make a mental note to ask if you can take this hoodie back to school with you. 

As you slip the sweatshirt on, you turn to look around the bedroom. The bed isn’t made, but the brown comforter has been thrown over the sheets to look somewhat neat. It’s cleaner than you’d thought it would be, no clothes thrown into piles on the floor or no piles of cassettes in the corner. Maybe Eddie cleaned up before you got here—but you wouldn’t count on it. He knows he doesn’t have to do anything to impress you. 

With a chuckle, you fling yourself onto the bed and revel in being surrounded by so much Eddie. His blankets, his pillows, his hoodie. You curl up on your side and bury your face in his pillow. Before you know it the sound of the front door opening wakes you up. The flight must’ve made you more tired than you thought. 

“Babe?”

Eddie’s voice has you sitting up in bed. He pokes his head in the doorway and both of your faces light up in matching grins. 

“Eddie!”

Without hesitation, he leaps on top of you, not bothering to shed himself of his dusty blue coveralls before attacking your face with kisses. His hair tickles you as his lips roam around your skin and you let out a peal of laughter.

“How was your flight?” Eddie mumbles against the skin just below your ear. 

“Good,” you say, letting your eyes slip closed. “But this is much better.”

It feels like as quickly as Eddie was on you, he’s climbing off just as fast. You pout up at him until you realize he’s stripping himself not only of his coveralls, but his clothes beneath as well. 

“Can I make it even better?” Eddie asks with a wink.

Smirking, you unbutton your jeans and shimmy them down your hips. “Get over here.”

The sun wakes you up the next morning, shining through the blinds to the left of Eddie’s bed. The rays warm your face as you stretch your muscles that are stiff from sleep. A lazy smile graces your features as you blink your eyes open and take in the sleeping man next to you. His unruly curls are splayed out on his pillowcase and his mouth is slightly agape as his bare chest moves up and down. 

Moving slowly, you turn on your right side to face him. Eddie’s enviably long eyelashes brush his high cheekbones, and a light stubble coats his jaw. Your eyes rake down the slope of his nose and study his plump lips and pinched pink Cupid’s bow. 

As if your gaze physically weighed on him, Eddie’s body shifts and he lets out a soft groan. His eyes crack open, and he blinks a few times before he turns his head and meets your stare. A warm smile grows on Eddie’s face, and he brings up a hand to rub at his right eye.

“Hi,” he mumbles, voice still groggy from sleep. 

“Hi,” you echo.

Eddie turns his head back upright and breathes out a long yawn. 

Feeling mischievous and giddy after waking up next to your love, you decide to imitate Eddie and see how long it takes him to notice. He suspects nothing when you yawn after him. But when he groans as he shifts his position and you copy the intonations exactly, he glances over at you with a raised eyebrow.

“You copying me?” he asks.

“You copying me?” you say, doing your best to keep your giggles inside.

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head. “What a dork.”

“What a dork.”

“Alright, you,” Eddie says, rolling over on top of you with a smirk.

“Alright you—” Eddie cuts you off with a kiss and you finally let out your laughter against his lips as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

“I swear, the arcade is much more fun when you don’t have to fight the annoying high schoolers for the machines,” Eddie says as he parks the van in the closest parking spot to Palace Arcade’s front door.

“We were annoying high schoolers last year,” you remind him as you unbuckle your seatbelt.

“Nah, we were cooler,” he tells you with a wink. 

Hawkins High School doesn’t have their spring break until next week, so you and Eddie would most likely have free range of all the arcade games in the few hours before he has to head into work. 

“Are you here more often now that Lucas works here?” you ask as you both hop out of the van.

“Yeah,” Eddie says as he slings his arm over your shoulders. “Need something to do when I’m not working or having phone sex with you.”

Face heating up, you playfully shove his arm off of you, making him laugh. You push open the arcade door and the bell above it jingles as Eddie steps in behind you. He steps away from your side and peeks into the back room, giving a small wave to the only employee working in the arcade on a Monday morning. Once the acne ridden man goes back to whatever he was doing before you walked in, Eddie silently jumps over the counter and grabs a bag of tokens from underneath it. He gently places the bag down so it doesn’t clink when he jumps back over the other way.

“And where’d you learn that?” you ask quietly as Eddie struts back over to you, tossing the small bag up in the air and catching it.

“Sinclair is still indebted to his DM,” he says with a shrug. 

“You mean he’s afraid you’ll blab all his secrets to Erica?”

“Exactly.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn towards a pinball machine and Eddie comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and dumping a few coins out on the glass. You pinch one between your fingers and slip it into the coin slot. Eddie presses quick kisses against your shoulder as the game whirs to life and moves his lips up to your neck as your fingers begin to work the buttons on the sides of the machine. Letting out a squeal, you try to shrug him off as he distracts you.

“Eddie!”

“Whaaaat?” he mumbles against your skin, moving his kisses back down to your shoulder again. 

“You’re gonna make me lose,” you pout.

“Uh uh,” Eddie says, squeezing your hips in his hands. “I’m helping you.”

He presses your body up against the machine, caught between it and his warm body against your back. 

“Yeah, some help,” you say as your fingers press into the buttons.

“I know. What would you do without me?” he muses.

That’s how the next couple of hours go—you attempting to play games and Eddie “helping” you. Both of you know the best part is his body being so close to yours, though. But you’ll let him think that he’s the reason you lost at Ms. Pac-Man.

Laying in Eddie’s bed, you watch through the open bedroom door as he crunches on a bowl of Raisin Bran, occasionally slurping some milk. Yesterday, Eddie had the day off and it was wonderful. The two of you spent most of the day in bed and ordered pizza from the best pizzeria in Hawkins. It almost makes it harder to watch him get ready for work today. He’s freshly showered with his wet curls tucked up in a bun at the base of his neck—which you’d assisted him with. His coveralls are clean of dirt and oil, the only mess spoiling the clean jumpsuit the droplets of milk that have leaked down the side of his mouth. 

Eddie downs the leftover milk in the bowl and places it in the sink with a small clank. He strides back towards the bedroom and wipes his mouth off on the back of his hand. As soon as his black boots cross the threshold into the room, you whine and make grabby hands for your boyfriend. 

“What, my love?” Eddie asks as he rests one knee on the bed so he can hover over your lying figure.

“You’re cute,” you say as you stare up into his chocolate eyes. Eddie chuckles and takes your face in between his two hands and presses a few quick kisses to your lips. When he goes to pull away, you wrap your arms around his neck and let out another whine. “Don’t go.”

As Eddie sits up, he pulls your body up with him. He sighs as you bury your head in his neck.

“I can’t stay, baby.” His heart cracks when you whimper against his skin. Your arms slip down his body and Eddie manages to take your face in his hands again. “Come on. I gotta go.” He presses a few more kisses to your lips and stands up, forcing your arms to fall back into your lap. “I’ll see you later, baby. I love you.”

Leaning forward, you watch him for as long as you can until he walks out the front door. Sighing, you drop back against the pillows and tug the blanket up to your chin again. 

The sound of Eddie clanging and scraping in the kitchen surrounds you as you slump against the kitchen table, your fist the only thing propping your head up. You’d made the mistake of going to see your parents today and it had gone even worse than you imagined it would. Eddie coming home from work helped improve your mood a bit, but you’re still sour as he finishes fixing dinner. 

A plate of spaghetti is placed down in front of you, a slice of white bread tucked in next to it on the plate. Eddie plops down in the seat across from you as you pick up your fork. The spaghetti wraps around your fork as you twirl it again and again, never bringing it up to your mouth. Big brown eyes watch you as you stare blankly at your plate. 

“Do you wanna talk about it, sweetheart?” 

You shake your head, eyes not lifting from your food. Eddie lets out a silent sigh as he scoops his spaghetti onto his piece of bread.

“Wanna talk about something else?” he asks before shoving a bite of his pasta sandwich into his mouth. Your eyes finally raise and meet his, causing him to give you a smile. Sauce coats his fingertips so he sets the sandwich down and sucks on each of them. 

“No,” you say softly. 

Eddie picks up a napkin and wipes his hands clean as he looks around the room. His eyes catch on the radio sitting on the counter and he pushes himself out of his chair to turn it on. The dial is set on his preferred metal station, but the badass guitar solo doesn’t set the mood for what he’s trying to achieve. Static floats through the kitchen as Eddie turns the knob, searching for a suitable solution. A soft rock ballad soars from the speakers and Eddie gives the radio a thumbs up, as if it was his wingman on this mission. 

Bouncing on the balls of his socked feet, Eddie bobs over to you and offers his hand with a gallant bow.

“M’lady?”

Even though a small smile cracks through your demeanor, you shake your head at him. Eddie pouts and stands back upright. Starting to shimmy his shoulders, he walks around the small table until he’s in your direct line of sight. He begins to rock his hips back and forth, and while it really has no rhythm to it, it’s still oddly sexy. 

Amusement lights up your eyes as you watch him, raising his arms to the sides and adding them to his shimmies. Suddenly, he yanks his chair out from the table and hops onto it, extending his hand down to you.

“Dance with me, baby.” Again, you shake your head. But this time, Eddie has a little more hope, as it’s very obvious you’re biting back a smile. “Come on!”

With the stability of Bambi on ice, Eddie hops down from the chair and saunters over to your side of the table. He holds his hands behind his back and bends down at the waist to kiss at your neck. Your grin breaks free at the feeling of his lips on your skin. 

“C’mon,” he mumbles and he’s suddenly tugging you up by your hands. It elicits a giggle from you, and you laugh even harder as he wraps one arm around your waist, the other taking your hand in his, and rocks your body from side to side along with his own. 

A sudden surge of emotions crashes over your body. All the love and safety Eddie fills you with overwhelms you, causing tears to prickle the back of your eyes. Eddie’s presence within itself is a comfort that you will never take for granted. The urge to hold him as close as you possibly can is too strong to ignore. Slipping your hand out of his, you snake your arms around his lithe waist and bury your face into his chest. There’s only a moment of hesitation on Eddie’s part—afraid he’s done something to upset you, before he wraps you up in his arms and holds you safe and sound in his embrace. 

Even though the front door isn’t locked, it takes you three attempts to turn the handle and stumble inside. Eddie raises an eyebrow from where he lounges on the couch, his sock-covered feet up on the coffee table in front of him. Your giggles amuse him as you drop your purse near his work boots and slip out of your own shoes. 

“Have fun with Robin?” Eddie asks, watching you sway your hips as you walk over to him. Luckily, Robin only lived in the neighborhood down the road from Eddie’s apartment complex, so there was no driving after you and your friend partook in some cheap liquor. 

���I did!” you say, a giddy grin on your face. Eddie holds his hand out as you get closer, assuming you’re going to plop down on the couch next to him. But you drop to your knees between the couch and coffee table, making Eddie frown in worry and sit up straight.

“You okay, baby?”

“Yeah,” you say with a snort of laughter. “Meant to do this.” He would’ve thought you were just trying to cover up a tipsy misstep, but the way you run your hands up his thighs and start to attack his belt buckle makes him realize that you did mean to get down on your knees. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Eddie asks, lifting his hips when you try and tug his pants down.

You focus on getting his black jeans pushed down to his knees before you look up at him and answer. “Robin and I were talking about our sex lives.” Eddie watches as you stand up and whip your shirt off over your head. It falls somewhere behind you before you get back down on your knees. “Kept talking about how good you make me feel and all I wanted was to get home and make you feel good.”

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, a groan tumbling from his lips as you ghost your fingers over his boxer-clad dick. 

“Yeah,” you answer as you hook your fingers in the waistband of his underwear. “Wanna suck your cock, baby.”

“Shit,” Eddie hisses as you finally wrap your soft hand around him. 

“Feel good?” you ask, looking up at your boyfriend from beneath your eyelashes.

“So fucking good.”

“Good,” you say with a giggle before leaning down and licking a stripe up the underside of his cock.

Eddie throws his head back and grabs onto the arm of the couch next to him, just so he has something to hold on to. Mumbles of fuck, fuck, fuck fall from his lips as you give the head a few kitten licks. When you finally take him into your mouth, Eddie has to fight the urge to buck his hips up into your mouth. He knows you can take it, but he also knows you’re just getting started. 

You swirl your tongue around the tip, pressing your tongue flat against his leaking slit. Pretty moans come from above you as you sink down, taking more of him into your mouth. Saliva drips down his length and you use it to work your hand over what you can’t fit in your mouth. 

“Fuck, baby,” Eddie groans. “You always suck my cock so good. Love this pretty little mouth.”

Now it’s your turn to moan, the sound causing delicious vibrations around his dick.

You pull off just to mumble, “Love your cock,” before you’re taking him back into your mouth, letting him go deeper than before. Eddie’s eyes are half-lidded in pleasure as he watches you bob your head up and down. The way his dick disappears in between your pretty lips has him feeling like he’s ready to burst. So when the tip of his cock brushes against the back of your throat, Eddie’s seeing stars dance in his vision. 

He wants to hold out so badly, the feeling and image of you sucking him off too good to end already, but he feels his thigh muscles start to tense as he gets closer. Feeling the tightness under Eddie’s skin where your hand rests on his upper thigh, you can also tell he’s getting close. Wanting to make it as good for him as possible, you hold off your gag reflex as best as you can and take him into your throat.

“Jesus Christ, baby. Holy fucking shit.” Eddie’s hands are scrambling for something to hold on to and he settles for running his hands over his own hair.

Tears are sliding down your face, surely wrecking your meticulously applied makeup. On one bob of your head, your gag reflex decides to make itself known and you choke on Eddie’s cock. The sound pushes the man over the edge, his eyes practically rolling back in his head.

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna—fuck, where do you...?”

Your hand taps his leg, letting him know you want him to finish in your mouth. 

“Oh, fuck,” Eddie grunts. “I’m—I’m coming, fuck, shit, I’m coming!”

Both your mouth and your hand work him through it, and you swallow every last drop you’re able to milk from him. When he’s finally spent, you pull off of him and sit back on your heels. The room is full of the sounds of heavy breathing as the two of you try to catch your breath. The television is long forgotten background noise to the pair of you. 

A lazy smile lights up Eddie’s beautiful face and he leans down to pull you up onto the couch with him. He tucks himself back into his jeans as you settle yourself next to him. Once his clothing is fully situated, he tugs you closer until your head is resting in his lap. Still only in your bra on top, Eddie figures you might be cold, so he grabs the blanket hanging on the back of the couch and drapes it over your torso and shoulders.

“That was incredible, princess,” Eddie says, gently stroking the hair on the crown of your head. “Gonna have to let me make that up to you.”

“No need,” you slur against his pant leg, now more from tiredness than alcohol. “Just wanted to make my man feel good.”

“You made me feel insanely good,” Eddie tells you. “And I like making you feel good, too. Maybe tomorrow once you’re not so tired, yeah?”

“M’kay,” you say, and Eddie can tell you’re already half asleep. He chuckles to himself and leans down to press a kiss to your temple. 

“I love you so fucking much.”

The last dinner you have with Eddie before going back to school is bittersweet. Your boyfriend watches you over the rim of his glass while you take a sip out of your own. He tries to get playful with you to cheer you up, copying your movements as you pick up your fork and stab some pasta, then lowering it back down when you notice his behavior. It’s clear you’re not in the mood to joke, so Eddie drops the act and lets out a sigh. 

“Sweetheart,” he says. “You have to go back to school. And it’s okay, summer isn’t too far away.”

“Don’t wanna leave you,” you mumble in reply. 

The clinking of silverware startles you, and you look up to see Eddie has dropped his fork and is reaching across the table for your hand. Happily, you give it to him, and he laces your fingers together.

“You’re not leaving me. You’re going back to school to study what you love. And in less than two months, you’ll be back here in Hawkins, and we’ll have three whole months together. You’re gonna get sick of me.”

“Never,” you interject.

“Okay, well we can test that theory over the summer,” Eddie says with a playful smile. “But I promise, the rest of the semester will go by quicker than you think.”

You tug your hand out of Eddie’s and he frowns at you before realizing you’re walking around the table to sit in his lap. He gladly slips his arms around your waist and hugs your body close against his. 

“I love you so much, Eddie Munson.”

He gazes up at you with the most adoring eyes, his thumbs gently stroking along your t-shirt. 

“I don’t blame you. Who else can whip up gourmet spaghetti dinner and look this good doing it?”

You snort and press a hand against Eddie’s chest. He laughs and cups the back of your neck, leaning up to press his lips against yours. “I love you too, baby.”

[urfavchaotichotmess]

What the slashers smell like :

Bo ;

He smells like cigarettes (menthol) , car oil and gasoline. the cheap gasoline smell, not the good one that makes your mouth water. On days he actually showers he’ll smell like the 3in1 body wash or very rarely irish spring soap bar.

Vincent ; {had help on this one 🧍🏻‍♀️ ngl }

wax of course because what else would he smell like, a musky smell mixed with sweat from slaving away in the basement & a lemon like smell. probably from the scent based waxes laying around.

Lester ;

he smells like animal blood, sweat BUT he uses deodorant he finds laying around so his B.O isn’t atrocious. you’d definitely give him a long hug though. he’s so precious i love his life.

Michael ;

he just straight up stinks. that’s my man and all and imma stand beside him but the homeboy just stinks. a whole can of bounce that ass. he probably has 16+ cavities built up over the years. he smells like a decaying body and pure shit.

Thomas/Bubba ;

they smell like flowers, meat and laundry detergent. i just know they’re clean. you cannot convince me that they aren’t the cleanest slashers in the history of slashing. chefs kiss.

Jason ;

mildew, dirt and fresh cut grass is what comes to my mind when i think about Jason. i just know his clothes are just full of that mildew scent. he probably don’t change his boxers either. love him tho

[garbinge]

Not Much To Tell

Jess Mariano x F!Reader

30 Day Fic Challenge

Word Count: 1.6k A/N: I've been rewatching gilmore girls and I'll always be a team jess girlie <3

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of pregnancy and toxic ex who suggests “taking care of it.” *Want to clarify we are pro choice in this house!!!* All Writing Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989kmc1

“So, Doose's Market is right downstairs across the block, the post office is on Peach Street, bookstore is on Plum, and the bakery is on Apricot Ave.” 

As you stood in what used to be Luke’s apartment which used to be a hardware store office surrounded by your luggage and all your personal belongings, you rested your hand on your stomach which was showing your obvious pregnancy. 

“One more fruit street name and you’d have a salad.” Your voice cracked at the awkward joke but you quickly smiled at Jess’ response. 

“Well I did forget to mention the gas station and Gypsy’s Auto repair which is on the corner of Cherry and Walnut.” 

“Walnuts in a salad, my God Mariano, the years have changed you.” You teased your old best friend.

It brought you back to being 16 in New York and teasing each other, spending all of your free time together. In all honesty, where you were at in life you wished you could just go back to that simpler time. Where your biggest issues were getting Jess to actually show up to school and not mark up all of your books, But seeing how that was impossible, you’d have to make due with what was in front of you. You supposed it wasn’t all that bad, Jess had swooped in and come to your rescue. But when you spoke the words “the years have changed you”, you couldn’t help but notice his eyes move down to your stomach for a millisecond before coming back up to your eyes. 

Yes, the years had changed you as well, although it was more like the months did. You were 6 months pregnant with no where to live, no where to go, no job, just $500 in your bank account with no expectation of anymore deposits to be made. But in this moment none of that mattered because Jess took one worry off your plate. A place to live. 

“You know I remember that one time I came to visit you here.” Your hand cupped your stomach instinctually before moving to look out the window. “You met me at the bus stop,” you pointed to the bus stop in view, “and then took me to the diner and made me a burger.” With that, you turned back to him. 

“Old habits die hard.” Jess shrugged since it was exactly what he just did. Picked you up at the bus stop and brought you to Luke’s. 

“Caesar made me my burger this time.” You corrected him. 

“And with no ketchup smiley face, I have to add.” Jess tilted his head and lifted his eyebrows. 

“Really changed the whole experience.” You nodded in agreement and then the booth of you laughed. 

“So, there really isn’t any food here, and I think the only soap Luke has here is an Irish Spring bar from 2002.” Jess was going to the linen closet to look for anything that resembled a toiletry. “But we have sheets.” He pulled out a blanket and a sheet from the closet on the side that used to be his. 

“Jess.” You interrupted him, you could have given him a funny sarcastic response but you saw how much he was scrambling. 

He was placing the linens on the bare mattress and turned to look at you, tucking his long hair behind his ear. 

“I can go to the store, it’s okay.” It was then when you were grabbing your bag from the kitchen table. 

“You want company?” He was asking, grabbing his keys. 

“Would love that.” You smiled and with that, you were off walking to Doose’s. 

The market was cute and had everything you could need in a off-brand label. Jess was holding the basket for you as you added in food and shampoo. As you two stood at the frozen food section, debating the art of the perfect hot pocket, Luke appeared. 

The whole interaction was short, less than 2 minutes but it felt like eternity. He was talking to Jess about his mom and TJ, something that honestly was too complex for someone who was new to the conversation to understand, but for someone like Jess who not only knew TJ and Liz but also was privy to information regarding their current distress the answer seemed pretty simple to him despite Luke’s clear frustration. His frustration soon turned to fluster because his eyes moved to your stomach. 

It was obvious, he did a full double take. Mid-sentence he looked at you, smiled, greeted you because he remembered you and then went back to talking in a distressed manner to Jess before his brain caught up to his eyes. His eyes moved directly to your stomach and then went wide as his stare went directly to Jess for an explanation. 

It was obvious what Luke was thinking despite his lack of ability to say it outloud. The stutters that left his mouth were incoherent but obvious. It was then clear that Jess was related to him because he matched his uncle’s fluster with his own. Trying to explain the situation in stutters, grunts, confused noises and head shakes while Luke similarly flailed around. 

When Jess told you Luke was willing to give his apartment up for super cheap every month, you had assumed he was aware of your situation but leave it to Jess to leave out any and all crucial details. 

“It’s not Jess’” You interrupted the two men with a neutral voice. “He’s just helping me out in a tough time.” 

Luke stood up straight, confusion still littered on his face but relief starting to wash over it. “Oh, uh, it wouldn’t have mattered, I just– kid doesn’t tell me much you know, never has and still doesn’t…” Luke pushed Jess awkwardly with a smile on his face. “I’ll uh,” He brought his hand up to scratch behind his neck and then brought his thumb out to point behind him and just turned to leave. 

A chuckle left your mouth as you turned to Jess who looked equally frustrated and embarrassed. 

“I’m sorry, he uh, is–” 

“So much like you.” You finished the sentence for him and smiled before turning to the freezer section and grabbing the pint of ice cream. 

Jess looked at you grabbing the mint ice cream and smiled. 

“Toothpaste ice cream really?” He grabbed it from your hand and placed it into the basket. 

“Always been my favorite, you know this.” You moved to the check out lanes. 

“I thought maybe pregnancy would have altered your taste buds to realize the true disgust of it.” He started to place all the items on the belt. 

It was honestly his first time really acknowledging the pregnancy. He obviously was aware of it, but even when he ran into you in New York a week ago he never really said anything about it. He just realized you were struggling and knew he was in a position to help. 

“You don’t really talk about it.” You passed him items from the basket as he placed them down. 

“I figured you’ll tell me when you want.” He wouldn’t make eye contact with you. 

“Not really much to tell.” You shrugged and moved to the cash register as he unloaded the rest of the items. 

“$72.56” The cashier spoke as they dropped the items into multiple bags. 

As you went to grab cash from your bag, Jess moved and handed the person a large bill before you could even get the zipper open. 

“Jess.” You said it calmly, but clearly feeling some way about it. 

“I wanted to do this for you before you got here but I got caught up in Philly.” His eyes were genuine, and you took a minute to decide if you were going to continue arguing or not. Ultimately you raised your hands and stepped back and let Jess pay. 

As you stepped outside with the bags in your hand, Jess immediately came from behind you and took them out of your arms. 

“I don’t want you thinking I’m a charity case.” 

“Do you not remember that you paid for everything when we were kids? Pizza, refilling my metro card, my CDs.” 

“I didn’t pay for your CDs, just lended you the ones I bought for myself.” You corrected him. “Plus, I had a good job making stupid good money for a 15 year old.” 

“Well I have a good job making stupid good money for a 30 year old.” He shrugged. 

“His name was Glen and he was in a band and decided touring was probably more important than this. Gave me $500 to take care of it.” You blurted out the sentence while both of you were crossing the street, although you stopped to let the words flow out of your mouth so when Jess turned around he was a few steps ahead of you. 

“Glen is a really lame name.” He said it so soft, and you knew what he was really saying with that sentence. 

“It was the name of his band, too, The Glen.” You felt the tears in the back of your eyes but you didn’t let them escape. 

“Even lamer.” He nodded. 

“Thank you.” You stared directly at him. 

“Don’t thank me yet, I’m ordering Thai food for us tonight and we’re watching Almost Famous.” Jess was turning around to keep walking towards your new place. 

You picked up your pace to keep up with him and called out, “I don’t know if you want to give the pregnant lady Thai food!” 

[saltofmercury]

Evening routine with könig!! Showering together - him being so so drunk on how you’re so small like a fairy to him, both helping each other with washing your bodies and hair. Slowely, calmly - showing him that there is no need to rush anywhere, help him to get used to this pampering. Later on, when könig is on his one knee in front of you and drying you with fluffy towel and you doing the same and after this you both lay down in your bed, maybe your head on his chest, you looking at him, both relaxed in this lovely bubble😭😭😭😭

He’s been gone for over five months. He’s got a huge excitement bubbling inside him, excited to go home, reset, and see you. 

He’s used to quick showers, he’s usually done in eight minutes tops, but if he lingers he makes it out to be ten minutes. If he’s being honest, he used to despise showering because it felt like it was just one more thing he needed to do. 

It was like his body had been on constant alert, rushing, using some god awful bar of soap that was too tacky to touch and some 3 in 1 shampoo that he figured would work. When he came out, his hair was a bit frizzy, dry, and crunchy. He smelled like pine and Irish spring, but he felt dry and tight.

Until one morning you had slipped inside the shower with him, made him enjoy the water and the temperature a little more. He was about to step out, you grabbed his hand, telling him to stay a little longer.

“It’s too crowded.”

“Oh stop it.”

You had rinsed yourself, hugged him, kissing his chest, and leading the trail of kisses down his stomach.

“Schatz…” He had begun complaining, saying that he was going to be late.

“Relax,” you turned around and started putting shampoo on your head, then bringing him closer, putting your conditioner on his head.

“I already showered”

“I know, but a little conditioner never hurts.”

You then remembered his elbows and how he was complaining that they were rough from crawling around. You took out your body scrub that smelled of eucalyptus and vanilla, rubbing it on his arms, chest, and focusing on his elbows. 

Once you were all done, you gently patted him out.

"See? You're not late." You called out to him.

The entire day, he felt different. He even smelled different. Whenever he came to fidget with his hands, they felt smoother, softer to his touch. When he ran his fingers in his hair, it wasn’t dry or brittle like before. It even stayed down and didn’t stick up all over the place. 

He had realized what little you can do in the shower to come out feeling and smelling wonderful. 

So this is why he’s bouncing up and down on the plane, excited to come see you, and relive this moment of peace with you. 

You had been sitting down waiting for his arrival mindlessly scrolling on your phone. You already knew what he wanted when he first got home so you had brought some new scents, a towel warmer, and lotion.

You can hear the footsteps outside his house, the lock clicks, he’s already dropping the weight of what he’s carrying on his body down. He sees you around the corner, running in your socks, about to leap into him. He pulls his mask off, grabs you into a deep kiss, walking you backwards towards the bathroom.

You help him undress, pulling away the black shirt he’s got on, unbuttoning the cargo pants he loves to wear. He swifty removes the t-shirt you got on, and you bend over to turn the water on. You’re running your fingers underneath the tap, adjusting the temperature before you hop in and reach out for him. 

Once you guys are inside, he grabs your face and hunches over to kiss you, both hands on your face. The water is hitting both of you, rinsing away the day. You turn around to grab his new shampoo, a pricey shampoo that you picked up for him, with japanese yuzu and bergamot notes. 

He bends over, you pouring the shampoo into your hands and then scratching and rubbing it gently into his scalp. You make sure to get into every spot of his red-blond hair, and behind his ears. It suds up, goes everywhere, dripping down his neck.

He complains that it’s getting to his eyes and you laugh, switching positions having him rinse off. You tenderly wipe his eyes, standing on your tiptoes to reach, remove the suds, washing away the soap towards the back of his head.

You grab his body wash, lathering it up under the water waiting on him to finish rinsing the shampoo.

You start on his shoulders, kissing along his spine, reaching forward to scrub his chest, arms, and legs.

He lets out a small sigh of relief, your small hand softly working out the tense muscles on his shoulders, letting the hot water rinse away the soap swirling down the drain.

You softly remind him that you love and miss him. 

He bends down to lather you up, as you do your hair. 

You two stand there, engulfed by the warmth of the shower, the hot water hits his back, melting away the hard stress of the months he was away. Kissing you softly, nuzzling his nose with yours.

Stepping out of the shower, you wrap the towel around your head, as you try to grab the other one for your body, he’s got it ready, wrapping it around you, placing small kisses on your shoulders.

He takes you to the room, where you’ve taken out the lavender lotion. You put some on yourself, as he puts on his underwear, then have him sit down on the bed, where you massage the lotion into his back, neck, shoulders, and legs.

He’s telling you there’s no need, but you gentle place kisses on his neck and shoulders reassuring it’s just one more thing you want to do for him. The smell of lavender fills his nose, bringing a comforting warmth and sleepiness to him. You got down on your knees, rubbing his legs, ankles, and feet.

He gets shy, but the way you dig your small hands into his tense muscles, makes him feel so much better, makes him feel loved. You put on the cute lingerie he’s picked out, lather yourself up, and settle into bed, warmth embracing you both, as he wraps his arms around your waist.

Sleep both hovers over your eyes, he’s pushing away the hair from your face, placing kisses that your lips that he’s missed so much.

The two of you lay there, watching each other, memorizing the familiar faces that have been away for so long, just happy that you can be back.

[mermaidxatxheart]

Ribbed II

This is the sequel to Ribbed. I hope you enjoy it. Comments and reblogs show me love.

Pairing: Benny Miller x Reader

Word Count: 4450

Warnings: Benny is taking over as the pussy eating king. Sorry Pedro, usual smut, idk. does it even matter?

Previous Part

Master List

Come over.

You stare at the text message for a solid minute before dropping your phone onto your desk. Benny needed to stop. What happened between the two of you last week could never happen again. He’s your brother’s best friend, and if Mick ever found out, he would probably explode. 

Please?

You groan and flip your phone screen down to avoid temptation. You flex your fingers over your keyboard and try to focus on your work. But the memory of Benny crowds your memory, fighting for dominance at the forefront of your brain. 

“That’s my girl.” Whispers against the shell of your ear and you shudder. “So fucking good.” A breathy moan, your name a desperate plea that traces down your spine. 

“God damn it.” You mutter, grabbing your phone. 

I have air conditioning.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” You type out a quick reply, fingers flying over the keys on your screen. 

We can’t. It has to be just the one time. We were drunk. It doesn’t count. 

Setting your phone down, you shake your hands as you try to rid yourself of the anxiety bubbling up inside you. 

I don’t want it to be just the one time. It definitely counts if I can’t stop thinking about it. About you. 

You press your thighs together, fighting against the memory of the way he felt there. The tender feel of his lips against yours. It didn’t feel like a random hookup at the time, but you’re definitely a coward. You’ve been avoiding both Benny and your brother ever since that night. 

Come over.

Staring at his name, with his picture, your weak will power crumbles and your fingers are typing before you can really protest or talk yourself out of it. 

…..when?

Tonight?

You sigh, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. 

Fine. Now leave me alone. I’m trying to work!

He doesn’t text you back, but that’s just as bad. Jesus, fix it. 

***

You pull up in front of Benny’s house, looking at the windows with no small amount of trepidation. You can’t loiter outside all night and if you don’t show, he’ll just pester you until you do. You shut off the engine and climb out, heading for the front door. 

Your fist hovers over the wood for a long time as you get your courage up. If he doesn’t have you naked within ten minutes, it’ll be a miracle. 

You groan, give your whole body a forceful shake and rap quickly on the door before you can talk yourself out of it. You stare at the welcome mat beneath your heels, wishing you had stopped at home to change out of your work dress and into comfortable leggings and flip flops. The wait stretches out and you tell yourself you’ll give him thirty more seconds before you leave and tell him you knocked but he didn’t answer. His fault. 

Then the door opens and a gust of what can only be described as Benny hits you and your knees go weak. Irish spring soap, hint of sweat, old spice deodorant, and something specific to him that makes it all work. 

“Hey, I’m just making-wow.” He says softly and you look up, frowning. You wish you hadn’t. He’s wearing gym shorts that hang loosely on him, a Motley Crüe tee shirt, his stupid backward hat, and a dish towel slung over his broad shoulder. Droplets are clinging to his hair, like he’s just gotten out of the shower. Looking so domestic shouldn’t be such a turn on. You have to force yourself not to notice all the little things about him that make you want to drop your panties right here in the doorway. 

“What?”

“You look amazing.” He says, stepping back to let you in. 

“Oh.” You enter carefully, determined not to slip on the polished hardwood floor. Benny never struck you as the type to have his shit together. He seems like the type that bounces around from apartment to apartment when his lease is up, the bare minimum of furniture: a couch, a tv, a bed. But his house is… nice. The hardwood floors are well taken care of, polished, clean, dust free. There are pictures and decorations hanging on the wall, some of it art, some of it personal. There’s a rug under a coffee table and the most comfortable looking couch you’ve ever seen, plush and tall. It looks like it will cradle you and support you in all the right ways. There’s a damn shoe rack by the door, what the fuck. 

You pause, looking at the shoe rack with his boots and sneakers lined up neatly. You lift your foot to pull off your heel and he stammers. 

“You can leave them on.” He manages and you chuckle. 

“I don’t wanna scratch your floors.” You say, but also, your toes are cramping. He offers his hand for you to use as balance and you grip it tightly, pulling off your shoes and placing them on the rack. You look back up at him, significantly taller than you now. 

“You said you were making something?” You prompt and he nods, pulling the towel off his shoulder. 

“Chicken Marsala.” He says, turning and heading for the kitchen. “I figured you’d be hungry, and I thought maybe we could talk…” he trails off. He stirs a pot on the stove and you lean against the door frame, watching him. 

“Talk?” You repeat. 

“Yeah. I figure we owe it to each other.” He says, licking sauce off his finger as he meets your gaze. “Right?” You nod mutely. “Make yourself comfortable. Do you want some wine?”

“I think drinking is what got us into this situation.” You remind him and he grins. 

“Fair.” He grabs a bottle of your favorite red wine and sets it on the island bar. “Whenever you want it.” He says, going back to cooking. 

Oh, what the hell. You’re gonna need something to make it through this. You pour yourself a glass and move through to the living room. There’s a dining table off to the side, in front of some sliding glass doors to the backyard. There are actual chairs at the table, a complete set. Color you impressed. 

A polished mirror hangs over a side table with pictures of him and his war buddies. You look at the pictures, Benny catching your eye in every single one. Strong, tall, competent. Then you lift your gaze to the mirror and spot him watching you from the kitchen. He sends you a warm smile, wiping his fingers on the towel. You straighten your shoulders and a mark at the base of your neck catches your attention. 

Instantly, you remember Benny over you, pressing you into your couch, sucking and biting on your neck as you cum around him. Your face flushes and you drop your gaze once more. You need stronger willpower. But then, there’s a reason your gym membership has lapsed and there’s a half eaten package of Oreos you got yesterday. 

Soft fingers trail lightly down your arm and your entire body electrifies. You suck in a breath, looking up to meet Benny’s gaze in the mirror. You can see the plates on the table but as you turn, you only have eyes for him. His gaze is intense, trapping you. Memories of that night dance through your mind, the way he felt on you, the desperate way he held you. 

You want it again. Your brain short circuits and before you know it, you’ve pulled him to you and you’re kissing him. 

God, you don’t realize how much you need this. His hands grip your back, lifting you and kissing you like his very life depends on it. He lifts you up and walks you backward into the edge of the table, still kissing you desperately. You moan against his lips, dragging in a ragged breath of air before giving back into him. 

His lips are feverish as they trail down your jaw, your neck, leaving blisters of pure bliss. He has you up on the table before you even realize it, leaving marks on your neck. The heat that blazes down your spine is unreal as you pull his face back up to yours. 

Did he kiss you like this last time? This feels different, almost possessive. 

His big hand slides up your thigh, avoiding that spot behind your knee as he grips the meat of it, spreading you a little wider for him. His hips are rocking against yours, dry humping you despite the fact that he towers over you. 

Fuck, he’s a great kisser. 

You rock back against him, trying to angle your hips for better friction. The heat is pooling low in your belly now, simmering while all of his attention is focused above your waist. 

“Lean back.” He whispers, pulling away from your mouth just long enough to urge you backward. You want to keep kissing him, you never want the kissing to end, but the look in his pretty blue eyes has you obeying. 

He drags his nose down your torso, kissing the fabric of your work dress as he goes, his fingers curling around the hem of it at your thighs. He pulls it up as far as the table will let him. He guides your feet to his shoulders, kissing your ankles.

“Lift your hips, baby.” He says and you hesitantly push against his shoulders. “You’re not going to hurt me.” He promises, gripping your calves. You push a little harder, surprised when he doesn’t budge an inch. Your hips lift off the table and he pushes your dress up over your waist, exposing your stomach as well. He steps closer, lifting you higher and he pulls your panties down slowly, watching them track down your thighs, over your knees, your shins before they’re dangling on your ankles in front of his face.

You expect him to push into you, primed as you are in this position, but he doesn’t. Instead, he kneels, lowering your legs slowly. He takes off your panties and they disappear, never to be seen again. He guides your legs to either side of his head, dragging his nose up your thighs, inhaling and kissing his way. 

“You smell like heaven.” He murmurs, spreading your lips. “Fuck.” He moans, licking a slow stripe up your heated center. You whimper at the promise of pleasure. If there’s one thing you’re sure of, Benny Miller knows how to eat pussy. 

His tongue flicks at your clit and the series of moves he does next leaves you breathless and gripping at his hair. His hat had been knocked off at some point during your make out session. 

“B-Benny,” you gasp and he dives deeper, fingers gripping your waist as he holds you to him, drinking from you like he’s dying of thirst. His blue eyes flicker to yours and he buries his mouth against your clit, sucking it right off your body. He growls, it vibrates through you and you arch off the table at it. “F-fuck! Right there right there.” You urge and he doubles his efforts, shoving you head first over the edge. You cum in his mouth and he slurps it all up, not showing any sign of slowing down. 

Your muddled mind flashes on a comment he made last week, Later, I’m gonna eat you until you can’t fucking stand.

Oh god. 

His tongue and lips are pulling noises from you that you didn’t even know you could make. No part of you is left neglected by his mouth, he’s determined to live up to his word. Your legs are shaking as his tongue nudges and swirls and flicks at your clit. You’re trying not to trap his head between your thighs, but somehow you really don’t think he’d mind. He moans, and that needy sound sends you over the edge again. Your hips buck and you grab for his big hands. He laces his fingers with yours, blue eyes on your face again. 

His tongue laps at your slit, catching your cum, but he doesn’t come up for air. He just keeps eating you. Puffs of his breath skate over your mound and he’s back to sucking your clit right off your body. 

“B-Benny,” you gasp, vision spinning and you feel his grin. You try to pull at your stuff dress, it’s restricting, you can’t breathe in it. He urges you to one more orgasm, this time your legs do trap his head for a minute as you tremble through it. Then he pulls away, almost reluctantly, helping you sit up. 

“Let’s get you out of this dress, baby.” He mutters, reaching around you to unzip it. You wrap your arms around his waist for support as he does the work. You can’t help yourself, you press kisses against his chest, nuzzling into him. He’s so solid, so permanent against you. In return, he’s kissing along your neck as he struggles with your zipper for a second. “How do you do this by yourself in the morning?” He mutters, lips fluttering against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck. You moan, arching into him. 

“It’s easier in the morning.” You pull at the hem of his shirt, sliding your fingers along his taut muscles. You lift it up to expose his bare chest and you lick and kiss at him, blindly finding a nipple and teasing it with your tongue. 

“Mmm.” He hums, finally sliding the zipper down. He pulls it, loosening the dress around you before lifting the dress off over your head. His lips are on yours before it’s even left his hands. He’s kissing you desperately, holding your body tight against his. Fucking shouldn’t have this much kissing, right? He shouldn’t be kissing you like his very life depends on it. And yet, you’re kissing him back just as hard. His fingers pinch your bra clasp and that’s gone in the blink of an eye. You’re fully naked on his dining room table. 

“Can you stand?” He asks softly, pulling away enough to tilt your head back and kiss along your throat. 

“Yeah, I think so.” You reply, holding onto his shoulders. 

“Okay. Lay back.” He urges, kissing down your chest and trapping a nipple in his mouth. 

You lay back, the wood cold against your newly exposed skin. He kisses his way down your body and spreads your thighs once more. 

“You’re fucking delicious. I could spend hours doing this to you.” He says, tracing your clit lightly with his thumb. You buck your hips in response to the touch and he chuckles. “In fact, I just might.” He adjusts your hips and dives in again, starting off strong. You moan, not sure how much more you can take from his perfect mouth. 

He lets your legs drape over his broad shoulders, big hands now cupping your tits and teasing your nipples as he eats you to blinding orgasm after orgasm. One bleeds into the next, your eyes are rolled back into your head, or crossed, you don’t even know. Your thighs are shaking constantly, but you can’t move, can’t squirm, he hasp you trapped. He’s making just as much noise as you are, moaning and growling possessively 

After six, or maybe nine? You try to push his head away, whimpering. “N-n-no more.” You beg and he’s slow to pull off, still sucking your clit as he does. 

“Fucking best pussy I’ve ever had.” He says, massaging your thighs a little. “You did so good.” He looks down at you, panting and boneless on his table. “Mhm, I need you like this every day.” He says, moving around you and hooking his arms under your knees and shoulders. 

“Can’t handle every day.” You shake your head before resting it on his shoulder. 

He chuckles. “Okay, every other day.” You don’t even argue because you know now you don’t actually have the power to resist him. He’s too good, too much of what you need. 

He sets you gently on the couch and starts undressing himself as you watch. He’s a fucking work of art, muscles within muscles, long and lean and powerful. You reach for him, wanting to taste him. He stopped you last time, but you need to this time, if only to give your poor cunt a break. 

“Pretty girl,” he captures your wrist. 

You look up at him with pleading eyes. “I wanna taste you.” You say softly and he groans, running fingers through his messy hair. 

“Can you kneel?” He asks, moving around to the back of the couch. You nod and roll, propping yourself over the back of it. It’s the perfect height for him. He strokes his hard cock, giving it a forceful tug as you open your mouth. “If you make me cum before I have a chance to fuck you again,” he starts.

“I’ll just get you hard again.” You promise, reaching for his shaft. Remembering how good it felt inside you had you dripping. You’re not leaving without it tonight. 

You lick the tip slowly, tasting the salt of his sweat, the sweet precum. You drag your tongue around the crown and slide him into your mouth. You suck as you pull him back out, focused like a laser on this part of him. In as deep as you can get him, sucking hard on his way out. Tongue flickering against the tip and massaging along the sensitive underside as you slide him in deep. 

It isn’t until he grunts, fingers buried into the back of the couch that you think to look up at his face. Twisted in concentration, he’s watching your every move like a hawk. Your own eyebrows furrow, wondering if you’re doing it wrong. 

He lets out a breathy chuckle and smooths your eyebrows back down. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me with your hot little mouth, I’m trying not to cum immediately.” He says and you smile around his cock.

You pull it out, licking down his shaft. “I want you to cum in my mouth. I wanna taste it. Plus, I came plenty in yours. Fair is fair.” You remind him, flicking your tongue out against his balls. He hisses. You lift his hand off the back of the couch and place it in your hair. Something about a man’s hand fisting in your hair as you suck him off has you weak. Especially if that man is Benny Miller. 

You worship his balls for a minute, licking them, sucking them into your mouth as you watch his face, lazily stroking his shaft. 

“Oh fuck.” He moans, pulling your hair tie out and gathering your hair in his hands. He definitely has a thing about your hair being down while he’s with you. He did it last time, too. “Right there, baby. Oh fuck, that’s perfect.” He moans. 

You kiss back up his shaft, sliding him deep into your mouth, tapping the back of your throat as you start to bob your head. You grip his ass, pulling him closer so you can get deeper. He slides down your throat and you swallow around him. He growls and bucks his hips. 

You start bobbing your head faster, using your tongue wherever you can reach. His hips are starting to thrust, too, and watching him use your mouth for his pleasure when so far he’s been all about yours, is such a turn on. 

You pull him closer still, holding him in place where he can’t pull out at all. He’s throbbing in your mouth and you can feel him getting closer. You start sucking harder, massaging his balls. You look up at his handsome face, finding his eyes already trained on you. His cock swells in your mouth and you bury him down your throat, feeling him cum. You let him pull out slightly, his cum spurting onto your tongue and filling your mouth. You close your eyes in bliss, tasting it, rolling it around as you suck and massage his shaft for all of it. 

Finally he pulls out and you swallow every last drop with a soft hum of approval. 

“Fuck.” He surges forward, kissing you hungrily, fingers tangle in your hair as his tongue invades your mouth, licking into every corner and dancing with yours. You pump his cock, feeling how hard he still is. “You’re fucking perfect.” He groans, pulling back to look at you. You kiss him again but he only allows it for a second before pulling away. 

He moves around the couch and you’re about to sit back down but he grabs your hips. “Stay right here, beautiful. This is how I want you.”

You arch your back down, presenting your cunt to him with a playful wiggle of your ass and he groans, spreading you and licking your cunt again. “So fucking good.” He moans, starting to eat you out once more. The desperate way he’s devouring you triggers an orgasm before you can even try to stop him. You cry out, bucking and grinding against his face. He really is insatiable. He holds you firmly in place as he eats you out again, this time sliding two fingers inside. You tighten around them involuntarily as he finds your g-spot. They stick to it like glue, rubbing in time with his mouth suck you and you’re seeing stars. Mouth hanging open as he drags another three orgasms from you this way. Your cum is dripping down your thighs, his elbow, his chin, but you can’t stop. He won’t let you. 

You're nearly in tears when he finally pulls away, his fingers sliding out of your drenched cunt and leaving your trembling walls to flutter around nothing. 

You feel his cockhead press against your entrance and he slides in slowly, letting you feel every inch as he buries himself to the hilt inside you. His arms brace against the back of the couch, caging you in. You can feel his broad chest, mere inches from yours. He nestles home inside you, forehead resting against the back of your skull. 

“Lean forward.” He urges, guiding you forward until you can’t anymore. He rocks into you slowly, shifting his arms around you, holding you. It’s so tender, so soft, it doesn’t belong with two people who are just fucking. But it feels right. It feels like Benny. 

Kisses are pressed against the crown of your head, down the side until he reaches your ear. “Feel so fucking good around me.” He praises softly. “So fucking good. I can’t get enough of you.” He kisses down your neck. “I’ll make it okay.” He says and you frown slightly, wondering what he means, but his words are soon forgotten as he starts to move a little more inside you, building up to a good speed. 

You whimper and he clutches your hands, holding you tight against him. You can only cling to his long fingers as he fucks you, that pleasure building fast. He’s filling you in a whole new way, reaching parts of you he didn’t last time. Kisses are pressed against your shoulder as he thrusts faster and faster, marks are sucked into your skin, claiming you for himself. 

You didn’t notice the mirror hanging on the wall across from you. It’s hanging at the perfect height to see him fucking you, lost in pleasure as he buries his face in your neck. Puffs of breath on your heated skin, and he looks up, seeing you watching him in the mirror. Never mind your own fucked out look. 

“So fucking pretty, baby. Look how good you’re taking my cock. Look how pretty you look.” He murmurs, his eyes trained on your face in the mirror. “Cum. Cum for me baby. See how pretty you are when you cum. See why I can’t get enough of you.” He urges, thrusting faster, deeper. He nibbles at your earlobe, fingers, still twisted in yours, pinching at a nipple. You buck, mouth falling open as he makes you cum. He kisses up your jaw, licking and sucking another love bite. “Fucking gorgeous.” He praises. “You have me wound so tight, I won’t last much longer, baby. You feel so good.” He growls. 

One hand stays trapped around you. The other slides between your thighs, strumming your clit and you let out a pathetic cry, cumming again. Your walls squeeze and roll against his shaft, trying to keep him inside you. 

“That’s it baby. So good. Squeeze me so tight.” He praises, keeping his fingers moving against your clit. “Keep watching us, pretty girl. Watch me cum inside you, fill you to the brim.” 

Despite the fact that your eyes desperately want to roll back in your head, you watch him in the mirror. His forehead furrowed in concentration, his eyes focused on you and you alone, his hair messy from all the times you grabbed it while he ate you out. 

Another pinch to your nipple, rolling it between his expert fingers. He licks a bead of sweat off your shoulder and you thrust back against him. 

“Do it.” You tell him, watching his face in the mirror. “Fill me up. Cum inside me. I wanna feel you filling me.” You beg and his whole face relaxes. His forehead rests against your crown. He’s mumbling something but you can’t quite make it out. He doubles his efforts on your poor abused clit, forcing another final orgasm from you before he thrusts in completely, cumming inside you. He growls, thrusting once, twice, three times to bury all his cum where it belongs. You slump in his arms, completely worn out. He rests against you, not quite his full weight but enough of it to keep you where he wants you, under him. You watch his face in the mirror, entranced by the tenderness you see there. 

He doesn’t move for a long time, keeping you stuffed full of his cock, making sure his cum doesn’t leak out. “Are you okay?” He asks quietly. 

You nod. You’re better than okay. You’re orbiting Saturn in orgasmic bliss. 

“Wanna stay here tonight?” He offers and you look at him, twisting your face to the side. 

“Yeah.” You nod and he kisses you deeply, leaving no doubt in your mind that this will happen again. Probably in a couple hours. 

“Let me get you cleaned up.” He pulls out of you with a reluctant groan and you have to agree. You’d like him to stay right there forever. 

“Then can we eat?” You ask and he tips his head back, laughing. 

“Yeah, baby. We can eat.”

@everythingisoverrated @musings-of-a-rose @littlenosoul

[meetmyothersouls]

Today I had to put my dog down. He was almost 17 years old and I'm so heartbroken right now.

Could I please request some comfort Timmy fic please?

I don't have an specific idea. Just anything, really. If you feel like it.

Thank you.

Anything for you <3 I hope this helps you feel a little bit better.

Comfort in Darkness

Warnings: darkness, being sad, crying, fluff

"Sneaking into my room again, y/n?" Timothee says, in the darkness of his cabin. His voice is playful in his usual flirty tone he uses with you. You sniffle once and it instantly chances. “Y/n? What’s wrong?” And he’s on his feet.

"I'm sorry, I just...I need you," you say in a small voice. He doesn't have a single light on in his one room cabin. Or the TV or even his phone. The total darkness is all encompassing, and you start to back up against the front door desperate for a surface to ground you. You gasp when your hand is pulled, and your body softly thuds against his. You can't see him, but you can feel him. You can smell him. His usual scent that you love so much: spearmint, Irish Spring bar soap and the faintest hint of cigarettes. Not overwhelming just enough for the scent of tobacco to make you feel at home. Your eyes close as your cheek rests against his chest. You don't even come up to his collar bones. You feel safe in the long, lanky arms that snake around your body and push you against him.

"Never apologize for needing me," Timothee whispers as his thumb rubs the skin on the back of your shoulder. "Ever." Your eyes adjust to the darkness, accompanied by the moonlight peeking through the curtains on the far wall of the cabin, backlighting Timothee's figure in an almost angelic way. You can see him now, but just barely. He tilts your chin up, and you see him lick his lips before he brings them down to meet yours. Timothee presses his lips against yours softly. A whisper of a kiss, as if testing your waters to make sure he doesn't push you too far. "Come sleep with me tonight," he says, now pulling you to a bed you can't quite see in the darkness.

"No, no. It's okay. I really shouldn't. I shouldn't have-"

"You walked all the way from your cabin, y/n. At least stay here with me for the night," Timothee says, almost pleading. Like he needs you just as much as you need him.

"Someone might see."

"It's just you and me in here, y/n."

"But in the morning. In the morning they might see."

"So let them. I'm not letting you walk back to your cabin tonight. It's late, there's bears and mountain lions out there." He's walked you to his bed and he's climbing in, scooting all the way over to the right side. He pulls what you know is a flannel sheet over him, but holds it open for you to crawl in next to him. The moon shines brighter through the window above his bed. You can make out every curl on his head now, and his sleepy eyes you love so much. He pats the mattress. "Please, baby? Don't go back. You came here for a reason, now let me help you sleep."

He had you at 'please' and 'baby' was just icing on the cake. You crawl in without another word and Timothee immediately pulls your body against his. You snake a leg in between his and his ankle pulls you in closer.

"You wanna tell me what's going on," Timothee asks after a few moments of silence and several soft kisses to your forehead.

"I just," you pull away from him lightly and he turns fully on his side so he's making eye contact with you in the darkness, giving you his full attention. His hand finds your hip and pulls you closer to him. You smile. He always wants you close. His hand stays there, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin. You swallow hard, attempting to say what your thoughts without crying, but you feel that lump in your throat and your eyes burning, begging you to let the tears fall. Your voice shakes as you try to speak again. "I've been having a hard time and-" you break off in a sob.

"Shh, shhh, baby, it's okay. It's okay I'm right here," Timothee whispers, pulling the rest of your body into him. "It's okay you tell me when you're ready, okay?" Your face rests comfortably in between his shoulder and his neck, and the scent you love so much is amplified in the soft crook of skin. You would live here if you could. You kiss the skin lightly, not able to hold back. You feel his jaw move into a smile above you. Timothee chuckles, "you know what neck kisses do to me, y/n, but I'm gonna hold back because you're sad." His voice is soft and playful and that alone brings a smile to your face. "How about you get some sleep, and if you're feeling up to it in the morning you can tell me what's going on?"

You kiss his neck again, and the groan you hear him hold back brings you joy. "That sounds good, Timmy, thank you."

Tags: @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp @kteezy997 @sufferingstarlight @xoxoloverb @tropicalrozmajzl @iloveneilperry @syirnge @patronsaintofthetwinks @roseboysareprettier @onlyenoughiamweird

[raine-degenerate]

Soap (mw2) head cannons

I love this silly man... Unhealthy amount..

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Was attacked by a dog when he was younger, nothing too crazy but forever changes his views.

He always wanted to join the military, from a young age that was his goal

Doesn't have a clue how to cook. He took home ec. In highschool and almost burnt it down.

Loves hunting. If he's home during hunting season he is out in his blinds.

uses very nice soap (hear me out here!) Like he isn't using Irish spring. Price bought him a really expensive soap as a joke but now soap is hooked.

Definitely used nice cologne, he has a collection for any occasion. Mainly woody and pine scents.

Smokes cigs. Doesn't matter what brand. But he hates the smell of them so after he's done he'll brush his teeth and spray cologne.

Pillow fanatic, when this man is home he is wrapped up in several blankets and pillows.

Beer drinker, will drink cocktails on fancy occasions but if he's just shooting the shit, it's beer.

He treats his partner like God/goddess. Love language is physical touch and words of affirmation.

Will take his partner on a shopping spree and just happily follow you around, just enjoying their company.

His wardrobe is full of t-shirts, sleeveless shirts and blue jeans. He can dress up but rarely.

Animals aren't his favorite. If his partner has some he'll be civil. Prefers smaller animals.

Personal hygiene is a must, he has lotions, creams, gel. His bathroom cabinet is packed.

Loves late night walks, any chance to look up at the stars or just get some fresh air.

Works out every morning. If he lives with his partner he will wake up before they do just to work out and get a shower in.

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heyyyy~ thank you for reading! My requests are open ! Also please give me crit! I love any way to improve my writing since I'm just getting back into it. Thank youuu <3