#My brain is scrambled eggs because of all of this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

roanniom · 2 years ago

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feeling absolutely unhinged tn just wanna be eddie’s little HOUSEWIFE more than i wanna BREATHE

Come Home

Mechanic!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, PIV sex / unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), titty fucking, recreational drug use and alcohol consumption, dirty talk

It’s a role playing thing more than anything else. You are a teacher and, as such, are very busy and a far cry from a stay-at-home anything. Hell, you’re not even married to the man.

But ever since you and Eddie had moved into the little third floor walk up in what could laughingly be called Downtown Hawkins (really just the overgrown main street), Eddie had been jokingly calling you his little housewife. It’s a title that sends shivers down your spine and a smile spreading across your face any time he utters it. And he does so jokingly, of course. You know how much Eddie respects your ambition and your hard work, so you’ve never had to worry that he truly wanted to see you barefoot and pregnant, stuck in the kitchen for the rest of your days.

But some days that idea is way more appealing than you’d like to admit.

On this day in particularly, you find yourself fantasizing about it more than normal. In the morning you’d woken up earlier than usual, roused by the loud thunk of a garbage man tossing a can recklessly back into place. Unable to go back to sleep, you’d extricated yourself from Eddie’s arms and tiptoed into the kitchen where you’d whipped up a batch of pancakes, scrambled eggs, and fresh coffee. Way more than your usual weekday toast or cereal, mainly because you wanted to give your tired brain something to focus on in order to wake up more fully before work.

Eddie had stumbled into the kitchen, stretching and in his mechanic coveralls, with a massive grin on his face.

“What has my little housewife been up to this morning?!” His voice had bellowed through the small space and you’d dropped the spatula in order to walk over to him.

“Thought my big strong man could use a hearty breakfast before he has to go to work for the day,” you’d said with a humorous lilt, wrapping your arms around his neck just as his hands come to rest on your waist, pulling your body to his. Your words and actions made his grin grow even bigger.

“You’re so beyond good to me, you know that? What’d I ever do to deserve a babe like you, huh?” he’d asked, sliding his hands down and around to squeeze your ass. You’d squealed and pushed yourself further into his body.

“You treat me right in the bedroom, so I treat you right in the kitchen. Those are the rules.” You’d said it primly it as if reciting a gospel. He’d laughed and shoved his face into your neck, peppering kisses against your throat and cleavage till you’d screamed about not wanting to burn the last batch of pancakes.

The two of you had sat together at your shitty linoleum dinette set eating breakfast way too fancy for a Thursday. Eddie had insisted on pulling his chair right up against yours and keeping his hand on your thigh even while he devoured forkfuls of eggs and pancakes with abandon.

By the time you were driving home from work, however, the phantom feeling of the weight of his hand on your thigh from the morning still hadn’t dissipated. It had been a half day, allowing the students to leave early in order to theoretically study for finals (but you heard tell of a bonfire that was going to be happening down by the lake so you held no delusions that the free time would be utilized by any for actual academic purposes). So this meant you were going to be home way ahead of Eddie today.

Your first thought upon waking through the front door is that you should masturbate. You’d been feeling so confined by your clothes all day and had been feeling needy since you’d kissed your boyfriend good bye on your way out the door.

So you march right into your shared bedroom, strip down to your sensible underwear, light a candle, and lay across your bed. You hadn’t had to get yourself off in a good long while. Eddie kept you good and satisfied, the insatiable man that he is. You do your best to get in the right mindset, breathing deeply running your hands along your body.

You catch a glimpse of yourself, however, in the mirror across the room and you frown. Maybe your underwear is too sensible. Gliding to your dresser you dig in one of your drawers and pull out the lingerie you’d been planning on surprising Eddie with on his birthday. It’s lacy and see through and your heart rate kicks up just at the thought of the way you know his jaw will drop and his eyes will widen at the sight of you.

Once your curves are encased in the fine fabric, you lay down on the bed once more. Hands slide up to you with your nipples through the fabric and you sigh. It feels good. Not as good as it would if it was Eddie touching you…but good.

You roll onto your stomach and look at the clock. 2:00 pm.

Fuck.

Eddie wouldn’t be home for hours. The injustice of that fact makes you pout and roll petulantly back over onto your other side. This new position gives you a straight line of sight to Eddie’s old black lunch pail and you perk up. This might be your best bet to loosening up and finding pleasure on your own.

~*~

It’s 2:45pm when the shop phone rings. Eddie doesn’t look up from the car that he’s working on, instead ducking his head further under the hood and squinting at the engine that’s been giving him a hard time.

“Eds! It’s your girl calling!”

Eddie stands up straight so fast he bangs his head hard on the underside of the hood.

“Motherfuck,” he mutters to himself, rubbing a grease-stained hand on the part of his head that was sure to soon form a bump. He makes his way over to the little office of the mechanic shop and takes the phone from his uncle’s outstretched hand with an appreciative nod.

“Baby? What’s up? Is everything okay?” Eddie’s apprehension is clear. You never call him at work. Not because you don’t want to but because your days are usually both so busy there’s barely any chance to do so.

“Eddie!” you cry out over the phone, your voice high and bright. “I miss you. Come home.”

Eddie’s a bit startled by your demand, immediately checking his watch. Just as he thought, it’s still really early in the afternoon.

“Why are you home so early? Are you sick?” His heart starts thudding over the possibilities when he hears your musical laugh.

“No it’s a half day at work, silly. Remember?”

Eddie shakes away his fears and laughs along.

“Oh sorry sweetheart, completely forgot.” He tosses a glance back into the shop at all the cars he still has to get to. “Must be nice. Getting into any trouble with your free time?”

He asks the question lightly. Joking. Fully expecting you to say you’re about to go grocery shopping or you’re watching a shitty movie on tv or reading one of your paper backs. But then you mumble.

“Well...maybe just a little.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline and a huff of a chuckle escapes his lips.

“Oh yeah? What’s my girl up to, huh?”

There’s the rustle of fabric over the line and then your voice is low.

“I’ve needed you since you left this morning Eddie. Can’t take care of myself as good as you can,” you say, practically moping. Eddie’s stomach flips and he slams his back against the wall next to the phone, making sure he can no longer be seen in the doorway from the shop.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart are you...are you touching yourself?”

“I was trying to. It’s getting a little easier now that the edible is kicking in,” you say, sounding far off for a second like you’re thinking real hard about it.

“Now that the…” Eddie’s face splits in a massive grin and he rubs a hand over his eye. “So you’re telling me you’re high right now?”

“It’s kicking in, yeah,” you whisper cheekily and he can guess you’re smiling.

“So you mean to tell me that you’re high…and horny…and calling - begging - for me to come home and fuck you?” Eddie closes his eyes and squeezes the phone cord so tightly that he’d worry it would snap if he actually gave a fuck. His low, almost growling words cause you to moan over the phone and his knees go weak.

“Yes, Eddie. Need you so bad. Can you come take care of me? Please?”

Eddie doesn’t reply, not directly to you. Instead he turns toward the shop and cries out, loud enough that you hear it and descend into giggles.

“Uncle Wayne, I’ve gotta go. Gotta…take care of something at home!”

~*~

When Eddie thunders up the stairs to your shared apartment, he doesn’t know that you can hear him coming from inside. You laugh at the way you can hear his enthusiasm in his rapid steps and adjust yourself, waiting for him to reach the door.

When you hear him step onto the welcome mat you wrench the door open and lean against the frame dramatically. Just on cue, Eddie’s jaw drops to the floor.

“Welcome home, baby,” you coo handing over the glass of whiskey you have in one hand. His eyes are so fixed on your lingerie that he barely notices what you were holding in the other hand until you busy yourself with it.

You bring one of his pre-rolled joints up to your lips and light it with his favorite lighter, puffing a bit to bring the burning end to life. The lap of Eddie’s mechanic coveralls immediately tightens as he watches your plush lips work around the joint.

“Fucking Christ…” Eddie mutters to himself before knocking back the entire glass of whiskey in one go. You pull the joint from your lips to laugh at his reaction, squealing when he slams the door and grabs you around the waist, dragging you into the apartment. “Where have you been all my life?”

You giggle and bring the joint up to his lips, delighted when he takes a grateful drag.

“I’ve literally been right next to you your whole life,” you respond, referring to the friendship you’d shared since grade school, long before you both admitted your feelings for one another.

“Well fucking stay right next to me, okay?” Eddie gruffly asks, burying his face in your neck. You hum your approval and wrap yourself around his tall, lanky frame.

“That depends.”

“Oh? On what?”

“Can you fuck me now?” you ask breathlessly. Eddie pulls back to look at you, laughing, but you’re not joking.

“Of course, baby. But I just got in the door. Let me shower and - ,”

“No!” you say petulantly, holding onto him as he tries to step out of your grasp. “I want you like this.”

You begin kissing up his neck and he attempts to extricate himself.

“Sweetheart, I’m covered in grease and sweat...” Eddie shakes his head but you’re nodding so profusely he stops in his tracks.

“’s what I’ve been fantasizing about all day,” you clarify, biting your lip and looking up at him through dropping eyelashes. Eddie’s cock hardens that much more and soon you’re pressed up against the closed door to your shared bedroom, his thigh fitted between yours in a way that has you panting.

When Eddie finally pulls away from the act of devouring your mouth, you sag against the door to catch your breath, watching as he pulls from the joint that he must have miraculously continued to hold onto as you’d made out. He looks like sex on a stick as he stands there, propped up by the arm against the door beside you, joint between his lips, tousled hair sticking up in every direction from the impatience of your hands. His coveralls have been zipped open and pushed askew by those same impatient hands and he smiles under your scrutiny.

“What brought this...enthusiasm on, babe?” he asks lowly. “Not that I’m complaining of course.”

You wriggle under his gaze. A little embarrassed, but also wholly aware that it’s Eddie. Your Eddie. So you’re honest.

“Wanna be your little housewife,” you admit shyly. His features crumple for a split second as he is entirely unable to handle how fucking adorable you are. But just as quickly he’s grinning.

“Of course you do,” he says confidently. He places the joint back between his lips and presses his thumb against the plush of your lower lip. The tip of your tongue darts out automatically to lick at the pad of his thumb and Eddie’s breath catches. Your pupils are blown wide. You’re properly horny (and properly stoned) and a deep seeded desire to care for you bubbles in his abdomen. “Can you get on the bed for me, princess?”

Like a gentleman, he opens the door you’d been pressed against and bows you inside. You do as you’re told and immediately drop down onto the mattress, looking up at him expectantly like a puppy who is awaiting further trick instruction. Eddie wants to laugh, but his dick also twitches impatiently in his coveralls, reminding him action is probably the best next course.

“Undress me?” he asks as the next part of his plan. You get up on your knees on the bed and drag him to you by the fabric of his coveralls. Tongue placed between teeth, you stare him in the eyes as you zip him down all the way, pushing the sleeves over and off his shoulders. The garment drops to gather at his hips where it tented at the crotch, catching on his hard dick. You whimper and reach for it but Eddie grabs your arms and winds them around his neck, pulling you in for a kiss.

When he pulls back, he has a smirk on his lips.

"Alright. Time for a shower."

Your brows knit together immediately in betrayal and your arms tighten around him, trying to keep him grounded against you.

"But I - !"

Eddie shushes you and steps out of his coveralls. His boxer-covered dick prods insistently against you and it makes you whine more, rubbing into it as much as you can. But Eddie's having none of it. He pulls you off the bed, dragging you alongside him on his way to the bathroom.

"Shhh, sweetheart. You're gonna help clean me up. That's what a good housewife would do, yeah?" He comes to a stop in front of the sink, leaning you against the counter so he can pull back the shower curtain and turn on the water. You brighten up a little at his words.

"Yeah..." you agree tentatively. Eddie rewards you with a massive grin and before he can stall any longer, you strip down his boxers and nudge him into the shower. You tear off your lingerie and step in behind him as fast as you can, pushing your way into his waiting, dripping arms.

"There's my baby," he coos. The longer the two of you stand in warm embrace beneath the steaming shower head, the more his erection flags into a contented, semi-hard state, however, and you aren't having any of that. So you are the one who pulls away and gets to work.

You clean your man. Well.

Soap up and down the length of his body. Shampoo in his hair - which you can only access efficiently once he leans down to help you reach. He hums and groans as you massage the shampoo and then the conditioner into his scalp and the sound makes your entire body sing. There's so much intimacy in the act, and if you weren't so turned on that every nerve in your body felt like a live wire, you probably would have enjoyed it more. Once he's started rinsing off, however, you attend to your favorite part. Running your hands up and down his abdomen and tugging at his cock without preamble.

"Baby..." Eddie reprimands, his eyes closed against the spray of water as he rinses conditioner out of his sopping curls. He doesn't open his eyes or move to stop you so you take that as your cue to continue. You get him nice and hard again, aided by the shower water and saliva that you spit into your hand.

"Sweetheart," Eddie tries again, chuckling this time and grabbing at your wrist. "I'm supposed to be getting clean."

"I don't care," you answer petulantly. "You've kept me waiting."

Eddie's laugh is full-bellied this time. He turns the water off and slaps your ass lightly, stepping around you to get out of the shower.

"I know, baby, and that was cruel. Why don't you get dried up and put on another one of those little get ups for me. I'll get us another drink and we'll do whatever you want, okay?"

You fight the urge to groan in frustration that you're being made to wait yet again, but a good housewife wouldn't do that. So you nod and wrap yourself in the towel he offers you, bouncing back to the bedroom on impatient feet.

~*~

Eddie had gotten the upper hand on you, that much he knew. Making you wait had been cruel, but he knew it was better then getting you - and the bedroom - all covered in grease. He makes a mental note, however, to fuck you on his work counter at the garage one evening next week after closing time when Wayne was out of town. He's nothing if not attentive to your wants and needs.

He whistles as he walks back to the room, a glass of water and two cold bottles of beer in hand. He's expecting you to be waiting patiently - maybe even already at the door. But he stops short the minute he sees you.

You're spread out on the bed in a different lingerie set, this one somehow even sexier than the last (the second part of the birthday present you're giving him early) and he feels his entire body flush a deep red. You watch it spread down his neck and chest and rub your thighs together.

"Eddieeee," you call out, letting the second syllable become a whine. You might still be begging, but you're the one in power now, as far as Eddie is concerned, as he moves on autopilot towards you. You get up onto your knees and accept the bottle of beer from him, wrapping your lips around it lasciviously. Eddie chokes as he takes his own sip.

"Can I have it?" you ask, gazing up at him from beneath your eyelashes. Eddie swallows thickly.

"Can you have what, princess?" he asks. He knows what you want. He's just a teasing asshole and needs you to say it.

But you are tired of playing the game so you don't play fair. Instead of answering him you pull at the towel tied around his waist till it falls to the floor, exposing an erection so proud your mouth positively waters. You make eye contact as you reach for it, practically daring him to get in the way of what you want again. But Eddie's resolve is completely gone at this point, and he lets you have it, letting his eyes fall closed at the sensation of your hand wrapping around him.

You tug at him. You let your thumb ease over the thick vein that you so enjoy licking. You flick your wrist when your fist encases his mushroom head, coaxing a bead of precum out the slit just as you'd hoped.

Eddie takes one final swig of his beer before grabbing your bottle from you and placing both it and his on the night stand. You whine when the motion pulls his cock out of your grasp, but you’re placated when he climbs onto the bed and grabs you by the thighs, pulling you roughly under him.

“How do you want it, baby?” He asks, kissing a trail down your neck from your ear to your clavicle. “What’s my girl been fantasizing about in that little head of yours?”

A tiny half sober part of your brain finds humor in the phrasing of the question. You happen to know Eddie finds you to be the smartest person he’s ever met, so the diminutive nature of his words tickles the part of you that longed for role play like this. Tired of being the smart girl, the serious girl, the strong girl, right now you just want to be this. Eddie’s girl.

“I just want to make you feel good,” you coo. You can see the conflict play out behind his eyes at your response. On one hand he’s so fucking turned on by you wanting to please him. Like he can’t fucking stand how turned on he is. But he also gets off on you getting off, so he’s not sure how to proceed.

And you know this. You know your Eddie is the most selfless, generous lover you’ve ever had and you know that it must kill him to think of putting his pleasure first. But you furrow your brow and give him the biggest puppy dog eyes possible in an attempt to telegraph the fact that you need him to play along. That him taking what he wants will be giving you everything you need.

It’s clear the moment this clicks in his mind because Eddie’s features go soft. He rubs a knuckle lightly against your temple and smiles.

“Of course my baby wants to make me feel good." The kiss he places to your forehead and then the tip of your nose makes your eyes slide closed. So it's soft he wants, you think to yourself. Your heart rattling around in your ribcage doesn't exactly feel ready to slow down enough to match a soft tempo, but you'll work with what he wants to give you.

At least that's what you're thinking when suddenly you feel the bed shifting away from you and your world upended when Eddie flips you over onto your hands and knees. You scramble for purchase against the sheets and yelp in surprise, but you don't even have a second to get situated before Eddie is dragging you back against him by your hips.

"Gonna do so good for me, aren't you baby?" Eddie asks, deep and low from behind you. His voice makes you shiver, as does his hand which slides from between your shoulder blades, down the line of your spine, ultimately delivering a light slap that has your ass bouncing. He groans at the visual of his own making, gripping your hips with two hands again. "Fuck that's the ticket right there, huh?"

"Let me be good for you - oh!" You start off trying to incite him to finally do something but break off in a gasp when his cock begins sliding through your pussy lips, getting your slick all over his hardened length. The tip prods your clit and you buckle inward, so turned on and edged from the events of the last few hours. Eddie laughs and the sound goes straight to your core.

"My little wife that sensitive? Worked yourself up so much for me, huh sweetheart?"

The whimpering inhale to take in in response to that statement makes his cock pulse.

"Need you, Eddie," you whisper. Eddie hums behind you before pushing at your hip to flip you over once again. You're more disoriented this time, even more so when Eddie moves from his place between your thighs in order to straddle your stomach.

You gaze at him above you from your new position on your back and...fuck it is glorious. You try to make grabby hands at him but he ignores you, leaning over instead to the nightstand where you'd left his other pre-rolled joint. He lights it and resituates himself over you, taking a deep drag and dropping his head back as he holds the smoke deep in his lungs while stroking his cock over you with his free hand.

"Jesus Christ..." you mutter to yourself at the debaucherous image above you. You lift up onto your elbows to get closer and he rolls his head back toward you, opening his eyes half mast to blow smoke in your direction. When the cloud clears you see his lazy grin, red-rimmed eyes sweeping up and down your figure.

"This do it for ya?" he asks, playfully. You nod forcefully, unable to take your eyes off the head of his angry red cock disappearing and reappearing in his fist. The slide is loud and fast and wet. Wet from your own slick, your realize with a lurch of your stomach. Fuck you want him inside you. Reaching out a hand towards him, you tear your gaze away from his dick and bring it back up to his overly amused face.

"Can I help?" you ask, way too innocently for the context of the situation. Eddie pretends to mull it over, joint elevated in his free hand as his tongue slides over his teeth.

"Yeah, I think there's something you can do..." he says vaguely. You're unsure of the implications until he moves forward, pushing the straps of your lingerie off your arms, and it is suddenly abundantly clear what he is angling for - and you couldn't be more excited.

As Eddie brings the underside of his cock to rest against your sternum, you lift your breasts up on either side to sandwich his length between. Eddie watches you from above, his grin indicating how proud he is that you're playing along so quickly.

"There you go, that's perfect. Now could you just - oh fuck." Without him even having to complete the request, you spit on his cock, adding to the wetness still present from your slick, reaching up and spreading it over his erection in a way that has him biting his lip in seconds. "Look at you, knowing just what I need."

You smile up at him and push your breasts together again, moving slightly to let him feel the drag of your plush skin against him. Eddie places the joint back between his lips and leans forward to grip your shoulders for leverage. This allows him to fuck his hips back and forth, creating the friction he was seeking.

Though this act doesn't directly stimulate any of your erogenous zones specifically, the sounds it pulls from his lips and the look on his crumpled face as he watches what you're letting him do to you - it's got your pussy practically weeping.

"You're so fucking hot, princess," Eddie says around the joint before taking one last long hit and reaching over to stamp it out in the ashtray on the bedside table. With both his hands free, he returns to you with renewed attention, dropping his palms to circle lightly over your nipples. Your eyes widen at the stimulation and Eddie grins. "Like it when I fuck your tits?"

"Yes," you breathe out in response immediately.

Eddie pinches your nipples as a reward and your hips stutter upwards into nothing behind him. Eddie laughs and begins thrusting a bit harder, wrapping his big hands around your smaller ones to help crush your tits even tighter around his cock.

"Fuckin' yeah you do. My perfect girl. Oh shit, just look at you," he practically grunts. You stare heart eyes up at him, watching him take pleasure from your flesh in the most selfish way while still somehow making you feel like you're god's gift to earth. The image of him - eyes blown black and lips red and swollen from biting as his cock moves in the valley of your breasts - has you letting out an unfiltered moan. Eddie's brow twists in mock sympathy. "Need something, princess?"

Your hips buck again and Eddie chuckles, reaching a hand behind himself and down between your legs to play with you where you need him most. He jaw drops at the feeling of your excessive arousal.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you're soaked. I've been neglecting you, haven't I?" he frowns down at you in faux commiseration. You shake your head but your eyelids flutter at the feeling of his fingers against your clit.

"No this is - oh. This is about y-you," you respond, squeezing your breasts tighter to try and get him to fuck them faster. Eddie ignores your statement and instead sinks a two fingers into your heat. Your body tightens and your eyes slam shut. The feeling of his fingers inside you and his thumb on your clit have you neglecting your goal and after a few minutes your hands drop entirely from your breasts in favor of fisting the sheets. Eddie's dick slides up and down your slicked sternum along to the rocking of your body. Watching it rub against your wet skin, watching your tits bounce freely while your cunt squelches loudly around the in and out motions of his fingers - it all has Eddie feeling higher than any strain ever could.

After a few minutes more of the best show Eddie's ever seen in his life, he eases his fingers out of you and brings them to your lips, pulling the bottom one out from between your teeth. The action has you opening your dazed eyes to peer up at him, breathless.

"Let's take care of that pretty pussy now, alright?" Eddie prompts, easing himself back to sit on the bed between your legs. You seize the moment, however, and disentangle yourself from him, dropping down to take his cock in your mouth. Eddie's hands immediately find your hair and he chokes on air. "Hey, hey, stop that, I said we're taking care of you."

"This is what I want," you try to say, but your mouth is a little preoccupied with his cock. You run your tongue up the vein you love so much. You let his fat tip tap the back of your throat, gagging eagerly when you feel his hips press forward just that tiny bit more as he loses himself in the feeling of you.

It's messy. Absolutely filthy, exactly how you like it. Exactly how you know he likes it. With your hands on his balls and elbows and knees digging into the mattress, you arch your back and make sure your ass sticks up that much more with each bob of your head. Eddie certainly takes note. You know because eventually his hand slides back to get a big handful of one of your cheeks before raining down a slap on your backside that has you slamming forward and choking on his length even more. Your eyes water and your throat burns. The guttural moan he lets out in response, however, is priceless.

You're more than a little disappointed when he pulls you off of him finally, holding you back with his hands under your arms like you're a child he doesn't trust to behave correctly.

"Now are you going to let me fuck you or not?" he asks, his voice absurdly tired as if he's suffered some great inconvenience.

You feel inhibition-less, both from your nice high and the result of being absolutely cock drunk at this point, so you giggle and draw a line down from his jaw, over his neck and clavicle, and down to circle one of his nipples.

"You've already fucked me," you tease with a voice hoarse from his dick. You lean forward in spite of his hold on you and lick a stripe from peck to peck, kitten licking his other nipple and up the expanse of his tattoo. "In two different ways, actually."

Eddie, now fully riled up and aching, has had enough of your teasing (though to be fair he's done much worse to you so far today). He pulls you back into sitting position and grips your jaw lightly to force your roving eyes to focus on his.

"I want to fuck you properly now," he enunciates dramatically. You nod his grip and he nods along with you, trying to hide the grin growing on his lips. "What'll it be? Back or hands and knees?"

Before he's even finished asking, though, you've pulled out of his light grasp and scrambled around on the bed, dropping to your forearms and presenting your ass to him. Eddie groans, deep and low, and squeezes at your hips and waist almost too tightly. Almost. Instead you moan at the bruising feeling and wiggle your ass to beg for more.

The sight of you in front of him, primed and ready and all covered in lace has Eddie's mouth positively watering. He realizes, however, that you're still trussed up in your lingerie. The straps are down and your tits are out, and he'd moved the gusset of your panties to the side to finger you, but there are still parts of your body obscured by fabric. And that just doesn't sit right with him.

There are a few ties in the back that he attempts to fidget with, but his impatience gets the better of him after just a few moments. He grips two handfuls of the material and wrenches the body suit in two, straight down the middle.

"Eddie!" you chastise, high and loud. It ends on an incredulous laugh because, regardless of how absurd and immature the action was, it's also incredibly hot. "This was supposed to be a birthday present for you!"

"Well fuck, baby. I had to unwrap it first, jeez," Eddie laughs right back. He pulls the tattered remains of the ruined garment off, tossing it away from the bed, before grabbing you by the front of your thighs and slamming your body back against him. The two of you let out twin moans at the impact. His cock slides around in your slick for a moment, but you're no longer waiting around. You reach down and guide him inside you without any further preamble.

The stretch is still immense, regardless of the excessive foreplay. He's always been a lot to take, and your body is somehow always still shocked by his sheer size. But Eddie anticipates this, of course, so his finger is on your clit within seconds, working you through the initial ache and bringing you quickly into a throbbing, expectant pleasure.

"This pussy's been waiting for me, hasn't she," Eddie whispers right in your ear. His chest is on your back as his hips begin rolling, bringing him in and out of you.

"N-needed you for so long, Eddie," you whimper, cheek pressing into the sheets. Eddie tsks and places kisses to the base of your neck and shoulders.

"I know, baby. You've been so good, waiting for me to come home and take care of you."

“Always waiting for you to come home,” you whimper. Eddie knows it’s just part of the role play. He knows you have work and your own hobbies and friends and a life on top of the one you share with him. Realistically you aren’t sitting around at home waiting for him. But the memory of your voice so sweetly begging him on the phone and the memory of you greeting him at the door in lingerie mixes with the sensory overload he’s experiencing inside you. It makes his cock twitch and his fingers grip your waist with a bruising pressure that you love.

“I know, princess,” he hums, dropping down over you again so that his chest is to your back, hands propping him up on the mattress on either side of you. With one hand Eddie pulls your hair aside so he can pepper light kisses to the back of your neck. A stark contrast to the unforgiving, pendulous thrust of his hips.

“Maybe I should just keep you here,” he says breathlessly after a few minutes that are silent save for the wet slap of skin on skin. He feels you shudder beneath him and continues, lips catching your earlobe. “Keep you naked and wet and waiting on this bed for me at all times. Filled with my cum. Covered in it.”

You inhale sharply at his words and your lips pull into a dramatic o. Eddie feels you clench around him and is more than aware of what this is doing to you.

So of course he continues.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be my pretty little thing?”

You nod your head erratically into the mattress, practically beside yourself at this point. It’s exactly what you want, at least for the purposes of this fantasy. The weight of Eddie against you and the steady way his cock pummels that sweet spot inside you has your eyes rolling back in your head as your lids drop. It has your toes curling and your brain going fuzzy, like static with an untuned radio station. Every nerve ending in your body has evaporated save for the ones between your thighs which receive all of the attention they could ever need.

“Tell me you’re mine, baby,” Eddie says abruptly. Your hazy mind struggles to comprehend his words but understanding seeps through, as does the memory that for as much as you love praise, your man feeds off it as well.

“I’m yours, Eddie Munson,” you gasp, the words twisting in a whine. His finger has found your clit again and it’s just unfair how ducking good it feels. You arch your back into the feeling, widening your legs to encourage him even deeper. The sight and your words has Eddie gritting his teeth.

“Oh fuck this,” he says suddenly, abruptly pulling out and flipping you onto your back. The sudden motion and the unwelcome emptiness has you dazed and your stare at the ceiling in confusion, blind to the way Eddie adjusts you. He lifts your hips up to slide a pillow under the small of your back, elevating you and extending your legs. In this new position the backs of your thighs meet the tops of his, your knees hooking on his hips while his knees dig into the mattress.

Hearing a shick shick shick sound that doesn’t correspond with the feeling of his dick re-entering you is both disorienting and upsetting, so you tip your chin to your chest in an effort to get a glimpse of him tugging on his slicked cock. However, that’s the exact moment that Eddie leans over you and fills your field of vision with his beautiful face.

“Sorry, princess. Needed to see your eyes while you said you were mine.” His words are so sweet, but he subverts the sweetness by choosing that exact moment to breach your entrance again.

“Oh god. Eddie - oh.” Your eyes slam shut to keep from crossing while you struggle up fathom the deliciousness of his first inward thrust. When his rhythm picks up, however, you feel his big warm palm press against your cheek before giving it a feather light tap to gain your attention.

“Eyes on me, pretty girl,” Eddie coos. You do as he says, squinting up at him to take in his massive, pleased smile. His hair is stuck to his temples, whether still wet from the shower or sweaty from exertion you’re unsure. All you are sure of is that fact that he is gorgeous. His eyes that shine down on you with so much love, the dimples that sink into his cheek to make space for his joy, his lips that move as they say your name. The whole picture has your brain screaming mine mine mine mine.

“That’s right, pretty girl, all yours,” Eddie agrees with a smirk. Your brain and drug addled brain must have caused you to speak your thoughts out loud but you can’t bring it in you to care. Not when Eddie is hoisting you up even higher against his elevated lap, causing your back to arch off the bed, your head and shoulders pressing down against the mattress for leverage as you bounce in his grasp.

“Jesus Christ, I want it. I want it, I w-want it Eddie…” You’re positively rambling now, scrabbling against the sheets for purchase. Seeking out your organs with legs that shake as the squeeze against Eddie’s narrow hips.

“And I want you. Wanna fuck you on the washing machine. Bend you over the - fuck - the kitchen counter while you wear one of those aprons and nothing else.” If you’re rambling, so is he. He’s so far gone in the fantasy at this point, so overwhelmed by everything he never thought he, the town freak, could want let alone have, in any capacity.

The gravel tone of his voice and the fucked out look on his face are what do you in ultimately. You squeeze down on his cock and cry out, wide eyes blind with pleasure and fingernails digging into any part of him you can reach.

“Oh god, oh Eddie!”

“Fucking shit, princess. You’re so tight, that’s - fuck!” Eddie has lost all intelligibility at this point. But that’s just fine by you, because you’re miles high now. Body tingling and seizing and floating, both from the weed and the strength of your climax.

You fall boneless back to the bed and register the fact that Eddie’s still teetering on the brink, every muscle tensed and shaking as he chases satisfaction. Your body is pushed higher up the bed with each of his escalating, punishing thrusts. He seems lost, and that’s what gives you the instinct to ground him.

Grabbing at his neck and shoulders, you pull Eddie down to you, causing him to catch himself on the mattress on either side of your head while you kiss him. It’s extremely one sided with his fat gone he is and with how much energy he has focused on pistoning into your soaked pussy. But it feels good nonetheless and you know it’s doing something for you to slide your tongue into his slack jawed mouth because it causes him to let out a groan from deep in his chest.

When you pull away you place your hands on both sides of his face and hold him there to make eye contact. His gaze is incredibly unfocused, and his brow is twisted in agony, but you keep the eye contact and make sure to enunciate when you speak.

“I’m yours, Eddie Munson,” you repeat the earlier sentiment, this time staring straight into his soul. Eddie’s entire body convulses then, just like clock work, and he buries his face into your neck and clings to you while hot ropes of his cum paint your walls. You hold him through it, even as his hips continue to rock. “There we go. That’s it.”

It takes him several moments to come back to earth, aided in his return only by the gentle feeling of your hands caressing his back and sliding through his hair. He hums into your neck, pressing a kiss to the sensitive skin there before finally pulling back to look at you.

Your kiss swollen lips are still wet. Your eyes are much to bright and your hair is positively bedraggled. All surefire proof that you have been well and thoroughly debauched. Pride swells in his chest at the sight, but it also swells in his dick, causing it to twitch inside you in spite of softening, and you inhale sharply at the feeling. Your features settle back into a relaxed smile though and Eddie kisses beneath your eye.

“That do it for you, baby?” he asks, voice ridiculously smug. You reward him with a massive smile, but your shrug throws him.

“Yeah, but we’re just getting started handsome. We have the rest of the day. Thought you wanted to keep me in your bed, filled and covered in cum?”

A deep blush stains Eddie’s cheeks and chest as you quote the dirty talk he’d spewed in a moment of passion. But, not one to back down from a challenge, he pulls his softened cock out of you slowly, pleased by the way your smirk crumples st the loss.

“You’re right, princess,” Eddie says with a grin. He drags the reddened head of his cock up from your slit over your pubic bone and to your lower belly, sure to catch it on your clit on the way up to elicit a gasp from you. He smears the mixture of your cum and his there on your belly before leaning down and licking a stripe up through the mess that has you clenching around nothing.

When Eddie looks up to find you gazing at him with mooning eyes, he takes pity on you and leans back up for a kiss. A sweaty, salty, cum-flavored kiss that’s everything you, the freak’s lover and a freak in her own right, could ever want.

It doesn’t take long before wandering hands and massaging tongues lead you to feel something stiff digging into your hip again. You reach down and graze your fingers over his leaking tip and bite your lip.

“Make me yours again, handsome, and if I can still walk afterwards I’ll make you dinner.”

Eddie shakes his head deviously at your proposal.

“We’ll be having take out.”

You frown up at him.

“But I thought you like it when I make dinner,” you begin to argue, but then you’re crying out because Eddie sheaths himself back inside you with one thrust. Your pliant, wet, satiated body welcomes him without protest this time. Eddie grasps at your curves and nudges his nose against yours before moving.

“I do love it when you make dinner, baby. But the way I intend on fucking you, you sure as hell won’t be able to walk tonight. That’s a promise.”

And your Eddie is a man of his word.

~*~

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Hope you enjoyed ♥️

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #mechanic!eddie Munson #stranger things smut

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merakiui · 2 months ago

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Mera

MERA

YOU CAN’T JUST TALK ABOUT THE OB!AZUL TAKING TALENTS WITHOUT SHOWING IT

Give me the screenshot

Also you are obligated to continue about the thought. I don’t care how many times we spoke about OB!Azul rawing us, I need more!

Sincerely,

Mer Eggs Anon

IT’S THIS, MY DEAR MER EGGS!!!!

My brain is so scrambled egg because of this new update omg…… thinking about how you have nothing of substance for Azul to take (no magic or special abilities he’s particularly interested in), but when he sees you cowering he realizes he wants you in your entirety. Even if you had magic, that’s second to what he truly desires. He’d never be able to confess outright, but with how volatile he is now there’s nothing holding him back from wrapping you up in a tentacle and holding you hostage. >:)

Deciding he’ll just take what’s most precious from you instead: your virginity. You can squirm and cry all you want; there’s no escaping the hold he has on you. Aaaaa violated by a thick tentacle while your friends and fellow classmates look on in horror as it pistons in and out of you.

Maybe,,, the messed up idea that you’re taking one for the team and distracting Azul,,, but not truly because the other tentacles can multitask. So while he’s cooing so sweetly at you, babbling over and over how you’re meant for him, you were always meant to be his, no one will ever take you because no one will ever want you after he’s through with you…… the others are just,,, thankful for your existence (morbid gratitude) because you’re something of an emotional support hole for him in this moment.

Isn’t this wonderful? He’s become so powerful now and he gets to have a pretty thing like you all to himself, to love and fuck and full always. Those other fools just get in the way, don’t they? But you needn’t fear. He takes good care of things that belong to him. They won’t lay a finger on you. :) after all, you belong to him for all eternity and he certainly has no intentions of sharing or relinquishing you.

#twisted chit chat #mer eggs anon #n/sfw #tw: noncon

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lackadaisicallizard · 1 year ago

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Sundays

Growing up, Regulus hated Sundays.

Sundays were mornings spent in church, pretending to the world that they were a perfect family. Sundays were stuffy clothes and tight ties wrapped around throats spouting nothing but lies about the Ancient and Most Noble House of Black.

Sundays were carefully coordinated games disguised as family lunches, the entire extended family coming together to outdo each other in just how well they were doing. Sundays were masterclasses in manipulation, lies and deceit.

But now, fifteen years later on the most ordinary of all days, Regulus can hear voices coming from the kitchen.

“I think that’s enough eggs, Haz, why don’t you add more flour now?”

“How much do I need to add?”

“I have no idea, just pour until it looks right.”

Sliding on his slippers, Regulus makes his way out of the bedroom and down the hall, stopping in the doorway of the kitchen. He leans against the doorframe for a moment, watching the scene in front of him.

“How’s it going there?” His husband peers into the mixing bowl that seems to have more eggs in it than any hen could feasibly lay in a year.

“The flour won’t come out of the bag,” Harry says with a frown.

“Try banging on the end of it,” James suggests and before Regulus can even consider stepping in to stop him, their son does just that. He is far too much like his father for his own good sometimes.

Flour ends up everywhere.

“Papa’s going to kill me,” Harry groans through a layer of white dust.

“Papa doesn’t have to know,” James says, “you finish the batter and I’ll clean it up.”

Harry stirs it, a puff of flour rising into the air. “I think it may be beyond saving now, Dad.”

“J’en ai marre,” their heads whip around at the sound of Regulus’ voice, both faces a similar mask of concern. “You two are useless.”

He steps into the kitchen now, holding out his hand for the bowl, which Harry passes him with a guilty expression. “I love you?”

Regulus’ own expression softens completely at that and he places the bowl on the counter before holding out his arms for his son. Harry moves into them without hesitation, being pulled into a warm embrace and leaning into his father. “Tu es la lumière de ma vie,” Regulus says, pressing a kiss to the top of Harry’s soft curls before pulling back and looking at him in the eyes. “That doesn’t mean you can get flour all over my kitchen though, compris?”

“Oui papa, désolé. We were just trying to make you breakfast in bed.”

“It’s true,” James cuts in, a smile pulling up the corner of his lips, “we know you’ve had a long week so we thought we’d make some pancakes.”

Regulus smiles back, he can’t help himself. “I’m not sure which one of you thought you could pull that off considering the great scrambled egg fiasco last month.”

“Those eggs were delicious and you know it!”

“I had to go to the store for more and make them myself.”

“… my comment still stands,” James says with a grin and Regulus rolls his eyes at his husband.

“Harry, go and fetch the chocolate chips from the cupboard and I’ll attempt to salvage this.”

Harry disappears into the pantry and as Regulus starts to decanter as much flour as he can from the very floury bowl, he feels arms wrap around him from behind.

“I’m sorry about the flour,” James’ voice is low in his ear.

Regulus hums. “I would say I’m surprised, but I’m not.”

A soft chuckle followed by lips against his hair. “I’m also sorry for ruining your Sunday, love. I know it’s the first day you’ve had off in a while.”

But the thing is, he hasn’t.

Because Regulus knows what a bad Sunday feels like. They’re ingrained into his brain.

But this right here? Making far too much batter to even out the mountain of flour that he can’t salvage from the bowl. Allowing his son to add almost an entire bag of chocolate chips to the mixture. Watching his husband smother a tower of pancakes with syrup and whipped cream. Cleaning up an incredibly messy kitchen together as a family after they’ve done.

Well, this is what Sundays are now. They’re not perfect, or proper, or in the least bit civilised.

And he loves every one.

#marauders #james potter #regulus black #jegulus #jegulus raising harry #jegulus dads #I'm obsessed with them

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firenati0n · 1 month ago

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wip wednesday <3 :)

hello friends, it has been a while...thank you for all of the tags over the last few weeks <3 i really appreciate the love. queueing this post early :)

here's a long snip from something i am writing for fun in a doc aptly titled "proposal au chapter 1 henry pov"

if you have not read proposal au and are interested in a little romcom, here is the link :) - fully posted, 54k :)

Henry has a routine, honed after years of trial and error, comfortably adopted now by him and those important to him. Typically, he wakes up, gets ready for the day, makes sure David has everything he needs in Henry's absence—which reminds him, he needs to ask Alex for more treats soon—and then walks at a moderate but comfortable pace to the 4 train. Somewhere in the middle of all this, his brain spares a moment to wonder what Alex's face will look like in the morning. If his hair will be neat with defined curls, or tousled in a cheeky nod to his night's activities. The latter makes his stomach churn, just a little. Today, however, feels different. Something is in the air. It goes— David whines at his feet before he leaves, so he takes an extra three minutes to soothe him before leaving, because regardless of what people may whisper behind his back, he's no monster. The train pulls into the platform seven minutes behind schedule, resulting in at least twenty-five percent more congestion and more harried commuters squishing into Henry's space, the air a mix of cologne and sweat and stress. Then, after walking into the office at 8:25am—too close to his regular time for comfort, requiring him to walk at brisk pace instead of a leisurely stroll—he watches as the people in the elevator don't hold the door for him, even though they absolutely saw him walking hurriedly to catch it. And then, as he's rounding the last corner between him and his blessed office at 8:28am, he gets stopped by Amy and her newest embroidery project, a floral arrangement of sorts, which is admittedly very lovely. Maybe she should work with the design team sometime for one of the book covers, she'd be an excellent asset. So, he definitely cannot be blamed for his tetchy attitude when he walks into his office at 8:32am, late and desperately in need of some bloody tea. He runs an agitated hand through his hair as he heads to his desk, a thrum of nervous energy making him restless.

xoxo roop

open tag + tagging back some friends and folks who got me over the last few months fjaskldjflasf sorry if i missed anyone! my brain is like scrambled eggs rn:

@kiwiana-writes @cha-melodius @alasse9 @jafffacakess @porcelainmortal

@run-for-chamo-miles @onward--upward @blueeyedgrlwrites @suseagull04 @judasofsuburbia

@caterpills @rockyroadkylers @seths-rogens @orchidscript @onthewaytosomewhere

@energievie @indestructibleheart @clockwrkpendrxgon @everwitch-magiks @sophie1973

@eusuntgratie @stellarmeadow @rmd-writes @fairflowered @incalamity

@anincompletelist @wordsofhoneydew @cricketnationrise @miss-minnelli @itsmaybitheway

@whimsymanaged @zwiazdziarka @milowren29 @msmarvelouswinchester @sherryvalli

@getmehighonmagic @welcometololaland @thedramasummer @priincebutt @stratocumulusperlucidus

@leaves-of-laurelin @14carrotghoul @anchoredarchangel @clottedcreamfudge @tintagel-or-cockleshells

@dumbpeachjuice @shesfromboston @miharaikko @theprinceandagcd @kj-bee

#wip wednesday #roop writes #rwrb fic #rwrb #fic: queerano #firstprince #sorry i have been so MIA #i have been Going Through It on a level never experienced before #but it is okay #we continue to persevere

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toxictigertonic · 4 months ago

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Alright, I've been cursed with new blorbos (don't worry DJ will always be my number one). Outlast trials has me in a chokehold, specifically Franco, but all the prime assets are running around in my brain causing problems. I'm subjecting you to my stupid food headcanons as a result:

COYLE

- This mother fucker drinks hot sauce. Like. Chugs the shit. You can't take him anywhere without him bringing a bottle of Tabasco.

- Takes his coffee black, but will add a little sugar if no one is looking. Can't let people know that he doesn't like plain black coffee.

- He feels like a big breakfast kinda guy, with all the fixings. If you took him to a diner that'd be what he'd get, no matter the time of day.

- Would he disgusted by energy drinks EXCEPT classic redbull. Now imagine this man hyped up on caffeine.

- Would still eat his scrambled eggs if he got shells in them. Would say some shit like "the shells put hair on your chest"

- Trusting this man to bake anything is a fire hazard, it doesn't matter if it's those pre cut cookie rolls, they're catching fire.

- Says he hates desserts then stares down a slice of pecan pie from across the room like it owes him money.

MOTHER GOOSEBERRY

- The only one I trust to cook tbh, and that's not saying much.

- If you took her to get coffee she'd get the sweetest thing on the menu (and Futterman would bitch and moan about it the whole time) or she'd get a chai latte. Futterman would demand a black coffee.

- I would trust her to make me an apple pie and then she'd put the drill in it bc the crust came out wrong.

- She feels like a woman who really likes jam. Maybe I am projecting but jam is cool.

- She will not touch an energy drink bc they taste bad to her, and bc Futterman would throw a fit about how bad they are for your teeth. No caffeine fueled death sprint for her, but based on her singing and the whole angel dust thing I don't think she needs it.

- I would make her pancakes she seems pretty cool.

- Likes the batter for desserts more than the finished products.

FRANCO

- God help us where do I begin

- On one hand I wanna say he makes some bomb ass Italian food. On the other hand I wanna say he burns cereal.

- Speaking of cereal, he's the kinda guy who let's his cereal turn to paste in the bowl before he eats it.

- Considering what we know about the wolf's milk drink, I'm frightened by this man's palette. Genuinely terrified.

- I think he would die if he tasted hot sauce. I think Coyle is aware of this fact and has plans.

- Give him an energy drink if you wanna see him start doing flips. He thinks they're gross but he's also like "fuck yeah pure sugar I love these"

- Likes his cookies so underdone that they're basically raw (me too chief)

- If you cooked him a homemade meal he'd cry while eating it. Then he'd get pissed because you made him cry.

- He's my little skrunkly doo so I'm feeding him wet plaster ❤️

If I'm wrong about anything bc it's actually stated in the lore I do not care tell Red Barrels to get their facts straight (/J I SWEAR)

I haven't had time to look at Gooseberry's or Coyle's lore so I don't know if they have some super important amazing cooking skills that I'm missing out on. Feel free to tell me if you think I'm wrong or have your own ideas about these idiots.

#leland coyle #mother gooseberry #phyllis futterman #dr futterman #il bambino #franco barbi #outlast trials #outlast #ive taken to calling Franco frankie #hes my little scrunkly and i need to dunk him in milk

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ch0k3herwithaseaview · 8 months ago

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@jegulus-microfic | april 18 sock | words: 585

tw: slight nfsw, walking in on someone, swearing

“Stop leaving your socks all over the place!” Sirius heard from the first floor.

“Stop being a dick; they’re on my side of the room!”

“Oh, trust me, I can be worse!” And then there was a loud thud, probably Regulus throwing something at James to prove that he could indeed be worse.

Sirius sighed, taking a sip of his coffee. It had been like that since the beginning of the holidays, because everyone forgot to rent a place with six rooms instead of five, so that James and Regulus could sleep separately. When the two of them found out, they reacted in two different ways: James didn’t mind (It’s not like we’ll be spending a lot of time here); Regulus, on the other hand, threw a tantrum like a five-year-old (I can’t share a bed with this asshole for the next six weeks). Unfortunately, there was no other way, since neither of them would sacrifice a comfortable bed to sleep on a couch in the living room. So for the past two weeks, all ten of them were doomed to listen to the senseless arguments the two others provided.

They were all getting tired of it—they came to Italy to rest, not to feel like children while their parents were getting divorced.

“I swear to god, if they don’t stop until tomorrow, at least one of them won’t come back to London,” Barty grumbled, handing a cup of orange juice to each one of his boyfriends. The girls hummed in agreement.

They sat at the big table in the kitchen, having breakfast. Dorcas and Marlene listed all the places they could go to today, while Lily and Pandora were serving more pancakes and scrambled eggs.

“I think the gallery and chapel sound the best,” commented Mary, throwing a grape at Peter, which he caught with his teeth.

After that, they sat in a comfortable silence, chewing on their respective meals.

The silence was almost… too comfortable.

“Do you think they killed each other?” Sirius asked, breaking the moment of peace.

“Who cares? At least they’re quiet,” Evan replied, shoving another forkful of eggs into his mouth.

Sirius turned to Remus, starting a silent conversation. After a few seconds, his boyfriend nodded and stood up, with Sirius following suit. They went upstairs, stopping in front of blue door. From behind them came quiet gasps and muffled words neither of them could understand.

The black-haired man knocked at the door gently. “Reggie? Prongs? Are you guys okay?” When, after nearly a minute, there was still no answer, he decided to enter the room.

“Guys, are you—what the fuck?” He was expecting everything: blood all over the place, black eyes, broken bones, shattered windows—everything except James holding one hand on Regulus’ throat, the other on his dick, his own probably inside Sirius' little brother.

All four of them froze, staring at each other with wide eyes, until the youngest finally grabbed the blanket laid in front of him, covering himself and James.

“Why the fuck would you come in without being allowed?” Regulus hissed.

“We thought you were dead,” Sirius answered, unnaturally calm. “I just wanted to check if you were alright.”

“Well, you know now, so get out,” the younger Black replied, making a dismissive gesture with his free hand. Sirius didn’t need much convincing to do so.

When Remus closed the door behind them, the shorter man turned to him.

“You know Moony,” he said, staring blankly. “I think I need to bleach my brain.”

#jegulus #dead gay wizards #starchaser #james potter #james x regulus #regulus black #jegulus microfic #the marauders #marauders #modern au #wolfstar #dorlene #marypandalily #partyvan #forced proximity #holiday #by: allyeardepression #500 words or more

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

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Chapter 10, Pt. 1: Happy Birthday, Javi

Summary: Javier Peña has never liked celebrating his birthday. That is, until you came into his life, and planned to give him a birthday that he will never forget. (Part 1 covers leading up to Javi's birthday and the morning of)

Word Count: 9.3K (I don't know how my peanut brain thought I could make his birthday only one chapter and keep it a reasonable length)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up, y'all), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, creampie, praise, overstimulation (if you squint), anal fingering (f receiving *runs away into the sunset*), Javi being our consent king, Javi really just loving your ass (It's his birthday, give the man what he wants), mentions of death/grief (but in a really sweet, wholesome way), mentions of food/eating, Chucho Peña once again being the world's best dad and you two having the cutest lil bonding moment, sweet tooth-rotting fluff (but it's these two, so would you expect nothing less?)

A/N: The people have spoken, so I now present to you, part 1 of Chapter 10. I'm not sure what I was thinking when I started writing this chapter, I knew it was about to be long as hell because our sweet Javi deserves the best birthday ever, and boy oh boy, is he gonna get it. Also keep in mind as you read this, that I will die on the hill that Javi loves all of you, but is 100% an ass man though and through don't make eye contact with me after reading this, man deserves his lil birthday treat More birthday fun is coming soon!!! Thanks to the very talented @wheresarizona for the inspiration of this birthday smut!

Series Masterlist Next Chapter Previous Chapter

“New boots?”

“No.”

“A new briefcase for work?”

“No.”

“A pony? A trip to the moon? A million dollars? C’mon Javi, it’s gonna be your birthday, there has to be at least something that you want!” You groaned, playfully hitting Javi’s chest as your warm bodies laid tangled together in your bedsheets, sunlight just beginning to spill through your curtains.

“As long as I get to spend my day with you, that’s all I care about, Osita.” He chuckled at your stubbornness, pressing a soft kiss into your forehead.

“Ugh, you being so sweet is making this very hard on me, you realize that?” You sighed dramatically, giving him your best grumpy face as you ran your hands through the dark brown curls of his messy morning bedhead. “Alright, you have to go get ready for work, what do you want for breakfast, handsome?”

“You.” He rasped, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you and nipping at your neck, the hairs of his mustache brushing against your skin making you squeal and squirm.

“Javi! Real food, you dummy. You’ve already eaten me out and and we’ve fucked this morning and it’s not even 7:00 o’clock yet. At this rate, your work is gonna start writing me up for you getting in later and later every day.” You giggled as you tried to wrestle your way out of Javi’s strong grip, your bodies intertwined with the sheets of your bed as Javi finally let go, giving you a long kiss before letting out an exaggerated sigh.

“I thought you said you still needed to figure out what to get me for my birthday. This works just fine, Hermosa.” He looked at you, trying to give you his best puppy eyes and pouty lips. You lovingly swatted your arm at him, shaking your head.

“You cannot use your puppy dog eyes on me like that! Your birthday still isn’t for another week, and believe me, you will get all the birthday sex you want then, but right now, you need to go get ready for work, mmmkay? Do you want scrambled eggs or sunny side up?”

“How did you know I wanted eggs?” He asked, smiling at you.

“It’s almost kind of like I know you, just a little bit. Now go, get your cute butt in the shower before your puppy dog eyes take full effect and I lose the little self control I have left.” You gave him a quick kiss as he rolled out of bed, the muscles of his back flexing deliciously as he yawned and stretched his arms above his head before making his way into the bathroom.

From the moment you had found out about Javi's birthday, he had been very adamant that you didn’t need to do anything special to try and celebrate, let alone get him any gifts. To him, it was just another day that he got older, and that no one needed to do anything to acknowledge that. Truth be told, Javi hadn’t really had anyone to celebrate his birthday with since he was a much younger man than he was now. When he was in Colombia, the only person he had told about his birthday was Steve, and with the threat of beating the shit out of him if he told anyone else, the most Javi ever got for the past decade or so was Steve’s annual bottle of birthday whisky and a phone call from his dad. He wasn’t used to anyone caring about him, let alone his birthday. Javi knew that you were a terrible liar and couldn’t keep a secret to save your life, so you had been trying your best to throw him off your tracks for the past few weeks by asking things like what he wanted for his birthday, or what he wanted to do to celebrate. Little did he know, you already had a plan in place to give him the best birthday that he’d had in a very, very long time. Today, you had to try and execute the next phase of your birthday plot, which required a little luck, and finding Javi’s cell phone.

Once you heard the water of the shower running, you knew you were in the clear. You shuffled over to Javi’s side of the bed, where his pants from the night before were still laying in a heap on the floor. Digging through his back pocket, you pulled out his cell phone, opening it up to press through the contacts page. “I really hope he only knows one Steve…” you mumbled to yourself as your finger clicked on the down arrow, scrolling through the names on the tiny screen. “Samuel H… Sargent Davis… Oh yes, here we go! Steve!” You were relieved to find there was only one Steve saved in his phone, assuming that it had to be his former partner Steve Murphy. You quickly ran out to the kitchen to grab a notepad and a pen to scribble down his number before closing his phone and folding the piece of paper, stashing it away in your nightstand.

After you had opened up to Javi about your brother, Patrick, he slowly started to reciprocate, letting you dive deeper into his past life in Colombia, beginning to share stories from his time halfway around the world. One of the things you had quickly picked up on was how much he really liked his former DEA partner, despite how many times he had told you he was the biggest pain in his ass he had ever met. So much so, that a few weeks ago, Javi had gone out of his way to call Steve, just to catch up and talk, learning that his friend had moved to the San Antonio area not too long ago, looking to get away from the hustle and bustle of Miami. The conversation had ended with them saying they should get together at some point, and the party you had been planning for Javi seemed like just the right occasion to try and reunite him with his old friend. The plan was to try and call him today while Javi was at work and pray that he really was the right Steve you were looking for, and that he and his family would be able to come down and celebrate.

Satisfied with your mission, you slipped on one of Javi’s now many shirts that lived in your drawers, his collection of clothes at your apartment seeming to grow by the week as the two of you spent more and more time together. You headed out to the kitchen, pouring yourself your mandatory cup of coffee before you got to work on breakfast.

As Javi made his way down the hall, freshly showered and suited up for work, he leaned up against the wall, enjoying the new favorite part of his morning routine. It didn’t take long for Javi to start spending practically every night at your apartment once the two of you had started dating, his presence in your home becoming an almost permanent fixture in your day to day life. It took even less time for Javi to quickly discover there were few things he loved more than coming into the kitchen after he had showered and gotten himself ready for work to find you in nothing but your underwear and one of his shirts, singing along to whatever music you had picked for the morning as you cooked breakfast. It had now become ingrained as his favorite part of his morning, taking a few extra minutes just to lean against the kitchen wall and stare, taking in everything about your sweet and sassy self that made his heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest every time he watched you dance and sing around the kitchen. This morning’s choices were his navy blue DEA shirt and Hall and Oats, already finding you singing louder than usual to “You Make My Dreams Come True.”

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning.” He chuckled, standing behind you as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin against your shoulder as he watched you scramble the eggs in the pan below you.

“Well it’s hard to be in a bad mood when you wake up to getting dicked down by your super hot boyfriend who comes out of the shower in his stupidly attractive suits for work.” You giggled as he kissed your shoulder, giving your ass a playful smack. “I could say the same for you, ya goof.”

“Like you said Osita, hard to be in a bad mood when you wake up next to the most beautiful woman in the world and come out to find her making you breakfast in nothing but your shirt. The sex part’s alright too, I guess.” You nudged your elbow into his stomach as you both laughed.

“Oh please, like you weren’t practically begging me to go for a second round this morning. Here, eat your breakfast, you horny menace.” You giggled as you put the finished eggs on a plate and handed them off to him.

Per usual, Javi had already almost inhaled his food by the time you sat down to eat with him, taking a big mouthful of your eggs as he cleared his plate. “Any plans for today, Osita?” He asked, taking a sip of coffee out of the Star Wars mug that had now become his personal favorite after had finished watching the last of the 3 movies a few weeks ago.

“Just some errands and stuff.” You tried your best to keep a straight face, knowing that you weren’t really lying about your plans for today, but you also weren’t exactly telling the truth. “Should probably start working on getting stuff ready for going back to school. I need to accept the fact that summer’s gonna come to an end at some point, as much as I don’t want it to.” You shrugged, trying to change the subject of Javi’s initial question. “Your complimentary breakfast and lunch every morning may not be as frequent once I have to go back to work, so I apologize in advance.”

“No need to apologize, baby. You’ve spoiled me for the past few months. Just means I get to wake up early and make you breakfast now.” He stood up, grabbing his plate to bring it over to the sink, stopping first to give you a kiss on the forehead. After cleaning up, Javi downed the rest of his coffee and gathered his things to head out the door, preparing for the second favorite part of his morning, giving you one last hug and kiss goodbye before leaving for work. “Have a great day, Osita. Can’t wait to see you later. I love you.” He draped his arms around you, hugging you from behind as you still sat in your kitchen chair, planting a kiss on your cheek as you turned around to face him.

“Love you too, Jav. Have a good day.” You stretched your neck towards him as he leaned down, your lips meeting softly and tenderly, leaving smiles on your parted mouths as you pulled away. Closing the door behind him, you gave him a soft smirk, the both of you beginning your internal countdown of the hours that needed to pass until you saw each other again.

As soon as you heard the door lock, you waited a moment before you ran back to your room, grabbing the piece of paper with Steve’s phone number, hoping it was early enough to try and catch him before he got to work. You took a deep breath, wanting to make a good first impression on Javi's friend, even if it was just over the phone. You punched the numbers written on your note into the keypad, sitting on the couch as you let the dial tone ring.

“Hello?” a low voice with a pronounced twang answered.

“Hi, is this um, is this Steve?” You asked, anxiously chewing on your bottom lip, crossing your fingers that you had the right number written down from Javi’s contacts.

“Yeah, this is Steve. Who’s askin’? Sorry, gimme one sec- Hey Connie, Olivia wants to know if she’s stayin’ late for soccer practice today. Okay, yeah, I’ll remind her. Hey sorry, tryin’ to get the girls off to summer camp and daycare or God knows where. Jesus, I cannot wait for school to start again. Sorry, who’d you say you were?” You let out a little sigh of relief hearing Connie and Olivia’s names, knowing you for sure had the right Steve.

“I’m um, I’m Javi’s girlfriend.” You introduced yourself.

“Well I’ll be damned. You really are real.” You could hear him chuckle to himself through the other end of the phone. “Javi wouldn’t shut up about you when we talked a few weeks ago. I’d never thought I’d live to see the day I saw that man so in love. What can I help ya with?” You smiled to yourself, blushing at the fact Javi hadn’t talked to Steve in months and you were the thing he was most excited to bring up.

“Well, I heard from Javi last time the two of you talked that you moved to San Antonio not too long ago. I don’t know if you remember, but Javi’s birthday is coming up, and I’m trying to throw him a surprise birthday party and I wanted to invite you. I’m sure he’d love to see you- Connie and your daughters, too. The party’s going to be Saturday the 16th at 3:00 at his dad’s ranch! I completely understand that it’s a big ask, and kind of last minute, but I figured I’d at least try!”

“Awh shit, it is, isn’t it. I do owe that old man a few years worth of birthday whiskey. Lemme go talk to my wife real quick, hang on.” You heard him set the phone down as you held your phone up between your ear and shoulder, grabbing your notepad to write down a list of things you needed to get today while you waited for Steve’s response. “Hey, you still there?” You heard his voice again through the receiver.

“Yup, still here!”

“Looks like that old man’s about to have some more birthday guests. Con just wants to make sure it’s really okay if we bring the girls.”

“Absolutely! Lots of friends and family are coming, so there will be plenty of other kids there, too! Thanks Steve, I know this will really mean a lot to him.”

“Perfect. I sure do miss that asshole. Thanks for the invite. I guess we’ll see you on the 16th.”

“Thanks again, Steve!”

“Of course. And hey- I wasn’t jokin’ when I said that he wouldn’t shut up about you. You got him head over heels in love. I think I could count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen that grumpy bastard smile and I could practically hear him grinnin’ through the phone. Glad to know he found someone who makes him happy.” You could hear the other end of the line click as Steve hung up the phone, leaving you with nothing but an ear to ear grin as you grabbed your list and got yourself ready for the day.

You had really been putting Javi’s lie detector skills to the test the past few weeks, going out during the day to meet with Chucho at the ranch to work together to plan Javi’s surprise party. Javi’s dad was absolutely thrilled with the idea after you had brought it up in secrecy one night when you and Javi had gone over for dinner, and was enthusiastic as can be to try and help you make the day a special memory for his son. Today was the last day you could be over at the Peña ranch to help with preparations without raising too many suspicions from Javi, losing out on your excessive free time as you needed to start preparing for the beginning of the new school year. Heading in with your arms full from your massive trip you had just taken for party food and decorations, you walked into the Peña home looking for Chucho.

“Hey Chucho, it’s me!” You shouted, kicking your shoes off at the door as you balanced your grocery bags in your arms.

“Hola, Mija! I’m in the kitchen!” He shouted from across the house, his tone warm and joyful. You grunted as you set down your bags on the table, finding Chucho in his usual spot at the stove, cooking something for the two of you to eat as you talked party details.

“What’s on the menu today, chef? It smells delicious!” You smiled, unpacking the groceries as Chucho wiped his hands on his apron, waddling over to help you.

“Chilaquiles. Figured it’s still early enough for breakfast food, and I know it’s your favorite.” He chuckled to himself as he watched you pull more and more items out of the brown paper bags. “Dios mio, mija. Did you buy the entire store?”

“It feels like it. With how many people we have coming, I don’t even know if this is going to be enough! Steve is coming, too! And his wife and daughters. I just called him today. I really think Javi’s gonna be excited to see him.” You grinned, your heart feeling full thinking about how many people wanted to come celebrate Javi on his birthday.

“Oh, estupendo! (Wonderful!) He will be thrilled. Wait, how did you manage to invite him without Javier finding out?” He raised an eyebrow at you as he walked back over to the stove to turn off one of the burners.

“I have my ways.” You smirked as you gave your shoulders a little shrug, organizing the items on the table.

“Chiflado.” (Crazy). He snickered, plopping an egg on each of your plates over the fried tortillas and sauce. “That one can be our word for the day. It’s a good one. Here, eat, mija.” He smiled, passing a plate over to you as you sat down at the table, Chucho pulling out a chair to join you. Ever since you started meeting with Chucho a few weeks ago, you had asked him if he would help you work on your Spanish, knowing how important it was to Javi and his family. You cared so deeply for both the Peña men who were now a part of your life, and the least you could do was learn more of the language so deeply ingrained in their identities. Like most things you asked Chucho for help with, he was enamored by the idea, your request practically bringing him to tears. Since then, he’d been helping you learn more words and phrases, picking one to focus on each time you meet.

“Chiflado.” You repeated, taking a bite full of your food. “What does that one mean?”

“Someone who is crazy, a little bit nutty. It’s a good one for you, mija, and Javier.” You both laughed at each other, enjoying his use of the word.

“That is a good one. Good one for me and you today since this is the last chance we have to plan together before the party.”

“Es la verdad.” (It’s the truth.) So tell me, Chiflado, what’s our plan for today?” He winked at you as he set down his fork over his already cleared plate.

“Well, I was thinking you could work on food, and I could help with decorations, since it’ll involve a lot of getting up and down off of chairs, and before you can tell me you’d be just fine, I don’t need to hear you whisper “Punta madre, me dulele las rodillas (Motherfucker, my knees hurt.) all day when I could have just done it for you.” You looked at him sternly, knowing that Javi had definitely inherited his stubbornness from his father, often leaving you in Chucho in a battle of iron wills over helping each other.

“Fine, fine, fine.” He swatted his hand at you. “Just tell me soy un anciano (I’m an old man) and move on.” The both of you broke from your stubbornness, laughing playfully at one another. Chucho grunted as he stood up, outstretching his hand to take your plate back to the sink. You stood up out of your chair, pushing it behind you as you let out a quiet, nervous breath. You had been working up the courage to ask Chucho the question that had been lingering in the back of your mind for the past few weeks. Every time you tried, you’d chickened out, but with only one last meeting between the two of you before Javi’s birthday, you knew you had to do it now.

“Um, there is uh, one more thing I wanted to ask for your help with, if it’s okay.” You said shyly, Chucho turning his head in confusion at your now meak voice.

“Of course, Mija. Cómo puedo ayudarte? (How can I help you?).

“I- I wanted to know if Javi had a favorite food his mom used to make him before she passed. I really wanted to surprise him and make it for his birthday. But I know how special Lucia’s recipes are to you, and if you don’t want me to make it, I totally understand. I’m sorry if I’m overstepping, I wanted to ask for your help since-”

Before you could finish, Chucho was standing with his arms outstretched, tears welling in his eyes, as he pulled you in for a hug, tightly wrapping you in his grasp. “Oh Mija.” He whispered between gentle sobs. “I would love nothing more.” He took a step back from you, hands still grasping your shoulders as the wrinkles of his worn face crinkled from his smile. “She would have loved you, Mija. She would have loved you so much. I know she is smiling down on us, knowing the joy you have brought to our sweet Javier’s life. Dios la bendiga (God bless her), all she ever wanted was for him to be happy. It brings me peace to know she can rest a little easier, seeing the love and happiness you bring to our hijo. I know Javier is so thankful he found you, but know I am just as thankful, too.”

You could feel the tears beginning to stream down your cheeks as Chucho spoke. You wished you had words to tell him how much it meant. That you were so grateful to be a part of Javi’s life, so thankful that Chucho had loved and accepted you, like you were one of his own from the moment that you two had met. You wished you could tell him how honored you were that he thought so highly of you, when all you wanted to do was just make Javi happy. You wished you had those words, but right now, they couldn’t make it out. The best you could do through your tears was pull Chucho back in for a hug, letting out a shaky whisper.

“Thank you, Chucho. For everything.”

He pulled back once more, the both of you wiping the tears off your wet cheeks as you smiled at one another. “Of course, mija. Of course.” He paused for a moment to compose himself before wiping his hands on his apron with a mischievous grin. “Tears won’t taste any good in our stew. C’mon, let’s get cooking.”

Chucho pulled the well loved recipe box out of the shelf above the stove, flipping through its contents to pull out an index card covered in red sauce stains and tears around its edges. “Here we are. Pozole de pollo. Javier’s favorite dish. This is the last one from Lucia’s box I've yet to make.” He smiled to himself, gently holding the tattered recipe card in his hands before passing it off to you.

“Why haven’t you made it yet?” You asked curiously as you ran your finger up and down the worn recipe card.

“It’s the one that reminds me the most of her. Just haven’t been able to bring myself to make it. Now, I couldn’t be more excited to.” He beamed at you, grin stretched from ear to ear.

The two of you quickly got to work, Chucho walking you through each step, mentally noting to yourself all of the little details he pointed out as you worked your way through the directions. You wanted to make sure that you didn’t miss a thing, feeling the need to do the special recipe as much justice as you could. While waiting for things to boil and simmer, the two of you found yourself chatting away as you chopped the rest of the vegetables you needed for your sauce and garnishes.

“You know, pozole de pollo was the only thing Javier ever wanted to eat when he came home from college.” Chucho chuckled, chopping up the rest of the garlic he had in front of him. “Could eat a whole batch of it in a day, a bowl for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Even in the dead heat of summer.”

“I believe it, that man is an eating machine.” You giggled, pulling out the chiles you’d finished soaking for your sauce. “Did he know he wanted to work for the DEA when he graduated?”

“I don’t know if he knew that, but he did always want to have some sort of job where he felt like he was making a difference. Always had a strong sense of right and wrong, and always wanted to help others. Lucia and I weren’t thrilled when he got the job, no parent wants to think about their child in danger. But you know as well as I do that our Javier is a stubborn man, and if he wants something, there is no stopping him until he gets it. That’s how I knew he was in love with you. Wouldn’t stop talking about you from the moment he met you. For goodness sake, he woke up at 5 in the morning to build a fence just to see you. He’s a man who knows what he wants.” You tried your best to hide the red of your blushing cheeks as Chucho blended the pozole sauce. “That’s how I know he is counting down the days until he can ask you to marry him.”

You just about dropped your ladle into the pot of boiling broth you were now stirring, hoping Chucho hadn’t heard the audible gasp you had made. “What… What did you say?” You asked as you gulped, trying to keep your cool.

“You heard what I said, Mija.” Chucho smirked, clearly enjoying your current flustered state. “Don’t worry, he hasn’t said anything to me… Yet. But like I said, when Javier knows what he wants, he won’t stop until he gets it. I’m sure if I asked him, he’d say he’ll give it a year, but I give it 6 months, tops.”

This time, the ladle you had been white knuckle grasping had now fallen to the floor, your face in absolute shock as your hand covered your face. “Wait, do you, are you… Chucho, are you being serious?”

“Mija, all I know is that Javier está enloquecido por ti y el te ama con todo su corazón. (Javier is crazy for you and loves you with his whole heart) and I am not getting any younger. I need some nietos (grandchildren) to spoil before I get too old.” His grin now even bigger as he chuckled to himself, watching your cheeks turn bright pink, taking every ounce of self restraint you had in you to keep yourself from smiling like an idiot. You bit down on your bottom lip, Chucho letting you have a few moments of peace as you turned back around to the stove to stir the pozole. Chucho just kept shaking his head and laughing to himself, almost as if he could hear the squeals of delight screaming in your head through the quiet silence of the kitchen as you continued cooking.

“Alright Mija, what do you think?” Chucho said, handing over a spoon now that the pozole was finally finished, simmering in its pot on the stove. You scooped some up, slurping down the warm broth as Chucho followed suit, letting out a satisfied hum.

“It’s delicious. No wonder it’s Javi’s favorite. What do you think? Is it okay?” You looked at him nervously, waiting for his response as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Just as good as I remember it, if not better. Javier will love it, almost as much as he loves you.” He winked, wrapping one of his arms around your shoulder, smiling at the stew and then back up at you. “I have a feeling this will be the best birthday that he’s had in a very long time, thanks to you. Now, what do you say you listen to this old man swear at his knees as he helps you put up these decorations?”

You couldn’t believe it. Javi’s birthday was finally here, and everything had gone off without a hitch. Chucho had called one last time yesterday to let you know that everything was ready for the party, you had successfully hidden all your gifts and surprises in the apartment without them being discovered, and best of all, Javi hadn’t suspected a thing. You had made sure the night before to set your alarm to its quietest volume, praying that Javi wouldn’t hear and would sleep in long enough to let you put up some decorations in the apartment before making him breakfast and giving him a proper birthday good morning. Seemingly unstirred by your alarm, you tiptoed out of bed, trying your best not to wake Javi as he snored face down into his pillow. You grabbed some clothes before carefully closing the door behind you, fingers crossed that you could at least get another 30 minutes of sleep out of him. You quickly got to work taping the streamers and banners along the ceiling, topping off your decor with the balloons you had someone managed to hide in your coat closet. After setting out your gifts on the table, you quickly got to work on breakfast, indulging in your own family’s birthday tradition of confetti pancakes, which were really just pancakes with sprinkles and whip cream, but given Javi’s insatiable sweet tooth, you were sure they’d be a hit. You started with pancakes, along with the bacon and eggs, so focused on trying to get things done as quickly as possible, you hadn’t heard your bedroom door creek open down the hallway. Javi’s footsteps were soft and sleepy, the carpet of your apartment floors drowning out the sound as he finally stepped into the living room, speechless at what he saw.

“Osita…” His voice shook, mouth hanging half open in shock as he looked around at the colorful streamers and balloons that filled the apartment. He took another step further into the living room, now noticing the handmade banner that read “Happy Birthday, Javi!” in your cute, neat handwriting. He was still at a loss for words as he turned the corner in the kitchen to find you, finishing the last of your pancakes for the breakfast feast you had put together for him.

“No, go back to bed! Don’t look, I’m almost done! You didn’t see anything!” You ran towards him, trying your best to turn Javi around and force him back towards the bedroom. You pushed against his chest, trying to get him to move as he stood there for a moment before wrapping his arms around you, still taking in everything that you had set up for him.

“Baby… Did you… Is this… Is this all for me?” He asked, eyes glistening with joy, as he turned his head down to you, smiling in his grasp.

“No, I just really wanted to celebrate my birthday early. Yes, of course it’s for you. But right now, I need you to go back to bed for like 5 more minutes so I can finish and get my first present ready, pretty please?” You grinned at the tender expression on his face as he tried to process that you had really gone out of your way to do all of this for him.

“Baby, I told you, you didn’t need to get me anything, you already did so much, you don’t need to-”

“Javier Peña. It is your birthday. I want nothing more than to shower you with love and gifts and affection, but only if you go back into the bedroom and wait a teeny tiny bit longer and pretend it’s not your birthday yet for another few minutes.” You giggled, now shoving back into him, attempting to push his broad body down the hallway. He finally gave in, throwing his hands up, laughing as you guided him back into the bedroom, giving him a quick peck on the lips before closing the door behind him.

As promised, it didn’t take long for you to get yourself ready for Javi’s first present of the day, slowly opening back up the bedroom door to find Javi laying down in the bed, elbow resting on the mattress with his hand under his chin holding up his head. “You ready for it to be your birthday now?” You giggled, peeking your head through the crack of the open door.

“Yes, baby, I’m ready for it to be my- Oh, fuck me.” By the time you had made it through the doorway, Javi was sitting upright in bed, jaw just about on the floor as he watched you enter the room. You stood at the end of the bed in a lacy, black lingerie set- the bustier hugging against every curve of your body, its garters holding up the stockings pulled up your thighs, topped off with a strappy lace thong. You could hear how heavy Javi was breathing as he watched your every move towards him, his tongue darting out between his lips as he looked you up and down, soaking up every inch of you.

“Happy Birthday, Javi.” You winked, making your way towards the edge of the bed, watching as Javi’s eyes grow darker with lust. Your sweet voice was enough to already make his cock start to twitch, but that, paired with the fact you were all dressed up just for him had him half hard in seconds.

“Hermosa… Fuck… You look fucking incredible. Is this all for me, baby? Do I get to unwrap you like the pretty little present you are?” He rasped, practically climbing over the edge of the mattress to pull you into bed with him. He grabbed you by the hand, ushering you up onto the bed as you straddled over his lap, feeling how hard and heavy his dick had grown beneath you in his boxers. His hands slid along your sides, fingers tracing over the lacy fabric before he reached down to grab a handful of your ass, kneading your soft flesh between the strong grip of his fingertips.

“I don’t know… I thought you said that you didn’t want any presents.” You teased, Javi giving you a playful smack on the ass for your witty remark.

“If this is the only present I get to unwrap for the rest of my life, I’ll die a fucking happy man.” He mewled, grabbing your hips as he pushed you deeper into his lap, groaning as you rolled your hips against his cock, straining against the fabric of his underwear.

“Don’t worry, this one’s just the first of many. You can unwrap me however you want, birthday boy. Anything you want, I’m all yours.” Your words made him shutter as he looked up at you, a curious smirk growing under his mustache.

“Anything?” He whispered, licking his lips, his eyes filled with want and desire.

“Anything.” You cooed, raising your eyebrows at him.

“Fuck me…” He took one more look at you before grabbing you and flipping you on to your back, making you squeal. He kissed his way down your body, hot, wet presses of his lips against your skin and lace, covering you from your chest to your stomach. His hands ran up and down the meat of your thighs, fingers toying with the ends of your stockings before wrapping his arms under your legs, yanking you closer to him. He grazed his fingers over your thong, the fabric already soaked, as he pushed it to the side, revealing the slick pooling along your entrance.

“Jesus, Osita, haven’t even touched you yet and look at how wet you are for me. Fuck, I need to taste you, baby.” Spreading your legs open wider, he dove into your pussy like a man starved, feverishly lapping you up, tongue swirling and pressing against your already throbbing clit. It wasn’t long until his two fingers pushed inside you with ease, making you gasp as your back arched along the bed, whimpering at the way his mouth and hands worked against your heat.

“Javiiiii…” You whined, bucking your hips towards his face, already feeling the arousal starting to pool in your belly at the way he knew just how to make you come undone. “Baby, you feel so good, fuck, Javi, fuck.”

He removed his mouth for a moment, his breath hot against your sensitive bundle of nerves as he glanced up at you in delight. “Yeah? It feels good, Hermosa? Gonna be a good girl and cum all over my face, let me taste that sweet fucking pussy?” You nodded frantically, practically feeling his smirk against you as his fingers curved, hitting the sweet spot inside you that had the heat building at the base of your spine. He licked long, flat strokes of his tongue against your clit, his hand thrusting deeper into you, moaning his name over and over as you squirmed underneath him, his free arm draping over your hips, holding you in place. You could feel how tightly you were beginning to clench around his hand, your pussy fluttering as you felt yourself reaching your high.

“Javi, Javi, Javiiiii.” His name the only words forming as your brain short circuited, coming closer and closer to your end.

“Keep saying my name, baby. I love the way you say it. Don’t hold back, Hermosa, let me hear how good it feels when I make you cum.” It only took a few more thrusts of his hand before you snapped, crying out his name as your pleasure rolled through you, your fists grasping at the bed sheets. You cunt clenched around him, squeezing his fingers as they still pulsed inside you, nowhere close to easing from their usual pace after Javi watched you fall apart beneath him. You could feel yourself panting, worked up and on the edge of overstimulation.

“Gonna give you one more, Osita. Doing so good for me, pretty girl. I know you can take it, baby, just a little bit more.” He purred, giving you a smug look before barely pressing his thumb against your clit, making you cry out from his touch, so sensitive and worked up from your first orgasm. The pad of his thumb pushed just a little bit harder, circling around your mound as you felt yourself on the brink of falling apart once more. Already so close, he slipped a third finger into your heat, the sweet stretch of his digits inside you making you lose yourself once more. Your moans were swallowed by his lips as he leaned down to kiss you, finally slowing his pace before removing his hand, leaving your legs trembling and breathing heavy as you tried to compose yourself. “Such a good girl, taking me so well.” He hummed, cradling the jaw of your blissed out face as he brought his other hand to your mouth, his fingers drenched and glistening from your slick. “Open.” His thumb pulled at your bottom lip as you complied. “Taste how sweet you are for me, baby. Sweetest fucking pussy I’ve ever had, and it’s all fucking mine.” Your tongue swirled around his fingers as they rested in your mouth, sucking the tangy taste of you off of them before pulling back out.

“It’s all yours, Javi. It’s all yours.” You moaned, finally catching your breath enough to form a coherent thought.

“You really meant it, Osita? Anything I want?” His hands running up and down the length of your body, taking in how beautiful you looked beneath him, lace covered and blissed out, all for him.

“Anything you want.” You repeated, the sweet brown gaze of his eyes locking with yours.

“Hands and knees, baby.” He smirked, grabbing you by the waist as he pulled you up, propping you on all fours as he shuffled behind you on the bed, smacking your ass before gently massaging your flesh. “I fucking love you so much, you know that? Fuck, I’m so lucky. So lucky that you’re mine, all dressed up just for me, Jesus Christ, you’re fucking perfect.” You whimpered as you felt him line himself up with your entrance, running his tip through your folds, the lips of your pussy still soaked and puffy from your last two orgasms.

“Fuck, I love you too Jav-ahhhhhhh.” You gasped as you felt Javi bottom out inside of you, the angle of him pushing himself into from behind always stretching you in a way that had you speechless. He paused for a moment before slowly beginning to rock his hips, only pushing himself halfway in, savoring how sweet you felt. It wasn’t long before his thrusts became deeper, his cock brushing against your cervix, punching into the spot that had your vision going white, leaving you trembling and breathless. You could hear how wet you were, the sounds of him pounding in and out of your weeping pussy on top of the grunts and whimpers between you two had the room sounding borderline pornagraphic.

Despite how amazing it felt as he pumped in to you, there was a part of you that was surprised that fucking you from behind was all he wanted after you had given him free reign for his birthday. Javi loved your ass, and that was putting it lightly. The man worshiped it, and being on your hands and knees was a position you found yourself in frequently in the bedroom, so you were surprised that this was his choice. That was until you felt his fingers reaching under your thong, pulling the lace even further to the side, the wet spit of his mouth on your ass, his hand creeping further down the base of your spine until it stopped there.

Oh.

You felt his thumb press against the tight ring of your muscle, swirling his spit as you shuttered, cunt clenching at the thought of what he was about to do. You knew why he wanted you like this. Oh, fuck.

“Is this okay?” He asked softly, gently pressing the pad of his thumb more firmly against your tight hole, making you whine in delight.

You nodded desperately, your response practically incoherent as it babbled from your brain, falling off your tongue. “Yes, oh my god, Javi.”

“Osita, tell me if it’s too much. If it’s too much I’ll stop right away, okay? Promise you’ll tell me?” God, this man was about to put his thumb in your ass and he still found a way to make it sweet.

“I promise.”

“Okay.” He kept his thrusts inside you steady as you felt his thumb breach inside, making you whine. Audibly whine. His thumb was barley in you and it felt so tight, the feeling of how full you felt making you wetter by the second. “Relax baby, it’s okay, I’ve got you. Doing so good for me, sweet girl.” He hummed, his praise deep and horse. You took a deep breath, feeling yourself relax as he pushed his thumb in further, making you whimper as you felt your clit absolutely throbbing with each press of his digit inside you. “You okay?” He asked, leaning over you, nipping at your shoulder as you shook your head yes, your brain an absolute loss for words. You gasped as you felt his thumb exit, being replaced by his two fingers pushing deeper into your tight hole. You felt so full, the size of his cock and the thickness of his fingers had you whimpering, clawing at the bed sheets underneath you. The thrusts of both his dick and hand slowly began to pick up their pace, feeling yourself throbbing in delight from the stimulation. It was like you could feel every nerve in your body screaming in pleasure, you were barely hanging on by a thread, painfully close to your end. All it took was the slightest press of the heel of Javi’s palm against your clit before you were screaming out his name once more.

“Javi, fuck, fuck oh my god, Javi, I’m gonna-ahhhhhAHHH.”

Your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, leaving every inch of your body trembling, practically seeing stars from how hard you came. That was all it took for Javi to follow suit. He was already so worked up from the image of you, riled up and moaning his name, that watching you cum as hard as you did sent him over the edge instantly. It took all of his self restraint to not come from the moment you had agreed to let him play with your ass. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it more often than not, wanting to pleasure you in any way he could, and now that you had let him, it was game over. With only a few more pumps, he found himself rapidly pounding into you as he chased his own high.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna come too. Did so good for me, my good girl taking me so well. My fucking perfect girl. Quiero estar contigo para siempre, Osita. Te quiero con toda mi alma. (I want you forever, Osita. I love you with all my soul.) Fuck, I’m-” You could feel his cock throbbing as he pulsed inside you, spilling deep into your walls, milking himself of ever last drop as he slumped over your body, your chests rising and falling together. After catching his breath, Javi pulled out, the mixture of the two of you running still down your thighs as he quickly got up to go wash his hands and grab a towel, laughing as he returned from the bathroom to find you face down in the bed, sprawled out across the mattress. “You okay, baby?” He shook his head as he sat down on the bed next to you, running his hand across your back.

“Ho-ly shit.” You rasped, face pressed against your pillow before lifting it up to look over at Javi. “Javi… holy fuck. I don’t think I’ve ever came so hard in my entire life. I think I’m dead. I think I died and went to heaven.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous, Osita.” He chuckled at your dramatics, gently wiping the cloth against you and cleaning you up before tossing it in the hamper. “To be fair, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard either. Happy fucking birthday to me. This is the best birthday I’ve ever had and it’s not even 10:00 AM yet. God, I love you.” You sat up as he grabbed your face, pulling you in for a long, deep kiss, a grin spreading across his lips as your mouths met.

“Well then you’re in luck, your day’s just gettin’ started, birthday boy.” You winked, playfully pinching his cheek as the two of you laughed.

“Does this mean I finally get to go out and see the rest of the apartment now?” Javi smiled, now remembering all the decorations you had set up for him around the house that he had only half appreciated in his shocked and sleepy state.

“Absolutely. I’ve got breakfast and more presents for you too.”

“God, what the fuck did I ever do to deserve you?”

“I could ask myself the same thing.”

Your hunch about the confetti pancakes was absolutely correct, losing track of how many Javi had eaten, considering you’d stopped counting after 4. To you, the decorations that you had set up around the apartment were just a fun touch to help celebrate, but to Javi, it was about the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for him. It almost brought you to tears seeing how excited Javi was that you had got him balloons, streamers, a handmade banner that he couldn’t seem to stop complimenting, even when you insisted that all you did was just write a little more neatly than usual. Javi meant everything to you, and the fact that you were able to bring him so much joy from something so small made your heart burst at the seams. If he was this excited from just decorations, you were really gonna have to ease him into the rest of the day.

“You ready for your presents, or do I need to make another batch of pancakes?” You laughed as Javi finished off what had to have been his 6th pancake, squirting the can of whipped cream in his mouth to top it off.

“Baby, I told you, you didn’t have to get me anything. You’ve already done more than enough for me.” He said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he leaned back in his chair.

“Let me rephrase- I bought you presents and I’m giving them to you. Can I please give them to you now?” You folded your arms over your chest as you gave Javi a stubborn look.

“Yes, fine. Thank you. They better not be fucking expensive, you don’t need to be spending that kind of money on me.” He grumbled as you handed him over the first gift, slowly taking the tissue paper off the top of the bag.

“Will you stop being such a party pooper and just open your damn gifts? I’m a big girl, I can spend my money how I want, and I wanted to spend it on you.” You sassed as he shook his head, pulling out a silky blue and red checkered tie out of the gift bag. He smiled as he picked it up, running his hands over the fabric.

“This is really, really nice, thank you, Osita.”

“You’re welcome. I figured it’d look good with any of your suits, and that you’d look handsome in it, regardless. Okay, next one!” You grinned, handing him over the next box, waiting excitedly for his reaction as he ripped off the wrapping paper. As Javi peeled the rest of it back, his eyes widened as he looked at the box before looking back up at you in shock.

“Osita…” He stared at you for a moment, just holding the box in his hands, almost as if he was refusing to see what was inside.

“Will you just open it, please?” You pleaded, having a feeling this was going to be his reaction to your gift. Carefully, he took the lid off the box, his head shaking as he saw what was inside. Gently, he pulled the silver watch out, holding it in his hands as he stared at you with those big, brown puppy dog eyes.

“Baby… This is fucking nice. Like, so nice. Do you know how expensive these are? You didn’t need to do this, I can’t-”

“You have been constantly complaining about how your watch does work and you needed a new one. I know it's expensive, but it’s your birthday and you deserve it. And don’t you dare try and tell me to return it, I will come over and put that watch on your wrist myself if I have to.” You raised an eyebrow at him before he could rebuttal, biting down on his tongue as he smiled, slipping on the watch. He got up from his seat, cupping your face, kissing you deeply and tenderly.

“Thank you, Osita. You’re amazing. I don’t deserve any of this. I just- thank you.” His thumb rubbed along your jaw as he cradled your face, practically feeling the genuine joy and appreciation radiate from him.

“There’s one more thing I still have to give you.” You beamed, trying your best to contain your excitement for the final gift you had for Javi.

“Baby, there’s more? You already got me way too much, please-”

You cut him off, holding out the tiny black box that you had been hiding behind you, gesturing down at it for him to take it, your hands shaky as you nervously passed off the gift. With a sigh, Javi took it, undoing the bow you had tied as he opened the package, looking at it with confusion.

“A key?” He asked, puzzled by the present.

“Go take it and stand out in the hallway.” You requested, Javi complying but still utterly confused as to what was happening. Javi stood on the opposite side of your doorway facing you, giving him a little wave before closing it on him and clicking the lock.

“Osita, what is happening?” You heard him laugh through the other side of the door.

“Use the key!” You insisted, smiling to yourself as you heard the doorknob rattle, Javi twisting it open as he walked back into the apartment. You grinned at him in anticipation, hoping that he had caught on, but Javi still appeared to be completely oblivious to the point of gift.

“It’s a key to your apartment?” He questioned, a confused look still spread across his face.

“Mmmhmmmm.” You nodded, over dramatically, waiting for it to click with him.

“Baby, I’m really sorry, I don’t understand.” He laughed, running his hand over his face, shaking his head. You put your hands on your hips, looking at him, bewildered how he still had no idea what the key meant.

“Wow, I really thought your detective skills would have come into play on this one, Agent Peña, but I guess not. Javi. It’s your own key to the apartment. I- I want you to move in with me.”

“Osita… Are you… Baby, are you serious?” He stood there frozen in shock, his jaw hanging open as he processed what you had just said.

“I mean, only if you want to, I know it’s kinda fast and I don’t want you to feel pressured, but I- OH!” You shrieked as Javi locked his arms under your thighs, hoisting you up as you wrapped your legs around the small of your back, draping his arms around his shoulders. You could feel his smile against your skin as he peppered you with kisses, making you giggle and squeal as he spun you around the living room.

“You’re really being serious?” He beamed at you, his grin stretching wide across his face as the tears welled behind his eyes.

“Of course I’m being serious, ya goof. I love you, Jav.” Your face mirrored his as your happy tears streamed down your cheeks, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you hugged him tightly, Javi squeezing you closer to his chest as he held you.

“I love you so much. Fuck, of course I’ll move in with you. There’s nothing else I’d rather do than spend every day coming home to you. Me haces muy feliz. Eres más de lo que merezco. Tú y yo juntos por siempre, Osita."(You make me so happy. You’re more than I deserve. It’s you and me forever, Osita.)

"Tú y yo contra el mudo, Javier Peña." (You and me against the word, Javier Peña.)

Taglist: @cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed

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therealslimshakespeare · 10 months ago

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🍸 Harry Crosby headcanons

18+ -helluva lot of nsfw under the cut but interspersed with a lotta fluff and domesticity…to me that’s the appeal of this man, cannot be separated one from the other: the unassuming sweater wearing vet at the block party is also a man of hidden depths.

Long promised and woefully incomplete, the word count was getting out of hand so I’m tossing it out, there’s more where this came from. Not edited so, apologies

Entirely co-written by myself and my comrogue @crazymadpassionatelove , enhanced and bedazzled by chats with @ab4eva including special additions from other guests who commented under my announcement post, credit is given at each specific point for their contributions

|screencap cred grabbed from: @hawkinsfuller

First off let me say it’s been ages since I read A Wing and A Prayer. I remember loving it, loving him and I cannot stress how much I respect and admire the real Harry Crosby and his Jean, the Missus of our dreams.

This is purely for fun, a heavy mix of both Boyle’s portrayal and a tad of Crosby’s real life vibes as taken from his accounts by me. Sometimes you gotta take historical figures’ virtues in one area -say navigation and math- and translate it to the more suggestive aspects of life -say, how to find a clitori- *gunshot*

Because this man’s biography is the most oral-leaning, drink-your-respect-women-juice book ever. Ok, almost ever. For a wwii book at least. Uhem so -I am prejudiced, sue me.

See, sometimes it’s the quiet, stressed ones with a self consuming desire to please who have the cozy sweaters and the attentive appreciation for your interests and the stubby fat schlongs and the propensity to keep you in suburban comfort all your days

The compulsive drive to call you “button” and be on time for church and thank you for your scrambled eggs each morning with eager kitchen countertop oral before waking you children up with annoyingly soft catchphrases they’ll recite fondly at his funeral: “rise and shine” etc

Also back to the perfectly respectable schlong for just a moment -This is a Thing! Justice for the perfectly adequate plug stoppers, not everyone needs a rolling pin, who can resist giving head when the head is the same gorgeous color as his lips?!

Mr Crosby is skipping off to lecture college kids about literature post-war with a pep in his step that you put there without fail, you can’t help it, it’s as essential as the matching “his and hers” coffee mugs you bought during your honeymoon

Cookies slightly burned cuz you’re busy as bunnies in the bathroom while the kids ride bikes in the cul-de-sac is a Crosby staple

This is a man who as husband keeps you well supplied with mixers and microwaves and cute little nighties and also loves your brain -SCORE.

Loves to gift you with bath oil and fun stuff to smell good. He's into lavender. It benefits him in the end, loves to sit on the edge of the tub and just talk with you for ages

Croz’s go-to distresser is to have Jean sit on his face until his vision spots

She knows as soon as he walks in the door. Fixes him a Shirley Temple, takes him by the hand to the bedroom and …..boom.

De—stressed

As for the ptsd nightmares? He just barely starts to thrash in his sleep and Jean is rolling that man over and taking matters into her own hands

You’re Jean now, you do realize that don’t you? It was never ever going to be anyone but Jean

This man leaves love letters on your pillow, in your apron pocket, in the dash of your car anywhere at all that you’re likely to be. All of this even though he’s gonna be home by six that evening.

Also, hear me out: lots of evenings he just lays down next to you for ages, facing each other on your sides, absentmindedly mapping your body with his calloused palms and fingering you for ages while talking about Persuasion.

Actually gives a shit about your opinions too, and not in the way of wanting to argue them. When you make a good point his eyes get even droopier and he grabs your neck and…

“You're one smart cookie Mrs Crosby”

“My clever, wise, beloved…”

Honestly though, deep connections and the ability to go vulnerable, and if those moments are often concluded with little laughs to shake off the moment -it doesn’t diminish it

Can actually talk about dying to you, not in a morbidly preoccupied way, but he can face it and admit it and be vulnerable enough to acknowledge the likelihood

Then get on with what needs doing

He appreciates how well you grow to know him, and he in turn makes a lifelong study of you

Also, this man is so highly attuned to your well being.

Yes you have to put up with his stress but for you? He will man-up repeatedly and without thought. He doesn’t even think twice about just up and leaving whatever situation is tiring you. did you see him hop up to get the fuck outta that bar fight? Yeah so, you’re bored? Tired? Stressed? It’s not even machismo it’s just a homebody not giving a fuck with the subtext of “my wife and I would like to go home and read and cockwarm”

Often gives the shiftiest excuses to army buddies and coworkers just to go home and hang with you, swears he has to repair that squirrel feeder -or that an alligator is in his swimming pool, “sorry guys maybe drinks next week”

Don’t tell the guys but…HE PAINTS YOUR TOENAILS

Maybe some of your high school friends snickered about Harry Crosby way back when. Making googly eyes at you and barely getting out the most stammered greetings? Bookish and a little clumsy at times?

Ha, you won in the end

He comes home in one piece, that beautiful schlong still intact

you prayed for that ok?

“Lord keep my husband safe -- and his girthy manhood in tact as well” …for the babies you’re hoping for of course...just that… kneeling in silk pajamas each night, adding this addendum with a blush but was always faithful to keep it in your prayers

Sometimes you have that thought in church as well...so you has to take a couple deep breaths and calm yourself...it's because you want children...not because you’re already so sprung off this man's dick after only a couple weeks of married life.

weeks that feels like a lifetime ago now, by the way

Prim and lovely Jean Crosby staring off into stained glass worlds thinking of having her tight little hole tugged open and her guts rearranged, it’s even worse than her thoughts prior to the wedding, because she’s had the experience, then suddenly it was ripped away

And she’s empty and scared to death for him

She gets asked to sing at the funeral of a lieutenant who never even got off the ground during a training flight,

work and church and such are hopeless distractions

Wanders through the department store wondering if every other wife misses this way, does everyone feel the same primal ache?

Dear Jean Crosby terribly worried she’s a freak yet entirely unrepentant for it

But ya know what’s probably funny? Across the ocean Harry Crosby is sometimes so direly missing his wife in the carnal way that he just about spaces out too, and god knows there’s zero privacy anywhere and the showers are the showers but like???? it’s just a no-go most times and everyone gets very confused when he’s in this mood?? Not at all suspecting baser distractions are what’s at play. Somehow someone figured it out, maybe he actually snapped a little about having five seconds to himself while reading a letter and they’re like

And somehow there seems to suddenly be five minutes or so when NO ONE but Crosby is in the showers?!

It only takes him two minutes to get there but he needs to stand there catching his breath and clutching at his heart while he thinks of Jean sprawled beneath him

This is probably Douglass’ doing? Because he’s a good dude, he doesn’t underestimate Croz AND he’s a dirty little bastard himself

“Fellas, the man got himself a wife while half of you guys are virgins? Of course he has urges?”

In a quiet, rare moment, Gale bends his ear -Harry is so modest and low key...unlike some folks *looking at you Bucky*- “So, uh, where'd ya say you and the missus went off to before ya came here?“

Gale’s gotta casually open the door for this conversation “Lots of good sights to see? I, um, haven't done much traveling myself”

It takes Croz a few conversations until he realizes just what Gale means, until then there’s a lot bewildered eyebrows at the inquiry and bashful appreciation for the interest: “Major Cleven I-I already told you, sir, we had a little cabin in the Alleghenies for a week?“

He's been telling Jean about Major Gale Cleven, about how she'd really like him. Gale is a good fella. He tells her about all their "travel talk"

Until one day Jean writes back: “Oh honey, that Cleven of yours is a virgin”

Whether Harry divulges to Gale anything he learned about ladies in that little cabin in the mountains writhing before a fire on a bearskin rug, that first time Harry actually didn’t stop and ask if Jean was dying every time she made a noise but instead, kept going until her cried properly built and she screamed…

well, it was probably an abbreviated account that mostly consisted of “wives are just wonderful people, Major Cleven” with a far off look in his eyes

Gale leaves him to it after all- Harry was married for like 3 seconds before he left, It's literally either playback of the last horrific mission or thinking of the curve of her spine

He gets the dreamiest look on his face, eyes all shiny, mouth a little slack

Somehow these two can be so passionate and yet it’s so wholesome and good and angelic?!!! It’s the allure of them

Because it’s all in these gentle and safe and good boundaries? Like it isn’t complicated and yet it’s not simple and it’s neither settling nor is it turbulent. something to be said for “doing it right”

They genuinely thank God for each other, they’re so sure it was always intended to be just them

I have 1k of headcanons just for the homecoming ok? Y’all will have to request those separate

But once home:

The eye contact they make at social events?? It’s a whole language, the most loving and adorable thing ever

He may not be a real gem of a singer but he’s an excellent hummer. so much gentle humming around the house while he’s fixing the stove light or rocking a baby to sleep or-

You know what I mean don’t you? Some men can just humm and you’re instantly wet? No I don’t mean humming a Billie Holliday tune

I mean humming when you make a new reaction to his incessant fingering while he’s reading, makes him look away from the page and arch a brow, highly inquisitive puppy dog look on his face, reading glasses pulled down.

*a new spot? After all this time? Must investigate further*

This man, when in his element, is a goddamn tease, he’s impossible, he’s goofy, he makes sex the joyous sacrament its supposed to be every damn time and he ain’t shy to remain stark naked for ages

Praise kink for miles in that, once you’ve praised him, he will keep doing whatever earned it for the next two hours. Brace yourself

He can recite your favorite literature passages (he knows them and took pains to memorize them by your tenth anniversary) when he’s gently plowing you from the back with his hand on your neck and your ear lob in between his teeth

He’s a biter my friends -gotta keep quiet somehow, can’t scar the passel of children y’all made, after all

So many excuses given to kids about “mama and I need to talk about the mortgage” -very rarely is mortgage even thought of once the door is closed and locked

But that brings us back to the early days, it’s one thing to know someone so well after all those years but the early days?

Two Virgins named Jean and Harry went straight from the chapel to fucking like Bunnies before he went to war

Harry had done his research tho. All that reading…

Harry Crosby totally ate his wife out on their wedding night.

even though he’d never really seen a full vagina before

he’s a bit methodical, yeah? At first? with a hint of overly flustered and terribly delighted

So I’m just picturing him like hunkering down there, tentative but firm hands on your thighs: “to get my bearings, honey pie” as he takes in the lay of the land

because there’s a lot happening down there on a lady, ok? -there’s petals and more petals and slippery slopes and little buttons and a tiny hole that has to be for pee, no way he’s supposed to go in that one?! but, but she doesn’t have another? Well the backdoo- no can’t even think of that. Oh god ok, ok, vaginal opening, -I guess that’s a vaginal opening?! and due north, a little button that makes her squeak when I touch it. ok ok, might as well start there…

I can see him with a metaphorical pencil behind his ear, ready to jot down notes

Jeanie finally sighs and grips him by the ears and hauls him up for a kiss and just grinds against him and insists it’s lovely

“just kiss me, silly.” she says to him after awhile.

“Mmm, I do like kissing you, Jean” he grins back

he’s naturally kissing his way to her boobs and staying there a lovely long time but she starts pushing at his dark head, *hint hint* lower down her belly and lower, and lower and he’s so caught up he doesn’t even realize it until there’s a sweet little patch of curls under his chin and he looks up with the oddest expression of curiosity and doubt on his face only to be met with Jean’s expectant eyebrow

She wouldn’t want me to?—-*ah, she just face planted me in pussy, ok then*

Lapping at it with the biggest grin, there may or may not have been some noise complaints

the whole apartment complex just knows he’s a good husband, never would peg him as a stud if you met him in the hallway but, Jean sure takes forever to say goodbye to him in the mornings so he must do something right

All the neighbors just can't help but be happy for those two kids

They cook them food and leave the casserole dishes on the landing so they can savor each other for as long as possible before he leaves

Next Sunday they show up at church like dutiful little Americans and they’ve got hickies everywhere and his cheeks are a permanent pink, Her knees are red and raw under her church dress

I feel like maybe they get a little adventurous as their time together draws to a close? Maybe they break a dining room chair? She's too mortified to put it out on the curb

*saves it for 50 years*

Some of those wedding china ends up in pieces on the floor. Can't explain to her aunts why they don't have a full set all of a sudden

i really hope he never loses that occasional hair trigger premature ejaculation tendency.

Sometimes it even shocks him, “O-Oh...shoot”

The last day together is a dismal and precious night

The poor man probably laid there on her sweaty boobs after blowing his last load with the saddest *fml* face on as he processed it being, indeed, his last

But HOMECOMING!

and now the war is over they can set up house and make babies

A small breeding kink, after all, these men marched home from war and basically were told "get a job and let's repopulate for all the boys we lost!"

It’s so damn primal when you think about it but under the veneer of the starched and polished 50’s

Croz can't think straight in that tight little hole, let alone think of the ramifications of another baby

“Give it to me, give me another, come on Harry, we've got an empty space in the Christmas card anyway, think of it!! fill me up baby oh godddd Jesus bless your pretty dick-*

it’s the most mundane reasons and he still busts a nut like she’s some filthy vixen and not his sweet and slightly too optimistic wife

frantic love making with a sweater and socks still on, too

Jean is a writher because the longer they are married the longer he lasts and soon she’s come and he just keeps going and she cannot keep quiet then and he’s too big to ignore or calm down between, just thick enough to always be tugging just right and she fully sobs from it sometimes

Often she’s trying to cup herself?!? Fully spasming and shaking and curling in but his strong forearm is over her belly and his lips on her ear

This man is a god at spooning sex

she is so cock feral when she falls pregnant it almost alarms him

The books didn't say anything about this?! He's exhausted and dehydrated and his classes are suffering as a result

Wants to ask Egan if he encountered this phenomenon

His war buddies become a new father support group

"Hang in there pal, only three more months"

They’ll be in the kitchen just chatting before dinner, she wants to tease him. Scoops a little cherry pie filling onto her finger. He licks it and sucks it off -- bites the finger too, in the background dogs are barking and kids are running amuck

As the Crosbys you’re in for a life of very benign but nauseatingly idyllic Christmas parties.

Snow globes, y’all

Sweaters, spiked eggnog and very well thought out gifts

Harry is the sort to carry Jean's purse when they are out shopping and she is trying on clothes. He also has no problem going and buying her sanitary napkins at the drugstore when she's on her period, because it's completely normal and there's nothing for anyone to be embarrassed about. Basically, he is just stupidly in love with her. He's like a puppy who will always follow, but she doesn't take advantage of that fact (credit to:@noneedtoamputate)

He is Harry “Have You Met My Wife?” Crosby back home, too, it’s even worse when he gets tipsy and his confidence grows and good luck shutting him up about how beautiful she is

This is the sorta man whose kids only learn Daddy was a goddamn boss during the war when they’re outta college, a very casual “oh yeah, that was sort of a thing, pass the salt.”

It’s canon this man cut his own son’s hair all his little life, propped him up on a little stool in the back yard and got to trimming -some of the only times the boy ever heard of those devastating missions

Imagine? Same man who used to take you out on the porch into the night air and rock against his sweater when you were a baby and wouldn’t settle is the same man who bombed the hell outta Fortress Europe

He’s the kind of man whose kids are so enamored over how both sides of the coin could settle in the same man, they end up making a documentary about him

Now I also need you to think of this man at bath time in the early 50’s -Shirt sleeves rolled up, top two buttons on his pristine white button up shirt popped with a peak of chest hair showing through, his curls getting steamed by his kids bubble baths

He’s got the prettiest slightly hairy forearms, y’all -according to Jean at least

Gives himself a bubble beard to make his kids laugh, will stay on his knees watching them play for ages, fully participating

His white shirt gets fully transparent with all this splashing and Jean has to really keep her mind on what’s next when she can so easily see his hair and pretty little nipples pebbled in a chill under them. Stops her whining about water on the floor in seconds.

Harry’s already hushing her and mopping it up with a towel anyway

The Crosby kids will have memories of their idiotically in love and enthralled parents who loved being parents, wrapping their baby selves snuggly into towels and setting them on the counter and just cracking up over how cute they looked with their chubby and shiny widdle faces poking out of terry cloth

Jean and Harry spend a lotta time doing that, they just love their kids, ok?

Brushing their cute little Croz curls

Jean can’t say no to a single one with their sad puppy eyes their daddy gave them

Sometimes they sit the kids in front of the fireplace (they obviously needed a house with a fireplace after that honeymoon) and line them up. Talk about them as if they aren't sitting right there. "Honey, look at those gorgeous eyes -- and his smile! Oh my, who do these cuties belong to?"

But it’s not all placid domesticity. Picture this:

Crosby with a mega phone, organizes a neighborhood Easter egg hunt. He's in charge, his aviators on, taking this so seriously

There are maps, he’s planned this for weeks, some of those traits and skills he picked up during the war come back at the oddest times

this gets even more intense if any of the war buddies are there

Harry writes letters to them strategizing, they all come and bring their own kids

It makes the local paper for being one of the biggest Easter egg hunts the state has ever seen

Night falls, children fall asleep and there are still some eggs left. Armed with booze and flashlights, the boys go out to collect the rest

Harry and Jean don't collect any though, they end up in a bush necking somewhere

Bucky gets very adamant about finding them and Brady is just as adamantly begging him not to

But Major Egan cannot be stopped, he rallies his men, hopping on the kids’ bikes and scooters

Everyone heckling each other in the dark suburban neighborhood

"Ya lost your touch Buck, keep up will ya?"

They all end up in a schnapps induced heap in the Crosby's backyard, long limbs all folded up on too small equipment

Jean and Harry leisurely stroll back up the street under lamp glow to their house where everyone is feral and collapsed and calling loudly for their hosts

Sharing soft little smiles and picking twigs out of each others hair

They tuck these idiot men in on the couches and floor, blankets, sleeping bags and dogs

Hear me out: Jean is the only human able to talk a belligerent Bucky out of his thirtieth beer

She has that sweet way about her that makes every person wanna be a better man for her

When he finally gives in and throws his arm over her little shoulders and swears she’s a good woman, Harry is there with the pan and the aspirin and the blanket

She makes them all the most perfect hangover breakfast the next morning, gingham checked apron stretched over swollen belly

Harry nuzzles her belly when she stops at his plate to dish up the eggs

Everyone wants to gag over how perfectly content these two are but that would be a waste of the best breakfast in the USA

And if Jean happens to make the best baked goods on the block - Croz is making sure everyone knows just who’s muffins those are on the bake sale table. Or if she wants to pursue a career or education? Harry is her biggest cheerleader, doing anything and everything to support her and being sure that everyone knows how incredible she is at what she does. (Credit @blurredcolour)

They may be the sweater wearing, block party and Sunday school couple but don’t think anybody gets away with being snide to Mrs. Jean Crosby -there will be comeuppance, even if it’s just an exquisitely literate verbal evisceration.

There's even more often a roaming band of local kids who kick the shins of everyone who's mean to Mrs. Crosby, because she gives them sweets and feeds them when they're hungry and cleans up their scrapes when play gets too rough and -if Mr. Crosby hands out a comic or two to the boys that "accidentally" tripped some bloke who was harassing his wife, well. All is fair in love and war. (Credit to @promptedwordsmith)

When in the summer of 49 the Crosbies get a swimming pool dug? It might as well be considered public property.

not just the kids who are attached to the crosbies, though. your home is a constant revolving door of visitors - including a bunch of ex-servicemen. if it's not bucky lounging in the pool, or rosie painting the fence in his shirtsleeves because he wanted to be helpful, then douglass is smoking a cigarette in the yard while trying to make you laugh. ev is asking harry to show him how to read this goddamn map bc they're supposed to be taking a trip to the grand canyon in a month, and bubbles is over for dinner every other night. even brady sometimes shows his face, if only to carp at harry for getting them lost over france that one time while working the barbecue because you asked him to. when you and harry bought the house with an extra room you weren't sure you would ever use, you didn't expect it to be occupied as often as a popular hotel. if anyone ever had any bad intentions toward the crosbies, they're definitely rethinking it. those that don't...well. being in the air corps teaches one all sorts of creative ways of getting back at people. (Credit to @fidelias)

Imagine all the different skills the Crosby kids (_and their neighbor friends who never seem to leave_) learn from these guys?

“Oh yeah, Bucky Egan taught me how to swim while wearing his aviators…”

In other words:

Harry Crosby went home and built himself a little Norman Rockwell Camelot and then opened the doors of the kingdom to his buddies and -that’s as it should be.

And that’s not even mentioning how the Air Force and the CIA walked up to his front porch and interrupted a backyard ballgame to ask him for his help

It sucks to be super smart and needed when all ya wanna do is teach literature, go camping and help keep the church life going

But still

Jean sure looked good in Pakistan, the kids enjoyed a new culture and Harry likes to say he may have done some good

#mota fanfic #masters of the air #harry crosby #Harry Crosby fanfic #Harry Crosby x reader #mota headcanons #masters of the air fanfiction #anthony boyle #hbo war fanfic

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