#YES GAAAAAWD

[starlooove]

JASON AND CARMEN SO REEAAALLLLL

[mmunson86]

Ohh maaa gaaaaawd yes!🫠💗

Waiting Room Problems | Eddie Munson x fem!Reader | 18+ |

Summary: a rough landing in a fight with your brother causes you to land in a crowded waiting room. Meanwhile a rough deal also sends Eddie the same fate. Somehow, somehow you try to keep your eyes on your phone and off his tiny little waist. It proves... difficult.

Warnings: strangers to lovers, fleeting glances, slightly cocky Eddie, sex in a public bathroom (trust me on this, just trust me), and general horniness at Eddie's general appearance, unprotected piv, against the wall fucking, deep throating, daddy kink

Authors note: I just spent 8 hours last night (when | wrote this) in the fucking waiting room. At two hours in a guy came in and he radiated Eddie's energy so my mind ran away with it. (Everything is ok).

Thanks for the hype on the preview! Hopefully this lives up to the hype

Thanks so much to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you for editing bestie ❤️

As the night swallows you whole, you sit in your mom’s passenger seat of her car as she drives you to the ER. While roughhousing with your older brother you landed on your hand wrong and bent it way back. It’s definitely not broken, but it for sure needs to be looked at.

As the lights of the night pass you by, you insist you’re fine and the sprain will heal after a few days. Your mom, however, was having none of it as you rolled your eyes in exasperation.

She’s as stubborn as you are, so you sit arms crossed as you know you have no choice. Ouch, ok, crossing your arms was a bad idea.

She wishes you well, her kind eyes wide as she leans over to ask you to keep her updated. You can’t help it, slamming the door after letting her know you will. You should’ve been enjoying some spiked eggnog and watching holiday movies, but now you’re spending Christmas Eve in the ER.

The large window to the waiting room lets you know there’s already a long line up just waiting for the triage and most seats are taken. Fuck, you’re in for a long night.

The kind and sunny nurse takes your vitals and information, gently assessing your symptoms and palpating your wrist carefully. She lets you know it’s definitely sprained and will need a gauze wrap.

Soon, you find yourself sitting in a brown, cracked, leather chair sitting close to a man who is coughing up a lung and groaning in pain after each bout. Not that there are many options to begin with.

Your phone in your hand and your charger in your bag, you sit comfortably and wait for your name to get called as you look at memes and watch videos with one headphone in.

Ninety minutes goes by while your best friend texts you to keep you busy and entertained, not even noticing you’ve been waiting for so long. Thank god for her.

For the first time in a while, you look up to assess the state of the waiting room. As far as you recall, about five people have been called to the back. Those seats have been replaced with new patients and their support, what seems to be a never-ending cycle.

Your eyes flick to someone who walks into the line that is long enough to extend into the hallway, stepping up a place in line and finally into the actual waiting room. Your eyes scan him, the boots, the ripped jeans, the leather jacket covering a graphic tee, all leading up to his shaggy brown hair and gorgeous face.

Your mouth partially opens, momentarily taken aback by how unbelievably hot he is. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong, at least, until you notice the tear in his shirt peeking at white gauze on his torso. From the stain, it’s clear he was injured.

His face doesn’t reflect such, patiently waiting as the two triage nurses take their time. By the third time he blinks, you realize you’ve been staring and shift your eyes back down to your phone.

As the line moves, his boots in the corner of your eye, you grow increasingly aware of how much you want to continue staring at him. Something about him is just so enticing, drawing you in. Especially his lack of response to a wound as such.

Time passes on and soon you find yourself bored of the videos and turn on your Spotify to the comfort playlist. Your eyes flicker to the triage station, wandering around the room aimlessly. Unfortunately, it lands on the stranger you’ve been lingering on and witnesses him lifting his shirt to show the nurse the reason for his visit.

The black shirt lifts to show a slim waist scattered in black and grey tattoos, lifting the white gauze to reveal a gnarly wound. You can’t tell but from its shape it looks to be a stab wound. However gory his uncovered wound looks; you can’t help but stare at his bare torso.

Then, it fucking happens. His eyes flicker to you, for a fraction of second, he keeps the eye contact. His mouth twitches, leaning into something you’d call a smirk. As a reflex you shift your eyes away from him, cheeks heating up in embarrassment from getting caught.

You spend the next few minutes convincing yourself that it was all in your head, and that for all he knew you were zoned out and happened to be zoned out on him. It feels like a reach, especially with his torso as revealed as it was.

Time itself blurs as you zone out on your phone, attempting to distract yourself from your thumping heart and the arousal that pools into your cotton underwear. A shift in movement catches your eye, blurred and black in your periphery.

Your eyes by reflex glance up, catching a glimpse of him slouching in his chair, a foot resting on the other as knee he uses wired headphones and stares at whatever’s on his phone. Somehow, his confidence at making himself at home is still attractive, drool gathering in your mouth.

You look down at your phone before he catches you again, this visit at the ER sending a thrill through you that you didn’t expect in the least.

More and more people get called to the back, and you're still stuck waiting. Everyone who you’ve told is surprised to say the least that it’s been hours and you’re still just in the waiting room. You don’t mind though, sneaking glances at the beautiful stranger has become your favourite pastime.

Four hours in, if someone asked your highlight it would be when he head-banged to whatever assumingly heavy metal band he listens to. By the time the nurse calls your name to the back, it takes a strong second place.

About twenty minutes pass before it’s your turn for a bed, and you are let your eyes wander around, now bored of your phone. As they do, they catch sight of the man you’ve kept an eye on yawning in a big stretch. What this yawn has you so captivated by is the sliver of skin his stretch reveals, and the curly brown treasure trail that peeks from just above the hem of his low sitting jeans.

Your mouth floods with saliva. With your mouth agape and eyes subtly widened, you can’t help but gawk at him. Something about the way you suddenly picture yourself pulling him into the bathroom to nuzzle into his hair takes you aback just a little bit.

Time slows down for you, stretching into hours, but it's only seconds. Finally, as his body relaxes from the stretch you turn your eyes back to his face, hoping he didn’t see your fleeting glance. Startlingly, his eyes are already on yours. This time you can’t find it in you to look away in embarrassment. As if reading your mind, he smirks right at you, and you swear his brown eyes darken a shade.

This time for sure, he caught you. He doesn’t seem to care one way or the other, arms crossing over his chest as he keeps his smug expression right on you.

It’s hard to resist the smile as you go back to your phone, promising to yourself that you will remember his face for as long as you can.

-

Eddie thanks Gareth for dropping him off at the hospital, gritting his teeth at the slight pain stretching his torso gives him.

As he wanders into the hospital, his eyes take in the crowded waiting room and he groans, wishing the wound wasn’t so fucking deep.

He got stabbed. He got fucking stabbed. Wayne is going to kill him when he finds out he got into a fight, especially one where knives were in the crossfire. He couldn’t even say how the situation got so heated so quickly, just another fight in a parking lot after a deal goes sour.

The guy pulled a fucking knife on him, pushed it into his torso and ran off with the goods before Eddie could even realize he had been harmed.

All for fucking weed. Wasn’t even cocaine!

It takes a stupid amount of time for him to finally get to the nurse. She tells him to sit down for his vitals, and he refuses, wanting to show the wound and get it out of the way.

He lifts his shirt at her request, showing the darkened gauze and hissing as she takes a closer look at the wound when it’s removed. Eddie realizes the irony of exposing his chest in the triage, looking up to face the windows that allow other patients to see through.

He does a quick scan of the room, no one having seemed to notice how he’s shirtless. No one, but you. He saw you when he walked in, you were on your phone with one earbud in as you tapped your feet to whatever beat you were listening to. He thought you were cute, his mouth twitching in a smile as he notices you’re cradling one arm across your chest.

It couldn’t have been confused with zoning out, your mouth in a small O shape you openly stare at him. The look you have on your face is enough to turn Eddie on a little, having the urge to caress your face as you look up at him with those same wide eyes. His mouth twitches as he thinks of it, the thought enough to distract him from the shooting pain in his chest.

Your eyes dart away as soon as it registers that he’s looking back at you. His smile widens even more as you sink in your seat, your eyes glazing over as you scroll through your phone. Made him want to embarrass you more, in much worse ways.

After the nurse takes his vitals, he’s instructed to sit down, thanking some deity that the seat across from you is freed. You’re keeping yourself distracted, much to his dismay, so kicks his shoe to grab your attention, placing it on his other knee.

It works as well as he hopes, your eyes flickering up to him. He can’t help but look as if he can’t be bothered. In the corner of his eye, you look back to your own phone, biting your lip.

Eddie spends the next little bit getting your attention however he can, wondering how much it takes for your eyes to wander back to him. By trial and error, not much. He turns on a heavy metal band, nodding his head enthusiastically to the loud drum beats.

As time goes on, he gets more bored and waits impatiently for his name to be called. He figured stitches would be a priority, no? It’s past his bedtime, he decides, as he yawns a big stretch, despite the pain he causes for himself.

As he does, he catches the way your eyes are glued to him, particularly the strip of skin his shirt lifts to show. In real time, Eddie witnesses your eyes glaze over and how your teeth nervously graze your bottom lip. Whatever was on your mind, he desperately wanted to know, mesmerized at the way your throat swallows.

Finally, you make eye contact with him, and Eddie needs to let you know how much he just saw, your lust for him clear as day. He can’t lie, the feeling is entirely mutual, the look on your face is something he wants to see over and over as he rails— he’s getting ahead of himself.

Instead, he opts for a smirk, admiring the way your pretty eyes hold his gaze this time. He relaxes back into his chair, daring you to say something as he smiles with a hint of satisfaction…and all the cockiness his body can handle.

You shyly look back at your phone, failing to hide the smile that invades your face. It takes Eddie a moment to gain the courage, but he finally decides he can’t let you go if he's nursing a hard on in the fucking waiting room from your gaze alone.

By the time he finds a pen and paper to give your number, he’s writing it down when the nurse calls your name.

Eddie sighs, watching your ass in those jeans as you walk away. Just his luck.

-

As the new year passes, the memory of the hot stranger in the waiting room fades, much to your dismay.

The very night you had a dream where he meets you in some sort of dark room, tugging down your jeans you were wearing and wrapping those hands around your neck as he fucked you from behind.

Your hyperventilating mixed with the way your cunt spasmed as you came woke you up, taking a minute to catch your breath. That morning you groaned in frustration, wanting nothing more but to track him down.

Days passed and soon you’re in the grocery store, arm still wrapped for another week as you walk around the store for some basics. Milk, eggs, bread, all on your mother’s tab, of course. You were two seconds away from pushing your small cart to the checkout counter when you remember you're out of mouthwash.

As you try to decide whether to grab the one you liked which was not on sale or the one that was, a set of footsteps pass and settle right next to you, the customer also assessing mouth hygiene products.

The person's foot tapped, and by reflex you switch your glance down to the sound, and immediately recognize the boots. Your head moves up so fast you swear you give yourself whiplash to his face, facing the shaggy locks you found yourself obsessed with that night in the ER.

“Oh shit” you say out loud, before you could even stop it.

His eyes flicker to yours and recognize you off the bat. His smile gives way to deep dimples. He’s exactly as hot as you remember, if not more.

Of course, you can’t find it in yourself to assume he recognizes you, even if his eyes spell it out for you. “Sorry, I-I just remember you from the ER last month. How’s that stab wound?”

He chuckles, something that makes your legs clench together. “Uh, it’s better.” He comments, lifting his shirt to demonstrate. Is it unnecessary for Eddie to show his stitches? Absolutely. Did he do it for the visual reaction he missed so much? Also, yes.

Unfortunately, his bare waist is gone as soon as it appears, barely giving you a second to take in the purple stitches. You bite your lip as you glance at his face, his smirk displayed almost driving a whimper out of you.

“How’s your arm?”

“What?” You ask, incredibly distracted by the everything about him.

He chuckles pointing to the wrapped arm you can’t use as you shopped but to push the cart. “Oh, one more week then I’m free.” You comment, indicating the gauze.

“That’s good.” He comments, switching his glance back to the toothbrushes he was glancing at earlier.

How are you already messing this up? Might as well cut your losses. “Alright, nice seeing you, again.”

“Whoa, whoa.” He says, grabbing at your uninjured arm before you make your hasty exit. Your eyes peer at him curiously, wondering what he could’ve possibly wanted. “Here,”

His hands move to the leather jacket and grab a folded piece of paper to hand out to you. “What’s that?”

“My number” he answers, stating the obvious. “Shoot me a text, call me, I don’t care. Just do it. Please.”

“You’re really giving your number on a piece of paper?” You ask, tilting your head and forgetting your nervousness for two seconds. “What is this, 1986?”

He laughs, deep and whole, and for some reason it causes a heart palpitation. “Yeah, I guess I am. I planned on giving it to you at the ER, but the nurse whisked you away before I could.”

“Huh?” You ask, your brain short circuiting.

He laughs again as you accept the number, your hands holding onto it tightly as if it might disappear. He picks a toothbrush, seemingly at random and examines it, shrugging as he tosses it into his basket. “Call me,” he says, winking, and walks away from where he came from.

As he walks away, his cologne invades your senses, breath stuttering as you breathe him in. Oh, you are definitely calling him.

As soon as you’re checked out, you find yourself having to use the bathroom, so you wander to the back of the store and down the hall where the single unisex bathroom is.

It’s locked, so you check your phone as you wait, leg shaking to distract yourself from the need. When the bathroom door opens, you look up to face the patron and your brain deflates.

“Holy shit.” You gasp, facing the kind stranger, whose name you learned is Eddie from the number he gave you. You stare at one another, taking each other in, your breath heavy and your heartbeat in your ears. Why were you here, again?

Instantaneously, his hands are grabbing at the fabric of your winter jacket, tugging you forward as he places his lips on yours. Your bags drop from your hands as you gasp in surprise, your brain taking a moment to catch up.

As soon as it does, you grab onto his jacket and kiss him back, meeting his enthusiasm feverishly. His tongue darts out to meet yours, you accept it wholeheartedly, taking in how weak his lips alone make you feel.

Eddie starts to pull you backwards and into the bathroom. As soon as the door is closed, you’re pushed up against the wall, whimpering as he moves his body against you. “Fuck.” He whispers against your lips, taking a moment to catch his breath.

You hum in response, lips reaching for him again. As you do, your hands sneak past his jacket and onto his t-shirt, clutching at the fabric as you finally feel up his torso.

“Nuh uh.” He tsks, pulling back from you. When you pout, he laughs and gives you a look of pity. “I just gotta know one thing, there, sweetheart.”

“Anything.” You promise, not knowing what you’re getting into. You just wanted his lips back on yours.

“Anything, huh?” He asks, slightly taunting you. “Okay.” He leans down, breathing down your neck as he places his lips by your ear. “What were you thinking about in that waiting room while you ogled me, sweetheart?”

Okay, not that. You sigh in embarrassment, learning he knew exactly what you were thinking while you gawked at his chest, gawked at him.

“Don’t act all embarrassed, now.” He chides, observing how your eyes widen just how he remembered. “Tell me. Tell me and we’ll do every raunchy little thing that pretty brain came up with.” He taps the tip of your nose gently with the pad of his finger. You wish he'd shove it past your lips.

Your eyes widen as the arousal floods the panties you wear. All you can do is breathe hard and attempt to find the words.

“Let me help you.” He says, shifting his weight against you slightly. “Was it my hands down those tight ass jeans you were wearing?” You gasp as his fingers barely graze your jeans’ waistband. “Or even better was my tongue on that wet cunt of yours?” You shake your head no, as much as you wanted both of those things. You didn’t even get that far. “Were you on your pretty knees?” Finally, you nod, confirming exactly what you were thinking about.

“Your cock was down my throat while I nuzzled your…” you trail off, lifting his shirt to see the patch of hair again, “oh my god.”

He chuckles, rewarding you with a wet and dirty kiss. All too soon, he pulls away. “Then what, baby?”

Your mind is dumb, trying to come up with it. “Then…then you bent me over and fucked me—” you whine as his knee bucks up between your legs and makes harsh contact with your cunt, “with your hand around my throat.”

“Jesus Christ,” he swears, teeth gritted as he gives you a look at screams with lust. “Believe me, if you asked, I would’ve.”

“Yeah?” You ask, licking your lips as your head leans back into the door. “What about your cut?”

“To hell with my cut! I had a pretty girl practically giving me the eyes, you think I care about some little scratch?”

You stare at him in disbelief, your body and breaths stilling for a minute. “Then do it.”

Eddie smirks at you, and you stare at his pretty pink lips as he leans in and kisses you, both impossibly dirty and sweet simultaneously. Eddie’s knee contacts your cunt again, this time forcing a moan out your lips. Blindly you move your hand down his chest, finally gripping the hard-on straining against the fabric of his jeans.

He gives you his first moan, a sound that opens the floodgates. “Wanna get on those knees for me, baby?”

You nod, giving one last kiss to the spot where his jaw meets his neck. Slowly, you kiss your way down his body where finally you find yourself face to face with the cock that’s pushing its way out of his pants. You fumble with the button for a second before you finally reveal him, and it’s so much better than you could’ve imagined.

So much bigger, too.

You smile up at him through your eyelashes, grateful for fates allowing you in the same place at the same time. He places his hand under your chin, licking his lips as he examines your expression of desire. “Suck my cock, baby.”

You eye his treasure trail, dipping your nose into it as you inhale his musk, uninjured hand wrapping around his thick girth. You mewl at the scent; the aroma is even better than you had imagined. One of his large hands slides itself gently along your cheek, his long thumb stroking at the apple of your sweet smile. You stare up at him, kissing the underside of the head of his cock with wet lips. Your tongue pokes out, flat as you lick it slowly, taking your sweet time, admiring the way he lets out whimpers.

“Oh…shit.”

This urges you to wrap your lips around the head, your cheeks hollowing out as you suck on it gently. You take your lips off him, spitting the excess saliva in your mouth onto his shaft, your hand slowly moves up and down, jerking his length to spread the slick along his cock. The shine is pretty, the spit accentuating the pink blush.

“Pretty cock,” you compliment him, laughing breathily as you go cross-eyed just staring at it. “Tastes better than I thought it would.”

“Did you think about tasting my cock, sweet girl?”

You wrap your lips around him again, bobbing your head up and down as you confirm what he asked with a simple hum. He’s big, the tip hitting the back of your mouth and that wasn’t even half of it. You choke on him, the guttural sounds echoing loudly against the tiled walls. A want of more of him in your mouth invades your mind, not tasting nearly enough of him.

You attempt to take in more of him, choking on it even more but struggling to, despite the desperate need. “Settle down, sweet girl,” he mutters, harshly brushing his fingers against your cheek as he peers down at you. “Relax your throat. Take all those tense muscles and relax ‘em.” You think about it, letting those reflexes remain tense to rest. You’re holding back more saliva, but you fail to realize it until your mouth is flooded with spit, overflowing past the barrier of your lips. “Oh, good girl.”

It's alien but mind numbingly arousing as you feel him move down your throat, moaning around him. His fingers comb through your hair, and roughly move against your scalp. “That’s it, breathe through your nose, sweets.”

The heel of his palms rest on your forehead, moving you up and down his cock. You find it stupidly easy to submit to him, the tip hitting roughly against the back of your throat. His groans are louder than the guck, guck, guck that are hitting wall to wall against the tiles. He’s brutal about it, increasing his speed from 0 to 100 quick as a thought.

Hot tears spill over your water line down your cheeks, trailing the makeup you wear down to your throat. Your hands weave themselves against the cotton of his t-shirt, fighting to keep letting him fuck your throat. “You’re so damn good at this, sweetheart, pretty little mouth working so well.”

He finally lets go, poking his cock against the inside of your cheek one last time, appreciating the swell as the glistening from your tears shine on your face. He uses his thumb to lift your chin up to him, his darkened eyes raking over your face. His pink lips parted, his dilated pupils, the heaving of his chest, there’s nothing you’d want more than to earn this gaze again. ���C’mere.”

He lifts you by your chin up to kiss you, dirtily lacing his tongue against yours. “What a good girl you are, taking it so well.” A smile lights up your face from his praise. He tugs you back in for another one, a hum vibrating against his lips. A hand of his trails down your body, single handedly unbuttoning your jeans. “Good work like that deserves a reward, hmm?”

His large hand moves past the opened fly and works itself against your panties. A gasp escapes your mouth only at the touch of his fingers on your covered folds, mewling as he keeps his eyes trained on yours. He’s not even really moving them against you, but just his touch gives you some of the pressure you needed. “Christ, you’re wet,” he comments, dipping his head to work his tongue against your pulse. “Choking on my cock really got you off, huh?”

You nod, eagerly agreeing with him. “So big.”

He smirks, pressing pressure on your clothed folds, in small circles. “You like my big cock, huh? Is it as big as you thought it would be?”

“Bigger,” you gasp, hands grabbing on any clothes he wears anxiously.

His finger easily moves the fabric aside, finger attaching itself right to your clit. The pleasure is good, eyes fluttering closed as it grows startlingly fast. “Fuck,” you swear, your voice rough. “Eddie.”

“Hmm, close?” You nod, despite the embarrassment that floods your senses. “I haven’t even started to touch you yet, baby. I still wanted to feel that tight pussy wrapped around my fingers.”

His actions mimic his words, inserting two fingers hastily into you, moving them expertly as they fuck you. With how wet you are, his two digits slide in easily. They’re long, reaching a depth in you that you could only dream about. You gush around him, music to his ears as your whimpers grow more and more pathetic. His thumb touches your clit again, rubbing frantically.

You gasp, mewling as his teeth start to nibble skillfully along the length of your neck. “Oh my god.”

Eddie’s tongue licks a sinfully long stripe up your neck to your ear, his voice intense and husky. “Cum all over my fingers, sweetheart, make a fucking mess for me.” Your hand tangles into his hair, gripping at his root. You stutter through a sentence of whines and half-finished words, failing to convey how good his fucking fingers make you feel. “So pathetic, huh?”

The words that you wanted to say were, you make me feel so good. Instead, you say, “M-ak-m, so-so good.”

Your good arm wraps itself around his shoulders, pulling his body against yours. Against your better judgment, your other hand moves his chin so your lips kiss his desperately, wanting every wet touch of them on yours. Your whimper into his mouth, pussy fluttering around his fingers as you finally cum, drenching his fingers just as he had requested.

“There she is,” he mutters, his flat palm moving under your jacket and shirt and grazing gently along your bare torso.

It takes you a second to recover from it, still feeling the effects of it throughout your body as it lingers. You unzip your jacket, letting it fall on the bathroom floor. You can’t find it in yourself to care for the moment, but it will find itself in the wash later. As it’s a walk-in bathroom, there are poles next and adjacent to the toilet. Perfect.

“Fuck me?” You ask, eyes glazed over as they reach his.

He chuckles, hands landing on your hips. Your jeans are pushed down your legs, resting just below your knees. “I thought you'd never ask, sweets.”

You grin, pushing his jacket off his shoulders onto the floor. Before it even hits the floor, you grab onto the fabric of his shirt and step backward over your own jacket to pull him across the room to the said metal bar installed on the wall.

His fingers slink into his pocket that’s now down his leg, holding a condom between you and him. You pick it up from his fingers and fling it across the room. “I’m on birth control.”

Eddie’s hands grab under your legs when your back hits the wall, supporting you surprisingly well as your ass rests on his forearms.

He sighs, eyes half mooned as he stares down at you. “My arms are occupied, mind helping me out here?”

You giggle, spitting on your hand and grabbing between the two of you at the cock that keeps brushing against your inner thigh, moving it against your entrance. It slides in easily, the mushroom tip pushing in as two of you moan in sync. Your hand moves to the bar on the wall, starting to help him as you lean some of your weight onto it.

“How is your pussy even better than I thought it’d be?” Eddie asks, gasping in uneven breaths.

“So, so full,” you gasp back, his size far bigger than you’ve ever had. “So big.”

“You’re fucking tight, sweets.” He mutters, jaw dropping as he watches you watching him.

“Move.” You urge him, the stretch too much yet his still hips are driving you crazy. “Need you to move,” It comes out as a pathetic whine and you know it, but you’re long past caring at this point.

“Say no more,” Eddie mutters, starting to move slowly, his hips rolling perfectly against you.

He hits deep and he hits hard. “Just like that! Fuck!”

“Your pussy, fuck, baby, yours is just a new fucking standard!”

You curl into his neck, nipping and starting to mark the pale skin with purple, teeth digging in harder the faster and harder he fucks. You can’t answer his compliment, but the way you tighten around him is confirmation enough that you are in complete agreement with him. It’s like he knows exactly how you like it before you tell him, intuitively knowing you before even has the opportunity to find out.

He watches every reaction you give him carefully, how your legs tighten around his waist, your hands twisting themselves in his shirt, the mewls that leave your mouth mixed with words that you never finish, he takes every hint as gospel. He’s always intuitive to what a partner of his needs, but you’re a special case, every reaction you give him only makes him insatiable for more. The way your eyes roll back in your head is everything he’s ever wanted to see from you and more, never could he have imagined anything like this when you glanced at him in the E.R.

“Fuck, your pussy is so good, I’m gonna cum, sweets,” Eddie moans, fingers digging into your bare thigh, the pressure surely bruising the skin.

“Choke me.” You gasp, voice desperate for him.

“Hands are occupied, babe.” He answers, gruff and brows furrowed.

You tap the bar, using both hands now. “I got it.”

He whines, high-pitched and gorgeous. The kind of whine you listen to on men whimpering audios. Maybe you can make it happen more. Maybe one day he’ll let you worship him for a few hours…the idea is enticing. His large hand wraps itself around your throat, the metal of his rings causing harsh friction on your neck. He admires the way you revel in it, tongue poking out of your mouth like the slut you are for him. “You’re more of a slut than I thought you are, hmm?”

You nod, his strong arm flexed and mouth watering. The drool that slips down your tongue is pure proof of it, dampening your shirt in a little streak.

“What a good little pathetic slut,” he grins, rubbing your jawline with his thumb. His grip tightens, only enough to send stars in your vision.

You tap his arm, begging him for air. “A slut for you.” You gasp, whining for him. “Want your cum, please, please cum in me.”

“Can you beg for me one more time?” He asks, your question almost making him erupt on the spot.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, arms starting to lose their strength. “I wanna be dripping from you, so bad.”

“Yeah, want Daddy’s cum?” he asks, hands gripping into your hair.

Of course, this man has a daddy kink, you couldn’t expect anything less from him. “Yes, Daddy.” You whine, grinning at his hold on you. “Fill me up.”

“Baby, Daddy’s gonna fill you up—Jesus Christ.” He interrupts himself, cutting himself off as he ruts into you a final, gasping, sweaty time. He twitches in you, feeling him fill you up as some of starts to trickle out of your pussy and down your thigh.

His hand lets go of your hair, wrapping around your torso as he pulls you into an embrace. This is the kind of sex that takes time to recover from, both out of breath, his dick still twitching. A smile takes over your features, invading every muscle in your face.

“So, think you’re gonna call me?” He asks, hand moving itself under your shirt to gently brush against your bare skin.

“I’ll definitely text you.” You answer, chuckling at the annoyed look he shoots you when he pulls back in your embrace. “Oh, come on.”

He chuckles, and for some odd reason the last thing you expect from him is another kiss, his lips working marvelously against yours. They’re much gentler, much sweeter than you expected, yet everything you’d crave from him.

“What was that?” You ask, watching his two gorgeous brown eyes.

“What, you think I’m gonna let you go after that?” He asks, half a smile on his face. “Wanna come to my place later?”

“Later?” You ask, one eyebrow quirked at him.

“I’m heading home right now, wanna join me?” He kisses the top of your eyebrow, your cheekbone, your jawline, your still covered shoulder. “I kind of need to spend a few hours with my nose buried in that pretty little cunt of yours.”

Your jaw drops, your mouth drying completely from his admission. “Y-yeah, th-that sounds nice.”

He laughs at your stutter; your pussy having tightened around him upon the mention of it.

Three knocks hit the door, loud and abrupt. “Hurry the fuck up!”

You look at one another with wide eyes, laughing at the disruption. He backs up, his cock leaving your entrance being a loss you whimper at. “Don’t worry, sweets. I will fuck you more than enough times to satisfy that need.”

“Dunno,” you start, legs shaky as you land on them, “I think I’m pretty insatiable at this point.”

“Then we’ll just have to keep going, won’t we?” Eddie asks, pulling his jeans and boxers up his legs.

“And if I’m never satisfied?” you ask, tilting your head as you pull up your own pants.

“Well then I guess we’ll just never stop.”

You grin at his answer, biting your lip excitedly.

The silence is comfortable as you pick your jackets back up and the bags on the ground. His fingers intertwined with yours, leading you down the hall past the angry customer and out the front door of the store.

He offers to eventually take you back to your car when you need to go back home, wanting more time with you even if it’s the mere ten minutes that it takes to get to his apartment.

Not one moment is wasted as he yanks you to his bedroom, pushing you onto his bed. As promised, your jeans are yanked down your legs quick as can be, burying his nose deep in your cunt.

Only after the eighth orgasm does Eddie yank off your clothes, followed by his, finally skin against skin as he rails you in every position, even the ones you didn’t know were possible.

You might have to thank your brother for spraining your wrist, it’s the best thing he’s ever done for you.

-

Thanks for reading! I read every comment and tag you leave and as always reblogging is the best way to support fic writers on tumblr

taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinnschesthair @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you @names-were-taken @oddussy420

taglist for Waiting Room Problems: @skrzydlak @delicatechaos @ali-r3n @suckerz @cam-peggio @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @emxxblog @lilrubles @dandelionnfluff @babygirl229 @let-love-bleeds-red @kurdtbean

[zoeykallus]

Shy Tech

Tech x Reader

Just a short thing I had written down sometime last week. Wrote it down after a dream, wich is why it is so short and a little out of context. Nothing big. No Warnings. Just cute Tech being super nervous around reader.

Shy Tech

You had never been to Geonosis before. It was another desert planet, but this one was covered with red sand and rocks. It looked somehow even more inhospitable than Tatooine.

"Who would want to live here?" you asked to no one in particular as you waited outside the ship for Rex.

But of course, Tech took the opportunity to chat from his infinite store of knowledge.

"The Geonosians are a winged, insectoid species. Despite their insectoid origins, Geonosians have no skin armor, but smooth, thin skin. They have long arms with relatively small hands, crooked legs, and claws on their feet. Despite their gaunt frame, they are very strong. Geonosians are generally naked, except for a loincloth that sparsely covers their private parts. Upper body clothing is unnecessary for both men and women. Because they wear no clothing, they are more agile than most opponents and also use their clawed feet for defense. The Geonosian language consists of clicking and cracking sounds. They live in..."

"Oh my gaaaaawd, shut up, will ya?!" Wrecker interrupted Tech in his loud voice, "Nobody cares about that much information."

Tech was annoyed by this rude interruption, but he actually shut up and refocused on his datapad.

You rose from the box you were sitting on, walked through the red sand to Tech, and sat right next to him. He looked up from his datapad at you briefly, then focused back on the device in his hand.

"They live in...?" you asked him quietly.

Surprised, he blinked and looked back up into your face.

"Please don't encourage him," Wrecker muttered.

"Don't be so rude!" you fired back, silencing him in surprise.

Tech's ears went all red again, and to hide it, he hastily put on his helmet, despite the barely tolerable heat out here. It was interesting and amusing to see. Tech was the one who always kept a calm head in the most dangerous situations, but you always managed to shake him in some way.

Omega appeared at your side and gently tugged on your shirt to get your attention. Omega gestured for you to lean in with your ear to her, then whispered, "I think Tech likes you a lot."

You chuckled, at which point Tech shot a surprised and nervous look at the two of you. He couldn't hear what Omega was saying to you, but he was sure you were talking about him. He uneasily shifted his weight on the crate he and you were sitting on before finally standing up, pretending to be fully focused on the datapad again, and walking to the ship's ramp.

"I think we gave him the wrong impression," you sighed.

But you were distracted by an approaching small troop transport before you girls could discuss this topic further.

"Finally. Rex shows up," Hunter muttered.

As Rex came down the ramp, you were already running toward him, literally jumping on him.

Giggling, Rex wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off your feet for a moment. The other clones watched the scene in amazement. They knew you were friends with Rex, but they had no idea how close you actually were. If you had eyes in the back of your head, you would have seen the worried look on Tech's face. He was worried about how close you really were.

"Hey Firecracker," Rex greeted you teasingly, "How did you end up with these guys? I hope they're treating you well?"

You laughed as Rex eased you to your feet and back out of his embrace.

"They're all very gentle and decent to me," you replied.

"You'll tell me if that ever changes," he stated more or less jokingly.

"Yes, Captain," you replied playfully formal.

With a hand between your shoulders, he led you back to the rest of the crew.

With the supplies stowed on the Havoc Maurauder and everything else ready to go, Rex, Hunter, and Omega headed out to get more supplies before leaving for Ryloth, while Echo, Wrecker Tech, and you stayed behind with the small troop carrier.

You went in first and looked around. There were no cabins, just a few bunks facing each other. So there would be no privacy at all. You suppressed a sigh, you knew it wouldn't be long, two days at most, before everything would be back to normal and the Havoc Maurauder was back.

Tech came in behind you and looked around as well, though you were sure he already knew what it was like inside. You continued to look around, ignoring for the moment that Tech was following you.

Finally you turned and looked at him when he eventually asked you, "How did you and Rex...? Become friends?"

Oh, that's going through his mind now....

"Back on Ord Mantell, in a bar. A guy couldn't take no for an answer and got physical. Rex was in the bar, he was watching the situation and finally intervened when it got out of hand. He saved me that night. Since then, we kept meeting at Cid's place. I went on a few missions with him and.... we saved each other's lives on those missions from time to time. Well, honestly, he saved me more times than I saved him."

Tech scratched the back of his head and thought for a moment before asking, "How close are you, anyway? Just... Friends? It looked like you guys were really close friends."

He was still wearing his helmet, you noted. Probably to hide himself. He didn't want you to read his face, but you didn't have to, because his voice and posture gave away enough to tell you he was nervous again.

"Well, I think when you save each other repeatedly, it creates a certain bond. But why? What are you implying?"

"Nothing! I just ... it looked like ..."

"It almost looked like you were having a romantic relationship," Echo, who had snuck up behind Tech, interrupted him impatiently.

Tech flinched in surprise, and you were sure he was all red under his helmet.

You giggled, "Rex and I, a romantic relationship with each other? No, that's really not the case and never has been. But I think he is probably my closest friend, there is no one I trust as much as him."

Echo smiled kindly and tapped Tech on the shoulder, "Maybe over time we can change that and you can add a few more people to your list that you can trust unconditionally."

You smiled at him and said frankly, "I'd love to. So far, you're well on your way to making it onto that list."

When Echo left the ship for a moment, you acted on an impulse that had long tickled you. You reached for Tech's helmet and pulled it off his head.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he asked indignantly.

When you kissed him on the mouth, gently pressing your lips to his, he fell abruptly silent and the blush shot back up his face.

When you broke away from his lips, he looked at you with wide eyes behind his goggles.

"More?" you asked simply.

He nodded silently, cheeks still flushed.

Echo walked in, "Hey guys look what I-ooookay, I'll- um come back later".

[garoujo]

Ohhh… Naked Gojo in a hot tub. Yes please! I’m drooling…

Hot tub at night, snowy mountain retreat, so quiet and peaceful.

“Better sit in my lap, don’t want my sweet girl getting cold” He’s going to make it worth your while. Hands all over, his lips against your neck, then chest, and before you know it he’s got you riding him.

“I wanna hear you scream my name. I wanna hear your sweet voice echoing off the mountains.” As the snow falls quietly around you both.

aaaahajaakka hot tub gojo ˚‧º·(´ฅωฅ｀)‧º·˚ I AM DYING THINKING BOUT THIS !!! going so insane rn i can’t ajjajaka believe dis . omgosh my stomach is doing flips rn gaaaaawd <333 heart eyes so bad 4 this scenario ! i neeeed him !

[bace-jeleren]

I would like to introduce you to Kayley

Yes that Kayley -- Knight of the Round Table

She's also a filthy thief (ignore my messy room oh mai gaaaaawd)

Lady Kayley, it's an honor to finally meet you- may I scratch you behind the ears????

[accioprompts]

murdered my ego when you walked away 💀

Oh my gaaaaawd yes!! And that LINE!!!

[silviakundera]

(MDZS read thoughts)

wait wait NOBODY PREPARED ME for the post kidnapped juniors Burial Mounds scene!!! Where Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji lure all the corpses to them to fight to the death, and their fav juniors keep trying to join them and IT'S SO BEAUTIFUL THOSE DUMB SWEET KIDS 😭 but then they're getting overrun! and it turns out when the sects stormed the Burial Mounds 16 years ago they horribly murdered the Wen remnants (they stoned Granny to death????? GDI WHAT IS WRONG W U) and they just dumped all their bodies in the blood pool? Because why properly bury them, of course they're not people. BECAUSE ALL THE SECTS ARE THE F*CKING WORST, YES ALL OF THEM and now the dead Wen remnants' bodies raise up as terrifying corpse monsters to save Wei Wuxian and the people he cares about JUST LIKE HE ONCE SAVED THEM, BEFORE HE WENT MAD, BEFORE HE FELL APART, WHEN HE WAS JUST TRYING TO DO A GOOD THING BUT HE WAS A SCARED TRAUMATIZED VICTIM OF WAR WHOSE BEST WASN'T EVER GOING TO BE GOOD ENOUGH 😭😭😭

oh gaaaaawd Sizhui recognizes them in his heart and is not afraid!!!! It's gruesome and yet so touching and IT'S THE LITERAL POWER OF LOVE TRIUMPHING OVER DEATH. And Wen Ning scrambling to gather their ashes afterwards and my darling juniors trying to help.

THE WEN REMNANTS DID THAT. Just.... why didn't anyone warn me, I'm going to cry forever 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

[octaviadblake]

@braveprincess replied to your post “@braveprincess replied to your post “braveprincess replied to your...”

gaaaaawd i was going to say clarke as antigone and its so accurate but i cant take that

she does absolutely deeserve to snap my god i just want her to go bonkers

but clarke as antigone would just be SO FITTING like. would i cry? yes. would it work so well in the narrative? yes. is jroth smart enough to figure that out? lmfao absolutely fucking not. 

[starsidexiv]

Alastor stood over you as he held one of your hands. He showed you his ever lasting grin before he leaned down and placed kisses on your cheek. "My sweet~" He hummed against your skin. (Yes this is happening XDDD)

I began to blush profusely, feeling weak at the knees from Alastor’s soft kisses. “Oh, Al, you’re too kind~” (OH MY GAAAAAWD)

[ohkimani]

YES TAYLOR GIVE ME THIS EARLY 2000s ALBUM,MAKE IT ANGRY WITH A SIDE OF REVENGE MA, SPRINKLE SOME CLASS ON IT AND SEND IT TO THE GAAAAAWDS MEDUSA!!!!!

[gotham-ruaidh]

Just saw your 'I love you' post. Gaaaaawd! I LOVE those two! Was wondering if you could help me out, there's a scene I keep remembering, but I can't seem to place it, whether it was in the books or just a fic lol, but it's a scene where C/J are in a lean to or something and he's asking if she wants a baby, she says no but she loves him. It isn't on your list so just wondering if I'm imagining things or did that happen at some point?

Hi anon - it’s a scene from The Fiery Cross.

For context: Jamie and Claire have come into possession of a baby who is all alone in the world, abandoned by her mother and no father in sight. Being in such close proximity to this baby reminds Claire of when she carried Brianna - and Faith - and she gets to thinking about how Jamie never saw her hold either of their children.

Jamie is acutely aware of this. He is also aware that he and Claire have come across a newborn who is clearly in need - and, as they have so many times before, he is prepared to take this child into his family.

“If ye want the child, Claire, I will take her, and manage whatever comes.”

If I wanted her. I could feel the soft weight of the child, sleeping on my breast. I had forgotten the intoxication of motherhood for years; pushed aside the memory of the feelings of exaltation, exhaustion, panic, delight. Having Germain and Jemmy and Joan nearby, though, had reminded me vividly.

“And manage whatever comes.” Here Jamie makes clear that he wants what Claire wants. If she wants the child, he’ll raise it as his own - like he did with Fergus, and Marsali, and (later) Fannie.

Especially because he so wants to give Claire the gift of motherhood.

“For my sake,” he said firmly, addressing the air in front of him as though it were a tribunal, “I dinna want ye to bear another child. I wouldna risk your loss, Sassenach,” he said, his voice suddenly husky. “Not for a dozen bairns. I’ve daughters and sons, nieces and nephews, grandchildren—weans enough.”

He looked at me directly then, and spoke softly.

“But I’ve no life but you, Claire.”

He swallowed audibly, and went on, eyes fixed on mine.

“I did think, though . . . if ye do want another child . . . perhaps I could still give ye one.”

Here Jamie plainly shows Claire - admits to her, for the first time ever - that he feels...inadequate, or guilty that he couldn’t have given her more children during their younger years. So he will do whatever it takes to give her more. In whatever way he can.

Because he loves her so deeply. Always puts her first.

And Claire knows this. It takes her breath away.

And reminds her that she doesn’t need to care for another child - not at this point in her life. She’s been there and done that. That phase of her life is other.

She needs to remind Jamie that she doesn’t resent him, or feel bad, that they weren’t able to conceive more children.

And she needs to remind him just how deeply she admires and appreciates him, and his selflessness, and his sacrifices.

I knew. As a mother, I had the lightness now of effort complete, honor satisfied. Mission accomplished.

I leaned my forehead against his chest and spoke into the shadowed cloth above his heart.

“No,” I said softly. “But, Jamie . . . I so love you.”

[wondercookieunicorn]

Ye idk why sm keeps fucking them over but what's done is done ig 🤷🏻‍♂️ as for mission 5 i think we gotta make sth for the person we've been sending asks to, so i gotta make sth for you and you gotta make sth for the person youve been sending asks to etc (completely different topic, do you like to read blurbs?) - 🌱💚

Odksjdks I literally just combusted into 467846 particles of glitter and I- 💖

Omg dks I love you so much, this is so cute oh gaaaaawd I wish I'd have talent smh

Also yea I love blurbs but you already made me combust so- ✨💞

I don't wanna destroy the blurb so I'm pulling this all into this one skdkdk

Also sorry for my drunk ass yesterday I- I wasn't myself rkdkrkr 😩

[captainpoopweinersoldier]

Oh my gaaaaawd! Yes! I can always count on you for these fabulous ideas!! Ohhh what shall we name it?! It has to be something majestic!!

Do you have any headcanons for Volva Lis?

I mean, not really, it’s not an idea I’ve actually taken time to develop on top of what I already have going for her lol but I think her love of science would translate seamlessly into that role. While I picture her being very powerful, I also see her having this just curious fascination with Seiðr that keeps her inquisitive and forever learning instead of just flaunting her skill whenever she can.

She might spend a lot of time alone deep in the woods experimenting. From her travels she has probably learned to write, so she’s able to keep journals - because it’s not proper research if you don’t write it down! And of course the Vikings would find her ‘odd’ and probably be a little wary of her after rumors of Aslaug got so haphazardly tossed around.. And really she’s still just a nerd who barely socializes and whose best friend is like a bird or something. 

I also kind of just obsess over ideas for the clothes she might wear/appearance in general. Heavy cloaks with enormous hoods, boots covered in an inch of cracked dirt. Hair always a wild mess of curls that often has a twig or 4 sticking out. 

And she wouldn’t change a thing as Ivar’s Queen. I can easily picture them sitting side by side on their thrones. Ivar in his armor and chainmail with Lisbet at his right in her seriously dark, blood red cloak. Probably an over the top, thick plated, golden necklace bestowed upon her by Ivar.

Okay maybe I thought of a little bite more than I let on XD