#i love leopard print so much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

trashmouth-richie · 2 months ago

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𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 — eddie x fem reader (7.1k)

summary: 2011– your roommate drags you to a frat party and ditches the second she sees the guy she’s been fucking. left by yourself, you meet someone by accident, someone who isn’t in the fraternity

warnings: smut, underage drinking, p in v, unprotected sex, grinding, dancing, eddie is trying to be cocky but he’s just awkward and silly

notes: i had a blast deep diving back into my hs and college days to reminisce with this. i hope if you were growing up during this time you can giggle along with me. love youuu oooh! also i hid some easter eggs in here (they’re not hidden at all)

The basement was steamy, and not in a ‘oh it’s a little warm in here but more like, every single person is drunk off their ass and the walls are sweating’kind of way.

College was everything you’d hoped it to be and more.

Your roommate, Kenzie was the type of girl who had an ‘open closet’ policy letting you wear her clothes almost more than your own. You weren’t too keen on sharing a dorm room with a girl you’ve never met before, but thankfully—you had gotten lucky.

You had heard the horror stories from your older sister about her terrible roommate freshman year and you worried for most of the summer that you’d strike the same type of fortune. It wasn’t until you got a friend request on Facebook and a cheery little message :

[Kenzie Walmen 2:07 PM: heyyyy roomie (;]

that you knew you had nothing to worry about.

She was from the west coast in sunny California, that bright western sky seeped deep into her personality. Kenz was sun kissed and bright haired, pretty ocean dipped eyes to give her the All-American type of aesthetic that most girls wished for. And maybe it was her laid back disposition, or her thrill for living it up and every hour of the day— that landed you here tonight at Delta Kappa Sigma.

It wasn’t your scene.

You weren’t shy or new to getting drunk, you had even been so brave to take the occasional hit from a homemade bong in your neighbors dorm a few times, but the frat parties were known for their out of control Project X style of getting shitfaced.

And something about guys with too much testosterone and too much Adidas cologne made your skin crawl and not in a good way.

“Prints always look weird on me,” you grumble into the mirror eyeing your curves in a leopard lace tank top and black skirt, “is it too much?”

Kenzie adjusts her off-the-shoulder top, adding a bit of shimmer powder to her exposed shoulder, “absolutely not, if anything it’s not enough.” Neon feathers decorate her bouncy curled hair as she eyes you in the mirror, “add that silver chunky necklace, and you’ll look bomb.”

She was right, the necklace really pulled the entire look together, and if it were Halloween weekend you could even pass as a Spice Girl or maybe Snookie.

“Sooo, is Steve gonna be there tonight?” You ask elongating the vowels in the aforementioned name, followed by some kissy faces and porn worthy moans.

Kenzie rolls her eyes, a dusting of pink warming her cheeks, “yeah… about that. He said he has a “surprise” for me when I get there, so if I disappear, I’m just with him, okay?”

“Wait wait wait—” you protest, holding a death grip clutch on a bottle of UV blue. “We aren’t even at the party yet and you’re already planning on ditching me?”

—

And that’s what got you here, a little more than drunk, holding a piss warm Green apple flavored Four Loko to your mouth, leaning against the corner basement wall in hopes to maybe disappear, wishing you were anywhere but in this cesspool of basement.

The “DJ” (a frat guy wearing neon glasses with bars across them, scrolling through an ipod and a playlist more than likely named ‘Get Crunk’) was playing Kid Cudi, again. Everyone was screaming along to the chorus like he personally wrote it for them and their experience at college. A headache was brewing behind your eyes as the beat thumped loudly into your chest and radiated to your temples.

Kenzie left almost immediately upon arriving. Swooped up and tossed over the broad shoulder of Steve the minute he answered the door. You laughed and shook your head, imagining how she was probably face down in navy cum stained sheets by now.

The hours she spent on her hair and makeup went to waste, only being seen by the dead catalog eyes of Playboy’s finest from their pinned positions on the walls of Steve’s shared bedroom.

Another sip from the overly carbonated beverage has you shuddering, the fiery ripple of fruit flavored [vomit] alcohol scouring through you like lava, causing your face to screw into a disgusted look.

How can people drink this shit?

Your bladder screams at you to break the seal, demanding to find relief, immediately. The black lights were zero help in disguising if there were any doors that might lead into a bathroom. Pushing from the wall and taking the last hot sip from your drink, you navigate your way to the stairs.

A table holding lone solo cups in formation from a forgotten beer pong game is now the proud owner of your empty can.

Weaving through the jungle of fist pumping douchelords and tipsy sorority girls making out for risqué facebook pics labeled [*~Freshman Y3ar!~*] you finally emerge from the sweaty pits of fraternity hell and climb the beer stained steps to the main floor.

The monotonous beat from the music thumped a little less loudly up here, as if the noise was absorbed by the maroon colored carpeting and the oak cabinets in the foyer.

The house was dated, decorated with a clash of orangey dark wood mixed with emeralds, dark reds and gold. As if this house was based out of Tuscany instead of midwest nowhere— complete with the rubbery fake fruit and vines that stood solely to collect dust.

You had never been here before and didn’t know where in the hell to start looking to find the bathroom, and like Alice, you figured you might as well try every door knob in this type of Wonderland.

The first door you peeked into looked like it was a formal dining room, but instead sat a television on the great oval table blasting obnoxiously loud as a pornstar moaned ripples of “pleasure” through her pink pout. Above her was an extremely tanned guy rocking a set of hard abs, thrusting in a slow rhythm that didn’t match her orgasm.

A snicker slips from your lips and you gently pull the door closed with a small click, loud whoops and whistling from what you could only assume were a couple of frat guys erupt behind the door.

Watching porn together.

You’ll have to add that to your growing list of things you didn’t know about the brotherhood behind a fraternity.

The second door looked more hopeful as it was adjacent to the kitchen area. Upon nearly peeing down your leg, you were shocked stupid when you yanked the door open to find a closet housed with cleaning supplies.

What the fuck?

How could a frat house not have a bathroom?

Your bladder squeezed in on itself and you were certain you couldn’t hold it any longer. Just short of giving up on this quest of relief and going back to your dorm, a gaggle of girls run down the steps leading to the top floor, where you could only assume the bedrooms were.

“…why are frat bathrooms always so fucking dirty?!”

Bingo.

Hustling up the never ending carpeted stairs, your bladder was on the brink of exploding as you shoved past a wooden door with a paper sign that read, “no jerking off in the shower!! pipes are clogged!”

Your sandals clapped along the sea foam tiles floors as you slipped into one of the many metal stall doors. With a swift hike of your skirt up to your middle and pull of your panties, you were finally able to pee.

A choir of angels sang the HallelujahHallelejuah chorus as you went and you sighed in relief that you had made it.

“..yeah yeah, okay asshole,” a loud voice sounded from just outside the bathroom door frame, “you still owe me from last time,” the voice now echoed as it hit against the tiles and cement block walls, “no, payment is cold hard cash buddy, I don’t care if you have to dip into your trust fund.”

A pair of black docs stomp into the tiled bathroom, nearing the stall you were in. There's no way he’ll come to this stall.

“Tell daddy that you need more money for polos or Jordan’s— I really don’t give a fuck, but you need to pay the fuck up.”

But as fate would have it…and in your hurry to get to the toilet before pissing all over yourself… and forgetting to lock the door in your haste… the stall door swings wide open— revealing a very bottomless you, to a pair of very wide dark, deer-in-the-headlight eyes.

A beat that feels like an eternity passes, his hand is choked against his belt in a yank to unthread it, his phone wedged between his shoulder and ear. Your hands fly to cover yourself the best you can, panties still at your ankles, skirt still around your midsection.

It’s all yells and screams with this random guy stumbling over himself dropping his phone on the ground and spewing, “Shit! Sorry! Sorry!” and you yelling for him to shut the fucking door already.

His apologies don’t stop as he pulls the door closed, and from the other side of it as you pull up your underwear and adjust your skirt.

“I swear! I didn’t think anyone was in there! I promise!”

Your face burns in embarrassment as you contemplate melting into the floor and becoming one with the poorly aimed piss stains and the dirty grout. As good as that sounds you still have to leave, you still have to pass the guy who just saw your bare vag and you still have to navigate your way out of here.

His phone lays face down on the floor, and you pray it isn’t broken for his sake. You pick it up, flipping it over to see that it scathed by with just a fine crack from one corner to another. His screen saver is a picture of a group of guys in a skatepark in the dark, smoke billowing thickly to cover their faces as they stand on the boards, the one with dark longer hair is shirtless, and painted with tattoos.

“Shit,” you breathe quietly, “your phone is cracked.”

You can see the shadows of his feet pacing back and forth but when you speak they stop, “oh..,” he mumbles, clearing his throat a bit, “umm, yeah, no biggie it was broke like that already.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah— hey, if you wanna slide that under the door I can um, let you ..ahem.. finish up in there.”

Shit. Duh he needed his phone, and you were just holding it hostage in here as your shame hung thickly in the air. God this might really couldn’t get any fucking worse.

A deep breath in through your nose, you fake a mask of confidence and open the stall door.

You hadn’t gotten a good look at him when he barged in on you, but now in the fluorescent dust covered light you dared to look a little longer at him.

Long locks of honeyed brown locks fell onto the tops of his shoulders, covered with a green plaid flannel that hung open showing his neck and a flick of dark lines from a tattoo hidden under a black band tank top. His eyes were just as brown, round and flocked with a grove of thick lashes. Clearly he was the shirtless one in his background picture.

He smiled sheepishly, pulling his jaw taunt as he averted his gaze to the toe of his boots, noticing your hand stretched out before him to give him back his phone, he glanced at your face, skimming his hand over your palm.

“Thanks— uh…” he started, shifting his weight to lean back against the many rows of sinks, “sorry again, I promise I don’t normally walk in on ladies using the facilities.”

His eyes met yours and you instantly felt a heat run to your throat, his lips were impossibly plump as he drew them into a tight smirk.

Fuck are those dimples? Of course they were. God he’s so pretty.

You smile, “normal people lock the stall, but I was in a hurry… well I was lost!” you exclaim in a huff, fully hands on hips annoyed, “why the fuck would the bathroom be on the top floor?”

You asked him incredulously like he should know. But on second thought…

“uhh… I dunno,” he shrugs, sliding his phone into the front pocket of his light wash colored jeans, not even looking at the broken screen as he leaned back again, “I’m not exactly an architect.”

“But you live here?” you question, turning on the sink to wet your hands, “haven’t they ever thought of putting even a half bath on the main floor?”

He rumbles out a laugh that makes your cheeks tingle, your buzz still in full force, “nah, you got it all wrong, I’m not a member of the ‘fraternity brotherhood of Alpha Mega Steroid’”, he jokes with air quotes, smiling wide when your lips tick up at the ends. “But I am a frequent guest, of sorts…”

This guy seemed to be one of those people who can make a nun blush, witty and dripping with a sexual charm that radiated from him like a ray of fucking sunshine. And fuck that grin of his. You’re in trouble.

“Ahh, okay,” you banter back easily, shaking your hands to dry them since there were no paper towels in sight, “which one is your boyfriend? Let’s see I know.. Kyle? I think is his name, reddish hair, kinda feminine hands, or are you fucking Steve because I gotta say, I think my roommate might be giving you a run for your money right now.”

Eddie’s eyes light up, a quirk in his brow as he asks, “Blonde girl? Kinda naive, head over heels for that mop of perfectly styled hair? Shit, what’s her name…Kelly? Kitten? She’s your roommate?”

Of course he would know her, Kenzie knows everyone, and seems to leave a kind of impression on people that you envied. As bright as she shined, you were the shadow behind her.

“Yeah,” you say, not hiding your annoyance, remembering how you got into this predicament in the first place.

Eddie looks just as pissed as you’re feeling, “Oh, Stevie boy and I will be having words later on his lack of tact. They’re the reason why I was out wondering the halls like a fuckin’ ghost in a haunted mansion.”

He takes note that you’re in the same boat he’s in but in your case, it’s a little worse, being a girl alone in a frat house never ends well.

“I’m Eddie, uhh…designated dealer,” he says in almost a whisper, “for the deep pocketed asshoels full of daddy’s money.”

You connect a few dots, realization hitting hard in your frontal lobe from conversations you’ve kind of listened to from Kenzie about Steve.

“Ahh, okay… now that you mention it, Kenz has talked about you before. You’re Steve’s old friend, Munson? I thought she meant like a forty year old or something.”

He laughs, loud and belly rolling like, “nah, minus a twenty from that. Steve and I are just close friends ‘s all… and no, not boyfriends.”

You laugh then, all bubbly and light hearted that has his own skipping beats. Saying your name, he repeats it, a little grin on his face that he tries to hide, “mm that’s cute.”

“Cute?” you question, an eyebrow raised as you fold your arms in on themselves, poking a hip out.

“Yeah… cute,” he says standing fully and peering down at you, “your name is very fitting for you.”

You roll your eyes playfully at his flirty words. Even though your stomach is somersaulting at the way his eyes seem to drip from heaven when he looks at you, your cheeks heating beneath his gaze.

“Is this the part where we exchange our hometowns and majors, because I’d rather get run over than do that right now.”

Eddie chuckles, “oh yeah, well I’m actually here on an athletic scholarship.”

“Really?” you question, eyebrows cocked in disbelief.

“Yes!” Eddie jokes back, trying to bite back a smile, “if you must know it’s for Tennis, but please don't bother me for an autograph. I'm just trying to be a normal guy tonight.”

“Noted.” You giggle, admiring the way this banter is coming so easily, maybe it was the liquid courage taking over or the fact that he was actually fun to talk to— either way, this night is starting to take a turn for the better.

“So, what does a Tennis star/designated rich boy drug dealer usually do at these kinds of things besides bursting in on girls using the bathroom?”

He smiles, dipping his chin and looking at you through those impossibly thick lashes. Pushing off the sink he asks, “Sell a little here and there, sometimes dip into my own stash…what do you usually do at these things?”

“Well,” you tease, twisting on the ball of your foot and heading towards the door out to the hallway, “I’m not usually at these things.”

“Ohh my god,” Eddie preens in his best valley girl/ Kourtney Kardashian impression, “you’ve never been to frat party!?”

You smile, at his stupid joke, “Noo, I haven’t actually. Kenzie drug me out for a little pick me up after we bombed our History midterm, to…y’know— live it up— YOLO, all that.”

“Okay okay, letting off some steam after the stress of class, I get it...school was never a cake walk for me either.”

“Yeah! But then your friend snatched her up, and since I don’t know anyone here… I was doing a very impressive wall flower guise, until my bladder interrupted that… and then a guy barged in on me in the bathroom.”

Eddie stalks towards you, his eyes roving over your body, “Well… now you know me, soo Miss Lady Wallflower,” he cracks, “shall we descend to the basement and keep this party going?”

His infectious smile stretches wide, practically ear to ear and you find yourself grinning just as wide, trying to twist your lips to at least hide your enthusiasm a little bit but goddamn— something about the way those dimples compliment the fucking christmas twinkle in his eyes.. ugh.

He was trouble. The kind you had always craved but never dabbled in. But when in Rome…

“Lead the way.”

—

Eddie had made a pit stop in the large kitchen before returning to the basement.

“Now sweetheart,” he purred, fishing around the shelves, of a pantry, moving cans of food and bags of chips, “I didn’t plan on drinking more tonight, but I’m not gonna let you drink by your— aha!”

Eddie stands upright, brandishing a large box of saltine crackers. Your eyebrows furrow in response and he bows low, puts his hand inside the box, “I present to you, Stevie’s not so secret hiding spot,” pulling out his hand, his fingers are wrapped around a bottle of Burnett’s Vodka.

Your eyes widen with devilish glee as you smirk, “how did you know it’d be there?”

Eddie unscrews the cap and puts it to his lips for a long six second pull.

You weren’t watching the way his throat bobbed and gulped when he swallowed each burning swig. Nope, not at all. You definitely weren’t memorizing each valley of cords and muscles as a single drop fell to his sharp chin and jaw. Never, not you!

And you weren’t holding your breath right along with him only breathing when those fucking glorious thick lips popped clean from the mouth of that bottle… his lips shiny from the bitter alcohol like a gloss you desperately need to lick clean. Yeah… no. that was not you…

So it’s only fitting when he speaks hoarsely and clears his throat that you are snapped back to the moment, your core keeping its own pulse.

“He’s been keeping vodka in the same box in a food pantry since we were in high school, guy is the most unoriginal bastard I know,” he shrugs, wiping his lips with the back of his hand, and you can’t help but almost pout in the wasted opportunity.

His eyes meet yours and they look just as hungry as you were feeling. He smirks crookedly and you practically flatline from the depth those molasses colored eyes hold. He moved first, inching towards you like a wolf stalking its prey, your pretty chapstick smile daring him to come closer.

But the fuse between you is snuffed out cold as a crying girl erupts from the basement steps, her gaggle of friends helping calm her down as they leave the house.

Eddie shakes his head and clears his throat as if he was just as bothered by you as you were of him. Turning towards the fridge he asks, “I’m sure they’ve got some Sunny D you can chase this with if that’s cool?”

—

The basement proved to be in the same situation you had left it in: hot, sweaty, sticky.

“Fuck,” Eddie breathes hotly behind you, loud enough to hear him above the music, “it’s like a furnace down here, no wonder that girl was crying.”

You lead him to the corner you were tucked in before, your drink still sitting on the beer pong table. By the way he is standing you can tell that this really isn’t his scene either, but after a while of passing the vodka and orange juice back and forth between you, he seems to loosen up a bit. His shoulders relax as his back leans against the wall next to you.

Eddie’s words slurring together as his stories became more and more animated, and you giggle along, never taking your eyes off of him. Completely enamored.

Your stomach burned with a flurry of butterflies when a few of his clients came up to him to buy, each more nervous than the next. Eyeing you suspiciously, questioning if you were some sort of a narc.

Eddie stepped ahead of you, his shoulders squared and chest out to casually announce that you were cool and were with him.

You didn’t know that he was waiting for you to object to it, to shove away from him and call him a pig for even assuming that you’d ever be seen with the likes of him besides in the dark, but you never did.

Hours pass and the music just gets worse. Wiz Khalifa starts singing about colors and Eddie looks at the crowd of people grinding and rolls his eyes.

The alcohol has you feeling tingly, a buzzing of flirtation sparks your blood and you are closer to Eddie than ever, the smell of his musky cologne and laundry detergent invade you.

Like any drunk girl, you start getting antsy, a little more touchy, and a lot more feely. Standing around isn’t cutting it anymore and you want to move, toss your hair back to some cheesy song, want to feel those hands you’ve been staring at all night run along your body as your hips move against him.

Running your forefinger along the inside seam of Eddie’s flannel shirt, you look up at him through your lashes.

“I’m assuming you’re not one to dance to a club remix?”

Eddie watches your finger stroke up and down, your knuckles barely grazing his abdomen, but the small touch sending electricity to his spine.

He leans into you, following your lead and pinching the hem of your skirt between his large fingers “you’d assume correct, the music I listen to is a little more head bangy than this.”

“So,” you say coyly, pulling him towards you just a fraction more, “what you’re really saying is that you can’t dance.”

Eddie scoffs, throwing his head back, his throat sticky with sweat and the hair by his ears wet and curling into ringlets, “oh I can dance my ass off honey, taught Channing Tatum everything he knows.”

His hands find your hips, and you almost lose the little bit of confidence you have gained when the warmth of them seeps through your shirt, his blunt nails skimming your skin in small strokes.

“Do these little white lies masked as dorky ass pickup lines work for you?” Your hands are on his chest now, the black light illuminating each letter of his Deftones shirt to sparkle like snow beneath your fingers.

“I don’t know,” he whispers into your ear, pulling you tight against him so your chest is pressed into his, “you tell me.”

The music changes and a throwback song

comes on, one you haven’t heard in years.

“Guess you’ll have to show me those moves, because in typical drunk girl fashion… this is my song!”

You grab Eddie’s hand and stomp to the middle of the floor, pulling him along with you until you’re shoulder to shoulder with other drunk and sweaty college kids.

“Get low?” Eddie asks from behind you, his mouth dangerously close to the shell of your ear as his hands land heavy on your hips, “seriously?”

Leaning your head back so your lips could reach him you talk loud enough just so he can hear you, “stop talking and fucking dance with me already.”

“Goddamn…” he groans when you finally push your body fully back into him.

It’s sloppy and horribly uncoordinated the way your drunken hips move beneath his hands. You’re both swaying along with the music, trying like hell to match the rhythm of everyone else around you. But in the tiny square footage you have in this cluster fuck of a space, Eddie has all the right moves.

His palms are pressing you tighter into him, making sure you can feel just how hard he is, how hard you are making him.

Courage and a few prom night dances under your belt have you dropping low and coming up slow, your skirt fanning out the tiniest bit as your knees are bent to the ground.

And Eddie is practically thanking God himself when you run the fattest part of your ass up his body, on the bunched denim by his shins, skimming the barely there fabric of your skirt against the hole in his knee, and finally up where he desperately needs your body the most.

When you come back up he moves your hair from the side of your neck, his lips puckering around your earlobe as he nibbles lightly, “spin around so I can see you.”

He groans again when you shake your head and laugh at his dismay, as much as he is turned on and bothered you are too, but the power of keeping him like this, teasing him with your body— turned you on even more.

You snake your hands upwards seductively, landing daintily at the nape of his neck, twirling the wet tendrils of curls round and round pulling gently. Eddie hisses through his teeth, his hands roaming freely from your hips to your ribcage running them along the length of your sides, bruisingly hard.

One minute you’re facing away from him, eyes closed in pleasure as he roves over your body, his lips pressed to your neck, and in the next he’s spinning you around so that you’re face to face— eyes locked on eachother, the heat and the alcohol and the endorphins are too much to handle.

Your once labored breathing snuffs out to nothing when he leans in with licked lips his eyes fixated on your mouth. Standing. Staring. Staring and standing. You’ve had enough of this cat and mouse game.

“Fucking kiss me alrea—”

His mouth with its plush pillow lips slam into you. He tastes like tart orange juice and a bite of alcohol. Like the way a summer day would taste if it were bottled up. He licks into your mouth and you whine for more of him, clutching onto his neck and pulling him further into you.

When you break for air it’s loud, smacking lips and lapping tongues, tilting your heads to line up perfectly. When you twist yours again, Eddie holds onto your neck angling it just so with a glint of trouble in those whiskey eyes as he dives into the supple skin at the column of your throat.

Sucking, swirling— his tongue is hot against you and you’re clutching onto his shoulders, your nails digging into the pilling fabric like he was the only thing keeping you Earthbound.

You wiggle in his arms, squealing and whining out but he’s holding you tightly against him, moaning words into your neck that you can’t hear above the music. Then he’s on your mouth again, working you into a fit. His big veiny hands move along your back, grabbing your ass softly, then work up to wrap in your hair or lightly scratch at the inch of skin between your skirt and your tank top.

Doing your own little damage to him, his shirt is shoved up over his chest, your fingernails trailing down his tattooed skin. A rise of goosebumps following in their tracks, and he stops kissing you to suck in a breath, your smile on his lips as you laugh and he whispers a breathy ‘fuuuuck’.

Your fingers trail down to his waist band, tickling his skin as you suggest an idea with your eyes, one that you’re certain he would understand.

“C’mon,” he mouths, gesturing his chin to the exit as he slowly begins to pull you from the dance floor, up the stairs and into the kitchen area.

Eddie knew what he wanted. Knew it the second you walked out of that stall with that sweet fucking smile on your lips, shy and coy when he called your name cute, like you weren’t at all used to the type of attention he was giving.

And maybe you didn’t want this with him. Maybe you were a: ‘fuck-me-in-the-dark-so-I-won’t-be-embarrassed-by-being-seen-with-you’ type of girl, but you did dance with him, you laughed at his stupid jokes, stuck by him almost all night, but still he needed to be sure.

He thought maybe in the brighter light you’d change your mind about what you wanted, what you needed from him, but you surprise him when you cling to his side, going up the steps, and backing into a wall pulling him with you by his shirt needily when you reach the top.

“D’ you uh..wanna get outta here?” he slurs, almost sleepily, his bangs fucked up beyond belief, his hair drenched and sticky with sweat and humidity, lips swollen red.

“My dorm isn’t far,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes running your finger along the waist of his jeans, “across campus.”

Eddie chuckles, “fuck…” he sweeps a thumb over your pouted lips, groaning as he bites his own. “I’d crawl to fuckin’ Alaska for these, honey.”

Your cheeks burn sweetly from his inebriated compliments. And even though you’re tipsy and so is he, you feel an odd sort of comfort with him—one you haven’t experienced before.

“Let’s go then,” you whisper into his ear, “I want you inside me.”

That did it for him.

Eddie was all but running with you across the campus green, but not before taking off his long sleeved shirt and placing it over your shoulders murmuring how it was freezing and you’d probably get sick.

Your combined laughter ricocheted off concrete forums and neatly trimmed grass. Passing by the fancy Chemistry Lab building, the Art Museum, the Med School and finally to your painted black brick dorm building: “Wheeler Hall”

“Here’s home,” you sing out, placing your key into the door and pulling on the steel handle.

The Wheeler Dorms were the newest addition to the college town. Named after a family that was killed in an accident back in the 80’s or something… you didn’t really remember what happened.

The side door you had come in through was closest to your room, 011, on the first floor, again, the universe being kind to you.

“Never been here before,” Eddie said looking around with wide eyes, “any of the dorms actually.”

You smiled upon unlocking your room and entering, hanging up your keys on the command strip hooks by the door. Whatever confidence he had back at the party is now deflated a bit once he realizes just how different the two of you are. What the hell was he doing here? You’re in college, he’s only here because he deals.

“Uhh..?” he questions, eyeing the lofted bed, “you know I was joking about being an athlete, right?”

You giggle and toss your purse onto the futon, “relax, that’s Kenzie’s bed, mine is the shorter one.”

“Oh thank fuck,” he practically sings letting out an over exaggerated sigh as he plops down on your futon, eyeing the leopard throw blanket, “I may look like a suave Casanova but I’m about as agile as Mr. Bean.”

Laughter fills the room and you click on a lamp throwing the room into a cozy ambience as you slip off your sandals and sit on your bed, leaning forward, “you’re way hotter than him.”

Eddie blushes a bubble gum pink sheen, using his still damp and unruly hair to cover his face, “keep being sweet on me see where it gets you.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat, or a promise?”

“Oh baby, I don’t make threats, not to a girl that’s like you.”

“Like me?”

“Yeah you,” he deadpans, standing up and waltzing towards your bed, crowding you in, “funny, sexy, and by some greater power— digs me… at least I hope.”

“I’m not the type of girl to bring a guy back to my place, Eddie,” you nearly whisper, putting a finger into his dangling necklace and pulling him forward, “you’d be the first.”

Eddie places his hands next you on the bed, “like your first? Or just here in college first, I’m cool with either I just— are you sure you want this? I can leave if y—”

Cutting him off you kiss him, but not like the heavy kisses earlier when you two were making out like you were each other's oxygen masks, this one is sweet, like melted sugar on Eddie’s tongue.

“You talk too much,” you say with a warm smile, wrapping a finger around his curled ends of hair, “no more of that, just kiss me.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Eddie wraps his arm around your waist and shifts you up further into the bed, laying your head on a pillow his body pressed into yours. He takes his time with you, kissing your lips then your jaw, working his way down your neck to where the bruises he’s already sucked into your skin were painted.

Your moans and little breathy sighs have him hard against his zipper, his hips bucking into the tiny fabric of your panties that’s covering up that sweet pussy he got a glimpse of earlier.

His shirt is somewhere on the floor, you had pried it off of him between locked lips and groans of having to move your lips from his that earned you a throaty laugh from him and the sexiest eyes that drove into you with an intense ferocity.

He lowers further down your body, kissing every inch, moving your tank top out of the way to eye your orange bra, his mouth between your cleavage, moaning about how orange is now his favorite color.

Eddie’s everywhere all at once, a hand traveling up and down your thigh, from the crux of your knee to the waistband of your skirt, the other hand is popping your tits out from that new found favorite colored bra of his —smiling wickedly at your peaked nipples.

You moan lustful bliss as his tongue circles each one, giving equal attention to both, “you like that?” he asks.

“Feels so good,” you whine, “more, please.”

Eddie smirks with your nipple between his teeth, “don’t have to ask me twice.”

You weren’t a virgin, but holy shit you felt as if you had never had sex before, well never sex like this. Eddie teased you with his fingers, his thumb rubbing your clit while his fingers pumped inside of you, each curling inward towards a place nobody has reached before.

He groaned with his bottom lip tucked between his sharp bite rubbing his achy cock through his jeans when you pushed your skirt down laying there in a matching orange lacey thong, bedazzled on the hips.

“Would it be corny if I say you look like a Goddess?” he asks sheepishly, pinching the stretching fabric around your hips, “because… wow.”

You bite your finger as if you were really thinking hard on this, hiding a smile, “you’re too much, Munson.”

“Too much?” he scoffs, pulling down your panties and settling himself between your legs, “you haven’t even seen my dick yet.”

You sit up, tits out and naked from the waist down, “well by all means, show me.”

“Greedy girl,” Eddie smirks, “did you bring me here just to get me naked? I’m appalled!”

You move to your knees, sitting upright a bit so your face is level with his. You kiss him softly, moving to his neck and sucking just right to pull those deep moans from him that make your knees shake.

Feather light touches skate along the expanse of his chest, working down down down until you’re undoing his belt, thumbing open the button on his jeans and yanking down his zipper.

When your hand slides between him and his boxer briefs, Eddie hisses, watching you pump him slow and tight. The feel of your smooth palm against his velvety shaft makes him almost cum right there and then, it’s been awhile since the last time.

But you’re not hesitating or questioning yourself and he isn’t either. It’s almost fluid like a rocking wave the way Eddie lays you down, a team effort to swiftly shove down his jeans so you can finally feel eachother where the desperation is needed most.

Legs hiked over his hips, he lines himself up with your gummy slicked entrance. It’s a deep and achy stretch for you, a vice grip for him. The lazy gasping moans you both emit are drawn out, yours practically breathless.

“Holy fuck,” you breath into his mouth as he peppers you with kisses. He drags his hips out at a measured pace, pushing in just as unhurriedly, enjoying the way your body adjusts, cuffing him like a glove.

Eddie breaks away from your lips to watch your bodies join together, moaning your name as he presses his forehead on yours collecting your mouth with his.

“Shit…This okay?” he asks earnestly, nipping at your ear.

You nod in gasping silence, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he speeds up. Your hands are skimming down his bareback, pressing him further into you with every thrust, begging him for more.

He snakes a hand between you, rubbing circles in your puffy clit as he thrusts harder, trying to get you there before he loses all control. “Want you to feel good sweetheart, fuck— keep making those pretty little noises, you’re squeezin’ the hell outta me.”

And he does. You cum hard around him, your walls fluttering and pulsing so fast you practically black out from the mixed pleasure of his fingers rubbing your clit and his cock stuffed in deep.

His name falls from your lips in tiny little whines and he bucks into you a hard and final time before he groans, holding onto your headboard for support as he’s bottoming out, stringing rope after rope of hot spend inside of you.

“Baby,” he whispers, “God—” he stops cold, realizing what he just did and what he didn’t do. “Oh shit, fuck fuck fuck! I didn’t pull out, I'm sorry! I’m so fucking sorry!

You laugh wickedly, your body shaking beneath him at his worried panicked face.

He’s a babbling, out-of-breath mess, “’s not funny! I just got caught up in the moment and you felt so fucking good and I’m still a little dru—”

“Eddie, it’s fine,” you say, holding his cheeks with both hands squishing them together so his lips pucker like a fish, “I’m on the pill.”

His face is still squished together when he speaks, “oh, well… okay.”

“You’re fine,” you coo, coaxing him down from the ledge of regret and self hatred, “I—” you lean up and kiss him square on the mouth, licking into it and sliding your tongue against his, “I liked it.”

His eyebrows disappear into his bangs and before he can open his mouth to speak you’re pulling him onto you kissing him deep and needy.

The two of you end the night that way, him holding you, your hands in his hair, kissing so much your lips are chapped— never getting enough. Legs entangled together like a weaved basket. You fall asleep before he does, your little huffed breathing making his skin damp as you curl further into his chest.

Wonder if Verizon is open tomorrow? He thinks when he remembers that his phone is definitely broke from it landing on the bathroom floor—but he’d never tell you that.

He also wouldn’t tell you how he was supposed to go back to Steve’s tonight because they were leaving to see another old friend in California for the weekend— or how they needed to be at the airport by 2 AM for a 4 AM flight. — or that Eddie was Steve’s ride because he lost his license in July.

Nope.

He wouldn’t tell you any of it. None of that seemed to matter when you were sleeping so cute on his chest like that.

When late morning comes you’re at it again, this time you’re riding him on the futon, slow like a twangy country song his hands rocking your hips. When you both finish you drag him to the showers, pumping some expensive shampoo into his hair and giggling when you tell him to be quiet so you won’t get caught.

Steve called Eddie’s phone all night, and all morning, sending duplicate texts of rage, wondering where the fuck he had gone.

Eddie silences the last call from Steve as you’re getting dressed, wearing a black pair of yoga pants and a zip up hoodie. He smiles when you offer to comb his hair, grabbing your wrist to pull you onto his lap kissing behind your ear.

His voice is low, soothingly sweet and minty from your toothpaste as he asks, “can I take you to breakfast?”

#Spotify #eddie x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x you smut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you fanfic #eddie fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you

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justdavina · 5 months ago

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Emily is a transgender woman that turns me on so much! I love her red hair! I love her leopard print top. I love black mini skirts and pretty face. Lots of movement going on darling's.

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arcadegh0st · 1 year ago

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Please, I love Girly Leopard so much. I found it for sale on a resale shop that had *just this* one Angelic Pretty dress. Nothing else. It’s missing the fur collar but for the price I paid, Im not upset and it can easily be replicated. 🐆💅🏽

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greengoblinswifey · 24 hours ago

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Guilty Pleasure—Rafe Cameron x Kook!Reader

summary— rafe’s obsession with you finally boils over after a night of teasing and intense sexual tension, that leads to you ending up in rafe’s bed and having both of you crave more.

warnings— obsessive!rafe, oral(f!receiving), tit job/titty fucking, tit worship, biting/marking, unprotected sex, praise kink.

a/n— i love women so much that photo turned me on…i need help.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

You sat in front of your mirror, adding the finishing touches to your look. The outfit you chose was a perfect mix of bold and carefree, just like you. The fitted black tank top clung to your figure, revealing a hint of your leopard-print bra underneath, adding an effortless edge. You paired it with denim shorts that showcased your legs, the fabric frayed just enough to make it clear you didn’t care too much but still made a statement.

After adjusting your curls and applying a final coat of lipgloss, you gave yourself a once over in the mirror. The way your brown skin glowed against the mix of textures and fabrics was stunning, and you knew you were ready to turn heads, whether you wanted to or not. You weren’t dressing for anyone but yourself, though you had a feeling someone would be watching closely tonight.

When you walked into Topper’s party, the air practically shifted. Conversations paused as your presence commanded the room, even Ruthie’s fake smile faltered for a moment. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Rafe Cameron, leaning against the bar with his drink in hand, his eyes locked on you like a predator who just found its prey.

You weaved through the crowd with practiced ease, offering nods and tight-lipped smiles to the other Kooks, ignoring the stares that followed you.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Ruthie’s voice rang out as she spotted you near the drinks table. Her tone carried the same false sweetness that always made you bristle. Topper stood beside her, grinning like he’d accomplished something just by getting you here. You suspected he’d been in cahoots with a certain someone which is why he invited you.

You rolled your eyes subtly. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you replied dryly, pouring yourself a drink.

It wasn’t long before you felt eyes on you, more intense than the usual glances. Turning your head slightly, your gaze landed on Rafe leaning against the staircase railing, his sharp features illuminated by the glow of string lights. He didn’t bother to look away when you caught him staring. If anything, his smirk deepened.

Rafe wasn’t subtle—he never was. Whether it was at the country club, the beach, or now here, his gaze followed you like you were the only thing worth seeing in all of Kildare. It annoyed you. No, it infuriated you. But you’d never give him the satisfaction of knowing.

“The fuck are you looking at?” you snapped, locking eyes with him.

He pushed off the railing and walked toward you, his steps deliberate. “You, obviously,” he said, his tone low and teasing, a challenge glinting in his blue eyes. He stopped too close, leaning in just slightly as though daring you to shove him away.

“Stop being weird, Rafe,” you muttered, turning back to your drink, trying to ignore the way his presence seemed to make the air shift.

“Can’t help it when you’re around,” he replied smoothly. His eyes lingered on your bra before drifting down to your shorts. “You wear that for me?”

Your head snapped up, lips parting in indignation. “You’re delusional,” you shot back, but you felt heat creep up your neck. He always knew how to get under your skin.

“That’s not a no,” he murmured, his voice dropping lower as he smirked.

Before you could respond, Ruthie’s shrill laughter interrupted the moment, breaking whatever tension had begun to build. You took the opportunity to walk away, leaving Rafe standing there. You couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you, tracking your every step like a predator with its prey.

Music thumped from the speakers, and the crowd ebbed and flowed around you as you navigated your way through Topper’s obnoxiously large beach house after dancing for a bit. You barely had time to grab a drink before you felt his presence again—Rafe, leaning casually against the wall like he owned the place.

“Thank you for gracing me with your presence,” he drawled, his eyes shamelessly dragging down your figure.

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip of your drink as you turned away. “Don’t start, Rafe.”

“What?” he asked, smirking as he pushed off the wall and stepped closer. “I’m just saying. You look good, that’s all. Better than good, actually.”

“Wow, thanks for the groundbreaking observation,” you shot back, your tone dripping with sarcasm. “Can I go now?”

But Rafe wasn’t deterred. He trailed after you like a persistent shadow, his charm cranked up to full force. “You know,” he said, leaning down slightly so his face was level with yours, “you’re the only girl in Figure 8 who doesn’t throw herself at me. That’s different. I like different.”

You stopped walking, turning to face him fully. “Maybe that’s because I don’t have time for spoiled rich boys with control issues,” you said sweetly, though your words carried a sharp tone.

Rafe’s grin widened, unbothered by your jab. His eyes flickered down to your chest, where your tank top dipped just enough to reveal the leopard-print bra and your tits underneath. “You really don’t, huh?” he murmured, his gaze lingering far too long.

“Rafe,” you warned, crossing your arms over your chest. “My face is up here.”

“Oh, I know,” he said smoothly, his blue eyes finally meeting yours again. “But can you blame me?”

You laughed, though it wasn’t out of amusement. “You’re disgusting.”

“And you’re gorgeous,” he countered, leaning in just enough for his voice to drop to a low tone. “So what do you say? Let me take you somewhere quieter. Just to talk.”

You gave him a skeptical look, the corners of your mouth twitching as you fought back a smile. “Talk? That’s rich coming from you.”

“Cross my heart,” he said, placing a hand over his chest in mock sincerity. “No funny business. Unless you want there to be.”

You sighed, glancing around the crowded room. He wasn’t going to let up, and you were tired of his relentless staring. “Fine,” you relented, setting your drink down on the nearest table. “But only to shut you up.”

Rafe’s smirk deepened, and without wasting a second, he led you out of the house and toward his truck parked just outside. The air between you was thick with unspoken words as he opened the door for you, his hand brushing yours as you climbed in.

By the time you reached his place, you were questioning why you’d agreed to come. But the way Rafe looked at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world, left you curious enough to stay.

As you both walked into the house, Rafe led you through the dimly lit living room and into the kitchen, but your patience was already wearing thin. You turned to him, crossing your arms. “So, what was it you wanted to talk about, Cameron?”

He leaned against the counter, his signature smirk tugging at his lips. “We could talk down here, but,” He let his voice trail off, the implication hanging in the air before he added, “It’s more comfortable upstairs. In my room.”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “Boy, do not play with me.”

“I’m not,” he said, “I mean, I’m just saying, the bed’s a lot comfier than these barstools.”

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes but followed him up the stairs anyway, telling yourself it was just easier to humor him than to argue. His hand brushed against your lower back, lingering as it slowly slid lower. You shot him a warning look over your shoulder, but he just raised a brow, clearly unbothered.

Once in his room, he shut the door with a quiet click and locked it, making your stomach twist in a mix of irritation and anticipation. You sat on the edge of his bed, taking in the space—simple, yet distinctly his. Your gaze landed back on him, standing there with that freshly buzzed head, his jawline sharp, and a needy glint in his blue eyes. He wasn’t even subtle about it, his eyes dropped to your chest almost immediately, the intensity of his stare making heat rise to your cheeks.

“What?” you snapped, though your tone lacked any real bite.

“You know exactly what,” he said, stepping closer, his smirk turning downright sinful. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, the room seemed to still. The sexual tension between you was thick, suffocating even, until it snapped entirely.

One second, his eyes were on yours, the next, his lips crashed into yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the fact that this had been a long time coming—or maybe both, but you didn’t pull away. Instead, you kissed him back with just as much ferocity, your hands tangling in the fabric of his shirt as he pressed you down onto the bed.

Rafe hovered over you, his lips devouring yours as his hands roamed freely, sliding up your waist and cupping your tits. A low moan rumbled in your throat when his hands squeezed, and he pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, “Pretty fucking moans.”

“Shut up, before I change my mind,” you muttered breathlessly, though your voice betrayed how affected you were.

His lips curved into a grin as he nipped at your jawline. “You won’t,” he said confidently, trailing kisses down your neck and chest. Each touch sent sparks coursing through your body, and by the time he reached your waist, your resolve was hanging by a thread.

He hooked his fingers into your belt, tugging you forward slightly as he unbuckled it and slid it free. “Thought you just wanted to talk,” he teased, his voice low and teasing as he worked your shorts down your legs. His eyes burned into you, taking in every inch of your shamelessly wet pussy.

“Shut up,” you said again, but there was no venom behind it. If anything, your voice was laced with a shaky sort of anticipation.

His mouth found your pussy with a ferocity that made you gasp, your body reacting almost instinctively. He was smug, of course—his low chuckle vibrating against you as you arched off the bed, unable to suppress the moans spilling from your lips. His hands gripped your hips firmly, holding you in place even as your legs wrapped around his head.

“Be a good girl,” he murmured against your pussy, his voice dark and commanding. “Cum for me.”

You couldn’t believe it—the audacity of Rafe Cameron, and yet, your body responded before your mind could catch up. Your fingers clutched at the sheets, your head tipping back as you did exactly what he told you to. The room was filled with muffled moans and the sound of his name falling from your lips as you came on his tongue, the feeling leaving you breathless.

Rafe leaned back up, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, his hands roaming your sides. You couldn’t help but grind against him, a desperate rhythm that betrayed how much you wanted him, even if you tried to hold back. He pulled away with a teasing smirk, his voice low and gravelly, “Aw, baby, I thought you just agreed to talk.”

You rolled your eyes, your annoyance barely hiding the heat in your cheeks. “Rafe, just shut up,” you muttered, pulling him back down for another kiss. His chuckle rumbled against your lips, but he didn’t resist, matching your passion.

As your hips pressed against his, you felt the solid evidence of his desire, his hard cock, and it only spurred you on. He finally broke away, his lips brushing against your jaw as he whispered, “You’re driving me crazy.” Sitting up, he tugged his shirt over his head, his toned chest and abs on full display. Then, with deliberate slowness, he removed his pants and boxers, revealing himself fully.

Your breath hitched slightly at the sight, and his smug grin returned. “See how hard I am for you?” he murmured, stroking himself lazily as his gaze traveled over your body. His confidence was annoying, but you couldn’t deny how captivating he looked. He had the package to match too.

Climbing back onto the bed, he hovered over you, his knees on either side of you. “Take off that little top and that sexy bra,” he instructed, his voice dropping an octave. “You’ve been teasing me all night in that hot outfit.”

You hesitated for a moment, savoring the way his eyes pleaded with yours despite his usual cocky demeanor. Then, you slowly lifted your top over your head and unclasped your bra, letting it fall to the side. Rafe let out a sharp breath, his eyes widening as he took you in.

“Goddamn,” he muttered, leaning back slightly to admire you. “The famous tits everyone talks about—but I’m the only one lucky enough to see them like this.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes again. “It’s gonna be your first and last time,” you shot back, though your voice lacked any real bite.

He chuckled, leaning down to kiss the curve of your neck. “We’ll see about that,” he teased before whispering against your skin, “Now, hold those tits together for me, baby.”

You hesitated briefly, your hands moving to frame your chest, and he let out a deep, appreciative sigh. “God, you’re so perfect,” he murmured, his gaze fixed intently as he shifted closer.

He leaned down, positioning himself between your tits, his breath hitching as his movements became slow and deliberate. “You have no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this,” he admitted, his voice husky and raw.

His eyes flickered to yours, and you saw something unguarded there, something almost vulnerable beneath his confident smirk. “You’re everything I’ve ever wanted, and seeing you like this, it’s unreal.”

You couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh, your teasing side showing despite the heat in the room. “You’ve got one chance, Cameron,” you said softly.

He let out a low chuckle, leaning down to kiss the curve of your neck, his lips warm and lingering. “One chance is all I need,” he whispered against your skin, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

He started moving his cock between your tits, going back and forth as he let out breathy whimpers. You couldn’t deny how hot he sounded and how fucking sext it was to have him titty fuck you.

“Fucking hell, your tits are perfect,” he moaned, bucking his hips between them.

“I know, that’s why they’re always on display,” you laughed.

You darted your tongue out, each time he thrusted forward, you got a taste of his leaking tip, the pre cum smearing all over you. He lulled his head back, gasping as the sensation of your tongue and between your tits became almost overwhelming.

You spat on the tip and he took the opportunity to smear it all over you, getting your chest a tad bit sloppy.

“You should see how hot you look right now, all f’me,” he smirked.

As he thrusted, you held your tits together even tighter, gliding it up and down his thick cock. The action coupled with your tongue licking his tip had his head spinning, and he knew his ego was going to be bruised for coming quick. Then again, it was with you, anyone would cum quick too.

“S-shit baby, that’s so fucking hot, holy fuck, m’ gonna cum,” he whimpered, frantically, “I— I can’t fucking hold it.”

You began gliding against him faster, feeling how he throbbed and twitched in anticipation. “Cum all over my tits, I know you want to,” you teased, a seductive edge in your voice.

“Ahh— holy shit, oh God,” Rafe moaned, looking down at you as his cum spurted from his cock. You opened your mouth, catching some of his load as the rest coated your tits leaving them a sloppy mess.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” he panted, staring intently as you swallowed his cum and your tongue darted out to lick what was on your chest, “that was even better than any head I’ve ever gotten.”

“It’s me, not a surprise,” you said in a cocky tone.

By now he was aching for you, you hoped he didn’t notice how badly you were aching for him too. You couldn’t believe in a million years you’d be desperate for Rafe Cameron to shove his dick inside you.

“I’m still so fucking hard baby, gotta let me fuck you,” he urged.

“Shut up Rafe, I don’t gotta let you do anything,” you murmured, rolling your eyes, “now sit on the fucking bed.”

If you were going to let Rafe fuck you, it would be on your terms. You would be the one fucking him. Just this one time. Well just enough to have him craving more when you’re finished.

He eagerly did as instructed, positioning himself against the headboard, his cock leaking and standing at attention. With a dick that big no wonder he acted the way he did. Straddling him, you sucked on his neck leaving dark red marks so he’d have a few days to reflect on what happened between you.

“Please sit, baby, I need that pussy,” he whined.

“Beg me,” you retorted.

He looked up at you, eyes filled with need and disbelief, “You know me sweetheart, I don’t fucking beg.”

You let out an unamused laugh and sat on his thigh instead of his cock, your arousal smearing him. “Well, I guess you won’t get to be inside me, I knew you weren’t worth my time.”

“W-wait, no, please baby. Please let me fuck you, I’ve never needed anyone this bad. I need to be inside you, I’m fucking obsessed with you,” he whined, frantically.

Having Rafe Cameron of all people plead to be inside you was more than what you bargained for tonight and you were enjoying every minute of it.

Slowly, you sank down onto him, the sensation beyond anything you’d ever felt. His cock hit all the right places inside you and filled you to the brim. Though you tried to hold back, you couldn’t help the soft moans that left your lips.

“Fuck,” you moaned, shakily.

The faint glow from the bedside lamp casted warm shadows across Rafe's features as you slammed yourself up and down his cock. His hands found their way to your waist, gripping firmly as you rode him with purpose.

“Yeah? Feels good doesn’t it,” Rafe said, his tone cocky.

You responded with a bite to his shoulder, sinking your teeth in as you began bouncing faster. His head tipped back, giving you more access as you left your teeth mark on his neck.

“Fuck baby, that feels so good,” he moaned. He didn’t strike you as the type to enjoy being marked but you were into it.

“God, I’ve always loved watching this ass,” he murmured, his hands sliding over it. “Now I finally get to feel it bouncing on dick.”

Rolling your eyes at his words, you leaned forward, capturing his lips in a deep kiss to silence him. The intensity of the moment enveloped you both. You felt the stretch and fullness, every inch of him, while the rhythm of your movements sent waves of heat through your body.

Rafe’s blue eyes locked on yours, his gaze glassy and overwhelmed. “You wanna cum for me baby? Cum all over this cock,” he whispered, his voice ragged.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as your breaths quickened, your orgasm building until it erupted, leaving you trembling in his arms. He moaned low in his throat, gripping your hips as he followed your lead, his movements growing more erratic.

“Can I— Can I cum inside you?” he asked, breathlessly. You narrowed your eyes, your lips curling into a smirk. “In your dreams,” you teased, sliding off him before he came.

Rafe didn’t miss a beat. He positioned himself over you as you lay back, watching him with a mix of curiosity and satisfaction. His breaths were shallow, his body taut, and he released with a guttural moan, his cum spreading across your tits as he lost himself.

Still catching his breath, Rafe collapsed beside you, running a hand through his buzzed hair. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” he admitted.

“Glad to help,” you replied, slipping off the bed to grab your clothes. But before you could get far, his hand gently tugged at yours. “No, stay,” he said, his blue eyes looking up at you with a vulnerability that caught you off guard.

For a moment, you hesitated. But the way he looked at you—soft, almost pleading—made you stop. Just this once, you told yourself. Climbing back into the bed, you let Rafe pull you into his arms. His fingers lightly grazed your skin, his hand resting on your waist before sliding up to rest on your tits.

“Didn’t think you were the cuddling type,” you teased, your voice light.

He smirked, burying his face into your neck. “I’m not.”

The warmth of his body against yours felt unexpectedly comforting, and as his breathing evened out, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was a moment you’d remember longer than you intended and if it wasn’t the last time.

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7s3ven · 24 days ago

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MAFIA AU! TASK FORCE 141 x MOB BOSS GF! READER

( head cannons / might turn into a series )

Feel free to to request more scenarios with this au LOL

Notes: poly, reader is described as on the shorter side, age gap, daddy issues (reader has a bad father), inappropriate jokes/themes mentioned

YSL, red bottom shoes, sugary cocktails, leopard print, faux fur, y2k, mcbling, lana del rey, cigarettes, mob boss wife…

- When people join the mafia, they expect tough muscled men, maybe a few scarred women carelessly waving around guns. What they don’t expect is you

- You’re an interesting sight, perched on Price’s lap like a little trophy, freshly manicured nails tapping away at your phone screen as you play a game

- You don’t care about whatever meeting you’re in, you aren’t even listening to Price’s rather gory plans. You’re too busy deciding what to have for lunch

- Nobody can look away from your pretty pout as you discover your favourite drink is temporarily out of stock

- Price was the one who found you first. Your father was indebted to the mafia and what better way to force him to pay than taking his precious daughter? Price found it strange how you were so willing to leave your father but it made sense when you told him the truth

- Your father wasn’t a good man. He had blood on his hands and he never cared much about you or your mother. You were thankful to find a way out, even if it meant going with a strange (but equally handsome) man

- You belonged to Price first but his property was Simon, Kyle, and Jonny’s as well

- “Jonny, is this skirt too short?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.

Jonny glanced up from his phone, shrugging. “Nah. It’s all good, bonnie. I can fight. ‘Sides, shorter skirts makes it easier to bend ya over.”

- Simon loves sharing his cigarettes with you, especially when you kiss him and transfer the smoke into his mouth. The best part is seeing your lipstick stain the end of his cigarette

- Price buys you lots of clothes and accessories. You’re never not draped in the most expensive jewellery he can find. Gaz is the one buying you heels. For some reason, he has a knack for choosing the best shoes

- Seeing you waltz around in your short skirts, lace tops, and clicking high heels is enough of a reward for the four men

- The rookies love the sight of you but you’re forbidden fruit. You belonged to their bosses who did not like to share

- When there’s talk of a rat among the mafia, your four lovers do not take it kindly. They need someone to infiltrate whatever plot is brewing up. Luckily, they have you. Nobody in their right mind would pass a chance on being able to get a taste of your strawberry-flavored lipgloss

- “Oh my gosh, it’s giving office siren.” You say, excitedly tugging on the tight, short-sleeved blouse that Ghost is shaking his head at.

“It’s too short.” He mutters, “Ain’t there a ‘nother size?”

“It was the only one. Sorry, baby.” You sheepishly smiled at your lover’s displeasure. “Anyway, how do I look?”

Clad in that damn white blouse, a short pencil skirt, and thinly rimmed glasses, you were a vision.

“You look like you’re ’bout to get some action when ya get back.” Kyle says, nodding over at Soap who’s staring at you shamelessly.

“How ‘bout this, lovie?” Price steps forward, “If you do a good job, we’ll give you a little reward. Sound good, yeah?”

( please note that for the cod tag list, you will be tagged in all the cod fics i post, not just this one lol )

COD TAG LIST (COMMENT TO BE ADDED/REMOVED): @galactict3a

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realprissygirl · 5 days ago

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The 2010s Black Barbie Look

a deep dive on one of my fav sub styles ever. this aesthetic takes from the 2010s baddie, swag movement, and a lingering hyperfemininity from the 2000s that soon was obliterated by most brands a few years later. i’ve always been into this look as i was the intended audience. a teenage black girl in high school when this look took off.

the vibe ❤︎︎

“everyone was a barb. victoria’s secret was the go to place to shop on fridays after school. you were the cool girl if you had more than four beauty rush glosses. the scent of love spell filled your bedroom.”

biggest influencers

aaliyah jay

ella bandz

asian doll

cuban doll

nicki minaj

blac chyna

india love

kash doll

molly brazy

dream doll

shannade and shannon clermont

rico nasty

pattyeffinmayo

bali baby

color palette ❤︎︎

+ neon yellow/green, pinky purple

pink of course! very girly and femme. but a much wider range of shades vs today. there was a huge boom in neons too. (this tracks back to the return of the 80s/90s fashion elements) (i remember having this lime green PINK quarter zip that i loved so so much). also gray was a super popular accent color for fashion and interior. zebra print decor was a staple (seen in aaliyahjay’s and ellabandz’ bedrooms) because vs pink was so big, the white on hot pink polka dot pattern was seen everywhere from clothing to needing to girls decorating their rooms with VS PINK bags.

the staples ❤︎︎

fashion

aurora borealis swarovski crystal details

PINK

crop tops

fuzzy tops

heather gray

neon leopard print

white on pink polka dots

sequins

bamboo earrings

pink mcm bags

MICHAEL KORS EVERYTHING

ugg and bearpaw fur boots

juicy couture backpacks

pink timberland boots

beauty

mac cosmetics

anastasia beverly hills eyeshadow

eye glitter

cut creases

glued on rhinestones

colourpop ultra matte lippies

pale pink lippies

anastasia beverly hills dip brow

glitter gloss

mega volume bundles

too faced chocolate bar eyeshadow palette collection

deep side part sew ins

artist couture loose highlight

blinding highlighter

gigantic messy buns

sleek ponytails with swoop details

nyx soft matte lip cream

victoria’s secret beauty rush lip gloss

blonde blow outs

“coffin” nails

pink nails

blonde hair and dark roots

tartelette palette

poppin hoez lip gloss

essentials

hello kitty accessories like phone cases

3d phone cases

phone cases with sassy phrases

luxe addiction cases

fur keychains

pink beats

kendra’s boutique hair barb tools

iphone glitter skins

rose gold iphone

perfume bottle phone cases

fragrance

nicki minaj fragrances

victoria’s secret pink mists

paris hilton fragrances

ariana grande fragrances

versace bright crystal

core elements ❤︎︎

2010s black baddie aesthetic but hyper pink and girly, like the 24 year old baddie’s teenage sister

the omg girlz

harajuku barbie culture

bad girls club

the rise of the rapper gf archetype

nicki minaj’s transition from harajuku barbie to onika

the influx of “doll” female rappers

stripper influencers

#luvs it #certified princess! ❤︎ ྀི #❤︎ ྀི˖𓍢ִ໋

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bunnys-kisses · 2 months ago

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kink-o-ween - day seven

lando norris - lingerie

cw: smut/pwp, body worship, dirty talk, missionary, established relationship

kink-o-ween: formula one edition - call of duty edition

you never thought that orange was your colour. in fairness maybe a softer orange or a burnt orange would suit your body better. but mclaren knew very little about nice colours, the glaring orange they use was great on the track. but terrible on your body.

after his most recent win, you wanted to impress your boyfriend of the last several months. he worked so hard to get where he was, so close to the championship that he could almost taste the champagne of victory! and it was your job to make sure that morale was high for him, so he could see his victory to the end.

and sometimes that meant wearing the garish mclaren orange.

you wore the lingerie all day on the track. you were thankful that the clothes you wore over top were made of a thick enough material to hide any showing of what was underneath. no one needed to see your orange panties. but, that did mean you were fanning yourself more often due to the heat.

damn if you do, damn if you don't.

however, you were the most happy about the fact that despite the colour. the set was rather comfortable. the bra had enough support that it didn't dig into your sides and the panties were made of a lacy material that didn't scratch at weird places. and most of all you were happy to see lando score his victory.

he was all smiles as you two headed back to the hotel room for the night. you were practically guiding him to your room. he was attached to you like barnacle. his arms wrapped around you, you were wearing his mclaren hat.

he was even getting a good feel of you which made you squirm a little as you tried to get the key into the door. once it was opened you managed to get enough distance from him to get your shoes off. he followed suit, he knew you wouldn't let him get his dirty runners into your shared bed. he was running off the high of the weekend. he wanted to dig his hands into his beautiful girlfriend and give her all the loving he could.

he was eager to get his black t-shirt off and strip down to nothing. but he got curious when you got closer to the bedroom and hadn't taken a single thing off (other than your shoes). and once you got into the bedroom, you sat on the bed while lando stood there partially undressed.

"is everything okay?" he asked.

you nodded, "oh yeah, of course! i just had a surprise for you. and i didn't want to ruin it in the living room." you giggled, "come sit and i'll show you."

lando, eager to please, sat down and got his belt out of the loops of his jeans. he watched you get up before you reached for the hem of your t-shirt. you paused for a moment and lando leaned forward.

"god, this is going to be embaressing. you better not think it's tacky."

lando chuckled, "babe, you could wear leopard print and tiger print at the same time and i wouldn't think it was tacky. c'mon, show me." his voice gave you enough confidence to fully get your t-shirt off. revealing the bright orange bra underneath. lando's eyes went wide and he said, "oh, wow!"

you dropped the shirt and crossed your arms, "ugh, this is stupid."

"no, no! i love it. is that my number right there." he leaned a little forward and pulled your arms away from your chest. as an added detail you put on it you sewed lando's number over the left cup of the bra. he beamed at you, "oh, this is beautiful." then took you by the arms and pulled you onto the bed.

he was soon over top of you, his hands on you as he kissed you passionately. he continued to give you praise for your undergarments. you were such a thoughtful girlfriend. you were perfect for him and he loved you so much. he soon got out of his clothes rather quickly, but admired the lingerie on you for a little while longer.

he touched your breasts, he grabbed hold and felt the fabric and you soft skin under his palms. his cock was hard as he admired your beauty. and you couldn't help but feel hot in the cheeks as you laid there under him.

"you look good in this colour."

"i don't know if you'd be saying that if you weren't driving for mclaren." you replied then lando leaned in a kissed you on the lips. you felt him start to undo your bra and you did your best to get the panties off. he wished that you couldn't left them on the entire time you had sex. but, the only think better than you in mclaren orange was you naked.

"as long as you had my number on you, i'd be happy. you could be in a potato sack with the number four, and i'd still make love to you." he chuckled as he got the bra off. then slowly got the panties off.

once you were naked, lando started to undress himself, your eyes lingered on his toned body and you leaned in to kiss him over the heart which made him shudder a little bit. you giggled against his heated skin.

"maybe next time i should make you wear something with my name on it." then kissed his collarbone.

he worked at his jeans and laughed a little, "i'll happily do that." before he kicked off his pants and eventually his boxers. now both naked you two were together in the bed.

you moaned into the kiss he placed on your lips and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. you rubbed yourself up against him. lando's hands roamed your body.

when he pulled away from the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours. he smiled at you, "you're beautiful. so beautiful. i can't believe you were wearing that all day today. i wished you showed me, i would've happily take it off at the track."

"oh my god, you perv." you giggled as you raked your fingers through his dark hair, "you'd happily have me over your car if given the chance."

he pulled away and beamed at you, "will you." and was met with a slap on the chest. he laughed, "i'm joking!" before he took you by the hips and brought you closer to him. he eyed your body for a moment and licked his lips, "plus, i'd hate for anyone else to see all this beautiful. call me selfish, but i want this all to myself." his cock twitched at the sight of you.

"good then, because you have it. every last inch, from top to bottom." and you watched lando smile before he leaned in once more for a heated kiss. you held onto his shoulders while he got a better hold of your hips.

when he pulled away, he got himself properly in between your legs. then slowly inched his cock into your pussy. you held onto the covers under you as he got himself into you. you made a soft moaning noise and he felt excitement run through him.

you were perfect, so perfect that you got lingerie for him. based off of his number and team colours. you looked amazing in it and he wished you'd wear it more. to know that you were wearing his colours. he leaned in for another kiss as he started to move against you. he pressed his chest up against yours. his lips found yours and held onto your soft hips.

"i love you." he said when he broke the kiss for a moment. he groaned a little before he went in for another kiss. he deepened it and he felt his heart rate increase.

you moaned against his lips, you said you loved him too in your mind as you soon held onto his shoulders. you felt lando move against you, and his hungry gaze on you as the two of you fucked on the bed.

you two made a good pair, most people would say that. especially when you greeted lando when he won and when he'd hold you so tightly after a race. you were his good luck charm and always pushed himself past his limits on the track when he knew you were watching. he didn't believe that was a 'number one fan' of his, but if there was, you'd have that title.

"i love you." he said again as he moved faster against you. he watched your breasts move with each of his movements. your hands were back on the covers and he could see you panting.

there was a bit of sweat on your bodies as the two of you moved together. you quickly found lando's pace and met it. which only made the two of you hotter. the added pleasure seeped into your brains as the bed creaked under you.

"you are the most beautiful woman in the world. when we're done i'm going to kiss every part of you. you need to know how beautiful you are. how you look under me. you drive me crazy every day, i can't do a day without seeing you or a photo of you. but no photo does it justice." he groaned as he pulled back and re positioned himself on his knees to get the perfect angle to fuck you.

"you're making me blush." you giggled as you tried to hide your face for a moment, but lando soon pressed your hands onto the bed and continued to thrust into you.

"don't hide from me. you're too beautiful to hide yourself. i want to see every inch of you." he panted a little heavier as he really moved against you. his thrusts were hard and made you see stars.

"lando!" you whined.

he looked at you as he really worked himself against you. his tanned and toned body really moved well against you. he could feel his brain full of lust as he started to lose his pace, pleasure fully taking over.

you held onto his hands tightly as you really felt the thrill of pleasure in your body. you held on tightly as you came around his cock, the pleasure washed over you like a wave and it left you panting like an animal. you could feel the sweat at your temples as it all came crashing down on you.

"lando."

"i got you, beautiful." he chuckled softly as he kissed the apple of your cheek before he continued to rut against you. the kisses continued once more and with a few more heavy thrusts, your boyfriend finished inside of you.

you whined against him and felt a shudder of want through his body. he continued to rut against you a few more times before he eventually slowed down to a stop.

he was panting heavily and so were you. he pulled out and laid next to you on the bed. he wrapped you up in his arms and kissed you on the mouth. he melted a little bit into a kiss as he felt the after waves of pleasure.

"can you put the lingerie back on? i want to see it on you again, maybe take some photos." he beamed at you lazily. you pinched his cheeks and kissed him once more.

you'd do it for him, after all you paid good morning for it! <3

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