otsmancusumano713

[graves4girls]

Headcanons for Johnny eating reader out?? (I honestly didn't know how to say that)

anyways I THINK YOU KNOW WHAT IM TALKING ABOUT *ahem* your post about Johnnys nose🥰

☆ 18+ cunnilingus headcanons | johnny cage

✮ wc. 1.2k ⚠︎ warning(s): cunnilingus, fellatio, fem!reader woohoo first nsfw johnny fic (kinda) !! fr tho i need this man so bad it's insane it’s currently 4 am i’m so normal about him

Overall, one of his favorite activities. And he doesn't take the task lightly. 

He likes to get you worked up and soaked before he gives you what you want, kissing down your stomach and roaming his hands all over your inner thighs. He'll press kisses to the inside of your left thigh, trailing up until he reaches your needy cunt, completely disregarding your dripping hole and continuing the kisses down your right thigh, a wicked grin pulling at his lips when you whine at the teasing touches.

After he feels he's riled you up enough, he'll finally bring his mouth to your wet folds, dragging the flat of his tongue up along your labia and circling the tip of his tongue around your clit. He's eager and almost greedy in the way he laps at you, suckling at the sensitive bud.

He'll be happy with whatever position you're in, but he greatly prefers when you sit on his face. If you happen to hover, he'll clamp his hands over your hips and yank you down. "Don't get shy on me now, sweetheart. I can take it."

He likes being able to trap you against his mouth with his strong arms wrapped tight around your thighs, the way you squirm and jerk above him when you're overstimulated always fuels his ego.

And when your mind goes foggy and all you're focused on is coming, you'll start rolling your hips, and the way you grind down against his nose makes him harder than stone. You whine and huff above him, fingers tugging at his hair as you ride his pretty mouth, and he can't get enough of your desperation. 

He laps at every inch of you even after you've come, soaking the lower half of his face as he makes sure to clean you up. You jerk away from his tongue, sensitive and utterly exhausted after he's already coaxed a handful of orgasms from you, and eventually he lets up and frees you from his hold, grinning like an idiot when his eyes meet yours.

If you're splayed out on your back on the mattress, he'll shove a pillow under your hips, reveling at the sight of you spread out like a buffet for him for a moment before he digs in, big hands pinning your legs to the mattress to keep you from shying away from him. 

He feasts like a man starved, big brown eyes staring up at you as if he were looking for your approval with every quick flick of his tongue, as if your cries and whimpers weren't enough proof he was working you perfectly.

He'll chance letting one of your legs free as he brings his hand over to aid his mouth, stuffing two long fingers inside you as he watches you wriggle, and he can't help the small grunts that leave his lips when your hand tangles into his hair and tugs.

He's shameless. He'll grind his cock into the mattress, searching for any sort of stimulation as he fucks you on his fingers, your pleasure alone driving him insane. Your neediness from just his mouth and fingers gets him off more than anything, to know he's absolutely ruined you for anyone else makes him feel all powerful, not that anyone else would ever get a chance to have you. No, he's the only one. Only him.

He's come more times than he'd like to admit just from eating you out like this, humping the bed like a goddamn dog as he helps you ride out your umpteenth orgasm.

If you're 69-ing, his big hands are flat over your ass, spreading you open as he drives his tongue into you.

He's a bit more of a mess in this position, your hot mouth wrapped around his leaking cock, the tip of your nose nuzzling his balls whenever you manage to sink down on him completely. He tries to keep his composure, flicking the tip of his tongue across your clit hungrily.

He's only a man though, and so this isn't your all time favorite position when his tongue ultimately reels back as he lets his head fall back into the mattress, a moan ripping through his vocal chords when you swirl your tongue around his sensitive head. 

You'll nudge your hips back to give him the hint, and he'll mutter a half-hearted apology as he finds his footing, tongue delving back into your warm walls as you pull off him to let out a breathy moan, rocking back against his mouth.

His nails dig into the fat of your hips when he comes, and he muffles a long moan into your cunt as you clean him up with your tongue.

Don't be too quick to patronize him though, because as soon as he recollects himself he's tugging you back and forcing your hips down against his mouth, pulling a whine from your throat as he mouths at you with a newfound fervor. 

He coerces your orgasm with a few more heedy suckles and laps to your clit, keeping his mouth on you as you tremble above him, a flushed, whimpering mess as you rock back against him.

Once in a blue moon, he'll be far too restless to even get you to the bed before he's tugging your bottoms off, your panties following as your back hits the wall, and it's always the hottest thing ever to watch him slowly drop to his knees in front of you, eyes glazed over and big as he stares up at you from his seat on the floor.

He'll hook a leg over his shoulder to get a better angle of your dripping cunt, nestling his face between your legs as you lean against the wall for support, combing a hand through his hair as you watch him. 

His eyes will fall closed after a minute or two, far too gone in the way you push his head closer and the soft whines that fill the room, hands preoccupied undoing the buckle of his belt. He stuffs a hand down the front of his slacks and palms at his cock needily, your intoxicating perfume mixed with your natural smell addicting as he presses his nose into your soft skin.

He's a bit careless and impatient, drilling a couple fingers into your wet, warm walls as he greedily sucks at your clit, swallowing every moan and whimper you manage to croak out.

It's almost too much, and your leg threatens to give out as he laps at you. He wraps an arm around your thigh to keep you upright, abandoning his throbbing cock to make sure you don't collapse. What a gentleman.

You come not too long after, his enthusiasm driving you just as much as his tongue did. God, was it hot how excited he got to just taste you, to have you weak from his skilled tongue and long fingers tweaking every nerve perfectly.

His chest is always puffed a bit with pride as he cleans you up and tends to you, and he seems to find your embarrassment funny when you realize what a mess you've made when you come back to the room, bed disheveled and the air tainted with the smell of sex, pressing kisses to your flushed face as you try to hide in your hands. "You were just screaming my name twenty minutes ago. Don't act all embarrassed now, hun."

[forever-rogue]

Daddy Eddie melts my heart 🫠 I have such a cute idea! As we know Eddie loves his guitar like hell and maybe Ollie accidentally breaks it? When the little girl realizes what she's done she starts to cry and panic, because she knows how important it is to her daddy, but Eddie calms her down, hugs her, gives her lots of kisses on those chubby baby cheeks and assures his daughter that he loves nothing more than his little princess 🥹🥹🥹

AN | Dad!Eddie makes me so soft🥺🥰

Warnings | None

Pairing | Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Ollie?” it had been silent for too long - at least too long when there was a little Munson underfoot. You wiped your hands on the tea towel, cooing softly at the baby strapped to your chest. Jamie grinned at you, babbling happily as though he could understand what you were saying. When you heard no answer to your call you let out a small sigh, “let’s go and find sister, bub. I’m sure she’s up to something.”

You made sure the oven was off as you took the last tray of cookies out of the oven. Making your upstairs, you tried to listen for any signs of your daughter. Eventually you made it into the spare room which served as both a playroom for the kids and your husband, and found Ollie standing there with a guilty little look on her face.

“Hi Mommy,” her sheepish smile displayed her gap-tooth grin as you sighed softly at her, “is everything okay?”

“That depends,” you stated softly, her big brown eyes widened in surprise, “what are you up to, kiddo?”

“Nothing,” her reply came way too quickly for it to be true. You cocked your head to the side as Jamie squealed in delight. Her eyes softened as she looked at her little brother; the two of them already adored each other so much, “‘m just playing in here.”

“You were so quiet,” you raised your eyebrow at her, “were you playing with Daddy’s guitar?”

“No…” it was a bold faced lie and you both knew it. She took after Eddie in so many ways, including the fact that they were both terrible liars, “maybe I touched it a little bit…”

"A little bit huh?" you ran a hand affectionately through her dark curls, as she grinned at you, "I'm sure Daddy won't mind, but maybe for right now we can leave it alone. He can play with you later."

"Okay," she nodded solemnly as she reached for your hand, "can I have a snack?"

"Sure babe," you promised her, "let's have a snack then maybe we'll go to the park for a little bit."

"Yay!" she practically bounded down the stairs exactly, "I can play with Jamie!"

"We'll see honey," you patted the grinning baby's head, "he's still really small, babe. We have to be careful."

"I'm careful!" she insisted, immediately followed by a small oof as she almost tried in excitement. You couldn't help but laugh in amusement at her.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

After dinner, you and Eddie decided to watch a movie and cuddle on the couch after you’d put the baby down for some sleep. Ollie still had plenty of energy - which you truly envied - and was running around and playing. She wasn’t in the mood to be still and watch a movie so she was off in the playroom. Meanwhile you had been watching the movie but you were slowly falling asleep, cuddled up into his side. His arm was around you as he traced aimless shapes into your skin. Yeah, this was definitely your favorite spot in the world. 

“You’re snoring,” you heard his teasing lilt cut through the fog that was slowly falling over you. A huff escaped your lips as you turned to him with a little mock glare. He laughed as he pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.

“I am not,” you sat up so you could face him, a pretty little pout on your lips that he just wanted to kiss away, “I wasn’t even sleeping! Just resting my eyes.”

“Whatever you say, angel,” he brushed a few rogue looks of hair out of your face, before resting his hand on your face, thumb stroking over your cheek, “I think if anyone deserves to rest, it’s you. Even if you’re missing out on a quality movie.”

“A quality movie,” you snorted in amusement, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and giving it a gentle squeeze, “this is some random b rated comedy, my love. I highly doubt you even remember the name.”

“I do!” he insisted as  you raised an eyebrow and motioned for him to go on, “it’s…something.”

“That’s what I thought,” you laughed and he took the momentary advantage to tickle your sides. Your eyes widened in surprise as you squealed, meekly trying to miss him off of you, “you’re cheating! This is cruel!”

“Well it’s fun for me,” he grinned, leaning over the top of you on the couch. He took your hands and pinned them to the side as he leaned down to kiss you, “is this really so bad?”

“I’m pretty sure this is how our son happened,” you laughed, “speaking of which, if you wake him, I might have to-”

Almost as if on cue, a few soft cries came over the baby monitor that was on the side table next to the couch. The two of you exchanged  soft smiles of amusement. Eddie quickly pressed kisses all over your face before maneuvering off you and helping you to sit up. 

“I’ll go and get him,” he whispered softly, “you just stay here and relax.”

“You sure?”

“‘course,” he promised as you immediately started to curl yourself back up in your blanket. Eddie, besides being an amazing partner, was an amazing and doting father which was one of the many things you loved about him, “I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Will you check on Ollie too, pretty please? She’s been awfully quiet for a bit,” which if you knew anything by now when it came to your Munsons, was never a good sign. 

“I’m sure she just crashed,” he didn’t think anything of it, “but I will. Save my spot!”

“Always,” you watched him head up the stairs, admiring the view before he disappeared. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey bub,” Eddie’s voice was soft as he stepped into the nursery, the soft night light illuminating the room in a pretty glow. When he peeked into the crib, he found big brown eyes looking up at him curiously before a gummy little smile appeared, “what’s wrong, cutie? You hungry or do you wanna be held?”

Jamie babbled at him, as though he understood what Eddie was saying before looking his chunky little arms towards him. Eddie gently picked up and cuddled him to chest, pressing big kisses to his chubby little cheeks, “I’m sensing you just want some cuddles, huh?” 

He sat down in the rocking chair, both of them relaxing as he gently rocked them back and forth. The baby was sprawled out on his chest, clutching at a lock of Eddie’s hair, as Eddie rubbed his back and sang softly under his breath. He’d never imagined himself as a father, really not until you told him you’d been pregnant with Ollie, but now? Now it was his favorite thing in the world, along with being your husband. He couldn’t imagine any other life. 

Once the baby was back asleep, he tucked him back into the crib, making sure he was comfortable before gently stroking his cheek, “good night, Jamie. I love you so, so much.”

He stepped out of the room and closed the door about halfway before making his way over the playroom. You were right - your daughter had been too quiet.

“Ollie Pop?” he called out softly as he stepped into the room. Before he knew what was happening, he felt a pair of arms wrapped tightly around his legs, the force almost knocking him over. He looked down to find the small girl hanging onto him with a worried expression and tear stained cheeks, “baby, what’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” she cried, her big brown eyes glittering with tears, “I didn’t mean to, Daddy.”

“What are you talking about, kiddo?” he crouched down so he was eye level with her, tenderly brushing away her tears, “what happened?”

“It was an accident!” she insisted, still to Eddie’s confusion. He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze in an attempt to get her to calm down.

“Shh, babe, slow down,” he dropped his voice to a softer tone, trying to show her that he wasn’t mad, “tell me this - is your body safe and sound?”

“Mhmm.”

“Is your heart safe and sound?” he asked and she gave him a half nod and shrug. It was a tactic the two of you had come up with when she was younger to try to get a better understanding of when she was upset or something had happened. She was still young and small, and couldn’t explain what was going on as articulately as someone older could. But she always understood this, “why is your heart not safe?”

“I broke it,” she whispered, pointing behind her between some sniffles, “I didn’t mean to break it. Now you’re going to be sad.”

“Olivia,” he looked to where she was pointing at his guitar, finding the strings either broken or loose. His first instinct wasn’t to be mad or upset, it was to make sure she was okay - the strings could hurt when they popped. He took her hands in his to make sure there were no cuts or injuries, “are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

“No.”

“Okay, good,” he kissed her forehead, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“You’re not mad?”

“I’m not mad, baby,” he promised, “I’m happy you’re okay. But do you know what I’m going to ask you?”

“For me to never touch your guitar again?”

“Not that,” he said and her face lit up, “you can play with it and look at it any time, but only when I’m with you. That way nothing will happen and you won’t get hurt. Does that sound okay?”

“Yes,” she nodded. The two of them looked at each other for a few moments before he made a silly face at her. She broke into a fit of giggles, her worries just melting away at the lok on Eddie’s face, “will you be able to fix it?”

“‘course I will,” he promised; realistically it wasn’t that hard of a fix, just more annoying than anything, but it really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, “but that’s a worry for later.”

“I’m sorry,” she almost whispered as he picked her up and she wrapped her arms around his neck, “Mommy told me not to play with it but I didn’t listen. Do you think she’s gonna be mad at me?”

“No,” he perched her on his hip, “she’s going to be glad that you’re okay. She’s going to ask you to do the same thing. It’s not that we don’t want you to have fun, we just want you to be safe.”

“‘Cause you love me,” she smiled as he kissed the side of her head.

“Exactly,” he agreed with a soft nod, “its almost bedtime for you, kiddo. But do you want to come and hang out with me and Mommy for a little bit?”

“Yes,” her eyes lit up as he started heading back down the stairs to the living room.

By the time he made his way into the living room, you were already asleep, snoring softly and all cuddled up in your blanket. He shook his head fondly before sitting down at the opposite side of the couch so he wouldn’t wake you up. He made himself comfortable and when he took a look back at his daughter, she had nodded off as well. 

“Oh my girls,” he said softly, “I love you all so much.”

It wasn’t long before he was asleep either. 

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Congrats on 1k!!

for the ask game!

J: “dont touch me, get away from me”

in Someone who cares

hurt/comfort

book

and if I can make a special request that Eddie is the hurt party?

Thank you so much! 🥰 Always thrilled to write more about my favorite family.

Some dreams come true

Words: 954

Rated: G

Tags: Modern AU; No UD AU; Established relationship; Married Steddie; Steve is Dustin’s dad; Author Eddie; Hurt/comfort; Fluff

Notes: Set in the same universe as Someone who cares

“Eddie?” Dustin knocks on the door of the study. It’s slow and hesitant, and that alone is enough to tell Steve that the kid was not exaggerating when he called and told him to get home immediately. “It’s me. I’ve brought Dad. Please open the door?” 

There’s no answer. 

“Damn,” Steve murmurs. “What the hell happened?” 

Dustin scowls.

“No idea. He opened that package that arrived for him, and then he went all silent and weird and locked himself in there, like- … oh, do you think it’s a bomb?” 

“A what?” Steve squawks. “What the fuck, Dustin? Of course it’s not a- who’d even send us a bomb?” 

“Dunno, grandpa?” Dustin is wibbling in his spot, weirdly elated with the notion. “He must still be pretty damn pissed, right? I mean, last time you saw him, Eddie punched him in the-” 

Steve groans. “Jesus Christ, Dustin, I promise it's not a bomb. Go do your homework or whatever, I'll handle this.” 

Dustin deflates, but sulks off towards his room, grumbling under his breath. Steve sighs and turns back to the door.

“Eds? I'm not leaving, just so you know.” 

For a few seconds, everything stays silent. Then, something shuffles and footsteps approach. The lock clicks, but the door doesn't open. When Steve steps into the tiny room, Eddie is already back in his desk chair, elbows bracketed on his knees, head almost level with his hands. He's holding something. A book.

A familiar mix of feelings stirs in Steve's guts. Alarm. Worry. The overwhelming need to find out who hurt his husband and slowly tear them limb from limb.

“Eddie? What's-” 

“Don't touch me. Get away from me.” 

Eddie doesn't raise his voice. Steve catches himself wishing he had, because the quiet brokenness of the words is somehow infinitely more scary. His feet stop dead in their tracks, halfway between Eddie and the door. From where he's standing, he recognizes the book Eddie has in his hand. 

“Author's copies arrived,” Eddie says, almost as if he read his mind. His head jerks weakly at the package sitting by his feet, holding a stack of identical books, all bearing Eddie’s name on the cover. 

“But…” Steve mutters while his brain is still parsing through the situation. “But that's amazing, honey. You've been looking forward to this so long, why-” 

“I know,” Eddie groans. The book flops to the ground as he brings his hands up to cup his own face. “I was. I am. It's just that …” 

He exhales a long, shaky breath. 

“It's all real now, Stevie. It's here. And- … and next week, it's gonna be in stores, and everybody will be able to pick one up and what if it sucks? I've been dreaming of this for as long as I can think of, but that's all it was - a dream. But now … I dunno, I'm just … I'm scared.” 

“Hey,” Steve whispers, sinking to his knees to bring them face level. “Hey, look at me.” 

Eddie does, big brown eyes peering out from between long fingers. Steve chuckles, reaching for those hands to pull them down into Eddie’s lap. 

“Do you remember the pizza party?” 

Eddie blinks at him. “Huh? What are you-” 

“That was the first time I wanted to kiss you. I had only known you for a few weeks, but somehow, I was already falling in love with you.” Steve smiles, running his fingers over the familiar shape of Eddie's hands and arms, tracing the black ink of his tattoos. “I didn't do it then. Do you know why?” 

“Because Mike puked on your sofa?” 

“Yes,” Steve says automatically. Sputters. “I mean no. I mean- God, you're such an asshole.” 

Eddie’s mouth twitches. Steve sighs. 

“The reason I didn't do it,” he clarifies, “was because I was scared. Because I thought I'd rather spend a lifetime dreaming of having you than turning it into a reality and somehow messing it up. But you know what?” 

“Hm?” Eddie hums, melting into him as Steve leans in to touch their foreheads together. “What's that, love?” 

Steve smiles at the pet name, pressing a kiss to the dimple at the corner of Eddie’s mouth. 

“I'm so incredibly fucking glad we got our shit together in the end,” he says. “Because the reality of it is so much better than anything I ever could've imagined.”

“So much fucking better,” Eddie whispers against his lips, and then neither of them says anything for a while. When they pull out of the kiss, Steve presses the fallen book into Eddie’s hands. 

“This'll be fantastic,” he promises, smoothing over the wrinkle in Eddie’s brow with his lips before he can argue. “You just wait. Now, come down and help me with dinner? Dustin’s convinced you have a bomb in here.” 

Eddie snorts a laugh and stands from his chair, carefully putting the book back with the others before slipping his hand into Steve’s. “What, seriously? And here you are, wondering why I’m doubting myself. With the things that kid comes up with, he should be the author in this family, not me. A bomb, fucking hell!” 

Steve laughs softly as they make their way down the stairs. “You just wait until that book blows up and it turns out he was right.” 

“Yeah, as if,” Eddie says, but there’s no bitterness left in his voice. He smacks a noisy kiss to Steve’s temple, pulling him into the kitchen with a dorky spin and twirl. “Keep dreaming, honey.” 

He definitely will, Steve thinks as they get to work between a constant stream of bickering and kisses. His dreams have a habit of becoming true, after all, and he's no longer afraid of that. 

More celebration ficlets

[jay-wasstuff]

Not arguing with a man with big brown eyes, whatever you say beautiful 🥰

[chasedbyunclewalt]

Hey everyone! So I finally wrote a thing!! I’m pretty sure is absolute garbage but 🥰 I’m here! Attempting to replenish the lack of DPS fan fiction!! So here it is (also I forgot how to add a Keep Reading bar on mobile help)

Summary: you’re new at Welton and your cousin Charlie’s friends take you in! Neil Perry x female reader x Platonic! Charlie Dalton

“She’s off limits, thanks.” A blunt voice sounds from behind me. It’s my cousin Charlie only naturally. I’ve just transferred to Welton Academy, now that they’ve begun accepting girls. The only downside of this is that my over protective older cousin Charlie won’t give it a rest. Of course there were ups and downs to the whole thing. Charlie had introduced me to his friends initially so I knew someone in most classes, but they were mostly boys, who flirt a lot, or act like they’ve never seen a woman before.

“I’ll decide if I’m limited!” I angrily turned to whisper yell at him, after giving a polite smile to Pitts who I was just speaking to. This obscure comment makes Charlie roll his eyes.

“Are you coming to the meeting tonight?” He asks casually as we all stand on the campus outside.

“Uh yeah If I still can.” I respond hoping the so-called “Dead Poets Society” meeting was still open to me. “Yeah you can!” Neil cuts in from looking at his book. He stands up from the brick wall he was leaning on.

For some reason this assurance makes me grin. I suppose if Neil says I can… I then turn back to Charlie. “I’ll come get you at.. let’s say 9?” He says in a hushed tone and walks away pointing to his watch.

I will admit. I’m appreciative to have a somewhat big brother on campus. Charlie and I spent most of our childhood when he wasn’t here, together anyway, so we really are family, cousins, and friends.

At 9 I’m waiting in my dorm. I’m in some comfortable slacks and a large coat when I hear a tap on my window. I open it expecting the boyish grin from my cousins. I open the drapes revealing a Neil Perry. I open the window curiously. “Hey- it’s you?” I ask. “Yeah! Charlie’s down there but Cameron forgot something so they went back they’ll meet us- hi..” he says with his typical smile and laid back demeanor whining with excitement. His brown hair is a mess from the hostile weather outside.

Later I sit in the cave. A mere observer for now since I wouldn’t have anything to share my first time here. I smile and shake my head as Charlie continues this Nawanda act. Neil who stands in the middle of us all looks toward me with a smile “I forgot to ask- Y/N would you like to share anything?” He asks with a warm inviting expression. Like he truly would love for me to get up there. I smile appreciatively and shake my head. “Not this time Neil thank you..!”

After the meeting we sneak back. To ensure I got back safely Charlie offers to be the one to sneak to the girls dorms with me.

“I’ll come too..?” Neil suggests softly. Charlie nods and quietly ushers us in.

“Goodnight guys!” I wave a bit as I quietly try to enter into my dorm which is extremely difficult with decades old door hinges.

As Charlie and Neil walk back, they enter a quiet hallway where Charlie mumbles grinning to Neil. “So you like her..?”

“What?” Neil asks with fake confusion. He figured he could pull it off because he’s never been much of a lady chaser.

“What?” Charlie mocks. “You like her! Y/N!”

Neil blushes knowing only Charlie knows him like that. They stop in the hallway by their dorm rooms.

“She’s a very lovely girl-“ Neil starts, attempting to be indirect. Charlie just chuckles and says. “Alright I know… it’s fine” he waves off “although…you should ask her about theater or whatever.. she’s into that..” Charlie says playfully but also with thought. It’s a bit funny Neil is the only person Charlie would even consider trusting in such a situation. They both say good nights and enter their dorms on opposite sides.

[ladylooch]

Wait! I finally have a blurb idea (I was in a drought for weeks) What if you and Nico have an FWB thing going on for months and no one defines the relationship? So now your friends are telling you that he'll never claim you as his gf because he doesn't feel the need to do that since you are that (this happened to a friend, is horrible) so they pushed you to date someone else. But when you are on that date you see Nico across the room and he is looking at you with his big puppy eyes he is heartbroken because he thought you were official or at least exclusive, and now you have to mean his broken heart and assure him that you also want that. 🥺🥹

Anything to You- Nico Hischier

A/N: Ahhhh the classic, we totally know what we are but then we catch feelings and we don’t. WE LOVE IT! Thank you for the fun request 😘

Word count: 1.2k (yes over a blurb, hope you don’t mind 🥰)

Warnings: Mature Themes (18+), angsty!

I still remember the first time Nico and I had sex.

It was rushed. In a bar bathroom where we both had gotten carried away grinding drunk on the dance floor with a handful of his teammates. Our hands and mouthes bumped against each other awkwardly. Neither of us removed our underwear, just slid the fabrics to a spot that we could fully connect. We both climaxed fast, the obvious sexual tension between us too much to hold back.

After was awkward; we were only supposed to be friends. We stumbled through the aftermath as we worked our pants back into place. He didn’t want anything serious. I kinda did, but hated the concept of dating. So, we decided we would be cool being once and a whiles with each other. 

There was never any talk of forever. Never a breakfast in the morning. We slept at each other’s places, but it was always quick kisses goodbye as we ran off to our separate lives where we were just friends. I fell in love with him quickly. Nico stayed aloof.

Which is why I don’t understand the look of devastation on his face right now.

“Neeks?” I question, glancing over my shoulder at my date. Nico is silent, staring beyond me to Colton who is sipping on the glass of red wine I poured for him. In Nico’s hand is a brown bag, containing take out from our favorite Thai place. 

“Ah…” He stammers. “Um, I thought I’d bring you dinner. Cause I thought you were working late like you said.” Troubled by guilt, I pinch my cheek between my teeth. I hadn’t wanted to tell him about Colton until I thought it was something real. I still don’t have an answer to that. “But you guys can have it instead.” He thrusts the bag out to me, avoiding my eyes. I can tell he is trying to hide how wounded he is.

“Neeks…” I reach out for his fingers. He pulls his hand away like my skin burns his.

“It’s… yeah. I’ll see you later.” 

“Nico.” I step out of the apartment, watching his pursuit to the elevator. Someone is getting off on my floor so he dashes in immediately. 

The ding of the elevator matches the light bulb illuminating above my brain. We may have never talked about forever, but we also never talked about seeing other people. 

Shit.

The next few weeks, I feel like a stranger to Nico for the first time in three years.

He heads out of town with the team a few times, ignoring every one of my attempts to reach out to him. He’s left me on read, clicked the ‘fuck you’ button when I called, and refused the delivery of my latest attempt: Swiss chocolate truffles.

“I don’t know what to do.” I say to Kristen Haula when we are munching on Avocado Toast and siping mimosas at brunch. “He won’t talk to me.” She shifts awkwardly in her seat.

“I think he was surprised to see you with someone. It’s been a year since you two started whatever… this… is. Plus you did lie to him about what you were doing.” Her eyes widened like she is walking a cautious line between what she knows and what she is willing to share. She isn’t wrong.

“I know. I wanted to know what things were going to be with Colton. But that’s over.” I shake my head, smoothing out the napkin in my lap. “I honestly never thought I was anything special to Nico. With his recent behavior, that seems more true than ever.” Kristen snorts.

“Seriously? How are you two so off base with your feelings?” I stare back at her blankly. “He ordered you a WAG jacket for playoffs this year.” My stomach drops to the floor. “Still think you aren’t anything to him?”

I shudder in recognition. Now this is serious. Casual girlfriends, friends with benefits, puck bunnies, etc- none of them get WAG jackets. Only the women the players see a long-term future with do. And Nico ordered me one. 

“Do you have the jackets yet?” I ask her after a big gulp of my mimosa.

“Yeah.”

“I need a favor.” 

- - -

It’s late when I get to Nico’s apartment the next night. Almost midnight, but he had a game and I couldn’t risk the jackets being seen yet. It’s the most exciting time of year for the NHL wives and girlfriends. I don’t want to ruin their fun while I swing for the fences to woo the Devils captain.

Nico’s doorman knows me and let me into the building with zero hesitation. Clearly, Nico hasn’t told them I’m not welcome anymore. A little bloom of hope fills my chest. Maybe I still have a chance.

My knock on Nico’s door is loud, disturbing the quiet both inside and outside of his space. I bite my lip, hearing his soft footsteps coming to the door. I look down during the pause of him glancing through the peep hole. My ears listen intently, begging for the click of the lock.

It happens. A small smile tugs my lips up. My confidence rushes back in.

“Hi.” I greet him immediately. “Please don’t shut the door.” I hold my hand up. Nico’s eyes are wide and he is speechless, staring at the WAG jacket he ordered for me. It’s gorgeous, made of black leather with red accents. His last name and number are huge on my back. Sparky studs are perfectly placed on the points of the bold letters. It fits perfectly, like I am the only one who could have ever worn it this well.

“I broke our deal.” I blurt out fast.

“What?”

“We said this wasn’t anything serious. But I fell in love with you a really long time ago. I was so scared to tell you and because of that I hurt you. I’m so sorry, Neeks.”

“Yeah, you looked really in love with me with that guy in your apartment.” He scoffs. He’s hurt. His thick eyebrows are furrowed and he will barely look at me.

“That’s not fair.” I shake my head at him. “You never.. told me about how you felt. Now you’re upset with me for having someone else over?” 

“I don’t understand how you could do… that. I can’t think about anybody but you.” 

“Did you consider maybe he was a distraction so I could finally think about somebody else but you Mr. Perfect?” He straightens, jaw getting rigid. He grips the door tighter like he’s preparing to shut it. “But it’s nothing with him. Nothing like what you and I could be. It’s over.” 

Nico looks down at the floor, then slowly drags his gaze back up my body, lingering here and there until his brown eyes get to mine. I can’t read him. I wish he would give me something. But if I have to leap all the way, I will for him.

“If it’s too late, I understand.” I whisper, heart beating so hard in my chest I’m confident he can hear it. “I can go back to what we were. I’ll be anything to you.” I whisper. He steps forward, reaching for my arms. He runs his fingers tentatively over the jacket, then steps forward even more to see his identifiers stitched onto my back. I look up at him, watching every flicker on his face as he brings it closer to mine.

“I want this. With you.” He murmurs, next to my ear. He presses his nose into my cheek. I wrap my hand around the back of his neck, turning so our lips collide. He keeps talking between our kisses. “Want my name all over you. On your back, on your driver’s license, right in front of mine as Y/N and Nico Hischier.” 

“Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

“Same reason you did. I’m scared to lose you.” He pulls back so he can look into my eyes. “This is not an easy life.. being with an NHL captain.”

“Cause it’s been so easy being friends with you.” I chuckle back. “I’m not afraid of hard work, Neeks. You know that.” He grins, then wraps his arms around me to bring me into his apartment.

There is nothing left for us to discuss.

This time, it’s clearly defined exactly what we are.

[daffi-990]

✨ Inspiration Saturday ✨

Soooo I mentioned last week that I’d found a title for Rival Firefighters 🚒 …

I even made a little banner for when I start posting (which won’t be for a while yet).

Title is from the song Haven’t Had Enough by Marianas Trench which I am currently obsessed with 😍 (seriously some days I just listen to it on repeat for ages, especially when I’m driving).

And here’s a little snippet from a scene that’s been fighting me for weeks but today I actually made progress with 😭. Thank you @thewolvesof1998 for reading over what I sent you and making sure it made sense and for your very helpful suggestions ❤️

He makes his way from car to car checking in on each one’s occupants, offering up first aid if needed. It’s repetitive work and Buck finds himself getting bored until his eyes spot a familiar name on the back of a turnout coat. Now things are going to get a lot more lively.

Buck makes his way over to where Diaz is finishing applying a Band-Aid to an elderly gentleman’s forehead.

“As I said before, you don’t have a concussion but if you start feeling dizzy or anything out of the ordinary, call your daughter okay?” The old man nods in agreement, Diaz patting him on the shoulder before collecting his things and getting to his feet.

“Firefighter Diaz, it’s been a while.” Buck says in greeting as the other firefighter turns around.

Diaz’s hair is sweaty and loose, a few strands falling forward over his forehead that have Buck’s fingers twitching with the want to touch. His face is coated in a mix of dust and maybe car oil? Buck doesn’t know exactly what the black stuff is but it is a look and Diaz is pulling it off.

Diaz clenches his jaw as his eyes harden. “Not long enough.” He mutters, walking past Buck.

“Oh come on!” Buck follows after him. “I bet you’ve missed me. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder and all that.”

Buck certainly missed Diaz and his big brown eyes and thick fucking thighs that are connected to such a glorious ass. He really wishes the man wasn’t wearing his turnouts. It’s a crime to keep an ass like that locked away.

“Absence makes the heart grow fonder but I still find you incredibly annoying and wish you’d stay gone.” Diaz shoots back, looking 100% done with Buck and the conversation.

Buck also missed this, whatever this is. He gets such a high from flirting with and teasing Diaz. Maybe it’s the hard to get ideal that’s doing it for him, but whatever it is, Buck likes riling Diaz up and today is no different.

“You wound me!” Buck clutches at his heart in mock offense. He expects an eye roll or another bitchy response, but Diaz just keeps walking, doing a wonderful job at pretending Buck doesn’t exist. Which, rude.

No pressure tagging: @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @fortheloveofbuddie @lover-of-mine @wikiangela @spotsandsocks @malewifediaz @spagheddiediaz @athenagranted @exhuastedpigeon @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @eddiebabygirldiaz @rainbow-nerdss @wildlife4life @the-likesofus @theotherbuckley @try-set-me-on-fire @steadfastsaturnsrings @jamespearce9-1-1 @devirnis @callmenewbie @disasterbuckdiaz @djdangerlove @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @housewifebuck @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @ladydorian05 @loserdiaz @captain-hen @weewootruck and as always, anyone else who would like to share something 🥰

[endwersed]

WIP Wednesday

Cashing in on the open tag from the amazing @renmackree 💖

Here's a bit more from my current Sterek FWB AU - you don't see me. Derek continues to be straight (ha, sure) and Stiles continues to enable him. A li'l nsfw.

-

“I feel like I should argue, on account of your heterosexuality, and all,” Stiles says, tongue darting out to wet his lips for a second, “but I’m definitely way too horny to be a gentleman right now, so… get your pants off and get over here, Hale.”

Derek doesn’t quite trip and fall into a heap on the floor in his haste to step out of his shorts and briefs – but it’s a pretty near thing.

The clothes leave a dark cotton puddle behind his hurried footsteps, and it’s barely any time at all before he finds himself kneeing his way onto the bed, the soft mattress dipping beneath him as he chases Stiles towards the centre of it. Stiles has this huge, borderline ridiculous grin on his face as he watches Derek catch up to him, his eyes lidded, the brown almost entirely eaten up by the black of his pupils as he looks his fill.

In the mussed-up sheets, his fingers flex and unflex, pulling the fabric between his knuckles as he rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. The inviting smile remains around it.

Without a word needing to pass between them, Stiles leans himself up and rolls himself over, flopping down onto his belly, the round of his perky ass now on full display for Derek’s laser focus. He pulls his legs underneath himself and shoves his shoulders against the bed, presenting himself face down and ass up, his knees shifting apart as he twists his head on the pillow to peer at Derek over his shoulder.

Derek knows he looks more than a little moronic right now; blinking down at Stiles with a gaping mouth, his hand curled tightly around his dick to stroke himself to full hardness – not that it takes much at all. But there’s very little he can do about it when it feels like his brain is threatening to leak out of his ears pretty much any second now.

“Condom?” he just about finds the cells to ask.

Immediately, he kind of really hates himself for even offering in the first place. Truly, he cannot think of something on this godforsaken earth that he wants more than to feel Stiles' tight, hot asshole clinging around his raw cock.

But it's what he should do; it's the right thing to do. So, even as he burns to bite them back, he lets the words spill from his lips just like acid, all the same.

Derek's skin grows hot with a renewed hunger when Stiles gives a quick shake of his head.

“I’m not seeing anyone. Still clean.” He shoves his forearms beneath the pillow he rests his head against, hips hitching just that little bit backwards, still not quite close enough for any skin-to-skin contact. “You?”

Derek feels something settle in the deep recesses of his bones, hearing that from Stiles. A question, unasked but introspectively obsessed upon, all the same, has been nudging at his bristling consciousness ever since Scott and Allison’s engagement party. A question of whether anything had blossomed from Scott practically forcing Stiles to meet that loser Brad.

He knows that they swapped numbers, couldn’t get away from the conversation fast enough to avoid hearing Stiles telling Scott all a-fucking-bout it. But he could never find the right way to ask Stiles whether anything came of that exchange; whether this… thing between them, between Derek and Stiles, had a quickly approaching expiry date, because somebody finally clued up and realised that Stiles is quite possibly the ultimate gay catch.

With a deep-seated sense of tranquility, he knows, now. Stiles isn’t seeing anyone. Stiles is still in this, with him. Stiles is still… his.

Whatever the fuck that means.

“Yeah,” Derek finally answers Stiles’ returned question. “Still clean, too.”

Stiles flashes him a grin, all teeth and promise.

“Then what are you waiting for, big guy?” he goads. “I was ready before you even joined the party.”

-

Low low low pressure tags 🥰 @dear-massacre @eevylynn @hedwig221b @lucky-bishop @violetfairydust

[znerac]

hello!! i love your fics. i was hoping for maybe a pedro x reader fic, established relationship where you are sick and he takes care of you? or visa-versa. (alt maybe you are sick on a weekend he was coming home to surprise you while he’s away filming)?

This is such a cute idea idk how i never thought of this! 😧 also so sorry i would of gotten this out sooner but i went out on vacation with like barely any service ❤️❤️

I'll also keep in mind to maybe write a ver where Pedro's sick. And sorry its a bit short :P

Anyways i Loved writing this, here ya go 🥰

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Reader. Warnings/tags: no specific gendered reader, No y/n, Petnames, fluff, Just cute stuff :) Summary: Pedro comes home to surprise his partner with a visit, But the Reader is sick and he takes his time caring for them <3

Feeling under the weather always sucked, How could it be enjoyable? Laying in bed, feeling down and crappy, And unfortunately you had come down with something. You were fevered, stuck in bed, sleeping all day and whimpering in pain from whatever you caught. It sucked enough being alone, since you had to force yourself out of bed to eat. When all you wanted to do was rest like your exhausted body asked you.

You body shivered, leaning up against the counter as you waited for the water in the kettle to boil. Wrapped up in a blanket while you attempted to feel warmer. Sighing when the kettle whisteled, and you poured yourself a cup of tea to your taste. Bringing the hot beverage to your lips and humming as it soothed your throat.

Day two of feeling like shit, what a start to the weekend. You stood in the kitchen drinking your tea, revelling in the warmth it gave you. Furrowing your brows as you heard a door open, and even heard your name. It almost sounded like-

Pedro. He walked into the kitchen with a big smile, that only faltered as he looked at you. "Oh mi amor, You don't look so good" he said, coming over to you and wrapping you in his arms. Pedro gave you a few kisses on the forehead, you groaning as you leant into it. "I thought you were filming" you hummed.

"Well, i was missing you, thought I'd surprise Mi hermosa compañera. I flew home for the weekend just for you" he says, petting your hair. "So are you not feeling well? You feel clammy" pedro asked, looking into your eyes with those brown orbs. You shook your head with a frown, which he met. "Ah, don't worry baby. I'll make you feel all better" he said with a smile, kissing your forehead again. "Go sit on the couch, pick a show you like mi amor. I'll be right out there with you"

You nodded, squeezing his hand briefly before leaving with your blanket and tea, making yourself comfortable on the couch. A show you like acompanying you. Pedro took a while, but when he came back with soup and water, and a couple of meds your heart melted.

"Awh.. You didn't have to-" you hum, taking the soup and setting it comfortably in your lap. Pedro laughs, "Well, what kind of a boyfriend would i be if i didn't take care of my partner?" he replied, handing you the meds along with the water. He sat down beside you, pulling you close.

"Thank you" you mumble, swallowing down the pills. He just nods with a smile, planting a kiss on your cheek. You shivered, a rush of cold flowing down your spine. In a quick whim to get rid of the cold, you take a couple spoon-fulls of your soup which almost immediately cures it.

On days like this you were more than thankful to have pedro. He was always willing to take care of you. And when he felt like this? You gave back just the same.

Eventually when you were done eating, pedro just pulled you into his lap and rested his head on your shoulder, littering your neck with kisses and small whisperes of his affection. Just by being with him, you felt better.

When Pedro noticed you passed out cold, he chuckled, Saying to your unconscious self affectionate words and how much he loved you. A few things that were cheesy, and others that were just him admiring you. But then he put you in his arms, got up and carried you to bed.

When he set you in, he lifted up the covers and made sure you were comfortable and warm. Crawling in and hugging you into his arms. He had no plan on going back to filming until you were better.

A/N: Usually i try not to write micro's but i was a little stumped. Sometimes cute little drabbles are good though when you need a bit of a readers-block breaker i guess.

[sagesolsticewrites]

Come and Kiss Me

Anto takes you as his date to the Oscars. Things get very soft and veryyyy spicy

Warnings: mature content (fingering, PinV penetration, hand kink), first time, swearing

Word count: 2.5k

a/n: happy Oscars day y’all!! Hoping our boy Anto will be there, but if he’s not… at least we’ll have this 🥰 (also. this was entirely prompted by @winniemaywebber and I losing our minds over Anto’s chest hair and then losing our minds over it again in relation to the below gif so everyone say thank you Winnie <3) edit: this was supposed to be posted on Sunday but was postponed due to extenuating circumstances!

playlist for this fic by the ever wonderful @winniemaywebber ily bestie <3

Masterlist

As you fiddle with the fabric of your dress — definitely one of the nicest things you’ve ever worn— your gaze drifts over to your boyfriend for about the tenth time that night.

Your gaze scans over him hungrily, taking in the pristine black suit that fits him perfectly, clean lines molding to his figure in a way that makes your knees weak. The best part, however, is his stylist continuing the tradition of leaving the top few buttons undone, revealing a patch of chest hair that you couldn’t look away from if you tried.

“Darling?” Anthony asks, waving his hand in front of your face to get your attention, “Everything alright? It’s… I know this is a big thing, and—”

You blink back from ogling him, leaning over to silence him with a kiss.

“I’m fine, my love. It’s just the Oscars.” You joke as you pull away, sending thanks up to whatever makeup deity made your lipstick every type of water-food-and-smudge-proof; including, apparently, kiss-proof.

The Oscars. Your boyfriend was attending the Oscars, and bringing you along as his date— the first time he’d ever brought you to any kind of event like this. You were in the car on your way there and you still couldn’t quite believe it.

“‘Just the Oscars’,” he repeats playfully, brown eyes sparkling, “Not a big deal at all. Seriously, though,” his tone becomes genuine as he smiles softly at you, “thank you so much for coming with me, my love. I know it’s a little nerve-wracking, but… it truly means the world to me.”

“I’ll do anything I can to support you, Ant. You know that,” you reply softly, “This is an absolutely huge night for you, and I’m honored to be by your side for it.”

His face lights up with a grin and he presses a kiss to your cheek, careful not to smudge your makeup.

He squeezes your hand three times — “I love you”— as you pull up to the entrance of the Dolby Theater, a cacophony of shouting and flashes erupting as the paps note a new arrival.

He helps you out of the car, taking a moment while his back is to the photographers to meet your eyes, a silent check-in.

You take a deep breath and nod, giving him a soft smile, which he returns as he turns and leads you onto the red carpet.

It’s absolute chaos, but you do your best to smile and pose, your boyfriend effortlessly guiding you along. You step to the side when the photographers shout for some solo shots of Anto, and he shoots you a playful wink as you watch him pose, some decidedly not Oscars-appropriate thoughts coming to mind as you watch his elegant fingers adjusting his hair and fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves. 

He’s pulled aside for several interviews along the way, and never fails to introduce you as “my beautiful girlfriend,” making your smile grow impossibly wider as he gushes about how incredible you look and how much you’ve supported him over the course of his career.

Finally, finally, the two of you make it into the theater. His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers, “You did so good, sweetheart. The hard part’s over, now.”

“I have no idea how you do that by yourself,” you tease, forcing down the butterflies that erupt in your stomach at his proximity. Not the time.

“I just think about getting to come home to you when it’s over,” he replies, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple as you find your seats.

— — — 

You’re unbelievably giggly by the time the two of you finally get home, despite the fact that the single glass of champagne you’d had should’ve worn off long before. No, it’s not the champagne you’re drunk on; it’s the excitement of the night, the pride you feel being on Anthony’s arm at such a prestigious event, the way he kept looking at you as if you were the only person worth looking at in that crowd of A-list celebrities.

“Darling,” Anthony mumbles against your lips between kisses as the two of you stumble through the entrance to your apartment, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it into a corner, “Have I told you how fucking stunning you look tonight?”

You let out an utterly contented, toe-curling sigh as his lips trail down to your jaw, your neck, and back up again.

“I don’t know, honey,” you say breathlessly, fingers raking through his artfully mussed curls, “I don’t think you have, maybe you should tell me again just to be safe?”

“You look,” he begins, smiling against your mouth, and scatters kisses to every part of skin he can reach— your neck, your ear, your cheeks, your shoulders— as he showers you with compliments, “absolutely radiant, gorgeous, beautiful, stunning—” your breath hitches as he pauses by your ear to hiss “absolutely delectable.”

You can’t quite hold in the gasp that escapes you as he punctuates those words with a light graze of his teeth against your skin, drawing a delicious shiver up your spine.

“Ant—” you whine, his name the only word in your head as your senses fill with him: his teeth and lips on your skin, hands gripping your waist, his heart beating rapidly under your hand as you rest it on his chest, your other hand in his hair and the sweet, warm scent of his cologne filling your nostrils.

“Sweetheart, I know—” he pauses, pulling back so he can see your face, his voice breathless but serious as he continues, “I know we… haven’t, yet, but I— God, I want you, I want you so badly, darling…”

Your toes curl as you take in his pretty brown eyes darker than you’ve ever seen them, pupils blown wide with desire. The two of you have gotten handsy plenty of times, of course, but… haven’t gone all the way yet.

“We won’t do anything you don’t want to do,” he assures you softly, one hand coming up to cup your cheek, “but I so badly want to show you how much you mean to me. Let me make love to you, sweet girl.”

Your hand, still lingering on his chest, toys with the soft curls of his chest hair just visible under his unbuttoned shirt, your shy gaze meeting his. You just got home from the Oscars, your adoring boyfriend showering you with affection and compliments and kisses even after one of the biggest nights of his life. If there was ever a time to act on your desires…

You pull him in for a sweet kiss, arms winding around his neck, nodding frantically as he pulls away, “Yes— yes, honey I want to, I— I want you.”

Anthony lets out a groan, crashing his mouth to yours, hands wandering all over you as if that were all the permission he needed. His fingers linger near the zipper of your dress, pulling away briefly to check for your consent before tugging it down, revealing the simple lace bra and panty set you’d chosen for tonight.

“Jesus fuck, angel,” he groans at the sight, “You’re fucking perfect.”

He mouths hot kisses in a trail from your shoulder up your neck, hoisting you into his arms effortlessly as his lips return to yours, your squeak of surprise muffled by his mouth.

He carries you over to the bed, laying you down as gently as if you were made of glass.

“How do you want it, sweetheart?” Anthony says softly, his breath hot against your cheek as he hovers over you, “You want my mouth first?” A cheeky glint appears in his eye as his fingertips trace patterns all over your skin, “My fingers?”

His teasing smile grows wider at the whimper you fail to bite back.

“Knew it,” he murmurs, fingers tracing lightly over your stomach, “You’ve been staring at my hands all night, sweet girl— don’t try to deny it,” he scolds playfully as you open your mouth to defend yourself, “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you want.”

He scans your face for permission and, at your jerky nod, dips his fingers below the waistband of your panties.

“Oh,” you keen as his fingers brush over the coarse curls between your legs to drag through your increasingly damp folds, Anthony’s breath leaving him in a huff when he feels just how wet you are.

“Fuck, baby” he breathes, entranced by the way your eyes flutter as his fingers glide along your core, “All this for me?”

You nod, squirming against him, trying to get his fingers where you want them as he remains frustratingly just outside you.

“So needy,” he teases, “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you.”

You gasp as he slides one finger inside you, slowly pumping in and out.

Anthony swears softly as he speeds up, the come hither motion making your hips arch off the bed, “You’re so tight, angel.”

His name tumbles from your lips in a moan as he adds a second finger, the tension building in your core.

“Ant— Gonna make me—”

His fingers brush a soft, spongy spot inside you, and you cry out as his thumb circles your clit gently, that simple motion pushing you over the edge.

You come down from your high, chest heaving, just in time to see your boyfriend gently pull his soaked fingers out of you and pop them into his mouth, moaning at the taste.

“Oh my fucking god, you’re gonna kill me,” you whine at the sight.

Anthony chuckles at your dramatics, pulling you close for a hungry kiss as his hands travel along your body.

You fumble with the remaining buttons on his shirt, then move to tug at his belt.

“Wanna see you,” you gasp into his mouth, “Please.”

His breath hitches as your fingers brush the prominent bulge under his slacks.

“Fuck, okay, baby, just let me—”

You prop yourself up onto your elbows to take in the view as he scrambles off you, shucking off his shirt and pants.

His eyes lock on yours as his boxers come off next, his length springing free, already leaking from the tip.

It takes you a moment to remember how to breathe in the middle of removing your panties.

“Oh my god,” you murmur under your breath as he approaches you once more.

You feel him smiling as he bends down for a kiss, your hands wandering freely over his bare skin as his lips travel down your neck.

He makes quick work of your bra, tossing the lacy thing to a corner of the room as he clamps onto your nipple and sucks, making you arch into his mouth with a gasp.

Your toes curl as he mouths at you, his tongue swirling around your nipple until he’s satisfied, then turning to give equal attention to your other breast.

His lips travel down your belly, making it clear his destination is between your legs, and ordinarily you’d love that, but…

You can’t hide your grin at the groan that escapes him when your fingers graze along his cock.

“Christ, angel—”

“Want you inside me,” you breathe, meeting his eyes as he pulls away to look up at you, “Want you to fuck me, Ant.”

You can practically see him melt as your words hit him.

“Princess,” he breathes, lips dragging along your skin as he moves to hover over you once more, “Fuck, whatever you want, honey.”

“I’ll go slow, yeah? Tell me to stop if it hurts,” he says, lining up at your entrance and waiting for your nod of acknowledgement and consent to enter into you, inch by inch.

You throw your head back, moaning at the stretch as he fills you, Anthony’s breath catching audibly as he sinks into you.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, your nails digging into his skin.

He lets out a soft hiss at the feeling, brushing kisses along your neck as he pauses to let you adjust.

“You okay?” He asks, pulling back slightly to scan your face.

You nod frantically, momentarily unable to form words. If he felt this good just being inside you, what in the world would it be like when he started moving…?

Anthony lowers himself down to capture your lips in a tender kiss as he slowly pulls out and thrusts back into you.

“Oh my— fuck—” you whine into his mouth, toes curling at the sensation.

“Angel,” your boyfriend pants against your lips, “Shit, you feel fucking amazing— like you were made for me—”

You clamp down on your lip to stifle a moan as he thrusts into you faster, dragging your nails gently down his back.

“No, no, no, princess,” he murmurs against your skin, nose nudging at your jaw, “Lemme hear you, please.”

A moan finally escapes you as he kisses his way up your neck, scattering kisses over your face as his pace increases.

“Just like that, darling,” he breathes against your mouth, his nose pressed against yours.

His name tumbles from your mouth in a sharp cry as he thrusts deeper into you, hitting your G-spot. You whine into his mouth as he kisses you hungrily, a warning.

“Anto— Baby, m’gonna—”

“Fuck, please cum for me, angel,” he groans, his eyes meeting yours, “Please, wanna feel you cum on my cock, sweetheart.”

Your hands fly to his hair, pulling him for a heated kiss to cry out into his mouth as you reach your second orgasm of the night.

“Oh my god,” Anthony gasps into your mouth, “Fuck, you’re fucking perfect, angel, so fucking good for me—”

A litany of praise falls from his lips as his hips stutter against yours, warning you that he’s about to reach his own climax.

He pulls out of you with a moan, once again meeting your eyes as he pumps his fist until, with a cry, he releases onto the sheets.

You roll over, legs still wobbly, to face him as he collapses onto the bed next to you, the two of you making a valiant effort to catch your breath.

One hand reaches up to brush away a strand of hair from your forehead, Anthony’s soft brown eyes searching yours.

“Was that okay?” He asks softly.

You cup his cheek gently, leaning in for a tender kiss.

“It was perfect, my love.”

“I’m glad,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to your nose before moving to stand, “I’ll be right back.”

He returns with a warm washcloth to clean the two of you, discarding it in the hamper before climbing back into bed.

You curl into him as his arms wrap around you, his skin soft and warm against yours.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you,” you reply.

It’s the last thing either of you hear before you’re fast asleep in each other’s arms.

[xdaddysprincessxx]

YES! TELL US ABOUT CARNIE!FRANKIE !!! 🎪🤡🤠🥳😈🥵🥵

Oh gosh idk . . . Okay okay 😏 you really pulled my leg with this lmao

Smut under the cut, 18+ only

-Frankie ‘Baby face’ morales, all the carnies give him shit for having a baby face hence the nickname.

- Yes Frankie is a coke head, lost his job as a pilot and ended up joining the carnival company as a way to make money/have a place to live (in a trailer) and also still get to enjoy coke

- Frankie saw you before you saw him. He was working one of the games near the entrance when you came in. You looked stunning in dark wash bootcut jeans with the rhinestones on the back pockets with a cute pink v neck tshirt on (idk go with me on this I’m feeling girly, wear whatever you want babes!)

- You just happened to look over and see him as you passed his booth, cute man with these big puppy dog eyes that seemed to be stuck on you🥰 deciding to be bold you pointed at him and then made a ‘come here’ motion with your finger and then turned and walked off towards the porta potties

-Frankie jumped so quick to put up his ‘I’m on break’ sign and quickly followed you, watching you go in the portal potty farthest from everyone. He gave it a few seconds before opening up the door and seeing you inside smiling big at him

-“Hey handsome. By chance could you tell me where I could find something fun to get into?” You say as seductively as you can

-Gulping and hoping like hell he’s picking up what your putting down he pulls a little baggie out of his pocket, “I got something a lil fun right here baby. Whatcha say?”

- You pull your tits out of your shirt and Frankie gets to work dumping some coke on your tit to snort.

-After he gets his, you grab the baggie out of his hands, “My turn” you say all giddy like before crouching down and pulling his dick out of his pants. You pump his dick a few times but in all honesty the man is already pretty hard, so you get to work making a line on his dick for yourself.

-Frankie just watches in awe at you taking charge like that, about ready to fucking burst at you touching him. Watching you snort coke off his cock is just wildly erotic to him 😍

-The two of you end up walking around all night, talking and giggling. He takes you on a few rides, cutting the lines bc he’s friends with the guys operating them. His good friend Ezra lets them stay on the scrambler and ride it three times back to back.

-that wasn’t the best idea for either of you, after getting off y’all had to sit down for a few at a picnic table while your stomachs settled back down lol

- As the carnival was closing, the two of you had just walked into the fun house when he whispers in your ear, “Run”

-Without a second thought, you started to run from him. It was more of a weird fast walk/jog type of thing as you tried to navigate random twists and turns before you found yourself surrounded by mirrors.

-You saw several you’s looking back at you with the same lopsided grin on your face as your chest heaved while you tried to catch your breath when you heard him, “Found you!”

-looking around you still couldn’t see him, “Where are you?!” You shouted back with a giggle

-“Behind you” he whispered in your ear as his hand came up covering your mouth as his other arm wrapped around your body and pulled you back into his chest.

-He dragged you back a few steps before turning you around capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangled in his curly brown locks as his hands found purchase on your hips holding your body next to his

-“Let me taste ya baby please. I gotta know how sweet an angel tastes when she comes.”

-you enthusiastically shook your head yes and immediately started to pull your jeans down, Frankie made his way to the floor quickly pulling you on top of him

-your hands shot out to hold yourself up as he pulled you up over his face, taking no time in licking up into your cunt, finding you already soaking wet

-Frankie ate you like it was his last meal on earth, you held onto his curls as if that was the only thing keeping you tethered to this earth

-When you came, you came hard. And Frankie held your thighs down with his huge arms, keeping your pussy on his mouth. You came again, this one came a lil quicker.

-By the time he let you get up, your legs were jelly. But you were gonna return the favor. You are a lady after all.

-Except Frankie stopped you when you made a move to unbuckle his pants. “I-it’s okay cariño. No need. I just wanted to make you feel good.” He said sheepishly as he batted your hand away. That’s when you notice a wet spot. A smirk crosses your face as you look up at him, “did you come in your pants?” You keep eye contact with him as your tongue darts out and licks the wet spot.

-Frankie lets out a groan as he pulls you up, “You’re coming home with me angel” and he helped you dress again and then proceeded to throw you over his shoulder as he took off to his trailer where you spent the night fucking and laying next to each other and talking.

Alternate ending:

You exchange numbers before he leaves and that’s when you find out you’re pregnant. You call him to find out what city he’s in, driving out to see him and surprising him with the positive test. He’s overcome with a lot of emotions but ultimately you both decide to be together, Frankie cuts coke out completely, you have the baby and you join the carnival and become this cute lil carnie family 😇

A/n: I wrote this in like 15/20 minutes. There are prob mistakes, it’s fine. I’ve been thinking about carnie Frankie all day! I love him. I absolutely would have his babies. We are not gonna talk about that, I have issues. It’s okay.

[forever-rogue]

Hello beautiful! Huge fan of your work! I have an interesting request. Don't know if you know or remember that tik tok trend where the women got those leggings, the ones that enhanced the ~booty~ and I immediately thought of frankie morales. 👀 could you do an x reader fic about that? Can be smutty too iykyk 🫠🥰 xo

AN | Oh, trust me. I do know 😏

Pairing | Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language

Word Count | 2.2k

Masterlist | Frankie, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────

You weren’t sure if you were more amused or embarrassed by your latest little impulse purchase. Perhaps it wasn’t so much an impulse considering you’d gone back and forth on whether or not to buy damn the thing.

Those silly leggings that everyone was talking about. The very ones that proclaimed to enhance your butt and make it look incredibly enticing. 

And, as you laid in bed one evening unable to sleep, you came to the decision to buy them. What was the worst that could happen? You’d have a new pair of leggings. Which wouldn’t be too bad. At best you’d have an extremely luscious booty. You considered that a win-win.

And now they’d arrived, your little package just sitting on the front porch until you were able to get home from work. 

Frankie had beaten you home and had grabbed the package and set it on the table in the kitchen, sending you a quick text to let you know you’d received a package. If only he knew what was in store. Maybe. The jury was still out on that one. 

Once you’d gotten home, you were ready to grab the package and all but ran upstairs. 

“Hey baby,” Frankie’s voice cut through your internal monologue and stopped you with a sweet smile. Your face flushed with warmth as you smiled back at him. Your husband, ever so observant, noticed that something was on your mind, “what’s up?”

“Hey my love,” you stepped over to him and let him wrap his arms around you, pulling you into a warm hug. His arms might have been your favorite place in the entire world, strong and soft at the same time, holding you just perfectly. You buried your face in his chest, taking his familiar scent, all uniquely him, “missed you today.”

“I missed you too,” you could feel his chuckle reverberating throughout his chest, the sound familiar and always welcome. You looked up at him, finding those big, brown eyes watching you reverently. You couldn’t stop yourself from leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips…and then you stole a few more, “alright, what’s up with you?”

“Can’t I just kiss my husband without any ulterior motives?” you teased, wishing that for once he couldn’t read you so easily, “nothing’s up, Francisco. You’re just really handsome and I am really lucky.”

“Mhmm,” he hummed in content as you carded a hand through his dark locks, lightly scratching at his scalp, “whatever you say, Abejita.”

“Exactly,” you grinned, “whatever I say goes. What do you wanna do for dinner?”

“How about we order in Thai?” he suggested and you perked up, stomach already growling. He heard it and laughed, a sound that went straight to your heart, “I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll order if you want to go and change.”

“Perfect,” oh yes. This would give you the opportunity to try the leggings without him being too nosy, “just the usual please! I’ll be back in a few minutes!”

“You’re up to something!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” you shouted as you bounded up the stairs taking them two at a time. 

Once you made it to your bedroom, you ducked into the en suite bathroom and ripped open the package. You were almost giddy as you ran your hands over the soft, buttery fabric. You undid your pants and almost kicked them off in excitement before pulling on the leggings.

They did feel nice on your skin, and you turned to study yourself in the mirror. You posed a few times, trying to take in all angles to see if the leggings did what they proclaimed to do. After a few moments of intense scrutiny you realized that you couldn’t quite tell. You like the way your butt looked, but honestly you liked it in most things, so you weren’t sure if the leggings actually did anything. That would be up to Frankie to decide when you wore them. 

You pulled them back off and stuck them in the laundry basket to be washed soon. You doubted that Frankie would notice anything new, especially an unassuming pair of black leggings. You pulled off the rest of your clothes and slipped some comfy loungewear before heading back downstairs. 

Frankie’s face lit up at the sight of you; he was practically the physical manifestation of heart eyes. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you whispered shyly, “you’re gonna make me fall even more in love with you.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he grinned happily as you waved him off, “I mean it.”

“Even in my lazy, comfy clothes?”

“Even in your lazy comfy clothes,” he agreed, “always and in anything you could ever put on or without anything on.”

“You’re a fool, Morales.”

“A fool for you, Morales,” and you almost knocked him over with the sheer intensity of your hug. You really, really, loved this man.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────

It was a few days before you managed to do laundry, and even longer until you finally grabbed the leggings. You’d almost forgotten about them at this point, but you had a day off and planned to do some stuff around the house, so you threw them on along with a t-shirt. Definitely not anything sexy or over the top, but comfortable. That’s what you were going for if you were going to be moving around. 

It wasn’t until that evening when you were making dinner that things got a little…interesting. Frankie had gotten home and had gone upstairs to clean up first, dirty and greasy (and very sexy in your humble opinion) and ever the gentleman with not wanting to get you dirty either. You were standing at the counter, chopping some vegetables for a salad when you heard him make his way back downstairs. 

“Hey honey,” you didn’t turn around just yet, instead focusing on the task at hand. When you heard nothing but silence, you assumed something was wrong. After wiping your hands on the tea towel you turned around to find him standing there with an expression of awe on his face, “Francisco? Is everything alright?”

“Y-yeah,” he managed to choke out, nodding slightly, “you look…umm. Wow.”

“Just so you know wow can mean a multitude of things, and not always good,” you crossed your arms over your chest and watched his face flush a pretty shade of rose, “care to elaborate?”

“You’re so fucking hot,” was all he managed to choke, which caused you to break into a fit of giggles. Normally so eloquent but suddenly rendered speechless, “I-I mean, you’re beautiful. You’re always beautiful but today you also just look so…hot.”

“Ahh, well thank you,” you bounced over to him and pressed a kiss to his stubbled cheek, “you look very hot yourself.”

“Are those new leggings?” he finally asked, eyes skimming down your body as he swallowed thickly, “they look nice.”

“Oh,” you looked down at yourself when it suddenly hit you that you were indeed wearing those leggings, “oh. Yeah, I am. You like them, Frankie?”

“I do,” he confessed, almost nervously as he tried to make sure he wasn’t saying the wrong thing. When he saw the coquettish grin on your face he knew that he’d said the right thing, “I really do.”

“Do they make my butt look good?” you turned around and lifted your t-shirt just enough to make sure he could get a full, long look at everything. 

“They sure do,” he rasped and before you could say or do anything else, you felt his hands on your hips and he pulled you into his body, “so good, you minx. You planned this didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied innocently, a small gasp escaping your lips as he slid his hands down to grab at your butt, “maybe you just really like my ass.”

“Hmm,” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his warm, soft frame. You felt him drag his lips against your shoulder and up the side of your neck which caused you to sigh happily, “you’re so gorgeous.”

“Francisco,” you reached up and gently touched his cheek as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You loved him, you loved this, but you decided that you were going to mess with him just a little bit longer, “but I’m in the middle of making dinner so can you please control yourself for a bit?”

“Fuck,” he groaned as you slipped out of his grasp, moving to lean against the other side of the counter. You put the most innocent look you could muster up before turning back to the cutting board, “you’re killin’ me here, baby.”

“Aww, my love,” you pretended to give him a pout and he playfully held up his middle before putting on a puppy dog face of his own, “can’t control your own horniness for a few minutes?”

“One - it’s going to be longer than a few minutes and two - can you blame me? Have you seen yourself?” he tried to reach over to touch you and shimmied out of his grasp as you held up the knife, “you’re brutal.” 

“I love you too,” you grabbed a piece of cucumber and gently shoved it in his mouth with a giggle before he could argue any further, “you know, if you help me finish dinner, we can eat sooner and that means we can-”

“Whatever you need,” he nodded eagerly, “I’ll help.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ────

You made it a point to drop things or bend over as much as possible while the two of you made dinner. You could practically hear the small groans and sharp inhales that escaped his lips. Perhaps it was a little cruel, to taunt your poor husband like this, but you’d made it up to him later.

You also weren’t immune to the way he made it a point to siddle around you as much as possible, his hands just grazing over your body. You’d let him get away with it for now, just a little taste for what was to come.

“You’re eating so slowly,” Frankie pointed out as you chewed your bite a little bit longer before swallowing. Maybe you were, “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“It’s important to thoroughly chew your food before swallowing,” you shrugged innocently, “it can really help your digestion.”

“You. Are. A. Menace,” he insisted, scowling at his broccoli like it had wronged him in a manner most foul, “can’t believe you tricked me into marrying you.”

“That’s because you know I’m worth it.”

“Not right now,” he mumbled as you started laughing. You knew he was just playing but it was a little fun to get him all riled up. That was just one of the many wonderful parts of your relationship. You raised an eyebrow and he sighed dramatically, “fine! Even right now.”

“That’s what I thought,” you took one more bite before pushing away your plate and leaning back in your arm. Frankie’s eyes were quick to shoot over to you as he drank you up, “you know, I think I’m done eating.”

“Oh?”

“Mhmm,” you grabbed your glass of wine and finished off before looking at him in what you hoped was a seductive look. Either way, it was your husband, he was a goner for you either way, “but…I’m still hungry.”

“Oh,” his pretty brown eyes widened. 

“Wanna help me out?” you stood up and held your hand out towards him. He watched you in silent awe before nodding eagerly and taking your outstretched hand. Before you could lead to him towards the stairs, he pulled you towards him, crashing his lips on yours hungrily. He kissed you like his life depended on it, refusing to part from you until you were both dizzy and out of breath “I see you do wanna help me out.”

“As if that was ever a question,” he  stole a few more kisses, making sure to get a good feel of your ass before dragging you towards the living room.

“Frankie! Upstairs - bedroom,” you snickered but he shook his head, messy curls bouncing roguishly. 

“No time,” he insisted, his hands already dancing under the hem of your shirt, “need you now, baby.”

“You’re too much!” but you were putty in his hands anyway.

“But you love me.”

“But I love you,” you shrieked happily as he gently pushed you onto the couch, pinning you underneath him. His eyes were as hungry as you felt, “Frankie.”

“As much as I love you in these leggings,” he tugged on the waistband, his voice low and raspy, “they need to come off.”

“Yes, please.”

[lovejosephquinn]

Could you write something about Joe x reader making a bet of what their child’s first words will be? Maybe have it where they say “dada” and Joe gets all excited and does a victory lap around the house with their kid in his arms 😩

Stop it, dad!Joe has a special place in my heart 😳 But I'm going to write the damn blurb anyway.

I couldn't come up with a name for baby, so please call him whatever you wish.

Thanks for requesting again @daleyeahson 🥰

Your usual 6am routine consisted of being woken up suddenly by the baby monitor, not always that your 10-month-old son was crying for either of you, but quite simply because he was making loud noises directly into it so get your attention.

Joe went on his morning run whilst you got up and tackled the diaper change, got his bottle of milk ready and laid him down on his play mat next to you so he could entertain himself for 5 minutes, his big brown eyes that he'd inherited from his sweet daddy sparkled as he gazed amongst the dangling stuffed animals above him. When Joe returned, there was never short of nothing but a smile on his face seeing the two loves of his life bonding together.

"Look Y/B/N, daddy's home." Joe came stealthily came jogging over to his son, straight down onto his knees and lifting him up in the air earning the cutest smile back and slowly bringing him down to give him a kiss. "Hello, my beautiful boy."

You all settled on the sofa, taking Y/B/N back into your arms to give him his morning bottle. "What do you think his first word will be?" you questioned, it's something you'd brought up a lot but you both clearly weren't sure of answer.

"Maybe dad." Joe winked, giving you a cheeky smile back. "How charming." You replied.

"Well, the way I see it, is you tell him who I am a lot more than I say who you are, so it makes sense doesn't it."

"Who says our son won't say mummy first." You took the bait and Joe loved how easy it was to capture you with his words.

"Bet me on it."

"I'm not betting you on our baby's first word Joseph, you fiend."

"Too chicken?"

"No, I'm not I-" you shut yourself up before you could bark at him anymore, it was just feeding him with pure pleasure watching you internally scream at the thought that he could be right.

You went to take a shower whilst Joe entertained your little one. Bouncing him a top his knee and singing the most monotone nursery rhymes which clearly made him laugh.

"Can you say daddy?" Joe shot himself a smirk.

"Da-dd-y." The soft dough eyes that mirrored each other was such a picture, instead he got nothing, but a gurgle, a humming sound and a few bubbles spit out his mouth. "I'll take that as a yes."

You came back to find your boys sprawled out on the sofa, watching mind-numbing morning tv, your son laid vertically on Joe's stomach whilst his hands wrapped around Joe's fingers. "Time for a nap?" you diminished the happy silence between the two of them.

Joe leaned a look down at Y/B/N, contently smiling at him, lifting to pick him up, taking him upstairs and putting him down into his cot, enveloping his head with his hand, stroking it soothingly. Joe switched on the baby monitor whilst you watched from the door, every single moment you witnessed between Joe and your son was magical, he was the best and proudest dad there ever was.

You reached out your hand to Joe and he happily obliged, intertwining his fingers with yours and wrapping himself around you. "I love you." Joe whispered.

"I love you." You softly replied.

About an hour later, you'd done some of the boring house chores whilst Joe made you both some breakfast. As you sat down to eat together, a little murmur came from the baby monitor. "Think he's waking up, love."

You took another forkful of your sweet pancakes keeping an ear out for when you'd need to dash upstairs to retrieve him from his bed. Taking a sip from your tea, the next thing you heard was surely your ears playing tricks on you.

"Dada." Joe's eyes shot to the monitor, his mouth falling open. Your eyes swatted between his face and the monitor also. "D-did you h-hear that?" Joe stuttered. "Da-daaa." Your son started to sob, and Joe excused himself rather rapidly, running straight upstairs. You listened to Joe greeting him. "Hello, my boy, are you awake now. Daddy's here." You heard the ruffles of him picking him up out of his cot. Your son chuckled and you pictured clearly Joe holding him close and spinning him round slowly. "Dada." You could sense the smile's forming both of their mouths.

"Oh my god, Y/N, he said it again." Joe just about squealed into the monitor. You couldn't help but roll your eyes, but the excitement made you grin somewhat enthusiastically. "Y/B/N, can you say Daddy?"

"Dada." Joe yelped and you could hear the stomping footsteps of him coming downstairs suddenly and stopping at the kitchen doorway, his eyes lit up magically, tears barely clinging. "Y/N, I could cry."

"He loves you, Joey." Joe took a victory lap of the house reaching is son up in the air, swaying him back down and holding him tightly. "And I love him too, I never thought it was possible to feel more love for this kid than I already do."

"I guess you won." You sighed, folding your arms and leaning against the countertop, referring to the bet he wanted to make earlier this morning.

"We won. Look at what we made together, baby. He's perfect."

[shares-a-vest]

I feel an obligation to say steddie bb but I read steddie + sportsball and I’m weak SO, April Writing for WIP weekend? 🥰

Thank you for the ask 💖

Also not me completely forgetting you are one of the BB mods 🤦‍♂️ *side eyes my BB doc as I continue to ping-pong between a bunch of random wips tonight!

Some more Steddie Sportsball coming up! Here's the first snippet.

Also also: my deepest apologies to you Lex, Patron Saint of Steddie Sportsball Fics as I bumble my way through not writing specifics about Amercian Sports. But hey, at least I can make that Eddie's thing™ right???

Eddie sighs and looks at his watch. This game is only in its… Something innings and the Blue Team aka, Steve’s Team are gonna lose. Sitting here for god knows how much longer feels pointless. Especially considering there is fuck-all else to do in this big dumb house of his boyfriends. And the limited interest Eddie did have in this game is all gone now that the one hot guy on this team aka, Moustache Man, a very tall brown-haired guy with a thick moustache and arms to die for, got run out mere seconds ago… Or something. Whatever it was, he sculked off the diamond pitch, handsome face hung in shame, not be be seen again for the rest of the afternoon.

Help me work on my mountain of wips

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

honestly i find your professor peter adorable🥰 would give him a chance but would be a bit intimidated by him not knowing what he might be capable of…. but at the same time whatever you say man with brown eyes 🥰🥰🥰🥰✨✨✨✨

Haha those big brown eyes would get me too! And he is so cute. He's setting his trap and when you're too far into the spiderweb there's no getting out

[starlightsearches]

Aaaaand maybe track 11, with Eddie? I’d choose a love song for him, but I really am curious as to what you’d do with this song…..eheh….ya know it, fave song is Dead Man’s Party by Oingo Boingo 😅❤️❤️❤️

All Dressed Up with Nowhere to Go

Track 11 - Hungry Heart by Bruce Springsteen: Pick a character and tell me your favorite song, and I'll write a short blurb or headcanons based on it.

Kas! Eddie x GN! Reader

thank you, irma! i'd never listened to dead man's party before, but it fucking SLAPS. i hope you like what i made for you 🥰

📼✨ mixtape milestone ✨📼 requests open through march 1st

Warnings: drinking, puking, ANGST, talk of death and mourning, making out, blood sucking for the sluts uwu, language, a very open ending

Your hand is getting cold.

You let your eyes wander down briefly, stopping when you spy the cause. There's punch spilling over the edge of your cup, trickling down your hand and leaving a sticky red stain behind.

Your mind's been on the run all night—or at least after the last four drinks—always looking for something simple to focus on but never staying long.

The sweaty condensation dripping down the windows. The thumping base traveling from the dance floor. And now the way the punch shines like blood against your skin in the spooky lights Steve spent the afternoon hanging.

"Hey, hey, hey."

A big hand covers your own, reaching for the cup, and you pull it back on instinct, trying to place the pretty brown eyes.

Steve. Of course. Speak of the devil.

He looks handsome, and very Harrison Ford-esque in the vest you found together at the costume shop. The costume fits him better than the Leia dress does you. In all the billowing white fabric, you look like a ghost every time you catch your own reflection.

So maybe that fits you fine. You hardly feel like you're here at all.

There's a crease between Steve's brows, and he reaches for the cup in your other hand. You pull back on instinct, sloshing punch in the other direction. It lands with a loud splat on the floor.

"I think you've had enough," he says softly.

Steve purses his lips, and you know he's holding back a whole slew of unhelpful phrases. You've heard them all—I know it's hard, but you have to try and enjoy yourself. Eddie wouldn't want you to be sad. He wouldn't want you to spend his favorite holiday crying into a pillow or blacked out on my couch. He'd want you to move on.

But Eddie's been dead for six months. So who gives a fuck what he would want.

You pull the cup to your lips, drink and drink and drink, letting the sweet sting burn any chance of tears from your eyes.

Steve only put this party together for your benefit. It was a nice gesture—going through the list of couple's costumes you and Eddie made together before, mashing the playlist of songs Eddie loved with ones people would actually want to dance to.

But you wish he hadn't. You wish he had let you wallow.

The empty cup crushes against Steve's waiting hand. You sway a little closer so he can hear you over the music.

"I'm gonna go dance."

There's a splash of guitar from the speakers, and you know it's one of your songs from the confused looks of everybody on the dance floor. Whatever. They get over it, swept up in the beat.

You let it take you, too, swinging around wildly, flailing with no concern how you look or who's watching. There was nobody around you wanted to impress anymore.

Eddie wouldn't care what you looked like anyway. He was a shit dancer.

Fuck.

The room is spinning. You're trying to keep with the beat, but there's the same lyrics, echoing over and over and over in your head.

dead man dead man dead man deadmandeadmandeadman. dead.

You're going to fucking puke.

Fighting through the crowd is like wading through a pool of bricks, which would still fucking suck if you were sober, and you are not. Catching on thrown back hands and angel wings, you stumble into the bathroom, just bending over in time to avoid vomiting a red stain down the front of your dress.

Your head has it's own heartbeat, pounding behind your eyes. You dip your cheek down to meet the cool porcelain.

There's no avoiding it. Hot tears spill over your face, plopping like raindrops into the basin. Fucking rock bottom, crying over your dead boyfriend on filthy toilet seat.

There's the sound of the door shutting and latching, just audible over your sobs. You lift your head, so dizzy and sad and hopeless it makes you angry.

"God," you're yelling, loud enough for it to echo off the tiles, "can't you see there's somebody fucking—"

He looks just like you remember him. And not in a good way.

The room already smells like sulfur, the way everything did down there—like sulfur and mold and fucking death. Eddie brought it with him. He brought it all. The holes in his hellfire shirt, scars peaking out of his collar, the mud and shit and blood staining his clothes.

He's got dark blue bags under his eyes, like bruises, cheeks sallow. Looking almost as tired as you feel. But he smiles, just the way he used to.

"Wow, sweetheart," —Eddie's voice is deep and gravelly as he kicks a boot up against the door, nodding back in the direction of the party— "this all for me?"

"Eddie."

That comes out as a sob, too.

He crosses the room in a few strides, a big hand at soft at your back, petting strands of hair off your sweaty forehead.

"Hey princess," he tries to smile, "long time no see."

Jesus. Your head's still spinning. You might puke again. It doesn't help that Eddie keeps going in and out of focus, like maybe you're dreaming this all up, the way his skin feels and the smell of him and the cute little curls in front of his ears.

"You were dead."

He huffs at you. "I think, technically, sweetheart, I still am."

He pulls one of your hands toward his chest, and there's nothing beneath it. No heartbeat. Just Eddie.

He doesn't expect it, the way you launch yourself at him, pulling him to floor. Eddie laughs, wraps his arms around you, his shaking lungs and the feel of his hands full of disbelief.

"I missed you."

You can tell he's missed you, too. He nods into your neck, hot breath on your skin.

"Why didn't you come back before?"

"Halloween seemed like a good time," he whispers, looking you in the eye, "wouldn't want to scare the neighbors."

His lips press tighter together. There's something he's not telling you. If you weren't so fucking high, you'd try to figure it out.

But you are fucking high—high out of your mind—and there's only one thing you want to do right now.

Eddie doesn't taste like death. He tastes like he used to, in the back of his van, in his bed or on the couch, his hands on you and his wandering lips, just bodies and kisses and nothing in between.

"Fuck, baby," he grunts, nipping at your ear, "you gotta be careful with me."

You shake your head. There's enough blood in him for the skin at his neck to turn a shade darker when you bite at it.

Eddie's hips shift against yours. He's breathing harder, although you're not sure where it goes, or what his lungs do with it once it's there.

"Can I- can I taste you, baby?"

"Mhmm."

It feels so good to be caught up in his arms again, you don't even notice the sting when his lips seal around your neck, the way his throat pulses with swallow after swallow. The groan he lets out is pained when he finally rips himself off of you.

Eddie cups your cheeks in both hands, thumbs petting at the left-over tears.

"Awww, baby. I don't think I should have done that."

You hardly hear him. Everything is fuzzy. You let your eyes fall closed, and the soft brush at your hairline could be his lips, or something you made up.

And then he's gone.

Steve's beside you when you lift your head again.

"Jesus, what the fuck happened to you? Robin found you on the floor and thought you were dead."

He's wiping at your neck with a cloth, or paper towel or something, and it hurts.

What did happen to you?

"I- I think I fell."

Steve hums, disapproving, cleaning the dripping blood from your neck, smoothing a bandage over the skin.

When you pull it off the next morning, all that's left of Eddie—or your vision of him—are two perfect little puncture wounds, and a few bruises in the shape of teeth.