Nonnies, I Present To You: 

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary You're having trouble sleeping and pot seems like the only solution. Good thing your dealer, Eddie Munson, knows of another method that he's willing to to teach you. You get more than you bargained for when he tells you what he gets off to every night - you. [8.8k]

warnings 18+ only smut, fem!reader, eddie teaches you how to masturbate, p in v sex, light praise kink, mutual pining/lusting, lots of kissing, dirty talk, weed ment, aftercare, they are not so secretly infatuated with one another, eddie is a soft dork but also dirty <3 r implied as dressing very femininely

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Eddie kneels outside his trailer. 

You stop at the lip of the grass and wonder what he's doing. His back is to you, covered by a band shirt familiar even from this angle and riddled with rips and moth holes. You're about to call out to him when he speaks. 

"You're hot, huh, sweetheart?" Softer than you've ever heard him. "Why don't you go inside? Escape the heat, yeah?"

You approach slowly, footfall smothered by the lush green underfoot. He's scratching behind the ears of a tabby cat. 

"It's so hot out! The sun's gonna cook you," he says, whisper-shouting.

Like the tabby can understand what he's saying it stands, stretches tall and then slinks off into the trailer. "Good girl," Eddie says, standing up. 

"Are you collecting strays?" you ask lightly. 

He turns to you, surprised but not scared. "Don't worry, you're still my favourite." 

Good girl. His words ring loud between both ears. "I'm not a stray." 

"Uh-huh. What's my shy girl want today?" You spin on your heel and Eddie starts laughing. "Sorry, I'm sorry! Come on, you'll like what I have!" 

"You know I can't talk to you when you get like this," you tell him, pouting from over your shoulder. 

He pushes a mess of black curls behind his ear and beckons you forward. "Come on," he says, sing-song. "Let daddy set you up."

"Jesus Christ," you mutter, following Eddie into his house unhappily. 

You hate when he gets in this mood, not because he's ever really made you uncomfortable, but because you like to be teased, and he knows it. Or he likes watching you squirm. Either way, it's dangerous territory. 

"How much did you want?" he asks. 

The cool inside of his trailer is a blessing. You hold your naked arms away from your skin and try to take a deep breath of cool air. "I have thirty dollars. So… however much that is." 

"Babe, what the fuck do you want so much for?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder at you incredulously. 

You follow him into his room. "Do you not have it?" you ask, tracing posters you've seen upwards of ten times by now. Eddie's a good dealer – reliable, sweet, and prone to freebies without any pervy requests in place. 

He once swapped you an eighth for a cheap charm bracelet. He wears it now, the silver delicate and entirely too sweet for his metalhead appearance. It looks good on him, anyhow. 

He pulls open the usual lunchbox you hadn't noticed sitting on one of his amps and pulls out more pot than you've ever seen at one time. "Don't I?" 

"Woah."

"Uh-huh. Ern't she preddy?" he asks in a drawing southern accent. 

You hold out your hands and he lets you take it. When you open the zip lock bag, the smell isn't awful. The buds are thick with green fuzz, and your eyes water. 

You pass it back to him. "How much can I have for thirty?" 

"For you? Half." 

"Don't do that, Eddie. Gimme what you'd give anyone else." 

"But you're not anyone else, babe. You're my favourite customer." 

"I'm gonna put you out of business," you say, lightly chiding. "Can I sit down?" 

He hums and nods and you sit cross legged at the top of his bed. His bed sheets are pushed away and the space is cold. His pillow under your hand is colder. 

Eddie doesn't bother weighing it. You roll your eyes at him but also feel amazingly happy, because it's a lot of pot for not a lot of money, because his favouritism speaks for what you hope might be a small crush. Still, when he passes you the new bag you feel guilty. 

"Eddie, I can't take that. I know that's more than thirty." 

His eyebrows jump. "I don't care. What's the point in doing this if I can't give pretty girls a little something extra?" 

"I don't know. To make money?" 

He holds out the bag. You don't take it. "Fine," he says, sighing.

"Thank you." You watch him fish three or four bigger buds out of the bag. He presents you with a much more reasonable amount, his hands stained with the smell. "Thank you," you say again.

"Yeah. Wanna stay and watch a movie?" 

You've known Eddie since middle school. Classmates, not really friends, not not friends, though ever since you've started buying a small kinship has blossomed between you. 

"What movie?" 

"Whatever you want." 

You nibble the inside of your lip. "You'll roll up for me?" 

"Sure will." 

So you end up on Eddie's couch with the tabby cat that isn't his purring heavily on your lap as he rolls a couple of joints for you. You won't smoke anything until tonight so Eddie drops them into your newly acquired ziplock bag with papers and the leftover bud. 

He sniffs. "So, you're not sleeping?" he asks knowingly, straightening out with a groan and disappearing out of view into the kitchenette. You're a total overthinker. Pot helps you calm down.

"I'm sleeping." 

"After toking up." 

"There's…" You scratch the vibrating cat behind its ears, frowning to yourself. "Worse things to do." 

"Better ones, though. Hey, do you want a drink?" 

You say no and he brings you a glass of water anyways. His hands smell strongly of hand soap and faintly of weed as he passes it to you. You take it carefully, wary of disturbing your cuddle partner. 

"Like what?" you ask.

"Cranking one out, for starters." 

You wince, afraid to bring the lip of the glass to your mouth in case you choke on it. "Anything else?"

"Running?" Eddie suggests, sitting with you but leaving a more than comfortable gap between your legs.

"Not my thing," you murmur. 

It's weird, but anything above murmuring feels like shouting in the calm of his home. The movie plays on the TV and the cat purs, Eddie spreads his legs out and slouches into the cushions, his face surrounded by dark hair. He smiles at you like he always does, amicable if slightly flirty. 

"Maybe pot is your only option," he says mournfully. He pulls a lock of hair in front of his face and his eyebrows pinch together. "Make sure you brush your teeth after though. Or you'll get bad teeth."

"Bad teeth?" 

"Smoking ruins your pearls." 

You put down your glass of water and weave your fingers into the cat's rough fur. Eddie is really nice. Really really nice. And he probably likes you, so… what's the worst that could happen, by asking? 

I'm only asking, you decide. 

"Eddie," you say softly, disrupting a big tobacco rant that he'd started. "What- when you say cranking one out, that's-" 

"You know." He holds his hand above his crotch and squeezes the air. You feel a terrible heat start to collect in your abdomen. "Five to one? Uh- Nulling the void?" He grasps for words at your lost expression. "Making soup?" 

His voice goes high. You think he's as embarrassed as you are, and you're not gonna ask again. You giggle. "Oh, right." 

He drops his hand heavy against the seat of his pants and leans back. "Crank one out and sleep like a log." 

"That works for you?" you ask tentatively. 

"Every night." 

You sink down into the couch and hide your face in cat fur. Eddie starts asking about how your job is, a genuine, earnest interest that further cements your next decision. You clear your throat. 

"Eddie, can I ask you something?" He grins and waves his hand. "When you," you wince, "'make soup', do you just- how do you…" You slink down so far you're almost falling off of the couch. "How do you make yourself-" You gesture to your pelvis and then screw your hand into a fist, self-conscious.

He blinks. "Finish?" 

You look at the chain around his neck rather than his face. "Yeah." 

"Are you asking me because you want to know how I do it, or because you don't know how to do it to yourself?" 

You rub your cheek with your shoulder. "The second option." 

"Shit," he mutters. 

"Sorry, you don't have to- I just thought-" 

Eddie sits up. He looks more serious than he had before but not any less patient, elbows braced on his knees and head propped up in his hand. He parts his fingers over his lips. 

"You don't know how?" he asks. 

"I must've missed that lesson in sex ed," you try to joke. It comes out awkward. Eddie laughs anyways, a huff of breath. 

"Lucky you, I've sat through sex ed three times." He grins brilliantly, but his joking tone softens when he sees your hesitant expression. "If you wanna know, I'm happy to tell you." 

"Are you sure?"

"We're friends, right? What are friends for?" You don't miss the sarcastic twist to his words or his ironic smile. 

Friends like you and Eddie likely aren't meant to be giving one another lessons on masturbation. But really, he's the only person you know who you could ask and wouldn't feel totally looked down on. Eddie's nice to his core, but better – he doesn't judge. 

You struggle to know what to ask. 

The cat chooses this moment to wake and jump off of you, strutting out of the trailer's open door and back into the sunlight without so much as a grateful look back. 

And now you're alone with him. 

"How's your anatomy?" he asks. You shake your head slowly. "You know, grade wise? Are we passing? B? B-? C?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about, Munson." 

"Do you know what's what?" he asks concisely.

You sit up and press your knees together, suddenly very aware of your 'anatomy'. "I think so." 

He purses his lips for a few seconds before shrugging. "Alright. We can work with that." Eddie pushes his cheek into the couch and looks at your face unflinching as he says, "You know what your clit is?" 

You cringe. Full body. 

Eddie shrugs. "What? That's what it's called. You don't have to be embarrassed about it." 

"I know what it is." 

"And you can't make yourself-" 

"No." 

He doesn't miss your frustration. "Hey, hey, it's fine. Some people think that it's, like, a magic on-button, but it's not. There's a whole process." 

"How do you know?" you ask genuinely. 

His answering smile is wolfish. "I'm in a band, babe. Fucking a guitarist is like, a bucket list thing or some shit. Girls will tell you exactly what they want if you're willing to listen." 

Something about his knowing look has your heart skipping a beat. Maybe two. He pushes his hand across the couch and you're not sure if it's on purpose or accident, only that he's leaning in, a small smile on his face. 

"And I'm a damn good listener." 

You meet his eyes and know what he's offering. He waits, ring heavy fingers splayed wide in the space between you. It's the sight of them – thick, long and adorned in string-wrought calluses – that tips you over the edge. 

He's already pulling back with a reassuring smile on his face, lips parted to likely say something too nice when you interrupt him. 

"Will you teach me?" you ask quietly. 

A split-second of surprise is quickly overtaken by enthusiasm. "You're not high, are you?" 

"No." 

He gets up to close the door and starts for his room. You linger on the couch uselessly and he doubles back, hand on the wall. "Are you coming?" 

The noise from the TV fades as you walk down the hall and into his room. Your socked foot nudges into a tower of books close to the door and you reach out to steady them. Eddie pulls the sheets back into place and flicks on the lamp. He pauses by the stereo before turning that on, too. 

A song you don't recognise starts to play. Eddie climbs up onto his bed and stands there for a second, suddenly very tall. "You wanna take off your jacket?"

"It's a cardigan." You peel the thin white cotton off of your shoulders and shift from foot to foot, unsure of yourself. 

Eddie settles on his knees, pulls off his rings. "It's pretty. Come here," he says, holding out his arms. 

You slide onto the bed cautiously, naked calves rubbing against the sheets. You feel as though every sense has been dialled to eleven; you're thinking about every brush of fabric, every small sound that they make. 

Eddie takes one of your hands and you sit with one leg crossed and the other hanging off the edge of the bed, surprised at his soft touch. He soothes your hand and brings it to his lap, eyes on your now-bared shoulders. 

"You dress real pretty." He says it with his usual dramatics, though there's enough sincerity there to make you smile. 

You look down at your delicate clothes thoughtfully. "You think so?" 

"Mh-hm. It suits you," he says as he drums his thumbs against the back of your hand. 

He pushes one palm up the length of your arm and pulls it towards him at the same time. You've never been touched like this before and you want it bad, shuffling towards him with a shameful speed. He takes it in stride, hand bumping up the hill of your shoulder. His index finger slides under the skinny strap of your top and tugs at it playfully. 

"You look sweet. Really sweet," he says, his voice more hushed than before. His eyes drop to your thighs. "You'll have to take those off, though."

"My shirt too?" you ask weakly, eyebrows pinched up at the starts. 

"Not if you don't want to." You hesitate. He takes your thigh into a big hand and gives you a small shake. "It's okay. Take your time. Or, if you changed your mind, that's totally cool." 

"No, I haven't," you deny, voice trembling with a mixture of nerves and anticipation. You kick your legs out in front of you one at a time and ease your shorts over the slopes of your thighs and calves, pushing them off of his bed with your feet. 

“If you change your mind at any point-“

“I’ll tell you,” you say, nodding as you pull your knees together. 

Eddie manoeuvres so he’s close, twisted toward you with his hand braced by your thigh. The cold metal of the charm bracelet you'd swapped him bites into your skin. If you leaned back and he leaned forward, he could kiss you. You think maybe he has the same idea as his eyes dart to your lips. 

They linger. 

He blinks and it’s gone. 

“I’m gonna rub your leg,” he says quietly, “and when I get to the inside, I’m gonna touch you. Okay?”

As he says it, his hand moves onto your thigh. Down to your knee.

Slowly, so slowly, back up. His fingers caress the inside of your thigh. He pauses. 

“‘Kay,” you whisper. 

His fingers flex over your flesh as he draws in. Then, like a shock, his fingertips press to your underwear. 

“I’m not surprised,” he says steadily, fingers brushing over your cunt, ghosting but never truly touching where you want him to. 

“By what?” 

“That you wear such cute panties.” He strokes the hem with the tip of his finger and you hold your breath as he slides it under the elastic, running the fabric over his digit gently. “S’exactly the kind of thing I pictured you wearing.”

“You’ve pictured them?” 

He looks up from his teasing and your panties snap into place. You gasp on instinct and his eyes narrow, his lashes kissing in the corners. “Does that bother you?” he murmurs. 

You shake your head. His lips quirk up, a smugness that makes your heart race ever faster. 

"Do you do anything like this with yourself?" he asks. 

"I'm never this nice." 

"That's a crime," he says, and he laughs loud, momentarily shattering the distilled atmosphere that had settled over you both. "Thighs like these and you don't touch them?"

"Is that what you do?" you ask, insecure.

"No, but it's different. I don't need to get warmed up like you do." 

"Warmed up?" you whisper. Having to ask these questions feels so embarrassing. 

Eddie being so soft about it makes it easier. "Relaxed," he whispers in turn, laughing towards the end.

His thumb rubs the elastic of your underwear and drifts slowly inward until he's pushing over your folds. You gasp and it's slightly startled, sounding too close to panic for Eddie, who's hand flinches away. 

"Didn't like that?" he asks. 

You rush, "It's okay. Surprised." 

One big hand holds your thigh, the other strokes your cunt. He's a little firmer now, pushing the breadth of his thumb over your panties until he touches something very sensitive. "Here?" He pushes up a little higher and your breath catches. He makes an almost inaudible cooing sound and flattens his hand, rubbing the length of your cunt without finesse. It feels good anyway. It surprises you how much you like it. 

He pinches your panties.

"Ready to take them off?" he asks. 

"Yeah." 

You lift your hips and peel your underwear down, folding your legs to pull them off of your ankles. You clutch them in your hand, unsure. 

Eddie sits back and pulls you towards him. You let him manhandle you with a small gasp, his hands pressing into the soft of your tummy. You can't see his face anymore. 

"Alright," he murmurs, pulling your thigh over his lap and spreading you wide. His voice is loud in your ear because of his proximity, and you resist the temptation to turn your face to his.

"Let's just-" he works your underwear out of your hand and tosses them aside. 

His hand lands on your knee and moves down fast. 

You lean back heavily into his chest with your hands pulled to your sternum. 

"Eddie," you say, "what do I do?" 

He hums. "Touch yourself." 

You seize up and he's quick to soothe, fingers closing around the crook of your elbow.

"Hey, I'm gonna show you. I'm gonna show you," he repeats. He pulls at the lip of your cunt and spreads you open, groaning softly. You wouldn't hear it if his lips weren't so close to your face. "How'd you have a cunt this sweet and never touch it? I mean, fuck." 

His fingertips whisper past your pubic hair like he's going to say something more, but he only asks, "Hand?" 

You put your hand into his, the back to his palm. 

He sets it to your thigh. "Do what I did before, okay? Slowly…" He drags your hand up and down the length of your thigh. 

Your heart is racing. Every time you crawl close to your cunt the burning longing to be touched, to touch yourself, and to have him touch you intensifies. 

Eventually he pulls your hand to your clit. "You're so sensitive. Is it always this bad?" he asks sympathetically when you jump, tickled at the feelin. 

"I haven't tried in a while." 

"Oh, I see." Eddie encourages you to push your fingertip into the squishy bead, drawing slow circles. "Poor baby. Just desperate to have someone take care of you." His voice is so low, so ridiculously soft, you find yourself sinking into his hold. He squeezes the crook of your elbow with one hand, the other still guiding your ministrations. You bite your lip at the sensation that's begun, the tiny spark of pleasure.

"Here, let me-" He lifts your hand away from your clit and you whine involuntarily. "Shh, sweetheart, I'm only gonna give you something to work with." 

You turn your head to him and watch as his mouth opens. He sucks the very tip of your finger between his lips, the heat of his tongue a momentary flash. When he pulls it back, your finger shines with his spit. 

Your eyes are half-lidded, watching through the crush of your lashes as he presses it back to your clit. "How's that? S'that better?" he asks, crooning. His tone sports an underlying mockery, a light-hearted teasing that's slowly turning intense. 

It is better. It's different. Your fingertip searches for purchase against the slick skin and struggles to find it, the wetness allowing for freer, faster movement. 

You push a second finger against the first. 

Eddie stops helping. You pause, confused. 

"No, you got it, sweetheart. You keep going," he reassures, grabbing a hold of your thigh again. He teases the dough there, never cruel but maybe close, fat moulding under his fingers as he squeezes. 

Your breathing builds with pleasure. Still, it's hot enough; there's no sign of an oncoming climax, no tightening coil in your tummy. You huff with exertion and frustration. "Eddie, it's not working." 

"I'm not done." He sounds almost stern. Your stomach flips. "You have to think about what you want." 

"What I want?" 

"What turns you on." 

You think of his hands and their rings. His happy trail. 

His voice. Good girl. 

You slam your eyes shut.

Eddie gives you another mean squeeze. "What do you think about, when you-" 

You don't let him finish. "What do you think about?" you ask, too loud. 

He stills. His nose pushes into your shoulder, his hair tickling your skin as he asks, "Are you sure you wanna know?"

Your breath catches. Your fingers stutter where they work into your clit and Eddie starts you right back up again. His lips brush your shoulder. 

"Yes," you say, gasping as pleasure like little shocks of heat shoot to your core. 

The hand at your elbow starts to rove, tickling your arm as he strokes downwards. "You first," he murmurs, teasing your wrist. You swear you can feel his smile against your shoulder. 

You breathe in through your nose. "Uh, I think of- of somebody…" You try, but you just can't say it. 

Eddie's fingers push down your crease. Stop right before your entrance. "Is this okay?" 

"Yeah." 

"Mmm…" He circles your entrance. "Now what does a pretty girl like you think of when she's touching herself?" You don't think he wants an answer. His middle finger brushes across the slick well and pushes in. You squirm and he holds you in place. 

There's something very hard digging into your spine. 

"Something sweet as you… Let me guess. Boy next door comes around to mow the lawn, you invite him in for a drink, one thing comes to another-" He pushes his finger in deeper. "And he's fucking you.

"That sound about right?" 

You shake your head. His own perks up where it rests on your shoulder. "No? Huh." 

Your circles have grown slow and staggered, distracted by his touch as he eases his ring finger in beside his middle. "Something more romantic? Wedding night, love of your life. Guy that's gonna treat you like a diamond. Way a girl like you deserves." He pushes in, stretches them out. You moan as he curls them, as his arm works back and forth. "Gives it to you gentle." His movements slow to match.

And sure, that sounds nice. But it's not what you think about. 

"No," you manage to get out through shallow breaths. 

"No? You don't want it gentle?" 

"Not- not all the time." 

"How about right now?"

"Please." 

Slowly, slowly, the shape of Eddie's hard cock against your back starts to move in time with the thrusts of his hand. He pushes in deep, fingers searching emphatically for the sweet spot, the thing that's gonna make you- 

"Fuck," you whimper. 

His cock jumps. You feel it. 

"You keep rubbing that pretty little clit of yours, sweetheart." 

You do as he asks. You're desperate enough now that you imagine you'd do most anything he says, your climax a tangible, physical possibility. Your tummy feels heavy and aching with want, worse when he probes deeply and marks your sweet spot again. His lips press to your shoulder, soft enough that you worry you're imagining it. 

"You see what I'm doing here? See what fingers I'm using?" he asks. You open your eyes reluctantly. His wrist turns. You watch his fingers sink into the gummy heat of your cunt. "Tight little hole's just pulling me in, fucking clinging to me, baby, she's greedy." 

You gasp, a hiccup of scandalised sound. 

"Want you to try, okay? You gonna do that for me?" 

"Yeah, Eddie." 

"Good girl." You moan, you don't mean to, but he's fucking into your quick and your finger pushes into your clit roughly. Eddie revels in it. "You like that? You like being called a good girl? I fucking knew it." 

You frown and start to turn to him. He presses his cheek to your head so you can't, stuck looking down the length of the bed at your trembling legs. 

"You looked so flustered, standing all sweet and quiet by the van out front with your thighs squeezed together. You think I didn't see that shit?" 

You're limp against him, thighs spread wide as you work into your clit, chasing this new feeling. You can hardly breathe, every exhale a keening moan that has you shame-faced and weepy. You roll your hips to meet his fingers, his hand slapping against your cunt with a slick slap. 

"You looked so sweet. Y'always do." He turns his lips to your ear and curls into you until your squealing. "Guess looks can be deceiving." 

You're so close, so close. Tendrils of heat curl heavily at your core. "Eddie, I'm- I'm-"

"You wanna cum?"

"Yes," you pant. 

He pulls his fingers from your cunt and you're so confused that you stop, your climax slipping away in seconds. 

"Sorry, but you have to do it yourself. This is all pointless if you can't get there on your own," he says. 

Your chest heaves. "That's mean. You're mean." 

"I never claimed otherwise. Here, middle and marriage, babe." He guides your hand to your entrance. You push your fingers inside, your tongue between your lips in concentration. Your fingers aren't as thick as his, they don't feel quite the same, but Eddie pushes your thumb into your clit. "Move your wrist. Feel that? Feel how soft you are? How fucking warm you are?" 

You're not nearly as good as he was but every clumsy touch feels electric. You push your thumb into sweeping circles and pant your frustration aloud, feeling close to tears. 

"You wanna know what I think about, when I jerk off?" he asks unexpectedly.

You nod, your head moving back into his collar. He rubs the lengths of your arms leisurely, his lazy demeanour in total juxtaposition to your desperation.

"There's this girl that comes to see me," he starts, coloured by a smug amusement. "Sweet thing, soft-spoken, always wearing these pretty clothes looking like something straight out of the movies.

"I think about a lot of things. Her thighs-" One of his hands falls to your thigh in time, massaging, "fuck, just wanna bury my face in them and never come out. Pull down those cotton shorts she's so partial to with the dainty stitching and-" He laughs and his lips part over your shoulder. His teeth scratch up, up, up. "Make her fucking cry my name. Feel those thighs tense up around me." 

You're so close your entire body shudders. You slow without meaning to, holding your breath in wait for Eddie to finish his story  

He gives you one final push. "Always wondered if she sounds as pretty as she looks when she cums." He kisses the small graze he'd given you mere seconds ago and everything is blue-white with heat. "Gonna clue me in, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me?" 

Your eyes close hard and you breathe out, an exhale ragged and weak and mewling. You don't moan so much as sob without tears, tensing up in Eddie's arms as bliss blooms. You pull your hand from your sopping cunt and feel your walls contract around nothing as you cum.

He pulls you close, throbbing cock pressing hard into your back. "Fuck," he hisses, hands placating where they lay. 

You go lax, head tipping back as you suck in air that had felt elusive moments ago. 

Eddie rubs your arms without saying anything. You cover his hands and try to summon up words. 

"Just as pretty as you look," he murmurs. 

He's so fuckng nice. So fucking nice, and what? He thinks about you when he jacks off? Since when? 

You sit up and drop your chin to your chest, panting still. 

"You okay?"

After a few seconds you smile and turn to him, intent on saying, Yes, thank you, and maybe something with more gratitude, something silly, just something. But you can't speak.

His face is close. 

Eddie brings a hand to the slope of your rising shoulder, follows a line to the curve of your neck. You look to his eyes and find him staring at your lips unabashedly. 

He pulls you into him. You close your eyes. 

Eddie Munson tastes like lots of things as he kisses you.

Cigarettes, unavoidable. Under that, sugar. Something sweet but heavy as bourbon vanilla. Your lips part and close in tandem with his, slow and hungry. Your heart races and your fingers are still wet as you twist in his arms and take his face into your hands. 

You climb up onto your knees and Eddie doesn't know what to do with you. 

He smiles so hard he has to pull away. Not smirking, smiling, a cheek-aching, too-happy smile that softens everything in your chest. 

You rub a shaking thumb over his cheek. You don't know if it's because of the post-orgasm rush of hormones or because he just kissed you and now he's smiling like he might do it again. 

He does. He kisses you and grabs your waist. His fingers mess with the hem of your shirt and he breaks the kiss short to say, "Take it off?" 

You sit back on your knees, feel the mess of wet between your legs spread as you grab at the edge of your shirt and pull it up. Eddie helps though he doesn't need to, and just like that you're shirtless. 

"Oh my god, I can't believe this is happening," he says, voice weak in what you suspect is one of his dramatics. 

He slides his hands up your sides and stops just below your breasts. His thumbs grace the undersides and his brow puckers. "Fuck," he mouths appreciatively. 

You flush head to toe. "Yours, too?" you ask gently. 

Eddie reaches back to pull off his shirt. His hair's in total disarray and he runs his hands through it, biceps flexing with the movement, torso taut. The black ink of his tattoos move with him and your eyes eat up every single one. 

He catches your eyes where they linger on the volley of bats. "You like that one?" 

"I've always liked that one." 

He grins and it's honey thick, hands at the small of your back and tugging. You spread your knees wide on impulse and find yourself flush to his chest, his arms locking you into place as he dives in for another kiss. Again you're surprised at how deeply he kisses you, how it ebbs and flows from slow to fast like he's both savouring and gorging himself on your closeness. 

You've never been kissed like this. You're weightless. You feel every contiguity between you, the hot and wet of his mouth, the crook of his elbow against the nape of your neck, your nipples peaked against his chest and the length of his dick pushing up into your aching cunt. 

"Fucking pretty," he says, pulling back just enough to kiss the corner of your mouth, your chin. He kisses your jaw over and over and over, lips pulling into crescents and then the same word. Pretty. 

His mouth opens wide at your throat, teeth scratching lightly as it closes. He sucks your skin between his lips and rolls it, hand spreading wide and palm flat at your shoulder blade. Steadying. . 

"That's cute," he says when he pulls away, lips shining. 

"What?" you ask, hand drifting up. You poke at the quick-forming contusion.

He nudges it aside with his face as he moves in to further mark up your neck. "You're so fucking pretty," he says, each word separated by a nipping kiss. 

His hands are everywhere.

Everything is warm and you can't breathe. You plant your hands at his shoulders and push away from him, and he stops you from falling flat on your back, levelling you with a worried glance. 

"Is it too much?" he asks. 

"No, I'm just hot. Really hot." You take a big breath and wipe your face with the back of both hands. 

"That's true," he says, leaning back against the wall. His hands fall to your thighs. "Are you okay?" 

You drop your hands abruptly and can't believe the fondness you're feeling. "You're pretty, too," you tell him. Honest if very shy; meek, entirely sincere. "I'm okay. I want…" 

"You want?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"I have this fantasy," you begin. 

Eddie widens your legs to move from under them. It doesn't surprise you when he comes to lie on your chest, holding his weight off of you with an arm at the side of your ribs. His hair falls and hides the room from view. All you can see is his face, and it's beautiful. 

"Tell me about it." 

"It's- okay. It's…" You drift off as he dips down to kiss your collar, only chaste pecks but enough to distract you. "It's kind of like this." 

"Yeah?" His breath warms your chest. More ditzy kisses.

"I get here and you're coming out of the shower-" 

"Tasteful." 

"With a towel low on your hips," you add pointedly. It's useless, his sarcasm has pinned you spot on. "And you- you touch me." 

Eddie kitten licks the skin he's just nibbled and looks up. "Like this?" 

"Like this." 

"And after that," his hand moves between you to the zipper of his jeans, the sound of metal clicking metal ringing through the room, "what do I do?" 

"You push me down into the bed, and-" You feel the fabric of his jeans rub your thighs as he pulls them down. "You…" 

"What do I do, sweetheart?" 

"You push my legs up and you fuck me," you confess.

He scrambles back towards his nightstand, a hand on your ankle that says, I'm not going far. "How do I fuck you? Am I rough?" 

"Not at first." 

There, in his hands, the red plastic of a condom wrapper, bright as a maraschino cherry. He holds it up and you nod. 

"Not at first," he murmurs, ripping open the condom, hissing as he pulls it over his weeping cock. It's big – not too thick, but big, surrounded by a thatch of dark curls trimmed neat. "But eventually?" 

He rolls it on tight and then there's nothing but this admission of your guiltiest fantasy. You spread your legs without thinking and he pulls you towards him, thumb collecting slick where it's pooled and pushing it up towards your entrance. What's left on his fingers he smears over the length of his shaft. You watch him rub at the head and sigh. 

"Eventually," you agree. 

His cock rubs up against you as he leans down and pinches your chin between his fingers, lips parted from a sharp gasp and opening further. "Can I fuck you? Is that what you want?" 

You nod voraciously. 

He gives you a very firm kiss at the highest point of your cheek. "In words." 

"Yes, you can fuck me. That's what I want," you say without hesitation. 

"You tell me if I do something you don't like," he says, lining up. 

"I will," you say earnestly. 

Eddie pushes your leg up towards your tummy and holds it there. "Good girl," he praises, and pushes in.

You're already worked open by his hand, your own hand and your climax, and still it's a snug fit. You cross your arm over your chest with your lips bitten hard to stop from making what you anticipate to be a very great and mortifying sound. He takes it slow, real slow, towering over you with his brows furrowed just slightly and his back arching. Every move he makes is accompanied by a careful thrust of his hips. He's rhythm in motion. 

"Fuck," he mutters, more than once. He's halfway when you feel that stretch, your pulpy walls accommodating him with little complaint and a lot of pleasure. 

You drop your head back against the bed sheets and hug yourself. 

Eddie reaches for your hand where its cracking your breast absentmindedly and squeezes your fingers. "How's that?" he asks. "How's that feel?" 

You close your eyes. "S'good, Eddie." You lay out your own roll of expletives as he pushes in ever deeper. "You're really- oh," you gasp, "really deep." 

"You should see it, babe, pretty pussy gripping my every fucking inch." He leans down and his cock fills another inch of you. Your fingers ache with how hard he's squeezing them, and you look up to find his eyes on yours. "I'm gonna fill you up, okay? You gonna be a good girl for me and take it?" 

You blink and your lashes feel heavy with tears. "Yeah. I can take it. I can take it." 

"I know," he says, hovering over you, close enough to hug if you wanted to. 

He grabs your side and his thumb pushes into the soft swell of your breast, his grip tightening as he fits those last inches of his cock inside you. You rub your cheek against his bedsheets, your head fuzzy from being so full. He takes your bared neck as an opportunity and ducks into the juncture of it and his face fits there like it was made to, his nose bobbing against the column of your throat as he starts to fuck into you. His hips roll, a mess of his sticky pubes kissing your clit. 

This close you can smell him, the heavy scents of pot and smoke, the sweet nutty smell of oil clinging to his hair. Sweat, as you imagine you smell of too, and sex. The room is filled with it, the smells and the sounds of his thighs thudding into yours. 

"Eddie- Eddie," you whimper, muffled by the sheets beneath you. 

He pushes in deep and rubs his nose into your skin emphatically. "What's wrong, hm? What's got you all wound up?" 

You wrap your arms around his back. You're not sure if you're allowed to but you're hardly thinking ahead – you can't. Every thrust, every movement he makes is at the forefront of your mind, commanding all of your attention. The tickling of his hair against the side of your face. The skipping of the chains of his necklace where it teases your neck. 

"Babe?" he asks, pulling back to turn your head. He stills inside you. 

You protest, loud and completely unlike yourself. "Eddie, don't stop. Please don't." Your hands push into his shoulder blades. He ruts in at your request, thumb rubbing your cheek. "Feels so good," you say. You trip over your praise, voice breaking. 

He starts up again, whispering, "Do you want me to hold your leg up, pretty girl?" and, "Taking me so well- taking it so fucking well," and, worse, "Fuck, sweetheart, just like that," when you tigthen around him. 

You weave your fingers into the messy crush of black curls surrounding his face, careful not to tug as you covet the back of his head and nape of his neck, scratching his scalp lightly with one hand as the other strokes his side. 

Your moans become a half-sobbing sort of mess, quiet and desperate, drawn out of you with every tap of his cock into your soft spot. When he finds it he can't not search for it, rutting into it over and over until you can't produce anything but an unintelligible stream of babble and happy sighs. 

He laps lazily at your neck, the stretch of skin dampened and stinging from love bites. He thrusts in hard and hits something sweet that has you clinging to him. 

"You smell good," he says into your skin.

Your hips ache with pleasure. "I must taste pretty good," you say. What, with how he's willing to nibble on you like this. 

He squeezes your neck and narrows his eyes at you playfully. "I intend to find out." He moves down until your lips are a hair's width from touching. "Bet you taste as sweet as everything else."

You lift your chin and kiss him, dedicating your affections to his top lip. He groans into your mouth, hips moving slow and thrusts shallow when suddenly they're not. His cock drags out slowly and slams in deep, his pelvis hitting into yours. 

You keen into the kiss, gentle and at odds with his fucking. His fingers find your ear and his thumb follows down the shell until he's pinching your earlobe, a split-second touch that melts you into putty. He pulls away from the kiss and inhales loudly, his fingers under your ear and pushing your face to the side so that he can wade in from a new angle.

You curl your fingers around his wrist and let yourself be kissed and fucked and touched. Anything he wants to do, he can do. 

Eddie breaks the kiss.

"What did I taste like?" you ask breathlessly. 

He traces an invisible teardrop down your cheek with the back of his pinky finger. "Oh, sweetheart," he says quietly, lowering his lips to the shell of your ear. "That's not where I meant." 

Another hard thrust. You gasp at the dull aching spreading through your tummy and Eddie softens slightly, not so deep but just as fast, faster, his cheek to your cheek as he works you open. His rugged panting in your ear is everything you need. You force your hand between your body and Eddie's and search for the wet mess of your clit, chasing quick circles into the swollen bump. 

Eddie realises what's happening and his fucking turns desperate. "You gonna cum again? Shit- keep touching, I'll get you there, fucking promise you." He's hardly pulling out an inch before he's rutting back in, kicking up the speed until all you can feel is pleasure again. 

Eddie slows down as you cum, moaning as you tighten around him. He pushes away from you to kneel between your legs again, eyes locking onto your cunt obstinately, his panting loud as he drags his cock in and out. 

"Insane," he mumbles, hands coasting down your legs until he's grasping the fat of your thighs and pulling you back onto his cock. "You're insane." 

As if proving it, his hands rove the hills and troughs of your torso, your skin clammy underhand, his hips moving mindlessly. You cover your mouth with the back of your hand and blink back into focus. 

"Are you close?" you ask him, whispering. 

You're lucky he can hear you with the music he's playing and the sounds of your slick hole being stretched. Eddie tucks a lock of sweat-dark hair behind his ear and his eyes pause in their reverential searching to meet yours. 

He peels your hand off of your mouth and holds it. 

"Fucking teetering, babe. Been close ever since I felt you wrapped around my fingers." He pulls your hand and you take it as a cue to try and sit up. Eddie helps you into his lap, your thighs straddling his thighs, slipping down his length until you're stuffed to bursting. 

You hide your face in his shoulder and he rubs your back. "You're okay," he says sympathetically, "I got you. You just sit pretty, there's a good girl." 

You wrap your arms around his neck and try your best to bounce on his cock as he thrust up into you, a steady pace that turns sloppy. You rake your hands through his curls and kiss at the curve of his neck down to the slope of his shoulder, dizzied and cock-drunk, totally fucked out. You hum into your kisses with every prodding of his mushroom tip against your deepest spot, rambling nonsense at him in a way you hope is making a difference. 

"Fucking me so good," you mumble, equal parts tearful and euphoric, lips wet and spreading a shine like frost in the sun over his lean shoulder. "So good, Eddie. Thought about this too much." 

"Yeah?" he asks, sounding like a different person. Voice rough as hewn stone and hands bruising where they grip you, his heavy sack slapping into you with every sluggish rock of his hips. "Good as you pictured? M'I fucking you like you wanted?" 

"Better," you say sincerely. 

"Fuck, sweetheart," he says, and he's close, you know he is.

You roll your pelvis in circles and try your hardest, aflame as you plead, "Cum for me, please? Please, Eddie, wanna feel it." 

Despite your shy intonation Eddie goes rigid. He fucks in with one final thrust that sends shocks deep to your core and spreading out, cutting your happy little gasp short as he pulls your head tight to his neck. His hips twitch underneath you and he's making sounds that are going to haunt you, whiney, begging moans over your head. 

Eddie's tight hold on you slowly loosens. You're breathing fast, finally out of motion. Your thighs burn where they're spread over his lap and you squirm unintentionally. 

He pulls your neck back from his shoulder and looks over your face, concern lining the soft set of his eyes. He cups your cheek in question. 

"I'm okay," you say softly. "I'm more than okay. That was amazing." 

"It was amazing," he agrees, caught off guard.

"Yeah." 

You shift backwards and the two of you wince at the sensitivity. You ease your legs open and Eddie pulls out, pumping the sticky shaft once. His eyes flutter closed. 

You move off of his lap and turn to the side so you can stretch out your aching legs. Eddie follows suit, collapsing off of his knees and onto his back, the pillow behind him keeping him propped up. 

You watch him ease the condom off of his cock curiously, White cum has smeared and drips down the length of him, his pubes tangled by a mixture of your slick and his. 

He spots you watching and smiles. "What, sweetness? What are you thinking about?"

"I made you cum." 

His eyebrows jump but quickly smooth. "I think I went blind, for a second." 

You giggle at his hyperbole and he pulls you down against his chest, your side pressing into his navel. Your cheek to the space shy of his heart. 

His hand comes to rest on your forehead. 

"Do you really think about me?" you ask, knowing the answer. 

"Every night." 

You close your eyes and hide your smile in his skin. He chuckles and wraps you up in one arm, his hand a firm pressure as he massage the dipped plane of your back. 

Nestling your cheek into his chest, you say, "I think about it, too. All the time." 

"Uh-huh. Maybe we can make some more of those racy thoughts a reality. What was that one about me coming out of the shower?" 

You like this casual conversation and decide to try and make him laugh, stretching your words out low. "Well, you're coming out of the shower, and your towel slips open-" There, his bumping laughter at your over the top salaciousness. 

"That's awful. Most cliche, overdone, cheap porno concept ever," he chastens. 

"I never said I was creative." 

"What happens after that?" 

"The towel gets swept away by a sudden gust of wind, so I have to cover you. With my body." 

He bursts. There's no other word to describe it, his back arches with the force of his laughter and he holds his fist to his mouth, shaking and giggling like an idiot. 

"Where's the wind coming from?" he questions incredulously. 

"I don't know! The window?" 

"Oh my god," he says. He hooks his hand under your arm and pulls you up his chest, dotting a fond kiss to your forehead as you near. "And after that?" 

"Well, I told you that part." 

"Right, we hook up, but after that." 

You clench your fists, insecure. "After?" 

He brings the hand that isn't loving the length of your back to your face, stroking the skin under your chin with the backs of his index and middle finger, the flat of his fingernails sliding gently in a soothing back and forth. 

"I guess it's kind of like this," you answer eventually. 

"Does fantasy Eddie get another kiss, too? Or does he- do they stop, afterwards?" 

"It's a fantasy. The kisses never stop," you tell him. Adrenaline must linger in your veins; you can barely speak.

His expression becomes impassive, and a lull in the conversation blossoms. He searches your face for something and you don't know what, but he must find it, because he dips down and kisses you chaste on the lips. 

Your hands are back to tentative as they explore his neck. Your fingertips grace the curves of his throat and then sink behind, into the dampened mess of his hair. 

He stays chaste, dainty kisses, pulling back to dot them against your lips over and over. 

"Eddie," you say softly, "what are you doing?" 

"It feels like kissing," he says, tone a mirror of your own. 

You huff a laugh against his lips and kiss back. 

Later, after more kisses than you could ever count and an hour dozing on his chest whilst his hand rubbed circles into your tired back, you get dressed into your clothes that he likes so much and slip your goodie bag into the belly of your strappy purse. 

"Don't go over the top with it, alright?" he says, watching the green bud dissappear.

Jeans back in place and still bare-chested, Eddie sits on the end of his bed and scratches the back of his neck. You give him a grateful smile. "No, I won't. I actually think I might sleep really well tonight without it." 

He smirks. "I bet you will." 

Eddie walks with you to the front porch. You'd linger if you didn't have to go, and you're pretty sure he'd let you. There's a fraction of awkward silence.

"See you later," you say, walking sideways down one step, another. 

Eddie catches your hand. It takes you a second to realise what he's done: forced your crumpled thirty dollars back into your hand. Your heart misses a beat and you feel your stomach plumet – you hadn't fucked him for the free pot. 

"Eddie-" 

"My girl can't pay for her own supply. That's not happening." 

You take one step up. "Your girl?" 

He has the good graces to look nervous. "If you wanna be." 

You don't know how to answer. He looks pretty like this in the last dregs of sunshine, big brown eyes waiting patiently for you to say something, hand clutching his elbow. It doesn't feel entirely real. 

You step on tip toes and work your hands behind his neck to kiss his cheek before rubbing your forehead against his chin. "I'll come by tomorrow?" you ask hopefully. He relaxes under your weight.

"Any time you want. I'll take you some place nice, if you're up for it." 

You set back on your heels and pull away. "You don't need to go all fancy on me, Munson." You're happy to get stoned and eat burgers on the couch.

He looks you up and down, eyes catching on the flanks of your thighs before he takes in your face. His smile is almost dorky when he says, "No I- I think I do. I'll see you tomorrow, pretty girl." 

You nod with an aching smile and are a little ways away when he smugly calls, "Sleep well!" 

After the lesson he just gave you, you're sure you will. 

𓆩❤︎𓆪

thank you for reading! | my masterlist

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isfj is someone with the introverted, observant, feeling, and judging personality traits. these people tend to be warm and unassuming in their own steady way. they’re efficient and responsible, giving careful attention to practical details in their daily lives.

「BNHA Boys as physical touch」

⤷ Bakugou

he “acts” like he doesn’t like being in your space to give you a little more privacy and freedom, but honestly he would die if you moved away from him on the couch. he likes it when you lay your head on his shoulder and link your arm with his, or just put your feet in his lap while you guys watch something on tv. he gently caresses your ankle as he tries to keep a sweet smile from appearing on his lips. he loves to hold your hand often enough, just to feel your softness—his thumb tracing circles on the back of your hand. he also likes to gently grab your chin to make you face him and look him in the eye, doesn’t say anything, just looks at you - he just likes to make butterflies appear in your stomach and, even denying, in his too.

⤷ Deku

he likes you to lay your head on his lap and vice versa; he really likes to play with your hair or even the seams of your clothes, and he loves it when you do the same with him. he likes it when you’re standing between his legs or beside him, his hand playing with your hair while his arms are around you. also doesn’t want to let you go when you hug. not when he feel like you should be in his arms forever; leaving soft, tender kisses everywhere he reaches, just to make you stay a little longer.

⤷ Kirishima

he loves small gestures as much as he loves big gestures like; leaning his knee on yours when you’re studying in the library or giving you big, warm hugs when you don’t see each other for a day, or just pulling your hair out of your face or pulling something out of your sweater, or also stroking your hair and arms when you lay your head on his lap; leaving kisses on your temple and smiling silly when he looks at you. he loves to feel you next to him and to feel your warm skin against his, it’s his favorite thing in the whole world.

⤷ Todoroki

he is always cuddled by your side; intertwining his arm with yours, leaning his head on yours as you lay your head on his shoulder. he also likes it when your legs are bent over his so he can draw things (usually hearts) on your skin. hold your hand anytime - on the couch, in the car, while napping, you name it. needs a quick kiss before either of you leaves the room, even if only for a few seconds. he loves to sleep on top of you and put his head on your chest; the feeling of your heart beating and your calm breathing makes him relax instantly and he wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.

⤷ Denki

he loves to put his arm around your shoulder or waist when you go out together and he always brags about you to his friends. he also loves pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist, leaving kisses on the back of your neck or shoulders, which always makes you smile nonstop as he doesn’t stop spreading kisses. he likes to give you piggy back rides when you’re tired or just in random moments where the two of you can’t stop smiling or laughing at each other, completely in love and lost in your own world.

⤷ Tamaki

he falls asleep in you often because you bring him so much peace and comfort; the two of you might be in the middle of a movie and suddenly you hear soft, shallow gasps from him as he’s resting his head on your lap. “babe, are you sleeping?” “no, just relaxing” – yes, he will be in a deep sleep in about 4 minutes. and when he falls asleep on you, he won’t let you go. he also likes to compare hand sizes or just caress you lovingly before leaving a kiss on the back of your hand or your palm. he lets you paint his nails to match yours - and he’d love it if you painted your initial on his ring finger.

⤷ Shinsou

always has a hand on your thigh when you are sitting next to each other or when he is driving; sometimes tapping your fingers lightly on the inside of your thigh in time with the music. he also loves to give you long, tight hugs that warm you up, but also take the breath away from you. likes to fix your clothes or hair if it’s a little messy - and he always has a smile on his face while doing it. soft touches, always; even if it’s a squeeze on your thigh, he’s very gentle. likes to massage your shoulders, legs and feet when you come home tired; he listens intently to what you have to say while his hands work so you can rest and feel calm. he also loves taking baths with you; intimate and genuine moments where he can touch you and help you at the same time.

⤷ Hawks

he loves to spread kisses all over your skin; especially your cheeks, neck and belly. it’s through small and affectionate kisses that he shows all his love and admiration for you and if you feel insecure in any part of your body, you can bet he will be kissing you all over and telling you everything he loves about that part of your body and how much he think it’s beautiful the way it is. he also likes to be holding hands or playing with your fingers. likes to hug you and smell your hair because your hair products smell so good - likes to help you wash and style your hair too. he applies lotion to your legs after a shower and even does skincare with you, where he takes all the care in the world to rub the products on your face and steal a few kisses here and there.

⤷ Dabi

the way he shows love through physical touch can be a little limited at times, but they never fail to give you butterflies in your stomach. he likes to put an arm around your shoulder, put his hand behind your back and guide you, and pull you by the waist when he wants to kiss you or when he wants you to look him in the eye. he also likes to caress your cheek and give you soft kisses on the lips when you are lying down and ready to sleep. you don’t know, but in the morning he likes to caress your face and hair while pulling you to him, just so you can sleep better.

⤷ Shigaraki

he’s afraid of physical touch due to his quirk, but after wearing the gloves for the first time, he realizes he’s found a way to show his love for you through touch as well. he likes to give you tight hugs where he kisses the top of your head and closes your eyes; feeling your scent and warmth while getting lost in the moment. he also likes to play with your hands from time to time or just lie on your lap, lightly caressing your thigh. at night, he pulls you to sleep on him; he loves that contact and that peace you bring him and he would do anything in the world just to have that for the rest of his life.

https://www.instagram.com/p/Crn1nMFhq-0/

Howl’s Moving Castle (2004)

Rintaro Suna exercises his wrists every day to keep strong and hard hands capable of blocking any ball on the court. Fingers also have an important weight in blocking performance, and to exercise them he just needs your pretty wet pussy and a couple of pleas to make his long fingers move faster inside you.

No one would know his secret.

「Making out with BNHA Boys」

tw; suggestive content !

⤷ Bakugou he likes it when you sit on the nearest surface with your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer to you. one of his hands on the side of your face/neck so he can hold you in place while kissing you like it’s the first and last time; your forgotten spotify playlist playing in the background. his body is so big and hot against you as his strong arm wraps around you and closes all the little distance between you; he loves to suck and bite your bottom lip when you least expect it, and if you make the slightest moan, he’ll laugh and call you needy. he also likes to pull away a little too often just so you can chase his lips; he loves to see that you need and want him just the same way he needs and wants you. he teasingly asks if you want to move into the bedroom and, before you can even answer, he picks you up and carries you there, leaving teasing kisses every now and then on your lips.

⤷ Deku there is a smooth pattern of raindrops on the window; the netflix movie you’re trying to get him to watch with you is now neglected as it only serves as background noise for the sounds of your lips moving in unison and he just sighs in contentment because even though he doesn’t say it, he loves it when your lip gloss is smudged all over his lips; it tastes like you. his hands sliding lightly down your back as he leans you down to lie on the sofa; he settles between your legs and holds your thigh tightly with one hand as you wrap your legs around his waist; he can’t help but moan against your mouth as he rolls his hips against yours.

⤷ Kirishima

one minute, he’s sitting on your hip while tickling you; but what was supposed to be a harmless banter quickly turned into an anxious and desperate makeout session. he lies on you, holding both your wrists with one hand above your head; the other hand holds the side of your face or neck while he is lost in your lips; he whispers sweet and soft breathy things and “i love you” between kisses or while he bites your neck. he warns you about leaving marks on him when you take his shirt off and kiss/bites his shoulder or his neck; but his gaze silently challenges you to do so.

⤷ Todoroki

in the back seat of his car after a date; the city at night under dazzling, bright lights that even so far away, still light up your face with soft colors of blue and white. his lips are so soft and warm when you kiss them, it’s slow and sweet at first, smiling against each other’s lips; the faint scent of his cologne on his sweatshirt makes your head dizzy and needy for him; you running your hands through his hair and pulling the ends a little makes him shiver and hold your face with one hand while the other pulls you into his lap. he groans when you roll your hips against his; blood pouring from his cheeks to awaken other more sensitive parts of his body. swallowing hard, trying desperately to silence the noises he wants to make when you continue, he starts sucking on that sensitive part just below your ear. he wants you so, so much.

⤷ Denki

watching movies under big blankets at 3am; what started with light kisses all over your face, turns into you and denki curled up in each other’s arms, hugging and kissing until you get dizzy. he eventually rolls you onto your back, your lips chasing his; you whimper and tense up when he bites your lip and makes his way to your neck, kissing and teasing you. he can’t help but shiver and whisper some curses against your neck when you run your nails down his back; he leans in to kiss you, but even more passionate and deeper, which makes you accidentally push your hips into his, making you both moan; but he quickly kisses you again, holding your waist so you don't pull away from him.

⤷ Tamaki

happens on your couch; he loves the feel of your hands on him - in his hair, on his chest, on his shoulders but he mostly loves it when you put your hands on his neck, gently pulling his hair; he makes the softest noises when you slide your tongue into his mouth. it’s times like this that he expresses his warm feelings for you in the form of gentle kisses and squeezes. he loves to call you cute nicknames between kisses because your reaction always makes his heart race even more. he smiles as you kiss his neck and shivers against you as you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer to you.

⤷ Shinsou

he likes it when it happens in his bed; slow, lazy but passionate kisses; limbs entwined, unhurried as you take your time exploring each other. you two are topless with messy hair after he stroked your hair and vice versa; he rubs soft patterns on your bare skin, kissing them tenderly, which sends shivers down your spine. every touch is so sensual, so deliberate, so unique; breathlessly whispering “i love you” between kisses. he’s letting you set the pace and your own timing because he wants you to feel as good as you make him feel.

⤷ Hawks

everything happens so fast; one of you lost a game of uno and owes the other a kiss. what was supposed to be just a soft, tender kiss turned into a hot and anxious makeout session on the floor. you are incapable of getting tired of each other; even with your lips and bodies pressed together, the need to get closer is almost desperate. but you know him; he’ll pretend he doesn’t want to kiss you anymore by pulling away, just for you to pull him back and kiss him harder. he smiles mid-kiss before spreading wet kisses down the side of your neck. and you will feel him weak against you as he moans or whimpers if you return the favor and pull his hair; his hands roam all the places they can reach until he finds where he really wants.

⤷ Dabi

he loves to put you on his lap; his vinyl records play on the background as his hands slide under your shirt. he loves to nibble on your ear and neck; his hot breath makes you shiver and arch in his lap as he whispers dirty things just to annoy you. you moan into his mouth as he teases you; nibbling your lips and kissing you until you’re out of breath and before you can kiss him again, he lifts your chin with his fingers so he can kiss your neck while his hands slide down your back and squeeze your waist.

⤷ Shigaraki

he loves to put you against the wall; wet, sloppy kisses but at the same time it’s so intense they make you both moan against each other’s mouths; it’s kind of rough, but extremely passionate. he loves to put his hand in your hair and, without you waiting, pulls it a little so he can kiss your neck; sucks up multiple bruises on your delicate skin and collarbone. he grunts and bites his lip when you pull his hair and kiss his jaw; he feels completely melted when you do this. he places one hand on the wall beside you as you make your way to his neck but with his other hand firmly on your waist. just when you think you’re in control, he wraps his hand carefully around your throat, eyes shining with lust and challenge as if he asks what you think you’re doing.

… No words to describe this epic post.

XD

“ dating hcs ” [ hawks ]

→ summary: the mandatory, cliche what dating keigo takami would include hcs

→ pairing: hawks x gn!reader

→ word count: 2,001... oh my god i am very sorry.

→ warnings: gn!reader, reader's picked up at least once, nothing much- just a bunch of fluff, mentions of food and eating, reader's picked up, mentions of necklaces ??. i've been working on these for so long T-T pls be nice i'll cry. also @call-me-ko ily

• Keigo is a caretaker by nature, an innate little part of his brain screaming to look after you. Giving you attention and pouring all his extra time and energy into you gives him an outlet. He's always considering you, paying attention to you and notices every minuscule expression.

• He trusts you to a fault. Trusts you with his life. There's nothing he has that he wouldn't give you, that he wouldn't entrust in you. He refuses to keep unnecessary secrets, everything and anything is shared between you. Hates feeling like he'll make you feel like he doesn't trust you and wants you to be able to rely on him for anything.

• He's insanely protective of you, circling back to his need to look after you, even though he knows you can handle yourself. No matter if you're a fellow hero, a sidekick, or a civilian- he is always going to worry about you. Keigo always makes sure to leave at least one feather with you at all times, stashing it away in a coat or bag you carry often. He is also very prepared to drop patrol at even the slightest inkling of you being in danger.

• Keigo makes sure to send you a minimum of twenty texts a day and calls you at least twice, when he's leaving in the morning and when he's on his way home. They're never too involved, pictures of pretty leaves or flowers he sees throughout the day and make him think of you or his melodramatic anguish over the weather whenever it rains. Send you little reviews of the lunch you'd made for him, always glowing even if you're an average cook.

• He's also one of the nosiest people you know. Loves to hear any and all gossip you have, even if he has no idea who it's about. He just likes talking about people. Whenever you're on the phone with a friend and he knows that you’re complaining about someone, he presses himself against your side and listens in. He does it so often you've just started to have them on speakerphone. He likes hearing about less complicated problems and is an oddly amazing problem solver when it comes to petty issues.

• Keigo is completely shameless with affection and encourages you to be the same. If the urge to wrap himself over your shoulders or kiss you overtakes- he's acting on it. If you seem flustered he'll just curve his wings over you.

• He constantly has some sort of touch on you, your hand in his, playing with the rings on your fingers, or you tucked under an arm no matter where you are. Anytime you are sat down or laying down, he's draped over you with your hands in his hair. He'll also decide when you're standing beside each other to just drop all his body weight onto you and lean against you with his chin hooked in your shoulder. Loves to do it when he's bored at an event or you're cooking dinner, he likes to have all your attention on him.

• His favourite forms of affection are the ones that you don't expect. He'll hook a finger under your chin so he can sneak a kiss on your cheek or wrap his arms around you when you're in the middle of something else. If he ever finds out your ticklish anywhere, he will take advantage of that in the worst times.

• Keigo insists on sharing food. It doesn't matter if it's a full meal or piece of chocolate- he wants to split it. If you ever offer for him to taste something you're eating or drinking he always bites from the same spot and wants to eat off the same utensils.

• He's a hopeless romantic at heart, spent too many movie nights watching cheesy rom-coms, and gets overwhelming urges to shower you in any affections he can think of. He sends roses to you for a week straight for no reason and leaves small gifts all over the apartment for you to find. Keigo will come home some days and start waxing poetic and kissing the back of your hand.

• Goes beyond and above for any birthdays or anniversaries. Plans elaborate picnics on a rooftop, always with the best view of the sunsets, and builds your bouquets. He always manages to know the exact kind of gift you'd want.

• Loves having you wedged between his legs with your back to his chest while you watch movies. Wraps arms around your waist and drapes his wings over you. Always hooks his chin over your shoulder so he can nose at your jaw and neck.

• Keigo loves skin-ship so much and will take every opportunity to get it. He values any skin on skin contact he can get from you, nosing into your neck or letting you run your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp. He refuses to fall asleep if he can have his hands on your stomach under your skirt and his face in the crook of your neck.

• Keigo looks after you physically, too- preens you. He'll always fix stray hairs your correct anything that went awry on your clothing. He doesn't even notice he does it, hands moving on their own to straighten your necklaces or turn your rings. He keeps your hair ties on his wrist so he can put your hair up.

• He's always used his wings as an extension of him and when it comes to you- it's no different. Whenever you're cold, he tucks you into the crook of a wing and pushes you against his side or he'll press his chest to your back and tuck both wings over you. When it gets hot outside he'll lift one over your head to keep you out of the sun or to keep you dry when it rains, you always feel bad after it rains so you preen them for him. He uses them to keep you from the paparazzi too, using them to envelop you and hide you from the situation- especially if they make you anxious or uncomfortable.

• He's a menace when he sees you out while he's on patrol. You could be grocery shopping or coming back from lunch with your friends but the moment he sees you, he has his arms hooked under your knees and arms. Always comes from behind and laughs when you shriek and cling onto his lapels.

• Also anytime he sees you walking around and he decides not to pick you up or you spot him first, he refuses to let you be. Follows you around, hovering a foot above you, and talks the entire block. No amount of telling him "he has work to do" will get him to leave. Claims he's just "doing his duty- ensuring the safety of a civilian." He's not.

• Keigo loves to sweep you off your feet. He'll find the worst times possible to sweep your legs with a wing so he can catch you in his arms. Princess carries you for twenty minutes afterwards, boasting about being your hero.

• Thrives off your praise. He's having his best day whenever you're admiring him or complimenting the smallest little details about him. Takes advantage of the days after shoots or he exhaustively preens his feathers- spreading their entire wingspan so they catch the light or wearing tighter shirts and purposely flexing when reaching over you.

• He loves giving you gifts so much. Not just expensive stuff- though he definitely does that too. He'll see something when out that makes him think of you, how pretty you'd look in it, and gets it without thinking. Jewellery is probably the most common expense gift he gets, mostly because he likes clasping necklaces onto you and letting his fingers trace the back of your neck. 

• Adores flight dates- and not just the impromptu ones- but softer ones. Always knows when the sky will look its prettiest and which buildings give the best views. Bundles you up in a scarf and jacket, though he does tend to under prepare you for the cold so you can nestle into him, and tucks you into his arms. He knows the skies over your apartment like the back of his hand. Could probably navigate it with his eyes closed, which with how much he spends staring at your awed and sunkissed face he does.

• Keigo despises working nights because night shifts mean he has to leave you alone. He hates feeling like he's neglecting you, which he KNOWS you don't think he is and tries his best to avoid them. When he doesn't have a choice, he'll spam you with texts and calls- talks you to sleep. Away missions are the worst, though, he's barely able to fall asleep without your heartbeat under his ear and hands in his hair. He just loves you and being without you feels like he's lost a limb.

• Uses hugs to recharge every night, even more so after he's been away, pulls you flush against him and tucks his face into your neck. His fingers digging into your back and wings crushing you to him. Rubs his nose back and forth on your neck and presses your foreheads together. He spends so much of his day worried about not being able to come back to you that having you in front of him is the only way to calm down.

• Keigo is an incredibly loyal person, destructively so, and he loves SO hard. So much about his life is stressful that having you to come back to, someone to be calm and soft with, matters more than anything. Having someone to love and support him unconditionally for the first time.

‧₊˚✩ taglist + masterlist ✩˚₊‧

🏷: @izukus-gf , @dinodumbass , @tipsyangels , @uwuthatshit , @akaakeijii , @hirugummies

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