cozymaples

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i’m ovulating……..expect content

#maple speaks

[cozymaples]

ryan (thanksgiving) who lets you play whatever music you want in his car, but will pretend he isn't singing along when you catch him knowing every word to "cruel summer"

ryan who drives you to the mall and buys you anything you want with his daddy's credit card, watches you try on dresses and wolf-whistles when you try them on for him

ryan who gets into a bar fight when a random man asks for your number, and he wins said fight, sporting a black-eye, a bloody lip, and the sexiest grin

ryan who pays for your nails, hair, etc. and always gasses you up when you show him how pretty you look all dolled-up

ryan who marks you up with hickeys, is constantly holding you close in public, kissing you and grabbing your ass and calling you his girl

you're welcome xoxo gossip girl

ykw…….

#phelia💌 #ryan thanksgiving!

[cozymaples]

A necessary reminder!!

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MDNI: smut!

old money! steve harrington believes in classic chivalry. he’s going to open the car door for you, pull out your chair, kiss your knuckles when you give him your hand.

he loves to be a gentleman. loves how you smile all shy when you get treated right — like the princess you are, he says — how you thank him so quietly, behind your hand, when he gives you a bouquet of flowers so fresh you can still see the sap from their stems; smell the meadow from which they came from. they’re wrapped in a silk ribbon that matches the one in your hair, the colour of his tie.

he’s going to unclasp your heels for you after a long event. massage your feet for you, too. then he’ll kiss up your leg, push your panties to the side, fuck your cunt with tongue; make you cum on it — at least twice. and he’s going to want you the entire time, dick straining against his dress pants, but he wants to take his time with you. take care of you, show you how special you are.

when he’s done showering your clit with kisses, sucking on it like a man starved; when’s finished giving you his fingers until you’re crying and begging for his dick, he’s going to praise you for being so good. being so patient. then he’ll take out his cock. and it’ll spring free, ruddy head leaking with precum. sparkling with it, even. you’ll bite your lip because he’s so big, how will he even fit? but he says he’s going to take care of you. he’ll kiss along your brow, your lips, clasp your hands together. then he’s stretching your pussy open with his fingers, sliding into your lewd wetness, stretching you open, rolling his hips into you nice and slow.

he’ll fuck you deep, but never rough, never bruising. and when he spills out into you, hot and sticky, he’ll tell you how much he loves you. “you’re so perfect honey,” he’ll say, “so good for me. look at how fast you made me finish.”

afterwards he’ll eat his cum out of you while you tug on his hair. run you a luxurious bath. read to you while you soak; then carry you to bed and let you fall asleep against his chest.

#ok goodnight #fic recs

[cozymaples]

pookiebear! for @phefics

#steve harrington moodboard #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader imagine #steve harrington x reader fluff #maples moodboards! #steve harrington fluff

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Cowboy Steve defending you from some loser trying to hit on you in the saloon and then fucking the shot out of you to prove you’re his later <3

reader with a vagina; MEAN mean cowboy!steve

he absolutely gets into a bar fight. and before you can properly lose your mind on him, telling him that you aren’t some kind of damsel, you find yourself on his bed.

“let me guess,” he starts, keeping your hands behind your back in one hand while the other pushes his pants down. “you came here to tell me you don’t appreciate what i do for you.”

“i can take care of myself!”

your skirts are flipped up. steve’s hand comes down on your ass, making you jerk and gasp. “did he do it for you? did you like him?” he continues. “would you’ve let him take you home?”

“of course not,” you breathe.

“then tell me why you’re so aroused.” to emphasize, he runs the tip of is cock up your folds wetly.

you’re a little lost for words. “i - i don’t -“

“did it turn you on? watchin’ two guys fight over you?”

“jesus, steve, of - of course it didn’t!”

“okay. so you woulda went home with him.”

you shake your head, opening your mouth to reply but moaning instead. your brain short circuits when his cock presses against your entrance.

steve’s fingers grip your hair and he pulls your head back, just slightly, not enough to hurt. enough to make you listen. “tell me the truth, peach, or you aren’t gettin’ it.”

it’s all you can think of right now. the tip of him stretches only your hole, and you want to feel it deeper. your fingers flex behind you in his grip. “i like it when you fight for me,” you admit.

“oh, that right?” and he pulls his cock away for just a moment - let’s the head of it kiss your clit before he pushes in swiftly.

“steve!” you cry, arching your back. all of the air feels punched out of you.

“let me make sure no one else even thinks about fuckin’ you, darlin’. not after i’ve had you.”

#alright gn #stevenose #bye everyone #fic recs #cowboy!steve

[cozymaples]

I MISS YOU GUYS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i have stevie things in the works.........dropping tn!!!!!!!!! send me any thoughts!

#maple speaks!

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spotfiy daylist tag game!

rules: go to spotify, search for your daylist, and share the unhinged title of the playlist and 5 songs from the playlist // THANK U FOR THE TAG BABYLOVE MWWWAH @phefics

i. feather-sabrina carpenter

ii. now that we don’t talk (taylor’s version)-taylor swift

iii. all-american bitch-olivia rodrigo

iv. one of your girls-troye sivan

v. margaret-lana del rey

tagging: @plainemmanem , @stevenose , @t4tschmidt 💕💗💖💞💓🌸💐

#tag games #maple speaks! #phelia💌

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Steve’s way of calming down from an anxiety attack when you’re asleep and he needs you (because that selfless man won’t wake up you, even if you’ve demanded he do so if he needs anything), is to push up your sleep shirt and rest his cheek over the swell of your breasts. There’s times when he’s content to settle, but others he likes to have wandering fingertips that give barely there grazes just beneath your boobs, his fingernail scratching your areola until your nipples perk beneath the warm stimulation. Then he can’t really resist what his mouth decides to do, now can he?

He’ll use that strength in his lower torso, his sleep plants rucking up as he finds his way to being completely over your slumbering form, tongue slicking along his mouth, saliva pressing in the corners. Every breath you take puts your chest on display, and leaves Steve to feel as if all of his previous head trauma has caused amnesia, because holy fuck — seeing your pretty tits becomes a brand new experience each time it happens.

“So, so fucking pretty, honey. Can I have them?” He’ll whisper in the dark, his panic subsiding as he gives into impending focus of a new mission.

You might mewl a bit, shift or wiggle. But you’re always pliant, receptive to him. His chain will sway forward when he lifts to bend into a lean, and your nose crinkles him into a soft set, trademark grin, because he knows that it tickles you, a comment he’s heard (without complaints) when you’re also awake.

One of Steve’s favorite anchors that resides in the home of your body, is when he’s kissing your breasts, jostling them in his hand, squeezing. Those full lips finding a nipple to attach to, tongue licking lazily until you’re shining with his spit. He blows lightly on his work after, and if he’s lucky (regardless, he knows he is) — he’ll get that particular noise from you that makes his cock kick up.

He’s having his own private heart to heart, and you trust him enough to give yourself over, no matter what.

There’s nights that you’ll awaken (some of his most favorite, ones that will redden him from the chest up at just the mere memory), so gone from your dozing and dazed desperation, that your voice will lower several octaves, checking on him first and foremost, then give way to a high pitched whispering plea for him.

“Shh, shh.” Calmed enough to practically coo at you, his massive palm will cup your cheek as he relaxes into his full weight settling atop you, his nipples dragging against your own, chest hair tickling goosebumps to life along your already overly-sensitive flesh.

“I know I’ve got you worked up, honey. M’ gonna take care of you too, alright?”

You struggle to rid yourself of blurry vision, that raw need that crackles your chest with a burning ache, a singeing to your tongue to taste it, to take what’s yours. Because he’s there for you and you’re there for him.

Your panties are in many different positions; halfway off and around your knees, the delicious attempt to try and fit him inside that way, to the side with transparent impatience, or flung to the wayside (a shared top pick) so your legs can fall completely apart to rest or be maneuvered into position.

“Steve…” You’re crying, as if he’s a dream that’s never meant to be yours. And it’s pathetic how empty you feel until he’s got himself in his palm, guiding himself to lay heavy against your inner thigh, because he needs to kiss you before he goes insane and inside — always.

When it’s over, you let him stay inside until he’s fast asleep and his face is in your tits — home.

#oh jesus christ #fic recs

[cozymaples]

give milo manheim more bitchy boyfriend roles

#i manifested him in a horror movie i can manifest again #maple speaks

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u know what. it's what you deserve.

taking a break from writing ur commissions to say. i want to crawl into bed with steve. and bury my face. in his crotch. thanks

#stevenose #i wish everyone a very this

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just let my partner out of my house while i was wrapped in a bedsheet, forgetting that we have a front door camera that my dad and sister constantly check....i hate it here

#OHHHHHH

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𝐢 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: george o'malley x reader 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you're george's best friend. after a night of drinking, you two hook-up, then try to pretend it never happened. prompted by @grimeslovebot!! 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: fem!reader, surgery intern!reader, george isn't married/a cheater, drunk sex, unprotected sex, sort of angsty/cliffhanger ending, pt 2 coming soon 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: ~1.7k

It had been a hard, long week at Seattle Grace Hospital. You had spent most of it in the clinic, which wasn’t very exciting, but it had put you on Bailey’s good side, which was always a good thing.

George, on the other hand, had been given a chance to scrub in on an incredible surgery and the patient, unfortunately, hadn’t made it. It had upset him, losing someone so young, and he had been sulking around the halls the past few days.

“Why don’t we do something fun tonight?” you suggested, sensing that his mood wasn’t going to get better without a gentle nudge. Like all the other surgery interns, the job often took a toll on him, and only another intern was capable of understanding their pain.

“Like what?” he asked, not looking up from the chart he was reading.

“I don’t know…Go to the bar with the other interns?“ you suggested.

George looked up at you with a fond look on his face. “You mean, like we do all the time?”

“I’m just brainstorming!” you defended, but you couldn’t help smiling.

You and George had immediately gotten along at the beginning of your internship, and had been inseparable friends ever since. All it took was a certain expression on his face, or a specific tone of voice for you to know exactly what he was thinking. You were smiling, because you knew that fond look on his face meant, ‘I know you’re trying to cheer me up, and going to a bar with Karev is not the right approach.’

So, you tried again. “Or we could go back to the house, watch a movie, have some drinks and snacks? I think Meredith is on call tonight, anyway, so the house will be quieter than usual.”

He notated something on the chart, giving you a nod. “Sure, that sounds nice. Uh, I have to go run some labs, but I’ll see you at lunch?”

“See you!”

It was a few hours later when George put his tray down next to yours on the cafeteria table, flopping down into his seat with a sigh.

“Drinks tonight is just what I need,” he said.

You gave him a sympathetic smile, patting his arm. “I’ll stop by the liquor store after my shift.”

“You’re the best,” George said, and his tone was so sincere, combined with that fond look in his big, brown eyes, it made your face flush.

The moment was ruined when Meredith came to the table, practically slamming her food down as she began to rant about her drama with McDreamy, and you were grateful for the distraction.

George was your best friend. Surely you weren’t interested in him…like that. George O’Malley, who was shy and awkward, who was into all his nerdy shit, who made you laugh more than anyone else, who knew you better than anyone…

Well, shit. That wasn’t a great revelation to have in the middle of your work day. You were falling for your best friend.

Meredith’s voice faded to the background as you processed it. Relationships within the hospital always seemed to get messy. You were co-workers, roommates, friends. If it went wrong, it would ruin so much. But if it went well...God, if it went well, it would be so perfect.

"Earth to Y/N?" George said, his fingers waving in front of your face.

You startled from your thoughts. "What?"

"Your pager is going off. Didn't you hear it?"

"Shit," you muttered, grabbing for your pager as you rose to your feet, already preparing to sprint.

"See you later!" George called after you as you ran from the cafeteria.

Later that evening, you changed out of your scrubs in the locker room before heading out of the hospital, stopping at the liquor store and picking up a few bottles of assorted drinks, making sure to grab George's favorite, as well as stopping at a gas station for snacks.

By the time you made it back to the house, your arms full of bags, George was there to help you bring the bags inside.

You picked a film while George mixed some drinks, curling up beside each other on the couch.

"Cheers to surviving another week," he said.

You smiled and clinked your glass with his.

The film you chose was supposed to be sci-fi, but there was an unnecessary romance plot thrown in, and the drunker you got, the more frustrated you became.

"If the world was fucking ending, I would be less concerned with getting laid," you quipped, rolling your eyes at the television.

George was also pretty tipsy by that point, and he laughed. "I think it's sweet. I mean, he's clearly been in love with her for a while. If you thought you weren't going to live much longer, wouldn't you want to seize the opportunity?"

You hummed, considering it. “But what if the world doesn’t end? And now you’ve just made things awkward.”

“Or you’ve made things better,” George said. He had a giddy smile on his face, like he was genuinely daydreaming about the concept.

“You thinking about someone specific?” you teased, nudging him in the ribs playfully.

“Shut up,” he replied, his cheeks flushed, not just due to the alcohol.

You broke into a grin, his lie obvious. "Oh, you are! Tell me, tell me," you chanted, words slurred slightly as you nudged him repeatedly, even sneaking your hands out to tickle his side.

He yelped, batting uselessly at your hands. "No! There's nothing to tell!" he insisted, but his giggling didn't make the words sound very convincing.

Somehow, you ended up halfway in his lap, still poking and prodding at him and demanding to know his little secret, too tipsy to care about the close proximity, or about the fact that his answer might not be who you wanted it to be.

Thankfully, his answer was just what you wanted, and it didn't even come verbally. In a last ditch effort to get you to stop assailing him, George had grabbed your face and pulled you in for a clumsy kiss.

The movie wasn't even half-finished, but it was totally forgotten as you and George got to your feet, stumbling through the house and towards his bedroom, each moment where your lips weren't pressed together spent giggling.

There were no words necessary, your mouths too occupied with kissing to bother. George had already grown hard in his pajama pants, the imprint of his well-sized cock clearly visible through the plaid fabric.

You laid down on his bed, fingers fumbling to remove your top, and George pulled his own shirt over his head with a big of a struggle, the heat of the moment combined with the liquor making every movement desperate and uncoordinated.

It wasn't long until you both completely naked, tangled in his bed sheets. He held your face with so much care, thumb stroking your jaw as he kissed you.

"Youhave no idea how long I've wanted this," he breathed, lining his cock up with your entrance. "Since the ice breaker before our internship, I swear..."

"Me too," you replied. "Didn't even realize how bad I needed you, but it's always been there."

You two both moaned as he entered you, your fingernails digging into his back. It felt so good, the stretch of his cock filling you. It was a blessing that no one else was home to hear the way the bed creaked, the way you gasped and how he groaned.

As he fucked you, George used his thumb to rub circles on your clit, bringing you close to orgasm as he approached his own.

"Fuck," you breathed. "I'm gonna—"

"Me too," he said.

It didn't long for you to both be finished, laying spent on his flannel bedsheets. From the alcohol and the rush of adrenaline, you both fell asleep like that, naked and cuddled together.

***

When you awoke the next morning, you immediately felt the headache before your eyes had even opened. Weren't you too old, too mature to be getting hungover like this? And you were on-call today, which was just the cherry on top.

Or, so you thought. The real cherry on top was when you opened your eyes and say none other than your best friend, George O'Malley, laying next to you.

Fuck, you thought. Fuck, fuck, fuck!

You jumped out of the bed, and your head pounded in protest. You ignored it, too occupied with the fact that you were naked, your clothes strewn about George's bedroom floor. You gathered them up hastily and snuck out of his room, dashing into your own.

You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm down. Maybe George wouldn't remember! Maybe you could just move on, pretending that it had never happened.

It was wishful thinking, though. Once you had showered, gotten ready for work, and eaten some semblance of breakfast, George emerged from his bedroom, still shirtless, and nearly bumped right into you in the hallway.

"Morning," he said, sounding exhausted. "What the hell did we drink last night?"

"Don't remember," you replied. "I gotta go. See you later!"

You weren't being very subtle. Izzie, Meredith, and Cristina kept questioning why you were acting jumpy, flustered, and hungover.

"Did you go on a date?" Izzie asked.

Meredith chimed in. "Was it someone here?"

"Oh, don't tell me you're screwing an attending, too," Cristina said.

"I just didn't get much sleep," you replied.

Thankfully, your pager beeped and gave you an excuse to leave. You went to the room you were summoned to, expecting to find a patient in need or an attending who wanted you to scrub in.

Instead, you found an empty room with none other than George O'Malley standing in it.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," you replied, fighting the urge to run right back out of the room.

"So, when I was getting dressed this morning, I noticed the, um...Well, the scratches on my back. I just want to make sure...It was you, right? Like, I didn't do something totally stupid?"

"It was me," you said. "And who says it wasn't stupid? We...We're friends, George, we shouldn't...I mean, I don't want to lose that."

George's face fell slightly, and you focused your gaze on the floor to ignore it.

"Of course," he replied. "Yeah, no, you're right. We were drunk, anyway. It didn't...It didn't have to mean anything."

"Cool. Well, uh...I'll see you later."

You rushed out of the room, refusing to look back at him.

(there will be a part two, don't worry!!)

#Y'ALL BETTER READ THIS #i don't watch it either but be supportive #or dee eye ee from my sword #fic recs #phelia💌

[cozymaples]

and if i start writing for eddie munson...........

#need that tbh #lmk

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some people think that e-rated fanfiction is written with the author in a constant state of arousal, but those people are vastly overestimating the erotic appeal of consulting a thesaurus every few sentences to find another synonym for "thrust"

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i'm writing a fuckton for rafe cameron rn...........i need to hear y'all thoughts before i publish.

#tell me #be horny #be free