I always like to hope your little drabbles might be inspired by your sweetie podcast guy 👀
Oh they kinda are inspired by him these days 👀
One for the Road
Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, a whole lot of oral (f receiving)
“I like this shirt,” Eddie mumbles against your jaw, his fingers playing at the hem of your massive thrifted t shirt. You’re standing in the dappled morning sunlight warming his shitty little apartment kitchen. His hands roam your body with an urgency that belies the way he’d fucked you onto his messy sheets just thirty minutes prior.
“The day I got it I also got a Hellraiser t shirt. Huge. With a big picture of Pinhead on the chest,” you say proudly, smoothing a hand over said chest to indicate where the horror icon’s face would be. Eddie hones in on that one detail, of course, and cups your breasts through your shirt with a groan.
“Oh yeah? If it was that big did you cut the shirt up?”
You shake your head.
“No. I left it big and oversized. You know. Sexy,” you joke. Eddie nods slowly, still focusing all his attention on your tits through this particular shirt.
“Sexy. Oh yeah,” he mutters, completely distracted. He lifts the shirt slightly to reveal the feminine pair of boxers you’ve put on for your drive home. “These are fucking cute.”
“You think?” you ask, wiggling your hips cheekily.
“Yeah, I think,” mumbles against your neck before sucking on your earlobe. You go to say something else but his hand is now sliding under the waistband of your boxers. Within seconds he’s inside your panties and playing with the slick that’s gathered there.
“Eddieeee, I have to go,” you try to argue, but it turns into a gasping whine. Eddie ignores you. Or at least, he ignores your argument. He latches onto one of your nipples through your shirt and looks up at you pointedly to watch your face while he slides two fingers deep inside you. “Oh fuck…”
You don’t know how it happens. You really don’t. One minute you’d had your bag on your shoulder and you were half out the door, and in the next minute Eddie was sliding down to his knees, pushing you up against the wall at the entrance to his apartment. He pulls down your boxers and underwear before you can protest about your lateness any further, and he hooks your leg up over his shoulder before you can do more than grasp at his hair.
“Are you serious? I - oh god.”
Eddie’s mouth is on you and you should be aware of the fact that you’re moaning wantonly right by the door that leads to an inner hallway where all of his neighbors can probably hear you as they set out on their day.
Your bag starts slipping off your shoulder and the lights start flickering - he’d pushed you against the wall where the light switch is, so each time you move you find yourself clicking it on and off with your back.
“Eddie - oh. Eddie!” you try to call his attention to the awkward placement through your laughs and gasps, but he only seems vaguely annoyed by the distraction. He manhandles you over the the kitchen island and you grip at the counter, unsure what he has planned until he gets on his knees from behind you, gripping your hips and pulling your legs back apart so he can get to you with his mouth again.
“Holy fuck…” you yelp, completely overwhelmed by the stimulation. Eddie shoves two fingers deep inside of you again, thrusting and building up momentum until you find yourself forced up onto tiptoes.
You clutch at the counter and do your best to take the force of his thrusting - it feels so fucking good when he curves his fingers just like that - but you’re so overwhelmed you finally have to say something.
“Eddie. You’re making my legs shake! I can’t…” you pant.
You’re not sure what you expected him to do, but either way you’re surprised when he clambers to his feet and grabs you into his arms. Insecure and completely unused to being lifted, you let out a scream, but you’re only in the air long enough for him to deposit you onto one of the stools by the kitchen counter.
“This better for your legs?” Eddie asks, kissing your thighs while he spreads them and settles back on his knees between them.
“Yeah, I guess - Eddie!” you cry out at the feeling of his mouth on you yet again. His lips suction around your clit and he sucks. Hard. Your leg hooks over his shoulder again and your fingers thread through his hair pulling tightly as you hold on for dear life.
You don’t even have time to warn him. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train. You spasm around the fingers he’d some how managed to get back deep inside you at one point, and he laps you up as you rock your hips into his face. Thighs press into his ears while you ride out the feeling.
By the time your breathing has finally returned to normal, Eddie has already gotten up from the floor and started assembling your clothes and bag from where they’d been strewn about.
“You’re gonna be late for work, huh baby?” he asks, with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. A massive erection stands proud in his boxers and you laugh in spite of yourself, fully breathless.
“What the fuck was that, Munson?”
He leans forward to give you a kiss
“That was one for the road.”
~*~
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Thanks for reading, please comment and reblog to let me know what you think!
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Random but it’s kinda funny and sad that every silly word that people come up with to describe a character they have emotions about turns into a “you’re not allowed to” thing
Eons ago, “woobie” was just a trope name for any character you felt the urge to wrap in a blanket and comfort. No commentary on purity or innocence: just the reaction of sympathy from the audience.
Then “meow meow” jokingly became the self-aware “yes I am feeling soft over a very sketchy character.” Almost a preemptive “I know they’re not pure but I am going to defiantly like them anyway.”
Then “blorbo” is your most distant, vague expression of fondness there is. It doesn’t specify what TYPE of favorite the character is, just that they’re on your mind.
And then recently I saw people complaining about the “blorbofication” of characters, which was explained as “a character that is liked more than they deserve” or whatever. “They’re not your blorbo! they have [flaw]!” is just the same “they’re not your meow meow! they’ve done [bad thing]!“ and the descendent of “ugh you like them? you’re woobifying them!!”
like turning having emotions over fictional characters into something you gotta morally justify is so *tiring*
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It makes me sad that it’s been a month since Michael Sheen has interacted with fans on Twitter (I don’t count the tweets for causes or charities). Except for the time some ten years ago when he got off twitter all together, I think this is the longest “hiatus” he’s taken. I’ve heard, “maybe he’s just too busy” and I’m sure that’s partly true but he’s been busy before and generally doesn’t stay away more than a few days at a time.
I think we all know the real reason he’s currently gone is because he was dogpiled over his statements not being pure enough about the current situation in Palestine according to the Twitter Foreign Policy Experts who thought they’d take it upon themselves to school a 54-year-old activist who’s been watching the shifting struggles of the world for decades. Anyone who’s been following him for the past few years should have noticed by now that he doesn’t take kindly to condescention or insults and he’ll readily block those who try. In their parasocial fantasies they forget that friendliness ≠ friendship and shit you can get away with saying to RL friends may not go down well with someone they don’t really know outside of their public persona.
I hope if he finally decides to start interacting with fans again they remember to show some goddam respect. He’s NOT your buddy. He’s a friendly stranger on the internet.
Addendum: if anyone tries to make this political I will block you, no exceptions. I don’t take kindly to condescension or insults, either.
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Re the stalking thing and the anon wanting to hear from people who have been stalked: Hi, that's me and a loved one who also watched this show!
For the most part, Marinette is not written like a stalker. She's written like an obsessed fangirl. She doesn't really follow Adrien around outside of school, she only shows up to public events/appearances, and all of the pictures on her walls are professional photos, not things that she took in secret. Her chest of gifts is all things for future birthdays, not things that she's bombarding him with constantly to make him feel unsafe.
I'm not saying that her behavior is healthy, it's one of my least favorite elements of the show and I can see why it would be triggering if you've been stalked. But in terms of what she actually does vs the behaviors associated with stalkers, she's either not one at all or in the very most proto stages of becoming one.
I don't think her actions are funny or even appropriate for a kids show (call me old fashioned, but I think main characters who are meant to win kids hearts should portray healthy behavior or have their unhealthy behavior addressed and corrected) I think they leaned way too hard into the fangirl thing, ignoring how differently that plays if you actually know the person that you're a fan of.
Her worst behaviors are also clearly exaggerated to absurdity. Like knowing his schedule for the next three years? No one knows their schedule for the next three years! This is clearly absurdist humor. The toned down, realistic version of this joke is that she knows when his weekly activities take place because of course she does. They're classmates and that stuff repeats every week. I knew my high school crushes schedule, too. I didn't actively seek it out. I just saw it repeat enough times to know it by heart.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
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