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callsigns-haze · 4 months

Text

Behind the scenes, we ain't so clean

pairing: young!president!coriolanus snow x fem!first lady!reader

summary: you both are so composed until it comes to the bedroom stuff

warnings: smut, spanking, fingering, unhinged coryo, work sex, dominance, short fic

A/n: This is my second hunger games post so I hope y'all enjoy!

He's soft. Or at least that's what Y/N thinks about Coryo.

There has always been an oral rule between you and Coryo: if one of them needs anything, say it. However, you don't not want to harm Coryo's feelings. You don't think telling him he's too amazing in bed will work very well because of his large ego.

You're nibbling on your bottom lip and bouncing your leg up and down on the edge of your and Coryo's king-size bed because of this. Usually, you would go nibble on the tips of your nails, but you received a manicure lately, and you're unwilling to feel like you squandered the money.

You get up and begins pacing, thinking about what you should tell Coryo you want to carry out in bed . The ideas are followed by images of him performing these dirty things, and you begin to feel a little moist between your legs, knowing you must stop so you can keep your head clear when the discourse begins.

"Achieving your steps in?" Coryo's raspy voice reverberates throughout the massive bedroom, making Y/N weak in the knees, and you can't wait to see how dark and rough it can get as he vents his sexual frustrations while dominating you.

"Oh! Hi!" You rub the back of your neck, feeling uneasy for no apparent reason, and stands with your knees at an unnatural angle, appearing bent into each other. "W-What're you doing home so early?"

"You're not thrilled to see me?" He smirks, prancing over to you and throwing his arms around your form, pulling your to his body. "Well?" His forehead rubs into yours, urging you to respond, nipping your lips for encouragement.

"M'happy to be able to see you, too." His hands slide downward to grasp your bottom, causing your to groan against his lips because, while it feels nice, you crave more.

"How was the office?" You ask him as he sits down upon the bed. "Busy but we managed."

"Spank me." It comes out more unexpectedly. You had intended to take things slowly and ease the discussion along, but your rapid mind had other ideas.

"What?" Coryo asks amusingly, tilting his body back to get a better look at you.

Y/N is ashamed and unsure if you want to proceed with the chat you had in your brain. "Nothing," you rush out, burying your face in his chest.

"No, no," Coryo insists, tugging your up by your hair, causing Y/N to have a tiny orgasm just from the mild manhandling. "I guess you meant 'spank me'?"

------

I'd never done anything exactly like this before, but thankfully for Coryo, I've always been someone who is willing to try new things. That's why I didn't mind when he tugged my skin tights and knickers all the way down to my ankles, curtly instructing me to take my 'Heels off'.

So I kicked them off, standing much more easily on the floor while my elbows supported me on top of his wooden desk. I believed he casually flung the shreds of material away before stroking both of his enormous hands up both of my legs, reaching the back of my thighs and causing goosebumps to appear on every inch of flesh.

He hiked my black skirt up over my hips, exposing my rear to him, and I heard him take a sharp inhale before smoothing both of his hands over my bottom cheeks.

"I'm going to spank you, okay?" He breathed and I gulped, nodding.

I was shocked as he abruptly grabbed on my hair, forcing my head up, my ass pressing into his powerful bulge as his lips skated harshly over my stretched neck.

"Okay, what?" Coryo seemed annoyed, and I assumed that the more I spoke, the more he would praise me rather than growl at me.

"Okay, spank me," I replied. "Please, please spank me."

He squeezed at the cheeks, satisfied with my words. "That's it. Go on, sweetheart, beg for it."

When his hand came down again, I let out a yell and felt each of his rings on my searing flesh. When his palm spanked me again, the left side of my face pushed to the desk and nudged forward, and I let out a delighted groan.

"Good girl, Y/n," he said. "Good girl, for me." I waited for his hand to spank me again, but nothing happened, so my brow wrinkled and I arched my back, looking for his hard hand.

"You've had enough, baby," he said softly, stroking and caressing the inflamed spot he'd battered.

I whined, pushing my ass out further. "More," I breathed. "Want more."

I had no idea my eyelids were closed until he tugged on my hair again, lips pressing to the region just behind my ear and sucking softly before skimming his teeth over the flesh. I gave a throaty groan as Coryo hummed and thrust his hips forward.

"Felt good," I praised him.

With two of his fingers running up the folds and then circling over my swelled nub, the hand that wasn't in my hair ran across my front, diving between my legs and coming to rest in my centre, causing my eyes to flutter shut. "You're so wet, I can—"

I pushed back against him while whining and pleading for more—for him. With a moan, he jutted his hips forward and his fingers moved more quickly inside of me. It felt exhilarating, but it was definitely not how I wanted it to end. Despite my right hand's strong grip on his arm to stop him, his strength overcame it and he kept digging his fingers in and out.

"N-no, not like this," I groaned ineffectively as Coryo continued to accelerate. "Coryo, stop." I whimpered, trying to get his fingers out from between my thighs and picturing how he would feel inside of me.

He said, "Come," but I shook my head. "You believe you have a say?" His fingers were working quicker than before, and he nearly laughed.

"Good." He gave me praise and helped me get through my orgasm till he felt that I was too sensitive and pulled his moist fingers away. My eyes closed, my chest fell back against his desk, rising and falling as I struggled to gather myself and find my breath.

"I don't-" I let out a startled cry and shuddered when I felt Coryo's shaft poke its way out of my door and then easily slide in.

"One more?" Warm hands gripped my hips as he filled me to the brim, my overstimulated insides convulsing around him as he spoke.

"N-," I whined shakily, feeling him pull almost all the way out before slipping back in.

"You certainly can," he said. "Baby, just one more. Please give me one more. With pleasurable, plea-laden words, I could only picture the sight on his face. I couldn't take my eyes off his desk to see what was going on, but I figured he was biting his lower lip and that my tight walls were squeezing him tight because to his enormous length.

"You can. Just one more." Coryo let out a few short, breathy gasps, and I did my best to get myself off his desk.

He felt so good being close to me, so comfortable, so completely full. I didn't believe my body could handle it, but before I knew it, I was groaning like before as he filled me up each time he sank in and out.

Then, there was a loud and clear knock at the door, making us freeze and bulge our eyes out of our sockets.

"President? Mr. Jackman is here for the hunger games debate you booked, but you're not answering." Said a clerk through the door.

"We'll finish later, darlin'"

Hunger games taglist:

@rosiahills22

@shanimallina87

@callsign-magnolia

@hardballoonlove

@sweetwhispersofchaos

@buckysteveloki-me

@hookslove1592

@kmc1989

@callsign-dexter

#coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x fem!reader #hunger games x reader #hunger games fic #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus imagine

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pucksandpower · 1 month

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Use Your Words

Charles Leclerc x Reader x Lando Norris

Summary: in which your boyfriends show you that there’s no shame in using your safeword

Warnings: 18+ content and use of a safeword

Based on @uramakimochi’s request

Note: the fact that I literally manifested the Charlando podium while writing this? I wish team orders didn’t play such a big role during the race but I will take the results and not look a gift horse in the mouth 🫶

Charles and Lando are both rummaging through their suitcases, looking for neckties as you wait on the bed. After their double podium finish earlier today, the three of you decided to have a little private celebration back at the hotel.

“Found one!” Charles holds up a red silk tie with a mischievous grin.

Lando chuckles, pulling out a striped tie in shades of blue. “This’ll do the trick.”

You bite your lip in anticipation as they approach you with the neckties. Charles slips behind you, gently gathering your wrists and using the tie to secure them together. You shiver at his warm breath on your neck as he works.

“Too tight?” He whispers. You shake your head slightly, unable to hide your smile.

Lando kneels in front of you, looping his tie into a makeshift blindfold and carefully covering your eyes. “Can you see anything?”

“No,” you murmur, plunged into comforting darkness. Your senses sharpen, focused on the sounds of their movements and the occasional brush of fingers against your skin.

“Perfect,” Lando’s voice is low. You feel the bed shift as he rises. “We’re going to take such good care of you tonight, princess.”

A thrill runs through you. The three of you agreed on a safeword when you first started seeing each other, a sure fire way to get any driver’s attention and slow things down. But tonight you have zero intention of using it.

Charles’ lips find the sensitive spot just below your ear. “You looked so gorgeous standing below the podium, vibrating with pride. I could hardly keep my hands off you.”

You let out a shaky breath as his mouth blazes a trail down the side of your neck. “Ch-Charles ...”

“Shhh,” he soothes, nipping at your pulse point. “No need for words yet.”

Lando’s hands glide over your thighs, pushing them gently apart. You automatically part your lips in a soft gasp. Fingertips tease along your inner thighs, drawing maddeningly close before retreating.

“So responsive,” Lando marvels. You can’t see him but you know he’s grinning. “I haven’t even properly touched you yet and you’re already squirming.”

Your cheeks flush hot. You want to retort but all that comes out is a quiet whine as Lando’s fingers finally make contact. He chuckles darkly at your reaction.

Charles slips one hand beneath the loose hem of your top, palm skating over your ribs and up to cup your breast. You arch into his touch with a small moan. His thumb brushes over your nipple, adding delicious friction through the thin fabric of your bra.

“So beautiful,” he rumbles in approval. “The way your body sings for us ...”

His mouth finds yours, tongue instantly seeking entrance that you grant with a whimper. The kiss is deep and hungry, leaving you dizzy and panting when he finally releases your lips.

Lando’s long fingers have been steadily working between your thighs, stroking and teasing your increasingly slick folds. You buck your hips without meaning to, desperate for more substantial contact.

“Please,” you finally manage to beg. Your voice is barely above a whisper.

“Patience, darling,” Lando tuts, though his own breathing is growing ragged. He hooks one of your legs over his shoulder for better access, leaning in to lick a broad stripe right through your heated center.

You cry out sharply, tugging instinctively at the tie binding your wrists. The heat of Lando’s mouth and the soft lap of his tongue are glorious torment. Charles smothers your keening noises with another searing kiss.

Lando groans his appreciation against your tender flesh, lapping and sucking insistently. “You taste so fucking good,” he growls. “Been dreaming about this all day ...”

Arousal is throbbing through you like a second heartbeat. Charles’ lips abandon yours to trail down your throat, his other hand cupping your breast and rolling the nipple between his fingertips. Every nerve is exquisitely alive, buzzing beneath their skilled touches.

Lando’s tongue flicks over your throbbing clit and your back arches off the bed. Your loud mewl is half pleasure, half plea. He grants you no reprieve, mouth working enthusiastically to take you apart piece by piece. Charles captures your lips again, stealing the cries from your throat.

You’re quickly soaring higher, spiraling toward that glorious precipice. Their murmured praises and scorching caresses urge you ever onward. But just when you think you’re about to tumble over the edge, Lando’s mouth abandons you entirely.

You nearly sob at the loss, hips frantically chasing that delicious friction. Charles soothes you with gentler kisses, murmuring praise against your swollen lips. “So good for us, mon ange. You’re doing beautifully.”

You dimly feel the bed shift again, and then there’s a warm mouth trailing kisses up your inner thigh. Charles, blessing you with more delicious stimulation. But just when you think he’s going to grant you relief, Lando’s seeking lips find your other thigh.

“No, no please,” you beg between panting breaths. If they keep denying you for much longer, you’ll go mad. There’s a soft tsking noise and you feel Lando’s fingers combing through your hair. Charles continues lavishing attention on your shuddering flesh.

“Use your words,” Lando murmurs huskily. “What do you need, love?”

You swallow hard, mouth suddenly dry. “Please just … I need ...”

“Tell us, mon amour,” Charles prompts, lips brushing your hipbone.

There’s really only one way to circumvent this maddening tease. You suck in a breath, steadying yourself.

“Box,” you force out. “Box box box.”

All movement instantly stills. Your heart is thundering a rapid staccato, waiting with bated breath for them to respond to the agreed safeword. You bite your lip, instantly second guessing your decision.

Fingers stroke along your cheeks, Lando’s touch infinitely gentle. “Sweetheart,” his normally playful voice is low and soothing, all traces of teasing vanished. “Are you hurting? Do you need to stop?”

You shake your head minutely, abruptly blinking back unexpected tears of frustration behind the blindfold. “No no, I just … please can I just ...”

“Shh, it’s alright,” Lando hushes you. His lips lightly brush your forehead. “Take a deep breath, pretty girl.”

You obey, inhaling shakily through your nose. Charles presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek.

“Talk to us,” he urges softly. “Don’t be afraid to voice your needs.”

“I w-want ...” you stammer, toes curling. “I need you both so badly, please. No more teasing. I just want you to make me come.”

There’s a pause, and for a heart-stopping moment you fear you’ve ruined the mood entirely. But then Lando lets out a low groan of relief.

“Look at you using your words so prettily,” he praises. Charles chuckles softly beside you, nuzzling against your jaw. You feel the bed shift again as Lando moves into position.

“We would never deny you, love,” he murmurs. “Not when you ask so sweetly.”

His long fingers slide home, curling and plunging into your dripping heat. You cry out at the sudden stretch and glorious pressure. Charles lays claim to your mouth again, greedily swallowing your moans.

Lando’s palm fits perfectly against your bundle of nerves, grinding in time with the thrust of his fingers. The spark of pleasure races through you, building and spiraling rapidly higher. Distantly you hear your own broken whimpers bleeding into Charles’ mouth.

“That’s it, ma belle,” he growls, lips trailing over your cheeks and throat. “Let us hear how good we make you feel.”

Lando curls his fingers, nailing that sublime spot inside you over and over until you begin to shake apart. Your cries rise to a sobbing keen, back arched taut as a bowstring.

“Come for us, darling.” Lando’s command is heated, fingers sinking deep. “Let go.”

You shatter with a high wail, rapture cascading through you in scorching waves. Lando strokes you through it, coaxing every last spasm of bliss with his touch until you finally slump boneless against the mattress.

Strong arms envelop you, tucking you securely against dual heartbeats. Gentle fingers trace your features, brushing away the dampness beneath your blindfold. You’re surrounded with warmth and adoration, coddled by their praise.

“Belle fille,” Charles murmurs, lips finding your temple.

“So perfect,” Lando echoes, stroking back sweat-dampened strands of hair. “Our good girl ...”

You sigh in utter contentment, letting their cherished words soak into your very bones. No matter what heights you reach, they’ll always be there to catch you in their arms.

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earlgreyflowers · 5 months

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59+Oscar. I was thinking they just had (vanilla) sex and as they’re lying in bed she says this and he’s immediately like, aight bet.

(Also this was the anon who sent in the 7 minutes in heaven one, thought I’d un anon myself, lol)

I am dropping everything to write this request immediately, you are an oscar piastri smut genius. I altered the prompt ever so slightly to match the reader's vibe but enjoy <3

------------------------------------------------

Your relationship with Oscar was relatively new, the two of you still getting to know each other's bodies. Oscar had always been quite a shy person, never really expressing much beyond a smile and a nod in interviews. With you he was different, soft and loving, very affectionate; something that translated into the bedroom. Hands held, missionary, forehead kisses - always very gentle.

Don't get it wrong, Oscar was a gentleman, always making sure you finished first, but there was only so much you could take before wanting to switch it up. Your head is currently lead on Oscar's hard chest, his arms wrapped around you as he breathes deeply. "You okay baby? You've been quiet since we finished." He questions, stroking his thumb up and down your arm.

"'m just thinking." You mumble, tilting your head to look at him.

"What about?" He asks, slight concern etched onto his features. You sigh, sitting up, "Do you ever want to try something different?" You ask. His eyebrows furrow, lips jutting out in a pout, "Different?" He questions.

"Like, don't take it the wrong way, that sex was good, it was so good. But next time, could you maybe do it harder?" You murmur shyly, avoiding eye contact with the Australian.

"Harder?" He asks, curiosity taking over. He pulls you into him, now straddling his waist, his hands resting on your hips. "Is that what you want? You want me to fuck you harder?" He questions, voice dropping with lust, his lips skating over your pulse point. "Want me to hold you down and fuck you like a whore?" He whispers in your ear, capturing your earlobe between his teeth, making you whine.

Your legs squeeze around his hips, yours beginning to grind lightly as he lays kisses over your neck. His pillowy lips suck against your pulse point, tongue laving over the red mark he left behind. His bite is slightly harder than usual, causing your nails to dig in to the flesh of his shoulders. He moans against you at the sting, turning you around and bending you over.

“Still dripping from the last time we fucked and my girl is just aching for my cock isn’t she?” He teases, watching the way you clench around nothing. He slips two fingers inside you, curling them down to press against your g-spot. Your knees almost give out with the pleasure but he’s quick to remind you that this was what you wanted.

Oscar positions himself behind you before sliding his cock inside you, groaning at your tightness. You moan out at the feeling of being stuffed full, your head drooping. Oscar’s hand loops your hair into a ponytail around his fist, pulling your hair back before he slams himself in and out of you.

“My girl’s taking me so well ay, is this what you wanted? Wanted to be fucked so hard your pretty little ass turns red?” He asks, his free hand coming down to hit you. You scream out his name, your walls providing a vice-like grip.

“There we go, that’s it, such a good girl for me. If I’d known this was how you liked to be fucked I would’ve had you cock drunk like this much sooner. Would’ve had those beautiful eyes crying for my dick.” He groans, pulling your hair tighter as he fucks you harder, faster.

“Oh god Oscar, please don’t stop, ‘m gonna cum.” You whimper, your legs slowly sliding down the mattress until you’re practically led on your stomach.

“Wanna feel you cum, wanna feel how good I make my perfect girl feel. Come on baby.” Oscar begins guiding you to your orgasm, gentle kisses to your neck contrasting the brutal pace of his hips. He feels your walls tightening further, your back arching into him. The moan of his name you let out is enough to send him over the edge, his cum filling you up.

He slides his cock out of your pussy, spreading your legs to watch the way his cum leaks out. Two fingers find the apex of your thighs, swiping through the combination of your juices before running over your lips. You open your mouth, eagerly taking in his thick fingers and he smiles, eyes beaming.

A gentle kiss to the forehead and a whispered promise of a bath is all it takes for you to fall asleep happy, dreaming of the escapades you and Oscar can now enjoy.

#f1 smut #formula one smut #f1 fanfic #f1 x female reader #formula one fanfiction #formula one imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 smut #op81 #smut requests #smut prompts #smut writing

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thatdammchickennugget · 6 months

Text

Just My Type

pairing - hockey player!theodore nott x figure skater!reader

tags - hockey player and figure skater au

warnings - none I think

wordcount - 1.1k

a/n - I wrote this drunk in the middle of the night soo...enjoy. might write a second part if anyone is interested

The tension that had accumulated in your shoulders throughout the day slowly faded away with every stroke your skates took over the freshly resurfaced ice. Neither your skating partner, nor your coach were here yet. So, you decided to make use of the little time you had the rink all to yourself.

Pushing your headphones over your ears and starting your current favourite song before carefully throwing your phone over the banister and onto your jacket lying on the bench, you turned back towards the rink and pushed your skates hard into the frozen surface, the blades cutting into the ice, leaving long lines behind.

Even though you loved skating with a partner and you could not even imagine having to perform alone anymore, you really savoured these rare moments of having the whole place to yourself. With your university’s hockey team, the multiple younger teams and all the other figure skaters it was usually packed. You got lucky by getting the owner’s wife as your coach, meaning you often got prime practice spots. It also helped that you regularly volunteered to help out with beginner classes. You had worked pretty hard on getting into their good books.

After warming up, you quickly got lost in the music and the freeing feeling of flying across the ice, improvising most of your movements, not really having a choreography in mind. You were gliding backwards, building up momentum preparing to jump into a double lutz.

Completely focused, you lifted into the air, but instead of landing back on the ice your back collided with something hard and you hit the ground with a groan. The person you had crashed into lost their balance as well, their skates barely missing your leg as they tumbled down beside to you.

“Shit, sorry. Are you okay?” a deep voice rung out as he pushed himself back up, offering you his hand.

“Nothing broken, I think,” you mumbled, rubbing your aching lower back and pulling down your headphones to hang around your neck. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention where I was going. Didn’t know anyone else was in here.”

“I wasn’t looking either,” he grimaced, hand running through his messy brown hair.

Taking his hand and letting him help you up, your face flushed when you caught him looking you up and down. His tall frame was towering over you and your heart sped up as you met his eyes, the warmth spreading from your cheeks and down your neck.

The corner of his lips quirked up into a smirk when he noticed your flustered state. That was when your gaze dropped down to his jersey covered chest, a big yellow number eight staring back at you. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. What was a hockey player doing here right now?

You did not recognize him as you were not following the hockey team, having gotten enough of hockey boys in your freshman year. In your experience, most of them were arrogant pricks who thought your passion was a lower sport. If they even acknowledged figure skating as a real sport at all.

Backing up slightly, you mentally cursed yourself for the way your knees almost buckled under his intense gaze, your legs feeling like jelly.

“What are you doing here anyways?” you asked after clearing your throat.

“What does it look like?” he teased, mentioning over to where the rest of his team was getting ready to join him on the ice. Some of them were watching your exchange and you hoped they had not witnessed the whole thing and you suddenly became acutely aware of your drenched leggings, praying that it did not look as bad as it felt.

You found the only player you knew in the group, sending Enzo a small wave. The two of you had met when his sister started taking lessons with you. You had found it adorable that he always brought her and stayed to watch. Most of the parents just dropped their children off and came back to pick them up later. Enzo, however, was there every Saturday morning, cheering not only for the sister but also for the other girls.

“But you don’t have practice right now,” you told him as you crossed your arms across your chest. “Seven to eight is our spot.”

Usually the team practiced right before you. You always heard them make a ruckus in their locker room as you waited for Billy, the Zamboni-driver, to finish refreshing the rink. Now you realized why it had felt so eery in here earlier, their laughter and yells had been missing.

“Didn’t you get the new schedule? Our practice got pushed back,” he mumbled, bending down to reach for his stick, his scent of mint and tobacco wafting your way.

“I did get it. And my spot didn’t change.” You were sure, having checked it over multiple times.

Spotting Lena, your trainer, walking towards the rink, you quickly pushed yourself away from the boy, gliding over to the banister where she was standing. The blonde woman met you with an apologetic smile.

“I’m guessing you already heard?” she asked, nodding to the player who just came to a stop behind you. “Hello Theo.”

“What’s going on?” you questioned as you watched the other players start warming up.

“There was a mishap with the schedule. Brody double booked the rink for you guys,” she explained and you stifled your groan. “Unfortunately we can’t fix it right now. Which means we’ll have to share on Tuesdays and Thursdays for now.”

“What? But Regionals are in four weeks and we need the whole rink for the routine!” you complained and Lena shrugged her shoulders.

“I’m sorry but I can’t do anything about it right now. We’ll just have to adapt,” Lena grumbled and turned to look around the area. “Wes didn’t show again?”

The mention of your partner made you cringe, your fingers finding the hem of your sweater, fiddling with it nervously. He had been becoming less and less reliable each week lately, being late all the time and sometimes not even showing up at all.

“He’s in the bathroom,” you lied, praying that he was just running late and would show up soon. Lena could definitely tell you were not telling the truth and apparently so could the boy behind you, Theo apparently.

He snorted at your bluff and you quickly whirled around to glare at him. “You better tell your friends to stay on your side.”

“Don’t worry, princess. I’ll make sure you won’t fall on your ass again,” he smirked, raising his brows as if he was trying to get you flustered again. You did not give him the satisfaction, just rolling your eyes before skating away.

Soon Lena joined you and you let out a breath of relief when you spotted Wes strolling into the building.

By now, you were the main topic of discussion among the hockey boys, Enzo being questioned from all sides as he was the only one who knew anything about you. Enzo watched with a knowing grin as Theo kept glancing your way every time you jumped or spun around, missing most of his shots.

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eddiesghxst · 11 months

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eddie’s so stupid hopeless when it comes to women he actually (secretly) reads and takes some of the advice he sees in those shitty magazines filled with advice for men for women. he reads a line about women liking when men’s pubes are shaved and so he starts shaving them. once every two to three weeks— ‘just in case i get lucky’— and, in his defense, the times he has ‘gotten lucky’ he’s never heard any complaints about it, so he figures it must be true to a certain degree.

and then you start seeing each other and eddie is always shaved when you two get down to business but then one day, it’d been a particularly busy month so he hadn’t gotten the chance to shave. you’re in the back of his van making out after sharing a blunt and eddie thinks everything is fine, but then you begin to reach down to unbutton his jeans, and suddenly he’s pulling away.

“i, uh…i didnt…” he glances at you as you patiently wait and he feels so fucking embarrassed for having to say it, “i didn’t shave.” and you just sit back and blink at him for a moment before he continues, “i know women like… you know, like it when guys are shaved so i’m just… i’m just warning you.”

“eddie…who told you that?” eddie slowly blinks and shrugs, “read it in a magazine.” and slowly, a smile appears on your face and you shake your head with a little laugh. eddie’s muddled mind can’t seem to piece together why you’re laughing but then you kiss him.

“you’re so stupid.” you mumble against his lips. “so,” kiss. “so,” kiss. “fucking,” kiss. “stupid.” kiss.

you pull away to gaze down at him, hazy brown eyes looking up at you in a mix of lust, confusion, and admiration. you smooth down a few unruly strands of his bangs and lean in, shaking your head so your noses brush against one another as you speak, “i don’t care if you choose to shave or not, eddie. i’d actually prefer you have something rather than nothing.” “…really?”

“definitely…” and suddenly you’re skating your hands down his stomach and slipping into his pants, fingers threading through the short hairs on his pelvis before you softly tug at them, causing him to softly moan against your lips with a curse. “shit, okay…good to know— fuck —i won’t shave them anymore.” you happily hum and kiss him, “good…and eddie?” your hand wraps around his cock and he’s breathless when he responds “yeah?”

“for the love of god, stop reading those shitty good-for-nothing magazines. it’s all a bunch of lies.” and eddie can barely pay attention between his high and the way you’re stroking him beneath his jeans. you lean in and nip at his jaw and he pathetically nods with a moan as you squeeze his tip, “fuck— yeah. yeah, okay. no more reading.”

eddie never picks up another one of those shitty good-for-nothing magazines again.

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