Poor baby, you're startin' to lose it, aren't ya?

Sylvie | 29 | Writer

[cherrychilli]

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[maybeyoucanstayheretonight]

18+ Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x f! reader, established relationship, cockwarming, PIV sex, unprotected sex, creampie WC:2K

Summary: You hate it when Robby skips breakfast. Determined to get him through an entire meal before he's out the door for his morning shift, you devise a way to keep him firmly in his seat until his plate is licked clean.

Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine

It’s the sizzle of raw egg whites gently bubbling up with milky color around a pair of sunny yolks that manages to coax Robby out of his slumber. They bubble in a thin, aromatic layer of bacon fat left over from the strips you’d fried up before cracking two eggs over the hot frying pan.

He lingers a while, mostly awake but not ready to leave bed just yet. He’d been on his side when he woke, facing your side of the bed. Without you there now he rolls slowly onto his back, arms and legs stretching out lazily. There’s a faint crack and pop here and there in his joints, then his fingers softly scratch at the hairy patch of stomach that peeks out between his sweatpants and wrinkled t-shirt.

There’s an insistent chirping outside the bedroom window; a nest of hungry starling chicks calling to their mother from where they sit wedged securely under a space in the roof. The sound of their hunger drums up his own even more, the smell of a hot breakfast hanging tantalizingly in the air.

“Michaeeel, come eat.”

The corner of his mouth pulls into a sleepy half smile at the sweet drawn-out mention of his name, bare feet meeting the floor as he begins to rise and leave the bedroom behind.

“Making me breakfast? and what did I do to deserve all this?”, he calls out to you playfully as he heads over, stopping for a moment to squint at the newspaper that’s been left folded on the arm of the couch but giving up when he remembers that he’s left his glasses behind.

“Don’t want you skipping breakfast again, Mister”, you call out a little less sweetly.

The man scratches at his beard meekly at that. “Ah…”, he lets out, reminded of how often you’d made it known that you dislike him leaving home for his morning shift with nothing but a couple of energy bars stuffed into his pocket to get him through it.

“Mmhmm. Now have a seat, I’ve got everything ready for you.”

“Baby, thank you. That’s so- “

Robby makes it to the entryway to the kitchen but not further than that, freezing in place when he gets a look at you in front of the stove. By your side you’ve piled a small stack of fluffy, browned bacon pancakes on a plate. You pick it up and turn around with a second plate of fried eggs fresh out the pan in the other.

“C’,mon”, you urge him again casually in your little apron.

Only in your little apron.

It’s secured around you nicely. Crisp white with the straps tied behind you in a tight, dainty bow. Its edges are cute and frilled, just flared out enough to keep everything technically covered. So long as you face him this way. Turn around and he’d get a good look at your bare ass again.

“…Honey?”

You pout, looking a little disappointed in yourself as far as Robby can guess and it only adds to the confusion. “No…, maple syrup. Isn’t that what you usually prefer?”, you glance at the glass bottle full of sweet amber syrup that you’d already placed on the table when you first set it.

“No- nononono”, he flusters away the misunderstanding.

“Why- and believe me, I am not complaining in the slightest but, why are you dressed like that, honey?”

“Oh”, you reply, resuming your path to the table and setting both plates down by Robby’s seat. The cutlery's already been set out too and his mug, full of bitter black coffee, releases tendrils of curling, steamy vapor into the air.

“To incentivize you”, you state bluntly. “You know I don’t like how you don’t eat right in the mornings. Or ever, really. Honesty, what is with you doctors, Robby? You all act like you’re allergic to the same healthy habits you harp about to your patients.”

On a normal day he’d answer. Some dismissive excuse wrapped around a bad joke to diffuse the tension. But now? Nothing. He’s caught in the snare of your stern gaze, arms crossed which only helps to push your breasts higher and strain against the top of the apron. That displaces his focus back to your state of dress and Robby pays silent thanks to every thread that makes up that little apron of yours, never having paid stricter attention to anything else like he is right now.

He could get used to this.

“I’m going to look extra pretty for you and treat you even better, but only if eat a proper meal”, you point a finger at the food finitely.

“Now. Sit.”

Promptly, Robby takes his seat, not unlike a dog trained to behave for a treat. It happens so quickly and he has no urge to question it any more. If his girl wants to take care of him while wearing something skimpy then why the hell not?

“Baby, let it never be said that you don’t come up with the best ideas”, he chuckles, picking up his fork and knife, ready to cut into one of the thick pancakes first.

“Good, I’m glad you think so because-"

Just when he thinks he’s caught the gist of it, just when he thinks the surprises have come to an end, you stun him into silence again. Dropping onto Robby’s lap, you place each leg on either side of his thighs to straddle him as you begin to pull at the strings of his sweatpants. He can’t help but choke on nothing, yet to even take a bite with both hands still suspended in the air, uselessly clutching his cutlery as you slip your hand inside. With no boxers to wrestle with, you begin to wrap your fingers around his cock as easily as you have every time before. Lazily, you pump at it, now much less soft after finding you in here with your nude back turned to him while fixing him breakfast.

“I know you, Robby. I’m not letting you scarf some of it down and run out the door either. You’re going to stay right here-"

You rise when you think him firm enough in your grasp, carefully lining his cock up with your wet entrance and then easing all the way down onto his base. The thought of performing the very act had kept you damp down there all throughout preparing the meal. So, you share in relishing the feeling of being joined again and full.

“And finish eeeeevery last bite. Nice and slow. Right here in this seat, until I say you can go. Okay?”

The words jumble and tangle on Robby’s tongue like an overgrowth of vines, never quite getting past his lips. One moment he’d settled down, aroused, yes, but mostly incredibly endeared that you’d gone through all this effort just to make sure he’d be taken care of. Now, he’s inside you. You’d put him there, mounted him with a quiet and casual confidence that he’s still reeling from. His mouth feels dirt dry but it’s hard to care when you’re keeping his cock so deliciously warm and wet.

Your arms wrap around his neck next, tucking your chin on his shoulder.

“Go on. Eat”.

The man’s trapped, essentially. Not that he’s opposing. Not one bit.

Pancakes first, Robby pretty much hits reboot as he sticks his fork in and runs his knife through the softness, evenly distributed cuts of salty, chopped bacon in the mixture. “So good”, he comments through a mouthful, chewing well. Hearing it makes you clench around him, pleased and excited. “Yeah? New recipe”, you gleam.

Working his way through the food, he gives you much praise, both about the tasty meal and how good you feel around him. Every few moments you feel him buck up into you too, the kind of thing he can’t help but follow through with despite wanting to be good for you. You feel kind enough not to tease him for it. And when you sense him slowing down, pancakes done and just one more fried egg to go, you make sure to whisper; “Finish it all and I’ll let you finish inside me”.

Just like that the man’s vigor is replenished with comical swiftness, stuffing the last half of the egg into his mouth, swallowing once he’s chewed through it well enough. Clearly eager for his reward, he grabs the still hot mug of coffee despite knowing better, bringing it to his lips and practically chugging it down.

“Don’t burn yourself! I’m not driving you to the center to be a patient. Or would you like to explain to your colleagues exactly how you singed yourself?”, you reprimand him though you’re not surprised one bit when you feel his cock kick up and twitch inside you at that.

“Oh yeah? You’d like that, huh? Want to tell them how your girl dolled up and dressed down for you? Then sat on your cock while you filled up on what I made for you? Hm? Dirty old man”, you chide, teasingly taking his earlobe between your teeth and biting lightly.

Setting the empty mug down a little harder than necessary with a loud clink, Robby gulps down the contents, a thin rivulet of caffeine making its way through his beard as his hands coming to fix on your ass.

“All done. Do I get my reward now?”

You can’t help but giggle at this particular type of raw eagerness in a man of his age.  

“Yup. You’ve earned it”, you pull away from where you’d had your face tucked between his neck and shoulder, making eye contact with him again since he’d taken his first bite. Without another word, you press your feet to the ground and begin to bounce in his lap.

Robby helps, hands strong on your ass. One of them is still warm from clutching the hot mug of coffee he’d swigged down, pulling you down hard to his base with every bounce.

“Never skipping a meal again. Any of them. Breakfast, lunch, dinner- fucking brunch even. Not if I’ve got you like this in my lap”, he grunts and groans through the silky drag of your walls around his cock like it’s the first time he’s ever felt it.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck…oh f-fuck.”

You chase your own pleasure too, grinding the bead of your clit against him with a fluid roll and snap of your hips.

“Robby, baby, I love you so much. Just want you to take b-better care of yourself, okay?”.

It’s the plain, honest core of the sexy little routine you’ve introduced to him today. That desperate consideration for him, the kind he’s never known from anyone else, is what sends him over the edge, a splash of heat shooting inside you, thick and plentiful.

In the midst of it you shudder through the shaky, pulsing wave of your own release when it hits, trembling and whining in his lap.

“Promise…promise I’ll do better. For both of us.”

The words come seconds after, settling on you like some sort of years long-awaited closure.

“Good. That’s all I want. For you to keep trying”, you reply truthfully.

Resting, your head against his shoulder again, arms around his neck, you cuddle into Robby as he rubs sweetly at your back. Giggles are exchanged as he pulls at the edges of your apron, wondering where you’d got it and when and if you might consider trying out a few more designs and colors going forward. Charged to his card, of course.

 The playful banter softens a little after that as your tired bodies slump into each other, wordlessly recuperating before it’ll be time to pull his spent cock free from you and separate. He’s only got 20 minutes left before he’ll need to leave for work. As another surprise you’ve even got a proper lunch packed and ready for him. You’re keen to hand it to him before he’s out the door and then, later, you’ll decide on what you’ll be making for dinner. The silence lasts a little over a minute, a pleasant pause before coming to an end when he speaks up.

 “So, any chance I can have what’s under that apron of yours for dessert tonight?”

[maybeyoucanstayheretonight]

18+ Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x f! reader, established relationship, cockwarming, PIV sex, unprotected sex, creampie WC:2K

Summary: You hate it when Robby skips breakfast. Determined to get him through an entire meal before he's out the door for his morning shift, you devise a way to keep him firmly in his seat until his plate is licked clean.

Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine

It’s the sizzle of raw egg whites gently bubbling up with milky color around a pair of sunny yolks that manages to coax Robby out of his slumber. They bubble in a thin, aromatic layer of bacon fat left over from the strips you’d fried up before cracking two eggs over the hot frying pan.

He lingers a while, mostly awake but not ready to leave bed just yet. He’d been on his side when he woke, facing your side of the bed. Without you there now he rolls slowly onto his back, arms and legs stretching out lazily. There’s a faint crack and pop here and there in his joints, then his fingers softly scratch at the hairy patch of stomach that peeks out between his sweatpants and wrinkled t-shirt.

There’s an insistent chirping outside the bedroom window; a nest of hungry starling chicks calling to their mother from where they sit wedged securely under a space in the roof. The sound of their hunger drums up his own even more, the smell of a hot breakfast hanging tantalizingly in the air.

“Michaeeel, come eat.”

The corner of his mouth pulls into a sleepy half smile at the sweet drawn-out mention of his name, bare feet meeting the floor as he begins to rise and leave the bedroom behind.

“Making me breakfast? and what did I do to deserve all this?”, he calls out to you playfully as he heads over, stopping for a moment to squint at the newspaper that’s been left folded on the arm of the couch but giving up when he remembers that he’s left his glasses behind.

“Don’t want you skipping breakfast again, Mister”, you call out a little less sweetly.

The man scratches at his beard meekly at that. “Ah…”, he lets out, reminded of how often you’d made it known that you dislike him leaving home for his morning shift with nothing but a couple of energy bars stuffed into his pocket to get him through it.

“Mmhmm. Now have a seat, I’ve got everything ready for you.”

“Baby, thank you. That’s so- “

Robby makes it to the entryway to the kitchen but not further than that, freezing in place when he gets a look at you in front of the stove. By your side you’ve piled a small stack of fluffy, browned bacon pancakes on a plate. You pick it up and turn around with a second plate of fried eggs fresh out the pan in the other.

“C’,mon”, you urge him again casually in your little apron.

Only in your little apron.

It’s secured around you nicely. Crisp white with the straps tied behind you in a tight, dainty bow. Its edges are cute and frilled, just flared out enough to keep everything technically covered. So long as you face him this way. Turn around and he’d get a good look at your bare ass again.

“…Honey?”

You pout, looking a little disappointed in yourself as far as Robby can guess and it only adds to the confusion. “No…, maple syrup. Isn’t that what you usually prefer?”, you glance at the glass bottle full of sweet amber syrup that you’d already placed on the table when you first set it.

“No- nononono”, he flusters away the misunderstanding.

“Why- and believe me, I am not complaining in the slightest but, why are you dressed like that, honey?”

“Oh”, you reply, resuming your path to the table and setting both plates down by Robby’s seat. The cutlery's already been set out too and his mug, full of bitter black coffee, releases tendrils of curling, steamy vapor into the air.

“To incentivize you”, you state bluntly. “You know I don’t like how you don’t eat right in the mornings. Or ever, really. Honesty, what is with you doctors, Robby? You all act like you’re allergic to the same healthy habits you harp about to your patients.”

On a normal day he’d answer. Some dismissive excuse wrapped around a bad joke to diffuse the tension. But now? Nothing. He’s caught in the snare of your stern gaze, arms crossed which only helps to push your breasts higher and strain against the top of the apron. That displaces his focus back to your state of dress and Robby pays silent thanks to every thread that makes up that little apron of yours, never having paid stricter attention to anything else like he is right now.

He could get used to this.

“I’m going to look extra pretty for you and treat you even better, but only if eat a proper meal”, you point a finger at the food finitely.

“Now. Sit.”

Promptly, Robby takes his seat, not unlike a dog trained to behave for a treat. It happens so quickly and he has no urge to question it any more. If his girl wants to take care of him while wearing something skimpy then why the hell not?

“Baby, let it never be said that you don’t come up with the best ideas”, he chuckles, picking up his fork and knife, ready to cut into one of the thick pancakes first.

“Good, I’m glad you think so because-"

Just when he thinks he’s caught the gist of it, just when he thinks the surprises have come to an end, you stun him into silence again. Dropping onto Robby’s lap, you place each leg on either side of his thighs to straddle him as you begin to pull at the strings of his sweatpants. He can’t help but choke on nothing, yet to even take a bite with both hands still suspended in the air, uselessly clutching his cutlery as you slip your hand inside. With no boxers to wrestle with, you begin to wrap your fingers around his cock as easily as you have every time before. Lazily, you pump at it, now much less soft after finding you in here with your nude back turned to him while fixing him breakfast.

“I know you, Robby. I’m not letting you scarf some of it down and run out the door either. You’re going to stay right here-"

You rise when you think him firm enough in your grasp, carefully lining his cock up with your wet entrance and then easing all the way down onto his base. The thought of performing the very act had kept you damp down there all throughout preparing the meal. So, you share in relishing the feeling of being joined again and full.

“And finish eeeeevery last bite. Nice and slow. Right here in this seat, until I say you can go. Okay?”

The words jumble and tangle on Robby’s tongue like an overgrowth of vines, never quite getting past his lips. One moment he’d settled down, aroused, yes, but mostly incredibly endeared that you’d gone through all this effort just to make sure he’d be taken care of. Now, he’s inside you. You’d put him there, mounted him with a quiet and casual confidence that he’s still reeling from. His mouth feels dirt dry but it’s hard to care when you’re keeping his cock so deliciously warm and wet.

Your arms wrap around his neck next, tucking your chin on his shoulder.

“Go on. Eat”.

The man’s trapped, essentially. Not that he’s opposing. Not one bit.

Pancakes first, Robby pretty much hits reboot as he sticks his fork in and runs his knife through the softness, evenly distributed cuts of salty, chopped bacon in the mixture. “So good”, he comments through a mouthful, chewing well. Hearing it makes you clench around him, pleased and excited. “Yeah? New recipe”, you gleam.

Working his way through the food, he gives you much praise, both about the tasty meal and how good you feel around him. Every few moments you feel him buck up into you too, the kind of thing he can’t help but follow through with despite wanting to be good for you. You feel kind enough not to tease him for it. And when you sense him slowing down, pancakes done and just one more fried egg to go, you make sure to whisper; “Finish it all and I’ll let you finish inside me”.

Just like that the man’s vigor is replenished with comical swiftness, stuffing the last half of the egg into his mouth, swallowing once he’s chewed through it well enough. Clearly eager for his reward, he grabs the still hot mug of coffee despite knowing better, bringing it to his lips and practically chugging it down.

“Don’t burn yourself! I’m not driving you to the center to be a patient. Or would you like to explain to your colleagues exactly how you singed yourself?”, you reprimand him though you’re not surprised one bit when you feel his cock kick up and twitch inside you at that.

“Oh yeah? You’d like that, huh? Want to tell them how your girl dolled up and dressed down for you? Then sat on your cock while you filled up on what I made for you? Hm? Dirty old man”, you chide, teasingly taking his earlobe between your teeth and biting lightly.

Setting the empty mug down a little harder than necessary with a loud clink, Robby gulps down the contents, a thin rivulet of caffeine making its way through his beard as his hands coming to fix on your ass.

“All done. Do I get my reward now?”

You can’t help but giggle at this particular type of raw eagerness in a man of his age.  

“Yup. You’ve earned it”, you pull away from where you’d had your face tucked between his neck and shoulder, making eye contact with him again since he’d taken his first bite. Without another word, you press your feet to the ground and begin to bounce in his lap.

Robby helps, hands strong on your ass. One of them is still warm from clutching the hot mug of coffee he’d swigged down, pulling you down hard to his base with every bounce.

“Never skipping a meal again. Any of them. Breakfast, lunch, dinner- fucking brunch even. Not if I’ve got you like this in my lap”, he grunts and groans through the silky drag of your walls around his cock like it’s the first time he’s ever felt it.

“Oh fuck…oh fuck…oh f-fuck.”

You chase your own pleasure too, grinding the bead of your clit against him with a fluid roll and snap of your hips.

“Robby, baby, I love you so much. Just want you to take b-better care of yourself, okay?”.

It’s the plain, honest core of the sexy little routine you’ve introduced to him today. That desperate consideration for him, the kind he’s never known from anyone else, is what sends him over the edge, a splash of heat shooting inside you, thick and plentiful.

In the midst of it you shudder through the shaky, pulsing wave of your own release when it hits, trembling and whining in his lap.

“Promise…promise I’ll do better. For both of us.”

The words come seconds after, settling on you like some sort of years long-awaited closure.

“Good. That’s all I want. For you to keep trying”, you reply truthfully.

Resting, your head against his shoulder again, arms around his neck, you cuddle into Robby as he rubs sweetly at your back. Giggles are exchanged as he pulls at the edges of your apron, wondering where you’d got it and when and if you might consider trying out a few more designs and colors going forward. Charged to his card, of course.

 The playful banter softens a little after that as your tired bodies slump into each other, wordlessly recuperating before it’ll be time to pull his spent cock free from you and separate. He’s only got 20 minutes left before he’ll need to leave for work. As another surprise you’ve even got a proper lunch packed and ready for him. You’re keen to hand it to him before he’s out the door and then, later, you’ll decide on what you’ll be making for dinner. The silence lasts a little over a minute, a pleasant pause before coming to an end when he speaks up.

 “So, any chance I can have what’s under that apron of yours for dessert tonight?”

[cherrychilli]

I’ve literally been thinking about your last fic all day long I swear omg it was tooooo good I loved their dynamic

Thank you so much! 😭 Let me tell you. I feel like I'm only getting rustier when it comes to my writing so getting to read this is so appreciated💛

[cherrychilli]

The Steve Harrington Summertime Spectacular (cherrychilli/Sylvie's Edition) 18+ Steve Harrington x reader, enemies to lovers, mentions of nipple play(f), oral sex(f), PIV sex WC:2.7K

Summary: Steve finds you in a compromising position. You leave him in one that's just as bad. (it needs to be said that these two are hella sly and they absolutely love it).

Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine

Written for the lovely @jamdoughnutmagician's Steve Harrington Summertime Spectacular

It’d been one of those days.

Well, technically yesterday had been one of those days. One of those days where everything had gone wrong.

Your Friday morning began with you jolting awake to the shrill sound of your mother’s raised voice, your eyelids still sleep heavy as a fight ensued because you’d forgotten to do the laundry like she’d asked. The squabble stretched on and took up most of the time you usually spent on getting ready for work, forcing you to run out of the front door with your hair uncombed, your blouse misbuttoned and a slice of burnt toast clenched between your teeth for breakfast.

Things didn’t get much better at work either.

Your luck turned rotten and stayed that way when a bus load of tourists pulled up and promptly crowded into the diner, requiring you to pinball from table to table, your arms full of menus, plates and drinks.

Between serving orders you were caught up with wiping spills off tabletops courtesy of noisy, sticky-fingered toddlers, spit bubbles gathering in the corner of their babbling mouths. Then, you were forced to smile through the nausea building in your throat from being accosted by some of the older men as they attempted to flatter you, their eyes rarely on your face as they openly ogled your tits and ass in your uniform.

It didn’t help that you were being pulled in every direction, every table in need of something the second you think you might be able to steal one moment of reprieve in the walk-in freezer to cool off and maybe scream into a frozen rack of lamb.

But that moment never came. Instead. The whole day consisted of one problem dogpiling on top of the other until the worst of it happens when you lose your grip on a plate of lamb chops towards the end of your shift, sending the bloody red meat and shards of porcelain across the floor with a crash and splat.

Despite getting down on your hands and knees to clean up the mess, your palms and knees catching on the smallest of the shards that scrape through your skin, you still received an earful from your boss because of it, chewing your ear off like gristle before you could finally clock out in defeat.

All of that tension had made its way under your skin like snake bites, speeding through your bloodstream, muscles squeezing and aching with fatigue and your joints stiff.

And only one thing could remedy it all.

You didn’t need to prepare all that much as you stepped out of the house that Saturday morning dawn, nothing in your possession but the clothes on your back and a single rolled up towel tucked under your arm.

The fifteen minute trek to the lake didn’t feel all that long as you cut through to it from your back yard. The trees out there grew dense enough to keep you safely hidden from the eyes of anyone in the neighborhood, rustling generously as the breeze slipped between their leaves, your skin cooling as you carefully stepped through to the clearing.

Lover’s lake was as it always is when you come out there to decompress – peaceful, serene and most importantly, completely deserted.

Just how you liked it.

It’d become something of a secret happy place for you in the last couple of months. Not much else helped you to mellow out like the feeling of the cool, gentle water cradling your body as you swam leisurely in the early morning dark. Weightless as you floated, nothing but the sounds of the wind and chittering birds to serenade you.

During your time coming over to make use of the lake you never ran into anyone else. Not even once. And that was why you stepped on to the dock and left your belongings behind as you did – towel, shirt, shorts and flipflops neatly stacked. No underwear or even swimwear left on you as you stretch your naked limbs before diving into the water.

You liked being in nature like this. You liked swimming in the nude. No layers to contain you no matter how thin. It was just so freeing, a much-needed respite from the stresses of work, college and home life that overwhelmed you, already feeling the calming effect of being in the water as your eyelids begin to slip shut.

“So, this is what you get up to out here, huh?”.

You’re just barely able to stop yourself from screeching, your hands wrapping around your chest as quick as the snap of a rubber band to shield your breasts, your feet kicking below you to keep your head above water.

Finding anyone standing there on the dock watching you would have rattled you for sure but this was far worse. It wasn’t just anyone who’d caught you.

"Jesus, Harrington. Are you checking me out?”, you seethe as he sneers at you from the dock, his hands placed on his hips while yours slip away from your body. It’s unlikely that he’s able to get a proper look at your naked body as you wade around in the mostly dark but even if he could, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen you bare.

If anyone were to ask those who graduated with you and the rest of the class of '85 about your relationship with Steve, they’d all say the same thing – that the two of you despised each other. That you thought him full of nothing but himself and that he thought you wound too tight to be any kind of fun. But what no one else knew was that things between you two were more complicated than that.

It started after graduation. Getting in each other’s faces at parties and even at home – the downside of sharing a fence with Steve. It would start off harmless enough. Snide, snarky comments ping ponging between the two of you until things began to twist and turn into something more heated, words no longer enough to display your dislike for one another.

So naturally the next step was hate sex in the back of Steve’s car – both of you scratching and biting through it all, trying to make the other cum first to claim some kind of torrid victory. A terribly competitive show of desire.

It was an infrequent thing, neither of you putting a label on it but neither of you turned the other down either. The truth was, everyone else bored you and Steve. Steve was the only one who interested you and it wasn’t a stretch to guess that he thought the same of you. Everyone else failed to stir anything in you, none of them challenging you the way you and Steve challenged each other.

You didn’t find him any less insufferable though, especially now as he stared you down from the dock, looking all kinds of pleased with himself.

“Did you follow me?”, you asked with a clear note of irritation coming through in your tone.

It only makes him grin knowing that he’s begun to annoy you already. “Yup. Saw you heading off in those little shorts and I had to make sure you didn’t attract any creeps on the way”.

You scoff. “A creep did follow me”, you tell him as you eye him up and down, your glare so sharp you might just make him bleed. “You just can’t stay away from me, can you?”.

But so far, he continues to appear unperturbed, completely unshaken by the severe look you aim his way.

“Now now, you ought to be nicer to me. Especially since I’ve got these”.

Your spine turns icy when Steve scoops up your shorts and t-shirt with glee.

“Give them back, Harrington” you try to persuade him with something less heated but you’re so unused to being nice to Steve that it still comes out abrasive.

“Nuh uh”, he wags a finger at you, pissing you off even more.

“You’re going to have to earn them back” he tells you, loving the way your expression falls.

It was bad enough that he’d intruded on your ‘me time’ but stealing your clothes? You have half a mind to leap for his ankles and pull him in to hold him under.

“Earn them how?", you ask him instead, grinding your teeth.

He drops your towel on the dock in a heap.

“Put this on and follow me”, he answers, already making off with your clothes, making you paddle over to the dock and wrap your towel around yourself before slipping your feet into your flip flops. You follow him because you have no choice, you can’t risk getting caught coming home dressed as you currently are.

You tread a few feet behind him, your wet flip flops squeaking on occasion and it makes you roll your eyes when you notice him huffing a laugh because of it.

You’re not surprised to find his BMW parked nearby, instantly reminded of that first night in the back seat of his car just as you always are when you catch sight of him driving the stupid thing in the neighborhood.

“Get in”, he encourages, not unkindly, though not with the kind of warmth someone without devious intentions might give off.

You do so, slipping inside the passenger seat while he tosses your clothes in the back.

“Alright, this is what’s going to happen-", he starts, one hand resting on the wheel probably out of habit.

“You want your t-shirt back? I’m going to need something substantial in return”.

“Oh, I wonder where this might possibly be going”, you reply, rolling your eyes, silently hoping your wet body might ruin the leather seat you’re currently leaning against. Make it crack and flake and crumble in patches from soaking you up.

“See? Knew you were a clever girl this whole time. It’s just your attitude that’s fuck awful”.

You deadpan at him in reply, a stern stare levelled at him that clearly conveys that he ought to watch it if he wants to keep his nose intact.

“Come on, you have to admit, it is a little funny", he attempts to lighten the mood he'd soured just a moment ago.

You sigh, a flash of a smile pulling at your lips. “What can I say? You just bring out the worst in me, Steve”. But you’re not allowed enough time to savor a snarky smirk.

Steve hooks his index finger inside your towel, pulling at it until it comes undone, bunching around your lap to expose your breasts.

“Five minutes and then I’ll let you have this back”, he reaches back for your t-shirt, holding it up before letting it drop to cover his lap.

You were less so in the mood to argue though seeing your clothes lazily draped over his stupidly constantly bulging crotch filled you with warm irritation.

“Fine”, you position yourself with your chest facing Steve, fighting to keep your breath as even as possible as his right hand reaches up and closes around your left breast. You’d rather bite the meat of your own tongue in half than admit the warmth of his palm felt any kind of pleasant on your body, lips twitching as his thumb smoothed over your nipple, his fingers squeezing the rest.

“You looking for lumps or is this just your technique?”, you snipe, the only way to push down the gentle whimper he’d very nearly coaxed out of you from his touch.

It works, his eyes sharp when they connect with yours.

“I’ve had mammograms more pleasurable than this”, you can't help but jab again and he takes it as well as a knife to his side. God, you love the fire in his earthy eyes.

“Mmhm. This better?”, he warns more than asks with a cold smile, pinching your nipple before he twists it, pulling the sensitive bud taut.

Despite it, you know he’s not all thorny and sharp edges. Having perked your nipples up with pulling and pinches, Steve uses the remaining three minutes to soothe the sting he'd planted in your sensitive skin, sucking and flicking at your nipples, earning you your t-shirt back. His mouth all messy on your cunt for the next fifteen minutes earns you back your shorts too. Neither of which you’d put on yet. And while it might not have been part of the original stipulations of today's tryst, you consider the half hour spent bouncing on his cock in the back seat an unspoken bonus.

It’s rare that you spend much time together in the afterglow, always needed somewhere else to keep from any suspicions arising. You’re the first one to begin cleaning up this time, slipping on the clothes you’ve rightfully earned back before Steve can make a move to gather any of his own.

 "Could give you a ride back", he offers casually. Trying to make it sounds like an afterthought as he stretches out across the back seat, cock soft and still plenty wet with you against his thigh, though not much smaller in size.

“I like the walk”, you turn him down, rolling your towel up into a messy, damp ball. There’s also the risk of being spotted together and getting out of his car, after all.

Before he can try again you promptly depart the BMW, making a brisk getaway as the sun begins to climb up from the horizon. You need to make it back before him so you pick up the pace, the lumpy towel tucked under your arm all the way.

The neighborhood is all yawns and outstretched limbs by the time you make it, a light sweat breaking out over your skin. The Devon family’s youngest boy has just taken to his bicycle, a tote bag full of newspapers slung around his shoulder, ready to be tossed at every doorstep with expert aim. Mrs. Dupree is out in her housecoat and house slippers, overlooking her hydrangeas and other blooming flowers with pride. Mr. Adamson is prepping with a bucket and hose to make his silver Mercedes gleam right next door. In minutes, more begin to emerge from their houses to start their day too.

So many witnesses.

You speed up the stairs and into your room, taking your place by your bedroom window. The one that overlooks the whole neighborhood. It’s then that you let the damp towel drop from under your arm, landing with a soft thud on the floor. Heavier than usual given what you’d so covertly managed to scoop up and wrap up in it.

It only takes a little over six minutes for the maroon beamer to come into view, three minutes more than needed, you notice. Your lips stretch out into a gleeful grin imagining how he must have spent those extra minutes agonizing over his return.

And yet, there’s no hesitation when he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. You suppose he’s made peace with the situation already because there’s Steve Harrington, departing his car in the middle of your now mostly awake neighborhood, clothed in nothing but his summer best – his watermelon boxer briefs. The ones you'd laughed over when he'd managed to get his jeans off in the beamer.

"What? it's summer", he'd reasoned before peeling them off for you to come take your place on his lap.

You nearly squeal with delight as you take a quick glance at everyone else in the neighborhood. Mrs. Dupree’s hand shoots up to clutch at her pearls, a shade of pink darker than her camellias flooding her cheeks. Little Tommy Devon nearly bumps his sneaker into the spokes of his front tire when it slips off the pedal, some sort of mixture between a scoff and a snort erupting from him. Mr. Adamson is a little more reserved in his reaction, a simple, disapproving shake of his head before he turns his back on the sight of a nearly nude Steve Harrington to focus his attention back on his Mercedes again. You see a few other fingers shoot up to point from different households too. Others whispering intently with each other as they watch the scene unfold.

If it bothers him, he doesn’t show it. Mostly, anyway, striding up to his front door with the same candor as he would if he were fully clothed. But before he sticks his key in the door, before he can save himself from all these prying eyes he looks up, instantly connecting his gaze with yours.

Next time.

He mouths his promise to return the favor to you around a grin, the kind that makes your whole body come down with pins and needles. You waggle your fingers back at him, all pleased and unbothered, making him chuckle before he gets the door open and steps in.

Next time, you thrill at the promise of another wickedly carnal exchange with the man.

[cherrychilli]

The Steve Harrington Summertime Spectacular (cherrychilli/Sylvie's Edition) 18+ Steve Harrington x reader, enemies to lovers, mentions of nipple play(f), oral sex(f), PIV sex WC:2.7K

Summary: Steve finds you in a compromising position. You leave him in one that's just as bad. (it needs to be said that these two are hella sly and they absolutely love it).

Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine

Written for the lovely @jamdoughnutmagician's Steve Harrington Summertime Spectacular

It’d been one of those days.

Well, technically yesterday had been one of those days. One of those days where everything had gone wrong.

Your Friday morning began with you jolting awake to the shrill sound of your mother’s raised voice, your eyelids still sleep heavy as a fight ensued because you’d forgotten to do the laundry like she’d asked. The squabble stretched on and took up most of the time you usually spent on getting ready for work, forcing you to run out of the front door with your hair uncombed, your blouse misbuttoned and a slice of burnt toast clenched between your teeth for breakfast.

Things didn’t get much better at work either.

Your luck turned rotten and stayed that way when a bus load of tourists pulled up and promptly crowded into the diner, requiring you to pinball from table to table, your arms full of menus, plates and drinks.

Between serving orders you were caught up with wiping spills off tabletops courtesy of noisy, sticky-fingered toddlers, spit bubbles gathering in the corner of their babbling mouths. Then, you were forced to smile through the nausea building in your throat from being accosted by some of the older men as they attempted to flatter you, their eyes rarely on your face as they openly ogled your tits and ass in your uniform.

It didn’t help that you were being pulled in every direction, every table in need of something the second you think you might be able to steal one moment of reprieve in the walk-in freezer to cool off and maybe scream into a frozen rack of lamb.

But that moment never came. Instead. The whole day consisted of one problem dogpiling on top of the other until the worst of it happens when you lose your grip on a plate of lamb chops towards the end of your shift, sending the bloody red meat and shards of porcelain across the floor with a crash and splat.

Despite getting down on your hands and knees to clean up the mess, your palms and knees catching on the smallest of the shards that scrape through your skin, you still received an earful from your boss because of it, chewing your ear off like gristle before you could finally clock out in defeat.

All of that tension had made its way under your skin like snake bites, speeding through your bloodstream, muscles squeezing and aching with fatigue and your joints stiff.

And only one thing could remedy it all.

You didn’t need to prepare all that much as you stepped out of the house that Saturday morning dawn, nothing in your possession but the clothes on your back and a single rolled up towel tucked under your arm.

The fifteen minute trek to the lake didn’t feel all that long as you cut through to it from your back yard. The trees out there grew dense enough to keep you safely hidden from the eyes of anyone in the neighborhood, rustling generously as the breeze slipped between their leaves, your skin cooling as you carefully stepped through to the clearing.

Lover’s lake was as it always is when you come out there to decompress – peaceful, serene and most importantly, completely deserted.

Just how you liked it.

It’d become something of a secret happy place for you in the last couple of months. Not much else helped you to mellow out like the feeling of the cool, gentle water cradling your body as you swam leisurely in the early morning dark. Weightless as you floated, nothing but the sounds of the wind and chittering birds to serenade you.

During your time coming over to make use of the lake you never ran into anyone else. Not even once. And that was why you stepped on to the dock and left your belongings behind as you did – towel, shirt, shorts and flipflops neatly stacked. No underwear or even swimwear left on you as you stretch your naked limbs before diving into the water.

You liked being in nature like this. You liked swimming in the nude. No layers to contain you no matter how thin. It was just so freeing, a much-needed respite from the stresses of work, college and home life that overwhelmed you, already feeling the calming effect of being in the water as your eyelids begin to slip shut.

“So, this is what you get up to out here, huh?”.

You’re just barely able to stop yourself from screeching, your hands wrapping around your chest as quick as the snap of a rubber band to shield your breasts, your feet kicking below you to keep your head above water.

Finding anyone standing there on the dock watching you would have rattled you for sure but this was far worse. It wasn’t just anyone who’d caught you.

"Jesus, Harrington. Are you checking me out?”, you seethe as he sneers at you from the dock, his hands placed on his hips while yours slip away from your body. It’s unlikely that he’s able to get a proper look at your naked body as you wade around in the mostly dark but even if he could, it wouldn’t be the first time he’s seen you bare.

If anyone were to ask those who graduated with you and the rest of the class of '85 about your relationship with Steve, they’d all say the same thing – that the two of you despised each other. That you thought him full of nothing but himself and that he thought you wound too tight to be any kind of fun. But what no one else knew was that things between you two were more complicated than that.

It started after graduation. Getting in each other’s faces at parties and even at home – the downside of sharing a fence with Steve. It would start off harmless enough. Snide, snarky comments ping ponging between the two of you until things began to twist and turn into something more heated, words no longer enough to display your dislike for one another.

So naturally the next step was hate sex in the back of Steve’s car – both of you scratching and biting through it all, trying to make the other cum first to claim some kind of torrid victory. A terribly competitive show of desire.

It was an infrequent thing, neither of you putting a label on it but neither of you turned the other down either. The truth was, everyone else bored you and Steve. Steve was the only one who interested you and it wasn’t a stretch to guess that he thought the same of you. Everyone else failed to stir anything in you, none of them challenging you the way you and Steve challenged each other.

You didn’t find him any less insufferable though, especially now as he stared you down from the dock, looking all kinds of pleased with himself.

“Did you follow me?”, you asked with a clear note of irritation coming through in your tone.

It only makes him grin knowing that he’s begun to annoy you already. “Yup. Saw you heading off in those little shorts and I had to make sure you didn’t attract any creeps on the way”.

You scoff. “A creep did follow me”, you tell him as you eye him up and down, your glare so sharp you might just make him bleed. “You just can’t stay away from me, can you?”.

But so far, he continues to appear unperturbed, completely unshaken by the severe look you aim his way.

“Now now, you ought to be nicer to me. Especially since I’ve got these”.

Your spine turns icy when Steve scoops up your shorts and t-shirt with glee.

“Give them back, Harrington” you try to persuade him with something less heated but you’re so unused to being nice to Steve that it still comes out abrasive.

“Nuh uh”, he wags a finger at you, pissing you off even more.

“You’re going to have to earn them back” he tells you, loving the way your expression falls.

It was bad enough that he’d intruded on your ‘me time’ but stealing your clothes? You have half a mind to leap for his ankles and pull him in to hold him under.

“Earn them how?", you ask him instead, grinding your teeth.

He drops your towel on the dock in a heap.

“Put this on and follow me”, he answers, already making off with your clothes, making you paddle over to the dock and wrap your towel around yourself before slipping your feet into your flip flops. You follow him because you have no choice, you can’t risk getting caught coming home dressed as you currently are.

You tread a few feet behind him, your wet flip flops squeaking on occasion and it makes you roll your eyes when you notice him huffing a laugh because of it.

You’re not surprised to find his BMW parked nearby, instantly reminded of that first night in the back seat of his car just as you always are when you catch sight of him driving the stupid thing in the neighborhood.

“Get in”, he encourages, not unkindly, though not with the kind of warmth someone without devious intentions might give off.

You do so, slipping inside the passenger seat while he tosses your clothes in the back.

“Alright, this is what’s going to happen-", he starts, one hand resting on the wheel probably out of habit.

“You want your t-shirt back? I’m going to need something substantial in return”.

“Oh, I wonder where this might possibly be going”, you reply, rolling your eyes, silently hoping your wet body might ruin the leather seat you’re currently leaning against. Make it crack and flake and crumble in patches from soaking you up.

“See? Knew you were a clever girl this whole time. It’s just your attitude that’s fuck awful”.

You deadpan at him in reply, a stern stare levelled at him that clearly conveys that he ought to watch it if he wants to keep his nose intact.

“Come on, you have to admit, it is a little funny", he attempts to lighten the mood he'd soured just a moment ago.

You sigh, a flash of a smile pulling at your lips. “What can I say? You just bring out the worst in me, Steve”. But you’re not allowed enough time to savor a snarky smirk.

Steve hooks his index finger inside your towel, pulling at it until it comes undone, bunching around your lap to expose your breasts.

“Five minutes and then I’ll let you have this back”, he reaches back for your t-shirt, holding it up before letting it drop to cover his lap.

You were less so in the mood to argue though seeing your clothes lazily draped over his stupidly constantly bulging crotch filled you with warm irritation.

“Fine”, you position yourself with your chest facing Steve, fighting to keep your breath as even as possible as his right hand reaches up and closes around your left breast. You’d rather bite the meat of your own tongue in half than admit the warmth of his palm felt any kind of pleasant on your body, lips twitching as his thumb smoothed over your nipple, his fingers squeezing the rest.

“You looking for lumps or is this just your technique?”, you snipe, the only way to push down the gentle whimper he’d very nearly coaxed out of you from his touch.

It works, his eyes sharp when they connect with yours.

“I’ve had mammograms more pleasurable than this”, you can't help but jab again and he takes it as well as a knife to his side. God, you love the fire in his earthy eyes.

“Mmhm. This better?”, he warns more than asks with a cold smile, pinching your nipple before he twists it, pulling the sensitive bud taut.

Despite it, you know he’s not all thorny and sharp edges. Having perked your nipples up with pulling and pinches, Steve uses the remaining three minutes to soothe the sting he'd planted in your sensitive skin, sucking and flicking at your nipples, earning you your t-shirt back. His mouth all messy on your cunt for the next fifteen minutes earns you back your shorts too. Neither of which you’d put on yet. And while it might not have been part of the original stipulations of today's tryst, you consider the half hour spent bouncing on his cock in the back seat an unspoken bonus.

It’s rare that you spend much time together in the afterglow, always needed somewhere else to keep from any suspicions arising. You’re the first one to begin cleaning up this time, slipping on the clothes you’ve rightfully earned back before Steve can make a move to gather any of his own.

 "Could give you a ride back", he offers casually. Trying to make it sounds like an afterthought as he stretches out across the back seat, cock soft and still plenty wet with you against his thigh, though not much smaller in size.

“I like the walk”, you turn him down, rolling your towel up into a messy, damp ball. There’s also the risk of being spotted together and getting out of his car, after all.

Before he can try again you promptly depart the BMW, making a brisk getaway as the sun begins to climb up from the horizon. You need to make it back before him so you pick up the pace, the lumpy towel tucked under your arm all the way.

The neighborhood is all yawns and outstretched limbs by the time you make it, a light sweat breaking out over your skin. The Devon family’s youngest boy has just taken to his bicycle, a tote bag full of newspapers slung around his shoulder, ready to be tossed at every doorstep with expert aim. Mrs. Dupree is out in her housecoat and house slippers, overlooking her hydrangeas and other blooming flowers with pride. Mr. Adamson is prepping with a bucket and hose to make his silver Mercedes gleam right next door. In minutes, more begin to emerge from their houses to start their day too.

So many witnesses.

You speed up the stairs and into your room, taking your place by your bedroom window. The one that overlooks the whole neighborhood. It’s then that you let the damp towel drop from under your arm, landing with a soft thud on the floor. Heavier than usual given what you’d so covertly managed to scoop up and wrap up in it.

It only takes a little over six minutes for the maroon beamer to come into view, three minutes more than needed, you notice. Your lips stretch out into a gleeful grin imagining how he must have spent those extra minutes agonizing over his return.

And yet, there’s no hesitation when he pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. You suppose he’s made peace with the situation already because there’s Steve Harrington, departing his car in the middle of your now mostly awake neighborhood, clothed in nothing but his summer best – his watermelon boxer briefs. The ones you'd laughed over when he'd managed to get his jeans off in the beamer.

"What? it's summer", he'd reasoned before peeling them off for you to come take your place on his lap.

You nearly squeal with delight as you take a quick glance at everyone else in the neighborhood. Mrs. Dupree’s hand shoots up to clutch at her pearls, a shade of pink darker than her camellias flooding her cheeks. Little Tommy Devon nearly bumps his sneaker into the spokes of his front tire when it slips off the pedal, some sort of mixture between a scoff and a snort erupting from him. Mr. Adamson is a little more reserved in his reaction, a simple, disapproving shake of his head before he turns his back on the sight of a nearly nude Steve Harrington to focus his attention back on his Mercedes again. You see a few other fingers shoot up to point from different households too. Others whispering intently with each other as they watch the scene unfold.

If it bothers him, he doesn’t show it. Mostly, anyway, striding up to his front door with the same candor as he would if he were fully clothed. But before he sticks his key in the door, before he can save himself from all these prying eyes he looks up, instantly connecting his gaze with yours.

Next time.

He mouths his promise to return the favor to you around a grin, the kind that makes your whole body come down with pins and needles. You waggle your fingers back at him, all pleased and unbothered, making him chuckle before he gets the door open and steps in.

Next time, you thrill at the promise of another wickedly carnal exchange with the man.

[cherrychilli]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💜

Cee, my dearest 💛 thank you for thinking of me

In no particular order:

Your relationship with Eddie is taken to a whole new level when you give each other matching rings with your teeth - oral fixation

Painting! Steve is unlike any other boyfriend you've ever had (supernatural AU, monsterfucking)

Perv! Steve and Perv! reader discover their mutual scent kink

Eddie gives into his pervy side when he accidentally gets a peek under your dress at the library

Eddie injures his dick and you decide to help him relieve his pain

[maybeyoucanstayheretonight]

18+ Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x f! reader, daddy kink, dry humping, PIV sex, unprotected sex, public sex. WC:2.3K

A/N: Re-watched the last scene of season one, saw them all having a couple of drinks in the park after that hellish 15 hours and went, what if we fucked Robby there instead? Right out in the open and everything.

Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine

It's almost eerie how still and silent it is at this time, everyone else having retired to bed hours ago. A little like the whole world's left you and Robby behind to share this particular park bench in quiet comfort.

His hands are soft and still smell faintly of sanitizer as he holds one of yours. The whispering scent of antiseptic rests on his fleece green jacket too where you place your head cozily against his shoulder. And a maroon splotch of what's most likely dried blood colors the tip of his shoe where you nudge him playfully with the tip of your heels.

It's been rare these days but it's finally happened again - both of you finishing out your long shifts at your respective workplaces at the same time. That's why you were able to meet each other halfway at the park, sinking down onto the vacant bench for some rest before it it's time to schlep to the train station and back home.

Sometimes he brought beer. Sometimes you brought cider. Not today. Today you simply nuzzled him in peaceful delight and he did the same, both of you quietly reveling in your closeness. If you squeezed a little closer, you'd be on his lap.

Why not?

Shifting from your place next to him to on to him earns a throaty chuckle out of Robby as he lets you get settled nicely on his lap sideways.

The tip of your nose scratches gently against his beard and you wrap your hands around his neck, fingers skimming the grainy golden links of his necklace. His arms loop around your waist too, hands clasped together and resting on your hip.

"Can't remember the last time we had a chance to do this", you sigh.

"Do what?" Robby asks.

"Absolutely nothing".

Robby chuckles again in agreement. You've been missing each other for two weeks now, living together but always kept apart due to different work hours and shifts. One of you alone in bed on some mornings, the other alone in bed at night. This is the first time in a while where that won't be the case.

And suddenly, simply remembering that makes the sleepy haze that'd blanketed you in the last two hours lift away in a bursting gust.

You're together. Right now.

The most time you'd gotten to spend together in the last few weeks was so little.

Waiting for the bittersweet feeling of the mattress dipping on his side of the bed when he tries to sneak under the sheets without waking you was most of it. Bitter because it always happened fifteen or so minutes before your alarm was set to go off, keeping you from tangling your limbs with his and laze for hours like you'd like to. Or even something a little less restful, like you'd like to do just as much.

Now you have the time but home is still some ways away.

The way Robby warms your skin just by being close might have lulled you to sleep on another day. Right now, it makes you want to peel the layers of clothing between you away. His heartbeat against your cheek and his breath in your hair starts to make your toes tingle, curling and uncurling them restlessly. Enough to make you strike fast and hard.

"Daddy...?"

Robby goes still, his breath pausing in the middle of inhaling.

"Baby...?", he inquires slowly.

You've already given yourself away by uttering the word but that doesn't stop you from pretending like you haven't.

"There's something else we haven't been able to do lately", you tip your head up to meet his eyes.

Robby's already looking at you, his fingers digging into your hip.

"Yeah? what's that?"

He wants to hear you say it. He loves it when you're direct.

Before you answer you make sure to look away to survey the surroundings. There hasn't been anyone around since the two of you first sat down. No one nearby. No one in the distance. The park sleeps, the sound of the wind slipping between the trees and their gently rustling leaves. Even quieter is the sound of a little group of fluttering moths plinking against the glass of the only lamppost nearby. The light it casts is dim and flickers on occasion, the bulb probably nearing a burnout. It leaves the two of you shrouded mostly in shadow.

"No one's around", you tell him, turning back to look into his eyes.

Robby nods slowly, like he's wrestling with a part of himself that's yelling out that he ought to know better than to go ahead with something like this.

"Yeah. You're right about that", he answers, the other part of him that screams back 'well, that's no fun' winning the fight with bloodied knuckles and teeth to match.

"I've really missed you", you begin to squirm a little in his lap, deliberately trying to grind against him enough to make that cock of his awaken to stiff attention.

The feeling that wets the place between your legs is the same one that kept you up all those times. You tossed and turned in bed alone, your body refusing to reward the efforts of your own fingers to bring you over the edge.

He's here now though.

It'll be different this time.

"...Fuck", Robby grits his teeth, jaw tensing up as you shift some more, slipping out of sitting sideways in his lap to pressing each of your knees to the wood of the bench, framing his hips and bringing your face close to his. Your arms are still wrapped around his neck too, softly caressing his nape.

The switch in position makes your tight midi dress ride up and over your hips, bunching at the waist but the floor length wool coat you'd draped over it for the cold keeps from letting your ass hang out. They said temperatures were likely to drop during this time. If it had, you didn’t feel it. Not when you’re in this perfect little bubble with Robby.

From where he sits, Robby isn't denied the sight of your body, panties in full view as he stares between your legs, the way your soft, clothed pussy rubs against the cock shaped bump rousing in his pants.

"Fuck, we're really doing this huh? right here?"

"Right here, Daddy", you croon, your hips working with a little more effort each couple of seconds more than the last.

"Ought to punish you for this, you know. How'd you get like this, huh? How’d my good girl get so naughty?"

"Yeah? you gonna spank me?", you giggle.

"Doesn't sound like a punishment when you say it. But I can't just let you off the hook either".

In the same breath, one large hand lands right on your ass, the layer of your overcoat doing nothing to soften the slap.

"Oh!"

The sting ripples through you, a pleasant bite of heat that has you bucking your hips faster, anything to make more pressure press down on your swelling clit.

"Again...please", you whimper into his neck, gasping with glee when another hit lands on your ass.

"Daddy, I'm so fucking wet for you.", you whine softly though all the feelings toiling inside you are far from quiet.

"Heh, I know, angel. Can feel you getting all sloppy through those little panties of yours. You like making a mess all over my pants, don't you?"

"Wanna make a mess on your cock too..."

"Fucking hell, keep talking like that".

Robby unbuckles his belt in a clumsy flurry and you help him with the rest, popping open the button on his pants and yanking his zip down a little harder than was necessary. Well, he wasn't complaining. With the way things are heating up, you have a feeling he'd be quite forgiving even if you'd somehow pulled it right off.

Only then you notice the way you're salivating, spit pooling in your mouth like a dog anticipating a treat as you sneak your hand under the front of his boxers and get his cock out.

There's wetness, you feel it alongside the warmth and it's impossible not to help yourself to the little dribble of precum that rubs off on the pad of your thumb, sucking it like hard candy, getting it all over your taste buds and down the back of your throat.

"Tastes good, daddy. Can't wait to have it dripping out of me"

"Me neither. C'mon baby, don't tease daddy. Put it in like a good girl".

His hands lift your hips and one of yours rests on his shoulder for balance, using the other other to rub his wet tip against your needy clit, whining like you're not the one purposely torturing yourself as you move it lower. His tip glides along your sticky folds, parting them and making its way to your hole as you slowly lower yourself down on his length.

"If anyone fucking walks in on us, I'm killing them. I'm fucking killing them, oh my god, you're perfect...you're so fucking warm. It's going to break my heart pulling out of this pussy"

It's a little hard to laugh at the irony of him being a life saver for a living when his cock's pushing at your walls in all the right ways. You start to bounce, the sound of a lone car passing by somewhere in the distance behind Robby doing nothing to make you slow down.

Let them see.

Let them gawk and point and gasp and sneer even if they had somehow noticed. Neither of you cared right now.

All the slick that leaked from between your legs makes it so easy to stroke his cock with a smoothness he's only ever felt when he's inside you, a wet smack sounding out every time you come down onto his base.

"Missed you so bad, daddy. Couldn't even stand to wait to get home first...it's sick how much I fucking crave you", you gasp and pant.

"I'm no better, baby", he replies between labored breaths, his hand on your breast as he squeezes it, thumb swiping back and forth over the hard little nub of your nipple turning tight behind your dress.

"Know how often you've been on my mind? you make it so hard to be professional when I'd rather be home fucking you stupid and sore like I want to"

You love it when he gets like this. Like you're this potent thing that makes his pupils dilate large enough to swallow up all the whisky brown in his eyes. Like all it takes for his composure to collapse like cracked concrete turning to dust is a tap of your finger.

"We need- we need to get away. Just ah! just for a few d-days? I can't go back to us barely seeing each other again", you stutter and moan and bounce like it's all you know how to do.

"Yeah? Some…somewhere nice and private...the cabin?", he suggests, skillful hands kneading your tits nice and not so gently.

The log cabin left to you by a generous uncle and aunt a few years back. You feel silly not having thought of it yourself but you grant yourself some grace in the moment. It's not easy to make your mind work at full capacity when you've got a thick, sturdy cock rutting in and out of you nice and hard.

It's a wonderfully cozy and private abode. Thick, leafy trees that tower. Birds that chirp together in a melodious chorus. Soft flowers of all shades and sizes scented like perfume. Maybe you'll get to watch Robby be all rugged and outdoorsy too, swinging an axe to chop some wood to get the fireplace going while he smells like cedar and sweat. You could watch him in one of those thin, strappy sundresses that stop halfway down your thighs and blow up over your hips with the slightest breeze. Your bare feet padding around the wood of the cabin, your lips fixed on the rim of a cold glass of sweet tea.

And then there's all the fucking you'll get to do.

Uninterrupted, constant, unrelenting fucking.

"Yes. No one around for fucking miles. No one to hear me screaming your name"

"Shit, you keep saying stuff like that and I might have to convince you that we shouldn’t come back".

You grin.

"So, we’re going? promise?"

"It's a promise, sweetheart", he grins back.

"Oh god, daddy, mmpf!"

It'd snuck up on you. Your orgasm had been circling around you in the last few moments, finally pouncing to climb up your spine like a long, lit fuse, sparks ascending higher and higher.

When it goes off you squeeze. Eyes screw shut, fingers curling into Robby's shoulders, your knees pressing into his hips and your pussy sucking hard enough to wring out his cock. The result is quick, exactly what he needed to shoot sputtering loads of his cum all the way inside you. Hot and nearing copious. All those weeks of no sex, you're delighted for the chance to drain all that built up cum out of his balls and into your still pulsing pussy.

Spent and still connected together, there's an unspoken understanding that you still need this closeness. at least for a little while longer. At least until you feel him turn soft enough to let slip some for his cum out of you.

"I'm going up to HR and applying for leave first thing tomorrow", you tell him, cheek resting on his shoulder, lips kissing his neck.

"Y' read my mind, baby."

[maybeyoucanstayheretonight]

18+ Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x f! reader, daddy kink, dry humping, PIV sex, unprotected sex, public sex. WC:2.3K

A/N: Re-watched the last scene of season one, saw them all having a couple of drinks in the park after that hellish 15 hours and went, what if we fucked Robby there instead? Right out in the open and everything.

Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine

It's almost eerie how still and silent it is at this time, everyone else having retired to bed hours ago. A little like the whole world's left you and Robby behind to share this particular park bench in quiet comfort.

His hands are soft and still smell faintly of sanitizer as he holds one of yours. The whispering scent of antiseptic rests on his fleece green jacket too where you place your head cozily against his shoulder. And a maroon splotch of what's most likely dried blood colors the tip of his shoe where you nudge him playfully with the tip of your heels.

It's been rare these days but it's finally happened again - both of you finishing out your long shifts at your respective workplaces at the same time. That's why you were able to meet each other halfway at the park, sinking down onto the vacant bench for some rest before it it's time to schlep to the train station and back home.

Sometimes he brought beer. Sometimes you brought cider. Not today. Today you simply nuzzled him in peaceful delight and he did the same, both of you quietly reveling in your closeness. If you squeezed a little closer, you'd be on his lap.

Why not?

Shifting from your place next to him to on to him earns a throaty chuckle out of Robby as he lets you get settled nicely on his lap sideways.

The tip of your nose scratches gently against his beard and you wrap your hands around his neck, fingers skimming the grainy golden links of his necklace. His arms loop around your waist too, hands clasped together and resting on your hip.

"Can't remember the last time we had a chance to do this", you sigh.

"Do what?" Robby asks.

"Absolutely nothing".

Robby chuckles again in agreement. You've been missing each other for two weeks now, living together but always kept apart due to different work hours and shifts. One of you alone in bed on some mornings, the other alone in bed at night. This is the first time in a while where that won't be the case.

And suddenly, simply remembering that makes the sleepy haze that'd blanketed you in the last two hours lift away in a bursting gust.

You're together. Right now.

The most time you'd gotten to spend together in the last few weeks was so little.

Waiting for the bittersweet feeling of the mattress dipping on his side of the bed when he tries to sneak under the sheets without waking you was most of it. Bitter because it always happened fifteen or so minutes before your alarm was set to go off, keeping you from tangling your limbs with his and laze for hours like you'd like to. Or even something a little less restful, like you'd like to do just as much.

Now you have the time but home is still some ways away.

The way Robby warms your skin just by being close might have lulled you to sleep on another day. Right now, it makes you want to peel the layers of clothing between you away. His heartbeat against your cheek and his breath in your hair starts to make your toes tingle, curling and uncurling them restlessly. Enough to make you strike fast and hard.

"Daddy...?"

Robby goes still, his breath pausing in the middle of inhaling.

"Baby...?", he inquires slowly.

You've already given yourself away by uttering the word but that doesn't stop you from pretending like you haven't.

"There's something else we haven't been able to do lately", you tip your head up to meet his eyes.

Robby's already looking at you, his fingers digging into your hip.

"Yeah? what's that?"

He wants to hear you say it. He loves it when you're direct.

Before you answer you make sure to look away to survey the surroundings. There hasn't been anyone around since the two of you first sat down. No one nearby. No one in the distance. The park sleeps, the sound of the wind slipping between the trees and their gently rustling leaves. Even quieter is the sound of a little group of fluttering moths plinking against the glass of the only lamppost nearby. The light it casts is dim and flickers on occasion, the bulb probably nearing a burnout. It leaves the two of you shrouded mostly in shadow.

"No one's around", you tell him, turning back to look into his eyes.

Robby nods slowly, like he's wrestling with a part of himself that's yelling out that he ought to know better than to go ahead with something like this.

"Yeah. You're right about that", he answers, the other part of him that screams back 'well, that's no fun' winning the fight with bloodied knuckles and teeth to match.

"I've really missed you", you begin to squirm a little in his lap, deliberately trying to grind against him enough to make that cock of his awaken to stiff attention.

The feeling that wets the place between your legs is the same one that kept you up all those times. You tossed and turned in bed alone, your body refusing to reward the efforts of your own fingers to bring you over the edge.

He's here now though.

It'll be different this time.

"...Fuck", Robby grits his teeth, jaw tensing up as you shift some more, slipping out of sitting sideways in his lap to pressing each of your knees to the wood of the bench, framing his hips and bringing your face close to his. Your arms are still wrapped around his neck too, softly caressing his nape.

The switch in position makes your tight midi dress ride up and over your hips, bunching at the waist but the floor length wool coat you'd draped over it for the cold keeps from letting your ass hang out. They said temperatures were likely to drop during this time. If it had, you didn’t feel it. Not when you’re in this perfect little bubble with Robby.

From where he sits, Robby isn't denied the sight of your body, panties in full view as he stares between your legs, the way your soft, clothed pussy rubs against the cock shaped bump rousing in his pants.

"Fuck, we're really doing this huh? right here?"

"Right here, Daddy", you croon, your hips working with a little more effort each couple of seconds more than the last.

"Ought to punish you for this, you know. How'd you get like this, huh? How’d my good girl get so naughty?"

"Yeah? you gonna spank me?", you giggle.

"Doesn't sound like a punishment when you say it. But I can't just let you off the hook either".

In the same breath, one large hand lands right on your ass, the layer of your overcoat doing nothing to soften the slap.

"Oh!"

The sting ripples through you, a pleasant bite of heat that has you bucking your hips faster, anything to make more pressure press down on your swelling clit.

"Again...please", you whimper into his neck, gasping with glee when another hit lands on your ass.

"Daddy, I'm so fucking wet for you.", you whine softly though all the feelings toiling inside you are far from quiet.

"Heh, I know, angel. Can feel you getting all sloppy through those little panties of yours. You like making a mess all over my pants, don't you?"

"Wanna make a mess on your cock too..."

"Fucking hell, keep talking like that".

Robby unbuckles his belt in a clumsy flurry and you help him with the rest, popping open the button on his pants and yanking his zip down a little harder than was necessary. Well, he wasn't complaining. With the way things are heating up, you have a feeling he'd be quite forgiving even if you'd somehow pulled it right off.

Only then you notice the way you're salivating, spit pooling in your mouth like a dog anticipating a treat as you sneak your hand under the front of his boxers and get his cock out.

There's wetness, you feel it alongside the warmth and it's impossible not to help yourself to the little dribble of precum that rubs off on the pad of your thumb, sucking it like hard candy, getting it all over your taste buds and down the back of your throat.

"Tastes good, daddy. Can't wait to have it dripping out of me"

"Me neither. C'mon baby, don't tease daddy. Put it in like a good girl".

His hands lift your hips and one of yours rests on his shoulder for balance, using the other other to rub his wet tip against your needy clit, whining like you're not the one purposely torturing yourself as you move it lower. His tip glides along your sticky folds, parting them and making its way to your hole as you slowly lower yourself down on his length.

"If anyone fucking walks in on us, I'm killing them. I'm fucking killing them, oh my god, you're perfect...you're so fucking warm. It's going to break my heart pulling out of this pussy"

It's a little hard to laugh at the irony of him being a life saver for a living when his cock's pushing at your walls in all the right ways. You start to bounce, the sound of a lone car passing by somewhere in the distance behind Robby doing nothing to make you slow down.

Let them see.

Let them gawk and point and gasp and sneer even if they had somehow noticed. Neither of you cared right now.

All the slick that leaked from between your legs makes it so easy to stroke his cock with a smoothness he's only ever felt when he's inside you, a wet smack sounding out every time you come down onto his base.

"Missed you so bad, daddy. Couldn't even stand to wait to get home first...it's sick how much I fucking crave you", you gasp and pant.

"I'm no better, baby", he replies between labored breaths, his hand on your breast as he squeezes it, thumb swiping back and forth over the hard little nub of your nipple turning tight behind your dress.

"Know how often you've been on my mind? you make it so hard to be professional when I'd rather be home fucking you stupid and sore like I want to"

You love it when he gets like this. Like you're this potent thing that makes his pupils dilate large enough to swallow up all the whisky brown in his eyes. Like all it takes for his composure to collapse like cracked concrete turning to dust is a tap of your finger.

"We need- we need to get away. Just ah! just for a few d-days? I can't go back to us barely seeing each other again", you stutter and moan and bounce like it's all you know how to do.

"Yeah? Some…somewhere nice and private...the cabin?", he suggests, skillful hands kneading your tits nice and not so gently.

The log cabin left to you by a generous uncle and aunt a few years back. You feel silly not having thought of it yourself but you grant yourself some grace in the moment. It's not easy to make your mind work at full capacity when you've got a thick, sturdy cock rutting in and out of you nice and hard.

It's a wonderfully cozy and private abode. Thick, leafy trees that tower. Birds that chirp together in a melodious chorus. Soft flowers of all shades and sizes scented like perfume. Maybe you'll get to watch Robby be all rugged and outdoorsy too, swinging an axe to chop some wood to get the fireplace going while he smells like cedar and sweat. You could watch him in one of those thin, strappy sundresses that stop halfway down your thighs and blow up over your hips with the slightest breeze. Your bare feet padding around the wood of the cabin, your lips fixed on the rim of a cold glass of sweet tea.

And then there's all the fucking you'll get to do.

Uninterrupted, constant, unrelenting fucking.

"Yes. No one around for fucking miles. No one to hear me screaming your name"

"Shit, you keep saying stuff like that and I might have to convince you that we shouldn’t come back".

You grin.

"So, we’re going? promise?"

"It's a promise, sweetheart", he grins back.

"Oh god, daddy, mmpf!"

It'd snuck up on you. Your orgasm had been circling around you in the last few moments, finally pouncing to climb up your spine like a long, lit fuse, sparks ascending higher and higher.

When it goes off you squeeze. Eyes screw shut, fingers curling into Robby's shoulders, your knees pressing into his hips and your pussy sucking hard enough to wring out his cock. The result is quick, exactly what he needed to shoot sputtering loads of his cum all the way inside you. Hot and nearing copious. All those weeks of no sex, you're delighted for the chance to drain all that built up cum out of his balls and into your still pulsing pussy.

Spent and still connected together, there's an unspoken understanding that you still need this closeness. at least for a little while longer. At least until you feel him turn soft enough to let slip some for his cum out of you.

"I'm going up to HR and applying for leave first thing tomorrow", you tell him, cheek resting on his shoulder, lips kissing his neck.

"Y' read my mind, baby."

[selenevesper]

hi! i know these past months have been a little hard for many of us in the fandom, and i just wanted to send some love and appreciation to the writers here after all of the things that are happening

sometimes it feels like people forget that writers aren’t machines that exist just to produce content. you’re real people who spend your time, creativity, and energy creating stories for us simply because you love it, and that’s something really special

so thank you. thank you for every fic, every idea, every late night spent writing, every update, every little piece of your imagination that you chose to share with us

your work is appreciated more than you probably realize, and there are so many readers who care about what you create. please remember that your writing matters and that you deserve kindness just as much as anyone else in this fandom

and for those of us reading: let’s keep supporting our writers!! reblog their work, share the love, and help create a safe and welcoming space for everyone in this fandom 🫶🏻🩷

reblog this post and tag as much people you can, let's spread some love!!!

@80sfilmclub @yeahiveheardofbears-fics @hellfirexhoe @itzakicka @shigarosie @enam3l @itlover8000 @glassbxttless @munsonify @bewilderedbunny @strangerstilinski @rosewaterandivy @wheels-of-despair @hellfirenacht @manicpixiedreamcurl @thornsnvultures @bangaveragewhitewine @the-unforgivenn @urhoneycombwitch @rebelfell @somnambulic-thing @jo-harrington @lucydixon @justmeinadaze @cherrychilli @keeryhours @hauntedfawnn @mystra-midnight @munsonstorm @cacoetheswriting @andvys @elegantpaperoperatormaker @g1rlw1th0n33ye3 @raccoonboywrites @punkrockmlchael @majestyeverlasting @frombeyondthegravez @pyronovas @undead-supernova @honey-flustered @eveatethefruit @lovebugism @munsonbee @madelynraemunson @gaybybirth @fairyysoup @eddiesghxst @thepastdied @alovesongtheywrote @hellfire--cult @ali-r3n @carolmunson @bettyfrommars

[uncodtrollable]

18+ Simon 'Ghost' Riley x f! reader, PIV sex, unprotected sex, rough sex 🌽 links!!!! I repeat,🌽 links!!!! - So this and this just s(creams) Simon Riley to me. Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine

Being with Simon meant spending a good chunk of your day off your feet. Towering above you, he liked to close the distance by gathering you in his thick arms, easily lifting you up so your lips could meet.

He spoiled you with his strength often. He'd hoist you over his shoulder with the same ease it took him to blink, his broad palm playfully coming down on ass as you squeal and kick your feet in delight.

When he feels like he ought to treat you a little sweeter you find yourself being scooped up gently bridal style, carrying you around like the most precious cargo. Like you're nothing more than a petal in the wind.

Every concert you talked him in to, you knew you'd be getting the best spot in the crowd. Always reserved for you would be a place on his shoulders, holding you up so securely to give you a better view.

And hiking together meant the trip back down would be spent piggybacking on Simon at his insistence to keep your sore feet from getting worse.

At any moment you could be whisked up and held dearly, never having to worry if it was too much for him to handle. The hulk that he is, he could lift five of you at once if he pleased.

Yeah. He'd love that.

But what felt best was one he'd pick you up...not so dearly.

"Sssimon OHMYGOD", you screeched when your feet leave the ground so swiftly, his arms locked around your naked middle and his chin digging into the space where your shoulder meets your neck.

"That's better. Can fuck this sweet cunt like she needs now."

You're astounded by the way he does it so causally, both of you completely nude and your feet dangling uselessly as his cock ruts into you with riveting force. "Jeeeesus fucking CHRIST, S-simon what- what are you doing to me?", you keen and gasp, the tops of his thick, pulsing thighs smacking into the back of your soft quivering thighs.

All you have to anchor yourself are his arms and his cock, the latter pounding into you so quickly and deep you swear you can feel his ruddy tip poking your bellybutton from the inside.

Your nails sink into his forearms though neither of you really notice it, the sensations he's forcing on you wracking your poor tingling body. Simon's thrusting remains brute, hips snapping into your body while you remain suspended, drool collecting at the corner of your mouth.

"'s much... 'stoo much...don't fuh-don't fucking stop-p."

Simon grins at the sound of your cock drunken warbling, teeth grazing your pulse point as it beats wildly beneath the thin layer of your dewy skin.

"Got so much more to give you to stop now, sweet'art. Don't you worry about that."

[uncodtrollable]

18+ Simon 'Ghost' Riley x f! reader, PIV sex, unprotected sex, rough sex 🌽 links!!!! I repeat,🌽 links!!!! - So this and this just s(creams) Simon Riley to me. Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine

Being with Simon meant spending a good chunk of your day off your feet. Towering above you, he liked to close the distance by gathering you in his thick arms, easily lifting you up so your lips could meet.

He spoiled you with his strength often. He'd hoist you over his shoulder with the same ease it took him to blink, his broad palm playfully coming down on ass as you squeal and kick your feet in delight.

When he feels like he ought to treat you a little sweeter you find yourself being scooped up gently bridal style, carrying you around like the most precious cargo. Like you're nothing more than a petal in the wind.

Every concert you talked him in to, you knew you'd be getting the best spot in the crowd. Always reserved for you would be a place on his shoulders, holding you up so securely to give you a better view.

And hiking together meant the trip back down would be spent piggybacking on Simon at his insistence to keep your sore feet from getting worse.

At any moment you could be whisked up and held dearly, never having to worry if it was too much for him to handle. The hulk that he is, he could lift five of you at once if he pleased.

Yeah. He'd love that.

But what felt best was one he'd pick you up...not so dearly.

"Sssimon OHMYGOD", you screeched when your feet leave the ground so swiftly, his arms locked around your naked middle and his chin digging into the space where your shoulder meets your neck.

"That's better. Can fuck this sweet cunt like she needs now."

You're astounded by the way he does it so causally, both of you completely nude and your feet dangling uselessly as his cock ruts into you with riveting force. "Jeeeesus fucking CHRIST, S-simon what- what are you doing to me?", you keen and gasp, the tops of his thick, pulsing thighs smacking into the back of your soft quivering thighs.

All you have to anchor yourself are his arms and his cock, the latter pounding into you so quickly and deep you swear you can feel his ruddy tip poking your bellybutton from the inside.

Your nails sink into his forearms though neither of you really notice it, the sensations he's forcing on you wracking your poor tingling body. Simon's thrusting remains brute, hips snapping into your body while you remain suspended, drool collecting at the corner of your mouth.

"'s much... 'stoo much...don't fuh-don't fucking stop-p."

Simon grins at the sound of your cock drunken warbling, teeth grazing your pulse point as it beats wildly beneath the thin layer of your dewy skin.

"Got so much more to give you to stop now, sweet'art. Don't you worry about that."

[maybeyoucanstayheretonight]

18+ Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x f! reader, fluff (my blog is strictly 18+ tho), comfort, Robby gets a much needed massage after a long shift, taking care of our overworked old man. WC:1.2K

A/N: Okay so I liked this idea so much that I had to write it despite the fact that, after some quick research, I've learned that you really shouldn't be walking on anyone's back. Yeah, so don't be doing that irl, k?

(also why did this get slapped with a content label? fuck if I know. This is the tamest thing I've ever written.)

Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine

Getting him in bed had never been a difficult thing to do. Until now.

A barely upright 6 foot mass of very spent muscle and bone, you take him by the hand and urge him on quick before his knees could give out.

You're successful as he reaches the foot of your semi-new four poster bed, falling on his front on to the duvet, face down in the soft, fresh linen that smelled pleasantly of lavender fabric softener. Robby mutters something as you begin to unlace his shoes for him. To his thumping brain he probably thinks his words are coming out as clear as usual but to you with your ears tuned in to reality, it comes out as a muffled grunt. Not something you can decode right now as you pull off his shoes and socks, his feet sore and swollen. The sight makes little pin pricks of sadness sting inside the depths of your chest.

"Alright. Time for the rest."

But he makes no movement, seemingly determined to make undressing him an impossible task for you.

"Come on old man. You can't get in the bath like that", you try again.

Another grunt in reply. Completely unintelligible.

"Robby, honey. Please."

You climb into bed with him, bringing your face close to his where he's got it planted in the sheets, whispering into his ear sweetly while you gently stroke the back of his neck.

"Roooobby. Let's get those creaky bones in the bath, yeah? Nice and hot and bubbly? doesn't that sound good?"

No grunt this time. You worry he's fallen asleep, ready to nudge his shoulder when he turns his head to the side, his cheek smushed against the bed and his tired eyes set on you.

"Hurts."

"Where does it hurt?" You ask, your hand already reaching for his right shoulder. The one that tended to cramp up frequently. The only person he ever let place their hands on it whenever the flare ups happened was you. Only you seemed to know how to loosen those screw tight, knotted up muscles for him. Not even he could get that pain to yield with his own hands.

You've got the gift. Magic fingers in more ways than one.

But his shoulder doesn't seem to be the problem this time when he mutters out a gravelly "m' back" instead.

"Oh."

You're already kicking your house slippers off, straddling Robby's lower back very carefully, weight supported on your knees while you push the back of his shirt and hoodie up so you can get your fingers on his skin.

"Tell me where" you begin to splay your warm fingers on him, fondly tracing a little gathering of freckles by his shoulder blade.

"Everywhere", he answers with a groan.

"How about I start here? work my way from the bottom up?", you offer, thumbs already moving to rub into his lower back.

"Mmm...."

He doesn't give you much to go on so you figure you should keep doing what you think best unless he decides to pipe up and tell you otherwise. So, patiently and with a very careful kind of firmness you begin to work him, so much tight muscle underneath your fingertips, bumps and grooves all about.

You're far from surprised to find the state that he's in. Of course his body would carry so much tension from all the work he does. You suppose you'll let him sleep it off tonight too. You could always drag him to the tub later. And just when you think he might have dozed off, he speaks.

"Need more."

You perk up. "Okay, where?"

"No. Need more."

"Oh!", you think you understand.

"Not firm enough? want me to use my elbows?"

"No. More."

"More?, Robby, I don't?"

"Step on me."

You let loose a long sigh at that, rolling your eyes. "Robby, if you wanted to fool around you could have just told me straight u-"

"Step on my back", he cuts you off.

"What? like- I don't, like, walk on it? I've heard of that but is it really safe?"

Another long winded groan gets blown into the duvet before he answers. You don't take it personally. You know better than that. All it does is make you want to give him some relief even more.

"Yes."

Ah. The short answer.

"Hm...okay. But you'll stop me if it's too much, yeah? baby, I just don't want to crack a vertebra or whatever."

That gets him to snort out a very tired but genuine chuckle, smile lines deepening on his face. It makes you smile too.

"Then I'd die happy. But for now, hands on the posts, sweetheart and let me have it."

Time to see if you've got magic feet too.

You do as you're told, getting on to your bare feet, hand holding firmly on to one of the bed posts. You begin with your left foot, the right still placed on the bed just by the outline of his waist.

For a start, you very carefully press your heel on Robby's lower back, steering clear of his spine. The more pressure you apply the more the man sighs and groans.

It started as you trying to make your man feel better from all the grueling work but you find that somewhere in the middle of figuring out the best way to do it, you've begun to enjoy yourself too. Seeking out all the knotted muscle with the ball of your foot before pressing down and kneading circles on it with your toes and heel had started to feel a little fun even. Almost like some kind of game you'd like for the two of you to play often.

Keeping at it, you switch from one foot to the other, gleaming from the way Robby rewards you with praise for your efforts.

"Sure you've never done this before? no? guess you're just a natural", he smiled, eyes drawn closed, drifting in and out of a light slumber as you give him relief.

You suppose you can't hold off for much longer, genuinely curious yourself to see if it might be more helpful to use both feet like he'd suggested.

"Okay...gonna try both now", you feel like you're warning him more than just letting him know.

Hands holding tight to a bedpost each, you place one foot and then the other on him, balancing yourself so very carefully.

"Christ...that's it. Higher...please."

You're just so relieved not to hear him yell out or struggle beneath you, slowly padding higher up his back, quietly paying very close attention to all the sounds he makes for you, hoping no pained exclamation slips in at any point.

"This is nice", you tell him once you've fallen into a pattern, confidence climbing as you seem to have gotten a hold of this.

"Yeah. I'd offer to return the favor but I'd rather have you as my girlfriend than a patient."

"Pfft. Idiot. You could just use your hands, you know."

"Yeah? think I've got the gift too?."

"You better."

You step back off him some time later, tension flattened and loosened, feet back on the bed when suddenly you feel him take hold of your right foot, gently puling it up to his face where he's able to press a kiss on your ankle.

"Thank you", he smiles up at you.

He sounds so grateful. Looks it too. It feels like sunshine pouring inside your chest through the little pinpricks that'd pierced their way through earlier. All of that sadness and quiet concern now displaced with something warm and wonderful.

"Anytime", you answer, smiling.

[maybeyoucanstayheretonight]

18+ Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x f! reader, fluff (my blog is strictly 18+ tho), comfort, Robby gets a much needed massage after a long shift, taking care of our overworked old man. WC:1.2K

A/N: Okay so I liked this idea so much that I had to write it despite the fact that, after some quick research, I've learned that you really shouldn't be walking on anyone's back. Yeah, so don't be doing that irl, k?

(also why did this get slapped with a content label? fuck if I know. This is the tamest thing I've ever written.)

Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine

Getting him in bed had never been a difficult thing to do. Until now.

A barely upright 6 foot mass of very spent muscle and bone, you take him by the hand and urge him on quick before his knees could give out.

You're successful as he reaches the foot of your semi-new four poster bed, falling on his front on to the duvet, face down in the soft, fresh linen that smelled pleasantly of lavender fabric softener. Robby mutters something as you begin to unlace his shoes for him. To his thumping brain he probably thinks his words are coming out as clear as usual but to you with your ears tuned in to reality, it comes out as a muffled grunt. Not something you can decode right now as you pull off his shoes and socks, his feet sore and swollen. The sight makes little pin pricks of sadness sting inside the depths of your chest.

"Alright. Time for the rest."

But he makes no movement, seemingly determined to make undressing him an impossible task for you.

"Come on old man. You can't get in the bath like that", you try again.

Another grunt in reply. Completely unintelligible.

"Robby, honey. Please."

You climb into bed with him, bringing your face close to his where he's got it planted in the sheets, whispering into his ear sweetly while you gently stroke the back of his neck.

"Roooobby. Let's get those creaky bones in the bath, yeah? Nice and hot and bubbly? doesn't that sound good?"

No grunt this time. You worry he's fallen asleep, ready to nudge his shoulder when he turns his head to the side, his cheek smushed against the bed and his tired eyes set on you.

"Hurts."

"Where does it hurt?" You ask, your hand already reaching for his right shoulder. The one that tended to cramp up frequently. The only person he ever let place their hands on it whenever the flare ups happened was you. Only you seemed to know how to loosen those screw tight, knotted up muscles for him. Not even he could get that pain to yield with his own hands.

You've got the gift. Magic fingers in more ways than one.

But his shoulder doesn't seem to be the problem this time when he mutters out a gravelly "m' back" instead.

"Oh."

You're already kicking your house slippers off, straddling Robby's lower back very carefully, weight supported on your knees while you push the back of his shirt and hoodie up so you can get your fingers on his skin.

"Tell me where" you begin to splay your warm fingers on him, fondly tracing a little gathering of freckles by his shoulder blade.

"Everywhere", he answers with a groan.

"How about I start here? work my way from the bottom up?", you offer, thumbs already moving to rub into his lower back.

"Mmm...."

He doesn't give you much to go on so you figure you should keep doing what you think best unless he decides to pipe up and tell you otherwise. So, patiently and with a very careful kind of firmness you begin to work him, so much tight muscle underneath your fingertips, bumps and grooves all about.

You're far from surprised to find the state that he's in. Of course his body would carry so much tension from all the work he does. You suppose you'll let him sleep it off tonight too. You could always drag him to the tub later. And just when you think he might have dozed off, he speaks.

"Need more."

You perk up. "Okay, where?"

"No. Need more."

"Oh!", you think you understand.

"Not firm enough? want me to use my elbows?"

"No. More."

"More?, Robby, I don't?"

"Step on me."

You let loose a long sigh at that, rolling your eyes. "Robby, if you wanted to fool around you could have just told me straight u-"

"Step on my back", he cuts you off.

"What? like- I don't, like, walk on it? I've heard of that but is it really safe?"

Another long winded groan gets blown into the duvet before he answers. You don't take it personally. You know better than that. All it does is make you want to give him some relief even more.

"Yes."

Ah. The short answer.

"Hm...okay. But you'll stop me if it's too much, yeah? baby, I just don't want to crack a vertebra or whatever."

That gets him to snort out a very tired but genuine chuckle, smile lines deepening on his face. It makes you smile too.

"Then I'd die happy. But for now, hands on the posts, sweetheart and let me have it."

Time to see if you've got magic feet too.

You do as you're told, getting on to your bare feet, hand holding firmly on to one of the bed posts. You begin with your left foot, the right still placed on the bed just by the outline of his waist.

For a start, you very carefully press your heel on Robby's lower back, steering clear of his spine. The more pressure you apply the more the man sighs and groans.

It started as you trying to make your man feel better from all the grueling work but you find that somewhere in the middle of figuring out the best way to do it, you've begun to enjoy yourself too. Seeking out all the knotted muscle with the ball of your foot before pressing down and kneading circles on it with your toes and heel had started to feel a little fun even. Almost like some kind of game you'd like for the two of you to play often.

Keeping at it, you switch from one foot to the other, gleaming from the way Robby rewards you with praise for your efforts.

"Sure you've never done this before? no? guess you're just a natural", he smiled, eyes drawn closed, drifting in and out of a light slumber as you give him relief.

You suppose you can't hold off for much longer, genuinely curious yourself to see if it might be more helpful to use both feet like he'd suggested.

"Okay...gonna try both now", you feel like you're warning him more than just letting him know.

Hands holding tight to a bedpost each, you place one foot and then the other on him, balancing yourself so very carefully.

"Christ...that's it. Higher...please."

You're just so relieved not to hear him yell out or struggle beneath you, slowly padding higher up his back, quietly paying very close attention to all the sounds he makes for you, hoping no pained exclamation slips in at any point.

"This is nice", you tell him once you've fallen into a pattern, confidence climbing as you seem to have gotten a hold of this.

"Yeah. I'd offer to return the favor but I'd rather have you as my girlfriend than a patient."

"Pfft. Idiot. You could just use your hands, you know."

"Yeah? think I've got the gift too?."

"You better."

You step back off him some time later, tension flattened and loosened, feet back on the bed when suddenly you feel him take hold of your right foot, gently puling it up to his face where he's able to press a kiss on your ankle.

"Thank you", he smiles up at you.

He sounds so grateful. Looks it too. It feels like sunshine pouring inside your chest through the little pinpricks that'd pierced their way through earlier. All of that sadness and quiet concern now displaced with something warm and wonderful.

"Anytime", you answer, smiling.

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, thigh fucking, lil bit of nipple play, public, established relationship, new relationship WC:2.3K

A/N: Dug deep into my drafts to find this one again. I wanted to write about them going through that phase in new relationship where things are still a bit awkward and our dear reader is trying her best to pry out of her shell when it comes to initiating sex.

Enjoy!

Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine

You told Eddie you'd meet him in the woods after he was done dealing, softening your tone into something extra sweet when he offered to come pick you up instead. A few dulcet words more over the phone was all it took to convince him that it would be more convenient to meet him there than what he'd kindly suggested.

It was a lie. A harmless one, you rationalized

Resorting to it was preferable. A much easier alternative than admitting that the lonely setting of the quiet woods served you perfectly in order to feed your new obsession — making your boyfriend cum.

Things were still fresh in your relationship. Years of knowing each other should have assured you that you could always be straight forward with Eddie, never needing to skirt around what you really meant or have to choose your words carefully but things were different now.

And in the best way.

Only two months into being a couple, you kept feeling that rush. A pleasant sweet and sour mix of excitement and bashfulness whenever you wanted to be intimate with him. You weren't a shy person by nature. You had that and more in common with Eddie but this dynamic was new to you. Both of you. So much so that you found yourself having to rebuild your confidence when it came to initiating sex. And god, was it rewarding when you did.

You had liked him in secret for so long but now that he was yours, Eddie instilled a hunger in you that you'd never known before. A wild, almost rabid urge you had to rein in for fear you might wear the poor boy out given how often you wanted him.

You wanted to spoil him rotten. But you also wanted to get it right.

It wasn't the easiest thing stumbling through all the endearing hiccups and moments of awkwardness that inevitably follow when best friends become lovers, but you persisted if that meant learning what he liked. Even if there had been more of those moments than you would have liked.

Many times you'd bumped foreheads and chins when you went in for a kiss. Sometimes with bruising force, tender plum purple swelling blooming the next day. Other times you'd lost your footing, having slipped some stray item of clothing on his bedroom floor, pulling him down with you to crash in a heap. One time you'd even kneed him in the groin on accident when you attempted to straddle him in his van, fat tears wetting his eyes.

You cringed and apologized every time it happened and every time he laughed through the pain, completely undeterred and kissing you back harder. Kissing the insecurity away until you started to discover parts of a rhythm that seemed to be working. All you had to figure out now was how to put them in the right order so that your touches had time to linger. Until you could find out exactly how he liked to be touched and where. Without inflicting injury.

You haven't yet confessed to him about how much you like making him cum.

Up to now, you'd done it with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — most times while bumping around in the back of his van.

But now you had something new in mind.

****

You stopped taking notice of the muffled crunching of dry leaves underneath your shoes and the chittering of squirrels scurrying along bark and branch when you found Eddie, everything else fading into the background as he lit up at the sight of you.

It was impossible not to grow warm all over when you sat down next to him on that worn wooden bench, a quick press of his lips against yours in greeting making the back of your neck prickle with goosebumps.

This part felt easy. Shoulders grazing, fingers intertwined as he held your hand in his while you spoke, trying to decide what movie you'd like to go see together. All part of your plan to stall things.

That swirling rush didn't make itself known until the sight of his lips mere inches from your own becomes too tempting and breathing in his scent was no longer enough to tide you over. Your throat turns scratchy and dry as you forced out a giggle that wavers, trying to disguise your unsettled nerves. The feeling only intensifies when you restlessly begin to push back stray strands of hair that weren't really there to distract from the way Eddie's gaze is making you feel.

As weird as it was to feel like this with someone whose known you at your worst and best, you liked it. The anticipation, the fluttering butterfly wings inside your ribcage, even the way your palms would sometimes sweat when he leaned in close and his eyes trailed down to your lips. Because it meant it was okay to do all those things now. No more having to lie about the feelings you had for each other. No more having to bite back disappointment whenever you went home unkissed.

You couldn't wait any longer, raising you free hand to gather the front of his shirt, knee bumping clumsily against his as you shift closer but you don't care about that, pulling him closer until your kissing him again.

It's no quick peck this time, lips slanting over his, lazy but hungry, teeth playfully nipping at his bottom lip, tongue gliding against his when he delves a little deeper into your mouth.

You grow more confident when you find that his heartbeat matches the rapid thumping of your own, flattening the hand you tugged him by the shirt with against his chest to feel it beneath your palm before pulling away.

"Maybe...", you trail, breath short and eyes lost in Eddie's heady deep brown stare. "Maybe we skip the movie tonight?, you suggest with a whisper, so sweet you could wrap a dainty bow around your tone.

"Y-yeah that sounds- we could- yeah", your boyfriend sputters back, nodding quickly and more times than necessary, making his frizzy fringe flutter against his forehead.

It didn't take long to settle in Eddie's lap after that, happily reveling in the way he mouthed eagerly at your neck, his hands smoothing up and down your bare thighs, teasing the edge of your skirt.

"Y' like it?", you manage to sigh out dreamily, casting your gaze down at your skirt so that he knows what you're referring to. You'd started wearing them more often once you starting going out, liking how you felt in them and liking how he made you feel in them even more.

"Isn't that obvious?", he flashed you an effortless, megawatt smile, the kind that made you soften and melt even on your worst days as he ground his bulge up against your core.

"Love it when you show these off", he added with a groan, fingers splaying over your thighs, squeezing the plush flesh appreciatively. Like there was no better place his hands could be than on your body.

The nerves have receded now. No awkward self consciousness holding you back like chains. Nothing but want and desire taking over completely.

"Good, because I wanna try something", you lift yourself up from his lap, his hands slipping up to your waist as you reached underneath your skirt to hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties.

Eddie watches attentively, big bambi brown eyes trained on the way your skirt bunches up around your wrists, riding up dangerously high, enough to catch a few fleeting glimpses of your bare pussy underneath.

Rouge pink lace slips down your thighs, soft and girly, spying the wetness lying in the pretty cotton gusset before you get your underwear over your shoes and off.

"Hold these for me?", you winked, tucking them into the front pocket of his jeans.

You're never going to see those panties in a decent state ever again. If anything, you're only making the collection of your dirty panties hidden under his mattress even bigger. Not that you minded.

Leaning in, you're able to distract him with another kiss, sucking and biting on his plump lower lip while you pop open the button on his jeans, zip easing down slowly as you reach inside.

Hand slipping down the front of his boxers, you're able to gently pull his cock out into view, stiff and hot as your fingers wrap around it and give him a few tugs.

"Okay...just...let me..."

It was all so clear in your head, a little less sure about it all in reality as you begin to position yourself on Eddie.

Sitting sideways in his lap, you manage to carefully guide his cock, slipping the twitching appendage between your thighs before pulling your skirt up high enough for the glistening pink head to peek into view.

From afar it probably looks innocent enough.

Well, it doesn't look obscene. Just a handsy couple at most, the naughty truth mostly concealed so long as no one gets too close.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, baby?", he asks following a thick gulp, his eyes darting between your lap and your face.

"I wanna make you feel good."

It's easier this way. Better than if you had him snake his cock between your thighs from behind. This way your eyes weren't hidden from each other, allowing you to admire the way his cheeks turn a pretty peachy pink. You rest your own cheek against his shoulder too, savoring every grunt and moan that tumbles from his lips every time you undulate your hips, your inner thighs growing hot and sticky.

The excitement makes your own arousal flow in stringy, slippery slick, coating your thighs to lube you, Eddie's drippy precum helping too.

"Y' know, you d-don't have to overthink it every time you want to get physical", he whispers into your hair between deep breaths.

Your eyes go from half lidded to wide and alert.

"You knew?"

"Yeah", he admits, pressing a tender kiss on your temple.

"Why didn't you say anything?", you ask between your own shallow breaths.

He shrugs, hips still thrusting up into your thighs, not a falter in his pace. "Didn't want to spook you. I like it when you want to take charge...I love it when you show how much you want me".

The most adoring smile takes over your lips.

"You're sure? cus it's like...all the time. I think about us together like this...a lot."

"Yeah? me too. I keep trying to be a gentleman and all but you've been working me up for years, sweetheart. Wanna make you feel good all the time too."

Eddie's earnestness always had an effect on you that never seemed to dim with the way it makes you feel like you're lighting up from the inside out.

"So, you gonna let me, pretty girl? no more holding back?"

You nod, "no more holding back, Eddie."

With one hand firm on your waist, he uses the other to pull up the front of your top, the thin lacy bra underneath pulled up with it so that he can get to your breasts, nipples peaked and begging for his touch.

Your lips fall open for the two fingers he gently pushes into your mouth, dutifully sucking and wetting them well because you know what he means to do, releasing them so that he can tease your nipples.

The wet pads of his fingers circle a sensitive nipple, both of you watching closely as it pulls tight all the way, perky little bud at the mercy of his touch.

"Shit- Eddie, that's feels really nice"

"Yeah?"

He makes sure to switch to the other one too, smearing your saliva along your peaks, pinching them hard enough to make you whine and pout.

"Fuck, baby look at you- don't think I'm going to last much longer with you in my lap like this."

This close, you can smell your shampoo in his hair from the night before, his cologne on his neck and the subtle musk of his sweat as it beads on his skin. It makes you want to lean in closer if such a thing was possible, breathe it in deeper, wrap your teeth around him and make him whine.

"Please- want to watch you cum", you gasp.

Eddie squeezes your breast, bouncing you in his lap while you keep working your hips, thighs stating to burn from from tensing your muscles but you don't dare stop.

"Tell me it feels good", you spit out urgently.

"Feels too fucking good- having my girl's thighs wrapped around my cock like this."

"My girl". Of course it makes your heart swell to hear it, especially in that desperate tone.

"Never going to get enough of this- of you."

"Eddie..."

Curling your fingers into his collar, you hold on tight, so damn tight as your clit begins to tingle and throb on the edge of your orgasm.

It's messy when Eddie's hits at the same time — opaque spurts shooting high enough to hit the underside of your tits, trailing down your belly to join the most of his cum pooling between your thighs. So much more than you thought you could wring out of him that it fills you with a sort of pride knowing you'd made him do it without any penetration.

"Spread your legs, babe", is the first thing he says to you when he's caught his breath, already starting to shift beneath you.

You whine as if to protest and say, 'why so soon?' when words fall short, reluctantly letting him pull your sticky legs apart to tuck himself back inside. It's when his hand slips back between your thighs to tease your clit that you yelp delightedly, his tacky fingers flirting with your entrance.

"We're going to be here for a while. Once isn't enough for me either. Need to watch my pretty girl cum again...and again...and again...."

[cherrychilli]

18+ Eddie Munson x f! reader, thigh fucking, lil bit of nipple play, public, established relationship, new relationship WC:2.3K

A/N: Dug deep into my drafts to find this one again. I wanted to write about them going through that phase in new relationship where things are still a bit awkward and our dear reader is trying her best to pry out of her shell when it comes to initiating sex.

Enjoy!

Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine

You told Eddie you'd meet him in the woods after he was done dealing, softening your tone into something extra sweet when he offered to come pick you up instead. A few dulcet words more over the phone was all it took to convince him that it would be more convenient to meet him there than what he'd kindly suggested.

It was a lie. A harmless one, you rationalized

Resorting to it was preferable. A much easier alternative than admitting that the lonely setting of the quiet woods served you perfectly in order to feed your new obsession — making your boyfriend cum.

Things were still fresh in your relationship. Years of knowing each other should have assured you that you could always be straight forward with Eddie, never needing to skirt around what you really meant or have to choose your words carefully but things were different now.

And in the best way.

Only two months into being a couple, you kept feeling that rush. A pleasant sweet and sour mix of excitement and bashfulness whenever you wanted to be intimate with him. You weren't a shy person by nature. You had that and more in common with Eddie but this dynamic was new to you. Both of you. So much so that you found yourself having to rebuild your confidence when it came to initiating sex. And god, was it rewarding when you did.

You had liked him in secret for so long but now that he was yours, Eddie instilled a hunger in you that you'd never known before. A wild, almost rabid urge you had to rein in for fear you might wear the poor boy out given how often you wanted him.

You wanted to spoil him rotten. But you also wanted to get it right.

It wasn't the easiest thing stumbling through all the endearing hiccups and moments of awkwardness that inevitably follow when best friends become lovers, but you persisted if that meant learning what he liked. Even if there had been more of those moments than you would have liked.

Many times you'd bumped foreheads and chins when you went in for a kiss. Sometimes with bruising force, tender plum purple swelling blooming the next day. Other times you'd lost your footing, having slipped some stray item of clothing on his bedroom floor, pulling him down with you to crash in a heap. One time you'd even kneed him in the groin on accident when you attempted to straddle him in his van, fat tears wetting his eyes.

You cringed and apologized every time it happened and every time he laughed through the pain, completely undeterred and kissing you back harder. Kissing the insecurity away until you started to discover parts of a rhythm that seemed to be working. All you had to figure out now was how to put them in the right order so that your touches had time to linger. Until you could find out exactly how he liked to be touched and where. Without inflicting injury.

You haven't yet confessed to him about how much you like making him cum.

Up to now, you'd done it with your hands, your mouth, your cunt — most times while bumping around in the back of his van.

But now you had something new in mind.

****

You stopped taking notice of the muffled crunching of dry leaves underneath your shoes and the chittering of squirrels scurrying along bark and branch when you found Eddie, everything else fading into the background as he lit up at the sight of you.

It was impossible not to grow warm all over when you sat down next to him on that worn wooden bench, a quick press of his lips against yours in greeting making the back of your neck prickle with goosebumps.

This part felt easy. Shoulders grazing, fingers intertwined as he held your hand in his while you spoke, trying to decide what movie you'd like to go see together. All part of your plan to stall things.

That swirling rush didn't make itself known until the sight of his lips mere inches from your own becomes too tempting and breathing in his scent was no longer enough to tide you over. Your throat turns scratchy and dry as you forced out a giggle that wavers, trying to disguise your unsettled nerves. The feeling only intensifies when you restlessly begin to push back stray strands of hair that weren't really there to distract from the way Eddie's gaze is making you feel.

As weird as it was to feel like this with someone whose known you at your worst and best, you liked it. The anticipation, the fluttering butterfly wings inside your ribcage, even the way your palms would sometimes sweat when he leaned in close and his eyes trailed down to your lips. Because it meant it was okay to do all those things now. No more having to lie about the feelings you had for each other. No more having to bite back disappointment whenever you went home unkissed.

You couldn't wait any longer, raising you free hand to gather the front of his shirt, knee bumping clumsily against his as you shift closer but you don't care about that, pulling him closer until your kissing him again.

It's no quick peck this time, lips slanting over his, lazy but hungry, teeth playfully nipping at his bottom lip, tongue gliding against his when he delves a little deeper into your mouth.

You grow more confident when you find that his heartbeat matches the rapid thumping of your own, flattening the hand you tugged him by the shirt with against his chest to feel it beneath your palm before pulling away.

"Maybe...", you trail, breath short and eyes lost in Eddie's heady deep brown stare. "Maybe we skip the movie tonight?, you suggest with a whisper, so sweet you could wrap a dainty bow around your tone.

"Y-yeah that sounds- we could- yeah", your boyfriend sputters back, nodding quickly and more times than necessary, making his frizzy fringe flutter against his forehead.

It didn't take long to settle in Eddie's lap after that, happily reveling in the way he mouthed eagerly at your neck, his hands smoothing up and down your bare thighs, teasing the edge of your skirt.

"Y' like it?", you manage to sigh out dreamily, casting your gaze down at your skirt so that he knows what you're referring to. You'd started wearing them more often once you starting going out, liking how you felt in them and liking how he made you feel in them even more.

"Isn't that obvious?", he flashed you an effortless, megawatt smile, the kind that made you soften and melt even on your worst days as he ground his bulge up against your core.

"Love it when you show these off", he added with a groan, fingers splaying over your thighs, squeezing the plush flesh appreciatively. Like there was no better place his hands could be than on your body.

The nerves have receded now. No awkward self consciousness holding you back like chains. Nothing but want and desire taking over completely.

"Good, because I wanna try something", you lift yourself up from his lap, his hands slipping up to your waist as you reached underneath your skirt to hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties.

Eddie watches attentively, big bambi brown eyes trained on the way your skirt bunches up around your wrists, riding up dangerously high, enough to catch a few fleeting glimpses of your bare pussy underneath.

Rouge pink lace slips down your thighs, soft and girly, spying the wetness lying in the pretty cotton gusset before you get your underwear over your shoes and off.

"Hold these for me?", you winked, tucking them into the front pocket of his jeans.

You're never going to see those panties in a decent state ever again. If anything, you're only making the collection of your dirty panties hidden under his mattress even bigger. Not that you minded.

Leaning in, you're able to distract him with another kiss, sucking and biting on his plump lower lip while you pop open the button on his jeans, zip easing down slowly as you reach inside.

Hand slipping down the front of his boxers, you're able to gently pull his cock out into view, stiff and hot as your fingers wrap around it and give him a few tugs.

"Okay...just...let me..."

It was all so clear in your head, a little less sure about it all in reality as you begin to position yourself on Eddie.

Sitting sideways in his lap, you manage to carefully guide his cock, slipping the twitching appendage between your thighs before pulling your skirt up high enough for the glistening pink head to peek into view.

From afar it probably looks innocent enough.

Well, it doesn't look obscene. Just a handsy couple at most, the naughty truth mostly concealed so long as no one gets too close.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, baby?", he asks following a thick gulp, his eyes darting between your lap and your face.

"I wanna make you feel good."

It's easier this way. Better than if you had him snake his cock between your thighs from behind. This way your eyes weren't hidden from each other, allowing you to admire the way his cheeks turn a pretty peachy pink. You rest your own cheek against his shoulder too, savoring every grunt and moan that tumbles from his lips every time you undulate your hips, your inner thighs growing hot and sticky.

The excitement makes your own arousal flow in stringy, slippery slick, coating your thighs to lube you, Eddie's drippy precum helping too.

"Y' know, you d-don't have to overthink it every time you want to get physical", he whispers into your hair between deep breaths.

Your eyes go from half lidded to wide and alert.

"You knew?"

"Yeah", he admits, pressing a tender kiss on your temple.

"Why didn't you say anything?", you ask between your own shallow breaths.

He shrugs, hips still thrusting up into your thighs, not a falter in his pace. "Didn't want to spook you. I like it when you want to take charge...I love it when you show how much you want me".

The most adoring smile takes over your lips.

"You're sure? cus it's like...all the time. I think about us together like this...a lot."

"Yeah? me too. I keep trying to be a gentleman and all but you've been working me up for years, sweetheart. Wanna make you feel good all the time too."

Eddie's earnestness always had an effect on you that never seemed to dim with the way it makes you feel like you're lighting up from the inside out.

"So, you gonna let me, pretty girl? no more holding back?"

You nod, "no more holding back, Eddie."

With one hand firm on your waist, he uses the other to pull up the front of your top, the thin lacy bra underneath pulled up with it so that he can get to your breasts, nipples peaked and begging for his touch.

Your lips fall open for the two fingers he gently pushes into your mouth, dutifully sucking and wetting them well because you know what he means to do, releasing them so that he can tease your nipples.

The wet pads of his fingers circle a sensitive nipple, both of you watching closely as it pulls tight all the way, perky little bud at the mercy of his touch.

"Shit- Eddie, that's feels really nice"

"Yeah?"

He makes sure to switch to the other one too, smearing your saliva along your peaks, pinching them hard enough to make you whine and pout.

"Fuck, baby look at you- don't think I'm going to last much longer with you in my lap like this."

This close, you can smell your shampoo in his hair from the night before, his cologne on his neck and the subtle musk of his sweat as it beads on his skin. It makes you want to lean in closer if such a thing was possible, breathe it in deeper, wrap your teeth around him and make him whine.

"Please- want to watch you cum", you gasp.

Eddie squeezes your breast, bouncing you in his lap while you keep working your hips, thighs stating to burn from from tensing your muscles but you don't dare stop.

"Tell me it feels good", you spit out urgently.

"Feels too fucking good- having my girl's thighs wrapped around my cock like this."

"My girl". Of course it makes your heart swell to hear it, especially in that desperate tone.

"Never going to get enough of this- of you."

"Eddie..."

Curling your fingers into his collar, you hold on tight, so damn tight as your clit begins to tingle and throb on the edge of your orgasm.

It's messy when Eddie's hits at the same time — opaque spurts shooting high enough to hit the underside of your tits, trailing down your belly to join the most of his cum pooling between your thighs. So much more than you thought you could wring out of him that it fills you with a sort of pride knowing you'd made him do it without any penetration.

"Spread your legs, babe", is the first thing he says to you when he's caught his breath, already starting to shift beneath you.

You whine as if to protest and say, 'why so soon?' when words fall short, reluctantly letting him pull your sticky legs apart to tuck himself back inside. It's when his hand slips back between your thighs to tease your clit that you yelp delightedly, his tacky fingers flirting with your entrance.

"We're going to be here for a while. Once isn't enough for me either. Need to watch my pretty girl cum again...and again...and again...."

[maybeyoucanstayheretonight]

18+ Dr. Michael 'Robby' Robinavitch x f! reader, anesthesia induced loopy nonsense, strong allusions to oral sex(f), implied oral sex (f), one mention of 'daddy'

Summary: You've been keeping your crush on your Doctor under wraps but when he comes by to check on you after your surgery, the truth slips out while you're hopped up on the good stuff.

Divider credit: @/cursed-carmine

It was a minor procedure. Simple and quick with the surgery only taking an hour to complete.

The first thing you remember seeing after waking up is the ceiling lights casting its bone white brightness down onto you as you lay on the gurney just outside the operating room. It's cold when your surgeon comes by to check on you. Trying to pull the thin, starchy sheet up to your chin, you do your best to follow along, sleepily nodding as she directs your attention to the little specimen bottle containing the tissue that'd been skillfully removed from your body.

Through the opaque plastic you can make out different lumpy shades of pink, red and yellow, strange that it doesn't strike you as gory to look at. You give it one final glance before you're being wheeled back to your room, mumbling out a drowsy 'bye-bye' to that little part of you forever.

And that's the most coherent you would be for the next few hours.

During those hours of being under observation, your friends couldn't get enough. Phones out, prompting you with all kinds of questions as they video everything you try to say back, so giddy to show it to you later and have a harder, collective laugh over it.

Audra and Claire would have to lower their phones however when Dr. Robby came in, smiling politely at the man as he sets his big hands on the bedside railing, a smile of his own directed at you.

"So, how are we feeling?", he starts, already pulling at his stethoscope from where it was slung around his neck.

Up until voicing himself you hadn't even noticed him entering the room, drawing a little jolt out of you as if he'd managed to stealthily sneak up on you undetected.

But that millisecond of fright is completely overtaken by your excitement when you see who it is that's come to check up on you.

"Eeh! Doctor Daddy, it's youuu!"

Audra and Claire sit frozen in shocked silence.

This is nowhere near the first time they've heard you refer to Robby as such, the two of them first acquainting with the knowledge of your crush just minutes after you blew up the group chat following your first consultation with him.

So, my Doctor's a total dilf.

Is how it had all started.

But never had you breathed a hint of your affection for him during any of your checkups, even after finding out that he had neither a kid or a wife of his own.

A completely unspoken attraction. Until now.

Robby is the first to break the silence by laughing it off, ever the professional despite the way his cheeks have started to pink up.

"Anesthesia will make you feel like you're singing the national anthem as good as Whitney did. Very common. She'll come out of it in a little while. Nothing to worry about".

"Oh good", your friends answer in unison, both trying to appear as apologetic as possible for your loopy behavior between little snorts of mostly contained laughter.

"Alright then. Let's see how you're holding up, okay?", he says to you.

He leans down to check your heartbeat, slipping the diaphragm just below the neckline of your hospital gown as the chilly metal cools on your skin.

You blink at him as he listens carefully for anything out of the ordinary, flexing your toes restlessly under the sheets. You're pretty much staring at him, tempted to reach for the tubing of his stethoscope and pull his face down to yours.

But that's not what happens. Instead, something worse occurs.

You decide, for what reason even you don't know, to reach for his face with one hand, cupping his chin in your palm while your thumb presses into one cheek and the rest of your fingers squish into the other.

Everyone else's eyes go wide.

"This face....I love this faceeeeee" you drawl, scratching your nails along the grain of his thick beard.

"Oh shi-, Doctor we're so sorry-", Claire leaps up from her chair, Audra following suit as they try to get you to release his face but you're surprisingly quick to keep them at length by stretching your free arm out in their direction.

"Nooo...I love this face...", you whine again, your lips pushing out into a pout as you stare into Robby's slightly unnerved eyes.

"I want to sit on it".

No one says anything for a few painful seconds, your hand slowly turning jelly and slipping back down to plop in your lap. Robby is free, bringing a hand of his own up to rub at his cheeks. Your hold on him hadn't exactly been gentle.

"Alright then...let's watch her for another hour and hopefully by then we should be able to get you all on your way home".

****

Audra had managed to catch it all on camera. Well, just the audio. Her phone had been placed in her lap, unaware it was still recording when Dr. Robby had first walked in for the check up.

There was no other way to put it.

It was so grossly inappropriate. A fucking train wreck. What the fuck had you been thinking touching the man like that and saying all those things to him?

He was your Doctor. Someone who had earned your trust and put you at ease about your condition, dampening your worries with the way he treated you so considerately during your consultations. Crush aside, he'd proven himself to you quickly. Reliable, prompt and clearly caring. He deserved respect and your gratitude. Not some horny, touchy little patient making advances on him quite literally in the middle of him saving lives.

Your stomach flipped and you felt ill with embarrassment as you curled into yourself on your couch, your friends on the other hand, more entertained by the 'funny side' of it all.

"This is serious, guys. How the hell am I supposed to go see him again? I'd rather step on a nail than have to look him in the face after saying all that".

"You don't have to look him in the face...just sit on it".

Claire begins to cackle while Audra dodges a couch cushion you launch her way, burying your warm turning warmer face in your hands.

"Fuck me".

****

The memory hadn't left you for more than a month now. Not even when your friends had stopped bringing it up. Not even after you'd decided to consult a new Doctor all the way across town.

Dr. Andrews.

Sure, he was a competent Doctor. Professional and kind. A wonderful combination in any health practitioner.

But he was no Doctor Robby Robinavitch.

Sometimes you felt this kind of pull whenever you took the bus to work, passing the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center and wishing you could walk in knowing he was in there somewhere.

It was like someone had managed to wedge a little Dr. Robby inside your skull through some unseen crack. Only a couple of inches tall but pressing down relentlessly on your frontal lobe to tsunami your every other thought with him.

So much so that you had to do something about it.

An hour later you were dressed. Heels, make up, perfume, little black dress and a matching bag on your shoulder and you were ready to hit up a bar.

You needed someone else to suck up your attention. Someone new. Someone you hadn't already declared to with zero subtlety about how much you'd like to take a seat on his face.

A half hour of being seated at the bar and on your second Mai Tai, you'd already turned down two men. One so sickeningly braggadocios in his designer suit and watch that you didn't give a shit about besides wanting to spill your drink all over it, and the other genius who'd forgotten to take his wedding ring off before trying to approach you.

You sat there while others around you seemed to be pairing up, thoughts of switching to something stronger clinking around in your head like the little shards of crushed ice in your glass when a familiar voice manages to make its way to you over the buzzing chatter and music.

"So, it kind of hurt my feelings when you didn't come back. Something I said?".

For a moment, all you can do is gawk at Doctor Robby as he takes a seat beside you, that small but earnest smile that you've missed on his lips again.

So, it was no accident that you'd picked a bar close to the Trauma Center. But the possibility of him actually showing up like this? you couldn't have planned it better.

"Actually, it was more because of something I said", you admit with an embarrassed chuckle, your toes curling in your shoes.

"Oh yeah? I don't recall".

You know he's teasing you only this time you don't seem to mind all that much. Seeing him out here in a non professional setting is nice. He almost seems a little naked without his stethoscope and his hospital ID clipped to him.

"I'm uh, I'm really sorry. You were so nice and I, well. I'm really sorry if I made you uncomfortable", you tell him, taking this opportunity to apologize earnestly.

Robby looks at you. Pondering. Smiling.

"So, I take it you've been seeing another Doctor?".

Oh wow, he's really determined to not make this easy for you, huh?

"So, um. Yes".

"Hm, I see", he turns to the bartender briefly, placing an order for a gin before he's turning back to you.

"You look well. I'm glad you've recovered nicely from your surgery".

"Oh yeah. Been healing up nice without any problems", you assure him.

"So, I guess we could say our doctor-patient relationship is in the can for good".

You chuckle.

"Yup, I guess so", you confirm.

"...Good. So, I just wanted to say...your uh, feelings? yeah, they're not one sided".

"O-oh?", you nearly stumble backwards off the barstool.

"Yeah. Seeing you all those times when you came in? got to the point I was looking forward to you showing up. Y' know, everything in the ED happens at breakneck speed. Sometimes literally...but when it was just us? I don't know. Things slowed down and it was nice. I...I couldn't get enough of the way you looked at me to be very honest. You're very beautiful too, if you uh, didn't already know".

He's yet to meet your eye again, having trained his stare on his glass in a way that told you he was more nervous than he seemed.

Watching him take charge around the ED, he never struck you as the nervous type. It's like he's already letting you in, trusting you enough to let you glimpse the man with his guard down.

"...And I have this feeling about you. Really can't shake it. You've been on my mind all month to be honest", he looks to you again.

"...you've been on mine too", you admit, somehow unaware of the way your hand begins to inch closer to his from where they rest on the bar.

"So, I don't want to be too forward or anything but. My place is not too far from here and, if it's okay with you, I'd really like to offer you the best seat in the house".