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kjupchurch-xx · 3 months ago

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Conflicting Feelings

Author's Note: Let me start this by saying I mean absolutely zero disrespect to Hugh's ex wife with this story. I'm just coming up with ideas for chapters and trying to be creative, so please do not hate me for the story. I got this inspiration from a song I'd been listening to, so once again, no disrespect meant for his previous marriage or his ex-wife. This story is pure fiction and just meant to satisfy your need for Hugh Jackman fluff.

Hugh and I have been friends for many years, despite our age gap of 20+ years. He was married to Debbora Furness and had been for the past 27 years. Our friendship was a platonic one, but we'd always had this strange chemistry. Hugh has been extremely loyal to Deb over the course of their marriage, despite his flirtatious nature. I'd love to tell you that I didn't have a thing for him, but I'd be lying to you. With that being said, I respect his marriage and I know my boundaries, which I'd never cross.

I was sitting in my hotel room in California, it was coming up on 7pm, the sun starting to slowly sink down producing a beautiful cotton candy sky that could be seen from my suite's balcony that overlooked the city. I was getting ready for a date with a musician, who shall remain unnamed. I heard my phone ring from across the room, walking over and picking it up, expecting it to be my date, I noticed it was Hugh.

"Hey Hugh, I can't-" I began but was immediately cut off by him sounding frantic, "I really need you right now." He said with a shaky, almost hoarse voice.

My voice grew concerned, "Is everything okay?"

"Just send me your room number and the name of the hotel. We'll talk there." He said quickly before hanging up.

What in the actual hell is going on? Did someone die? Is it cancer? I mean what is going on? A thousand thoughts raced through my mind as I quickly typed out my suite number and hotel into a text and sent it to him. Within minutes I heard a knock on my suite door. I ran up, opening the door to see a disheveled looking Hugh Jackman looking frantic. I quickly pulled him inside my room and he pulled me into a hug. I stood before him frozen in place, slowly wrapping my arms around him.

"What's going on? Are you okay? Are Oscar and Ava okay? Is Deb-" I began to hit him with rapid fire questions trying to understand what's causing this kind of emotion from the man I'd known to always be so happy, go lucky. He cut me off, "She's gone. Deb's gone." He said, his voice trembling.

I gasped in shock as my eyes widened, "What? What happened?" I asked, rubbing his back, leading him to the tan leather love seat that sat in the living room area of the suite. I'd never seen him this emotional outside of his acting.

As we sat on the sofa, he continued holding me as if I were his security blanket. I repeated, "What happened?" causing him to look up at me with broken eyes.

He covered his face, "She told me she wanted a divorce. She's moving her stuff out of the house and wants to be gone before I get back." I bit my bottom lip in disbelief, "Did she say why?" I asked trying to process what I was being told.

He took a shaky breath before looking at me, "She says we've fallen out of love and are two different people now that 27 years have gone by. She says we want two entirely different things out of life."

I shrugged, placing my hand on his knee. "Is she wrong?" I asked softly, looking at him, continuing to tremble with each word he spoke.

He sighed, running his hand through his messy hair, "She's not wrong."

I blinked, looking at him, taken back by his response, "What do you mean she's not wrong? What did you do?"

He took a deep breath and began looking down, refusing to look me in the eyes and began shaking his head. I grabbed his hand, caressing it softly, "What happened, babe? You know I won't judge you. You know after years of confiding in me that you can tell me anything."

He nodded, wiping a tear from his eyes, still shaking his head as if he were trying to process his own thoughts. He was being extremely cautious with his words. The sound of my phone ringing caused me to almost jump out of my skin. It had to be the guy I was supposed to be meeting tonight. I quickly grabbed my phone, silencing the call and put my attention back on the man that was sitting in front of me.

He finally looked up at me, "Being married for as long as we were is hard work after awhile, especially when your world stops due to a pandemic and you're forced to actually face the problems in your marriage instead of being away for weeks or months at a time and being able to avoid them." I nodded, allowing him to continue, watching nervously grit his teeth, "I fucked up. I let my emotions get the best of me and instead of envisioning her, I began envisioning someone else. I knew it was wrong, so I stopped and began focusing all of my attention on Deb."

I looked at him, "Okay, well I mean...That happens. You didn't physically do anything, did you?" I asked, furrowing my brows.

He shook his head, "No, I didn't. But she knew something was up with me. And now, I can't keep running from it. Deb is a great person, she truly is. But this other person, it's like whenever I'm with them, life suddenly just...makes sense again." He said lowly while staring off into space as if actually saying the words caused him too much pain to admit.

My phone began ringing again, I quickly grabbed it and answered, "Hey, look I'm sorry. I just had an emergency come up and I'm not going to be able to make it. I hope you understand." I said quickly, Hugh gave me a questioning look, and I knew he was curious as to who I was speaking to or who I had plans with.

My date was disappointed to say the least, but he understood, so I took that as a chance to end the call. Hugh looked at me, "I shouldn't be here bothering you with this. Go on with your plans." He sniffled, wiping his face with his head and standing up.

I grabbed his hand, rolling my eyes, pulling him back down on the sofa, "No, it's okay. So things make more sense when you're with this person?" I asked, he looked at me nodding, but not speaking. "Does she feel the same way?" I asked.

He shrugged, refusing to keep eye contact with me again, "I don't know if she does or doesn't. But I've been in a marriage that's lacked intimacy and has been more of a friendship arrangement for the past two years. This was not something I planned. I would never cheat on Deb, I just couldn't handle the charade anymore and I'm guessing she felt the same way."

I wasn't exactly sure what to say anymore as I gazed at him allowing him to continue venting, "I just know that whenever I'm with this person, we can be in a room full of people and it's like they're not there. She makes me feel things that I haven't felt in the longest fucking time."

I threw my hands up, "Go tell her then. If that's how you feel for this person, go talk to her. Hugh, you are an amazing man. What happened is unfortunate but people grow apart sometimes and there's nothing that can be done about it. You need to go tell this person how you feel." I said softly, giving him a small smile. "So who is it anyways? Is it the girl you're on broad way with? The one the rumor was about? Wasn't her name Sarah or something?"

"Are you referring to Sutton?" He asked, looking at his hands.

I nodded, "Yeah, that's her name. Sutton. Is it her?"

He sat silent for a good two minutes, staring at his hands. There had been articles going around for months about him and his Music Man co-star, Sutton Foster having an affair. I honestly wouldn't be surprised at this point. I knew the effect the pandemic had on his marriage. He tells me literally everything and I've always been there as an ear or eyes for his texts regarding the issues he and Deb dealt with.

After two minutes of complete silence, he spoke, looking at me, "I have something to tell you."

I looked up at him with soft eyes, his hazel ones piercing through my soul, "It's Sutton, isn't it?" I asked knowingly.

He slowly shook his head, "It's not Sutton and no, I didn't have an affair with Sutton." He simply said.

I chuckled, "Okay, so who is it? It's not Zendaya, is it?" I asked, cringing at the thought of he and Zendaya together. Nothing against Zen, we're friends. But she also knows about the crush I have on my dear friend.

He looked at cringing himself, "What? No. She's like a daughter to me." He said with a chuckle, "It's you." He said lowly.

I took a deep breath, "It's me?"

He looked down at the floor again, "Yeah." He was being short, as if he himself were in disbelief.

I furrowed my brows, "Why?" I asked, shaking my head in disbelief of what I was hearing.

His voice began trembling again as he reached for my hand, interlocking it with his own, "Do you remember when my father died?" He asked, I nodded, "I rang you, and you jumped on a plane to come see me. You spent days going over my lines for The Son with me. That was when I realized it. I rang Deb first. All she could say was that she was sorry. But you, you booked a flight and flew across the world for me. I was in hysterics and you comforted me each time." I took another breath, remembering what had taken place when Hugh's dad passed away on Australia's Father's Day in 2021.

"I swear to you, I tried. When I got back home, I tried to make those thoughts go away. That's why I distanced myself from you that following year. No matter what I did, no matter what she did, all I could see was you." He spoke honestly, tilting his head slightly, a hitch in his breathing as he continued to look at me, begging me to say anything.

"I fell in love with you, but I didn't want you to know. I didn't want Deb to know. I didn't want anyone to know, so I tried my fucking bloody damnest to push it out of my head and it only made it more apparent. And I don't know if you feel the same w-" I couldn't take hearing him speak anymore, overwhelmed with emotion, I tightened the grip he had on my hand with my own and sent my lips crashing against his stopping him in his tracks.

He brought his other hand up, grabbing my chin softly as his brain registered what was happening and began slowly moving his lips against mine. Pulling away, but pressing my forehead against his, as we both kept our eyes shut, I spoke, "I love you." barely above a whisper. I slowly opened my eyes to see his eyes staring into my own, our foreheads still pressed together, "But I didn't want this to happen like this."

I sighed, pulling away, "I don't want to be the reason your marriage ends. I'm not a home wrecker. I've loved you for years, why do you think I flew across the country when your father died and you called me hysterical? But I respect you, I respect Deb and I respect your marriage."

He looked at me, "My marriage ended two years ago. You're not a homewrecker and you did not cause this. Deb and I knew this was coming since the shut down over COVID. We didn't want to divorce for the sake of our children. We've just both gotten to the point where we want different things out of life and have decided for the sake of our happiness to end things. I'm heartbroken because I genuinely do love her as a person, and I did not want things to go the way they have. But her and I have to find our own happiness and we've realized it wasn't with each other anymore."

He brushed a strand of hair behind my ear, "It's you. For the last two years, it's been you and you didn't even know it. You did nothing wrong, love."

I sat in silence. I'd worked so hard over the years to keep my feelings to myself and to never cross a boundary. But whenever he called me in tears over his father, I couldn't help myself but to want to be there for support. He needed it and was falling apart at the seams. I don't know why Deb didn't rush to his side. I don't know why all she could say was "Sorry, I'll see you when you get back to New York.".

His eyes began pleading with me, as he slid off the sofa and onto the floor on his knees in front of me, still holding my hand, now grabbing my other one, "Please say something. Please."

I swallowed the hard lump in my throat, exhaling the deep breath I had been holding, "Just hold me..." was all I could manage to say.

He nodded, quickly sliding back to his position on the sofa, pulling my body into his chest, "Yeah?...I can do that." The feeling of his arms tightening around me as I sank my head into his chest.

Where do we go from here?

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acti-veg · 3 months ago

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Leather vs. Pleather: 8 Myths Debunked

Since we are all beyond tired of seeing the same regurgitated leather posts every day, I've compiled and briefly debunked some of the most common myths peddled about leather and pleather… So hopefully we can all move on to talk about literally anything else.

1) Leather is not sustainable.

Approximately 85% of all leather (almost all leather you'll find in stores) is tanned using chromium. During the chrome tanning process, 40% of unused chromium salts are discharged in the final effluents, which makes it's way into waterways and poses a serious threat to wildlife and humans. There are also significant GHG emissions from the sheer amount of energy required to produce and tan leather.

Before we even get the cow's hide, you first need to get them to slaughter weight, which is a hugely resource-intensive process. Livestock accounts for 80% of all agricultural land use, and grazing land for cattle likely represents the majority of that figure. To produce 1 pound of beef (and the subsequent hide), 6-8 pounds of feed are required. An estimated 86% of the grain used to feed cattle is unfit for human consumption, but 14% alone represents enough food to feed millions of people. On top of that, one-third of the global water footprint of animal production is related to cattle alone. The leather industry uses greenwashing to promote leather as an eco-friendly material. Leather is often marketed as an eco-friendly product, for example, fashion brands often use the Leather Working Group (LWG) certificate to present their leather as sustainable. However, this certification (rather conveniently) does not include farm-level impacts, which constitute the majority of the negative environmental harm caused by leather.

2) Leather is not just a byproduct.

Some cows are raised speciifically for leather, but this a minority and usually represents the most expensive forms of leather. This does not mean that leather is just a waste product of beef and dairy, or that it is a completely incidental byproduct; it is more accurate to call leather a tertiary product of the beef and dairy industries. Hides used to fetch up to 50% of the total value of the carcass, this has dropped significantly since COVID-19 to only about 5-10%, but this is recovering, and still represents a significant profit margin. Globally, leather accounts for up to 26% of major slaughterhouses’ earnings. Leather is inextricably linked to the production of beef and dairy, and buying leather helps make the breeding, exploitation and slaughter of cows and steers a profitable enterprise.

3) Leather is not as biodegradable as you think.

Natural animal hides are biodegradable, and this is often the misleading way leather that sellers word it. "Cow hide is fully biodegradable" is absolutely true, it just purposely leaves out the fact that the tanning process means that the hide means that leather takes between 25 and 40 years to break down. Even the much-touted (despite it being a tiny portion of the market) vegetable-tanned leather is not readily biodegradable. Since leather is not recyclable either, most ends up incinerated, or at landfill. The end-of-life cycle and how it relates to sustainability is often massively overstated by leather sellers, when in fact, it is in the production process that most of the damage is done.

4) Leather is not humane.

The idea that leather represents some sort of morally neutral alternative to the evils of plastic is frankly laughable, at least to anyone who has done even a little bit of research into this exploitative and incredibly harmful industry. Cows, when properly cared for, can live more than fifteen years. However, most cows are usually slaughtered somewhere around 2-3 years old, and the softest leather, most luxurious leather comes from the hide of cows who are less than a year old. Some cows are not even born before they become victim to the industry. Estimates vary, but according to an EFSA report, on average 3% of dairy cows and 1.5 % of beef cattle, are in their third-trimester of pregnancy when they are slaughtered.

Slaughter procedures vary slightly by country, but a captive bolt pistol shot to the head followed by having their throats slit, while still alive, is standard industry practice. This represents the “best” a slaughtered cow can hope for, but many reports and videos exist that suggest that cows still being alive and conscious while being skinned or dismembered on the production line is not uncommon, some of these reports come from slaughterhouse workers themselves.

5) Leather often involves human exploitation.

The chemicals used to tan leather, and the toxic water that is a byproduct of tanning, affect workers as well as the environment; illness and death due to toxic tanning chemicals is extremely common. Workers across the sector have significantly higher morbidity, largely due to respiratory diseases linked to the chemicals used in the tanning process. Exposure to chromium (for workers and local communities), pentachlorophenol and other toxic pollutants increase the risk of dermatitis, ulcer nasal septum perforation and lung cancer.

Open Democracies report for the Child Labour Action Research Programme shows that there is a startlingly high prevalence of the worst forms of child labour across the entire leather supply chain. Children as young as seven have been found in thousands of small businesses processing leather. This problem is endemic throughout multiple countries supplying the global leather market.

6) Pleather is not a ‘vegan thing’.

Plastic clothing is ubiquitous in fast fashion, and it certainly wasn’t invented for vegans. Plastic leather jackets have been around since before anyone even knew what the word vegan meant, marketing department have begun describing it as ‘vegan leather’ but it’s really no more a vegan thing than polyester is. Most people who wear pleather are not vegan, they just can’t afford to buy cow’s leather, which remains extremely expensive compared to comparable fabrics.

It is striking how anti-vegans consistently talk about how ‘not everyone can afford to eat plant-based’ and criticise vegans for advocating for veganism on that basis, yet none of them seem to mind criticisms directed at people for wearing a far cheaper alternative than leather. You can obviously both be vegan and reduce plastic (as we all should), but vegans wear plastic clothing for the same reason everyone else does: It is cheaper.

7) Plastic is not the only alternative.

When engaging in criticism of pleather, the favourite tactic seems to be drawing a false dilemma where we pretend the only options are plastic and leather. Of course, this is a transparent attempt to draw the debate on lines favourable to advocates of leather, by omitting the fact that you can quite easily just buy neither one.

Alternatives include denim, hemp, cork, fiber, mushroom fiber, cotton, linen, bamboo, recycled plastic, and pinatex, to name a few. There are exceptions in professions like welding, where an alternative can be difficult to source, but nobody needs a jacket, shoes or a bag that looks like leather. For most of us, leather is a luxury item that doesn’t even need to be replaced at all.

8) Leather is not uniquely long-lasting.

The longevity of leather is really the only thing it has going for it, environmentally speaking. Replacing an item less often means fewer purchases, and will likely have a lower environmental impact than one you have to replace regularly. Leather is not unique in this respect, however, and the idea that it is, is mostly just effective marketing.

As your parents will tell you, a well-made denim jacket can last a lifetime. Hemp and bamboo can both last for decades, as can cork and pinatex. Even cotton and linen can last for many years when items are looked after well. While some materials are more hard wearing than others, how long an item will last is mostly the result of how well made the product is and how well it is maintained, not whether or not the item is leather.

#vegan #leather #vegan leather #masterposts #resources #environment

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gumiluver · 7 months ago

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21&29 with nanami; like 21 for the beginning and reader is still shy especially when 29 comes into play :) fem reader pls 🥺

you don’t know just how heavy I fuck w this idea I’m so here for it!! hope you enjoy luv!! <3

prompt 21: "If you wanted me to fuck you then you should've just said so, love. No need to be shy with me—you're my everything."

prompt 29: "Ohhh fuck—baby...did you know you could squirt?”

lover <3: nanami kento x afab!reader

byr/byi: the content in this fic is not suitable for individuals under the age of 18--minors will be blocked (DNI), wc: 1.7k

cw: smut, nsfw, pwp, afab!reader, praise kink, manhandling, dom/sub dynamics, teasing, squirting, pet names (love, baby)

an: requests still open! check out the guidelines here for more info :)

border credit: @/cafekitsune, pic credit: oh5629289 on pinterest

“How long have we been together now love—two years and you’re still so shy f’ me?” Kento questions you, peppering soft kisses along the nape of your neck. His burly hands move along the sides of your hips, one slowly trailing upwards to cup and caress your left breast while the other molds around your hip, pulling a whine out of you in the process.

“C-can’t help it Ken’…you make me so flustered,” you whimper, pulling from his grasp to shy away from his intense gaze. He’s quick to grab your chin tho, forcing your eyes back to him to meet his sly gaze. Your shy nature easily amuses his, loving how quick you are to break your composure and fall for his ploy.

“Is that so, love? What makes you so flustered, hm?” he teases, an uncommon occurrence that makes your empty pussy clench helplessly. You whine and shift around in his hold, wanting to break away from your lover's grasp to hide under the covers and save yourself from his teasing. Your thighs squeeze together, aimlessly hoping to satisfy the deep ache that’s settling in your cunt and, of course, he takes note of that.

Nanami has always been so observant over you.

Like how he knows when you’re holding in your pleasure filled moans—the little scrunch of your nose and furrow of your brow gives you away.

Or when you try and sneak a quick orgasm in after he’s warned you to hold it—the way your pussy clenches his tip for dear life even after he’s stilled your hips makes your plans damn well known to him.

And even when you’re trying to hide how horny you are—like how you are now—he can tell; from the way you shy away from his touch and overt your gaze as if he were the apple of sin you couldn’t help but sink your teeth in.

And he fucking loves it. He loves getting to see your agitated and flustered state—it inflates his ego like no other. To see you, the most beautiful being he’s ever laid his eyes on, become so enamored and needy for him has him feeling like a fucking god.

“What is it, baby? You can tell me. What is it that you need me to do—say it,” he demands, pressing you deeper into the wall, grinding his hard cock into your clothed pussy. The moan that spills from you fuels Nanami’s head with even more sinful deeds he’d love to corrupt you with.

“I-I need…” you trail off, panting like a bitch in heat over how flustered he’s got you. You let out a small whine, feeling his left knee shift between your legs to press against your slick mound, rubbing his strong thigh against you to provide you with the pleasure your body oh so craves.

“Yes? What do you need love,” he whispers, moving the hand on your hip to place a light grasp around your neck, holding you steady and meeting your gaze.

“Ahh!! K-Kento please!!” you beg, unsure of what exactly it was you were even begging for—but nonetheless, you plead. The pleasure pulsating through your sweet cunt sends shockwaves, hitting deep within your soul and making you preen.

“Say it. Be good and tell me what you need,” he groans out, patience wearing thin at the feel of your heat leaking through your panties and onto his slacks. His tan pants presenting a wet spot on the thigh that’s pushed up to your cunt—how lewd.

“N-need you…in me…” you whimper out, shamefully closing your eyes to save yourself from the embarrassment that is begging for dick.

But fuck did it make his cock throb hearing it.

The second he hears your pretty plea, Kento makes haste in stripping you of your clothes and sprinting to the nearest surface he can find.

“If you wanted me to fuck you then you should’ve just said so, love. No need to be shy with me—you’re my everything,” he coos, hovering his hulking body over your smaller one. Sheepishly, you glance away from him to gawk at his toned body. Ripples of muscle decorate his form as his tanned skin glows a pretty shade of pink, no doubt from the sheer excitement coursing through his veins.

He brings a hand upwards to cup your chin again, wanting to make sure that your wandering eyes don’t miss all the fun that’s about to start, “keep your eyes on me love—don’t look away.”

His demanding tone a clear contradiction to his usually gentle demeanor, making your mouth fall dry and your pussy run wet. You nod quickly, making direct eye contact with your lover's hazel eyes, and the hum of approval he lets out makes you clench your thighs that are hung around his waist.

Slowly, he rubs the tip of his cock against your folds, carefully collecting the slick that escapes from your pussy to thoroughly coat his cock—all while gazing intensely at you. After all, he didn’t want to miss seeing your face morphed into that pleasure-filled look he positively yearns to see.

A whiny cry of his name pulls him back to reality, ripping his gaze away from yours to stare down at your entrance and fuck—what a fucking mess.

“Ohhh baby, look at you,” he groans loudly, smacking the tip of his cock against your soaked cunny. Lewd ‘plap’ ‘plap’ ‘plaps’ radiate against the room with the way his heavy cockhead smacks against your clit. You’re quivering now, moving your hips to avoid the torturous teasing that your sorcerer subjects you to.

And just as you were about to whine for him to just put it in, you felt his heavy tip catch against your little hole. Gasping, you frantically reach for his biceps, nails digging into the skin as he slowly feeds you his monstrous cock.

“Ha’aaahh—kentooo!” you cry out, unable to comprehend the sheer stretch that is his girth. Regardless of how many times you’ve taken Kento, or how long he spends between your thighs prepping you, nothing could ever mentally prepare you for the actual feeling of his cock splitting you open.

“I know baby I know—just a c-couple more inches, fuckk,” he groans, glancing up at you every so often to make sure you’re still being his good girl and watching everything he does, “being so good for me.”

It felt like eons have passed before Kento finally sheathes himself fully into you. But, as soon as he’s inside you, he’s quick to unsheathe and start up a brutal pace.

“I-I can’t!! Oh f-fuck—slow do-own Ken’!!” you whimper out, his sharp thrusts breaking up your sentence. He fucks you with a passion that rivals that of a warrior, composed and dead set on his goal of fucking you to completion. He wants to ingrain himself into your womb, wants your pussy to react to his touch, his voice—and his alone.

“Fuuuuck this pussy’s perfect for me love, keep your legs spread—yeaaa just like that,” he grunts, absolutely lost in a haze of lust and pleasure. He’s so pussy drunk on you that he doesn’t even realize just how far gone you are. His usually observant nature completely bypassed the way he could only see the whites of your eyes, how your body is shaking—convulsing even, and just how sensitive your body is slowly starting to feel. Your pussy’s fluttering ridiculously, spasming around his thick shaft so much so that it felt like his cock was getting massaged by your womb. The wetness of your cunt made the nastiest sounds, filling the air with a lewd atmosphere that screamed sex.

But something felt…different.

It felt…off.

You jolt upwards—or at least tried to, considering how quick Nanami was to push you back down, not wanting to let up on his precious girl.

“K-Kento it feels weird!!” you cry, pushing at his arms to try and escape his ruthless pounding, but it’s pointless—he’s got you caged in his arms, right where he wants you.

“s’okay love, let me make it feel good—can feel you squeezing my cock so nicely, fuuckk” he lets out an animalistic grunt, pressing more of his body weight into you to immobilize you. You let out a long, languid moan, the feeling of his tip proding in places you didn’t even realize he could reach was making you see galaxies rather than stars. But yet again, that same foreign pressure began to burn deep within your womb, almost as if you were going to explode.

“N-nooo, p-please!! It feels like I—ahhh—…feels like m’gonna…” you trail off, unable to formulate your words. You’re panting so much that all you could do was move your hands to his chest in a measly attempt to push him away.

“Gonna what, love? Gonna cum? Come on baby, give it to me—cum for me,” he grunts out, his voice going octaves lower—so much so that you could feel the reverb of his voice hit your clit. His thrusts move quicker and with much more vigor, aiming to push you over the edge. Sneaking a rough hand down to your mound, he maneuvers his thumb to find your pink pearl and circles it in that specific way that makes you go fucking crazy.

And that final motion was what came of your undoing.

A bright flash of white obscures your vision, and the sheer ecstasy that courses through your veins sends you into an early release that spills all over your lover's pelvis. Nanami’s eyes widen in shock, seeing the guttural force of your orgasm shake the literal wind out of you makes his pride swell like none other. He couldn’t believe it; who could’ve known that his perfect little angel could do something so…lascivious—so sinful.

“Ohhh fuck—baby…did you know you could squirt?”

an: the way this man makes me go absolutely feral…anyways, I hope you all enjoyed & requests are still open!! Please be sure to check the guidelines before you submit a request!! <3

As always, likes, comments, follows, reblogs, and any other form of interaction is greatly appreciated <3 #supportcreators

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hurts2think · 3 months ago

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a queen of hearts x femreader where reader is one of bridget’s guards and she gets hurt and much to everyone’s surprise bridget decides to patch her up because she insists no one else can do it right (they definitely can and bridget just wants to be alone with reader lmfao)

and her seeing reader out of her armor for the first time and is like two seconds away from giggling and kicking her feet bc reader is super muscular and tanned idk im a sucker for queen of hearts being a secret loser lesbian (bc she DEFINITELY was in highschool)

🌹Queen of Hearts x Reader🌹

Reader Pronouns: She/her

Pairing: The Queen of Hearts x Fem!Guard!Reader

Plot: Someone tried breaking into the castle. Reader takes them down but is injured in the process, the Queen insisting she take on the responsibility of tending her wound. What the Queen wasn't prepared for was a bit of a lesbian panic.

Word count: 1.7k

Extra: Sorry this took forever and it ain't even good !! Very messy. But I love her. I listened to Chappel Roan while writing this.

Being a guard for royalty was no walk in the park. Especially if that park was The Queen of Hearts. She was a very interesting character, and by interesting, she was a tyrant.

She had full control over Wonderland, basically banning anything remotely joyous from it. She had strict rules and high expectations.

But, you've been doing this for awhile. You were very experienced when it came to being a guard. It was your dream since you were little.

Of course, when you were little, things were much different. Wonderland wasn't nearly as hostile, the Queen at the time wasn't so controlling, but none of that mattered anymore.

Your only job was protecting the current queen.

You didn’t fear many people. You were almost considering fearless. But the one person you did fear was your own Queen. The person that ruled over you. The woman who gave you ever command.

You always felt the need to go out of your way to go above and beyond to satisfy her, and it sort of worked. You did eventually become very high ranking and usually were her personal guard during special events.

You were never able to speak to her, why would you? It's not your job to speak to her unless she comands it. But that never stopped her from speaking to you. But you kind of assumed she spoke to anyone. Usually to just complain about small insignificant things for you to fix, but occasionally you swore you heard a hint of a real person come out of her.

But now, it was late. Wonderland never slept at night even if the people did.

There were always something outside of the kingdom, always someone. Always something to protect the kingdom from.

And every once in awhile, someone would slip through the cracks and try to take the Queen down. It was very rare this happened, but happened tonight.

Someone lurked in the walls of the kingdom, slipping in and out of the shadows. While the security in the kingdom was always the best, there are always holes.

And on that night, you were walking down the halls of the castle. You never enjoyed patrols that were in the castle, you preferred being out. But as you walked down the dim hallways that were completely silent other than the clicking of your boots on the tile, you heard something from behind you.

With one swift movement, you turn and block an attack from a hooded figure with a dagger, digging a gash into your hand rather your chest. You unsheath your sword despite the injury and the rest happened quickly.

You yelled for the other guards and you all easily brought this man down and immeately brought to the dungeon for the Queen to set her scentence for him. All was quiet again, all was safe. Except for the fact you accidentally woken up the Queen from her sleep, which was never good.

The doors to her room swung open and she slowly walked out. Even after just being woken up she was perfect. Her night gown was ridiculously expensive looking and beautiful, she was naturally gorgeous with or without makeup (in this case without), and every step she took was well coordinated. She looked unreal, like the kind of woman you'd dream of.

"Your Majesty," You kneel, along with a couple other guards near by you who were trying to patch your wound you received from the encounter.

"What is the meaning of this?" She demanded, clearly not thrilled by being woken.

You bit your tongue, horrified of what she may have in store for you and the other guards once you tell her that someone managed to break into the castle, "An unidentified man broke into the castle. We have detained him and he is being sent to the dungeon." You say, still kneeling and not daring to look her in the eyes.

The Queen of Hearts gave a noise of disapproval which made your heart feel like it sank to your stomach.

"I can see he didn't go without a stumble." She scoffed, eyeing the injury on your arm.

"We have it handled, your Majesty. We apologize for awakening you." One of the other guards who was initially helping you with your wound spoke up.

The Queen narrowed her eyes, "Clearly not." She stated, taking a step closer to you, making your skin hot. "You're doing it all wrong, it's like you're totally incapable of treating her wound properly." She huffed, "You're all dismissed. Out of my sight." She demanded, before pointing a finger at you, "But you. You stay."

You wished you could get up and run. Run far away. Because you weren't so sure that she had anything pleasant planned for you. You were almost certain your head would be removed from your shoulders in the next 12 hours. But all you could do was just sit there and kneel while staring at the ground.

"Off your knees. Pick up the first aid kit and hand it to me, since that lot clearly have no clue what they're doing I suppose I'll have to handle it." She commanded, crossing her arms.

You finally look up at her, your eyes full of surprise. Did you hear that right? Are you misinterpreting? Did the Queen of Hearts just say she was going to tend your wound rather than the other guards?

You hesitated before picking up the first aid kit and standing up, handing her the kit.

She snatched the kit from your hands and used her free hand to motion you to follow her.

You silently follow her into her own room which was even more shocking. You've never actually been invited into her room before, it was a little intimidating. You tried your best not to glance around, she doesn't like a nosey woman.

“Sit.” Was all she had to say for you to immediately listen. You sat in a chair that was probably the most comfortable chair you've ever been in before.

The Queen pulled up another chair and sat in front of you, taking your hand. Her gesture was surprisingly gently and careful, a small gesture but very out of character for her.

She removed the plate armor on your forearm and upper arm so it didn't get in the way. You felt a little embarrassed since all you wore under your armor was a tank top so now your entire arm was bare.

The Queen went pretty quiet after she took the plate armor off.

You were of course silent too. You didn't speak to her, you couldn't. But the silence was deafening. You tried to conceal the pain you felt from the wound and her tending to it. It burned and you had a feeling you wouldn't be able to properly hold a sword for a couple weeks.

Her eyebrows furrowed with concentration on her face. It was a look you hardly ever saw.

Her fingers worked surprisingly delicately, applying a cloth to clean the blood. Despite her steady hands, there was tension in her posture; a slight hesitation in her every movement. Her eyes occasionally flicker to your arms, tracing the defined curves of muscle with ab unreadable expression.

You tried to remain calm and stoic but you would be lying if you said you weren’t intimidated.

You winced at the pain as she put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding.

"Don't focus on the pain. Just focus on me, hm?" She advises though it sounded like more of a comand, making your legs weak and your heart feel it'll beat of your chest.

You just look at her and stare at her perfect features. Her perfect hair, beautiful eyes, perfectly sculpted face. It was hard not to focus on her with her in that thin nightgown.

"Say something." Bridget finally commanded after another very long silence. You weren't sure why.

She's been acting weird this whole time. Well, she's always been odd, but especially now.

The Queen couldn’t help but feel a bit flustered, though she keeps her focus, forcing her usual demeanor. The air felt thick, as she began to clean the wound itself.

“Uhm,” you hesitantly speak up as she demanded, “Are you okay?” You immediately felt like jumping out of the window after asking that. It was definitely the wrong thing to say. You didn’t even know why she wanted you to speak in the first place.

The Queen let out a mocking scoff, “I tell you to say something and of course the only thing to come from your mouth it idiotic.”

Your face heated up in embarrassment. But you really weren’t sure what you were supposed to say. Before you even could say anything she spoke again.

“Letting yourself get injured like this…” she huffed with a disapproving tone, “You’re dismissed from work for the next week until it’s healed.” She began to wrap a bandage around your hand.

You really felt like this was all a dream. Everything tonight felt like a dream. “Really?” You asked, clearly surprised.

The Queen rolled her eyes, not amused by your need for confirmation. She didn’t say anything.

“Thank you, your majesty.”

“Yes. You should be grateful.” She said. She then slowly stood up, tracing her hand over your muscular arm, making your skin crawl. Her touch felt dangerous but so good. Your heart raced faster and faster.

Her hand lightly squeezed over your arm and to your shoulder, making you take a sharp inhale. And you could almost swear her own face turned a little red.

“Your Majesty—“

“Silence.” She interrupted, effectively making your mouth snap shut.

She trailed her nail under your chin, tilting your head to look her in the eyes.

The tension only grew more intense, your mind flooded with thoughts you probably shouldn’t be having about your ruler. You were no stranger to these thoughts, but for a moment it felt like these thoughts were coming true. But then the Queen suddenly pulled her hand away and snapped her gaze off of you. It was almost like she was flustered. “Go home. Rest.” She demanded.

You slowly stood up, unable to take your eyes off of her. “Now.” She added after she noticed your eyes trailing on her.

You snap back into reality and firmly nod you head, “Yes, your majesty. Thank you…”

“Silence. Leave.”

You leave her room, wishing you could have stayed. But that surely wasn’t possible. You only stood there for a moment, imagining the Queen’s red and flustered face. Imagining her sudden change in character. The way she stared at your arm and then looked away. You wish you could read her mind, what was going through her head. But you couldn’t help but smile at the picture of it in your head. It was enough to keep you up all night.

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misctf · 1 month ago

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Don't know if you still want requests but I grew up playing good old american football so I naturally have bulked way up and become so big but now I'd like to play soccer. Can you help me get from football bulky to soccer lean?

You jogged back to the side-lines, high-fiving your teammate as they ran out to take your place. The whistle blows, and you watch as the game resumes. If you told your younger self you’d be trying to play soccer, he would’ve laughed. As your dad said, you were born to play American football. And years of training your body left you bulky and muscular. At 6’2” and 230lbs, you’re a beast. But since graduating college a few years ago, you found it hard to get back into football. Most of your colleagues were into soccer and your company’s team played weekly.

“You should play.” Jake from accounting said.

“Nah, not into that kinda stuff.” You initially replied. You weren’t some twinkle-toed foot fairy. You played football. A real sport.

But you eventually caved. You figured you needed some more cardio in your life and connecting with your colleagues a bit more couldn’t be that bad. You just didn’t figure how much you were going to love it. Or how bad you’d be at it. Your coworkers patted you on the back after you failed to complete a pass. They reassured you it was okay when you accidentally scored on your own goal. And you eventually figured you just didn’t have the body or stamina for the sport. But you weren’t a quitter.

You’d never heard of the Jock Exchange Program until an ad popped up on your screen one evening. You read closely, becoming absolutely fascinated. An app that gives athletes the chance to try out a new sport. An for app those who feel they dedicated themselves to the wrong sport. The process is simple. Match with someone and meet at one of their facilities. Easy enough. You set up your profile, snapping a picture that highlights your bulky, muscular form. And after swiping through a few possible swaps, you match. The guy’s name is Dylan. Just turned 19, blond, lean, and played soccer all his life. He’s a bit young, but he reassures you he’s okay aging up a bit if it means he gets a chance at playing American football.

And a few day later, you’re at the facility. It was the first time you met Dylan. He was certainly shorter and younger than you. A confident, cocky grin etched on his face. You agreed to a 1 month swap, just to see how it goes. You and Dylan sign the papers. And before you knew it, electrodes were hooked up to your head. And then everything went black.

When you awoke, the world around you felt a big larger. You raised your hand and gasped. It was smaller, hairless. The skin young and not weathered by the years. You grab a mirror and look closely at your handsome face, blond hair, and tanned skin. You can’t help but chuckle. It felt so odd. So foreign. Yet it was yours all the same. You eventually got ready and said goodbye to Dylan, who was clearly enjoying his new larger frame. And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back at your old body. You were never much of a narcissist, but god you looked good. You blushed when you felt your new cock chub up a bit. Returning home, you had the chance to really appreciate your new form. The lean, hairless muscle a far cry from your bulkier form. The confident, cocky smirk reminded you of all those asshole jocks you used to play with. This kid probably got a lot of action, you figured.

The next few days were largely normal. You went to work, having to explain to everyone your situation. But afterwards, you had the chance to really shine on the soccer field. Your lean form moving expertly, performing moves you didn’t even know were possible. Jake comes up to you afterwards, slapping you on the back and commending your new skills. And again, the oddest feeling passes through you. When did Jake get so attractive? I mean, he was a good looking guy. Just out of college- really gorgeous smile. And his stubble was a sexy addition to his chiseled face. You even notice the sweat dripping down his shirt. And his manly musk causes your dick to stir. You never had thoughts like that before, yet all you could do was stare dreamily at him.

“Hey, you good?”

“Uh yeah, bro.” You say, “I...” You pause and give him a confident smirk, “Just wondering what you’re doing after this, man.” You say. Images of him fucking you cross your mind and you’re lost in a horny daze, “Wanna head back to my place?”

He gives you an odd look and asks if you’re okay. Using a name that you don’t think quite sounds right.

“Uh, name’s Dylan.” You say. He raises an eyebrow and in that moment, you snap back to reality, “Oh shit, uh sorry Jake. I need to go!” You quickly part ways, your mind trying to make sense of what just happened. Just a blip, you figure, nothing to worry about.

But as the days continue to pass, you’re starting to recognize these issues aren’t improving. Your performance at work declines. Tasks you knew how to do with ease are taking much longer and are done incorrectly. At the same time, you’re constantly horny. The hormones raging in this younger body- consuming your every focus. And one night, while you’re browsing porn sites, you realize straight porn isn’t doing it for you. Without much thought, you navigate to a gay porn site you know you’d never heard of, and find a video. And for the first time, you jerk off to gay porn, moaning the entire time. Completely lost in the bliss.

The next day, you don’t even go into work. In fact, you don’t really recall what you do for work. Weren’t you in college? And who’s apartment was this? But a voice is telling you this isn’t right. You can barely recall aspects of your old life. And you realize in terror that these thoughts aren’t your own. You quickly call the help desk for the Jock Exchange Program and tell them what’s been going on.

“That was part of the risks, sir.” They say, “Sometimes, remnants of the old person’s mind remain. And in some cases, will overwrite the host.” They clear their voice, "Not to alarm you, but once an overwrite occurs, it may be impossible to rectify."

“Overwrite? Impossible?” You ask, the panic in your voice evident, “How do I stop this?”

“We can initiate an emergent transfer back to your old body. Can you tell us your name?”

“Dylan Conners.” You say, shaking your head, “No, it’s Dylan Conners.” Your eyes widen and you realize you can’t even remember your old name. In a panic, you hang up the phone.

You need to stop this. You need to... do what? Stop what? You shake your head. And, as you look around the apartment, you feel uncomfortable. This isn’t your place. You don’t even know how you got here. Despite a voice telling you this is your apartment, you flee. You run down the sidewalk and try to make sense of what’s going on. You quickly head to a spot you know all too well: the soccer field. And when you arrive, you take a deep breath. A feeling of comfort washing over you. There’s an abandoned soccer ball and you quickly start to practice. Each move wiping away your worry. Each successful shot on goal removing any doubt that you’re anyone but Dylan Conners. And by the time you’re done, covered in sweat, only Dylan Conners remains. You look down at a text on your phone.

“Hey man, wanted to know if you wanted to prolong this exchange. Got a spot on the team for the rest of the season. And btw, I’m loving this body.”

You chuckle, “Who the fuck is that?” You wonder. You quickly text back, “Sure man, I don’t give a shit.” And close your phone.

#male tf #male transformation #straight to gay #personality tf #jock tf #body swap #age regression

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grison-in-space · 8 months ago

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The “natural” and “evolutionary” preference for hourglass shapes would be news to medieval male Europeans, who as we have seen were much more interested in pear shapes. How do we explain medieval men’s desire for pot bellies if men analyze women’s bodies for signs that they may be pregnant and eschew them if they are? And what about today’s high fashion models who are tall, have small to medium-sized breasts, and slim hips yet are considered the epitome of the ideal body? All these designations of attractiveness leave out most women, even if they turn to a surgical option.

Further, our society does not praise most of the other medieval beauty preferences. We may still regard blond hair as a beauty ideal, but we are fickle on much else. In the last fifty years, we have lauded tanned skin and fair complexions—note that Black and brown women’s skin tones don’t even enter into Western beauty standards. Eyebrows go from pencil thin to bushy. And we don’t share the medieval penchant for “high free” foreheads. If standards are based on evolutionary processes, why do our current preferences differ from older ones, and why have ours changed even during different decades?

There is no single and consistent beauty ideal that has existed over time, even within Europe. Beauty is a social construct and has different characteristics in different ages. Justifying social beauty norms through scientific means is as much a social construction as Matthew of Vendôme’s effort was, and we can pay them exactly as much heed. Maybe less, because at least Matthew was giving us some poetry to read as well.

Eleanor Janega, The Once and Future Sex. 2023.

#Eleanor Janega #the once and future sex #reading

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heauxvibez · 3 months ago

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Sex

warning: short smut (18+)

But don't fall in love 'cause, we just havin' sex I'm gonna get you wet, we not makin' love tonight (Woah) Hickies all over your neck Kissin' all over your body, babe Girl, you gon' get it tonight

The blindfold over your eyes did nothing but enhance your senses, pushing them into an overwhelming clarity you couldn't fully articulate. His scent was richer, more intoxicating, enveloping you like a warm, heady cloud. Every word he spoke was like velvet, his voice a low, soothing melody that put you deep in your feelings. The warmth of his hands as they moved across your soft skin was a delicate yet searing touch that heated your body up like no other.

As the coarse hairs of his beard brushed against the sensitive skin of your thighs, the sensation was a delicious contrast—a feeling that made your breath hitch. He inhaled deeply, savoring the sweetness of your honey, a fragrance that seemed to weave itself into his very being. It was all overwhelming, and as your scent filled his lungs, his pretty brown eyes fluttered shut, rolling back in a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure.

Although feelings weren't supposed to be part of the equation, he had loved you as if they were, and it drove you mad. You were longing for him all while being confused. His touch, his presence—it all felt too real, too intimate for something that was meant to be casual. But despite what you knew was best for you, you wanted him desperately. If this no-strings-attached arrangement was the only way to have him—to feel him in this way, shape, and form—then so be it. You had learned to accept the pain, even to embrace it, because it was the only way to keep him close, even if it meant sacrificing a part of yourself in the process.

"I've been thinkin' 'bout this all day…" His words trailed into a soft whisper as his warm breath grazed your inner thighs. His lips followed, leaving a trail of soft, deliberate kisses. Each kiss was accompanied by a low, guttural grunt reverberating through the quiet room. Your body reacted instinctively, muscles tightening as your mind struggled to process his touch. It was almost too much to bear. You wanted to savor the moment, to let it linger, but the desire coursing through your veins made it impossible to stay still. You whimpered as you fought the urge to beg him to give you what your body so desperately craved.

He laid flat on his stomach on the bed, his body pressed against the soft sheets as your legs draped over his shoulders, resting along the length of his back the same way his wavy locs did. You could feel the subtle movement of his back muscles under your calves, their firmness shifting with each breath he took. Although your view was limited, your mind painted a vivid picture of those muscles—strong, taut, and perfectly defined. You imagined the contrast of his sun-kissed, tanned skin against the softness of your own, the way his body must look as he focused solely on you.

You could imagine the way he was looking at you. In your mind’s eye, you saw him closing his eyes in concentration as his tongue traced along the stretch marks on your thighs in adoration. He cherished every inch of you, his kisses following the glistening path of saliva his tongue had left behind. You could picture the way his lips would curl into that confident, knowing smile of his while you were writhing beneath him. His eyes would flicker up to meet yours, catching you in the act of biting your bottom lip to stifle a gasp. He would take in the sight of your parted lips, swollen and pulsating, almost begging for his attention. But he never worked on your time, only his own. It didn’t matter if your eyes were brimming with tears or if the sheets were soaked with your juices—he was in control. He would taste and touch you only when he was ready, relishing in the power he held over your body and your pleasure.

He pursed his lips, their natural redness now deepened and flushed from the anticipation. With a torturous slowness, he blew a gentle stream of cool air against your slick, aching pussy, the feeling both soothing and teasing. The breeze provided momentary relief from the throbbing need that worked through you, but it also served as a reminder that he had yet to touch you in the way you craved. Between the cool air and the heat of your arousal, he was leaving you breathless with want, aware of how close he was yet how intentionally he held back, keeping you on edge.

You felt him slowly sliding up your body, your legs slowly slipping off of his shoulder and now sliding down his chest. The soft sensual kisses that were on your thighs were now covering your stomach, following the path his nose made. The open-mouth kisses were like little moist massages against your skin.

"Roman.." you gasped feeling his lips wrapped around your nipple. He moaned against it in response to his name. His tongue swirled around effortlessly, slurping whenever he felt the spit getting ready to dribble down your breast, your toes curled in the air as he did so.

"Hmm?" he moaned softly, his eyes fluttering open just enough to catch a glimpse of you. You could feel his eyes tracing your every feature.

"How do you expect me not to fall in love when you're doing this to me?" you whispered. Your hand reached out, fingers tangling in his soft mane. His lips, warm and tender, began a slow journey, pressing gentle kisses along the curve of your chest.

"You'll figure it out, sweetheart,"

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

This is all my brain could push out, hope ya'll enjoy! Muah!

Tags:@harmshake @southerngirl41 @sortudademais @empressdede @alichesmi

@msbigredmachine @theninthwonder @blacst4r @wrestlingprincess80 @headoftheetable

@trashbin-nie @tshepisho @mzv11 @sheyaish @saintmagx

#roman reigns fanfiction #romanreigns #wwefanfic #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns smut

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eiightysixbaby · 2 years ago

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sunscreen and chlorine

word count: 3.5k

pairing: lifeguard!eddie x fem!reader

summary: things get steamy during an unbearably hot day at the hawkins pool.

cw: 18+ MINORS DNI - SMUT. oral (m receiving), sexual innuendos with a popsicle, sex in a public place, unprotected p in v, creampie, billy is mentioned in this lol. lmk if i forgot any!

author’s note: lifeguard!eddie has been invading my brain for days so here, have this.

It was hot. So, so unbelievably hot. The kind of heat where you step outside and feel like you can’t breathe for a second, where the air feels thick and heavy and sweat clings to your skin relentlessly. There was no breeze, none at all, just stagnant heat lingering. Naturally, just about everyone in Hawkins was at the community pool, dying for a way to cool down. Bare feet walking on hot pavement, vibrant swimsuits almost blinding in the sun. Brightly colored beach balls being tossed around in the water as screams and splashes rang out. Eddie sat perched in his lifeguard chair, bright red swim trunks covering his bottom half, stopping a little bit above his knees. A black tank top rested on his torso, clinging tight to modest muscles. Even in the blistering summer, Eddie wasn’t one to parade around with his shirt off. Much unlike Billy, who would take any chance he could get to be wearing as little clothing as possible, showing off his biceps to the suburban mothers who’d fawn over him. Bored women who married boring men that they felt close to nothing for, all for the sake of having that nuclear family, now dying to relive their teenage years. Eddie would occasionally throw scandalous remarks their way when they’d whistle at him, but for the most part he didn’t bite.

Eddie was honest to god sweltering, to put it lightly. The shade from the umbrella attached to the chair provided little comfort for him, but at least it kept most of his skin from receiving direct sun exposure. He’d already applied sunscreen several times, rubbing the white cream all over just to sweat it off a half hour later, and then repeat the process. His pale skin was unforgiving in the summer months, quick to turn an angry red if Eddie wasn’t careful about being in the sun. There’d been one too many occasions where he’d sat perched on the kitchen counter after hot summer days, Wayne rubbing aloe on his stinging skin. Sometimes Eddie isn’t sure why he chose to have a job that required him to be exposed to the elements so often, but hey, it pays the bills.

He peered through his sunglasses at all of the patrons in the pool, wishing he could feel the cool water on himself. His hair was pulled back into a low bun, keeping the heavy curls from making his neck too warm. He kept himself occupied any way he could, blowing his whistle at kids who insisted on running around the pool grounds despite several signs warning not to, laughing to himself when they’d slow to a walk, staring up at him with guilty eyes. Sat high on his perch, his eyes scanned over the various suspects down below - teenage girls sprawled out on towels, pretending like they weren’t absolutely miserable in the sun as they tanned their skin, Jason Carver walking towards the pool with Chrissy Cunningham over his shoulders, laughing in protest about the water being too cold, Billy flirting excessively with anything with a pulse instead of watching the pool. Eddie huffed a sigh, for as busy a day as it was, there was very little for him to actually do. Not that he wanted to have to, you know, save somebody from drowning today or something, but he was just bored. Ninety-five percent of the town’s population had to be here today, and yet none of his friends were around to keep him entertained. He was hot, he was cranky, and he just wanted to go home and unwind. Needed to smoke a joint, maybe rub one out, and go the fuck to sleep.

After yelling at some teenager to stop dunking unsuspecting people under the water, he resumed his people watching. His whistle sat loosely in his mouth, Eddie absentmindedly fidgeting with the silver metal between his teeth, whispers of that shrill chirping sound fighting their way out of the object every time he’d exhale too hard. Pulling his sunglasses off and tucking them on top of his head, his brown eyes roamed over the grounds until they landed on you. He recognized you, remembers you from high school though you two were never close. A pretty thing - you always have been - sprawled across a lounge chair, one leg crossed over the other casually. Water droplets dried on your skin, and the ends of your hair were wet, indicating your recent swim. You had a popsicle pressed between your lips, sticky red juice melting down your hand, the heat affecting the sweet ice too fast for you to keep up with. He doesn’t fully realize how hard he’s been staring until your eyes catch his, and you cock an eyebrow at him. He feels his cheeks heat up, for once from something other than the sun, and is about to just scamper down from his chair and into a hole in the ground before you wave at him, fingers delicately wiggling his way.

He gives you a casual wave back, fully catching the smile that you try to cover with your hand. Your eyes are unwavering on his thin frame, taking in his pale skin that’s littered here and there with tattoos. Gaze pausing on the soft muscles in his arms, trailing down to the fabric of his swim trunks, bunched up just below the waistband, concealing the rest of him that you’d very much like to see. You notice that he doesn’t stop looking at you, either. Eddie shamelessly lets his eyes rake up your legs, the vibrant pink of your bathing suit complimenting the rest of you. He swears his heart almost stops when he meets your eyes again, noticing the sultry look in them as you slowly push your popsicle past your lips once more. It almost completely disappears in your mouth before you pull it out, excruciatingly slowly. You lick it from bottom to top, tongue flat against the strawberry flavored treat, eyes never leaving Eddie’s.

He feels his cock twitch slightly in his swim trunks, suddenly finding it incredibly hard to focus on doing his job. You knew what you were doing, and you weren’t about to back down from what Eddie could tell. The dense heat was getting to his head, his brain turning to mush as he watched you. Juice from the popsicle slowly trickled down your chin until you wiped it with your fingers, proceeding to stick the index and middle in your mouth, sucking the sweet syrup off. Eddie shifts in his seat, subtly adjusting the fabric of his swim trunks, trying to conceal the bulge growing beneath them. You notice the awkward movement, lips twisting into a smirk as your mouth resumes its work on your popsicle. By the time you’ve consumed the entirety of the cold treat, pulling the last bit off the stick with your teeth and letting it melt in your mouth, Eddie is uncomfortably hard. He’s pulled the bright red rescue tube that was once secured at the side of the lifeguard chair over his lap, which wouldn’t seem like a calculated maneuver to anyone except you. You know the effect you’ve had on him, and he knows you’re enjoying it. Now that you’re done putting on a little show for him, he’s not sure what to do next. Was that it? Seductively eat your popsicle for him and it’s over, resume his shift as normal? He couldn’t exactly shout across the way at you to ask for your number - or at least, he didn’t want to make an absolute buffoon of himself trying.

He didn’t have to deliberate for long before he caught you jerking your head to the side, eyes following in the direction of the changing rooms and showers. You stood slowly from your chair, making sure he got the hint, before walking towards the big blue door to the women’s changing rooms. He couldn’t help but admire the way your ass looked as you walked away from where he was perched, soft flesh peeking out around the fabric of your bathing suit bottoms. Eddie was fully aware of the fact that fooling around with you at his place of employment in the middle of his shift was probably not a wise idea, but fuck it. He couldn’t hold off any longer. Gangly legs climbed down the steps of the lifeguard post until his feet hit the pavement below, almost immediately protesting at the heat coming from the concrete. He walked quickly in the direction you had led him, pulling his shirt over his head and bunching it in front of him to conceal the horrendously obvious tent in his pants. He approached Billy who gave him a questioning look.

“Cover for me for a few, man,” Eddie said quietly, for only Billy to hear, shoving the rescue tube at the shorter man for him to take.

“What?” Billy asked, stumbling back ever so slightly as Eddie presses the red safety equipment into his chest.

“Just fucking cover for me,” his voice was firm, and he walked away before Billy could say another word. The other man huffed an annoyed sigh as he headed for the lifeguard chair.

Eddie stepped cautiously into the changing rooms, not wanting to startle any unsuspecting pool patrons, but was pleasantly surprised when the only person he found inside was you. You leaned against a wall nonchalantly, twisting a lock of your hair around your fingers, smiling warmly at him.

“Hey, handsome. Decided to join me?” your voice is playful as you eye him up and down.

“That little show you put on sure was something, sweetheart,” Eddie says lowly, stalking slowly towards you.

“Just wanted to get you all worked up for the real deal,” you smirk at him, and he swallows a lump in his throat.

“Give me one sec,” he says quickly, turning on his heel.

Eddie heads back towards the door, grabbing the maintenance sign that sits in the corner. It reads, ‘Sorry! Temporarily closed for cleaning. We apologize for the inconvenience. -Hawkins Community Pool Staff’. He posts it on the outside of the door, letting the heavy metal swing closed behind him. Best to cover all of his bases here, he certainly doesn’t want any kids getting scarred for life today.

“We don’t exactly want an audience, now do we?” he asks as he walks slowly back towards you.

“No, no I guess not,” you reply, index finger bent with the nail between your teeth, a nervous habit shining through your casual demeanor.

Eddie stands mere inches away from you, breath fanning your face every time he exhales. He finds it hard to contain himself, wants nothing more than to have his hands on you. He steps even closer, looking down at you, loose strands of hair falling from his bun. He discarded the shirt he’d been holding onto the floor, and you find your eyes trailing down to his crotch, the slight bulge beneath the brightly colored fabric looking ever so appealing. His big brown eyes watch you intently, searching for any signs of your discomfort.

“You sure you want this?” he asks, voice steady.

“Yeah, ‘m sure. I’ve secretly been wanting you since we were fucking eighteen, so,” you laugh lightly, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Shit, you could’ve been teasing me with popsicles this whole time?” Eddie jokes, reaching his hands out and letting them gently rest on your hips.

You’re quiet, just admiring the soft freckles on his face and the warm brown of his eyes and those full pink lips. Eddie notices the way your eyes linger on his mouth, and his lips curl into a wicked grin.

“What’re you looking at me like that for, honey? Need something?” Eddie asks, teasing, his face so deliciously close to yours.

“Think I’m in serious need of mouth to mouth…” you say, trying to tease him back but your voice is breathy.

In an instant he’s swept you into a kiss. He groans softly as your hands climb up the back of his neck, tugging on his hair where it meets his scalp. His head is swirling, still fuzzy from the early July heat and now from the feel of your soft lips on his. You smell like sunscreen and chlorine, taste like artificial strawberry flavoring. Your lips are passionate yet gentle in their movements against his, and he wants to melt onto the floor for someone to mop up later. The kiss deepens rapidly before Eddie finally has to break away, the temperature in the large room growing to be unbearable. You read his mind before he can even say anything, and pull him into a shower stall, turning the water on to a comfortably cool temperature. You close the curtain behind you, and when you turn back to face him you drop to your knees, hands grabbing at the soft fabric of his swim shorts.

Eddie feels like he’s floating, like the scorching day got to his head and he’s having some weird fever dream hallucination. The feeling of your fingers ghosting over his happy trail and hooking under the waistband of his shorts brings him back down to earth. He sucks in a sharp breath as you tug the swim trunks down, his cock springing free a couple inches from your face. You’re mesmerized at the sight in front of you. He was big, longer than most you’ve seen but less thick. His cock seemed to stare you directly in the face, flushed pink tip leaking pre cum. A small patch of dark curls rested at the base, and his heavy balls hung low beneath. You lick your lips, cool water from the shower falling in small streams over his shoulders and down his chest. The smooth tile floor is hard against your knees, you’re sure they’ll be bruised and sore tomorrow. You grab the base of him, tapping the tip of his cock on your tongue a few times, looking up at him with wide doe eyes. Eddie hisses, grabbing fistfuls of your hair with his hands.

“Don’t be a tease, honey,” he growls down at you, and you look at him innocently.

“Me? Never,” you reply, taking the head of his cock in your mouth in one swift movement.

He inhales abruptly, then lets out a sigh as you slowly bob your head on his cock, adjusting to the warm feeling of your mouth. You take him as deep as you can, his tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around him. Eddie groans in response to this, pulling tighter on your hair, silently begging for you to do it again. You oblige, letting the head of his cock abuse your throat, mouth wide open for him.

“Fuck, baby, feels so fucking good,” Eddie’s voice is deeper than before, his eyes dark as they watch your movements.

You lean down further, sucking his balls into your mouth, letting your tongue roll over the stretchy skin. He genuinely yelps, surprised at the contact, eyes squeezed shut. You smile to yourself before sucking them into your mouth once again, Eddie’s whines and whimpers echoing throughout the walls of the building. You bring a hand up to toy with his balls as you redirect your mouth’s attention to the swollen tip of his cock, practically pleading for you to take it past your lips. Eddie’s in shambles as you lick and suck his sensitive head, cleaning the salty pre cum off with your tongue. You take him fully into your mouth again without warning, eliciting moans and curses as he steadies himself with one hand on the shower wall. The contrast between the cold water hitting his back and the sticky humid air tickling the skin of his chest made his head spin, the warmth of your mouth engulfing him only adding to the varying sensations. He feels himself inching closer and closer towards release, and he abruptly grabs your chin and pulls you gently off of him.

“Can I fuck you, baby? Need to be inside that pussy,” he’s trying to maintain his composure but the words come out like a whine, like he’s desperate for you.

You nod as you look up at him, admiring the water droplets that fall from his bangs and the tip of his nose, pussy throbbing between your thighs as his cock rests inches from your face.

“Use your words, pretty thing. Tell me I can fuck you,” Eddie coaxes you, pulling you to stand in front of him

“Yes, Eddie, please. Want you to fuck me,” your eyes are pleading and it makes his cock twitch.

He wraps his arms around to your backside, signaling for you to jump. He holds you securely, back now pressed against one of the shower walls, your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips are on yours instantly, tongue exploring the inside of your mouth with fervor as you whimper for him. His mouth travels down, kissing your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Hot tongue licking your sticky skin, the faint taste of sweat lingering. He pushes the wet fabric of your swimsuit bottoms to the side, lining himself up with your entrance. He kisses you deeply as you feel him slide into you, stretching you open just for him, velvety walls snug around his cock. He groans into your mouth, pushing himself slowly in to the hilt, and your nails claw at his back in desperation. The stretch is so good your toes curl, your body begging and screaming for more.

“P-please, Eddie, oh my god,” you whine, Eddie’s lips now attacking your neck.

“What, honey? What do you need?” Eddie purrs, big hands squeezing the soft flesh of your ass.

“Need you to move, fuck me rough Eddie, please,” you beg him, clinging to him like a vice.

He gets his bearings on the slippery floor before rutting up into you, slick sounds of wet skin on wet skin bouncing around the shower stall. Eddie gasps as his cock fills you once more, every thrust reaching so deep, his thick fingers pressing into your smooth skin as he supports your weight. You can hear faint screams and laughter from the pool outside, and the reminder of the way no one on the outside knows what Eddie’s doing to you in here makes you dizzy with desire. Eddie’s grunting with every snap of his hips, hair frizzy and bangs sticking to his forehead, a panting mess as he fucks you like his life depends on it. You’re sure your lower back will be sore after this, every jolt to your body ramming you against the wall, but you’re too drunk on Eddie to care. The way your legs are wrapped around him opens you up for his cock to hit the perfect spot inside of you, and you’re screaming his name as he pounds relentlessly into your sopping cunt.

“Yeah? Feels good, baby? You like having my cock deep inside you?” Eddie rasps into your ear, hips moving at an unforgiving pace.

The friction against your clit as his body moves against yours paired with the way his cock hits your favorite spot inside of you has you approaching your release rapidly, your body aching to let go. Eddie’s close, too, moaning out strings of curse words and praise as your walls suck him in.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey, where do you want it?” he asks breathlessly, brown eyes blown wide as they search your face.

“Inside, need it inside,” you choke the words out, so blissed out it’s hard to speak.

Eddie picks up his pace, hips stuttering as he lets himself go. You feel his cock twitch, warmth spreading inside you as he pumps you full of his cum. Your orgasm hits you the second you feel him fill you, clenching around his already spent cock, milking him for everything he’s got. Eddie presses his forehead to yours, releasing the harsh grip on your hips as he gently sets you down. Your legs tremble, cum leaking out of you and dripping down the insides of your thighs. You rinse them off with the water from the shower head, before turning it off.

“Fuck, that was hot,” Eddie pants, pulling his swim trunks up before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

“When do you get off work? Maybe you could come over after,” your voice is shy as you suggest it.

“I’m the closing guard tonight, actually. Sooo… I could totally get fired for this, but if you wanted to come back here around 8pm after lock up, I could give you some, y’know, private swimming lessons,” he smirks, cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.

“Count me in, baby. I think I’m gonna be needing lessons weekly, though…” you trail off, heavy lidded eyes looking at him as you twirl his hair around your fingers.

“I can work with that,” Eddie grins, pulling you into a kiss.

As the heat of the day eventually fades into a hazy nightfall, Hawkins residents slowly filing out of the pool and returning home, Eddie thinks of nothing but you. Billy almost slugged him for leaving him in charge for so long, but in Eddie’s book it was worth it. Sure enough, at 8pm on the dot, you saunter towards the gate to the pool. In your left hand was another popsicle.

Eddie was sure you’d be the death of him tonight.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #lifeguard!eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic

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