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landoughnut · 12 days ago

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Pit Stop Staring

♡ masterlist - request - emoji anons

♡ pairing - lando norris x mechanic!fem!reader

♡ summary - lando notices you during a pit stop, gets distracted and stares at you, and embarrasses himself on the radio being aired as he gushes over you, but with a little push from Zak, he makes his move on you!

♡ warnings - fluff, BLUSHY and nervous lando, love at first sight, a pinch of jealousy, Zak's a wing man, lando being cute and STUTTERINGGG hehehe

♡ w/c & a/n - 1.86k | #ilovetommy

Today was your first day working as a mechanic during an actual race, and you couldn't be more excited. You'd just finished your months of training and you felt pretty confident in yourself, so you weren't too nervous.

The McLaren team was more than welcoming when you first started, although some were a little apprehensive to have a girl working with the heavy tires, you proved them completely wrong and quickly gained their admiration, making friends with some as well.

As for the two papaya drivers, you had only briefly met Oscar about a month ago while leaving a meeting. He told you he was happy to be working with you soon, and he thought you will do amazing. You spoke shortly before he was being called off by someone, but he said goodbye and wished you best of luck.

The other driver, Lando, you had unfortunately not met yet. You heard quite a lot about him, and people said he was kind with a great sense of humor, so you crossed your fingers and wished you were able to catch him and introduce yourself. You also had seen some edits of him on your feed, not that you would tell anyone that, but you couldn't deny that he was quite a looker.

Back to today, though, you were waiting to see the bright papaya cars pull into the pit stop for their tire exchanges. After some laps, the first one to pull up was Oscar, and you and the others quickly got to work with a successful change in just about 2 seconds.

You beamed as he drove away and got a high five from your mechanic friend, Tommy, and he grinned at you, "That was great! And your first time too! You'll be putting me out of my job soon," he laughs.

You shake your head and poke his side, walking back to the garage, "Don't be silly! I did learn from the best," you say and give him a dramatic wink.

"Ha. Ha. You flatter me," he pats your head. You just push his arm away and turn your head to look at the race stats.

Oscar is in a good fourth place currently, and Lando in second, four seconds behind Max. You watch the race for about three more minutes before you hear that Lando was told to box next lap, so you and the mechanics rush out to the pit once again and prepare your gear.

A few moments pass before you can spot Lando's bright helmet in his car coming closer. He finally arrives and pulls up into his spot, while doing so, he glances around and his eyes land on you.

His mouth drops open slightly and he whispers a little, "Wow." Everyone does his tire change just as fast as Oscars, but Lando was still staring at you, who he thinks might be an angel sent down from above just for him.

Wow, he thinks to himself again, you have to be the most gorgeous person he's ever seen. He doesn't even realize that everyone has cleared the way for him to exit the stop until he sees you tilt your head and he hears his race engineer's voice, "Lando! GO! What are you doing, mate?!"

That snaps Lando back to reality, and he quickly drives away, now in last place due to how long he was there. He feels his neck and cheeks heat up in embarrassment. There's no way he would have a chance with you after that.

"I-I'm so sorry, she was s-so beautiful, and she looks like an a-angel, I-I got distracted," he stutters quietly to Will, his race engineer.

"Oh my- Lando this is being aired, you can't say stuff like that, mate!" Will sighs but he can't help but laugh a little bit. However Lando does the opposite now, he chews his lip like he's about to cry of humility, since now he knows you just heard him say that and you were the only girl there, so you know he had to be talking about you.

Back to where you were, you laughed at the radio message, curious to who he was stuttering over. Tommy's eyes bulge as he hears it, head whipping toward you.

You look at him and furrow your eyebrows, "What?"

He just blinds at you before yelling, "Lando Norris said you're beautiful! And look like an angel!"

"What? No he didn't?"

"Are you- who else would he be talking about?!" Tommy puts his hands on your shoulder and gently shakes you.

"Uhh," you laugh and glance at the other mechanics who are smirking and you and raising their eyebrows up and down. "I don't know, there are some women team members right over there," you point to the side.

Tommy just drops his head down and shakes it, "No. He was talking about you!"

"But.. I'm.. well, me? Just an average new mechanic," you look down at your uniform, "in some very unflattering working clothes."

Tommy just steps back and crosses his arms, "First off, don't ever say you're 'just you', because you're my best friend here," he whispers, so the others won't hear him, and you giggle. "Second, the clothes may be a little unflattering but you're still a very pretty girl," he smiles at you.

"Awhhhhh, Tommy! Who knew you were such a sap!" You hug the boy in thanks and he reciprocates it as you walk to the garage once again.

"So are you going to ask him out later?"

You almost choke on your breath, "What? No! Of course not! Are you crazy?"

He rolls his eyes, "Come on, he was just stuttering. Lando Norris was stuttering over you, if that isn't love at first sight then I don't know what is," he shrugs.

"Tommy!" You slap his arm, "We are done with this conversation."

"But-"

"End of discussion!" You huff, turning on your heels and walk away. Leaving your friend to rub his face in defeat.

When the race ended with Lando placed seventh due to the mishap from before, he hopped out of the car and rushed over to Zak.

Zak pulls the boy in for a hug and ruffles his hair, which was quite the opposite reaction Lando had thought he would see, since he cost the team points.

Once he lets go of Lando, the only thing he gets out of his mouth is, "Who was that?"

Zak lets out a laugh and tries to keep in a grin, "Who? Her?" he nods over to you, standing while chatting with Tommy again. Lando frowns as he watches you two.

"Are they dating?" he asks the older man.

"Hmm," he pretends to think about it, "yes," he nods. Of course he's only kidding, trying the get a rise out of the British boy.

"What?" Lando's head snaps to the man, looking utterly devastated. Zak starts laughing loudly, looking at him, and thinks this is what the human version of a kicked puppy would look like.

"I'm only joking, buddy, why don't you go and ask her?" Zak pats Lando's shoulder.

"U-uh I don't know...."

"Oh, come on! You're Lando Norris!"

The boy sighs and looks at you longingly. That was until you glanced over at him and he quickly turned back to Zak, his face now turning red again at being caught. "What about no work relationships?"

Zak sighs and shakes his head, "Listen, I'll talk to people about it and I'll make it work, okay?" He smiles and Lando lets his lips twitch into a tiny smile. "Now, go get your girl!" He turns his shoulders and pushes him forward a little bit.

Lando blinks fast and his heart races as he nervously makes his way over to you two.

You don't notice but Tommy does and bites back a teasing comment. "Lando Norris! The legendary man himself!"

You look to your right and see the boy bouncing slightly on his feet, twisting his hands and he looks back and forth between you both. "H-hi," he whispers to you, his ears turning red at your kind gaze.

"Hi! It's nice to finally meet you," you smile at him.

Tommy nods, "Yeah, and nice radio message today, man, real smooth," he chuckles.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando now wishes the floor would swallow him whole. "Uh, y-yeah, thanks?"

Tommy just laughs, "Oh! I think someone is calling me, gotta go!"

You watch him walk away, and Lando glares at him. "Did you hear someone calling him?" you ask.

"No, but, um, I-I'm sorry for today, a-and I didn't-"

You quickly shake your head and smile, "No! Don't apologize, really! I'm honored!" You put your hand on his arm, causing him to tense. You quickly remove it and apologize, "I'm so sorry! I should have asked-"

"N-No!" Lando says, and Zak drops his head into his hands as he watches the scene from afar. "You can touch me anytime! I-I mean- bloody hell- n-not like that! I mean you can if you wa-" he slaps a hand over his mouth before he can embarrass himself and more.

You just blush as you watch the boy, you find it endearing, to be honest, you've never had someone act like this with you before. "Lando! Please, don't worry, I think your rambling is cute, and... you yourself are cute too," you put your hands behind your back.

"Me? Really? You think I'm c-cute?" He lets out a nervous laugh in disbelief.

"Is that so hard to believe?" You frown.

"I... guess not.. but you're.. you! W-way out of my league..." he trails off.

"You have to be joking!"

He just looks down at his feet and smiles, his body slowly untensing as he feels a little less nervous. It's not that he's stuttering and blushing because he's scared of you, he's just never met someone so... perfect.

He slowly raises his eyes back up to look at you, "Well... then would you m-maybe want to... get dinner with me later?"

Your smile widens at the hopeful look in his eyes, you pinch your arm once, just to be sure this is really happening and not a dream. "Of course! Oh, I'd love to, would you like my number to send me the details?" you ask him.

He nods and pats his pocket for his phone, "Oh! I left my phone in my driver's room... but if you have yours, I'll give you mine?"

"Sure," you nod and hand him your phone, watching as he creates a contact for himself. "Well, I do have to go back, I promised my friends to hang out for a bit after the race but I'll see you later," you tell him.

He smiles at you, "Alright, see you!"

You turn around, walking to your friends who were giggling to themselves, watching the whole thing.

Lando is left in his spot, practically lovestruck, "What a woman," he whispers to himself dreamily.

He jumps with a yelp when he feels a hand on his shoulder, "Well done, kid! You got yourself a date!"

Lando turns to look at a way too excited Zak Brown, "Yeah... I suppose I did."

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daryltwdixon · 15 days ago

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Joel Miller x Reader Just Coffee II

part two to this fic

Summary: Joel picks you up after a long day, taking you somewhere small and familiar, where conversation flows as easily as the wine. As the night winds down and Joel insists on driving you home, neither of you are ready to say goodbye quite yet.

warnings: some plot mostly smut 18+ MDNI

notes: this fic takes place in fantasy land where pinv doesn't end up in pregnancy ok thank you have a nice day. wrap it up in real life ok? im obsessed with this pre-outbreak Joel. I feel like I read & edited this til my eyes were bleeding, please lmk if you find mistakes

The evening rush had just died down when Joel walked through the door of the coffee shop again that day, his presence filling the small space. It felt easier, more relaxed now that he’d gotten used to coming around more.

You glanced up from wiping down the counters, already feeling the exhaustion from a long shift settling into your bones.

“I thought we were meeting later?” you asked, arching a brow as you tossed the rag over your shoulder.

Joel leaned his hip against the counter, arms crossed, his hazel eyes flicking over you—messy apron, sleeves pushed up, hair slightly frizzed from the long day.

“Figured I’d pick you up,” he said, ever casual. “Walk you out.”

You let out a small groan, rubbing your hands over your face. “But I smell like coffee and milk and—” you sniffed your sleeve dramatically, “—probably cleaning supplies. Real cute first date material.”

Joel smirked, one hand rubbing along his jaw. “Well, I smell like sweat and sawdust, so maybe it’ll cancel out.”

You snorted. “If you say so,”

He shrugged. “Guess we’ll just have to suffer through it together.”

That made you smile, warmth creeping up your neck despite yourself.

“Don’t worry,” he added, his voice dipping a little softer. “Second date, I’ll take you somewhere fancy. But tonight, I got somewhere I think you’ll like,”

You swallowed, your heart giving a little unexpected flutter. A second date. Meaning he had plans on seeing you way more than just for one night. And damn did you like the sound of that.

“Fine,” you sighed, pretending to be more put out than you actually were as you untied your apron. “But if I smell like an espresso machine all night, that’s on you,.”

Joel just chuckled, stepping back to let you close up.

You expected him to take you to some hole-in-the-wall diner or maybe just grab a quick bite somewhere. But instead, he walked with you down the quieter streets of the small downtown, until he stopped next to a small, tucked-away Italian restaurant with a hand-painted sign and a cozy glow spilling from the windows.

It wasn’t flashy, wasn’t trying too hard—it was the kind of place people probably came to for years, passing it down like a family secret.

“You ever been here?” he asked as he held the door open.

You shook your head. “Didn’t even know it existed.”

The second you stepped inside, warmth wrapped around you—the scent of garlic and tomatoes simmering low, fresh bread baking, the low hum of conversation filling the intimate space. String lights hung loosely across the ceiling, casting a soft golden glow over the rustic wooden tables. A candle flickered at every one, pooling small halos of light between plates of pasta and glasses of deep red wine.

“You eat here a lot?” you asked him as he stepped in behind you.

Joel shook his head. “Did some work on the building a few years back. Owners fed me a few times.” He shrugged, like it was nothing. “Keep comin’ back when I can.”

As if on cue, an older man in a white apron emerged from the kitchen, his eyes lighting up as soon as he saw Joel. He walked straight up to him, clapping him on the shoulder with a familiarity that made your brows lift.

“Miller!” the man greeted, grinning wide. He rattled something off in rapid, affectionate Italian, gesturing around the restaurant. Joel huffed out a low laugh, shaking his head.

“Good to see you too, Sal,” Joel said.

Sal patted his shoulder again, his thick fingers pressing into the fabric of Joel’s shirt like he was testing its strength. "Still workin’ with that stronzo fratellino, eh?"

Joel chuckled. “You bet.”

Sal scoffed, shaking his head. “Tsk. He was never as good with his hands as you.” He turned to you with a wink. “My best man here, best muratore in town! Fixed this place up when the siding was fallin’ off my dannata walls! Quick, clean—like an artista, eh?”

Sal laughed when Joel only shook his head, a red flush creeping up his face as he looked at you apologetically.

"Sit, sit! Please, eat whatever you like! I get you wine—" Sal finally let go of Joel, waving over the hostess with an urgency like he was hosting royalty.

“You’re quite the celebrity, Joel,” you teased, glancing up at him as the two of you followed behind to your table.

Joel sighed, shaking his head as he rubbed the back of his neck, “I promise I didn’t bring you here for that—the food’s just real good,”

“Uh-huh,” you smirked, amused, as the hostess stopped at a cozy table by the window.

Sal came back over with a bottle of wine, winking at you before heading back toward the kitchen. “Enjoy dinner, eh?”

You watched him go, then turned back to Joel, arching a brow. “So, you’re with your hands, huh?” remembering what the man said a few minutes ago.

Joel picked up the menu and hid his face. “Don’t start.”

You bit your lip, amused, and looked down at your own menu.

The dinner itself was nice.

The kind of nice that snuck up on you, unfolding in a way that felt natural, easy, like you’d done this a dozen times before.

Joel was quiet, soft spoken, but asked a lot of questions. Not just the polite kind, but ones with weight, ones that made you pause before answering. He wanted to know how you got into coffee—if it was something you always loved, or if it just happened. What made you decide to open your own shop instead of working somewhere else. If you liked being your own boss, if it was worth the stress.

And he listened, really listened, nodding as you spoke, his hazel eyes steady on you. Every now and then, he’d ask something that made you stop and think, something no one had ever really asked before.

“You ever picture yourself doin’ anything else?” he asked at one point, twirling the stem of his wine glass between two fingers.

You blinked, caught off guard. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I guess I never thought about it. The shop is mine. My whole world’s kind of wrapped up in it.”

Joel hummed, watching you carefully. “But it makes you happy.” It wasn’t quite a question, but more an observation.

“Yeah, yeah it does.” you answered with a smile, then tilted your head. “What about you? Do you like what you do?”

Joel exhaled through his nose, thinking. “Don’t know if anyone likes workin’,” he admitted, then nodded a thanks to the waiter as he set down your meals. “But can’t think of anythin’ else I’d be doin’. Ain’t the type to be sittin’ in a stuffy cubicle and all.”

You smirked, picking up your fork. “Oh, I don’t know… I think you’d look real nice in a suit and tie.”

Joel let out a quiet huff, shaking his head as he cut into his food. “Yeah? And what, you see me sittin’ at some fancy desk, makin’ phone calls all day?”

“I dunno,” you teased, shrugging. “Something about you in a tie just works for me.”

Joel shot you a look, amused, before taking a sip of his drink. “Maybe I’ll show up to your shop one day in one, just to surprise ya,”

“Oh, that’ll be the day,” you giggle.

The rest of dinner went by too quickly for your liking.

Joel told you about the different jobs he’d done over the years—how he liked working with his hands, how there was something satisfying about building something solid, something that would last. There was a quiet kind of pride in his voice, nothing boastful, just a man who knew the value of hard work, of making something real.

In return, you traded stories about your most memorable customers—the regulars, the weird orders like the ones who asked for 50 different flavors in one iced coffee. Joel countered with tales of difficult clients, stubborn contractors, and one particularly bad job where a homeowner swore they knew more about construction than he did.

And when Joel chuckled at a particularly funny story, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners, you began to realize—God, you liked seeing him like this. Relaxed. Comfortable. Like maybe, just maybe, he liked being here with you, too.

And before you knew it, the waiter was coming by with the check, and the night was ending far sooner than you wanted.

The evening air was warm as you stepped out of the restaurant, your cheeks still flushed from the wine and the lingering glow of good company. Sal had insisted on treating you both with large helpings of his homemade tiramisu—claiming you couldn’t leave until you were properly fed.

Joel had muttered something about not needing dessert, but you’d watched him polish off his plate without complaint.

Outside, the street was quiet, the warm light of the restaurant spilling out onto the sidewalk as the door swung shut behind you.

“That man is dangerous,” you groaned, placing a hand over your stomach. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life.”

Joel huffed out a small laugh, slipping his hands into his pockets. “Could’ve said no.”

You scoffed. “And risk offending him? No way. I’d be blacklisted for life.”

Joel smirked, shaking his head before glancing around. “Where’s your car?”

You blinked up at him. “Oh, I walked.”

Joel’s brows pulled together. “You walk to work?”

“I live close by,” you shrugged.

Joel exhaled sharply, already looking like he was making up his mind, “Let me drive you—”

“Oh, no, it’s really okay—”

“I insist,” he said, and before you could argue, his hand found the small of your back.

Heat shot through you, electric despite how warm and gentle his palm was. You exhaled, smiling, and knew there was no point in arguing. Not when he was looking at you like that—stern, certain in a caring sort of way. So you didn’t fight it.

He walked beside you, his stride slow, deliberate. The night air was perfect with summer warmth and a cooling breeze, the quiet hum of the city stretching out around you, but you couldn't help the way that everything else had narrowed down to him—the sound of his boots against the pavement, the occasional brush of his hand near yours, close enough to feel the warmth but not quite touching.

He made a little conversation, but he was quieter now, more thoughtful. He asked about your family, where they were, if they ever came to visit. If you had much of a life outside of the shop or if it kept you too busy.

You answered easily, finding that with him, it was just...easy.

Joel didn’t fill the silence just to talk—he let it linger, let you breathe, let it settle into something comfortable, something that felt like it had always been there.

By the time you reached his truck, you realized just how much you liked that about him. And how much you liked him.

Joel reached for the handle, about to open the door for you, ever the gentleman.

But then he hesitated. His fingers curled around the handle, but he didn’t pull. Instead, he exhaled, slow and measured, his jaw ticking as he turned to look at you.

His gaze flickered—your eyes, your mouth, then back again—just in time for you to feel it, that slow-building heat simmering between you.

“Screw it,” he muttered.

And then his hands were on you.

One at your waist, the other coming up to cradle your jaw, his rough thumb sweeping over your cheek as he pulled you into him, his lips crashing into yours with the kind of weight that sent your heart slamming into your ribs.

The breath hitched in your throat, and for a second—just a second—you forgot how to do anything but feel.

It was slow but heavy and intentional, like he’d spent all night trying to fight the urge and finally gave in. He kissed like a man who knew exactly what he wanted. It was steady, claiming, not the kind of frantic desperation you’d expect from someone who couldn’t hold back.

No, Joel took his damn time.

His lips parted against yours, deepening the kiss, pulling you further into him. His hand slipped from your jaw, fingers threading into your hair, holding you exactly where he wanted as he kissed you again, his tongue venturing past your lips, sliding along yours in a way that made you turn molten.

You gasped softly, pressing closer, your hands gripping the front of his shirt, needing something to hold onto because God—he was overwhelming in the best way.

Joel groaned low in his throat, like he’d finally let himself indulge, like this was something he’d been starving for. His grip on your waist tightened, guiding you until your back hit the truck, his body bracketing yours against the cool metal, broad and solid and so damn warm.

“You gonna open the door or what?” you teased breathlessly, between kisses, your lips brushing against his.

Joel huffed, his nose dragging along your cheek. “You in some kinda hurry?” Joel’s lips ghosted along your jaw, trailing down the column of your throat, pressing slow, lingering kisses against your skin, each one making you melt further into him.

You let out a soft, breathy sigh, and Joel chuckled low against your neck, his breath hot. “Didn’t answer my question.”

You barely remembered what he asked. Your brain was fogged, drowning in the way he felt against you, the way his body crowded yours against the truck, solid and warm.

“No,” you managed, voice breathless. “No hurry.”

“Good to hear,” Joel muttered.

And then, in one fluid motion, he scooted you over, swung the door open, and hooked an arm around your waist—lifting you effortlessly, like you weighed nothing. A startled gasp left your lips as he set you down onto the worn leather seat of his truck before you could even process the shift.

You barely had a second to catch your breath before Joel climbed in after you, the door shutting with a heavy thunk, sealing you both inside. The space between you was nonexistent—all heat, all him, his presence pressing into you, crowding you in the best way.

You thanked whatever lucky stars you had that it was dark, that Joel’s truck had tinted windows, because none of it would’ve stopped you anyway. Not when you were already leaning back into him, your fingers trailing up, brushing over the scruff along his jaw.

Joel’s hand slid up your thigh, fingers curling, anchoring himself as he kissed you deeper, tilting his head to taste you fully. His other hand found your jaw, rough fingertips dragging over your skin, tilting your face toward him like he couldn’t stand even an inch of space between you.

You sighed against his mouth, pressing closer, nails scratching lightly against the denim of his jeans. He groaned, low and deep, swallowing the sound. Then, suddenly, his grip shifted, strong hands wrapping around your waist as he pulled you forward until you were straddling his lap.

A breath hitched in your throat, hands bracing against his broad chest as your knees pressed into the seat on either side of him. The new position had you flush against him, heat radiating between you, the space inside the truck growing impossibly small.

Joel’s eyes flickered up to yours, searching, giving you a chance to stop this before it went any further.

But you didn’t want to stop. So you kissed him again. Deeper. Hungrier.

Joel groaned, his hands sliding up your thighs, rough palms trailing over denim now, gripping just enough to make your breath catch. His mouth was hot, insistent, kissing you like he was trying to memorize the shape of your lips, the taste of you, the way you sighed his name when he tilted his head to deepen it.

“I don’t usually—” you began, panting as you broke from the kiss for just a moment, lips still brushing his. “I don’t usually do this on a first date, just so you know.”

“Me neither,” Joel muttered quickly, voice rough, his breath warm against your skin. His fingers laced through your hair, tangling at the base of your neck as he pulled you closer, like the space between you was too much to bear.

His other hand trailed down, squeezing at your waist before gripping the waistband of your jeans. His fingers dipped just under the fabric, teasing, sending a shiver up your spine.

“Think you can get these off for me, sweetheart?” he rasped, his voice thick with want.

Your breath caught, “H-here?”

Joel huffed, smirking just a little, his thumb brushing back and forth over the waistband, slow and teasing. “Ain’t nobody around. Just us.” His eyes flicked up to meet yours, steady, certain. “Unless you really wanna stop.”

He was giving you another chance to pull away, to tell him no, and you knew if you said the word, he’d back off immediately.

But hell no. You shook your head, breathless. “No. No stopping.”

Joel’s smirk deepened, approval flashing in his darkened gaze. “That’s my girl.”

Your fingers trembled as you reached for the button of your jeans, fumbling slightly. Joel exhaled a soft chuckle, amused but patient, pressing another slow, open-mouthed kiss to your throat as his hands ran up and down your thighs, steadying you.

You finally got the zipper down, lifting your hips slightly as you started pushing them down, but Joel’s hands took over, firm and unhurried, hooking his fingers under the waistband and dragging them down your legs in one slow, smooth motion.

The second the denim was gone, his hands ran back up your bare thighs, gripping at the flesh of your ass, his gaze locked on you like he needed to commit this to memory.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel muttered, his voice wrecked, pupils blown wide as he devoured you with his eyes. “Knew you had a great ass—couldn’t stop starin’ at it this mornin’.”

A flush spread through your body at his words, pooling low in your belly, but you could barely focus, too wrapped up in him, in the way he felt beneath you. Despite his claim earlier that he smelled like sweat and sawdust, you thought he smelled addicting—pure masculine heat, sweat and musk, with the faintest hint of whatever cologne or deodorant still clung to his skin. It was him, and it made you dizzy.

Heat curled low in your belly, especially when he tugged you down against him, pressing you right where you needed him, letting you feel all of him—hard, thick, pressing into the thin barrier of your panties.

A quiet moan slipped from your lips, and that sound did something to him.

“Oh, you make the sweetest little noises, baby,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he rocked you against him, his hands guiding your hips so you could feel just how much he wanted you.

His lips found your neck again, kissing, nipping, working their way lower, and you whimpered when they reached your shoulder, his fingers toying with the hem of your top.

“Think I wanna see more of you,” Joel muttered, voice thick and rough like gravel. His hands dragged up your sides, thumbs skimming the curve of your ribs. “Lift your arms for me.”

And you did—because you wanted more too. Needed it.

Joel peeled your top off slowly, taking his time, hissing when your bare skin was revealed beneath the dim light filtering through the truck’s fogged windows. His hands ghosted over you, calloused fingertips brushing along your collarbone, down to the tops of your breasts, his eyes dark as they devoured you.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” he muttered, mostly to himself, his rough fingers slipping beneath the band of your bra, teasing. You squirmed in his lap, eager, desperate for something, arching into his touch.

Joel huffed a quiet chuckle, his lips curling as his fingers came up to pull the cups of your bra down and began palming your breasts in both hands, squeezing just enough to make you gasp.

“That feel good, baby?” he rasped, watching your reaction as his thumbs brushed over your nipples, circling, teasing.

“Y-yeah,” you breathed, fingers digging into his shoulders.

Joel smirked, then pinched lightly, rolling the sensitive flesh between his fingers. You moaned, head tipping back, arching into his hands.

“That’s it,” he murmured, leaning in, dragging his lips down the exposed column of your throat, over your collarbone. Then he licked along the swell of your breast before finally closing his mouth over your nipple, sucking slow and deep.

You gasped, gripping his hair, your hips instinctively grinding down against him. The friction sent a rush of heat pooling low in your belly, the hard line of him pressing right against you.

Joel groaned against your skin, releasing your nipple with a wet pop before switching to the other, giving it the same slow, torturous attention.

“Joel,” you whimpered, rolling your hips against him again, the need in you growing unbearable.

He hummed, his hands sliding down, gripping your ass, grinding you down harder against him, “You’re so needy, baby,” he muttered, his lips ghosting along your jaw. “Bet you’re already drippin’ for me, huh?”

You nodded frantically, panting, whimpering, grinding against him, desperate for more.

Joel’s hand slipped between you, his fingers slipping to cup your covered mound, feeling the dampness that had seeped through the fabric. He sucked in air through his teeth as his fingers pressed firmly, rubbing slow, teasing circles. “You’re fuckin’ soaked, baby. This all for me?” he teased, “Huh?”

You gasped when his fingers would press and sometimes skim along your bare skin, running along the lace, teasing, pressing just enough to make your thighs shake.

“Please,” you breathed, writhing against him, desperate for more.

Joel hummed approvingly, slipping beneath the fabric, his fingers spreading through your slick folds, teasing your clit before dipping lower, barely pushing inside.

“Look at you,” he muttered, voice rough. “Takin’ my fingers so easy.”

You moaned, body shuddering as he continued to rub gentle circles around your clit before finally pushing two fingers inside, stretching you just enough to make your breath catch in your lungs. Joel groaned, watching you, drinking in every sound, every gasp, his fingers working slow and deep, curling just right to have your whole body shaking.

Your hips rocked into his hand, grinding against the heel of his palm, pleasure building fast, coiling tight in your belly. He smirked, his thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing tight, slow circles that had your legs trembling around his hips.

“You gonna come for me, already, sweetheart?” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “Come on my fingers before I fuck you?”

You gasped, “Yes, yes–” your fingers digging into his shoulders, your body locking up as the coil snapped in your belly, pleasure ripping through you in waves as you cried out, coming hard against his hand.

Joel groaned, his head falling forward to kiss your sweaty skin, feeling the way you pulsed around his fingers, his cock twitching hard beneath you.

“That’s my girl,” Joel muttered, his voice wrecked as he slowly pulled his fingers from you, slick and shining in the dim light. You stopped breathing as he brought them to his mouth, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reaction as he licked them clean, his tongue dragging slow over his fingers. “So fuckin’ sweet,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly, like he was ruined by the taste of you.

Once he licked his fingers clean, he brought them to your lips and rasped, “Open,”

A wicked smile crossed your lips as you parted them obediently, letting him slide his fingers onto your tongue. Joel groaned low in his throat, watching you intently, his pupils blown wide as your lips closed around his digits.

You didn’t just take them—you sucked, hollowing your cheeks, your tongue teasing along his fingertips, slow and deliberate.

Joel’s smirk fell as his whole body tensed beneath you, muscles going taut as his free hand dug into your hip, hard, like he was barely hanging on. A low, guttural groan tore from his throat, and suddenly, his slick fingers left your mouth, his hand moving to your throat—firm but careful—pulling you down to him, kissing you again. It was hungry, needy, open and wet, all tongue and heat, like he had to taste you again, like the last few minutes of teasing had finally broken something in him.

You moaned against his mouth, shifting in his lap, feeling the thick, solid length of him pressing right where you needed it most. Joel hissed at the friction, his fingers tightening on your waist. Then his hands moved, gripping your hips, holding you there as he worked open his belt, the soft clink of metal making your stomach tighten. The zipper came next, slow and deliberate, the sound loud in the thick silence between you. You watched as he freed himself, his thick cock pressing hot and heavy against your inner thigh.

Joel’s eyes flicked up to yours, dark and dangerous, his jaw tight with restraint, “Still want this baby?”

“Yes,” you breathed, kissing his face, his neck, nipping and biting at his throat as his hands worked himself. You lifted yourself up to give him better access to you. “Want you so badly, Joel.”

He grunted at the sound of his name on your lips, so low and wrecked and needy for him. Reaching down, he hooked his fingers beneath the soaked fabric of your panties, dragging them to the side. His other hand gripped his cock, dragging the tip through your slick pussy, teasing, pressing just enough to make you whimper.

“Joel—”

“I know, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with restraint, positioning himself right at your entrance. “Go on. Take what you need.”

You didn’t hesitate, sinking down onto him slowly, gasping as he stretched you, filling you inch by inch until he was seated deep inside you.

Joel’s head fell back against the headrest, his hands flying to your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh there.

“Jesus fuck,” he gritted out, his thighs tensing beneath you as he held himself still. “You’re—fuck, baby, you’re squeezin’ me so goddamn tight,"

You moaned, feeling every inch of him pulsing inside you, stretching you in the most delicious way. You barely had a chance to catch your breath before he rocked his hips up into you, and your head snapped up at the force, making you look up just in time to see a familiar face out the back window.

“Oh shit—Tommy.”

Joel’s entire body went rigid, “Please do not tell me you just—“

“No—Tommy,” you hissed, ducking down as far as you could, but it only added more friction, making Joel’s cock pulse inside you.

He grunted sharply, his fingers digging in harder to steady you, his jaw clenched like he was trying so hard not to react to the way you just squeezed around him.

Then, a truck door slammed shut.

“Hey, ain’t this Joel’s?” Tommy’s voice rang out, just outside, “Thought he left hours ago,”

Joel’s eyes snapped open, wild and alert. In an instant, his arm shot out, slamming the lock button with a sharp click.

Your heart raced, your hands scrambling to tug your shirt back over your head as Joel shifted beneath you, one hand still firm on your waist, the other reaching toward the door controls.

“Is he in there?” Tommy muttered to himself. The sound of boots crunching against gravel got closer.

Joel rolled down the window—but only a few inches, just enough for Tommy to see his face and nothing else.

Joel’s expression was thunderous. “The fuck do you want?”

Tommy’s brows raised. “Damn, hello to you too,” he muttered, squinting between the tinted glass. “I been callin’ you. You never got back to the landscaper—”

Tommy blinked. His brows lifted slightly.

“Well, hell,” he said, smirking. “That the coffee shop girl?”

You, still catching your breath, gave a little nod, “Hey Tommy,”

Tommy grinned. “Joel never shuts up about your coffee.”

Joel groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “Jesus Christ.”

Tommy’s smirk widened, shifting his weight onto one hip, arms crossed over his chest. “Well, you guys comin’ or what? Bout to head down to Jameson’s Bar down the street with some of the guys.”

The good thing was—from Tommy’s point of view—it probably just looked like a hot and heavy makeout session in the truck. He couldn’t see that Joel was, in fact, inside you. Your eyes flicked up to Joel’s face, still locked in frustration, his jaw clenched, his breathing ragged. And just because you could, just because you had to—you rocked your hips just a little. Joel choked on his own breath, his whole body seizing, his hands flying to your waist in warning. His eyes darted to you in a look that might kill you if you didn’t feel the betraying feeling of his cock twitch inside your cunt.

You bit your lip, eyes flicking down at Joel, voice sweet as honey, “Was just about to.”

Joel’s eyes flashed, his fingers pinching your ass hard in retaliation. You yelped, causing your body to twist up and into him, and he had to swallow his groan.

Then, suddenly, Tommy’s expression shifted.

His eyes flicked between the both of you—Joel looking wrecked, breath uneven, a little too flushed for the cool evening breeze, and you, doing your best to keep your face neutral while subtly adjusting yourself in his lap.

Tommy’s head tilted. His mouth parted.

And then, slowly, a knowing smirk crept onto his face.

“No way,” he breathed, realization dawning. “You are not—”

“Tommy—” Joel ground out, voice low and warning.

But it was too late.

Tommy burst out laughing, doubling over, hands on his knees.

Joel exhaled sharply, hands twitching on your waist, his patience hanging by a thread. “Swear to God—”

You, on the other hand, were trying very, very hard to keep a straight face.

Tommy finally straightened up, wiping at his eyes, still grinning like an idiot. “Man, you gotta be kidding me.”

“Get outta here,” Joel said between his teeth.

Tommy held his hands up in mock surrender, taking a step back from the truck. “Hey, hey, I ain’t judgin’—I just never thought I’d see the day my big brother was gettin’ it on in a goddamn parking lot like a damn teenager.”

Joel groaned, glaring daggers at him. “You done?”

Tommy smirked, but started backing toward his truck. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone.” He shot you a wink. “You take care now, darlin’.”

You smiled sweetly. “I will, Tommy.”

Joel huffed sharply, clearly done with this entire situation.

You kept an eye on Tommy as he finally slid into his truck, still shaking his head as he fired up the engine. Before he pulled away, he called out—

“Don’t do nothin’ I wouldn’t do!”

Joel slammed the window up before you could reply.

The second Tommy’s taillights disappeared down the road, Joel let out a long, deep breath, his grip on your waist still iron-tight.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he muttered, shaking his head.

You giggled, biting your lip, still settled in his lap, still pulsing around him.

Joel’s gaze snapped to you.

“You think this is funny?” he asked, voice thick, dark.

You blinked at him innocently, then, just to test him, you rolled your hips slowly, feeling his cock move deep inside you again. Both of you moaned at the feeling.

“You’re playin’ with fire, sweetheart,” he warned, his voice low, rough.

“Mmm but you love it,” you smiled.

Joel growled, his patience finally snapping. His hands tightened, yanking you down against him, grinding your soaked heat over him slow and deep.

You gasped, your fingers flying to his shoulders, nails digging in as he began to set a rhythm, his hips rocking up to meet yours, filling you over and over again.

“Fuckin' hell, girl,” Joel gritted out as your forehead dropped against his, “You love this, don’t you?”

You could barely breathe, pleasure pooling low and hot, winding tight in your belly, “Y-yes, feels s–s–so good,” you gasped, rolling your hips faster, chasing the high that had been aching inside you since the moment he first touched you.

Joel’s lips crashed into yours, swallowing the moan that tore from your throat as his hips snapped up into you, deep and slow at first, like he wanted you to feel every inch of him. You whimpered, fingers fisting in the shoulders of his shirt, clinging to him as the pleasure started to coil, winding tighter and tighter with every drag of his cock inside you.

“Oh god,” you gasped, barely able to breathe, barely able to think beyond the feel of him filling you, stretching you, hitting the perfect spot over and over.

“That’s it, baby—just like that,” he murmured, his voice rough, his arms wrapping around you as he rocked up to meet you.

You moved with him, rolling your hips, your body seeking more, chasing it, the friction and heat spiraling higher, hotter, pleasure building until it felt like you were seconds from snapping.

Joel must’ve felt it, the way you were trembling, the way your body clenched tighter around him, because his grip on you tightened, guiding you faster, pushing you closer, until—

“Come on now, hunny–you all talk or you really gonna cum?” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with need. “Let me have it, wanna feel you.”

And that—his words, his voice, the command in it—was what undid you.

A sharp, wrecked moan tore from your lips as the pressure snapped, pleasure crashing over you in waves, your whole body shuddering and twitching as you clenched tight around him, pulsing, shaking, coming undone in his lap.

Joel groaned loudly, his head tipping back against the headrest, his jaw tight, his breath shattering as he thrust up into you, once, twice—

And then he followed, his grip bruising on your body as he buried himself deep, a low, guttural sound tearing from his throat as he came, spilling hot inside you, his whole body locking up before relaxing, spent, wrecked.

The truck fell into silence, save for the sound of your ragged breathing, the sticky heat between you, the feel of his arms still gripping you, like he wasn’t ready to let go just yet.

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, forehead dropping to his shoulder. “Holy shit.”

Joel exhaled sharply, a huffed-out chuckle against your chest. “Yeah.”

You stayed like that for a moment, neither of you moving, just breathing each other in, the moment settling between you.

Finally, Joel ran a slow, warm hand up your spine, his voice still gravelly when he spoke.

“So.” A beat. “We ain’t goin’ to Jameson’s, huh?”

You laughed, shaking your head against his shoulder. “Not a chance.”

Joel smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple.

“Good.”

#just coffee joel #Joel miller #Joel miller x reader #Joel miller x you #Joel miller smut #smutty one shot #Joel miller tlou #tlou #Joel miller the last of us #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #Joel miller fanfic #Joel miller one shot #Joel miller fanfiction #Joel miller smutty #Tommy cameo

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suckerforblondeathletes · 8 months ago

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She's busy - Kk Arnold

Kk Arnold x fem!reader

Summary: When Kayla and Jana go live, everyone wonders where Kk is.

Warnings: A little suggestive.. cussing

Authors note: This is based off the live from tonight! This is short but enjoy!

Kayla, Jana, Aubrey, and Morgan were watching edits of each other on tiktok while on live. Laughing and being extremely loud, when are they not, but of course everyone was asking questions that has nothing to do with the people in the room.

"Where is Paige?" Morgan repeats a comment from behind the camera, Kayla looks to the camera and shrugs.

Not even 10 minutes later, Paige and Azzi show up from the hallway, causing them to scream and chant loudly Paige and Azzi's name.

Paige comes around the camera to say hey to Aubrey as Morgan reads out another comment.

"Where is Kk?" This causes Paige, as well as everyone on the camera, to look at each other and give knowing smiles, causing everyone to start laughing and the comments go crazy wondering what Kk could possibly be doing that's so funny.

meanwhile

In Kks room, the LED lights were set on a red and the lighting was so low it almost was off, and RNB was quietly playing on her speaker in the corner of the room.

You were currently straddling Kks lap, the comforter covering most of your ass, and her legs. Her hands on your hips and moving to your ass, squeezing every couple of seconds.

You hands were on the back of her neck, pulling her closer as her tongue was in your mouth, her back against the head board, and her shirt off, only in a black nike sports bra and basketball shorts.

It was date night for the two of you and you both went to the movies, she decided to get touchy at fucking inside out 2 and you both went home immediately after it was finished.

Thats show you got here, on her lap making out with her while her friends were on live in the other room.

They all knew what y'all were doing in that room and they started whispering about it behind the camera.

"Guys I think I'm going to have to end the live, they are sharing secrets." Kayla says, watching the exchange between Paige, Azzi, and Aubrey.

They start laughing and start whispering more about what could be going on behind the door, until one of them says Kks name too loud, and Kayla grabs the phone and quickly says, "Okay guys goodbye! Azzi say goodbye!" Before half cutting her off and ending it.

"You go." Paige pushes Aubrey from the door way of her room, its 20 minutes after the live and Aubrey, Paige, and Kayla are messing with you and Kk.

"No bitch you go." Aubrey whisper yells before turning around and pushing Paige.

"Fine, I'm going to bang on the door and run back, okay?" Both Aubrey and Kayla nod and watch as Paige walks slowly up to the door.

She hesitates for a moment before banging loudly on Kk's door three times, running back to her room before Aubrey slams her door shut and locks it, leaving her in the hallway.

#uconn wbb #wbb x reader #paige bueckers #kk arnold x reader #kk arnold #aubrey griffin #kayla williams #jana el alfy

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animangabwedit · 1 year ago

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Kimi ni Nidome no Sayonara wo by Tanaka Tomo & Takogawa Takomaru

#kimi ni nidome no sayonara wo #a second goodbye to you #manga #seinen #manga panel #mangacap #manga cap #manga edit #monochrome #black and white #animangabwedit

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st0ryf1lms · 8 months ago

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is it really you? ➳ ken sato

pairing: ken sato x reader

word count: 866

genre/warnings: fluff, sort of a crack fic, 3+1 things, wrote this with a sarcastic tone LMAO, a bit of profanity, grammatical errors most likely (wrote this at 1AM), reader uses fem pronouns

synopsis: the 3 times kenji sato swore he saw you, and the 1 time he actually saw you.

a/n: yes, i'm finally giving in to the kenji sato brainrot HUHUHUH if i had known he was the reason my writer's block would disappear, would've watched the movie sooner i'm ngl edit: AAAAAA WHAT 600+ NOTES??? U GUYS ARE INSANEEE I LOVE YOU ALL this is now up on my ao3!!

At the New Tokyo Dome at his first game as a Giants player

Maybe he was just dreaming, maybe it was the fatigue actually catching up to him ever since he hopped off that plane, or maybe he did actually see you in that stadium amongst the crowd cheering his name. You, as in his childhood best friend, arguably one of the best parts of his childhood in Japan before leaving for LA. You, as in the childhood best friend he never got to say a proper goodbye to. You, as in the childhood best friend whom he always missed and cried to his mom about whenever he'd get homesick. (You, as in the childhood best friend he'd harbored a secret crush on as a kid. As an adult? Psh, what sane person gets hung up on a person who must've forgotten him all those years ago. Not Ken Sato, for sure, yeah, uh-huh.) He'd never know for certain, of course, because as he was about to stop and look, a Kaiju crashed a KDF plane into the ceiling of the stadium.

KAIJU ALERT, his watch blared in an angry red face. He sighed, making his way to the nearest stadium exit and heading towards the dimly-lit part of the street by the stadium. Not without stopping for a split second because he thought he saw your silhouette. Silhouette, really? My God, Kenji, pull yourself together, he told himself. Of course, that wouldn’t be your silhouette because he definitely doesn’t know what you look like anymore, what food you like, what your job is, how you held up after he left for LA. Of course, he doesn’t know that.

Shaking off any more thoughts of you, Kenji turned into his giant alter-ego to fight off the Kaiju wreaking havoc on the streets of Tokyo. (a distraction, really, as Mina would say.)

2. On a grocery run looking exhausted as hell.

It had been two weeks since he took in the baby kaiju in his basement and Kenji Sato has never been more exhausted. If you ask him, exhausted would be an understatement. Nevertheless, his mind was actually alive (much to Mina's surprise) because he swears this time, that he actually saw you. With his own two eyes. As if locked in a daze, he secretly followed you like a lost puppy with a push cart in the grocery store before realizing you were heading for the exit. He stopped in his tracks as the doors opened for you, realizing the items he got weren't paid for yet.

Begrudgingly, he went back inside the grocery and got the rest of the items he needed before going back to his house.

Next time, I swear, I'll talk to her, Kenji said to himself as he drove back to his place.

3. During Emi's acid reflux rampage.

Shit, shit, shit, he cursed to himself like a mantra as he zoomed across the streets of Tokyo on his bike, trying to chase after the pink baby kaiju that somehow escaped his basement that he explicitly placed under the care of Mina (in case you couldn’t tell, he's definitely glaring at his AI assistant). Looking at the construction site beside him as he sat in traffic, an idea popped in his head. He could use that to give him a boost to quickly get to the baby. He rode up the makeshift ramp and turned into his giant alter-ego, catching his bike in time.

"Holy shit." He froze. Goddammit, had he really been that careless? Changing in front of a civilian? Nervously chuckling, he turned around to face the owner of the voice, mentally preparing his response [read: excuse] only to be wide-eyed and speechless. The owner of the voice was you. You, as in his childhood best friend, whom he's been trying to catch up with ever since he landed in Japan.

"What the fuck! Ultraman is Ke-" You exclaimed before you got rudely interrupted by the giant superhero. "Hey, shhh! Can we, like, stay quiet on this matter? I know I don't have an NDA right now but my bike will suffice, I guess. I'll get it back from you, I swear, I just really have to take care of this right now. Treat you to our usual spot? Thanks!" He said frantically before running away to take care of his huge baby problem.

Not really the best way to reconnect with your childhood best friend.

+1. After the battle at sea with the KDF.

"Hey, sorry for being late, had to take care of something." He apologized as he jogged up to you on your usual hang-out spot when you were children. You reassured him, saying that you had just arrived, too. "I didn't know what kinda stuff you eat now as an athlete superstar so I just went for the safest convenience store options." You said sheepishly, holding up the plastic bags with a weary smile. "I don't mind, I actually like convenience store snacks." He beamed on how you still remember what he used to like as a kid.

"So, Ken Sato, gonna explain?"

"Oh, you're gonna want to sit down for this."

#kenji sato x reader #ken sato x reader #kenji x reader #kenji sato #ken sato #ultraman #ultraman rising

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corvusphilia · 6 months ago

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★ HOW THEY ACT WHEN THEY HAVE A CRUSH (KARASUNO EDITION)

୨ৎ featuring: daichi sawamura, koshi sugawara, asahi azumane, yuu nishinoya, ryunosuke tanaka, tobio kageyama, shoyo hinata, kei tsukishima, tadashi yamaguchi, keishin ukai

୨ৎ notes: first post!! rq are open guys send shit IN (omg haikyuu blog in 2024!!???). also yes i plan on writing crush headcanons for the other teams as well :>

also worth mentioning this is NOT timeskip and reader is implied to be around the same age as the characters (so highschool for most and adult for ukai)

i was gonna write for the girls as well but ive been writing this for the past 4 days and im tired 😭

★ DAICHI SAWAMURA ?!

He genuinely thinks acting like he's your dad or something is a good way of flirting. Sugawara teases him about it constantly. "Do you want to ask them out on a date or to sign adoption papers?"

And I don't mean it only in the cute way. He will scold you if you forget your jacket or something. But the words quickly catch in his throat when he gives you his and you put it on for the first time. Maybe you should keep forgetting yours, actually. For no reason. No reason at all.

Will bring extra food in case you're still hungry by the end of recess. Even makes mental notes about your favorites. This guy is a GENTLEMAN.

While he does reprimand you, it's nothing like he does to his team or his friends. In fact, he seems to calm down whenever you come into the picture. Nishinoya and Tanaka absolutely take advantage of it.

Suga might be the vice-captain, but the team treats you like the second in command. Doesn't matter if you're not part of the team or even a manager. You're now the second parent by correlation.

Speaking of which, Sugawara and Asahi absolutely play wingmen. Suga will come off a bit too strongly, talking about how Daichi is such a catch and you two would make such a cute couple, while Asahi sounds like he's doing a job interview in Daichi's name, listing all his positive qualities and whatnot. Their hearts are in the right place, at least.

He doesn't hesitate much before asking you out. He doesn't want to risk ruining your friendship, but he doesn't want to live with the regret of what could have been if he gave it a shot, either.

The sun was lazily setting in the horizon, painting the sky pleasant hues of orange and pink. It wasn't unusual for Daichi to walk you home — he insisted on it whenever he had the time, even he meant he would only get to his house past nightfall —, but he was weidly quiet. He smiled calmly when you questioned him on it, giving you a look and a sigh.

He came to a stop, standing in front of you. He took a deep breath before reaching into his bag, grabbing what looked like a note and holding it in both hands before stretching it towards you and bowing politely. His grasp was slightly shaky.

"I've been meaning to ask you this for a while..." He started, his voice soft, keeping his gaze on the ground. Maybe he was just being overly polite, or maybe he was a bit too scared to look you in the eyes. "You make me... incredibly happy, Y/N. I would like to do the same for you. If you'll let me, that is." He finally glanced up, looking at you through his eyelashes and his posture still low, his eyes filled equally with nervousness and hope. "I don't want to leave any doubts, so... I'll just go ahead and say it. Will you be mine?"

★ KOSHI SUGAWARA ?!

This guy is so whipped, it's not even funny. He doesn't even officially ask you out because he makes it so obvious he likes you. Like, c'mon, EVERYONE can tell he wants to marry you already.

The type to run up to you just to give you something he grabbed or bought because it made him think of you. Which happens very often, because he thinks of you all the time.

Very affectionate. Holds your hand whenever you two walk somewhere and hugs you as a greeting and as goodbye. Might even slip in a kiss on your cheek if he's feeling a little silly.

And god forbid some poor bastard mentions your name in a five mile radius of him. This motherfucker will take any chance he can get to yap about how amazing you are and how much he adores you and—

SO supportive. Genuinely, he thinks you're so talented in everything you do. If you have a specific thing you're passionate about, be ready for him to be bragging to everybody about it. More proud of your accomplishments than his own.

Straight up introduces you to people as his significant other after some time. What? He never asked to be your boyfriend? Well, it's not like you were gonna say no anyway, so...

"Y/N!" The cold winter air causes little wisps of smoke to form from his mouth as he runs over to you through the courtyard, an infectious smile on his face. He stops right in front of you, resting his hands on his knees for just a few seconds to catch his breath before holding out a bouquet in your direction. Roses, baby's breath, and cornflowers.

His smile grows even more when you grab it, a snicker escaping him at the slightly flushed look on your face. "So pretty, right? I saw it and thought of you, so obviously I had to get it." He explains, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Don't look at the price tag, I forgot to take it off." He adds.

He waves a hand dismissively at your 'thank you'. "Don't mention it. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn't get you something nice every now and then?" He mentions casually, and lets out a thoughtful hum when you mention that you two are, in fact, not officially dating.

"I guess I did never outright say it, huh? That's my mistake." For some reason, he doesn't sound bothered or reluctant at all. Instead, he grabs your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Well, no reason to waste even more time. Come on, let me take you on our first official date."

★ ASAHI AZUMANE ?!

He doesn't flirt, let's get that out of the way. His idea of hitting on you is looking at you from a distance while praying you have more balls than him and will take initiative.

If you don't really know each other much, he's scared you'll be put off by his appearance and size. If you do, he's scared you think he's too much of a coward and have no interest.

His insecurities play a huge role in his reluctance. He thinks you're so pretty, and smart, and talented, and he's... well, himself. It's almost difficult to tell if he likes you or not, because while he is polite whenever you interact, he acts that way with everyone (who takes the time to actually speak with him, that is), and he actually seems to avoid you whenever possible, too.

Gets desperate enough he asks everyone in the team for advice. Daichi just says to "Be yourself", to which Suga gives him a side eye with a "Yeah, I don't think that'll work" comment, and the two start arguing rather than actually helping the poor guy out.

Nishinoya and Tanaka are... less than helpful, as you might imagine. Kageyama and Hinata don't know the first thing about dating, and he wasn't about to ask Tsukishima, either. Surprisingly (or not), the good advice came from Yagamuchi and Kiyoko.

It basically summed up to the fact that he needs to make his move before someone else does. Nothing too dramatic, but enough to let you know he's serious about it. At the end of the day, they had a 5 steps plan written out.

He had everything set to go, even went as far as to memorize a script he practiced in front of the mirror a few times this morning. However, when he finally stood in front of you, the sun of the afternoon hitting your features just right, his mind went blank.

"Huh..." He was slightly hunched over, absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. He quickly cleared his throat, seemingly remembering he couldn't just stand there looking at you like a creep, and reached inside his bag to pull out a small, heart-shaped chocolate box. He took a deep, shaky breath.

"I-I, huh... I need to tell you something..." He starts nervously, his brown eyes finally meeting yours, filled with fear and sincerity. "I... I've liked you for a while now, and..." That is not the script he planned out. "You're always on my mind. W-when I'm with you, everything just feels right. I don't really know how to say this, I'm probably making a fool out of myself, but... I like you. A lot."

★ YUU NISHINOYA ?!

This fucking guy has no shame whatsoever. Quite literally asked you to go out with him before he even told you his name. I firmly believe he's a love-at-first-sight kind of dude.

Now, how things progress depends highly on your reaction. If you're a bit shy, he thinks it's the cutest thing ever, but he will take it down a notch to not make you uncomfortable. Will still flirt, don't get me wrong, but a bit more lowkey. If you just accept or — god forbid — flirt back, he shortcuts. A hot person?? Likes HIM??? WHAT.

Like, all of his previous bravado is out the window if you accept. He flirts with a few people, sure, but he never actually expects to go anywhere. It's just kind of a fact that he's going to get turned down. So when things actually go right he doesn't know what to do anymore.

It doesn't last too long, though. After he takes a few minutes for his mind to process what just happened, he's bouncing off the walls.

SO protective. We've seen it with Kiyoko. Anytime a guy looks at you for just a little too long he's growling and foaming at the mouth. Better keep him from biting anyone's ankles.

"Wow, you're SUPER pretty!" The boy stated enthusiastically, stars in his eyes as he stares at you intently, seemingly trying to commit every detail to memory. You've seen him around, usually near the gym, but it looks like this is the first time he has seen you.

He takes a step closer, determination written all over his face. "Will you go out with me?" He asks a bit loudly and suddenly. When your face flushes, he takes a small step back, chuckling. "Ah— I'm Yuu Nishinoya, by the way! Probably should've said that first."

He nods happily when you introduce yourself as well, his eagerness returning to the surface. "Well, you didn't really answer me, so I'll ask again — wanna go out with me?" He repeats, half cocky half sheepish. However, his entire face falls when you give a positive response.

His eyes are wide and he just stares at you, mouth slightly agape. When you question if he's feeling well, his ears flush red as he seems to have find his voice again. "A-ARE YOU SERIOUS!? You said yes!? Wha— am I dreaming? I'm dreaming, aren't I!?" Despite the disbelief in his voice, he's smiling — a huge, excited, thankful smile. He's not leaving your side anytime soon.

★ RYUNOSUKE TANAKA ?!

Since I already covered love at first sight with Noya and we've already seen how he's like with Kiyoko, I'm going down a different route: friends to lovers. Also because this specific trope with him makes me SICK /pos.

He's a friendly guy when you get to know him and past his badboy persona, so he has many friends I feel like. He initially treats you like he does the others, being his usual weird ass self we all know and love.

But one time he sees you laugh at one of his shenanigans and he just pauses. Oh. Oh. This is not good.

Have you always been so pretty? I mean, he already knew you were, but this is another level. Now you're like, angelic. Ethereal, even. What just happened.

Immediately runs to Noya because he doesn't know what to do or even think. He just sees you as a friend, right? A close friend. A hot, funny, amazing, kissable friend. Yeah, that doesn't sound right even to him when he says it outloud.

Doesn't take long for him to come to terms with it honestly and the entire team has to hold him back from proposing to you the next time he sees you.

He waits by the classroom's door, an uncharacteristically nervous look in his eyes. He sucks in a sharp breath when the bell rings and you stand from your desk, slinging your bag over your shoulder while making your way to the exit. "Y/N." He calls out to gain your attention, and his face immediately flushes when you look at him.

Your eyes are so beautiful it's unfair. He lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding in. "Will you ma—" He pauses, looking at something right behind you. You look back to see Nishinoya half-hiding behind a wall, shaking his head 'No' quickly. Tanaka clears his throat and you look back at him. "... I-I mean, will you... Go out with me? Maybe? Please?"

He sounds almost pleading and a little unsure. He stutters an explanation when he notices your taken aback expression. "I know this came outta nowhere and I know we're like, best buds or whatever, but... God, I really wanna kiss you." His face goes bright red when he realizes what he just said and he starts rambling another flustered excuse. How cute.

★ TOBIO KAGEYAMA ?!

A little like Asahi, he just kind of stares at you from a distance and hope you get the hint. Totally unware of the fact he has a major resting bitch face and is looking at you so aggressively it looks like he's thinking about beating your ass after school or something.

Completely oblivious to the fact he likes you. He's never liked anyone before. His entire life has always been volleyball this and volleyball that — he doesn't know the first thing about crushes.

Surprisingly thoughtful, though. The type to get you your favorite drink from the vending machine when he goes to grab his milk box. He doesn't even think much about it, it's just so natural to him.

Also very perceptive. He comes off as an airhead most of the time, but when it comes to volleyball, he's incredibly observant. Now he's the same way with you as well. Always knows what you're feeling before you have to say anything or if you need something.

And that's how everyone else realizes he likes you and tell him about it (because again, he genuinely could not tell that his feelings are romantic on his own. How can someone be so smart and so dumb at the same time).

He's in denial for a good while, but the more he thinks about it, the more sense it makes. Some teammates try to give him advice (because they don't trust him at all to do this by himself), but in the end he ignores all of it and just says what feels right at the time.

"I swear, you'd be helpless without me." He grumbles, dragging you away from the confrontation, his hand firmly but not tightly wrapped around your wrist. Karasuno had a game against another school, and one of the guys from said school apparently thought you were really cute. So much so he was trying everything to get your contact information before Tobio stepped in.

Just thinking about the situation pisses him off. He scoffs, squeezing your wrist slightly, but there's something more than just frustration on his face. Doubt, perhaps? He looks back at you, eyebrows furrowed. "You weren't really thinking about giving him your number, were you?" He asks, his voice almost too soft before it rises in tone again.

"I mean, he's average looking at best, and a shit player, and... And I'm better!" He blurted, cheeks flushing slightly. He averts his gaze, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. "So... Just give me your number, dumbass."

★ SHOYO HINATA ?!

I need to mention, he looks like he's so easy to fall in love with. Like he's so kind and considerate and with a high emotional intelligence. Very much boyfriend material I wish more people would see him like that instead of an uwu baby yk.

Anyway, back on track. I feel like he'd fluctuate between shy and bold a lot. Like, if you flirt or give hints that you might like him back, he's blushing and kicking his feet and shit, but it is very much not uncommon for him to take initiative.

Especially after matches. The adrenaline is still pumping in his veins and he barely even registers that maybe he's being a bit forward.

If you don't know him really well it's a bit difficult to tell that he has feelings because he's just. so nice. to everyone. But if you do, it's hard to miss the tenderness in his eyes everytime he looks at you.

Insists you come to his games. It's simple math in his head: the two things he loves the most (aside from, yknow, his mom and sister and all that) are volleyball and you, so if he can just mix them together, he'll be the happiest guy in the planet.

It was a tough game — Karasuno barely managed to win right during the last set. The winning point was, of course, scored by Shoyo. The crowd was cheering, his teammates screaming loudly and gathering around him, but in the middle of the ruckus, his eyes are fixated on a single someone.

He dodged Nishinoya and Tanaka and, to the team's confusion, ran towards the stands. It wasn't until everyone say you simultaneously running in his direction that they understood what was going on. Shoyo practically pounced on you, wrapping his arms around your torso tightly and doing his best to lift you and give you a little spin, almost knocking both of you to the ground in his attempt.

His smile was bright enough to outshine the sun. He pulled away just a little so he could look you in the eyes, the two of you still intertwined. "Thank you so much for being here!" He exclaimed, like his success was solely due to you — to your presence. The look in his eyes was a little different as he leaned in slightly before hesitating. Daichi called him over so they could formally bid farewell to the other team, and he gave you a final squeeze before reluctantly pulling away. "Wait for me, okay? I'll walk you home today!"

★ KEI TSUKISHIMA ?!

This fucking guy is so in denial. No, I'm serious, he'd rather eat glass than admit that he likes somebody. He's always seen relationships and especially crushes as a waste of time and energy, things he couldn't be bothered to spare.

So he's extra mean when he realizes he likes you. Is it an attempt to push you away? Kind of. Is it because he genuinely kind of hates you for the way you make him feel? A little. Is it because he's secretly an awkward motherfucker that doesn't know a thing about how to be romantic? Mostly.

News flash: it doesn't work, independently of your reaction. If you just ignore him and don't give him a reaction, he's frustrated but grows to respect you even more for dealing with his sassy ass with that much grace. If you get sad, he feels genuinely bad for the first time in his life. If you get angry, turns out you look really damn cute when pissed off and that's not helping his case either. If you sass him back, he might just get on one knee.

So he just... gives up. He still teases and pokes fun at you, obviously, but now it doesn't sound as mean. If anything, it's friendly banter. He can't deny that he enjoys having you around.

It raised some eyebrows when Tsukishima told everyone he was leaving practice early because he was helping you study. Hinata and Kageyama had to practically get on their knees and beg him to tutor them, and even then, he always looked so annoyed doing it. With you, he almost had a little smile on his face. Almost.

He snapped his fingers in front of your face a few times. "Hey, idiot, pay attention." He scolded, pointing back to the open book in front of you. "I'm not explaining it a second time." He added, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, his long legs stretched out in front of him.

He can't help the small grin that forms on his face when you whine about his 'mean' treatment. "You haven't seen me being mean yet, pipsqueak." He teased, looking down at you through his glasses. He exhales through his nose in an almost-laugh, his voice dropping just barely over a whisper, a tenderness in his tone you're not really familiar with. "You're lucky I kinda like you."

★ TADASHI YAMAGUCHI ?!

Dude is SO flustered around you, like, constantly. Like can-barely-get-a-sentence-out typa shit. Kei has to verbally smack him and tell him to fucking get it together — he's not gonna win you over by being a wuss (or maybe he will, who knows what you're into).

But that's mostly during the honeymoon stage. After the butterflies in his stomach start to go away, they're replaced by a deep sense of comfort whenever he's around you.

Takeda said that Tadashi would have the least trouble out of everyone when it came to dating and he was RIGHT. This guy is such a sweetie. Always saving you a seat and sharing his lunch with you and just watching out for you in general. He's so considerate :(

You make him not so insecure anymore and that's all he could have asked for. Whenever he messes up or just acts like a dork, he feels his heart drop thinking that he messes up any chance he might have had with you, but when you just smile and reassure him he falls in love all over again.

Tadashi has been profusely apologizing to you for the past fifteen minutes now, no matter how many times you tried to insist that it's fine. He was practicing his serves and you were unfortunate enough to get a ball right to the back of the head, and he rushed you to the nurse's office immediately despite you saying it didn't hurt that much.

"I'm so sorry, I promise it was an accident!" He said for what must have been the third time. There wasn't much that the nurse could do aside from giving you headache medicine and telling you to lie down for a while, and he decided to miss practice so he could stay with you while you rested.

"Does it hurt?" He questioned, his eyes soft and full of worry, and his shoulders tensed a little at your answer of 'kinda'. He grabbed your hand, idly playing with your fingers, either to calm you or himself down. "... I want to make it up to you somehow." He stated gently, not daring to look at you. "... I'll walk you home and buy you a snack from the convenience store, okay? You can ask for whatever you want, no matter the price." He paused, then added with a sheepish smile, "Well... Maybe the price matters a little bit."

★ KEISHIN UKAI ?!

Listen. He definitely looks like he has rizz. Does he actually? No. Absolutely not. Like, he has so much negative rizz it does a full spin and actually works out. Absolute man failure.

Deadass the kind to do that yawn and arm around your shoulder thing and think he's nailing it. Like, dude you're not THAT old, c'mon now.

Fluctuates between being a gentleman and just being a scrub a lot. Will open the car door and pull a chair for you only to light up a cigarette and not notice the smoke is going straight in your direction until you start coughing.

He does try, though. Definitely makes an effort to take you on a nice date whenever his money allows it (and sometimes when it doesn't). He's had flings before, sure, but you're special and he doesn't want to mess it up like he always does.

You barely heard the doorbell ringing with the sound of the rain hitting your roof. When you opened it, Keishin stood there, absolutely drenched in a dress shirt and an undone tie around his neck, water dripping down from his hair to his face as he holds out a bouquet in your direction. He sighs deeply.

"I wanted to surprise you, but my car broke down halfway here and then this fuckin' rain hit." He explained, rubbing the back of his neck. You told him to come inside and grabbed him a towel, and he started to dry his hair before sitting on the couch when he was sure he wasn't dripping water all over the place anymore.

He glanced at you, a somewhat guilty look on his face. "... Sorry I messed it up. I wanted to do something nice for once, but..." He trailed off. You sat next to him, a hand on his shoulder as you reassured him it was okay. When you suggested watching a movie since he was already here anyway, he perked up, almost like an invisible tail started wagging behind him. "Really?" He questioned, a bit baffled before trying to hold back a smile as he relaxed next to you, reaching an arm around your shoulders. "... That doesn't sound half bad, doll face."

thanks for reading!

#୨ৎ — writings .#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #daichi sawamura x reader #koushi sugawara x reader #asahi azumane x reader #yuu nishinoya x reader #tanaka ryuunosuke x reader #tobio kageyama x reader #hinata shouyou x reader #kei tsukishima x reader #yamaguchi tadashi x reader #keishin ukai x reader #headcanons

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dreamsteddie · 13 days ago

Text

Stretch Zone Part 2

Hi everybody! I'm back with the next part of my Yoga Steve Steddie AU. I've decided to call it Stretch Zone as a bit of a teacher joke 😅

Still not sure where this is going or if it will go further, but I will be officially starting a tag list after this installment so if you want to be added let me know if the comments or tags.

Part 1

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Despite his best efforts, Robin does not come with him next week to Chrissy’s yoga class. He tried to tell her, many times, that Chrissy was totally into her but she was impervious to his completely air-tight proof.

“She asked if I was your boyfriend and totally lit up when I said I wasn’t. She totally wants to get with you, Robbie”

“First of all, gross. Second of all, that is not proof of anything.”

So he came alone this week. Mostly, it’s the same thing as the first class but instead of introductions, they just get right into the exercises. Chrissy is a good teacher. Kind, patient, and always giving alternative ways to do the poses for people who want more or less difficulty. Of all the girls Robin has liked, she’s definitely Steve’s favorite and he’s determined to play wingman.

Chrissy always leaves enough time after class for everyone to mill around and clear up their stuff, which leaves Steve plenty of time to meddle.

“Hey Chrissy!” he calls out, jogging a little to reach her before any of the vultures do. Chrissy is a cute girl and he thinks more than one of the guys here are more interested in her than mindfulness. Probably some of the girls, too. “I wanted to thank you for the links you sent me. This mat is much better than the one they loaned me at the desk.” He says a little louder than is probably necessary, but he wants the vultures to hear and think that he’s already got an in with the pretty blond.

“Oh, no problem Steve, I was happy to help,” she says. She really is tiny, he finds himself thinking. Steve himself isn’t the tallest guy around but she has to tilt her head all the way up to look him in the eye. She’s going to look so cute next to Robin, speaking of which. “I didn’t see Robin this week. Was she not able to make it?” Steve once again curses Robin’s stubborn streak. Chrissy was very clearly hoping to see the other girl today.

“Nah, she decided it wasn’t for her. I don’t know if you saw, but she’s kind of clumsy,” Steve admits. “She told me to say hi though. She’s always talking about how great your ideas are for your writing class. I think she said something about peer editing? I don’t know,” he says with faux nonchalance. Robin most certainly did not ask him to pass on a hello and she would be mortified to know that the previously anonymous peer edits she submitted for Chrissy’s last paper are not so anonymous anymore. Steve would feel bad, Robin was definitely effusive with her praise, but if he’s right about this whole situation then Robin will thank him later.

“Oh! Robin was my editor last week? I didn’t know that! That review was so thoughtful and kind I was wondering who it was. I’ll have to thank her in class tomorrow,” she says with a bright, excited smile.

Robin is going to owe him big time.

Mission accomplished, Steve becomes aware that he’s taken up a good chunk of Chrissy’s time and there is a small pod of people awkwardly loitering around, probably waiting to ask questions that are actually yoga-related. One guy in particular is boring holes into Steve’s head like it’s his damn job, which is…well, it’s a little uncomfortable but Steve can appreciate he’s being kind of annoying taking up all the instructor's attention.

He says his goodbyes to Chrissy and turns to leave, catching that guy’s eyes again and sending him a little wave and sheepish smile. He might as well try and be friendly; they’re going to be in this class together for the next two months, after all. To Steve’s mild relief, it seems to snap the guy out of his single-minded glaring. He watches as the guy blinks hard and turns a charming shade of pink, clearly embarrassed to be acknowledged, and give a little wave back.

The guy is kind of cute, in a wet cat kind of way. He’s wearing black sweatpants and a shirt for some band Steve doesn’t recognize with the sleeves cut off and despite the fact that he’s got long, curly hair he clearly didn’t bring any kind of hair tie because the whole thing has become one tangled, sweaty mess. He’s not the kind of guy Steve would expect to be taking yoga classes, but he supposes anyone can get into this kind of stuff.

With one last look at the strange man, Steve continues toward the door, mind once again turned toward making sure Robin is prepared to talk to Chrissy on Monday.

—---

Eddie can not believe this is his life.

Of all the things he thought he would do one day - write an award-winning song, buy his uncle Wayne a better trailer in a better town, find a man to take his virginity - yoga was never on the list.

Eddie Munson is not, and has never been, the kind of guy to do exercise that didn’t involve running away from jocks and preps he’d annoyed to the point of violence. In fact, he’s been adamant that he would only ever do recreational exercise of the non-sexual variety when the sun fell out of the sky and Andy Johnson from high school professed his undying love to him.

Neither thing has happened as of yet but unfortunately, his best friend is the surprisingly cunning Chrissy Cunningham, who is determined to make Eddie into a healthier person. Chrissy, a bonafide jock but also the kindest person on planet Earth, has tried every trick in the book to get her best friend to commit to a better lifestyle, but Eddie has always been stubborn to a fault. Even he can admit that his dedication to cigarettes, microwave meals, and general sloth is not the best way to ensure he lives a long, healthy life, but old habits die hard and he’s still too young to be thinking about his inevitable death.

No amount of pleading, cajoling, or petty theft from his apartment has gotten Eddie to commit to anything for more than a week, but Chrissy isn’t his best friend for nothing. She knows him better than anyone and that means she knows that Eddie is proud to a fault and when presented with a challenge he can’t - won’t - turn it down. She traps him into a bet he can’t win and in all her cruelty, she demands that he sign up for her three-month yoga course at the rec.

Three months.

Eddie won’t make it.

Eddie definitely won’t make it if the absolute snack of a man diagonal from him doesn’t start wearing something other than the tightest pair of yoga pants known to man. Seriously, Eddie thought this would be bad enough when all he had to worry about was his stiff joints and complete lack of lung capacity and then this man had the gal to walk in and set up not 10 feet away.

From the front, it had been bad enough. Droopy puppy eyes, sweet moles, a strong nose, and a fit body. And, well, Eddie is not a creep. He isn’t. But there is also an adonis of a man standing right in front of him wearing yoga pants and it’s kind of hard not to look at what's right in front of him. Much to his dismay, or relief he can’t tell, the adonis seems to know what he’s doing and has worn the correct undergarments to keep everything from flopping around.

And then he turned around and…

Dear god.

Those pants can not be fucking legal.

Eddie spent the entire class trying not to stare like the creep he swears he isn’t and failing. His only saving grace is that he doesn’t fall on his face, but it’s a near thing, especially when Chrissy guides them into these weird lunges that make the back of Eddie’s thighs burn and the man of his dream’s ass look completely biteable. He swears Chrissy is torturing him on purpose. She’s probably trying to get him back for being such a brat about taking care of himself.

When the class finally lets out 45 agonizing minutes after it started, Eddie feels like a wrung dish towel. He’s sweaty and gross and he’s going to be aching in places he didn’t even know existed until next week when he has to do it all again. Seriously, fuck bets.

When he finally summons the will to sit up, he is once again treated to the sight of the most fabulous ass this side of the Mississippi. The equally gorgeous man attached to it is chatting to Chrissy, something about yoga mats that Eddie doesn’t care to understand and general pleasantries that he tunes out until his brain hooks on something interesting.

Robin.

As in Robin Buckley the girl from Chrissy’s writing class that his best friend has been crushing hard on for weeks.

Very interesting indeed.

But he can think about that later. At the moment, he is more concerned with getting off the floor and shuffling a little closer to the front of the room for a better look at his future husband’s face. There’s something pleasant about the shape of his mouth, a thought Eddie has never had about a person before but is nonetheless true. There’s a curve to his smile that is present even as he speaks. Eddie kind of wants to kiss his teeth. He’s so caught up seeing if he can count all the moles on the man’s neck that he doesn’t notice him turn toward Eddie until he’s wiggling his fingers in a little wave.

Eddie is suddenly reminded that staring at another man’s moles in the middle of a yoga studio is not socially acceptable behavior, and this man definitely saw him doing just that. He can feel all the blood in his body rush to his face in record time. This is definitely the most embarrassing moment of his adult life.

Helpless to do anything else lest he look like even more of a freak, he gives a little wave back, feeling supremely stupid as he does. The guy gives him one last look before walking out the door.

As soon as he’s gone Eddie collapses back onto his abandoned mat and covers his eyes with his hands, too mortified to face the world. He doesn’t care if there are still other people lingering around talking to Chrissy and cleaning up their mats, he kicks his feet into the air and groans loud and long. Let Chrissy deal with the weird looks for him, this is her fault anyway.

A couple minutes later the room dims even more as Chrissy looms over him. He refuses to take his hands away from his face, not wanting to deal with her no doubt smug face.

“See something you liked?” She asked, unperturbed by Eddie’s childish behavior.

Eyes still closed, he says, “You’re going to hell. This is best friend abuse.”

Chrissy just laughs.

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Little reminder that I am doing a little fanfiction giveaway to celebrate 500 followers. If you want to enter, go to this post for the details!

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Tag List Added

@aroseandherthorns @child-of-cuthulu @lumoschildextra @warlordess

#Steddie #stranger things #chrissy cunningham #robin buckley #buckingham #fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie munson #dreamer speaks #Eddie is a little bit of a perv #and a virgin #as a treat

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