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brbsoulnomming · 23 days ago

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Heart On Your Sleeve Part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

written for steddiebigbang2024 and belatedly posting here!

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Steve keeps dropping his heart.

Somewhere buried deep inside him there's an edge of terror that he's going to damage it even worse - but it also makes a muffled schloop sound every time it hits the ground that is, objectively, the funniest sound he's heard all night.

Robin thinks so too, because she keeps giggling every time it happens - first these tiny little snorts, then somewhat hysterical giggles, then a full on bark of laughter, and then he's dropping it again because he's laughing, too, and she's so cute, how is he supposed to not be a little in love with her?

Dustin and Erica don't seem to find it that funny, though.

"Oh my God, Steve, put your heart in your chest!" Dustin hisses at him the next time they have to slow down to wait for him to scoop it back up.

The very idea sends a chill through him, and he makes a face at Dustin.

"No!" he retorts.

"No? Are you serious? It took me weeks to get you comfortable taking it out around me and now you want to wave it around? No, that's not what I - stop that," Dustin scolds him.

Which is rude, considering Dustin is the one who told him to wave it around in the first place.

But maybe he also has a point, because Steve's grip on his heart slips on a downward wave and this time he doesn't so much drop it as toss it, sending it skittering over the floor.

"Oops," Steve says.

Robin bursts into a sharp bray of laughter.

He loves her so much.

Dustin's gone chasing after his heart, and he flinches when the kid picks it up, expecting it to hurt, to feel wrong the way it had when -

But no.

It feels nice.

"Huh," Steve says, watching Dustin bring it back over.

"Why is it all wrapped up?" Erica asks, wrinkling her nose at it.

"So it doesn't explode," Steve replies, then giggles when Robin nods solemnly and mimes an explosion with her hands.

Dustin rolls his eyes, trying to shove it at him. "Put it away!"

Steve twists away. "Nooo," he protests. "I can't breathe."

Dustin's expression goes from frustrated to concerned so quickly it gives Steve whiplash. "Your ribs? Did they break something? Shit, Erica, can you-"

Erica's already at Steve's side, tugging up his uniform shirt and squinting at his ribs. "What am I supposed to be looking for?"

"Can't breathe with my heart inside," Steve clarifies, even though he's actually pretty sure he does have a broken rib or two. It doesn't hurt, so it's a way lower priority. "I hate it, it feels like it's trapped and hollow and alone."

Dustin and Erica look at each other. Steve doesn't think they look irritated, but he can't really tell.

"Steve," Dustin says softly. "Since when?"

"Since always," Steve replies.

There's silence in response, and he worries briefly that he's said the wrong thing. But then Dustin sighs and pops open his chest, nudging his own heart aside so he can drop Steve's next to it. He closes it up again before Steve's even managed to get a fully formed thought, let alone words, and -

His heart gives a little stutter, and it's weird to feel the emotion that causes it without feeling the corresponding pounding against his own chest.

Dustin apparently feels it, though, because he squints at Steve. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Steve returns.

“You felt something!” Dustin retorts.

“Wait, you can feel what I'm feeling?” Steve demands.

“Of course I can,” Dustin scoffs, like it should be obvious. “I have your heart, don't I?”

He looks over at Robin, to see if she knew that, too, but she's too busy snickering at something the light is doing in the fountain, and -

Oh.

Wow.

Okay, that's much better.

He feels so much better, and even when he's handed his heart again after he and Robin are deposited in the movie theater -

The feeling lingers.

—

In a too bright bathroom that smells like bleach and vomit, Robin holds out her hands for his heart.

“Let me see,” she insists, and Steve doesn't think twice about handing it over.

She might as well have just put her own heart in his hands, after what she just shared with him.

Still, he feels trepidation when she unwraps it, even more when she blanches at the sight of it. But -

“Hey,” Steve says, leaning in to look more closely at it. “It looks better.”

“Better?” she demands. “This is better?”

“I guess I should put it back in my chest if it makes it better,” he says reluctantly.

Robin frowns. “But it hasn't been in your chest. Just Dustin's.”

Wait.

That's right.

“I learned about this!” Steve snaps his fingers, trying to place it. “Science class. People survive things they shouldn't if they give away their hearts?”

Robin, bless her, either remembers it better or has figured out what he's trying to say. “Your heart heals better if someone's keeping it safe for you?”

There's barely a second before she's opening her own chest, taking out her heart and putting his in instead.

“Here,” she says, handing her heart to him almost carelessly. “Watch this for me.”

The moment it's settled in his chest, though, he can feel - how scared she is, how terrifying this all seems. The edges of it are still dulled by the drugs in both their systems, but it's there.

“I'm sorry,” he tells her quietly, guilt twisting from him to his heart in her chest.

“I'm not,” she replies, sharp and stubborn.

And the thing is -

She isn't.

—

The paramedics don't insist on keeping him.

Steve thinks they might, if they could hear his own heart, but it's Robin's heart beating strong and steady in his chest, so they assume that no matter how bad he looks, he must not be in any danger.

He doesn't know what his heart sounds like, but judging by the look on the guy checking over Robin - it's not good.

But she's physically unharmed, so they must assume it's more emotional damage than anything else. He and Robin are two halves, right now, but put them together and they make a somewhat stable whole.

God, he loves her.

She must pick up the echo of his love, because she looks up, meeting his gaze. Her smile is a little sad, and he feels a rush of affection so strong that it almost takes his breath away, even if it's a little bittersweet.

"It's not like that," he tells her, as soon as she and him can huddle together away from the paramedics.

She frowns at him, a clear prompt to continue.

"I don't know if I know how to love someone this much, if it's not like that," he admits. "But I'm learning. I'm going to learn."

For Robin, he'll learn how to love someone so much he doesn't want to know what life is like without them, in a way that isn't romantic at all.

—

Robin comes home with him that night, their hearts still in each other's chests.

Steve almost can't bear the thought of taking his back at this point, and what he can pick up from Robin tells him she feels the same way.

There's a blinking light on the answering machine, and when he presses play, he smiles a little at hearing Eddie's voice.

“Hey, Steve, it's, uh, Eddie. Know I haven't stopped by in a while, but I saw the news tonight about the mall, and - can you just let me know you're okay? Okay. Yeah, okay, bye.”

He sounds a little like he's trying not to panic, and Steve feels himself go soft and fond.

“...huh,” Robin says, clearly getting an echo of what he's feeling. “Steve?”

Steve shrugs, a little helpless. “I don't know,” he admits.

She considers for a moment. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he asks.

“You don't have to know,” she tells him.

“Okay,” he agrees.

He calls Eddie back while she showers, propped up against the bathroom door with the cordless phone in his hand.

“Hey,” Steve says when Eddie picks up. “It's Steve. Sorry, I know it's late.”

“No!” Eddie rushes to say. “No, it's okay, I was up. I saw - are you okay?”

“I've been better,” Steve admits. “There was some explosions, some rubble from the building collapsing. I've got cracked ribs and a concussion.”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie mutters. “If you could stop getting beat up, it would really give my heart a break.”

Steve grins a little. “You worried about me? Thought it was my job to look out for you.”

He can't see him, but he's pretty sure Eddie's rolling his eyes. “Yeah, and who looks out for you, huh, asshole?”

Steve hums. “It's good to hear your voice. I missed you.”

Eddie's quiet for a moment. Then, “Do you want - do you need someone to come keep an eye on you, make sure you wake up every hour?”

He kind of wishes Eddie'd finished what he started to say, because yeah, he does want him, but that's not the question Eddie ended up asking.

“Robin's here,” Steve says. “She was caught in it, too, but she didn't get too injured. She's going to stay over tonight.”

There's a moment of silence.

“Right, of course,” Eddie mutters.

“Can you come over tomorrow?” Steve finds himself asking without really thinking about it. Eddie's never been over - he's technically never hung out with Eddie outside of school or work - but shit, he wants it. “I think the drugs'll be out of my system by then, so I won't be too annoying. You can meet Robin.”

“You do know I've met her, right?”

Steve makes a tsk noise. “You've met Robin from band, just like she's met Eddie from the lunch tables. But you don't really know each other, not like I-”

He cuts off, because he's not really sure he has the right to say that. Does he really know either of them like that?

Whatever. If he doesn't, he wants to.

“You do better as part of a trio, huh?” Eddie asks quietly.

“Well, yeah,” Steve agrees. “But this is different, this is better.”

Eddie snorts. “Sure, you're not the third wheel anymore.”

“It's not that,” Steve protests. It feels important for him to get this right, though he's not sure why. “I don’t care about being a third wheel, it never bothered me. But Tommy and Carol… there were always conditions, with their friendship. The older we got, the more there were. And I love Nancy and Jonathan-”

His heart spasms. He can't feel it, but he feels the emotions, and Robin's heartbeat in his own chest kicks up. He mutes the phone, for a moment, knocks on the bathroom door. “I’m okay!” he calls through it, feels a wave of relief coming from her, and lets himself feel simple, uncomplicated affection.

“But things are complicated with them,” he continues after he unmutes the phone. “I think they always will be.”

“And what, I'm uncomplicated?” Eddie asks, but he sounds more amused than anything else.

“You're something,” Steve agrees, not bothering to try not to sound warm and fond.

Eddie blows out a puff of air. “I have band practice tomorrow,” he says. “But I'll call you sometime later, okay?”

No, that doesn't sound okay.

“Is this one of those things where you're not really asking me if it's okay, you're just saying it so it sounds better?” Steve asks. “What would you do if I said it wasn't okay? If I said I really wanted you to come over?”

Eddie's quiet again. “Do you want me to come over?”

“Yes,” Steve replies immediately, because he's had it saved up since Eddie didn't finish asking him it in the first place.

If his heart were in his own chest, he's pretty sure it would be thumping in anticipation.

“Not tonight,” Eddie says finally. “But I do want to be friends with you, okay? I'll call you.”

He hangs up after that, and Steve stares at the phone until Robin comes out of the bathroom and finds him like that.

She doesn't have to ask what happened - probably because she felt what happened - she just sits next to him a while.

This is already written, and my plan is to post one part a day until it's all up here!

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Part 7

Taglist (always happy to add more to this if anyone wants): @fairytalesreality @lostonceandneverfound @wheneverfeasible @awkwardgravity1 @theintrovertedintrovert @thewickedkat @ravenfrog @scarlet-malfoy @missmagillicuddy @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @ollyxar @cringe-culture-is-dead-99 @thedragonsaunt @makewavesandwar @cryptid-system @ajeff855 @mae-liz @the-fantastical-asexual @jettestar @warlordess @persnicketysquares @samsoble @my-love-of-books @mydysfunctionallife @dreamercec @holyangelstudentuniverse @breealtair @shunna @xtraordinarally

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie fic #robin buckley #platonic soulmates stobin #dustin henderson #erica sinclair #steve and dustin

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strangerstilinski · 7 months ago

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𝙧𝙤𝙗𝙞𝙣 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙡𝙚𝙮

summary: Steve gives his best friend some admittedly questionable dating advice — but it all works out in the end.

fem!reader ~ just a silly and awkward little meetcute. alcohol consumption. lots of pining. far too many mentions of robin's freckles. and i threw in a silly moment with steve because, well, this is me we're talking about and how could i not? fluff [1.9k]

a/n: baby's first robin fic — wow! as always, please leave some love in the form of comments and feedback if you enjoy xx

Steve has practically sworn on his life that the pick-up line will work on you. On the condition, of course, that Robin delivers it with the right amount of cool nonchalance, with just enough flirty undertone to let you know her intentions.

So, naturally, Robin is repeating the phrase over and over again in her head, because the last thing she wants to do is screw up this monumental opportunity her best friend has practically laid out in front of her. Though, now that she's making her way toward you, she's belatedly realizing that Steve's confidence is almost entirely based on the fact that the line had worked on him when a girl used it at a party. Which was... Decidedly not the most reliable focus group, but she's determined to push past her fear regardless. Plus, Steve has technically shared more words with you than Robin ever has — even if that does equate to a single conversation to Robin's zilch.

Was it against her better judgment to willingly accept dating advice from Steve Harrington? Maybe, but she manages to swallow past her anxiety long enough to push the words out anyway.

"Is this seat taken?"

The words pull you out of where you've been lost in your own head. The music coming from the boombox at the corner of the patio, paired with the raucous laughter from the group splashing around in the pool, had lulled you into a trance-like state.

You were third-wheeling beside Nancy and Jonathan, because you work with them and they're really the only people that you really know at this party. So you might kind of be clinging to them a bit.

You've let your mind wander in an effort to remain unbothered by their flirty laughter, especially with the way that light intoxication and the chaos in the Harrington backyard has slowly brought the volume of their conversation from hushed to outright loud beside you.

Before you knew it, you've spent a good fifteen minutes sipping steadily on your drink and watching the ants march in and out of a gaping crack in the cement in a mindless daze. So, when you hear the question, your head snaps up so hard it nearly gives you whiplash as you focus on the girl standing in front of you.

You've seen her before, but that does nothing to lessen the blow of just how pretty she is. So pretty. Her cheeks are still a little pink from the setting sun, freckles marking her skin everywhere your eyes land as your gaze rakes over her. A wonderfully short pair of denim cutoffs cover the tops of her thighs, and you have a hard time forcing your gaze to continue to travel upward. She's picking at the label on one of the bottles of beer in her hands, both of them dripping with ice water from the cooler she must've snatched them from. Her eyes are wide, a panicked little grimace pulling at her lips before she seems to shake herself off and school her expression into something more relaxed.

"Hey, Robin." Nancy acknowledges sweetly, Jonathan nodding in greeting beside her.

The pretty girl, Robin, smiles in response, albeit tightly, before her attention moves determinedly back to you. She blinks once, twice. Shifts on the balls of her feet and repositions her beers, the glass clinking as they knock together between cold fingers. Her gaze flicks just once to something or someone over your shoulder and she seems to nod to herself once before an adorably nervous little smile pulls at her lips.

You've only ever seen fleeting glimpses of her from afar as she re-shelves movie rentals at Family Video. You'd tried to catch her at the check out counter one time, but Steve Harrington had crushed your hopes the moment he had nudged his co-worker away with a not-so-hushed whisper about letting him test the waters that had your shoulders slumping dejectedly.

When he'd spotted the empty plastic case in your hands, he'd squared his shoulders, a poor attempt at nonchalence, "Gremlins, huh? Uh.. Gun to your head! Who's hotter — Phoebe Cates or Zach Gilligan?"

You'd laughed before correcting him, "Galligan. Gilligan is the guy on the deserted island."

He'd only waved you off, taking the crumpled dollar bills you pulled from your pocket with an oddly pointed comment about how pretty Phoebe Cates was though, right? You blame the way his eyes had flashed with something like excitement when you'd agreed as the reason for your next comment-

"But all time celebrity crush? Gotta be Claudia Wells." You'd paused after the admission before continuing somewhat nervously, "Y'know, from uh, Back To The Future?"

"Oh! The guy's hot mom?"

"Oh, no. His, um, Marty's girlfriend. I just think she's a little softer than Cates. Pretty but still approachable, y'know? Girl Next Door. That kinda thing."

He hadn't looked judgmental, but the moment you'd left the store and the adrenaline brought on by the absurd encounter had receded, you'd been mortified with yourself for being so goddamn transparent. You'd almost gone back a week later, hoping to see the cute mystery girl working the counter again — alone, preferably — but in the end you'd chickened out. Had a friend return your rental for you and you hadn't been back since.. Because she really was nerve-wrackingly pretty, and you were a coward.

But right now she's looking at you expectantly. Waiting.

"Hi?" You manage, words soft and unsure.

The playing field doesn't quite feel even with her standing above you. It's a bit unfair, you think as you blink up at her a little dumbly — It's hard to focus when her attention is on you like this. The sky is a backdrop of pink and orange behind her, stunning little shadows collecting beneath the bridge of her nose and the ridge of her brow. Perfect teeth dig in at the corner of her lower lip with her smile. There's a pale stripe of skin at the base of her middle finger, untouched by the sun and only visible because the chunky ring she's wearing has gone slightly askew against one of the beer bottles in her hand.

"Hi," Robin returns, just the single syllable sounding giddy on her tongue. Blue eyes drop to where you sit on the stone bench beside Nancy, gaze lingering on the bare skin of your thighs beneath your shorts before they travel back up to meet your own again. "Is this seat taken?" She repeats, a little more hopeful this time.

"Oh." It only comes out a little dejected. You look toward Nancy and Jonathan in your peripherals, as if willing another space on the stone bench to suddenly appear — When one doesn't, you sigh. The nearly empty plastic cup in your hands crunches when you clutch it a little tighter to your chest. Your jaw tightens, heel scuffing against cement as you kick your foot out in preparation to rise and relinquish your seat. "No, I mean.. Yeah, you can have it." You nudge Nancy with your arm, chin to your shoulder as you speak a little softer, "I'm gonna go grab a drink and, um.. Mingle."

The look on Nancy's face immediately gives away the fact that she knows there's no way in hell that you plan to do anything of the sort. You are not a person who mingles, Nancy and Jonathan both know this. However, before Nancy can say anything, Robin is speaking again.

"No!" She nearly yells, voice cracking. Her eyes have gone a little wide. She takes a small step closer, one of her knees knocking against your own and effectively impeding your ability to stand.

"..No?" You echo in confusion.

"Um," Robin swallows harshly, curling in on herself just a little. Her face scrunches with embarrassment, her teeth scraping along her lip. She blows out a harsh breath before thrusting one of the beers in her hands toward you, "Here! I, uh, I brought this over for you."

You bend to place your plastic cup beneath the bench in a flash, entirely too eager when you reach out to take the offering. You get a little distracted by the way her fingers glisten with condensation, and your stomach outright flips when they brush your own in the transfer.

"Oh. Thank you," You feel a bit like a schoolgirl with the airy cadence that slips into your voice. Her touch lingers for a moment, blue eyes seemingly glued to the place where your index finger covers her pinky around the neck of the bottle. "You can totally still have my seat," You add quickly, "I don't mind! Like I said-"

"Actually-" Robin interrupts, "Well, actually, I thought- If you want, of course- I thought we could maybe, kind of, in a way, share the seat?" It comes out as a question and only serves to make you more confused. "I thought – again, if you want – I thought I could, possibly, sit.. on your lap. Just, because.. You know, that way you could avoid forfeiting your seat and maybe, you and I, we could get to know each other a little better? But we totally don't have to! That's okay too! Absolutely okay, in fact. You can just enjoy that beer and I'll go-"

She's already shuffling a small step back as her words bleed together in her anxious rambling. Your free hand catches her wrist to pull her back before she can get too far, your legs parting to allow her to slip between them. Her knees brush the insides of your thighs and your heart thumps entirely too obnoxiously beneath your ribs in response.

"I don't mind," You say quickly. Your fingers shake with the adrenaline that washes over you suddenly and you give a gentle tug to urge her to sit. "You can sit. You can absolutely sit."

She sits.

She sits and pockets of her denim shorts press into the top of your thigh, her knees knocking together as she tries to settle into a comfortable position. You surprise even yourself with the hand that lands on the small of her back to keep her balanced, and when she presses into your touch minutely you choose to leave it there. Your palm is without a doubt sweating where it settles against the cotton of her shirt, but you don't dare move it now that it's found a place there.

If you thought it was hard to breathe when she was standing in front of you, it's a whole new ballgame to have her face this close to your own. You're still looking up at her, neck craned back just a little to look at the cluster of freckles above her cupid's bow, the dark eyeliner smudged artfully beneath her lashes.

You watch her gaze drag slow over your own face — like you're something to be admired and, God.

You can practically hear your own blood pumping in your ears, and you will your excited nerves to settle, sipping from the chilled beverage in your hand just for something to distract you, even just for a moment. The glass catches the top of Robin's bare thigh when you lower it again and she gasps at the cold, the gasp turning over into a breathless laugh while you curse and stutter out an apology.

You miss the way her gaze flicks over your shoulder to meet Steve's watchful eye where he sends her a whole flurry of excited hand movements ending with an emphatic thumbs up. But, you do notice the way her toe nudges into your shin lightly, the shy smile pulling at her lips as she leans into you a little more comfortably, arm pressing into your shoulder.

"Hi," She starts slowly, "I'm Robin."

lovely dividers by @strangergraphics

#robin buckley #robin buckley stranger things #robin buckley fluff #robin buckley fic #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x female reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x reader fluff #robin x reader #robin buckley fanfic #*

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dearhargrove · 9 months ago

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Please pls pls write for Eddie Diaz🥺

Sleepover

Eddie Diaz x reader

summary You're on the way to pick up your son, Liam, but it's hard to get him to go home when he's begging to sleepover at his new friends house. Turns out you don't mind as much when you met said kid and his dad.

word count 995

tags fluff, reader simping over Eddie, kind of open ending

a/n I got this idea randomly so I hope you like this <3

part two

masterlist

“Liam!” You call out when you spot your eight year old son busy playing with another kid. Usually whenever he heard you he'd come running; with every year he turns older you expect his clinging to reduce but it never does. Not like you mind, he may be eight now but he's still your baby.

But today he just glances and waves before continuing to giggle and talk with his new friend.

You're surprised as he usually never stuck with one kid, most of the time he'd even stay by himself. It worried you, even when you figured he just preferred to be by himself and did it by choice and not because he was left out.

One of the teachers at the side shrugs with a smile after seeing Liam and his new friend.

You approach them and put a hand on Liams back before bending down and kissing the top of his head. “Hey, buddy. Did you make a new friend?”

He grins and nods eagerly, “Chris! We've been playing all day. He's my best friend!” You chuckle at the eager introduction and wave at Chris, who looked almost shy if not for the cute grin.

“Well in that case, it's nice to meet you, Chris.” He politely holds out his hand, “It's nice to meet you too, ma'am.” He says quietly and slowly. You melt on the spot and gently shake his hand.

Your son stands up quick enough to knock the top of his head into your chin, leaving you to grunt in pain as he excitedly bounces in his spot. “I have to sleepover at Chris' house!”

Your eyebrows raise as the two boys continue making plans about tonight. You don't want to be the killjoy but for one you had never met the other parents nor had they met you. Otherwise you would've easily agreed; you were just happy Liam had finally made a friend.

“Alright, boys, I'm afraid this won't work out… We don't even know if Chris parents are going to agree,” you say and pointedly look at your son who's about to pout (you couldn't resist him and you would not let him make you feel bad about making a reasonable decision).

“My dad will say yes. He always says yes.” Chris says seriously and pushes his glasses up with his index. You smile as both of them look at you with equally big, pleading eyes.

“I will say yes to what?”

You almost give yourself whiplash with how fast you turn around because whose voice is that sexy? You'd never heard anyone talking that attractive.

And surely when you look at him you basically faint. Brown hair that seemed to be a grown out buzz cut, brown eyes and white teeth with a grin that makes your heart actually stop for a second.

“Sleepover!” Liam yells and then turns shy when the man looks at him with a smile that should be illegal to look that good. “A sleepover? That sounds exciting.” He gets even more attractive in your eyes when he leans over and kisses Chris’ head in greeting. So he was great with kids too? Wow.

He then fixes his gaze on you and you do everything in your power not to fluster as he rakes his eyes over you and back up to look right into yours. “Hey, I'm Eddie. Chris is my son.” He extends his hand and you shake it before remembering to introduce yourself as well.

He smiles at you through it and if it wasn't for Liam gently clinging to your hand as he and Chris watch you and Eddie talk you'd have actually lost it.

“So these two want to have a sleepover?” The boys both yell in agreement and you laugh, shushing your son a bit. Eddie looks at you with a questioning look and you shrug your shoulders. He had something trustful about him and with the way he acted with both the kids he already checked a few boxes.

But still, this was your son and you wouldn't leave him overnight with - practically - a stranger.

“My dad is a firefighter, he will protect us.” Chris mentions and you look at Eddie in surprise. He chuckles a bit bashfully but nods, “I'm with the 118.” You hum in recognition, “I work at the dispatch center.” He looks surprised now and you chuckle as he comments, “That's a coincidence.”

After that conversation flows easy and after probably fifteen minutes is Liam who pulls your sleeve with an impatient pout. You coo and pick him up with ease, letting him wrap his arms around your neck as he sleepily rests against you.

“Chris is clingy too, I feel like I shouldn't be indulging him so much, but…” Eddie starts and you see him ruffling Chris’ hair with a fond look as the boy looks at his dad with pure adoration.

“It's hard to resist. Yeah, same here.” You hum and both of you laugh a bit.

The teacher takes note of both the kids being picked up and you start walking to the parking lot after getting the backpacks. Chris is on crutches you note and slow your steps for him to comfortably keep up.

“Sleepover?” Liam asks again after - you were quite sure - a nap. Eddie tilts his head and looks at you, giving you the chance to decide.

Wow. So far he's more than just a green flag.

“How about we do a few meet ups first?” You suggest and both boys groan but ultimately agree.

Eddie nods and after letting Chris into the car he turns back to you and holds out his phone with a small smile, “Just so we can, you know, organize their play dates.”

Your heart actually stops for a second before resuming twice as fast and you take his phone to put your contact in.

“I'll see you around.” You smile and wave, Eddie grinning too as he waves and gets in the car.

#911 fanfic #911 show #911 abc #911 fox #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz #Eddie Diaz fanfic #ryan guzman

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jenniferstit · 4 days ago

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one look, give 'em whiplash ! pac

what is it about YOU that breaks necks?

one:

whoa! ok so there are a lotttt of baddies in this group, imma just call it like i see it. what is it about you that breaks necks? everything b*tch lol. i see people obsessively watching you both in real life & in social media. i got a flash of the whiplash mv where ningning is strutting outside in her baddie outfit and sunglasses… that’s how people view you. with the sunglasses confirming the devil energy here, i’m picking up on stalker energy, very secretive. these people don’t want you to catch them watching, yet they cannot look away. you look completely unapproachable, and it’s not even just how you look: it’s your energy. pile one, your energy is unapproachable. you are highly desired, dreamboy/dreamgirl energy, but these admirers dare not approach, bc they know they do not compare. people KNOW that you will be able to see right through them, so if they are not genuinely confident, there’s no reason to try to fake it with you. you make people feel like fangirls. you literally glow SO bright, pile one. you may have a bright golden (yellow/orange) aura… i see that twice in this spread. people can quite literally see your angelic, golden light and it freaks them out! strong solar plexus energy. admirers are overwhelmed with your radiance… wow. your eyes transport people to another realm, no matter the shape or color. you have an electric stare… picking up on pluto energy/strong pluto. looking into your eyes triggers people to have past life awakenings, no joke. you may have to learn to limit your eye contact with people (i do this personally), for fear that people will latch onto your energy obsessively. aura points over 9000 lol, but seriously… your aura is incredibly calming & reassuring, so be careful. people see you as genuinely too good to be true. a true fantasy. there’s also something about a friend group being highlighted. if you have a solid friend group, you and your friends are all unapproachable, and the energy exchange between you all (esp publicly) is incredible. are you secretly in a coven? lol.

extras: 11, 1111, 111111, strong cancer, sagittarius placements. 11H in cancer/sag. strong pluto. electric stare, solar plexus energy, heart chakra activation, strong 11th house, golden aura, psychic seeing, strong sight, & past life activation.

two:

right off the bat, the energy here feels very sultry. i’m picking up on more of a romantic, sad girl, lana del rey kinda vibe. if that’s not who you are internally, than that is how other people see you. you give off a heartbroken vibe. others may ask if you’re tired or exhausted when you’re totally fine lol. OR it’s that you genuinely are exhausted when it comes to matters of the heart… you may feel emotionally drained and others can pick up on that. despite that, you do have this regal authority. you’ve been through a lot therefore you crave peace. people see you as highly selective with whom you entertain. people see you as someone who does not play. you seem like you mean business and are quickly onto the next thing. you may even come across like you have somewhere important to be. there’s something about movement here… the way you move. are you a dancer? do you travel? your energy feels very mature. you are an old soul with many previous incarnations. people may meet you and recognize your energy signature from an ancient incarnation. do people tell you that you look familiar? or that you remind them of someone they know? you shine, pile two. people idealize about what it would be like to be in a relationship with you. i’m also getting something about people enjoying watching you sleep? LOL. maybe while traveling? (i’ve actually caught a flight attendant watching me sleep). admirers want to know what it’s like to sleep next to you… again, this vibe is very romantic. you have an air of grace around you. people can tell you carry a spiritual momentum. you may even have protective guides / angels / passed on loved ones who are always attached to your energy field. people can sense that. your energy pulls people in. people can tell your purpose in this lifetime is grand, and they want to be a part of it. people admire the stability you carry & may even want to possess it for themselves… there’s something about ownership coming through. you are a treasure. people think you would be the trophy in the relationship. physically, i’m seeing very radiant tan to deep brown skin that is very noticeable to others. jewelry & piercings are also coming through. if you wear headscarves or head accessories, people love that about you. teacher energy, people want to learn from you.

extras: 7H in aries/leo/sag. strong north node, strong 2H. 2H in taurus/virgo/capricorn. grace/being graceful, gold jewelry, blue hair, access to akashic records, esoteric knowledge, invitations, spirit orbs/light orbs, & grand trine.

three:

what about you breaks necks pile three? your potential. people see you as someone who could do anything they want to do. people might even see you as someone who is overwhelmed by your own potential, so you stay trapped in your routines. you have a LOT of resources to share with others: love, energy, abundance, wisdom, etc. the energy here is very similar to pile two in that sense… there is a teacher-like wisdom present. however, people may understand that your belief system about relationships is different than others. you give yourself everything that you need and do not rely on relationships with others the way most people do. relationships for you are like dessert: fun but not always necessary. you have the ability to provoke, heal, and transform others, but you choose not to do so. you only engage with others this way when you hear the call. i’m picking up on a lot of projectors here (human design). projectors rely on invitations in order to engage with others, otherwise their energy will be met with anger, disgust, jealousy, & a general lack of understanding. your past experiences with others have now caused you to be extremely selective, as you should be. there is an energy of self-mastery here. you see more than others will ever understand. you have successfully developed and balanced both divine masculine and feminine energies within yourself. you give off an energy of completion. i’m feeling like you’ve closed dozens of karmic cycles. you are far beyond your age group. you are beyond even people twice your age spiritually/karmically. true independence. you may feel like people don’t like this about you, but there is an audience for you somewhere out there. you engage the world around you with an authenticity that you rarely ever see in others. unicorn energy. some of you may identify with having been on a twin flame journey. i have my own thoughts of TFs but in general, the only goal of a TF journey is to balance the masculine & feminine energies within a single soul… that is it. this group is filled with souls who have experienced MANY trials in this lifetime in order to align the energies necessary to fulfill your individual life paths. this is a very very unique pile. sages, healers, spiritualists. you are meant to operate less on an individual level, and more on a wide-scale, even global level. share your wisdom!

extras: feline energy, DNA activation, past life activation, strong mars, mercury, venus & pisces. telepathic message, clairvoyance, ascension, celebrity, 333, 3333, & 345.

☆ more readings on tiktok ★

#uploads #pac readings #jenniferstit #aespa #aespa whiplash #psychic readings #pick a pile #pick an image #witchblr #free tarot #tarot reading #tarot pac #pac tarot #tarotblr #free divination #tarot community

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astonmartinii · 1 year ago

Note

Hey, 👋🤗🤗

If you are still taking requests,

Can I ask for Toto wolff with Lewis Hamilton's older sister who is also a physiotherapist for Mercedes.

Big love 💝💝

falling for you | toto wolff social media au

pairing: toto wolff x hamilton!physiotherapist!reader

the mercedes team principle takes a bit of a tumble, and god forbid he takes advantage of the extra attention from his wife

masterlist

mercedesamgf1

liked by lewishamilton, mickschumacher and 1,093,778 others

tagged: yourusername

mercedesamgf1: we can confirm the big boss took a bit of a tumble earlier this afternoon, and we can confirm the only big injury was to his dignity. luckily for toto, mercedes physiotherapist y/n hamilton was on hand to look after him

view all comments

user1: bro i know that man is HEATED that sky had caught him falling

user2: i too would fall over and throw my back out for y/n hamilton to help me

lewishamilton: he's in good hands i can assure you

yourusername: you know it ;)

lewishamilton: okay don't make it weird

user3: i love how she said no to the merc uniform

yourusername: it's ugly :(

mercedesamgf1: y/n that's not nice

yourusername: my bad ... please still pay me

pierregasly: ouch i think i hurt my leg

lewishamilton: don't even go there

pierregasly: damn

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, lewishamilton and 301,871 others

yourusername: days off looking after this old man

view all comments

user4: okay but like they would be a hot couple

user5: i am seeing your vision

lewishamilton: how many tries did that picture take?

yourusername: only 12, toto isn't a complete caveman you know

user6: so they're actually on their own? i thought lewis would be with them

lewishamilton: god no, i wouldn't spend any extra time with those two, i wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy

user7: WHAT DOES THIS MEAN

user8: so... they're together?

georgerussell63: who let him out of the house looking like that?

yourusername: he's still your boss you know?

danielricciardo: russell george i am hurt that's a beautiful jumper

lewishamilton

liked. by yourusername, georgerussell63 and 1,309,876 others

tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton: family time

view all comments

user9: so we're just dropping the family bomb now?

user10: can y/n look after me after she gave me WHIPLASH

yourusername: yellow is so my colour oh wow

lewishamilton: i think it's our colour

landonorris: can it be all of our colour?

yourusername: no ❤️

user11: i am still not over lewis now considering toto family

georgerussell63: i am feeling left out

yourusername: well unless you leave carmen for roscoe tough luck

georgerussell63: can i not just have a good faith invite to family dinners?

yourusername: no carmen, no entry

carmenmundt: ❤️

mercedesamgf1

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton and 881,098 others

tagged: yourusername

mercedesamgf1: mama y papa

view all comments

user14: do they need a third? a dog? a maid? i'll do pretty much anything

user15: i love the fact that from toto faceplanting in the garage we got the reveal of the most iconic f1 couple ever (fight me)

yourusername: zoo wee mama who is that tall glass of water in the second slide 😮‍💨

lewishamilton: i may have wingmanned you but keep that stuff to yourself

yourusername: allow me to thirst over my fiance on main please

lewishamilton: he can't even see it though

yourusername: but yall can so you know to BACK OFF

user16: the way y/n is posted about by merc just as much as lewis at this point

yourusername

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63 and 550,871 others

yourusername: he only needed a kiss to make it better

view all comments

user17: hey siri play that should be me by justin bieber

user18: the way this could be about either of them

lewishamilton: i'm never gonna hear the end of this am i?

yourusername: nope

georgerussell63: and i thought i was obnoxious on instagram

yourusername: careful georgie i have many photos of toto shirtless but their for my eyes only

georgerussell63: i don't want to see them

user19: we DO

user20: please share ma'am

user21: didn't your mum ever teach you that sharing is caring?

note: i know this is a bit short, but i hope you enjoyed nonetheless !!

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 instagram au #f1 x you #f1 #toto wolff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff instagram au #toto wolff oneshot

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spookysteddie · 1 year ago

Text

Always Comin’ Home to You

Gator Tillman x fem!reader

18+ MINOR DNI

dec: after a fight with his step-mother Gator comes home late, scaring you. His bruises tell you of the day he had and all he wants is to feel you.

cw: Swearing, abandonment, mental / physical abuse (Roy to Gator), domestic abuse (Roy to Karen), bruises, mention of death, implication of anxiety, murder, toxic religion themes, gator calls his step-mom a cunt, crying, fingering, daddy kink, dd/lg themes if you squint, Gator calls himself her God (what's the name for that?), unprotected penetrative sex, cream pie, promises. (let me know if I missed anything)

wc: 3.7k

a/n: I need Gator Tillman like I need to fucking breathe. This man is WOW. I just want to pet him and tell him he is, in fact, a winner and then suck him off. Anyway, I hope y'all like this heheh

...

Gator Tillman didn’t have a lot of good things in his life.

Between his mother leaving, his father being as asshole and everything in between, Gator was a little fucked up and very morally gray. Doing his daddy's dirty work in the hopes Roy will finally be proud of him.

Now, there was one good thing (or person) in his life, one human who brought out the best in him. One person who saw him for the person he was deep inside. The one who saw him as a winner.

You.

You were everything Gator could ever dream of, his perfect girl.

“Gator? Baby have you seen my sunglasses?” You pull some clothes out of the hamper, double (triple) checking that they weren’t in there. “Do you have them? Are they in your cruiser?!”

You hear Gators heavy footsteps before he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, “have ya checked on top of ya head?” You can hear the smugness in his voice and instantly you want to punch him.

You were an angel and subsequently the sweetest girl. Shit, you make Gator catch and release the spiders you find in the house because you ‘want someone to grant you the same kindness in life’. Whatever that means. But of course he does it, because the last thing he wants is to make you cry.

Well, that’s not true. He loves making you cry while your wrapped around his cock, fucking you so deep and hard that you can’t form a complete thought. Only then does he enjoy the tears streaming down your face.

But at the same time, you had a wicked attitude. One he liked to fuck outta you at every opportunity. And when you look up at him he knows it’s coming.

“Do they look like they’re on my fuckin’ head, Gator? Jesus Christ.” But he doesn't fail to notice you subtly check in the mirror to make sure they aren’t actually on your head. They aren’t, for the record.

Gator is not like his daddy. Does he have his fathers attitude? Absolutely. But he has never raised his hand to you outside of the bedroom, much to his fathers dislike. Claiming he’s watched his father beat on his step-mother and even though he hates her – only because she gave birth to his twin sisters, giving his father two more chances to fuck their futures up – he doesn’t think it’s right.

He balls his fists, nails digging into the center of his hand. He has too much shit to do today and, frankly, doesn’t have time for this shit. “Watch ya mouth bunny. Lucky my dad aint home to hear you take Christs name in vain.”

Gator is right. His daddy already doesn't like you, doesn’t think you’re Godly enough. He also seems to think you’re an idiot simply because Gator does everything for you, even down to tying your shoes. It’s something Gator likes doing, taking care of you as it helps ease his mind.

But at the same time Roy wonders how his son could catch and keep a girl like you. It’s emotional whiplash most of the time. Of course, Gator takes the brunt of his daddy's issues when it comes to you, never letting his daddy so much as look wrong in your direction.

You sigh, running your hands down your pink skirt, “look, can you please help me find them? You know my eyes don’t do well with the sun bouncing off the snow.”

His eyes soften, loving when you need his help, “I’m willin’ to bet they’re in the cruiser on the floor boards.”

Your face heats as you remember exactly why they’d be on the floor of the cruiser, your escapades from your little meeting at the police station last night. There was always that preliminary fuck before going back to Roys (cause God forbid Gator ever come stay at your place. His daddy needs him nice and close.) considering you don’t know how to keep your moans quiet. So, he tires you out, not so much that you can’t drive back to his place, but just enough to where you’re silent during round two and three and four.

The cold nips at your bare legs, winter just as brutal as every other year in this godforsaken state. You swear it never gets easier, winter, and the older you get the more you think about moving south. You think Gator would like the warmer weather, probably find the warmth soothing.

“Ah ha! Got ‘em!” Gator hands them to you with a huge smile on his face. He looks almost boy-like. It’s rare he has a genuine smile, especially when his daddy is around.

“Gator,” his step-mothers voice rings out from the porch, making you both jump. He doesn’t turn around, doesn’t give her the satisfaction of seeing his frustration. “Stop yellin’ cause your sisters are sleepin’!”

“Karen, they’re at the other end of this fuckin house and your scratchy ass voice is louder than me.”

You can see her huff, “I should call your father!”

He sighs, turning on his heel, “I don’t think that’ll be a good idea. Dad’s… a little busy today.” Gator knows exactly what his daddy is busy with, not that he’d ever tell you. Terrified that he would somehow put you in danger.

You know that there was shit his daddy made him do. Things that forced him to come home with black eyes, bloody lips and bruises on his knuckles and body. It hurt your heart every time he came home like that, telling you it was nothing while he winces as he takes off his clothes.

Karen seethes from the porch and you see her look from Gator to you and back. Gator, who notices everything, sees it and steps in front of you, pushing you behind him. “Don’t look at her like that, Karen.”

That seems to annoy her more, “she better not be here tonight. You hear me? Don’t need your sisters hearin the stuff you two get up to at night.”

“Not any worse than dads hands hittin’ your face while they sit at the kitchen table.” You cringe at his statement, seeing Roy hit Karen more times than you can count. “You don’t run this house. Or tell me what to do.” He spits on the ground and turns away, waiting till he hears the door slam to speak.

“I fuckin hate her. She’s sucha little bitch.”

You wrap your arms around his middle, breathing him in. “Can stay at mine tonight if you want. Don’t wanna get you in trouble,” you murmur into his shirt. “O-or we can spend a night apart. I know we haven’t done that inna while but just till this blows over an’ we know she didn’t say nothin’ to your father.”

You know you're rambling, but all you want is to make Gators life comfortable and safe. You know there is a small chance that Karen will call Roy, tell him what happened, maybe even lie (she’s done that before) and say you upset her. If that happens, Gator will get it good, possibly another broken arm or dislocated jaw. That’s the last thing you want. You can feel you chest ache, eyes burning at the idea of Roy hurtin’ him.

Gator pulls your face back from his chest, making you look up at him, “don’t you be worryin’ bout me now. Roy ain’t gonna do shit and I don’t sleep when you aren’t curled up next to me,” he kisses your forehead. “I’ll put some feelers out to see if that little bitch called him. Gotta meeting at 3 with him.”

You nod, your hand coming up to fix his jacket. In reality, you just need something to distract from the burning behind your eyes.

“Hey? I’m serious. I’ll be fine, okay?” He lets you go to reach into his pocket, pulling out some cash and handing it to you, “why don’t you go get your nails done or something, yeah?”

You know refusing to take the money wont go well, so you take it, putting it in the pocket of your jacket. “Thank you, daddy,” you whisper out, knowing you aren’t really supposed to say that outside of Gators locked bedroom door.

He lets it slide, the day has been stressful enough for you. “That’s my good bunny. Now, run along and I’ll meet you here at six okay?”

You tilt your head, “no station tonight?”

“Nah… Jerry is working and he’s got a starin’ problem when it comes to ya. Don’t feel like scoopin’ eyeballs out. Too messy.”

You shudder but kiss him goodbye before getting in your car. You have a very bad feeling his 3pm meeting isn’t going to go how he expects.

…

You were right.

You knew you were right the second you pulled up to his house at six on the dot and he wasn’t home. You reach for your phone, looking to see if maybe you’d missed a text, phone call, shit even an email from your boyfriend.

Nothing.

Even when you try to call him, you're met with a voicemail. You can feel the bile rise in the back of your throat, fear making your skin itch. Was this it? Was this the time Roy sends him out there to do his dirty work and he doesn’t make it home?

He could be anywhere right now. Not only that, if he was dead, no one would do shit for him. No funeral, no service, nothing. His dad would go on and wipe his hands clean of his “loser” son, probably more than happy that the ties of his first wife are gone for good.

Oh God, what if he was dying, the cold freezing the blood onto his skin, frostbite settling in. He could be so scared, praying to the God he doesn’t believe in that you come find him. His clothes are probably wet too, sticking to him thanks to the sn-

A knock on your window makes you jump, a yelp falling from your lips. You look over, seeing the blue of his jacket in your peripheral and the sight makes you gasp. You’re quick to shut off the car, jumping out and getting a closer look at him.

He looks… awful. His right eye is nearly swollen shut, dry blood sticking to his split brow. There is a bruise on the other side of his face and under his left eyes, clearly he got hit in the nose.

“Baby…” this time you can't stop the tears from falling. “Baby what happened?”

He lets out a long, deep sigh, his hands resting on your cheeks. “Fuckin’ cunt called dad. Said I needed a lesson in respect. S’how I got the bruise on my left eye.” He wipes the tear that falls from your eye, his touch soft and kind, “sent me to do some shit across state lines. Guy beat the fuck outta me. He ain’t alive no more though.”

You sniffle, “is it just your face?”

He shakes his head but doesn’t say more. He knows you’ll see the rest once he gets you inside. Well … “we-I can’t let you sleep here tonight, Gator.”

He shakes his head, “it’s fine. Dad said so himself. Come on.”

And so he drags you inside, Karen looking like the cat that caught the canary as she watches you help Gator walk. You make a mental note to never forget this, never forget how she treats her step-son.

You push open Gators bedroom door, making sure to shut it silently and lock it before settling Gator on the bed. “Let’s get ya into some comfy clothes, yeah?”

You crouch down in front of him, making quick work of untying his boots.

“Baby, I can do this. I’m the one who's supposed to help you.”

That only makes more tears burn your eyes. You hated that he never let anyone help him, hated that he always had to be strong, couldn’t ever cry, nothing. You hated Roy for making him like this and you hated his mother for leaving and not saving her only son from a life of pain.

“Stop. Just-just let me help you, Gator please.” You pull at the laces to loosen them and make it easier to slide off his boot, your vision blurry from the tears in your eyes.

His boot comes off easy and you make sure you keep your hold on it so it doesn’t make any noise on the floor. Same with the second one.

You stand, unclipping his thigh holster and setting it on the nightstand where he likes it. Incase of emergencies. Next is his belt, coming off with ease. He stops you when you get to his pants, making you look up at him. He hates the silver shining along your waterline.

“I love you, little bunny.” He says it so quietly that you almost miss it.

“I love you too.” Your voice cracks as you say.

You work on his pants, popping open the buttons with ease. Next you pull his shirt out of his pants and pull it over his head. By the time his shirt hits the floor, you’ve gotten a full look at his bare torso. A bruise is forming along his ribs, it’s really red and slightly turning purple.

“Jeez baby,” your hands gently touch his skin and he hisses a little. “S-sorry.”

He says nothing as he helps you pull off his pants, leaving him in just his boxers.

“Stay here,” you tell him as you collect his dirty clothes and go into his attached bathroom. You sigh as you grab a face cloth, turning the water on so it heats up. It, of course, takes forever for the water to warm. Nothing like shit water heating thanks to the frigid winter. But once it does you wet the cloth and grab the first aid kit and go back to him.

You’ve done this before, cleaned him up, you’ve even stitched him up. You’d like to thank the internet for telling you how to do that and you’ve gotten good over the last two years.

“S’is gonna hurt. Luckily it looks like you don’t need stitches. Just don’t move while I work okay?”

He nods, “yes, baby. Ya don’t have to do this. I know you don’t like blood.” This was true, you didn’t like blood at all, barely even being able to handle papercuts. But for some reason, when it comes to him, you can manage to push it aside. Cuts can get infected and when they’re on his face it means it could go to the brain faster.

You carefully dab the wet rag around his split eyebrow, gently clearing off the blood and making sure that you don’t resplit the cut open. “I think it split from the swellin’ but I don’t think it needs stitches.”

He nods slightly, “good. I was hoping it’d close on its own.”

You put some wound cleaner on it before you bandage it. He might have a scar there unless he leaves it alone. But knowing Gator, it’ll open again. You clean up around his face and causing a hiss to leave his lips once you touch his cheek and eye. You apologize, applying some cream that makes bruises heal faster to his face and ribs.

“That’s everything.” You force a small smile at him, tossing the wet cloth into the hamper and putting the first aid kit away. You get undressed, needing skin to skin contact. Then, you climb into bed, snuggling up to him, resting your head on the safe side of his chest.

The silence stretches, Gators arm around your shoulders, his thumb moving softly.

“I thought you were dead in the snow,” the words tumble out of you before you can stop them.

He thumb stills for a heartbeat before resuming, “but m’not.”

“I’m sorry this is the life you were forced into. It is not fair.”

He kisses your head, breathing you in for a moment, “it’s not your fault, bunny. You didn’t do any of this. Shoulda kept my mouth shut when it came to Karen. Just… smile an’ wave.”

You shake your head, kissing his chest, “not how it’s supposed to be.”

Gator rolls over you, forcing you on your back. He bites back a pained groan. “My sweet bunny, listen to me. I am here. I am safe. S’gonna take a lot more to kill me.” He leans down, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

You let your hands slide into his hair, deepening the kiss. Honestly, you just need to feel him. He knows it and if he’s being honest, he needs to feel you too. He’ll never say it out loud, but as he laid in the snow, doing his best to get the fucker he was sent to kill off of him, he was scared.

Scared he would die and you’d spend the rest of you life wondering. He knew no one would fill you in and he knew his daddy wouldn’t have a service for him. You’d be alone, wondering what happened to him, praying to the god you don’t believe in that he’d come home again. So, he fought like hell and now, he really needs you. Needs to be inside you.

You pull back, breaking the kiss, “Gator, we can’t.”

“We can. Please baby.” Gator doesn’t beg, he didn’t need to when it came to you. Always more than willing to do what he says and give him what he wants. His begging makes you give in.

His hands push your underwear aside, feeling how ready you already are for him. Always ready, always wanting and only for him.

You pull him in for a kiss while his fingers find your clit with ease, swallowing your moans. He always knows exactly how you like it, fingers moving in swift circles and just the right amount of pressure.

“So fucking pretty when you’re at my mercy,” he pushes two fingers inside you, the stretch making your brain go fuzzy. “Looked so fucking pretty in your little skirt and frilly socks. My little angel.”

The way Gator is cooing at you, his fingers crooked up to touch the one spot that drives you nuts and you can feel yourself slipping into that headspace you both love. You’re trying so hard to be logical, knowing he’s hurt and can hurt himself further.

“Thank you, daddy. Bought it because I thought you’d like it.” Your voice is getting small, breathy.

He grins, kissing down your neck, “I love it. Love everything you wear. Look so pretty in your pastels.” His thumb finds your clit, a soft moan falling from your lips. It’s embarrasing how quickly you are to coming around his fingers.

“P-please. Gator please.”

He smirks, “use your words, sweet girl. Tell me what you want.”

You can feel your body heat up from both the coil inside you winding tighter and the embarrassment of having to say what you want. “I-I need to cum. So bad.”

The second the words are in the air, Gator pulls his hands away, leaving your orgasm to fade away. “NO! No, no, no, no please!”

He sucks a mark into your neck, his tongue licking over the spot to sooth it.

“Need ya to cum on my cock, baby.”

Before your brain can catch up, he’s sliding inside you. The stretch is something you haven't gotten used to in the last two years. It feels like he's splitting you in half, his cock filling you completely.

“OH! Oh my god.” You're already panting, squeezing him so hard he’s fighting to not bust prematurely.

Gator drops to his forearms and pumps his hips, getting right in your face. He’s so close you can smell the fruity scent from the vape he was no doubt huffing on before coming to see you.

“S’right baby, I am your God and I love when ya pray to me.”

You can’t help the way your cunt clenches, a moan falling from your lips that is just slightly too loud for either of your comforts. At the moment, you don’t care. You know Roy already got his fill of kicking Gatos' ass. He’s not going to worry about it tonight.

“Daddy, please. I’m so close.”

His hips are snapping hard, cock hitting your cervix with every thrust. He feels like he’s inside your throat and you can’t tell if his grunts are from pain, pleasure, or both.

“Not yet. Almost there. D-don’t cum yet.”

Your nails sink into his biceps, hips starting to stutter.

“Please! Fuck! Oh god…”

He smirks, eyes meeting yours, “yeah? I know how bad ya need it. How bad ya need me to fill this pretty, little cunt up. Breed an own ya f’ever? Hm?” His eyes are black and he looks absolutely feral. Primal.

His hand snakes down the front of your body, finding your clit with ease. You gasp, thighs starting to shake. You knew you weren’t going to last but you needed his permission. You craved his praise and being in his good graces. You’d let him do anything to you, that’s how much you trust him.

“Yes! Yes! Whatever you want. Anything.” You don’t even know what you’re saying at this point, too cock drunk to think of anything besides him and what he’s doing to you.

He laughs, seeing your eyes glazed over and tears of pleasure lining your eyes, “cum for me bunny. Do it.”

It’s all you need to fall into bliss.

His hand covers your mouth knowing how loud you’re about to be. His face drops into your neck as he cums with you, both of your moans muffled by each other's bodies. His cum fills you, leaking out as he brings you both down.

His hand slowly leaves your mouth, head lifting to look at you.

“I love you. I fuckin’ love you so fuckin’ much.” He leaves little kisses all over your face, trying to bring you back to him. “You hear me? M’never leavin’ you.”

You take a shuddering inhale, trying to form a coherent thought, “P-promise?”

You hold your pinky up to him, hands shaking while adrenalin continues to run through your veins. He giggles, hooking his pinky with yours, “promise. I’ll always come home to you. I will always fall asleep next to you.”

He looks down, flipping your hand over and checking out your nails, “I can’t wait for these pretty, red claws to be wrapped around my cock.”

Your chest lightens as you both laugh together.

#gator tillman fargo #Gator Tillman #fargo season 5 #fargo fanfic #Gator Tillman x reader #gator tillman x fem!reader #gator tillman smut #gator tillman fic #gator tillman imagine #gator tillman x y/n #joe keery #joe keery fargo

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sammysficfactory · 2 years ago

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JJK men’s reaction to you calling them a whore/slut

characters: nanami, gojo, geto, and toji

notes: if you want me to go more in depth for a character lmk!

Nanami Kento

oh em gee

he is SHOCKED

have you no shame? no decorum?

“You look like a whore when you wear your suit without a blazer.” you deadpanned.

“Excuse me?” Nanami is thoroughly confused, hoping he didn’t hear you correctly. But he did. And who could blame you?

“You heard what I said.” You shrug.

he would never admit it, but he liked it

the way you said it so outright threw him for a LOOP honey

if he were a rich woman he’d be clutching his pearls

“Don’t say it like that. Just say you think it’s nice and move on like normal people do.” Nanami rolls his eyes at you. If you looked close enough you could see a light pink dusting the tips of his ears.

you laugh at him for being flustered

but you’re a good person so you suppress it a little bit

as you call him a whore more often he gets used to it

don’t get me wrong, it still flusters the hell out of him

but he’s accepted it as part of your relationship dynamic

Satoru Gojo

i can’t even lie to you

gojo would like it

“You look like a slut in that outfit.” You say in a nonchalant fashion. Gojo smirks.

“Do I look like a slut? Or do you see something you like.” he leans forward to you, the proximity of your faces distressingly close.

if you thought his ego was big then

i can promise you it’s 10x bigger now

“You want me so bad.” Gojo laughs smugly. You scoff.

“You wish.”

the truth is you DID want him

he was in that black tee and wearing sweats😩

I CANT BLAME YOU

despite the two of you being in a relationship gojo loved to tease you like you were still single

gojo probably bites his finger every time he thinks about the first time you called him a slut

every few weeks he texts you ‘remember that time you wanted me so bad that you said i looked like a slut? i do🤭’

he be swinging his feet back and forth as he types it out

Geto Suguru

if he’s nothing else, he’s definitely gojo’s friend

he’s a good sport about it

“You look like a whore when your hair is in a bun.” Geto does a double take.

“I- what?” He’s confused. One moment you were sitting in a peaceful silence with your boyfriend, and the next you’re calling him a slut?

very confused about the train of thought you took to get to that conclusion

but after a few times he gets used to it

and his replies are definitely something

“You look like a slut in those glasses.” you say flatly. Geto sighs,

“Come slut me out then.” he says, leaning back and spreading his legs slightly on the couch.

when you hear him say it for the first time you almost caught whiplash

you for the first time in the entirety of your relationship, were at a loss for words

it was BAD

you opened and closed your mouth like a goldfish bc you couldn’t find anything to say

you in fact do slut him out once you gather yourself

he’s smug asf for the next week

Toji Fushiguro

he’s shocked too

but his reaction was a lot different

“Toji, you look really slutty in that outfit.” You eye him up and down.

“Bitch?” he quickly apologizes for his knee-jerk reaction.

“Watch that bitch word, Toji! Deadass.” You narrow your eyes at him. He already knew how you felt about that word.

he saw his life flash before his eyes when he said ‘bitch’

he’s super smug too

he isn’t as bad as gojo or geto though

it becomes a running inside joke between the two of you

toji would do shit like send photos of his outfit and say ‘feeling extra slutty today’

and it might make you chuckle a little when he sends them

“You’re not going to the market with me looking like a whore Toji, go change.” you joked.

“Wow, are you slut shaming me right now? I thought you were a feminist.” He accuses you in fake shock.

“I’m getting women’s lick back.” you justify yourself.

does it sound kinda weird to other people? yes

but did you care is the real question

the answer is no

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 years ago

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Dress Code | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! this is a repost because some bitch ass reported my original posting of this fic 🙄

warnings: asshole exes, anxiety, some alcohol

You didn’t hear Bucky call out for you. He tried once, twice, to get your attention, but failed. Only when appeared behind you in the bathroom mirror did you notice his presence. You jumped, silently cursing the winter soldier training that made him so stealthy. And while you always loved to spend time with him, you hadn’t intended to show him your outfit. You didn’t even know why you tried it on. It sat at the back of your closet for almost a year and a half, ignored.

But Bucky’s unannounced presence put you in a difficult position. It was too late- he’d seen the outfit never meant for his view.

“Oh, wow…” his voice pulled you back to reality. A long moment passed as he raked his gaze slowly over your form in the mirror. “You look incredible.” His mouth nearly watered at the sight of you in such an out of character ensemble. Black, tight, revealing. It gave away just enough without revealing everything, teasing Bucky with what remained concealed.

You gave him a sheepish smile in the mirror, not ready to face him for real. “Oh, um, thanks, babe… you like it?”

He gave a nod so vehement that you feared he’d get whiplash. “We might not even make it to the party…” He shot you a devilish wink that made your chest tighten. “I’ll tell Nat you looked too delicious for me to share you- I’m sure she’ll understand.”

A shy laugh made its way out of your mouth as you picked at your cuticles. You’d done your nails just for tonight, but suddenly had the urge to peel the polish right off. “Um, I actually might change, though- I’m not sure. But I swear I’ll be ready soon.”

Bucky placed his hands on your hips and gently turned you toward him, placing a light kiss to your glossed lips. “No rush, doll. I just came in here to ask- what kind of wine does Nat drink? Sam wants to get her a bottle, but he wasn’t sure what she likes.” His fingers trailed up and down your sides as a mischievous smile pricked at the corners of his mouth. “I just got distracted by the absolute goddess standing in front of me…”

A rush of warmth flooded your cheeks. “She um, she likes reds. Cab is her favorite, but she’ll drink merlot.”

He granted you another chaste kiss. Bucky had experienced a lot of hardship in his life, endured more torment than anyone could imagine. But keeping his hunger for you under control proved to be the hardest thing he’d ever done. And when he pulled away from your lips, he only managed to drag his eyes away from you long enough to reply to Sam’s text.

As Bucky typed, you faced the mirror once again. You had to admit- you did look amazing. But you still feared leaving the apartment in such an outfit. Maybe you’d keep it relegated to the bedroom, allowing Bucky- and only Bucky - to see it.

“Are you sure…” you said, your voice timid. “Is it okay if I wear this?”

Bucky gave you a laugh and rested his hands on your hips. “Well, I’m not the best person to ask for fashion advice, cause I mostly wear black on black. On black,” he gestured to his monochromatic outfit. “But you look amazing. So, I say go for it, doll.”

Bucky’s praise warmed your cheeks once again, but you remained conflicted. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely! You know how causal Nat is- the last place you’d find a dress code is at one of her parties.” He pressed his chest to your back and dropped a few kisses along your neck. “In fact, she might even try to steal you away from me.”

You gave Bucky a roll of your eyes and contemplated your options. Sure, you could slip into a pair of jeans and a cute top like always, but something in you wanted to pull out a new look. Something fun. And this dress was the perfect choice. Bucky clearly though you looked like a knockout, and you loved the way the fabric hugged your body. No event was more perfect for this dress than one of Nat’s parties- it was meant to be.

“Well, in that case, I’m ready to go.” You took Bucky by the hand and led him out of the bathroom, more confident than ever. But the seed of doubt you’d planted earlier began blossoming into full on worry. And before you even made it out the bedroom door, you found yourself doubling back.

“Oh, actually- I’m gonna grab a jacket real quick.”

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “are you sure? It’s pretty warm tonight, sweets, and this is an outdoor shindig.”

You gave an overly casual shrug, “yeah. Just in case- never know when you’ll need it.”

The night went off without a hitch. You spent hours sipping on elderflower & pear seltzers and laughing with your closest friends. Compliment after compliment flew your way- everyone loved your look. Red wine flowed and music pounded. And like a group of schoolchildren, the party quickly separated into a group of guys and a group of women. You spent your evening with Nat, Maria, Wanda, and the rest of the girls while Sam, Clint, Scott and a few other guys stood near the bar.

But Bucky blurred the line. He couldn’t keep his hands off you, couldn’t resist you in the slightest. Every twenty minutes or so, he felt compelled to pay you a visit. He was drawn to you with no hope of resisting- not that he ever wanted to.

Observing you from afar just wasn’t good enough. He needed to be up close and personal; close enough to smell your perfume, to taste the wine on your lips. He never wanted to impede on your time with Nat and the other girls, but you were just too mesmerizing. It almost seemed as though he were a sailor, and you, his siren. And if you led him to his death with your tantalizing, magnetic song, he wouldn’t mind.

And though you appeared to have a great time, Bucky clocked a slight tension. A stiffness in your shoulders. A rigidity in your jaw. It wasn’t constant. But it was there. And Bucky wondered what had you so uncomfortable. He kept an eye out for outsiders and made sure your drinks were safe- nothing felt out of the ordinary.

And as he escorted you to his car after the night’s festivities came to an end, you didn’t bring it up. You didn’t mention a creepy stranger or an off-color comment from Sharon. Only positives spilled from your wine-stained lips.

When you finally arrived home, Bucky opened the door to the apartment and guided you inside. The alcohol was on top of you, and he didn’t fully trust your teetering steps. The last thing he wanted was for you to twist your ankle.

“I’m ready to not be walking on knives…” you said- or, slurred. You rocked side to side, the effects of the alcohol pushing you off balance as you tried to escape your heels.

“Here, let me, baby …” Bucky steadied your body against a wall before kneeling in front of you.

He carefully unbuckled one heel at a time, and slipped your foot out of the tight shoe. “This is like a reverse-Cinderella situation, isn’t it?” He laughed, staring up at your slack-jawed smile, “only I wouldn’t have to try your shoe on every woman in town.” He stood and swiped a bit of smeared lipstick from your skin- before smearing a bit more with his own lips. “I mean, who could forget a face like this?”

A contented sigh left your chest as you melted against him, “I’m really glad we went tonight. I like celebrating Nat.”

Bucky trailed kisses around your hairline and across your cheek. “Yeah? Good. I was afraid…” he almost stopped himself. You were drunk. Sleepy. Maybe this wasn’t the right time. But if he waited till tomorrow, he knew there was a chance you’d come up with an excuse by then. “I thought maybe you weren’t having a good time.”

You cocked your head to the side, your glassy eyes narrowing just a touch. “Huh? Why?”

Bucky shrugged. “Well, you seemed a little tense, doll. All night. I kind of thought maybe you were upset or something. It seemed like…” He let out a sigh. Maybe he was projecting. He always assumed he’d done something wrong. Or that he hadn’t done something you wanted him to. But he needed to know. All he ever wanted was to be better- the best- for you. He wanted constructive criticism and performance reviews. He needed to be as perfect for you as you were for him. And so, he pressed on, “Every time I walked over, you kinda stiffened up.”

A frown pulled your features downward. Your hands shot up to Bucky’s cheeks and pulled his face toward yours. “Oh, Buck, oh no- I’m sorry. You didn’t do anything…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he laughed. “I just wanted to double check.”

“I only thought you might do something- or, actually…” You paused for a moment, formulating your drunk, murky thoughts. “It really has nothing to do with you.”

Bucky wasn’t following. He was certain that this was a mistake, that he should’ve waited till morning to bring it up. But it was too late now.

“I just kinda got used to it and so I expected it to happen. But you didn’t do it!” You gave his cheeks a gentle squish. “So it’s all good.” With that, your lips swept against his in a soft kiss, smearing his skin with your lipstick.

Bucky almost didn’t want to ask. But he needed to know. “I didn’t do what, baby?”

“You know,” you shrugged, “call me slut.”

Bucky’s ears started ringing. There was no way her heard you right- was there? Maybe he was drunk- no, he couldn’t get drunk. Maybe he imagined it? “Wait, what? Why would I call you a…” he didn’t want to say it. “Why would I do that?”

“Because of my outfit!” You said it so casually, so matter of fact. Almost as though it were normal. “It’s pretty tight. And revealing. And my titties are almost, like, all the way out.” You gave your chest a shake. “So I thought you’d get mad at me. But you didn’t!” You pressed another long kiss to his lips, “thanks for not yelling.” A soft, tired smile punctuated your sentence. But Bucky knew this was a red flag.

He knew instantly this was a holdover from your ex. The one who belittled you, criticized you, acted as though you belonged to him. He made you feel like you were his property, like he was in control of your entire life. What you wore, what you ate, what you watched- he decided.

He was insecure. He knew how beautiful you were, how out of his league. And so, he opted to tear you down. To blame you for his own self-doubt. To chastise and berate you for showing what he deemed ‘too much’ skin or wearing ‘too much’ make up. He always asked who you were dressing up for, who you were trying to impress. If not him, who else was there? What other reason did you have to get dolled up?

He even went through your closet once while you were away, ridding your wardrobe of anything he deemed ‘inappropriate’. He threw it all out and called you a slut, a whore- simply for owning such clothing.

He required you get his permission to wear anything short or low cut. He assumed you wanted to sleep with- or already slept with- any man you talked to. Coworkers, friends, the barista at your coffee place. He saw everything you did in public as flirtatious and risqué. He said he couldn’t trust you. That your friends were a bad influence. He did everything he could to pull your life apart until only he remained.

“Okay, we’re gonna talk about this more when you’re sober,” Bucky said, “But I’m never going to yell at you- especially not for something as inconsequential as an outftit.”

“You can yell at me,” you sighed. It was the sound of someone dejected, resigned- someone forced into submission. “Sometimes I don’t learn my lesson, and so I need to be yelled at. Ya know?” Your sad smile made another appearance.

Bucky shook his head. He was disgusted with your ex. With men in general, really. “No, that’s just something he told you, doll. You don’t need to be yelled at. I’m your boyfriend- not your parent, not your boss. I’m not going to yell at you- ever.”

You perked up suddenly. “Really? I like that, I like not being yelled at.”

Bucky nodded and left a kiss against your forehead. “You’re a fully grown adult; you’re allowed to wear whatever you want- you know that, right? You’re-” He took a pause and the quickly rephrased, “This is not me giving you permission. You don’t need my permission. I’m just saying, it’s your body. They’re your clothes. You should wear what makes you happy, not what you think I’ll ‘allow’”.

You stared up at him, struggling to make sense of such a foreign concept. “Are you sure? Cause… what if, what if I wanna wear something like, really slutty?”

Bucky’s head fell back in a laugh, “That’s not something I’ll ever I be opposed to.”

“But what if-”

“Baby, no ‘what ifs’. No ‘buts’. You should wear whatever you want, whether it’s a parka and snow pants or fishnets and those... those-” he made groping motions at his chest and came up empty, “what are they called? The sticky boob things?”

“Chicken cutlets!” you laughed.

“Yeah! Chicken cutlets!” He couldn't help but laugh at the ridiculous name. “You don’t belong to anyone but yourself. Your body is yours. And if you want to wear nothing but chicken cutlets or those little pasty things, that’s your choice.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, weighing the truth of his words. The way you’d been treated was dehumanizing. Demoralizing. Asking permission for something as simple as clothing always made you feel stupid. Small. Ashamed. And though hearing Bucky say these things eased the tension in your shoulders, the apprehension in your chest remained.

“I just don’t wanna…” It felt stupid saying what you feared. You felt like a child. “I just don’t wanna get in trouble.” The admission came with a heavy sigh and few unexpected tears. You lived on a leash for so long it made freedom sound scary.

Bucky pulled you close and showed you the love you needed. He let you breathe. Unlearning the things your ex ingrained in you would take time, this Bucky knew. But he was more than happy to help you on the journey.

“You’re not gonna get in trouble. You can’t get in trouble- not with me.” He pulled your face from his chest and rested his palms against your cheeks, “I’m not in charge of you.”

Meeting his eyeline was hard; shame still had its hooks in you. “But what if I wear something really revealing and other guys hit on me?”

Bucky tucked a finger under your chin and lifted your head ever so slightly. When your eyes finally met his, you found an almost amused smile on his face. “Doll, I know how to fight,” he said with a wink. “It’s my job. Wear whatever you want. And if someone tries to make you uncomfortable, they’ll have me to answer to. Okay?”

This time, your smile was genuine. “Okay,” you laughed, “thanks, Buck. You the best.” You melted against his body with a sigh and barely noticed that he’d swept you up into his arms. No one ever cared for you the way he did. When you’d first met, part of you thought it was a front. Maybe he was trying to right the wrongs of his past by overcorrecting.

But it was real- all of it. His adoration for you, his devotion to you; everything he said was genuine. And as he carried you to bed and helped you get into some pajamas, you knew you’d never have to walk on eggshells with him. He’d never make you ask for permission or beg for forgiveness. He only wanted you to be happy. And if you wanted to wear a different, outrageous, barely-there outfit every day of the week, he’d happily fight off any man who dared comment.

——————————

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slutforleeminho · 2 years ago

Note

how about dom maid minho 🥺

btw can i be the 🌌 anon pls

ofc you can be 🌌 anon! wow… this really has the wheels turning in my head

“it’s cute, right?” minho asked, referring to the maid outfit he was currently wearing. his voice was low and deep, even with the cute little dress he was wearing, he was still making you flustered. you were so deep in thought that you didn’t even notice him approach you, until he placed his index finger under your chin and tilted your head up until you tore your eyes off of his thighs that were peaking out from under the skirt to meet his gaze.

“i asked you a question, love” his eyes were dark and overflowing with lust. after a few moments with no answer, he grew impatient and wrapped the hand that was under your chin around your neck and and pushed you until your back pressed against the wall, caging you in between the cold surface, and his body that was radiating heat. “what’s the matter? cat got your tongue?” he continued to tease you “if you don’t like it i can just take it off”

“no!” you grabbed his waist and wrapped your arms around him so he couldn’t create any distance between you two. “i like it. i really, really like it” you watched as the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement at your eagerness and the hand around your neck squeezed lightly before releasing you, only to wrap it around your wrist and lead you to the bed. he sat with his back against the head board, and his legs spread, the lace along the hem of the dress laying over his upper thighs. he put his hands on your hips to lead you onto his lap so you were straddling him.

he looked up into your eyes, his were sparkling, like he was the most innocent thing you’ve ever seen, when in reality he was the farthest thing from innocent, and the next five words that came out of his mouth only proved you right.

“do you want to ride?” his hands kneaded your ass roughly as he spoke so softly. his duality was giving you whiplash, along with the way you nodded your head so fast. he giggled at your reaction and wiggled your pants off and raised the skirt of the dress over his erection revealing he had nothing on underneath. he aligned himself to your entrance and let out a grunt when his tip easily slid through your dripping folds.

“well what are you waiting for? sit on it.” he demanded and you didn’t think twice before sinking down onto his cock until he was fully nestled inside you. you both moaned in unison from the friction, and you rested your forehead against his, trying to steady your breathing. “look at me” he placed his palm against your cheek and wiped away a tear, that you didn’t even know was there, with his thumb. “aww baby does it hurt? or does it feel too good?” he lifted his hips to emphasize the last word, hitting even deeper. “feels so good min” you moaned out, nuzzling your cheek into his palm and only just now noticing the little headband he was wearing. it was black with a little bit of white lace around the edges to match the rest of his outfit and it made your wall’s clench and a whimper to escape your lips. you reached your hand out to touch it and feel it in between your fingertips. minhos grip on your hip tightened and that’s when you realized you were roughly grinding down on him in search for more.

“you really do like this don’t you?” he sounded surprised and like he was more so saying it to himself than actually asking you, but you still answered anyways. “i fucking love this” you were now fully bouncing on him, moaning every time your hips met his. he pulled your shirt up and shoved the hem into your mouth to muffle your moans and so he could watch your tits bounce as you rode him.

you were getting dangerously close and you could tell by the constant twitching of his cock that he was to. “fuck! can i cum?” your voice was high pitched and squeaky. “since you asked so nicely. cum for me, beautiful” you took one last look over his little outfit and you were cumming. your legs basically gave out on you as you collapsed onto him. so he positioned himself and started fucking up into you until he was spilling his seed into you and letting out a string of curses.

after recovering from your orgasm and rolled off of him. he stood and was about to walk to the bathroom to start the shower but stopped when you said his name. “does this mean i wear the pants in this relationship now?” you laughed when he raised an eyebrow.

“sure,” he continued walking to the bathroom, the dress swaying with each step. “if you want to ride me every night, and pay for every meal, and-“

“okay! i get it” you smiled when you heard the shower running and rolled off the bed to join your boyfriend.

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