#he's not remotely the hottest one | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ham1lton · 6 months ago

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WET DREAMZ.

pairings: sebastian vettel x reader. lewis hamilton x reader. jenson button x reader. nico rosberg x reader. fernando alonso x reader.

summary: when you move next door to a hot single dad, you take it upon yourself to seduce him. too bad for you that he uncovers your plan. you’re not exactly subtle.

warnings: sexual content. like most of this is straight up smut. mdni. explicit mentions of f!reader’s body parts. charles cameo in nico’s! implied cheating in fernando’s.

author’s note: i woke up in a fugue and wrote this as i ignored all of my adult responsibilities. show it some love <3 also no beta. we die like men.

— taglist | tip jar | feedback and requests | masterlist | ♡

SEBASTIAN VETTEL ✿

when your company allowed you to work remotely, you moved into a smaller village on the outskirts of germany. your family and friends weren’t too happy with your decision to move but with the current economic state of your country at the moment, it was great for your bank account.

your house was a modest affair, with three bedrooms but a gorgeous kitchen that gave you direct visual access into your neighbour’s backyard. the same neighbour who knocked on your door when you first moved in, with a jar of honey and some eggs as a housewarming gift. he was covered with a light sheen of sweat that would have seemed disgusting on anyone else. he introduced himself in german and switched to lightly accented english when he saw your confusion.

he’d sometimes pass you when he was walking his dog, or cycling to the farmer’s market. he’d make his kids wave hello as he’d pick them up and drop them off at their mother’s. he’d take your cakes when you’d exhausted your baking hobbies and would burst if you’d have another slice. he’d grin and smile bashfully when you told him you’d made one just the way he’d liked it.

as you watch him, he turns around and waves at you. a big grin splitting his face as you wave back. you’re so fucked. you spent an hour on facetime last night with your best friends as you went through the pros and cons of fucking your hot neighbour.

the cons outweighed the pros mostly, if it went badly you could lose access to the free gifts he’d bring by occasionally or his help when he would have a look at your car when it started spluttering when you needed to buy groceries. it would be weird too. aren’t adults supposed to be on good terms with their neighbours?

it didn’t stop you from you asking him if you could wait out the storm in his house instead of yours as all the lights had gone out and when he kissed you, you were shocked. you hadn’t needed to come up with a plan to seduce him into wanting you, because he already did.

he had you spread over his lap, his ring finger and his middle finger already in your centre. the sounds of your arousal filling the room as you fucked yourself against his digits. he smiled into the crook of your neck before kissing it.

“i knew you were this desperate for it,” he hums, his german accent thicker as he pressed his thumb lightly against your clit. he’s teasing you, and normally you’d be okay with it. playing this mutual game of cat and mouse but not when you’re this desperate to get off. “it’s okay. because i was desperate for it too.”

your eyes roll back as you reach your peak.

LEWIS HAMILTON ᯽

after your promotion, you decide to treat yourself to a summer home in monaco. it’s a flat in an expensive complex, with a pool, a gym and even a spa. you’d spend many days relaxing and enjoying the amenities or shopping with the bonus money that your boss had bestowed upon you for sealing a contract with one of the biggest businesses in your country. this was your time to relax.

yet, you couldn’t relax. as you finished your daily workout - yes you now had the time - you saw the hottest man in your entire life walk past you in a loose gym set. embarrassingly, you were filling up your water bottle which overflowed and covered you with the excess. thank god he didn’t see.

you hadn’t been much of a femme fatale, you were more of a business woman in your head. your sister told you that there wasn’t much difference between the two, just that the femme fatale chose a different line of business. it was that comment that encouraged you to start your plan of seduction.

it wasn’t working, even when you wore your best gym outfit, the one that made your ass look incredible, or when you attempted to bump into him at the complex’s coffee shop in the cute two piece that exposed your best assets. it seemed like he disappeared.

until he knocked at your door at the middle of the day, you opened it to see him dressed in a suit. for a selfish second, your thoughts drifted to him wearing this for you.

“do you mind watching my dog? roscoe is in a mood today and my usual dogsitter is busy. i have a meeting that is impossible for me to get out of. you’ll be doing me a big favour.” oh. he was british.

you smile at him, as graciously as you can. thanking god that you had just come back from brunch with the girls, so your hair and makeup were still done. you told him all about how much you love dogs and you wouldn’t mind at all watching his fur baby! you were a lovely neighbour after all.

he repaid the favour later anyways, on his knees and in between your legs. he pulls down your underwear, you had shaved in anxious preparation for this moment, your arousal leaving a stain against the fabric. he pressed his thumb against your folds before licking a stripe between them. his tongue flicking against you, as you pressed down harder on his face.

your moans were loud and unapologetic. you had a gorgeous man between your thighs, eating you out like this was his calling. he grinned at you, his face drenched in your juices. you groaned and put your hands on his braids.

now this was a holiday.

JENSON BUTTON ☆

moving to the big city was supposed to be a shock, but you took to it gracefully like a duck to water. london wasn’t the nicest to everyone but it took a liking to you. you bought a house with your best friend in a family neighbourhood with low crime rates and a high chance of getting more money when you’d both inevitably sell it in the future.

it was walkable which you loved. you could walk less then ten minutes to go shopping. you had come back with a few shopping bags when you accidentally bumped into your neighbour who was coming back from picking up his daughters. he laughs at the action as he apologises and gives a hand out for you to shake.

“i’m jenson. sorry about that, these two usually have me run off my feet!” he points at his two daughters who have already ran insider the house. “it’s like they’re my parents.”

after shaking your hand, he takes his cap off and runs a hand through his slightly greying hair. he’s wearing a pair of shorts with a loose t-shirt. it is almost summertime but the weather in london had a mind of its own. sunny one day, rainy the next and freezing for both. but jenson didn’t seem to mind the cold.

you introduce yourself and he listens intently until you realise that you have to go. there is frozen food in the bags and jenson’s daughters are calling for their post-school snack. but after that meeting, you always time your post shopping trip for when jenson comes back with the girls. your roommate/best friend doesn’t protest when you insist on the shopping being your chore but she does give you a sideways glance when she sees you chatting with jenson again on the step.

one night, you’ve come back from a date. it went awfully as per usual, although london seemed to love you and want you, the men didn’t seem to. you’re home late, when you rummage in your purse and swear loudly. you brought the wrong purse! you could call your roommate but she sleeps like the dead and probably wouldn’t answer. you’re thinking of breaking through the window when a voice calls at you.

“y/n?” jenson grins at you. “are you alright?”

after a moment, and a few minutes of arguing that you’re fine to sleep in the bushes, you’re inside jenson’s home. dressed in a pair of his old clothes. he hands you a cup of tea and puts down a packet of biscuits next to it.

“so, are you going to tell me why i caught you dressed to the nines and attempting to break through a window?” he’s trying to sound stern but he’s smiling as he says it.

“bad date,” you start and smile ruefully, taking a sip of tea. “forgot my keys and well, at least you caught me before i did any damage.”

he laughs. you laugh too but not before realising that there are probably kids sleeping in the house. you bring this up to jenson who waves off your concern.

“the girls are at their mum’s. it’s just us. don’t worry. you can be as loud as you’d like.”

you end up being very loud as you lay on his very comfortable bed. he’s tapping himself again the hood of your clit as you squirm breathless from the earlier orgasm he gave you. he smiles at you, leaning up to kiss you as he slides in, swallowing your gasps as he kisses you firmer.

“you know how long i’ve dreamt of having you like this?” he asks. you shake your head, moaning again as he fucks you harder. “since the first day you bumped into me, in that little fucking skirt. dreamt of bending you over and having you like this. anyway you’d let me. would you?”

you nod, voice locked in your throat as he mouths at your tits. he smiles at your willingness.

“good. we have the entire weekend to ourselves. let’s see how many times i can get you to cum. hmm?” you squeeze yourself around him as you have your first orgasm. your cunt spasming as he gently pulls out. he lets you rest against him for a moment, taking a deep breath as he runs a hand down your back.

“now that’s number one. keep count for me darling, okay?”

NICO ROSBERG 𑁍

you weren’t a yacht person. when your university friend had begged you to come home with her for the holidays, you hadn’t expected the family party to be held on a yacht. this was out of your tax bracket.

it seemed like everyone in monaco was right. the casual displays of wealth and decadence made you sick at times. thinking about how the money that went to buying that birkin bag could have made a change in someone’s life. then you think about how you’re wearing a custom gown on a friend’s yacht and realise that you’re now part of the problem.

a bonus about being in monaco, was that the men were gorgeous. your friend’s older brother charles was handsome with dimples and a gorgeous accent. if he hadn’t been in a relationship with a supermodel, you would have been all over that. thankfully, there was more eye candy in the city. your friend’s father had a business partner that was in their house more often then not.

he was blond, blunt and pretty in all the ways an older man could be. when he looked at you, you felt like the world could burn at your feet. he had also been on the yacht at the same time as you. drinking champagne, mingling with family and investors as you ate canapés and watched the sky.

“is it boring you?” he asks, as you turn around. he was dressed in a loose linen shirt, light coloured trousers with his shirt open just enough to see the smooth skin underneath. “can’t believe she brought you to a work event.”

“it’s fine. there are worse places to be.” you respond. you take a sip of champagne and you both ignore the fact he watches the sip go down. he takes note of the way that you’re still looking in the direction of charles and his girlfriend, the two still wrapped around each other.

“you’ve fallen for the charles charm?” he says, smiling as he sits across from you. he puts his ankles up on the table like he owns it, which he probably does. you can tell a lot from a person’s body language, and his is telling you that he’s used to getting what he wants. “it’s a shame. another pretty girl lost in his eyes. want another drink?”

“pretty girl?”

he nods, blue eyes darkening as he looks at you over the rim of his drink.

“would you want me to show you how pretty i think you are?”

so that’s how you find yourself bent over the sink in the bathroom at a yacht party, your pretty dress bunched up at the waist as he presses his fingers inside you. scissoring them to stretch you wider.

“is this what you imagined he’d do to you?” he asks, voice curious. “that he’d go down on you in one of the bedrooms? he’d let you go down on him? that he’d split you open with his cock as we all walked around upstairs?”

you sob as he talks you through it, mascara running down your cheeks. how are you going to explain to your best friend that you fucked her dear precious uncle nico while talking about her brother. he grinds his palm against your clit as he stands up and gags your mouth with his fingers.

“can’t be too loud honey, don’t want them to hear you.”

FERNANDO ALONSO ꩜

spain was a big adventure for you and your boyfriend. the two of you made the decision to move for a few months to his grandfather’s home to help redesign the place. it was slightly run down but nothing that you couldn’t fix. the goal was to rebuild it in order to sell it off.

however, you hadn’t foreseen that this would effectively destroy what relationship you had with your boyfriend. he insisted on not signing the place under your name despite you also funnelling funds into the rebuilding of the house. after another argument, you decide to take a break. wearing a bikini, and armed with nothing besides water, sunscreen and a good book, you make your way into the backyard. sunning yourself to at least gain something from all the money you’ve put in, even if its just a tan and a relaxing afternoon.

“you’re the new neighbour?” a voice calls out, as he leans against the fence that separates your property. you knew the next door neighbour had kids, you could hear them playing occasionally in the summer sun as you painted. you didn’t know they had a hot dad. that’s new information. he smiles at you. “it’s been a while since there has been a young person. the old man who lived here has been here since before i was even born. you’re his kid?”

“no,” you laugh. “he’s my boyfriend’s grandfather. i’m just here as a cash cow apparently.”

your voice turns a little bitter but why wouldn’t you be? you have put in the same amount of time and effort as he has onto this place and now you’re not getting anything back. court is an option but it’ll drain even more of your bank account.

“why is that?” he asks, head tilted as he looks at you.

you end up spilling everything to him. about the house, the money, the contract that has your name redacted. in return, he tells you that his name is fernando and the kids you always hear playing in his back garden aren’t his but rather his nieces and nephews. it’s nice listening to him speak, with the heavy spanish lilt to his accent. he is the first person in a while who has just listened to your grievances so when he asks you inside for a drink, you don’t hesitate. grabbing your wraparound skirt, you follow him inside.

less then ten minutes later, you’re on his lap, as he presses his mouth against your tits. enveloping one nipple in his mouth while his fingers move to play with your other one. you grind down harder against him, feeling your clit brush against the hard muscle of his thigh. your bottoms are soaked with your arousal as you lean closer and bite his shoulder to stay quiet. he leans away from you for a moment, as your eyes widen worried that you’ve done something wrong.

“don’t be quiet hermosa, let him hear it,” he grins up at you then leans in for a kiss. “isn’t that most of the fun?”

author’s note: sorry y’all idk what came over me.

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aurorawritestoescape · 6 months ago

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AMERICAN BEAUTY

best friend’s dad Joel Miller x f!reader || 2,7k

Summary: Joel sees you in a wet dream. Then you make his dream a reality.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, Joel’s pov, horny!Joel, age gap (reader’s in her early 20s, Joel’s in his late 40s), m/f masturbation, mention of f!oral, mention of piv, m!oral, light degradation/slut shaming, swearing. Pics are for the mood, reader has no specific physical descriptions.

A/n: This is for Jett’s Flora and Fauna Challenge 🌸 Thank you @morallyinept for hosting such an amazing event!💜Hugs and kisses to @iamasaddie for the gif in the m/b♥️Javi’s forehead smooch to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Hope you all will enjoy this filth🌹

Part 2 PLEASE, SIR || MASTERLIST

*****

It’s late. Exhausted after a long work day, Joel is sitting on the couch with a bottle of beer in his hand. He’s mindlessly flipping through channels, taking a sip of the warm alcohol from time to time.

The dark room is lit only by the TV and his pupils jump every time the screen goes black and then explodes with another picture.

A movie catches his attention and he stops pushing the button on the remote control. “American Beauty”. He’s seen it a couple of times, years ago.

He watches a little and then changes the channel. While his eyes are set on an old infomercial, his thoughts wander back to the movie. The iconic scene flashes in his mind - a beautiful girl is lying naked, surrounded by a myriad of red rose petals. Joel chuckles at the irony of him stumbling on that movie but drives the worrying thoughts away. He’s too tired for this.

Soon the exhaustion and the alcohol in his blood take their toll and his eyes close by themselves.

When they open, he sees you. Sarah’s college friend, who is staying with them this spring break. When Sarah asked him if you could crash with them for a few days, he didn’t mind. He was glad that she would have a friend to have fun with.

But the moment he saw you, he knew that he was fucked. When you smiled at him the first time, he blushed like a teenager. You were a knockout beauty. Your voice was the hottest thing he’s ever heard. Your body made his cock twitch every time he laid eyes on you and your sexy crop tops, daisy dukes and bikinis didn’t help. Be damned Austin and its hot weather!

It’s not surprising that he’s dreaming about you now. It’s fucked up but hey, it’s just a dream.

As if his mind is mocking him, he sees you completely naked, while only crimson rose petals are covering your breasts and pussy as well as every inch around you. Some of them are floating around, swirling, dancing in the air.

You look perfect, lying there like an offering to him and he craves to see more. All of you. So he blows on the petals on your chest and they fly away in slow motion, revealing your beautiful breasts. You moan when the soft flowers graze your hardened nipples, and the sound makes Joel’s cock throb with need.

Can he touch you? As soon as this thought crosses his mind he sees his hand splayed on your sternum. He swears he can feel your heartbeat under his calloused palm. He glides his hand to your breast and kneads it. Your lips open and he hears your needy whimper.

He wants to tell you, ‘yes, baby, I’ll make you feel good soon, so soon,’ but his mouth is silent. He’ll have to show you then.

His gaze travels lower, to the heaven of your body, covered by the red petals. He glances up and sees your almost pained expression. Oh how you want his fat cock! ‘I’ll give it to you good, baby, don’t you worry. Spread your legs for me.’ His wordless wish is your command and your legs part oh so slowly, while he’s holding his breath in anticipation.

In front of his lustful eyes, your pussy blooms for him, still mostly hidden by the flowers.

‘Let me see’, he wishes, “Let me in.”

He carefully picks one petal off your mound and throws it away. You pleasantly surprise him when you lift your legs, and holding your knees with your hands, open your thighs wide for him.

‘Good girl,’ he thinks.

In a second his mouth is hovering over your pussy, and the sweet scent of your arousal makes his head spin. He darts his tongue out and presses it to the petal on the crease of your thigh. It sticks and he glides his tongue over it, before taking it out of his mouth with his fingers.

He does the same with another petal, which rests right on your clit. You moan when his hot tongue grazes your bud.

He picks the petals one after another with his mouth, lips, tongue, slowly and deliberately, almost edging you and himself in the process but he can’t help it. He wants to prolong this pleasant moment.

When all the petals are gone, his eyes feast on the sight of your bare cunt in front of him, glistening, crying for his attention. He lowers his face and his mouth latches onto your waiting pussy. The taste, the feel of you make his whole body tremble, his cock aches, desperate to be touched, and the sensation is so strong, he immediately wakes up.

He’s panting heavily, eyes darting around the dark room, his mind slowly coming back to reality.

The TV is still on, illuminating his surroundings, and he sees a wet spot on his jeans. His bulge is huge and his cock is pulsating under the confines of the clothes. He needs to jerk off.

Joel listens to the sounds upstairs but hears nothing. You and Sarah must be already sleeping. He contemplates turning on porn but stops himself. He can just remember what he saw a few seconds ago. It was so fucking hot and looked real.

So he unzips his jeans and pulls his throbbing cock out of his wet boxers. It’s big and hard, ready to explode from the slightest touch.

He holds it at the base, rests his head back against the couch and shuts his eyes. The image of you splayed naked, surrounded by roses, comes back to his mind and he begins slowly stroking his cock. He brings back the memory of his mouth on your pussy, him sucking, licking your soaked hole, gathering your arousal with the tip of his tongue and drinking your juices.

Joel is close and he wants to come inside you. If only in his fantasy. He forms his thumb and index finger into a small circle and brings them to the tip of his cock. Imitating your tight pussy, he slowly pushes the head through the opening between his fingers and moans your name, followed by “Oh, baby.”

“Mr Miller?”

Joel’s heart plummets into his stomach when he hears your soft voice, coming from the hall. To his horror, he sees you standing in the doorway. He’s not sure if you saw him or what he was doing at that angle, but his heart is pounding in his chest. He roughly tucks his hard cock back into the jeans, hissing in pain, grabs his plaid shirt off the side of the couch and covers his tent.

“ ‘s late. Go to bed, sweetheart,” he throws in your direction, almost out of the room, but your hand on his biceps stops him in his tracks.

“Mr Miller?”

His head whips your way,

“If ya need anythin’, just ask Sarah. I’m headin’ to bed.” He takes a step out and you say,

“Don’t I get to enjoy it?”

He freezes and looks back at you.

“Enjoy what?”

“That,” you point at his crotch with your chin, “Your boner. I heard you say my name so… I guess you should thank me for it.”

He gawks at you at first, not believing his own ears, but then his gaze narrows and slides from your face down your body. It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time just now.

A smirk tugs at his lips.

“Oh, you’re a slut?”

It comes out as half a question-half a statement and you reply with a smile, “I wouldn’t put it like that, Mr Miller.”

He turns to you, dropping his hands, not hiding his huge tent anymore, and you stare at it shamelessly, biting your lip at the sight.

“And how would you put it? Cos ya surely sound like one,” he says, coming up close to you. His eyes slide up and down your body, taking in your hardened nipples under a soft tee, tiny sleeping shorts, barely covering anything. Your big doe eyes are staring up at him as you purr,

“I just take what I want. Whoever I want.”

“Yeah, that’s a slut. Maybe I don’t like sluts,” he growls, taking a step and caging you against the doorframe. He doesn’t touch you but the arousal oozing from the both of you electrifies the air.

“Your hard-on says otherwise,” you retort and he takes a sharp breath. “Let me help you with it, Mr Miller.”

You say his name in a sultry voice, and a shiver goes down his spine. Fuck, he needs to come soon or he’ll bust a load in his pants.

Joel shifts his jaw in thought, staring at you. You lick your lower lip, looking crazy hot, and the decision is made. By his head or his cock, doesn’t matter.. .You gave him this raging boner so you’ll have to deal with it now. Morals be damned.

Joel walks to the couch and plops down with a grunt. He manspreads and you come up to him.

“I ain’t fuckin’ you, girl,” he grunts, looking up at you from under his brows. Faking a shy smile, you kneel between his legs on the floor. The sight of you standing on your knees, so obedient to him, makes his cock leak precum.

“Can I suck your cock, daddy?”

“Fuck no, no daddies,” he growls, furrowing his brows at you.

You pout your lips in thought, scratching his jean-clad thighs with your nails.

“Mr Miller?”

He smiles. “Much better.”

“Sir?”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” his cock practically vibrates when you call him that.

“Mr Miller it is then,” you smirk and unzip his jeans.

He lets you pull down his jeans and boxers to his mid thigh while he’s watching you, his big arm resting on the headrest of the couch, the other hand on his naked thigh.

The moment your fingers touch his stiff length, Joel curses and starts breathing heavily. He tries to keep his cool, but it’s almost impossible.

Your hand wraps around the base of his cock, that is standing at attention, red angry tip glistening with precum.

“Wow,” you breathe out, and he notices a trace of fear in your expression.

“ ‘s right. Think twice before you take on the task, baby.”

Baby. That word does something to you, he sees it. You squirm between his legs, blown eyes set on his twitching cock.

You take a deep breath, collecting yourself, and lower your head. All his muscles tense up as he anticipates the feeling of your warm mouth on his cock, but you freeze midway and glance up at him, beautiful eyes glinting in the darkness of the room.

“Was I a good girl in your fantasy?”

He bucks his hips in need and replies, “Very good girl.”

His tormenting mind brings back the images of you in the sea of red roses and a clear drop of precum beads on his slit.

You smile and murmur, “Let’s see if I can do better than her.”

With that, you lick off the arousal of his fat head and he moans at the sensation.

You start taking him in slowly but confidently, pressing your hot tongue to the underside of his shaft. Your hand is cupping his heavy balls, gently massaging them. You’re already drooling around him and he thinks, that’s what heaven feels like.

“What a nice sloppy mouth you’ve got there, little slut.”

His harsh praise makes you moan around his cock. You start bobbing your head, your mouth moving up and down his length rhythmically. Joel shuts his eyes, as the image of you working his cock adds to the ecstasy and pushes him towards the edge faster and faster. He can’t come so soon. He wants himself forever buried in your sloppy warm mouth. Or in your tight wet cunt. Fuck, why is he doing it to himself?

His balls get tight and move in your palm, and your mouth leaves his cock.

“Don’t come yet. I want it on my pussy.”

“I said I ain’t fucking ya,” Joel growls, clenching his teeth.

“I said on my pussy,” you roll your eyes and add, “Think of a dead dog or something.”

You fucking wink at him and get back to sucking his poor cock.

Your lips and tongue are massaging every inch of his length and Joel closes his eyes again, hastily trying to find something in his mind that can stop him from squirting his hot cum down your throat.

His truck needs an oil change, yeah, he’ll deal with it tomorrow. It helps for a second but then he pictures you all oiled up and glistening. This very moment your face nuzzles his lower belly as you take him so deep in your throat, he feels you swallowing around him.

Joel opens his eyes and sees tears roll down your cheeks, your lips wrapped around the base of his member, your eyes empty and full of lust.

He quickly grabs you by the hair and pulls you off his cock, trying not to hurt you. You whine and he hisses,

“Shit…gonna come.”

“On my pussy, please, please!”

Joel groans and grabs you by the arm, lifting you on your feet. He tosses you on the couch, takes off your shorts and snarls, “ ‘course, no panties, little slut.”

He kneels between your legs, his hand braced on the headrest, the other wrapped around his ready-to explode cock.

“Show me your kitty, baby.”

“Oh, so is it ‘slut’ or ‘baby’, Mr Miller?” You purr, pouting your lips, but spread your thighs nonetheless.

“Right now you’re a fuckin’ brat,” he snaps and you smile, pulling your knees to your chest, just like in his dream. You lift your shirt, offering your breasts for his view as your hand darts to your pussy to spread your folds with your fingers, so he could paint every inch of you.

He points the tip at your soaked cunt, pumps his cock once, twice and the first jet of his cum shoots and lands right on your clit. You whimper into the back of your hand and your fingers get to work, swirling your bud, using his cum as lube. Joel doesn’t tear his eyes off the sight, milking his pulsating cock and giving you more, more, coating your pussy with a thick layer of his creamy load.

You’re wriggling under him, your nipples hard, belly heaving and when one more squirt hits your clit, you come, silently screaming and squeezing your eyes shut in euphoria. Joel sees your hole clench around nothing, and regrets not fucking your little pussy.

He’s panting, hovering over you, drinking you in and trying to memorize every little detail for his spank bank, while waves of pleasure hit you again and again, your body shaking and trembling.

“Oh, sir,” you whimper and he smiles triumphantly.

When your climax subsides, Joel goes to the bathroom. As he’s soaking a towel with warm water, he stares at himself in the mirror. His hair is tousled, face flushed. The realization of what he’s just done slowly sinks in and he curses at the reflection, “Fuckin’ dumbass.”

He returns and hands you the towel. You sit up and start wiping his cum off.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell Sarah. Or anyone else,” you say, looking up at him.

Joel nods, and his hand darts to touch your face but he stops himself. You get up and grab your soaked shorts off the floor before turning to him.

“How about we watch a movie tomorrow, Mr Miller?” You ask, coming up to him with a gorgeous smile on your lips that makes him blush. “Same time, just you and me?”

Joel’s looking into your eyes, fruitlessly trying to hide his infatuation with you, and his hand rises to your face. He gently brushes your lower lip with his thumb and mumbles bitterly, “Think I know what movie to pick.”

Your face lights up and you purr with a wink, “Can’t wait to not watch it with you. Sweet dreams, daddy.”

Joel grunts disapprovingly and slaps your naked ass, when you turn to leave. You gasp, looking back at him, and bite your lip.

Before going upstairs, you give him a charming smile and he takes a deep breath.

Yeah, he’s fucked.

*****

Thank you for reading!🌹

Please consider commenting and reblogging if you enjoyed the fic!♥️

Pt 2 PLEASE, SIR || Masterlist

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queen-of-the-avengers · 13 days ago

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Wrapped Around Your Finger

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.1k

Warnings: fluff, arm wrestling

Summary: Tony instigates an arm wrestling contest with Bucky, and no one can beat him until you step up to the plate. The thing is, he’s a superhuman and you’re just a regular person. Something isn’t adding up here.

Squares Filled: thor (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

Tony never fails to throw a legendary party. You’ve never been invited to one until you were drafted into the team. You’re not a superhuman, you don’t have powers, and you can easily be killed in a fight. However, you do have amazing hacking skills that have been useful for the team over the past year. You can remotely get into any account, jump over any firewall, and hack into any system with your equipment from your office.

You don’t even have to leave the compound to help.

To be surrounded by such powerful people is a bit overwhelming, but you try not to show how much it’s affecting you. Alcohol always calms you down so you immediately head to the bar. Sam laughs from the right of you, and you see he’s talking to Steve and Bucky over by the pool table. Ah, Bucky Barnes. The Winter Soldier. The hottest man at the party. The hottest man in any room. To look more casual, Bucky sports a backward hat and a thin t-shirt that accentuates his muscles. No one here is scared of him so he’s not shy about hiding his metal arm.

You often fantasize about what his arm could really do to someone like you.

“You should go over and talk to him.” You jump at Natasha’s voice, and you look to see her and Wanda standing next to you. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.”

“What are you talking about? I’m not staring at him.”

“We never said you were,” Wanda smirks.

“You definitely were, though.”

“Oh, yeah, totally.”

“Okay, stop. I’m not crushing on Bucky.”

“It’s okay if you are. He’s hot.”

“Why don’t you talk to him if you think he’s so hot?” you grumble.

“Not my type,” Nat answers. “I’m already a deadly assassin. I don’t need another one in my life.”

“Why don’t I go over to him and tell him how much you love him?” Wanda suggests with a smirk.

“Don’t you dare, Maximoff.”

Both women laugh, and Natasha slaps a hand on your shoulder.

“Lighten up. Have another drink.” Natasha orders you another drink and you take it gratefully. “Seriously, though, you should go for it. You clearly don’t see the looks he gives you when you’re not paying attention. He’s whipped for you. You could ask him for anything and he’d give it to you.”

“I’m nothing compared to him. He’s a super soldier. I’m just a weak human. He’s not into me.”

Nat and Wanda look at each other, and both of them shrug. “You’ll get there eventually.”

With alcohol in your system, you’re more social with everyone but Bucky. You’d have to get seriously fucked up to talk to Bucky. He makes you so nervous and you don’t want to do anything to embarrass yourself.

By the time ten rolls around, most of the people have left the party so only the Avengers are left. This group is more chilled than the previous one because no one is trying to impress someone. Only the elite have been invited to the party, and they were starstruck in the eyes of the Avengers. Everyone here knows what everyone can do so it’s more laid back and chill.

“Be honest with me,” Tony says to Bucky. “How much can you bench with that thing?”

“I don’t know,” Bucky chuckles. “I never tested it.”

“I bet I could take you.”

“Excuse me?”

“In an arm wrestling contest. Get your mind out of the gutter. I don’t run that way.”

Tony is drunk otherwise he wouldn’t be saying this, but Bucky finds amusement in it. Tony is persistent which is how you got here. Everyone wants a piece of Bucky’s metal arm to see if they can beat him. Knowing he can’t do it by himself, Tony grabs one of his Iron Man suit arms to give him that extra boost.

Tony fails, and Bucky doesn’t even look like he broke out in a sweat.

Rhodey tries and fails. Natasha and Clint know better than to take on a vibranium arm without powers. Bruce is scared he’ll turn into the Hulk if he strains himself too much. Wanda doesn’t compete because she’ll probably win with her magic, and she’s curious as to how this is going to end. Steve steps up to the plate and grabs Bucky’s metal hand confidently. The only person who thinks he might actually have a shot. Both men start the match, and Steve looks like he is going to win when Bucky gets a second wind and slams Steve’s hand on the desk.

The only person who can beat Bucky without any issue is Thor, but he’s on Asgard right now so he’s out of the running.

“Who’s next?” Bucky asks confidently.

“You’re so sure he’s whipped for me?” you whisper to Nat and Wanda. “There’s a way to tell if he is or not.”

“How?”

“He’ll let me win.” You step up to the table and take off your jacket. “I can do it.”

“You’re not doing it, Doll,” Bucky chuckles. “You’re going to get hurt.”

“What, are you chicken?” You look at everyone. “Hear that everyone? Bucky’s scared to go up against a girl.”

“Fine.” You turn to Bucky. “It’s your health. I won’t be the one who will end up with a broken arm.”

Bucky changes hands and grabs your hand with his flesh one.

“Why not your other hand?”

“I’m not using my metal arm on someone who doesn’t have any powers. It won’t be a fair fight.”

He has a point. You position yourself and look at Steve who taps the desk. You and Bucky immediately start to wrestle, and you’re using every bit of strength you have. Bucky has to admit, you’re strong for a woman of your stature but it’s not enough to beat him. However, the look of concentration and determination you have is too cute to diminish.

He pulls his strength back and lets you slam his hand to the desk.

You jump back and cheer for your victory, and he can’t help but smile. Everyone knows he let you win but you don’t care. You’re the only one who has been able to beat him whether or not it was a pity win. You join Nat and Wanda’s side with a huge smile on your face, and Steve and Sam approach Bucky with knowing looks on theirs.

“You let her win,” Steve says.

“You’re whipped, man,” Sam laughs.

“Yeah, I did, but look how happy she is.”

“You know he let you win, right?” Natasha whispers to you.

“Yeah, but that proves one thing. I have that man wrapped around my finger. He’s into me,” you beam.

“Finally, you see it,” Wanda laughs.

You look back at Bucky to see him already looking at you, and you smile right back.

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slushycoookie · 4 months ago

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Between Two Worlds ~ Loser!Miguel O'Hara x Stripper! Reader

��Word Count: 4k ★Content: Reader is Fem!/chubby, I also made them more black-coded (I usually do with all my readers but it's much more prominent here), Miguel gets a lap dance AND a hand job on the same night, Tyler and Dana shows up (ugh), but so does Gabriel (yay!) ★A/N: The demons won, idk what to say. Dividers by @/rookthornesartistry Next ✩°｡⋆˚⁺ Masterlist | Commissions

Miguel stops by to see you again.

He wanted to explain himself to you. The way he ran off a few days ago after you laid a finger on him, hearing everyone else laugh at his shyness wasn’t how he wanted that to go. How watching you spin around the pole changed his life. Especially after a couple of rough days. Well, rough weeks. His job hounding him for constant updates on a major project he was working on. And the fact that he lost his fiancé to another man.

He thought going to The Weave, one of the hottest clubs in Nueva York, would help a lot. Only for him to see you, the most beautiful person in the world. But he didn't need to explain all of that to you. The most he could do as an acceptable form of apology was to give you your money. After witnessing your amazing dancing.

Miguel asks one of the bartenders if he could talk to you alone but gets pushback. From the owner, Jessica, the only way to get you alone with him during club hours is to request a private VIP room. To talk or do other things. He begrudgingly settled for a simple lap dance, knowing he was going to leave as soon as he gave you the money.

Miguel’s resolve starts to falter at the idea of being alone with you like that. He heard his heart in his ears as he stood alone in the empty room. It wasn’t even that small, a comfortable size for endeavors such as these. The music booming across the walls matched the beat of his heart. Miguel rehearsed in his head what to say to you a bunch of times, only to come crashing down when you walked in.

The same sweet scent as before hits his nostrils. Your outfit was different this time, of course, it would be. A matching sparkly, purple bikini set. You must really like to shine. And be tall as he noticed you walking easily in platform heels. But you didn’t match his height.

“Hi.”

Miguel wipes his sweaty palms on his pants to give you a handshake, “Hello.”

Your gaze hits the outstretched arm, not expecting that. He still has some manners. So you take it, a pretty smile across your face.

“You requested a dance from me?”

“Yes! Wait, uh no not exactly.” Before you get confused, he pulls out the large stack of money he was supposed to throw the other night. Around five hundred dollars. “I-I wanted to give you this.”

Your eyes widened at the stack of cash, “For what?”

“Your dance. I didn’t throw any money.” He feels himself blush once more, “I was too… enraptured with your dance. I'm sorry.” Miguel extends out the money and you hesitate for a moment before taking the cash, settling it on the table for now.

“Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” He shoots you a shy smile before maneuvering towards the exit.

“You don't want the dance?”

Miguel quickly shakes his head, “No, no I just wanted to give you the money. I didn’t have any cruel intentions.”

You laugh and his heart squeezes with pain. Once again, he's become a joke to you.

“Honey,” You place a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Requesting a lap dance isn't cruel. We have about thirty minutes in here, it'd be a shame to let it go to waste.”

He nods, the idea making sense. “Only if you're comfortable with that.”

“I should be saying that to you.”

A gentle hand rubs his arm for comfort and he sits on one of the black leather chairs. His hands gripping the arms of the seat, trying to calm his nerves. You fiddle with the remote and turn on music to match the mood. A slow, sensual song sets the atmosphere. The simple action of flipping your curly hair, the strands gracefully covering your shoulders causes him to get hard.

Miguel swallows, tugging at his shirt collar. You strut towards him and he feels like he's seeing you better the second time. How your thigh slightly jiggles from your walk to your breasts almost pouring out from your top. He tries not to stare when you spin around in front of him, letting him get a good look at you.

You lean over and cup his face, he tries not to lean into your touch but closes his eyes. Your soft, manicured hands trailing down to his neck, down to his blazer.

“Do you wanna take this off?”

He opens his eyes and sees you not too far from his face. Your dazzling makeup highlights your wonderful eyes, while you’re tugging at his clothes. “Can I?”

“Of course, babe.” You help him remove the jacket, gently placing it on the other chair instead of tossing it. “Does that feel better?”

“Yes.”

Once again, you shoot him a fine smile and he wonders if you could see him sweating. You don't say anything as you continue, taking off his glasses, and setting them on the table. Miguel blinks a few times to get used to the slightly blurry vision. His eyesight becomes clear when your full ass comes into view -slowly sliding back against his thighs, up to his growing erection. The grip on the chair arms gets tighter as he restrains himself from touching you. Even when you do it again, rolling your lower body, putting him in a trance.

He tries not to jump when your hands rest on top of his, sliding up to his forearms and back down to his knuckles. You squat, gyrating your entire body, hair swishing amid the quiet air before you slowly stand back up. He sits still as he's afraid to make any movements.

You straddle him, placing your thumb and index finger on his chin for him to have his eyes on you. And he does, not looking away when you lean back, showing off your perfect body. Your hips roll in tandem with the music, so fluid like water. Your clothed cunt brushed against his painfully obvious bulge. You hardly break a sweat, your makeup still as fresh as it was when you walked in.

Miguel feels cum leaking out his tip, unsure if he should end the session short. So he can fuck his hand and imagine it was you. He whimpers, wanting to show you what you were doing to him. You seem to notice as you grin during the dance. Leaning forward, hands tracing his chest, feeling what a built man he is underneath that white buttoned-down shirt.

“You want a hand job?”

He almost chokes on his saliva, “W-What?”

“You heard me.” You don’t stop while speaking, playfully unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m good at them. And you seem like you want one.” His eyes dart down to the bulge in his pants, face getting hot.

“I-I…” Miguel wasn’t sure the type of person he’d be if he said yes. Especially when he barely knows you. But you offered and he's a man of decent manners. Plus, he wasn’t looking forward to coating his hand with his cum tonight. “I would like that.”

You take your time reaching for his cock. Your purple acrylic nails, scrapped along his chest, down to his abdomen. He tries to slow down his breathing when you reach his belt, carefully undoing it. Unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his zipper. It doesn’t take much for you to pull him out of his boxers. And your eyes grow wide at the sight of him.

Cock hard, veins running along his shaft, pre cum leaking from his tip. He tries to look anywhere else but you don’t let him when you grab his chin. Face close to his.

“Don’t get all shy on me now.”

“I’m not…” He proves it when you let go, eyes on you.

“You’re a big boy.” You still look at his cock, fascinated at the sight of him. Miguel doesn’t say anything, unsure how to respond to that. “I’ll take care of you.” You spit in your hand before touching him.

He tries not to orgasm right then and there. More cum leaks out, helping with the lubrication as you slide down his shaft. Your touch is better than anything else he’s had. He groans when you come back up to his tip, swirling your thumb around it. All while your eyes remain on him, not watching yourself and seeing what you’re doing.

“You like that?”

Miguel shudders as you stroke him, “Y-Yes.”

He still doesn’t touch you. He doesn’t buck his hips up into you. He allows you full control. A gorgeous person like yourself, messing with someone like him. He didn’t know how it came to this and he didn’t want to think about that.

You go faster, a tighter hold on his shaft. Miguel inadvertently spreads his legs wider, louder groans escaping his lips. He’s trapped between your voluptuous body and the fragrant scent he desperately wants to be full of. His lips parted with a plea to taste you, but that would be selfish.

“You want a kiss?” You whisper, nose pressed against his nose, lips hovering above his own.

He doesn’t trust his voice when he nods immediately. You kiss him, swallowing his eager noises. A part of him starts to slip when he grips the back of your neck. Your lips part and he slips his tongue inside, whining at your taste. He bucks his hips up into your hand, feeling that familiar sensation in his stomach. The music is blocked from his ears as he hears your moans, showing you’re also enjoying it. And that makes him happy. So happy that you’re enjoying what you’re doing to him.

To the point where he climaxes.

It was sudden when he moans between your lips, body stilling as his cum coats your hand, staining his pants. You pump him as much as you can, placing small kisses over his face while he comes down from his high. When you stand, he remembers your cum covered hand and points to his jacket.

“I have something you can use…” You dig into his jacket, using the non-cum covered hand. Miguel’s heart flipped at the small gesture. You pull out his pocket square, brows furrowed.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I can wash it later.”

You wipe your hand off, saving some room for him to wipe off any mess he made. For once, he was glad he didn’t cum so much this time. As he grabs his things and puts on his glasses, you start making your way to the exit, five hundred in hand. “Hope you enjoyed yourself.”

“W-Wait.” He quickly goes up to you, pulling out his wallet for any cash he’s had on hand. It was only a hundred, but he hoped it was enough.

“That’s nice of you.” You say while taking the hundred, “I was okay with the five you gave me.”

“I can give you more if you want.” He sees his card and wonders if there’s an ATM nearby he could use. Would another five hundred be enough? Maybe he should shoot for a thousand.

“No, no. Don’t spend all your money on me.” You push the wallet close to his chest, “You gotta eat dinner, you know?”

Miguel lets out a light chuckle, “Right…”

“What’s your name?”

“Miguel.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Miguel.” He loves how his name sounds across your lips. “Come back soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

He doesn't stop thinking about you when he's home. You fill up his mind as he eats dinner, takes a shower, and lie in bed. An extraordinary person like yourself looks his way, even if it is mandatory. Miguel hasn’t felt this way since he met Dana, his ex-fiancé. Before, she was all he could think about and get lost in. Now, he had you.

His coworkers told him not to fall in love with the dancers. Albeit, they said it jokingly but now he was screwed. This wasn’t even a good time, Dana still had some of her clothes at his place. The break-up was still fresh. Miguel tried to push it out of his mind by focusing on work and strengthening his relationship with his family. But some days were bad. Like he didn’t think if he was worthy of love again.

Miguel was afraid of others thinking you were a rebound and he was seeing it himself. That wasn't the case in his mind. Maybe he should set an arrangement? Otherwise, he’d come and see you every day if he can. And while he wasn’t low on funds, he didn’t want to get that way.

So he started with having you fill his thoughts.

At work, he was in a much better mood. Splicing genes and dealing with DNA, regular geneticist things. He was even for talking to his coworkers, who finally asked about his strip club experience.

“Who did you go see?” Miguel’s colleague, Aaron, asked while handing him a cup of coffee.

“Silk. I liked her dance.”

“Oh, so you got a personal lap dance from her?” He nods, not wanting to go into detail on his experience with you. That was for him and him alone. “Man, lemme tell you, the perfect woman right there. That rack alone? Top tier breasts.”

Miguel shook his head, “She’s more than just her body.”

“Says the man who went in there to see a woman’s body.”

“Right, I’m the problem here.” He bit his tongue, deciding that was enough conversation for the day. Miguel excused himself from the break room, aiming to finish up work in his lab. He tried not to let his coworker's comments sour his mood, but something else sideswiped him.

Tyler called Miguel into his office. And he was not looking forward to that.

He saw the reason when Dana was on Tyler’s lap, laughing and joking around. Her face close to his, almost whispering about something he didn’t catch.

“Miguel!” Dana noticed him first and tried to stand but Tyler stopped her, sitting her back down—a possessive arm around her.

“Don’t go, my dear. You just got comfortable.”

She wanted to object to the fact her husband-to-be was in the office but Miguel stepped forward, “It's fine. You wanted to see me, sir?”

Or he should say father, with venom laced through his words. That would've caused a scene.

“Yes, I wanted to ask about the spider DNA and how that's going?”

Miguel clenched his jaw, knowing full well this could've been done through a phone call. “It's going fine. Still have hundreds of DNA to go through.”

“Hundreds? You’ve been having a slow work ethic these past couple of weeks.” Tyler's brows furrowed, “I wonder why.”

��You know why.’

“It's nothing, sir. I promise you, I'll catch up.”

“You better. I need something to give these shareholders at the end of the quarter.”

Miguel nods, motioning to the door, “May I go now?”

“Sure, sure.” Tyler allows, not before letting Miguel see him pull Dana close to him, showing what he stole.

The day was now ruined. Even thoughts of you weren't enough to get him back to his happy state. He needed to see you again, and go over the arrangement he wanted to set. But he's already been there for three days this week. And he didn’t want anyone to get suspicious of his constant presence.

Luckily, Gabriel called him after work.

“Mig! I'm hungry!”

He held in a sigh, “You know where to get food, Gabri.”

“Duh, this was an invitation to go out with Kasey and me. Have dinner with us?”

Miguel glanced at the clock in his apartment, “Fine. Where?”

“I'll text you the place.”

It resulted in him being a third wheel to his brother and girlfriend. The Italian restaurant they picked was low-key as Miguel stared out the window to ignore Gabriel and Kasey's banter. Wishing he was somewhere else.

“Soooo,” Gabriel leaned forward, capturing his brother's attention, “How have you been?”

Miguel raised a brow, “I've been okay.”

“Just okay?” He leans closer, almost brushing along the breadsticks.

“Just okay.”

“Oh good.” He leans back, arm draped over his girlfriend, “For a second there, I thought you’d be hung up on Dana.”

“That bitch of a whore.” Kasey added, nibbling on a breadstick.

“Exactly.”

“Don’t call her that.” Miguel says, no matter how right Kasey was. “She chose not to be with me anymore, I can respect that.”

“By cheating on you with your boss.” Gabriel reminds him as if the entire ordeal was still fresh. The pain, the heartbreak, the constant thoughts of Miguel wondering what he did wrong in the relationship and how it came to this.

“Tyler…was a better option for her.” It was all he could say before intentionally propping up his menu to get a good look at what he was ordering. He didn’t want to go back and forth with his brother. He’s already done that enough with one too many people. Once they ordered, Miguel couldn’t hide behind his menu anymore, so he thought to bring up something else. “I’ve already met someone else.”

“And proceeded to not tell your little brother?” Gabriel clutches his chest in dramatics, “Does Mami know?”

“What do you think?” Miguel gave him a look, which his brother reciprocated when Kasey took over.

“Okay, who are they? Spill.”

“I’d…rather not.”

“What? Why not?”

“I’m feeling it out. I want to make sure it’s not a rebound because of what happened with Dana.” As much as he wanted to boast about you, there was still the problem that he barely knew you. He couldn’t let anyone know about you until he does.

“Fair.”

“Are they cute at least?” Gabriel earned a smack on the head from her, “What? I’m just asking!”

“He’ll talk about them when he wants to talk about them.”

“Alright, alright.” Miguel’s lips curled upwards with amusement at the two. “Keep me updated, okay?”

“I will.”

Miguel comes back to The Weave with a mission. He stands in line, waiting to be admitted with the others, rehearsing what he wants to propose to you. The head of security, which Miguel finds out his name is Noir, pats him down after collecting the thirty-dollar admissions fee.

“Have fun, Mr. Science Guy.”

Miguel walks in, getting used to the bright flashing lights inside the club. A few dancers are already on stage, getting covered with money. He doesn't see you though. So he goes to the bar to ask for you. And be graced by the owner herself.

“Oooh the nerdy guy came back.” She teases, handing customers shots of tequila. Her outfit is slightly more modest compared to her employees. A red, leather bodysuit paired with a matching jacket and black boots that went to her thighs. He glanced down at her exposed cleavage before he looked at her eyes, “This is your third time being here, so you must got some money.”

Miguel snorts, “Are you counting?”

“Hell yeah. You pay well, gotta make sure it stays that way.” She offers him a shot but he declines, going back to the task at hand.

“Is she here?”

“Now, you know I need a name.” Jessica peers through her yellow-coated shades.

“Silk.” He swallows, “I want to talk to her for a bit.”

“Sure. ‘Talk’.” She emphasizes before stepping out from behind the bar, calling in some blonde guy named Ben to take over. “She's on her break but I'll give you a bit to speak to her.”

Miguel follows Jess to the back of the place. Maneuvering past half-drunk people, not trying to step on the money that was thrown all over the place, while keeping his eyes straight ahead at the multiple lap dances and pole dancing he came across. She led him down a series of steps, the loud, thumping music fading away.

“Guess who's baaaack?” Jess sings as she leads him to the dressing room. A large room filled with bright lights, plenty of locker rooms and mirrors, and an area in the corner which he assumed was the bathroom. Momentarily, he saw you leaning against the table, slowly munching away on a cookie. Eyes unfocused but coming back to reality when they stepped into the room.

“Hey, Miguel.”

“Ooh, so yall are on a first-name basis already?” You shake your head as Miguel seals his lips. Jess grins, not wanting to tease any further. “He wanted to talk to you. So you got ten minutes before I need you back out there.”

You shoot her an ok sign when Miguel says, “Thank you.”

“Mmhm.”

As Jess walks out of the room, he sees your outfit. Your body is in full view through the long, sheer black outfit, exposing your legs. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Thanks.” You give him a brief smile, “So what brings you here? Want another hand job?”

“Ah no, thank you.”

“Aww, you didn’t like the last one? I’ll admit it was a bit impromptu, I didn’t have my lube on me.” You explain. Miguel figures you must give a lot of hand jobs.

“No, I enjoyed it. Very much so.” He admits, ducking his head, the linoleum floor looking a lot nicer right now. “I wanted to see if we could come up with an arrangement.”

“An arrangement?”

“Yes. A certain day when I can see you and only you.” He continues, “All of these other ladies are nice but I only want you.”

“I'm flattered.” You tap on the table to get him to sit beside you and he does. Taking in the close proximity, “I'm surprised a man like you wants to frequent this place, out of all places.”

“A man like me?” He questions but then understands what you meant, “You mean a scientist?”

“…yeah, sure. Let's go with that.” You pat his shoulder.

“Is it wrong that I want to do something different? I go to work, go home, see my family, and that's it. Not a way to live.”

“True. But you thought that something different was going to a strip club?”

“Y-Yes.” He rubs the back of his neck while your eyes are filled with questions. But you didn’t ask any. “My ex-fiancé thought I was boring. And maybe I am, but I wanted to prove it.”

“Ah, so this is for getting back at your ex, got it.”

Miguel feels a shift from you after saying that and he goes to correct himself, “No wait, I'm not using you, don't think that way. I just wanted something new to my routine.”

“Then what does this arrangement entail?” You ask, hands on your hips. “Because a lot of people come to the club to see ass, tiddies, and pussy. Then go about their business. It looks like you're asking for more than that.”

This conversation is going all wrong. Now, it looks like he offended you which wasn't his intention. Miguel wasn’t sure what exactly he said to make you hostile towards him in the first place so he backtracks.

“I just want to see you and talk.”

“While I give you a lap dance or something?” He nods, “You know I'm not a therapist.”

“I know.”

“And you know you're still going to have to pay me.”

“R-Right, of course. I have plenty of money.”

“But don't waste it all on me. You got yourself to take care of.”

“Yes, yes you're absolutely right.”

“Okay.” You sigh, stuffing the rest of the cookie in your mouth before brushing the crumbs off your body. Miguel wished he was the cookie crumb that grazed along your chest, but he bit his lip not to say anything. “I have a headlining dance on Tuesdays but if you want to make sure we have plenty of time together, then Thursdays.”

“Okay.”

Time was up and you had to go back out on the floor. As you push him out, he stops right by the doorway to the establishment, blocking your path.

“So I'll see you on Tuesday?”

You roll your eyes, “I told you I have a dance on Tuesdays.”

“I know.”

Your lips twitch, unsure if they want to smile or not. “I'll see you then.”

Tag list (lemme know if you guys wanna be tagged): @miguelzslvtz @kitcatcrunch @nina-from-317

@slut4oscarissac23 @anythigbutmiguel @moonlight00sthings @bajbr @freehentai

@chubbybyunnie @ilikeowlsidkwhy @questionable-behaviour @imamexican @tatatida

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o hara x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel x reader #x black reader #x chubby reader #slushycoookie writes

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princessbrunette · 5 months ago

Text

you remembered the first time you laid eyes on jj maybank.

a shitty admin job was the best you could score from your father, the sheriff — something light you could add to your resumé, whilst doing minimal work. you didn’t anticipate working in the local jail to be as boring as it was, despite knowing you were going into a job that consisted solely of checking people in and out and punching names into a computer. you tried to make it as fun as possible, showing up in your cutest miniskirts, fluffiest jackets, daintiest mary-jane heels, but there was never anyone interesting coming in and out the cells, only drunks being thrown into the tank after one too many.

that was until jj came along.

it was like everything moved in slow motion the first time he got brought in. your father had the blondes wrists clipped behind his back, shoving him along the hallways. it was the first young person you’d gotten in weeks, your shoulder finding the door frame as you stare, watching in intrigue. whatever jj had done to get himself wound up in a cell, he didn’t seem remotely sorry about it. the smirk on his face was worn proudly as a medal, even whilst being shoved along by the sheriff he had this swagger to each step. you didn’t even realise you were staring, dressed in all your girly glory until he locked eyes with you.

his smirk spread on his face. jj knew who you were, but that was to no surprise — everyone did. the sheriffs daughter. a title you wore not so proudly, as all it did was get you labelled as a narc by association in high school and barred from any party where drinking or smoking could potentially be occurring. jj’s eyes drag down you, and then back to your eyes, even turning his head to hold the eye contact as he got shoved into a cell.

your father followed his gaze before grabbing a fistful of his white tshirt to hold him straight. “and quit eye balling my daughter, would you?”

he holds your gaze with that amused grin for a moment longer before blinking down at the shorter man. “thats my bad, sheriff.” he drawls in that lazy southern accent of his. you had to have him.

it was over from that point on. you’d seek him out, tired of being associated with your fathers profession and wanting to have some fun for once. jj was more than happy to oblige, infact he couldn’t believe his luck. there was a thrill to the two of you being out in the open together, something in the two of you wanting to be caught �� just to see what would happen. you’d even go as far as to makeout against your car right outside the station after you’d finished a shift, jj all but shoving his tongue down your open mouth as his hands grope you all over for other officers to see and relay to shoupe.

jj frequently returned to his temporary cell with all the trouble he’d get in — your glossed lips turning upwards elatedly at the sight of his cuffed form trudging its way through the hall like routine. you’d even gotten to the point of ignoring your father and running to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “oh jayj what’d you get yourself into this time?” you whine, only for him to chuckle it off with the same joke he made each time.

“maybe i just wanted to see you, babydoll.”

by which at this point, your father had yanked you off the boy, sending you away. “go do your work, don’t lemme tell you again.”

of course it drove a wedge between you and your father. but he deserved it! he ruined your social life growing up by shutting down parties and arresting your peers, the least you could do was date one of his hottest cell-regulars. every gaze across the waiting room as maybank checks out was met with your father appearing seemingly from nowhere to ask “you really think it’s gonna work out with a kid like that? don’t come cryin’ to me when you get hurt. i warned ‘ya.” to which you’d roll your eyes and walk away. jj would never hurt you, not unless you asked him to.

he was always desperate to get his hands on you in other ways during your alone time, crowding you from behind at the sketchy bar he’d brought you to and wrapping his arms round your waist.

“your daddy’s gon’ be real mad at me for bringing his sweet little daughter to a joint like this.” he jokes, pressing kisses to the sweet spot behind your ear as you lose interest in attempting to attract the bartenders attention.

“he’s not the boss of me.” you sigh, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his hands and mouth on you. you hear him chuckle, craning round to look at you from the side.

“nah? all grown up now, huh.” he comments, making a weak giggle leave you as you press your ass further into his crotch. “guess someone’s gotta step up then, right? maybe next time i’ll be the one puttin’ you in cuffs. bet you’d like that.” his coarse hands slide down your arms to your wrists before binding them with his hands behind your back, continuing to attack your jaw and neck with little kisses.

“you can do whatever you like to me, jj.” you admit sweetly, and he responds with a kiss to your cheek.

“i know. it’s my favourite thing about ‘ya.”

#jj maybank prompt #sheriffsdaughter!reader #criminal!jj #?

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misssmeat · 9 months ago

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Any chance of sharing more details about your shock collar training? I love the power disparity they represent; discipline at the push of a button.

Sure! I’m happy to share a bit more about the experience I teased.

It was some years ago, and it was the first night I was meeting and playing with a new partner. Generally I don’t recommend such intensity for a first session with a partner, but I’ll admit that I was young, dumb, and overeager. Nothing bad happened and it was a wonderful experience, but I would do it differently today... just to be safer.

Before any play, he showed me the collar shocking himself and then let me play with the collar and intensities of shocks on my leg and arm.

When I was satisfied and comfortable with the collar, he commanded me to strip for him.

He then bound my hands behind my back before locking the shock collar into place on my neck. The prongs were positioned on the side of my neck, which is usually more sensitive than the front of back.

He added another tie at my elbows, forcing a tight posture that thrust my chest forward. I was commanded to stand and spread my legs hip distance apart while he added a short hobble chain between my ankles.

And then the exercise began.

As I’ve shared before, I love strict power dynamics and protocol. Maybe even more so than the sex itself… and he knew that. He had me walk the length of the room, holding my perfect posture, but keeping my eyes downcast, as an obedient submissive would to not drawn attention to herself. He demanded graceful steps despite the hobble between my legs, no jerks from the bindings or chains, and absolutely no raising my gaze to his face.

He then sat on the sofa with the remote for the collar while I walked back and forth at his command. Every stumble, any time I looked up, or even a moment of less than perfect gait would be corrected with a shock.

As I found confidence in his asks, he would add more challenges. By the end, I was nipple clamped, gagged and had clamps hanging between my legs. Still holding my composure for him, still being corrected by a shock each time I didn’t meet his standards.

I was crying from frustration and pain, but so deep in subspace. Every shock reminded me that I was a plaything, his little pet, existing for his entertainment. And the only way to avoid the electric punishment was to exist as he demanded. I felt myself mold to meet his expectations in real time with the help of the collar. And I loved knowing how powerless I was to lash out, push back, or give attitude of any type.

I could be withering on the ground in pain as a repercussion for my bad behavior, while he barely even had to lift a finger. He would never break a sweat.

All that to say, it’s a treasured memory and one of the hottest things to ever happen to me ever in my whole fucking life.

#ask #happy to share more shock collar experiences if anyone is interested????#I made myself wet writing this lol #shock collars

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pinknipszz · 9 months ago

Text

POUND TOWN!

modern au, 18+, mdni pls

“sukuna,” you click your tongue, arms crossed over your chest as you stare at the tall, pink-haired man standing at your doorstep. he doesn’t look that different since you last saw him, wearing the same loose wife-beater tank top and grey sweatpants. your nose scrunches up when you catch a whiff of him, as if he can’t decide between cheap cologne, weed, or gym sweat. “what are you doing here?”

“got bored,” he deadpans, tilting his head slightly to catch a glimpse of your apartment through the gap, half-expecting a thing or two to look different. you only sigh and shake your head. sukuna has a strange habit of popping up out of nowhere, knocking on your door, stealing some food, and fooling around for a bit before disappearing for months. when you think sukuna is gone for good, he comes back. like a stray cat.

you probably shouldn’t be taking in a stray so easily, especially one with claws, but how were you supposed to know that a simple conversation starter like “you smell like blue razz ice” would plant the seed of a beautiful friendship with the hottest plug in the city? it's a little unconventional but neither of you care. what irks you, though, is his shitty timing. “you can’t be here right now,” you say. “i’m busy with something.”

but instead of apologizing for disturbing your peace like any normal person, sukuna plants a foot against the door and pushes open with full-force. you yelp and jump back quickly before it slams against your face, but the drywall isn’t so lucky. you think you hear a loud crack. “what the hell is your–!” before you could finish, the bastard shoves past you and waltzes in like he owns the place. what a fucking bitch!

you lock the door, grumbling. seems like he hasn’t changed much in personality either. when you follow his trail and catch him digging through your fridge, you can’t bite back the sarcasm. “are you that much of a lousy deadbeat to go through girls’ apartments for food?” sukuna turns to flip you off before resuming his venture.

“i know you have more than fucking vegetables in here,” he scoffs, “where is the— gotcha.”

he pulls out your familiar container for leftovers. you don’t even remember what you cooked. it could’ve been weeks old, but sukuna clearly doesn’t have half the mind to care as he rips off the lid and eats with his free hand. “eugh. you’re disgusting,” rolling your eyes, you leave the kitchen and make your way towards the couch to continue your show. you doubt you’ll even enjoy yourself with him around, but whatever.

you won’t let that guy get to your head. just pretend he isn’t there. it's not that serious. the knots in your shoulders loosen when you lean back against the couch and reach for the remote to adjust the volume until sukuna’s shuffling is reduced to nothing but background noise. and it works for the most part. you don’t know how much time passes, maybe an hour or two, until you almost forget he's even there.

a heavy weight precariously plops beside you. cheap cologne, weed, gym sweat. they overwhelm your senses entirely. “breaking bad? is this some kind of joke? thought you said you were busy,” sukuna throws an arm over your shoulder and pulls you close. he doesn’t budge when you try to shove him away, so you resort to pinching his side instead, earning a sharp yelp from the young man. “obviously i am. and don’t get so full of yourself. you don’t even cook.”

he mutters a few words under his breath, probably something vile and venomous, but you couldn’t care less and revert your attention back to the tv. you've waited this long for the show's season finale, and you'll be damned if you let this bastard distract you. but sukuna thinks more with his dick than his brain, evident in the way that the hand on your shoulder slides down and finds your waist, rubbing small circles and squeezes tight on the meat of your flesh.

the episode continues, but you don’t even know what’s happening anymore. when you decide that it's futile to watch without any knowledge of what happened prior, you sigh inwardly and glance to your side. sukuna isn't even looking at the tv.scrolling through his phone, he looks bored and uninterested, as if there's a million other things he could be doing right now. but he’s here with you, holding you close, which is entirely unbecoming for a man like him.

your heart twinges. no, you scold yourself, not for him. anyone but him. sukuna is a stray cat that takes and takes and takes. a storm that wreaks havoc, leaves chaos and destruction in his wake before disappearing like mist. there’s always an underlying motive with him, one that forces you to pick apart his words and play detective for a mystery not worth divulging.

“relax,” he tuts. but you can’t. not when his hand travels lower down your side, poking and prodding, teasing the waistband of your shorts. and when his fingertips finally melt into unmarred flesh, heat pools deep in your stomach. “sukuna,” comes his only warning. the man of the hour merely flashes a shit-eating grin before he grabs your jaw and presses his mouth to yours.

you taste the earth on his tongue. it’s sweet and smokey and slightly bitter. with a hint of fruit and leftovers from your fridge. strong arms wrap around you properly, holding you close, so close that his heart beats against your own. you kiss him back eagerly. sukuna’s hands move with intent, relearning parts of your body that were forgotten throughout your time apart. when he bites your lips raw, you whimper.

“i know baby, i know,” he hushes in between wet kisses. he pushes until your back hits the cushions underneath. sukuna climbs over and grabs your thighs with two strong hands, cock twitching in his pants at how your flesh spills between his fingers. he positions them over his shoulders and leans down for another a searing kiss. you’re smothered like this, rendered useless under the weight of him and your knees against the sides of your head, pushed far beyond a mating press.

you moan in his mouth when he grinds against you. “i know how much you miss me, miss my cock,” sukuna snarls out, jaw clenching with impatience as he tears through your shorts. the cold air slams against your cunt like a sledgehammer. the ceiling spins overhead. “i’m here, i’ll take care of you.” it’s a salacious promise that he seals with a tender kiss against your temple. you’re writhing, slurring his name as you blink blearily through the blood rushing to your head. he makes a show of pulling himself out of his pants.

sukuna runs a thumb over your folds before smearing the lewd concoction of slick and precum with the tip of his cock. the sight of your sopping hole is obscene, no doubt about it, but that hardly matters now. “put it in already,” you whine with tears collecting in your lashes, the position too taxing for your body. and for once, sukuna listens. he leans forward, groaning as he feeds inch after inch of his hard length into your aching hole. there’s a ring of pink stretched taut around him when he pulls back just slightly. you dig your painted nails in his bicep, squealing.

no matter how many times he’s fucked you, with three fingers or more, cock or toys, it always feels like the first time. “s–slow down–” comes a mewl from underneath him when he pushes in too eagerly. sukuna's eyes flit down to take in the sight of you, flushed out and gorgeous, and decides to tease your pitiful sensitivity. a loud moan is ripped from your throat when he pinches your clit. you try to squirm away.

“oh come on. quit pretending you don’t like it when i do that,” sukuna snickers, readjusting his grip on your plush waist before plunging in. hard. you wail at the motion, eyes fluttering close as the lines of your body arch up to meet him. when you’re like this, soft and pliant, sukuna pounds into you easily, molding your walls into the shape of his cock until your wet heat is nothing but a furnace for him to melt into.

and then you feel his lips against your jaw, dry and chapped and dragging harshly. the rhythm he sets is nothing short of violent. your moans and his, ladened with the sounds of skin-on-skin, blend together in a filthy cacophony that you can hardly register over the thick scent of sex that leaves your head spinning. in between mindless thrusts, a pink tongue darts out to sample the sheen of sweat on your skin. you drool deliriously at the sensation.

then sukuna pulls back to watch you, your legs remaining in their rightful place over his shoulders. a hand travels down to where you are connected and collects your slick between two fingers. he smears it all over, rubbing the rough pad of his thumb against your clit before spreading your folds apart. “look at her,” he coos, grinning wickedly as he watches your greedy cunt swallow each sizable inch with each poignant snap of his hips. “what a delicious looking thing.”

“sukuna,” your lips fall open at the praise so invitingly that it’d be a crime not to take the opportunity. it’s a clash of teeth when he finally kisses you. sloppy and hungry and urgent, like a man who’s been starved for years. he drinks your moans and savors them, brushing against your tongue and gliding over the roof of your mouth, hips never ceasing their violent rhythm. when you realize the strange intimacy in this position, you feel the familiar, guttural sensation just beneath our gut.

and sukuna feels it too, the way your walls tighten around him. growling with newfound fervor, he leaves a string of spit when he pulls away to angle your hips and hammer against your cervix, eager to finish with you. screams echo across your apartment. he pants quietly, eyes ablaze and lips swollen from your incessant teeth. your body shivers and twitches from carnal ecstasy, addicted to the thick intrusion that nudges the deep bundle of nerves within you. a spot that only sukuna can reach.

the thought does something to you, because your body decides then to tense up against him, clamping hard around his perimeter and soaking his cock in squirt. although his hips stutter, sukuna doesn't relent and fucks through your tight walls. you cry out and hold him close, digging deep scores down the broad expanse of his back before sukuna finally empties himself with one last thrust. a full-body shudder racks through your body. the sensation tears a second orgasm from your twitching cunt.

through the ringing in your ears, you heave a sigh of content. your companion chuckles and collapses on top of you without bothering to pull out. “i’m coming back next week. got kicked out of my old place,” he suddenly mumbles in the crook of your neck, barely audible. you register his words through post-coital bliss. when you don't respond, he turns his head, but you're already looking at him. studying the expression on his face.

"fine," you concede. "but you better get a real job."

(masterlist) | (a/n: tell ur man to wash his pp before sex. idk if this gets a p.2)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jjk smut #sukuna x you #sukuna ryoumen smut #sukuna smut #sukuna #sukuna x reader smut

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puckinghischier · 1 month ago

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I feel like sick Quinn is the one who wants to be babied and that’s the only time he willingly and openly wants to be cared for

oh he’s such a baby when he’s sick are you kidding me???

he’s def the type to come home after practice when he’s starting to get a cold and just flop on the couch all dramatically with the whole “i can’t go on” attitude. you’d offer to make him soup and he’d be all “noooo i wouldn’t want to make you do that 😔🫣.”

if he even remotely thought he was running a fever he’d moan and groan until you came over to check his temperature, but he wouldn’t let you do it with a thermometer. he wants you to do the whole pressing your cheek to his forehead thing because he’s a little shit always looking for cuddles when he’s sick.

he swears your cuddles are the best medicine, and will lay there and let you literally hold him like a baby. the only time he ever lets you be big spoon is when he’s sick. he’d curl himself into you while you play with his hair and hum your favorite songs, lulling him to sleep.

if you have to make a medicine run he’s all whiny, not wanting you to leave him for any amount of time. “baby, what if something happens while you’re gone? what if i need you? can’t we just get luke or jack to bring it to us?”

“quinny, i’m literally just walking 10 minutes down the road. i promise, you’ll be fine until then. just call me if you need anything,” you’d roll your eyes but speak in a soft, soothing tone, secretly loving how clingy he gets.

he’d huff and pout, crossing his arms and turning his back to you like a toddler as you walk out the door.

when you get back to your apartment with his medicine, he greets you at the door like a puppy, claiming you’ve been gone far longer than 20 minutes and he was starting to worry he’d have to muster up all the energy he had left to venture out and look for you.

after he takes the cold medicine you give him, he gets all drowsy, turning clingier than ever. you’d tuck him in bed and take your spot next to him, not even fully laying down before he’s scooting over to your side and laying half of his body over yours.

“you’re the bestest nurse ever, did’ya know that?” he’d lazily slur, only half awake. “and the hottest one ever. thank you f’taking care of me, baby. i love you, bestest most amazin’ girlfriend ever,” he’d murmur against your skin, not fully enunciating his words.

you just giggle at your usually independent boyfriend turned clinger, knowing his needy nature won’t last very long. here in a few days he’ll go back to the quinn that won’t even hardly let you through the door without dotting on you, always being the one doing the caretaking, never letting himself be on the receiving end. so you snuggle a little closer and enjoy getting to show him how much you love him for once.

#alliyaps #is it bad that i need sick quinn #just let me be the one to soothe him #quinn hughes #hockey #nhl #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes blurb

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biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer · 5 months ago

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Helllooo to one of the most amazing writer I know. I was wondering if you could write some hcs on everyone .Them going to the beach and how they would act :D

Seaswept Sands (All x MC/Reader - Beach HCs)

P A P S I C U M. >:}

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Seaswept: seaswept (not comparable) Located on the sea quotations.

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

This motherfucker hates the beach with a vehemence. He also hates sunscreen, but will still apply it to remain sexily pale.

It’s canon that Sol dislikes the ocean, so the only reason he’d be even remotely close to the beach is because of you.

He probably doesn’t even like sand. He’d rather simply just walk around the beach area.

If you’re more of a beach lover, he’ll be reluctant to join you in the sand, and beg you to not make him go into the water.

Will wear all black and tie his hair up into a messy bun.

If you’re more of a rock investigator (irl me needs a medal for that tbh), he’s gonna avoid rock pools, mostly due to the fact he resents crabs.

Anything that can crawl on him gives him an ick (except if it’s you).

Probably will just find a cafe and order coffees for both of you, especially if you’re gonna swim. You’ll need something to help warm you up, after all.

Most likely just going to serve as a photographer, totally will not use said photos to jack off to you later so he can paint you later <3.

Will be tempted to murder the seagulls. Probably will wring at least one if it tries harassing him tbh- (you won’t find out dw).

Will supervise the bags and all of your belongings.

Also will drive you there and back. Will also prep the car with tons of towels so A. the car won’t get wet (only you’re allowed to be teehee) and B. so you’re not gonna freeze to death.

Hyugo would probably wear shark fins on his sides just to fuck with people.

He’s got extremely white teeth and (I headcanon) a very creepy grin for when he’s murdering intimidating people. So he’d 110% just very slowly emerge from the depths of the water (Pennywise-style) and scare off all the little kids in the vicinity.

His hair is everywhere around his face, and when he’s underwater it looks like a blue halo. One that you yank on when he’s unaware (and above water for fucks’ sake) to try and get him to yelp. (he may or may not accidentally moan but that’s a whole other story). Don’t worry he bites your ankle underwater in revenge.

He probably doesn’t care at all about what swimmers he wears, hell even Baby Shark merch will work for him. He will proudly display it as well. (balls of steel much??)

This guy hooves ice cream like it’s his last day alive. Maybe even iced coffee. He must consume sugar or he will implode.

Is gonna splash you. You both are gonna have water fights the entire time you’re there, until both of you are sopping wet and dripping with ocean water (and fish piss).

Mans will probably ask you to get piggybacked in the water, which tbf you attempt to, then he drags you both underwater.

Will forget to take photos. You’re gonna have to be responsible for that I’m afraid.

Will drive y’all there and back, blaring J-Pop on the radio and grinning maniacally. Be concerned.

This girl is going to be strutting into any beach, or any public place, looking the most glamorous of all.

Will wear a two-piece pink skort and bikini set 110%, will wear a translucent blouse over the top.

This girl will judge everyone else’s bikinis and swimmers more than actually doing something.

Although she isn’t opposed to going in the water, unless it’s cold – I headcanon Brittney hates the cold – you better not get her hair sopping wet, she will murder you and dump your body in a rock pool. <3

Will buy ice cream, she doesn’t seem the type to like salty foods tbh.

Will stalk up to you and ask what you want then vanishes.

She’s got herself a tanning bed btw.

Will read fashion magazines, maybe even do her beach aesthetic makeup. After all, she’s gotta be the hottest chick there. not that she isn’t already

Will eventually stick to building things out of sand, then getting annoyed and breaking them.

Is also going to shower before you, making sure she’s extremely clean before going to the car.

She drives btw.

Jess is the type to build sandcastles. I will fucking smite anyone who says otherwise.

If you both went to the beach, she’d be unwilling to enter the water, mostly due to the fact she def can't swim for shit, and also doesn't want her glasses to get wet (she hates goggles). Wears swimmers underneath a fucking oversized translucent blouse or something.

Would be the type to just plan ahead what exactly she’ll require to make the greatest sandcastle ever, and if that plan fails, she will be extremely sad for the next 2 hours.

Will be one of those people to bury their best friend/partner under the sand. Will put a lot of effort into making your mermaid tail look majestic.

You both will be eating ice cream under an umbrella, taking turns to take selfies (mostly you, she’d be very shy about having her face, she worries whether she’ll look dumb or not)

You both are gonna just watch over the belongings, and take turns showering at the beach so that (Jess’s) car is clean by the time you both get ready to leave.

You’d have had to win about 2000 bets with Geo to get him anywhere near a beach.

Would wear extremely dark gear, you’d not see any part of his body except his very wonderful head.

Will evade sand like it's the Black Plague.

Oh, just a warning, Geo is part fish.

He swims way too far for any sane human being. Hell, he doesn’t even swim, he just glides through the water. Deadpan. On his back. His hair is in a swimming cap btw, he’s not fucking risking damaging it. Also an avid sunscreen user, this man does not want to fucking tan, ew.

Will not eat anything there. He’s got standards. You’ll have to wine and dine him to get him to even sit down amongst all the other citizens of the city. Will reluctantly get you coffee though. He’ll probably only drink coffee if he craves it.

Will contemplate becoming a serial birdkiller; he hates birds. Their squawking makes him want to tear his eardrums out.

Will be extremely happy to walk along rocks, even boardwalking is better than actually being on the beach.

Will take aesthetic photos of the beach, especially if it's during the sunset. May or may not sneakily take some of you to store in his private stash.

Will also drive you both. He is never going to not drive, unless something drastic happens, like his arms getting cut off.

Crowe will have his hair down and is going to wear a stupidly wide-brimmed sun hat.

Is very careful about applying sunscreen, will check the UV rating multiple times.

Is going to watch over your shit and take really beautiful beach photos, will probably read a book silently under an umbrella. You mistook him for a woman one too many times.

Would make sure you don’t go too deep in the water, makes sure you swim between the flags as well.

Literally a walking, talking safety manual.

It’s okay you can shut him up later, with ball gags and a blindfold. <33

Will probs wear a Hawaiian shirt ngl (someone draw that). He’s a lot more relaxed at the beach. Will also be eating fancy af ice cream while lovingly watching you from afar. <3

Would be happy to search rock pools with you as well, in fact, any walking would do him well. He seems the type to love nature a lot.

Is going to be responsible for wrapping you in towels and ensuring you’re comfortable and your temperature is stable.

Will be the one to drive you both home. He can’t have you doing all the work, now can he?

Deryl will be fucking everywhere; this man loves the beach almost as much as he loves you.

Is going to buy as much food as humanly possible. You will have to remind him he cannot eat like a horse then expect to exercise, his stomach won’t be able to tolerate it. Will be disappointed after.

Tries to talk to the seagulls.

Will throw you into the ocean. Lovingly, of course.

Is also the type to get competitive with a bunch of teens over who can dig the deepest hole in the sand.

Will be looking for crabs, starts squealing from joy if he does see one.

Is probs gonna run across the sand with you (he wins every race you two have) shirtless. He’s gonna take ab pics.

You will not have a single normal looking photo with him, I'm sorry.

Although he does get you both a fuckton of food, so you’re not complaining.

You will have to drive both of your asses home though, he’s too excited to drive carefully enough.

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hyewka · 1 year ago

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i seriously need some sub soob🫢

like imagine him squirming and whining because you ONLY kissed his red tip thats leaking precum ehishsisidjdd im going insaneeee

warnings; sub!soobin obvi, sort of pervy, best friends who fuck each other (fwb), puppy pet name, big dick soob, slapping ?? balls??, gets a boner from cleavage, soobin is extra sensitive down there and cums a lot

When Soobin invited you over to his dorm, you don’t exactly expect to have nothing but your phone to turn to as he simultaneously gets worked up over some video game he’s playing and ignores you all around. You should’ve guessed this was going to happen, but you’re bitter about it anyway.

Is it a crime to have thought that he was implying something else by inviting you over?

“I’m bored.” you whine for the umpteenth time, your thumb with no thought scrolling through your feed of posts you’ve already liked and reposted.

When he doesn’t even spare a glance, you scoff and resort to a kick at his back—which to your credit, gets him to adjust his headset and look back to you.

“Yeah?” he mouths, not having heard you before.

You can’t help but think he looked cute today, his pinkish lips and the hair over his eyes making him look even more of a puppy, but before you could even get a word out, his eyes suddenly widen at the faint yell you could hear from his headset, immedietley turning around has he aggresively spams buttons on his controller in panic.

“Holy shit dude, get off my ass I looked away for one—”

You groan into his pillow, making sure to make it as dramatic as possible, proceeding to sulk right after. This was not a productive use of your time. Fifty entire minutes of laying on his bed as he plays a video game. The switch out of your sport bra for a push up right before you came over really is doing nothing for you right now.

When you hear a string of curses spilling out of his mouth, you look over your shoulder curiously and see that his screen was in spectator mode. “You lost?”

He groans, taking off his headset completely, his mic muted. “Mhm, got killed. What’s up though?”

You take note of the screaming now louder from his headphones. Probably at him for getting eliminated. You don’t let him be though, exhaling dramatically looking back to your phone, “What’s up is your bestest, number one, most treasured, hottest friend is horny, sexually frustrated, and bored out of their mind.”

Soobin chokes on practically nothing at the casual mention of you being horny. It’s dumb, like he’s a middle school boy with no experience.

He really was not used to the ‘thing’ between you guys, like, at all. The stolen kisses (which is to be noted very quickly turn into full blown makeout sessions) when no one’s looking, the occasional need to send pics of his hard on to you, slight panic and regret settling in when he sees the ‘read’ receipt with no sign of a response for an entire five minutes (are you not in the mood? did you hate it? will you stop what you guys have going on?), or even the late night calls when you decide to facetime him instead of responding to his blurry nudes through text, and then…well, phone sex seemed to be a normal standard of your friendship. Weirdly enough.

Even if by now you’ve fucked him well over a few times that a mere mention of feeling horny shouldn’t have gotten him as flustered as it just did. But it’s so sudden, the shift from being friends who strongly, and vehemently denied of the secretly dating rumors to…secretly fucking.

“Oh yeah?” comes out a lot more in a loser way than he intended because he basically chokes it out. He’s never been nervous around you, save for the beginning of your friendship.

You’re very much aware of how unjusted Soobin is to the sudden change in your dynamic. Even you think it’s odd that the person you end up texting when you get…needy is Soobin.

Soobin was never the guy you’d think of starting anything even remotely sexual with.

You’ve known him since the years of being taller than him, and you’ve come to learn about his many deep faults along with gross habits you would never let fly under the radar if from someone else, so for him to be the exact type of man you’ve been seeking lately in bed is, well, surprising.

He seems to be the only person who can satisfy you nowadays. But you try not to show it too much, basking much more in how easily he gets flustered. It’s adorable.

“Yeah,” you sigh, shifting position from your stomach to your back and after much contemplation, deciding to take the chance of sitting up straight, “Did you really invite me over to watch you game? You know I don’t play video games.”

You don’t miss the way his eyes trail down, for sure because your chest was in full view now, his tongue prodding out just a tiny bit to wet his lips, almost like out of instinct. That dog. You show a bit of cleavage and he’s already drooling.

To be fair, it is the exact reaction you were fishing out of him. So you’re definitely not complaining.

You end up stifling a laugh, to which he immediately catches like he’s been trained to know your laughs on cue, breaking him out of his daze—an awkward coughing fit delayed a few seconds after to distract from the fact that he thinks he might’ve been caught, blush quickly warming his cheeks. “You think they’re silly, yeah, I know.

“But they’re—they’re not!” he splutters out, “I thought if you watched me play with Beo—”

“Were you just staring at my tits?” you cut him off with half the ability to not just start laughing. It’s worth seeing Soobin’s eyes widen like a cartoon character.

“No!” he says immediately— the crack of his voice doing nothing to help you keep a straight face. See? Adorable.

Then he huffs out a scoff like he’s surprised you’d ever accuse of him of such scandalous behavior. “Just because we fuck doesn’t mean I want to do you every second of the day. I respect you.”

It’s like a game of your cocked brow calling bullshit (more on the fucking thing than respecting you) and him staring back just as intensely as if he truly was not just ogling at your chest. Okay then, fair enough. You’ll get him to break. And admit to it.

“So if I did this…” you unbutton one of the two buttons of your crop top, and your eyes intently watch the way he struggles to not watch your every movement, still keeping his eyes on your face.

Stubborn. You can work with that. He won’t last long.

You drag the unbuttoning of the second one, and when it finally pops out, it’s a full view of your cleavage, cool air of the A.C being the cause of the goosebumps appearing.

And you’re right. He doesn’t last long. Barely even five seconds.

“My eyes are up here idiot.”

He doesn’t even try to hide the blushing anymore, once again licking his lips. You can see the bob of his adam apple when he finally meets your eyes. “Can I see your tits?” he says—the shame of asking is something that overtime became a numbing feeling, because with each time you casually lift your shirt at his request, the easier it gets to push down the feeling of being a pervert.

You break into a wide grin at how easy and straightforward he was—a passing thought of hoping he’s not like, like this for every living thing with fatty tissue on their chest. It’s not jealousy, god no, but it’s better if this was only between you two… for safety reasons?

You pretend to ponder on it but he should know by now that the enjoyment you get out of teasing him is way greater than any feeling.

You decide on what you’ll say, an evil smirk making way. “Am I just a pair of breasts Soobin? Just for you to ogle at? I thought you respected me.”

He shuts his eyes, whining at seeing that his words were very quick to bite him in the ass. “Please. You know I’ll be good.” he whispers the last few words and that has an affect on you. Big one.

Because he isn’t lying. Soobin’s very obedient. And god, you love it. So much.

But you don’t show that, you never do—letting him chase after something for once. Maybe if he gets a little more desperate, you’d think about a quick flash. “You have plenty of my nudes saved, can’t you jerk off to those? Y’know, like you usually do.”

Is it fair to make a jab at the occasional, every so often muffled voice messages in response to even just a slightly revealing picture that you’re asking him the opinion of, where you could hear his unstable breathing and the wet sounds of his pre cum covered shaft? Probably not, especially when you also get off of pics he’d unknowingly send to be the most delicious, mouth watering photo you’ve seen yet.

Soobin, on the other hand, is like, sure he’d go insane. Ever since he was allowed to look at you in the not-only-friends way, he took up every chance you dangled in front of him like a dog with a bone. Showing a little bit of your cleavage? His mind’s running to images. Just thinking of kissing and sucking until your tits go sore makes him so shamelessly a pervert. Seeing the head of his cock disappear between your tits when you took it upon yourself that one day of giving him a taste of what a titty fuck was like—god, it’s forever embedded into his memory.

He still sulks over the fact that you didn’t let him take a video.

Suddenly his well fitted sweats have easily become the most suffocating piece of clothing, his bulge shy of peaking through the fabric and making an obvious imprint. He tries to not look like a sore desperate loser, to look just a tiny bit cooler, but you make it so hard that he’s willing to get on his knees. Like seriously.

You’re back on your phone, looking to be disinterested which makes him bite the insides of his cheeks—already overthinking. Were you mad that he asked to see?

He tentatively puts a hand on your ankle, gauging at least some sort of reaction. You give him that—a glance. “Sorry if like, um— I didn’t invite you just for games obviously— well, okay not ‘obviously’ but I, uh, also don’t think you’re like, a floating pair of…breasts or something.” You cock a brow, really curious of where this Soobin ramble of the day would go.

“You’re my bestest friend—is that corny to say? Shit, well, you are and I think you’re smart, and obviously really funny, and bright and so pretty, like, really pretty and I mean—”

“Soobin where the fuck are you?”

You both look at the headset next to him on the bed, the yelling loud enough to transcend the reason the product was made anyway. He looks back to you and you could tell he intends on finishing his monologue. “And I mean—” he starts again before cursing under his breath at the second time he gets cut off.

“Fucking cuck, are you ignoring us?”

He groans at the stupid item, as if it just ruined a critical moment. Then he looks back at you apologetically. God, he hopes you don’t leave. “Um, well I have to keep playing they’d kill me if—” he panics a little trying to explain but you’re on another train of thought entirely, thinking that this was perfect timing.

“It’s okay, keep playing!” You say, practically gleaming.

His facial expression is a mix of skeptical confusion and desperation. But instead of questioning your enthusiasm, he bites down on his lip for a second. “You—you won’t leave, right? Don’t leave. Please.”

You shake your head, mouthing an ‘I won’t’ and finally, he lets out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding in.

He doesn’t know why he’s so desperate for you to stay. It’s not like you don’t see each other, like every day of the week or even call each other when you somehow don’t. But regardless he wants you to stay, and he doesn’t mind coming off desperate for once.

The situation at hand is too obviously right in your face.

His ramble that was cut off short by who you made out to be none other than Beomgyu, and then Heeseung was…kind of sweet.

No, it was sweet. He thinks you’re really pretty? Not just pretty but really pretty. And smart? And funny? He’s so cute holy shit you could just reach out to pinch his rosy cheeks. But you didn’t and you probably won’t. Because something else caught your attention.

His bulge.

It was too…out there for you to not subtly look down every few filler word Soobin mumbled. You’re not sure what got him to pop a full blown boner. The teasing? You only said a few sentences and showed modest reveal of your boobs. But nevertheless, you try really hard to bite away a smile because holy shit, he really is easy.

And it fucking turns you on. More than it should. And more than it would if it was any other person.

If you felt horny before, you were basically drenched when getting a glimpse of his wide eyes at seeing you on the carpet, on your knees as you’re face to face with his crotch. He seems to freeze for a second before he quickly works to get his headset off, trying to abandon the game completely.

“No.” you say sternly, grabbing his dick through his sweats, “Keep playing.”

He mouths a big ‘what’, nearly whisper shouting, his eyes bulging out. You simply shrug, feeling all too smug, and start to palm him over the fabric. He lets out a sigh of pleasure, shutting his eyes.

“Dude, why the hell are you not moving? Fuck’s wrong with Soobin today?” You hear someone yell.

“If you stop, I stop.” You mouth slowly, and he seems to catch it, hands shaking as he reluctantly picks his controller up again.

“You’re evil.”

To that, you give him a smile, not really denying it. Because maybe you were, knowing how sensitive he is.

You hope Soobin’s mic is as shitty as you’ve heard Hueningkai complain a multitude of times, because if not, he’ll have a very hard time on call with his friends from now on. Or maybe not. Maybe it’s a bragging point to have a girl suck you off while playing video games.

You imagine it’d still be a bit awkward anyway.

“How come you’re so big?” you whisper, more to yourself than him, but he catches it, and still reacts, bucking his hips to your touch, groaning. You click your tongue, pushing him down with one hand, as a warning.

“Don’t move. Don’t take your hands off the controller. And don’t make a sound.” It doesn’t take him long before he nods, obediently fixating his eyes on the tv screen.

You coo at how hard he narrows his eyes, thumbs working its action—but you want him to break. Maybe you really are evil.

And maybe he already was breaking.

He spreads his legs more and more, before lifting his ass off the mattress, already impatiently needy.

“Touch me.” he whispers, only for you to hear.

You raise a brow, huffing out a laugh as you decide that maybe you should stop playing around and pull his sweats down to his ankles. You don’t waste a second to.

When you take in the state of his cock, your mouth could water just at how pretty it looks. You’ve seen it well over a dozen times—over pics, over facetime, in real life, but you’re never not in awe each time. His slit was already bubbling precum, the thickness of his dick eye widening— It’s not like you have small hands either, and yet you still can’t fully wrap your hand around him. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to his size.

And god his tip was swollen red you’re sure if you just so briefly touched it he’d spasm and jizz all over your face. So you’re gentle. Or at least, you make an attempt.

Promptly grabbing his dick again, you could feel him grow heavier when you let it sit on your hand for a second. Soobin sighs into his mic, no doubt briefly catching the attention of his friends.

“Soobin, you’re dripping.” you comment, eyes following the trail of cum running down his length to your hand. It’s more in amusement, how he’s basically on the verge of an orgasm without much from you.

You could tell he’s using his last bits of patience to not just outright fuck into your fist, and it fascinates you. You start slowly dragging your hand on his shaft, made easier to navigate with his ridiculous amount of pre cum working as lube.

You watch as he adjusts his position subtly a few times, knowing that he’s trying to keep from slipping out any whines, pursing his lips. But his eyes betray him, they looked distant—not focused. “How many kills?” you ask.

“Zero.”

You furrow your brows, pouting as you still your hands. “I’ll speed up with each kill. You have to win for me puppy or I’ll get sad.”

Soobin doesn’t know exactly how he’d aim let alone manage a kill with the way you grip the base of his cock, but he knows that despite the sincerety of your words, he doesn’t like to think that you’d get sad. He so badly wants to make you proud in some way, happy with that glint in your eyes.

So, he gets a kill.

You hear the comments from his friends, passing compliments and you smile, slowly working your hand. “Got a kill.” he says under his breath, trying his hardest to not fall into the urge of shutting his eyes. Because god, you were good.

“Yeah? For me? Get another one puppy.”

A new fire ignites in his chest as he spams buttons, yearning to hear a praise slip from your lips. The way he knits his eyebrows in concentration and had his tongue peeking out was so adorable you almost lose control. Almost.

His breathing picks up as he says, “Another one.”

You get the confirmation he’s saying the truth by his friends again and you start moving your hand unfathomably fast as a reward, your hand getting sticky. “Gooood boy, getting all the kills.”

The sudden speed gets to Soobin, faltering his streak as he holds back choked up groans, head quickly becoming light. “Too much, too much.” he whispers, soft moans slipping through his breathing. You catch the way his hands loosen its grip on the controller and you smirk.

He’s way too easy to break.

“Too much? Should I stop?”

He shakes his head again, this time more frantic. You could make out the sparkly tears threatening to spill—you’re all too familiar with this. “Please don’t.”

“Then what? What do you want me to do?” you ask slowly, wet sounds of your hand working at his dick so dirty.

“Mouth,” he sighs, not controlling the way his hips buck into your hands despite your disapproval. “Want you to put it in your mouth.”

You almost laugh—your mouth? Last time, he barely lasted a second. You’re not doing that. But you’ll tease him about it regardless.

“Put what in my mouth?”

He doesn’t waste a breath. “Cock. My cock.”

You’re not even sure if he muted his mic by now, but the way he says it in that needy, desperate broken voice is so sinful you’re surprised you haven’t jumped his bones. Too bad you won’t give him what he wants—or at least not completely.

You rub your thumb over the head of his dick, dribbles of pre-cum still messily spurting from his slit. He’s not paying attention to the game—no, his eyes were focused entirely on you. You would scold him, but you’re entirely too aroused by the way his mouth basically waters in anticipation.

You maintain eye contact when you dip your head down slowly, an experimental kitten lick on his tip and he immediately thrusts his hip, dick slipping past your lips. You pull back, expecting that exact reaction—and he whimpers. Whimpers.

It’s not hard to pick up on the screaming from his headset, his friends clearly pissed off that hes been in the same spot for well over a minute now, becoming an easy kill to enemies on the other team. “Puppy, how come you’re losing? I thought you were doing well.”

Before he could respond, you tighten your grip on his shaft, and he groans, trying to bite down the noise—maybe he didn’t mute it after all. It’s almost animalistic how he chases your hand.

But you’re not as forgiving now—misbehaving boys get punished. You lick the underside of his dick, dragging the flatness of it up to his head, saltiness of his pre-cum overpowering your tastebuds before pulling back to see Soobin has basically abandoned the game, head thrown back as both his hands grip the sheets under him, letting out broken pitched moans.

You smile, knowing you gave him the impression that you’d put him in your mouth. No, you’re here to have your fun. He peeks through an eye at feeling you do nothing more, and the moment he does, you slap—hard. Maybe a tad bit harder than you intended.

Your aim was his nutsack, balls full of cum you could see he was holding from the week you’ve challenged him to not jerk off, and god—the way his eyes fly open, jaw slacking as his legs spasm, letting out a sound you’ve never heard a man make— you wonder why you haven’t done this sooner.

“You didn’t get off like I told you to right? Good puppy.” He nods frantically, his vision fogging.

He looks so broken, tears streaming down his cheeks faster than you could even take notice of. If his friends didn’t hear him before, they definitely heard him now. He’s a hiccuping mess, nose running when you decide to give him a little more, swirling your tongue around his tip, warm in your mouth— then you pull back before he loses control and starts fucking your mouth.

“Puppy can’t talk? Your friends know how much of a whore you are now…isn’t that embarrassing?” you coo, your hand still jerking him off. “What would they say knowing you’re my little mutt, obeying each and every word like a dog in heat?”

The words are getting to him. He tried to keep quiet for the sake of his pride— anyone knowing how desperate he gets for you is a hit to his ego, it’s embarrassing the amount of things he’d do just for a chance of eating you out, but this spurs him on— having you degrade him, telling him what exactly he is to you. Your obeying dog.

You could see his lips quivering, and notice the tensing of his body. Quickly, you part your hair to the side, take him in your mouth all the way, trying to relax your throat as to not gag when your nose finally presses against his abdomen—but of course you do, it’s hard not to with how thick he is. It doesn’t take a milisecond before you feel his load spilling down your throat, his big hands moving to hold the back of your head, orgasm crashing down like waves of the pacific came over him.

You stay there for a few more seconds, feeling yourself get lightheaded with how much he manages to cum, and even when you pull away with a need to take a deep breath, you see that his dick was still spurting little bits. “Holy shit.” you say under your breath, slightly coughing as you wipe away at the semen that managed to dribble down your chin.

Soobin had a lot stored.

Soobin falls backwards on the bed, chest heaving up and down, trying to catch his breath, some of his hair plastered to his forehead and his temple. There’s a lot of thoughts spinning in his head. And he doesn’t exactly know how to label them. Lazily, he takes his headset off, throwing it to god knows where.

“Hey. Question.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you fuck other people?”

You perk up at the question, the randomness making you stay silent for a bit until you shrug. “No, not really.”

Soobin sighs. He doesn’t know why. Was it relief? Maybe. Probably.

“Do you?” you ask it almost timidly, unknowingly playing with the threads of your ripped jeans. Thank god to Soobin because he answers quickly, not allowing for any space of anxiousness.

“No. Only you.”

You slowly nod, pursing your lips. “Cool.”

“Yeah, very cool,” then his brows furrow at a thought popping up in his head, “Wait, do you like,”

You raise your brows. “Do I what?”

“Like, you know, suck off other guys?”

You scoff, he’s so ridiculous. You don’t even get to see his reaction to your answers, as you’re sitting on the floor and his back is on the mattress. “No Soobin, I don’t suck off other guys. Well, not as of recently. You’re the only one I’ve been doing this with.”

“Oh, o-okay.” You snort at the cute stutter.

Too bad you don’t catch the small ‘good’ he says under his breath.

note: when i checked the word count I was so shocked we’re keeping that a secret 😭 appreciate any feedback!

#txt smut #soobin smut #sub!soobin #sub!idol #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #soobin hard thoughts #soobin hard hours

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pizzaqueen · 1 year ago

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First kiss fluff future fic for day three of @steddie-week (prompts discover and first kiss)

612 words / rated G or T

“No hot date tonight?” Eddie asks as Steve settles beside him on the couch with a bowl of popcorn. The couch is pretty old—it was old when they got it and that was years ago—and sinks in the middle. It means they always end up squished together, unless they sit at opposite ends; they usually end up squished.

Steve winks, throwing some popcorn in his mouth. “Only you.”

Eddie’s stupid pulse does an annoying little leap, which he steadfastly ignores. “When was the last time you went on a date, anyway?”

“When was the last time that was any of your business?”

Eddie snorts. “Don’t act all offended. I know things about you you’d pay me to keep quiet.”

“Oh, so this was all a lead up to blackmail?”

“No, I’m saving that for a rainy day.” Eddie grins, waggling his brows. Steve, unsurprisingly, rolls his eyes, then turns to the television. Eddie shrugs and adds, “I was just thinking I can’t remember the last time you went on a date. That’s all.”

“I guess I’ve given it up,” Steve says quickly, words almost masked as he shoves some more popcorn in his mouth. He swipes the remote from Eddie and starts flipping through the channels.

“You’ve given up on dating?” When Steve nods, Eddie says, “Why?” And then, stomach swooping sickly, “Have you met someone?”

There’s a beat and then Steve says, “No.” He glances at Eddie, lit by the flickering glow of the television. No matter how much Eddie looks at Steve, he doesn’t get any less beautiful. And Eddie should know—he’s spent a lot of time looking at Steve over the years they’ve been friends. Steve presses his lips together. “But I… I don’t know, I wasn’t finding what I wanted on any of my dates.”

“And you’re going to find it without dating?”

“I have.” Panic flickers in Steve’s eyes. “I mean, I’m happy enough. I don’t hate my job, I love this apartment, and I…” He swallows thickly. “I’d just rather be here with you.”

“Oh.” Eddie’s head swims. He must be dreaming because Steve can’t be saying what it sounds like he’s saying, can he?

“Not that… I don’t expect you to just stay here all the time with me, you know? Just because I’ve given up dating doesn’t mean you have to. I just meant…” Steve runs a hand over his face. “Fuck.”

“I’d rather be here with you too.” Eddie speaks quickly, heart beating hard.

Steve raises his brows. “Yeah?”

Eddie nods. “Yeah.” And then, taking a chance, he slides his hand into Steve’s, lacing their fingers together.

“Oh. You mean…” Steve looks down at their hands. “Oh.”

Shit. Eddie was wrong. Spooked, he tries to pull his hand away, but Steve holds on tight. “What?”

“I meant that too.” Steve rubs his thumb along Eddie’s hand. “Okay?”

Eddie exhales, breath catching on a nervous laugh. “Okay.”

Steve smiles and Eddie smiles back and then Steve brings their joined hands to his mouth, kissing Eddie’s gently.

Warmth rushes Eddie, filling him from head to toe, and he leans over and presses his lips to Steve’s. The bowl of popcorn is upturned, but Eddie only distantly registers the sound of it falling to the floor, his entire focus narrowing to Steve’s lips against his.

“The popcorn,” Steve murmurs against Eddie’s mouth.

“I don’t care.”

“Yeah,” Steve says, “me either,” and kisses Eddie more deeply than before.

When they part, Steve says, “I guess you are my hot date, after all,” eyes twinkling.

“The hottest.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but he smiles and says, “No one hotter,” and kisses Eddie again and again.

#steddie #Steve x eddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddieweek2023 #its officially day three so I’m posting because I’m impatient lol #I’ve run out of my buffer fics now though lol #Pizzaqueenfic #steddie first kiss

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etherrreal · 2 years ago

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“when they’re feeling insecure”

Pairing: atsumu x reader; kita x reader; suna x reader Genre: reverse comfort-fluff; drabbles & headcanons WC: 5.169 Warnings: N/A A/N: thanks for the request! this is actually the first piece we’ve worked on together so we’re excited for you all to see it! enjoy :) -Dawn & Luna

since you and Atsumu tended to be strapped on time to spend with each other—with you working full-time and him being a national volleyball player—you liked to meet up with him after practice sometimes so you can pick up some food and get some quality time together

he was always taking his sweet time to get showered and ready to go, so you got to bond with some of his teammates, his captain Meian especially

when you found out you both loved the same show, every week, the day after the show aired, you got to practice a bit earlier so you and him had time to talk about the newest episode

Atsumu watched every week as you barely gave him a wave when you entered the gym those days, bee-lining straight to Meian and launching into animated conversation about your show

he had tried many times to sit down to watch it with you, but each time, about 15 minutes into the show, he found himself disinterested and distracted by his phone

he knew that never bothered you—”we don’t have to have the same interests,” you would tell him—but, week by week, as he observed you light up those days you walked into the gym to talk with Meian, he began to feel like maybe he wasn’t trying hard enough to get into your interests like you do for him

and he’d be damned if big bicep Meian would make you laugh more than he did

It’s Friday, you’re absolutely exhausted from work, and you’re ready to wash the grime of the day away in the hottest shower imaginable. You’re a little thrown off when you walk in the house and hear the T.V. playing in the living room, familiar voices from your favorite show coming from the room. You don’t remember leaving it on before you left, so you creep into the room slowly, peering around the corner to see a mop of blond hair leaning against the back of the couch.

“What are you doing?”

Atsumu snorts himself awake at the sound of your voice, eyes bleary as he tries to gather himself, gaze darting between you and the screen.

“Oh, me? Just catching up on your show.” He’s back to lounging against the arm of the couch, remote in hand gesturing to the screen. “It’s the part where that one girl, uh, Ashley is talkin’ to her boyfriend right now about how they’re going to move in together soon.”

“Okay, first of all, that’s not her name.” You set your bag down next to the couch, throwing yourself down onto the cushion next to him. “Second, that’s her mortal enemy, and I’m pretty sure they’re talking about how she hopes he bites the dust on their next mission.”

Atsumu stares at the screen, paying attention to the dialogue for probably the first time since turning it on. “Oh.”

You can’t help but chuckle at his cluelessness. “I’ve already told you, ‘Tsumu, you don’t have to like the same things that I do just because we’re dating. Just like I don’t like volleyball that much, you don’t have to like my show as much as I do.”

He gasps, scandalized. “You don’t like volleyball?!”

“Not as much as you do, dummy. That’s my point! We’re two separate people with separate interests, and that’s okay.”

“Yeah, but…” You don’t hear the rest of his statement as he mumbles it, shrinking into himself with arms crossed and chin buried into his chest.

“You gotta speak up, babe. I couldn’t catch that.”

He sighs heavily, arms still crossed, now with a comically deep frown on his face. “But you and Meian are always talkin’ and laughin’ together at practice when you should be doing that with me, your boyfriend!”

“Oooh, come here, my dear sweet Atsumu.” He doesn’t hesitate to accept your invitation, nearly knocking the wind out of you as he wraps his arms around your torso, smushing his cheek against your chest. “You know I love you dearly. But trying to talk to you about my show is like talking to a brick wall, and I say that with all the love in the world. Now I finally have someone that I can talk to about my show, so you don’t have to hear me drone on.”

He grumbles. “I guess. But can’t you find someone else less… beefy to talk to about it with?”

You pause, trying to sift through his lot of friends for someone who doesn’t fit that bill. “Babe. All of your friends are beefy, so it wouldn’t even matter if there was someone else there that I can talk to about it. Besides, his appearance doesn’t even matter. It’s nothing more than some friendly chatter, alright?”

“Alright.” You press a kiss to the top of his head before he whines, tilting his head all the way up to offer his lips to you so you can give him a proper kiss. “...Just wish you’d be less happy about it.”

you were invited to a night out at a bar with some old friends from high school, and decided to drag Kita along for the ride to introduce him to the ol’ gang

drinks were being served, shots were being had, and everyone was getting along swimmingly

Kita, who’d been nursing a bottle of water in preparation for work the next day, stayed by your side the whole night, smiling as you and your friends swapped stories and dutifully holding your things when they dragged you off to the dancefloor

he was at the bar getting you another drink when your friend Aina approached, leaning against the bar

“I like you for them,” she announced, words slurring. “They need someone plain like you to balance them out.”

he knew she didn’t mean it as an insult, but the word “plain” punched him right in the gut, insecurity washing over him as he realized it was absolutely true

you were the daring, adventurous type, always ready to jump right into things headfirst, while Kita preferred a steadier approach

normally this wasn’t a problem for the two of you, but suddenly Kita couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you were getting bored with him

it didn’t help that you had to cut your night short because of Kita’s early job, which consumed him with guilt as he watched you hug everyone goodbye, telling them you’d meet again at some point

the ride home was quiet as Kita thought about the ways he could be the fun, spontaneous man you deserved

the next day, he showed up at your door and invited you on an impromptu picnic date in the park, which you were more than happy to agree to

he was so ready to give you an amazing date and prove to you that he was more than just your plain boyfriend, but it seemed that the universe had other plans, as what was supposed to be your perfect and fun day quickly transformed into a disaster

at first, everything started off pretty smoothly, until Kita realized he forgot to bring a blanket, and the two of you were forced to sit on the wet, muddy grass

then when he opened the basket, he realized all the drinks had spilled on the drive over, effectively ruining all of the food he packed

you took it all in stride, reassuring him it could’ve happened to anyone, and ended up grabbing some takoyaki from a nearby food stand

for a moment Kita thought things were finally looking up, until an unleashed dog bounded towards you and knocked the takoyaki straight out of your hand and onto the ground, leaving the two of you to share whatever was left of his

he was so sure that it couldn’t get any worse, and then it started to rain– and not just a little drizzle, either, but a huge downpour that sent the two of you and the rest of your fellow park-goers scrambling for cover

and just to add insult to injury, his car ended up getting a flat only five minutes into the drive home, leaving him with no choice but to pull over and call for help, a shitty ending to an even shittier day

Kita’s not usually the type to believe that the universe is working against him –he prefers leaving those kinds of dramatics to the likes of Atsumu– but after the day he’s had, he’s starting to wonder.

His plan to prove to both you and himself that he could be an exciting, spontaneous, and definitely not plain boyfriend had started off decently enough. He showed up at your place with a nervous heart and a picnic basket in hand, announcing only somewhat shakily that he’d be stealing you for the day, whisking you off on an impromptu picnic date.

You’d had no prior warning, hence the whole spontaneous thing, but you went along with it easily enough, more than willing to spend a little extra time with your boyfriend. You threw on the quickest presentable outfit you could find and then you were off, eager to see where the day –and Kita– would take you. You ended up driving out to a flower field in the park, and it was absolutely wonderful.

For the first five minutes, at least.

Then it all went to shit.

Now the two of you are sitting in his car, soaked to the bone as you wait for a tow truck, and Kita is trying his very best not to let on how utterly defeated and pathetic he feels. He thinks the only thing keeping him from sulking outright is the fact that you’re still holding his hand, and even then, he can’t stop the frown that forms on his face.

“I’m so sorry about today,” he starts lamely, breaking the silence, voice shakier than he’s used to. He knows it’s not nearly enough to make up for the complete and utter catastrophe that your date turned into, but he supposes it’s a good enough place to start. “I know it wasn’t what you were expectin’ when I told you I’d be takin’ you out for a romantic picnic in the park. Hell, it wasn’t what I was expectin’, either.”

“Well, it was definitely an adventure, that’s for sure,” you say, in that carefree and teasing way of yours. Then you bring his hand closer to you and press your lips to the back of his palm, a playful but genuine smile tugging at your lips. “Still, I’m glad I came. I had a really good time today, Shin.”

Kita blinks, eyes wide as he stares at you as if you’ve grown a second head. “You did?”

“Of course I did. I was with you. I always have a good time when I’m with you.” You say it casually, easily, like it’s just that simple, and when he continues to gape at you, you raise an eyebrow. “What? Why do you look so surprised?”

“That’s because I am surprised. Today was a disaster, darlin’. It was the opposite of everythin’ that I wanted it to be.”

“Well, what did you want it to be?”

“Somethin’ good and excitin’ that you could enjoy the way you deserve.” He looks away, unable to meet your eyes as his gaze drifts to your intertwined hands, voice soft and quiet, defeated. “Somethin’ to show you that I could be fun and spontaneous, and not just the borin’ and plain boyfriend you’ve been stuck with.”

“Woah, wait, boring and plain? Stuck with?” you repeat, incredulous, brows furrowing as your lips curve into a frown of their own. “What are you talking about, Shin? You’re sure as hell not just someone I’m stuck with– where’s all of this even coming from?”

Despite himself, he hesitates. The last thing he wants to do is weigh you down with his insecurities, but Kita has never lied to you before, and he certainly doesn’t plan on starting now.

That’s when he tells about everything that happened last night, about Aina’s off-handed comment and about all the doubts and insecurities that’d been unearthed as a result. He tells you about the plan he made, the one he wanted so badly to be enough to prove to you that he could be the man you want, the man you deserve.

“I’m so sorry that happened, Shin,” is the first thing you say when he’s finished speaking, genuine and apologetic as you give his hand a comforting squeeze. “I know she was drunk, but Aina had no right to say that to you, and I’ll be telling her as much first thing tomorrow.”

“S’alright. I know she didn’t mean it as a bad thing,” Kita says, squeezing your hand back. “Still, it got me thinkin’, y’know? About you and me, and the fact that we’re so different. I mean, you– you’re so bright and darin’ and fearless and I’m just– I’m not.”

“So? I like you for you, Shin. I always have. And I especially like how different we both are.”

“I know. I do, too, I just– sometimes I just can’t help but feel like I’m borin’ you. Like you’re settlin’ for me. And I’m not sayin’ that I think you don’t love me, ‘cuz I know you do, I just–” He gives a shaky exhale and runs his free hand through his hair, faltering a little, before forcing himself to continue, though he still can’t quite meet your eyes. “I guess it’s just hard for me to make sense of the thought of someone as amazin’ and full of life as you wantin’ to be with someone as simple as me.”

The confession is raw and vulnerable, the way Kita’s only ever allowed himself to be around you. It softens you, makes you release his hand in favor of cupping his face, a silent plea to get him to look at you. And though he still feels pretty pathetic about everything, he doesn’t deny you, lifting his gaze to meet yours and finding himself stunned by the open affection in your eyes, the undeniable love he’s not sure he’ll ever get enough of.

“Oh, Shinsuke, baby, you’re not simple.” Your words, like your hands on his face, are gentle but firm, and when he shoots you a doubtful look, you lean closer and insist, “You’re not. You’re hardworking and dedicated, not to mention generous and so, so kind. You take care of me and make me laugh, and you’re always there to listen to me and support me, no matter how stubborn I am or how crazy my ideas get. You’re everything I want, not to mention everything I need. You make me better, and I love you, just the way you are.”

It’s strange, Kita thinks, how quickly your words ease the uncertainty and doubt that’d been weighing on his chest, how effortlessly your touch soothes him. There’s so much he wants to say to you. He wants to tell you how grateful he is for you, how much your words mean to him. Mostly, he wants to tell you that he loves you.

But then you tug his face towards you, closing the distance between you and pressing your lips firmly against his, and he realizes he doesn’t have to, because you already know. You feel it in the way he wraps his arms around you to pull you closer, in the way one of his hands tangles in your hair. Still, he does his best to prove it to you, anyway, deepening the kiss with a drag of his tongue across your lips and a muffled groan that has you scraping your nails against his scalp.

You’re both breathless when you pull away, just enough so that you can lean your forehead against his, all gentle comfort and soft affection.

“So get the thought of you being the person I settled for out of your pretty little head,” you say firmly, lightly tugging on his hair for good measure, “because you’re not. You’re the person I chose, the one I plan to continue choosing for a long, long time. Have I made myself clear?”

And Kita can only smile at you, turning his face to place a gentle kiss to the inside of your palm, all of his previous anxieties and insecurities forgotten.

“Crystal, darlin’.”

you and Suna were at your cousin’s wedding, and you set off to grab some more drinks at the bar

Suna watched as you left—definitely checking out your ass—when he saw you get stopped by a guy, who put his hand hand on your arm and said something to you, and then suddenly, you were hugging

you were both so animated, so effortless, in your interactions, and Suna even saw you bust out laughing in a way you usually only do when he tells you the most god awful joke

Suna nudges your friend Aina who’s standing next to him, gesturing over to you both as he asks about who the guy is, thinking maybe he’s another cousin or something

“Oh, that’s her ex, Haru,” she explains, “They were friends all throughout childhood and even dated for a while in high school.”

this, of course, isn’t Suna’s first time hearing about your ex, seeing as the two of you have been dating long enough to have already swapped stories about previous breakups, but it is his first time seeing you and Haru interact in person

and while Suna already knows that the breakup was mutual and that you and Haru ended things pretty amicably, he’d be lying if he said seeing Haru act so familiar with you doesn’t bother him

still, Suna trusts you, and the last thing he’s going to do is make a scene at your cousin’s wedding, which is why he opts to ignore the interaction entirely, until one of the women standing nearby makes it impossible for him

the woman—maybe an aunt of yours—jumps in to add, “they were so cute, weren’t they? We were all so sure they were going to end up together. After all, they only broke up because they were heading off to different colleges.”

and if that doesn’t make him feel shitty enough, another woman, whom he quickly realizes is Haru’s mother, chimes in, “they would’ve been high school sweathearts, what’s more perfect than that! It’s too bad they had to break up.”

Aina freezes, panicked, as her gaze darts between him and the women nearby, like she’s debating whether or not she should say something, but Suna stops her with a shake of his head, brushing the whole thing off like it doesn’t bother him, even though it really does

Suna isn’t friends with any of his exes, so he doesn’t understand how two people who decided they couldn’t be together could act so natural and cheerful—and not deathly awkward—with one another years after the split

as much as he hates admitting it, you and Haru do look really good together, even if your interaction only ended up lasting a few minutes, and your family clearly still adores him, so much so that they invited him to your cousin’s wedding

it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that they prefer him over Suna, and while normally Suna wouldn’t give a damn about any of that, he can’t help but wonder if you feel the same way, if seeing Haru tonight made you regret breaking up with him in the first place

the two of you were high school sweethearts, after all; how can Suna hope to compare to that?

it puts him in a sour mood for the rest of the night, one that lasts throughout the rest of the reception and continues on your drive home

“Are you okay, Rin?”

Suna barely spares you a glance when you speak, keeping his eyes planted firmly on the road in front of him. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? Because you’ve been acting weird since the reception.”

“It’s nothing.” That’s a lie, of course, and you both know it. He’s been giving you the cold shoulder ever since you got in the car, the silence that’s settled between you nothing like the easy banter and teasing jokes you normally exchange on the way home. “I’m just tired.”

The rational part of him, the one he doesn’t always listen to, knows it isn’t fair for him to act this way. He’s being petty and immature, neither of which are reactions you deserve right now, but he can’t help it.

Being vulnerable has never been easy for Suna. It still isn’t, if he’s being honest, which is why, instead of talking to you about his feelings, he chooses to ignore them completely, burying them somewhere deep inside himself that even he can’t reach, despite the way his heart sinks and his hands tighten on the steering wheel the more he thinks about what your family said.

He doesn’t have to look at you to know that you’re frowning. You’ve always been able to see right through him, so of course you know that something’s bothering him, no matter how hard he tries to convince you otherwise.

He still hasn’t looked at you, but he imagines you sitting in the passenger seat with your arms crossed over your chest, furrowing your brows the way you always do when you can’t figure something out. “Did my family say something to you?”

He lets himself glance at you long enough to flash you a tight smile, a forced curving of his lips that doesn’t meet his eyes. “Nothing worth repeating.”

Your eyes narrow at his words, lips parting like you want to say something else, but then he’s pulling up in front of your apartment building and parking the car, and the moment is gone. The silence follows you into the lobby, up the elevator and all the way inside your shared apartment.

Suna quickly decides that he hates this kind of silence. He hates how bothered he still is about you and your stupid ex even more. Mostly, he hates the distance he feels between you now, even though he knows it’s one of his own creation.

He wants nothing more than to get rid of it, to lay his head in your lap and tell you exactly why he’s so upset while you stroke his hair and comfort him, but doing so would require him to be honest about his feelings, and you both already know how shitty he is at that. And the last thing Suna wants to do right now is start a fight, especially when he already feels like he’s not good enough for you.

You must sense his hesitance, because in the end, you’re the one that comes to him. You corner him while he’s sitting at the edge of your shared bed, approaching him with the same amount of care and delicateness you’d use with a stray cat.

You’re both still wearing your wedding clothes, but neither of you seems to care much about that right now. You push his jacket off his shoulders and he lets you, watching as you fold it with careful hands and set it neatly down on the bed next to him.

You move to stand in front of him, resting your hands on his shoulders. Suna finds himself shifting almost automatically to accommodate you, spreading his thighs so you can stand comfortably between his legs.

Then you’re running your fingers through his hair, nails scraping gently against his scalp in just the way he likes, and whatever ideas he had before about keeping his feelings to himself and suffering in silence immediately vanish from his brain. He’s nothing but putty in your hands right now, and all it took was one measly touch from you.

You’re good at that, Suna thinks. You’re good at softening him, at making him feel safe and loved, like he can tell you anything without being judged. It’s one of the things he loves the most about you.

It’s also why, despite his earlier hesitance, he allows himself to melt into your touch. He wraps his arms around your waist and buries his face against your stomach while you continue to run your fingers through your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head every now and then.

The two of you stay like that for a while, just holding each other and breathing in sync. Then you’re tugging gently at his scalp, coaxing him into looking up at you with your fingers in his hair. He goes willingly, always, for you.

“Are you ready to talk about it now?” you ask, soft and seeking, free of any judgment.

“You’re gonna think it’s stupid,” Suna mumbles, chin tucked securely against your body.

You press a soothing kiss to his forehead for good measure. “Try me.”

And though the thought of baring his feelings so openly still makes him kind of queasy, he does it anyway, relenting. “I didn’t know your ex was gonna be at the wedding.”

“Who, Haru? That’s who this is about?” You blink as genuine surprise laces your features, as if you’ve actually forgotten about your ex entirely, which pleases Suna more than he cares to admit. “He’s friends with my cousin. We all grew up together. I thought I told you that.”

“You did.” The smile he gives you is curt and tight-lipped. It doesn’t reach his eyes. “You just didn’t tell me how devastated your family was when the two of you broke up.”

“So they did say something to you, didn’t they?” You shake your head, understanding flashing in your eyes as your lips curve into a frown. “Who was it? Wait, don’t tell me– Aunt Eri?”

“The one and only,” Suna confirms, much to your chagrin. “She and Haru’s mom were convinced the two of you were meant to be, and that you were –get this– absolutely perfect for each other.”

The words taste sour in his mouth, a bitterness filling his voice that he only hopes you know isn’t directed towards you. Thankfully, you don’t seem to take any offense to it. If anything, you look upset for him, your jaw dropping and eyes widening in disbelief which quickly turns to anger at your own aunt’s audacity.

“Oh, no. Rin, baby, I’m so sorry,” you say, and he can tell from the look in your eyes how much you mean it. “They had no right to say any of that, least of all in front of you.” You lift a hand to cup his cheek and shake your head, eyes soft and apologetic. “I can only imagine how shitty it was to hear.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, frowning at the memory, “no kidding.” But he leans into your touch anyway, brushing his lips against your palm so you know he doesn’t blame you. “That’s not really the part that bothered me, anyway.”

You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head curiously. “Then what did?”

Suna already knows the answer, but he wants to hear it from you, which is why he takes a deep breath and asks, “Why did you and Haru break up?”

“We were going to different colleges,” you reply, confirming what your aunt told him. “We agreed it was the best thing for the both of us.”

And though it’s exactly the answer he was expecting, that still doesn’t make hearing it hurt any less. He swallows the lump in his throat and looks away, voice quieting. “So if you never broke up with him back then, you’d probably still be with him right now.”

“And if I won the lottery when I was eighteen the way I hoped I would, then I’d probably be single and in Madrid right now,” you shoot back easily, without missing a beat. “What’s your point?”

Suna frowns, fixing you with a pointed look. “Your family likes him. I mean, they really, really like him. Way more than they like me.”

“Well, then,” you lean forward, lips curving up into a smile, “I guess it’s a good thing you’re dating me and not any of them, isn’t it?”

He shakes his head, the frown on his face deepening even further. “You don’t get it. The only reason the two of you didn’t work out is because of bad timing, not because you didn’t love him anymore.”

“But that’s the thing. I don’t love him anymore, Rin. I love you and only you,” you insist. “I’m not the person I was when Haru and I were together. I grew up. I went to college, I moved out on my own, and then we met, and I fell in love with you.”

“That’s exactly my point,” he argues. “None of that would’ve ever happened if you hadn’t broken up with him. If he’d reached out to you while you were still in college, then you and I wouldn’t even be together right now.”

“But he didn’t, and he won’t. And even if he did now, it wouldn’t matter, because the only person I’m in love with is you.”

Your voice is steady, firm, leaving little room for argument. He tries anyway, opening his mouth to speak again, but you silence him with a finger pressed to his lips. And though Suna still isn’t completely convinced you’re what he deserves, he listens, quieting down long enough to hear you out properly.

“Rin, baby, if we sit here and argue about all the what if’s, we’ll always find some kind of excuse for why we couldn’t have been together,” you reason. “But we are, so why does it matter? We’re here together now, and I chose you– because I wanted you. I still want you.”

He watches, heart full and racing, as you settle yourself into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, knees on either side of his thighs. He doesn’t hesitate to welcome you, hands resting on your hips, the weight of you warm and familiar in his arms.

“Do you still want me?” you ask, as if you don’t already know, as if there was ever any doubt.

And that, he quickly realizes, is exactly the point you’re trying to make, because no matter what happened in the past, no matter who the two of you have been with before this, he’s the one you’re choosing now, just like you are for him.

“More than I know what to do with,” he answers, reaching a hand up to your face to brush his thumb across your cheek.

“Then it’s settled. Everything else is just background noise.” You kiss him, then, deep and wanting, and it’s all he can do to kiss you back, longing and eager. You smile when you pull away, a sweet, loving thing he feels like an idiot for ever even doubting in the first place. “Okay?”

And Suna smiles, relieved, resting his forehead against yours.

“Okay.”

Written by: Dawn & Luna

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wroteclassicaly · 6 months ago

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A/N: I’ve missed this man. I hope you like? Next part will have some saucy little smut. Just trying this out first, also for self-indulgence.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, language, mentions of injuries, self-esteem issues, mentions depression and body image.

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Plus size!Reader

Eddie Munson loves his new band of misfit friends, an extended family that has welcomed him and Wayne in with open arms. Hell, he’s even getting along with Harrington, Wheeler is tutoring him, and everyone else just understands. And then, well… Then there is you. He’s never seen someone so in tune with the needs of others without ever considering herself. Someone who purposely pushes herself on the world’s hottest back burner to avoid opening up and letting anyone truly see what’s going on… Behind incredibly beautiful eyes, if Eddie does say so himself.

It’s been over a year since shit unfolded with Vecna. They lost, he died for a little while, the apocalypse reigned down on the town and then he wasn’t dead anymore. Memories are vague, but most things he does remember. And when he wakes up tangled in his bedsheets, scars aching with prickles of phantom pains - you are the only person that he calls. A lot of times he ends up singing you to sleep, but it’s not without you always making sure he’s calmed and okay first.

It was a bond that grew since you began caring for him when he came back with memories. He’s lost track of days spent together, lunches shared, a graduation a long time coming, complete with a party he never expected to have. He isn’t sure when it became a deeper feeling than he’s ever known, one that scared him so damn bad he avoided you for days and began physically ill because of it. If Eddie Munson has to pick one moment, it was probably that day you walked into his Uncle’s living room, (a cookout happening in his yard with Steve and Wayne at the grill outside) your beautiful curves on display, a cherry sundress hitting you in all the right places, and some strappy red sandals adorning your feet. You wore a glowing smile beneath your bright red lipstick, energy matching with Henderson’s as you entertained his enthusiasm for Hellfire’s next campaign.

You didn’t have a clue of what you were talking about, but it didn’t deter you in the slightest. You were passionate about writing, you enjoyed Sci-Fi and fantasy, which meant you had to be the one who helped Dustin create new characters. He knew the game, you had some extra creativity to lend. You’d high fived Dustin, stealing his pen to jot down your scribbled suggestions on his spiral sheet. Eddie was a goner.

And now… Here you are, at his house, on a Friday night. You didn’t have plans, you didn’t make a date - nothing. You did what you normally do and called him up, accepting his invite to hang out all evening. He’d made sure to be off work by a steady time, picking up your favorite bakery cookies at the store on the way home, lingering over flowers that he was sure he should get, but knew it would probably cross a line if he did so. Eddie doesn’t want you to feel spooked, or even anything remotely close to uncomfortable around him.

You’re sitting above him, cross-legged on his bed as he rests with bent knees at the foot, your overalls bagging out at the sides to show your crop top with little lemons and daisies printed all over it, and the most delicious, overflowing curves Edward Munson has ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. He’s got a pair of your maroon sweats tied down, extremely loose on his narrow hips, and one of your decorative character shirts with a picture of Eeyore plastered front and center, hanging across his torso. You might not be able to wear his clothes, but he can wear yours, and Eddie would be stupid to say he doesn’t notice your eyes crossing a little whenever he steps into some of your ensembles. You’ve been chattering away at the TV, giving your input on Friday the 13th part 2, whilst being blissfully unaware of sending Eddie to heaven with your pink brush running through his freshly washed curls, your neon yellow painted nails scratching at his scalp. He’s like a mother fucking purring cat in your grasp.

“So, anyways… I can’t figure out if Muffin survived or if that was her in the woods. And did Paul really make it out too, or was Jenny imagining shit?”

Eddie smirks, tilting his head back to look at the curvature of your physique, the contours of your face - upside down (no pun intended). “Haven’t you seen this movie, like, a thousand times before?”

You have a mock look of offense. “Hmph.” He doesn’t like what it brings, because you can tease, but please - for the love of all things unholy - don’t stop brushing his hair.

“Hey, hey. Why’d you quit?” He’s pouting, it’s rather cute. One tattooed arm, decorated with scars - elongates, ring clad hand seeking out your wrist. Anything to get you into motion again.

“You know that you can brush your own hair, Eddie.” You’re melting at those fluttering lashes draped over an enriching, smooth chocolate pair of irises. And his mouth… Fuck.

“But it’s so much better when you do it, sweetheart. Pleaseeeee? Forgive me for questioning your brilliant questions!?”

You make a good show of it, tossing the brush out of your hand, it landing a pile of Eddie’s clothes in an unpacked hamper. They’re clean, but he’d rather wear yours. He gasps, shifting positions so quick that you think Steve must’ve Ninja-fied him. He’s got you by your wrists, the cool of his rings tracking across your arms as they follow warm palms, and dip under your pits to gain leverage - easing you forward into a heap onto the carpeting with him. “Freak attack!” He’s gleeful, tickling your denim clad sides (well, at least where he pretends he can’t see the overspilling flesh more closely now).

He smells good, like that familiar Old Spice wash and whatever shampoo he’s lathered his curls with. He’s hovering, he’s incredibly warm, he’s safe, he’s Eddie. Someone you didn’t know you needed until he appeared and retrieved his piece of your heart, snapping it into the place where all the people you love have their own shards. Hmm, not entirely though. If you could describe it, it’s as if they make up the outside lining, keeping the inside of your heart reserved for a more… Different, private type of love, that only Eddie Munson seems to have found.

“Should spank your ass with that thing for stoppin’,” he starts, interrupting your reverie, moving to shut his mouth when he realizes he crossed a line. Maybe? It’s there, your eyes flicker over his lips, your hidden reaction dancing behind your pretty little temple - he sees, giving him a fraction of hope. He isn’t used to this…

You jolt, blurting out the first thing that comes to mind, “Like that would be a punishment,” you finish, effectively crossing that line for him.

Both of you remain silent, your sweet perfume making him lose focus. What he thinks he should do and what he wants to do, those are two very different battles raging inside.

// Eat me paragraph //

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