#mower mouth

[yerchokito]

megumi is a stubborn boy, true to the spirit of teenage angst.

well, to others that is.

he’s clingy once you know him well enough, loyal and needy for your affection. akin to a dog (don’t say that to his face though).

it’s a quiet night, yuuji’s face is smooshed on the ground, drooling and all, nobara is surrounded by a barricade of pillows, a ‘wall of protection’ she would put it.

oh if only the others were awake to see such a cutesy sight of their dearest friend, megumi fushiguro!

you’re on your back, his cheek is resting on your stomach, fingers kneading your lower back like a cat kneading biscuits. his hair is tangled and still defying the laws of physics as you try to comb your fingers through.

he sleepily groans, trying to bury himself into your stomach for warmth, arms now wrapping around your body, squeezing tightly.

he frowns in his sleep, brows-a-furrowed, looking like an angry crow. you giggle, seeing a clingy megumi and now a pouty megumi, could this day (night but wtv) get any better?

oh he’s such a cutie.

bringing a hand down towards his forehead, you massage at the crease of his furrowed eyebrows, magically relaxing his flawless face.

he breathes out a sigh, now softening into a sleepy puddle. snoring slightly and drooling on you.

his slender hands unconsciously rub at the small of your back, nearing inappropriate territory but you’ll let it slide just once.

bringing your hand back to his untameable mane, you sleepily play with his silky strands until you yourself drift off into dreamland

a night with the trio can never fail to relax you.

until a law mower like snore comes from yuuji, making you want to tape his mouth shut (maybe you should..)

[lokis-army-77]

Sweet Treat

older!Eddie Munson x fem reader

Word Count: 3.4k

It's hot out and you see your older neighbor mowing his lawn. Lucky for you he invites you inside for a sweet treat.

Warning: 18+ I will block you if you are under 18 or have no age in your blog. oral (f receiving), p in v, fingering, like the slightest amount of food play, 40s eddie, 20s reader, fem reader, just a bit of cum eating

Thank you to my beta readers @munson-blurbs, @lofaewrites, @emma-munson and @littlexdeaths

Masterlist

It was sweltering outside, like hell was no longer a fictional place made up by religion but real, and its flames had reached Hawkins. The sun beat down on you so intensely that you thought your skin was melting. 

You berate yourself for thinking that taking a walk outside in the middle of summer would be anything but awful and yet you're here.

Sweat dripped from your forehead as you finally made it back to your home, but instead of going straight inside something stopped you in your tracks.

Your neighbor, or your hot older neighbor, had started mowing. The sound of the motor roaring to life caught your attention, and the sight of the 45-year-old without his shirt on kept it. 

The sun shining onto his sweat-soaked skin made him look ethereal, like a god on earth. It made your mouth water and your nerves vibrate. 

He caught your eye a moment later and waved, you waved back and then made yourself look busy by checking your mailbox, nothing was there. You didn't want him to know you were gawking at him. 

It must not have worked because as soon as the mower had turned on, it turned off and you heard your name being called in that deep timber.

You walk down your driveway, closer to where he sat on his machine.

"Hi, Mr. Munson," you greeted with a smile.

He sighs, "Thought I told you to call me Eddie."

You respond with a giggle, "I know, I just do it to aggravate you."

"Ah, so you think you're funny?"

"Oh, I know I am."

Eddie just chuckles at that, shaking his head. 

Reaching a hand up, you wipe the sweat from your brow. 

"Sure is hot." 

"It is. You wanna come inside, I've got some cold water and a bit of butter pecan ice cream if you want any." He offers.

You wrinkle your nose, "Butter pecan? That's such an old man flavor." 

"No, it isn't." 

"Yes, it is. The only people who eat and enjoy butter pecan are over the age of 40." You enjoy the banter that usually flows between the two of you. It makes your stomach flutter and your knees weak. 

He just rolls his eyes. "Well then, Sweetheart, I think I have just a bit of chocolate in the freezer with your name on it."

You finally walk up next to him as he stands from the mower. "Don't I just feel special."

Eddie looks at you smugly. “Ladies first.” He gestures for you to walk in front of him and you oblige. 

There’s a swing to your hips that you hope catches his attention, especially with how much skin is exposed from the workout shorts you were wearing. You hear him cough, clearing his throat and you know it worked. 

“Door’s unlocked,” he calls as you bound up the stairs. 

Upon entering the house you’re hit with a blast of cold air. The AC was definitely turned down as far as it could go, it felt almost like a freezer.

Eddie enters only a moment after you, letting the door slam closed. He glides past you, a hand barely grazing our hip as he does. You follow him closely. 

It's bright enough in the kitchen that he doesn't bother flipping the light on. He heads straight for the fridge. 

Your eyes rake over him, taking in the flex of muscles as he bends to open the sliding freezer door. The way his arms bulge when he rummages through the depths had your mouth watering. 

Giving a long sigh, Eddie stands up straight and turns to you with a pint of ice cream in hand. 

“Looks like it's just old people ice cream if the princess is alright with that.”

“Oh, it's princess now?” You ask, taking a seat on the barstool next to the kitchen island. 

Eddie shrugs, “Fits better since you're apparently too good for the best ice cream known to man.”

“I am not.” 

He scrunches his face, you think it's cute. “I beg to differ.”

“I'm not, I'll eat your ice cream, no problem.”

“So you aren't going to complain that it's for old people?” He asks, settling at the counter next to you.

“Just open the carton.” You give his arm a slight shove. 

He does as you say and pushes it closer to you before offering a spoon. 

You take it and thank him before scooping a tiny bit of the sweet treat out. It's cold on your tongue and you hate to admit it but it was good. 

“S'good isn't it?”

“Eh, it's okay.” You say, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being right. 

Taking another scoop, this time you bring the spoon slowly into your mouth, lapping up the ice cream in a more sensual manner as you make eye contact with the other man. Just barely, you can see his pupils dilate taking you in.

“You’ve got a little-” Eddie makes a vague gesture to the corner of his mouth.

Giggling a bit, you fein ignorance of the ice cream you let collect at the corner of your mouth. “Here?” you ask as you wipe at the opposite side. 

And just as you thought he would, Eddie reaches over and smoothes his thumb over your lip, collecting what was there. Your breath hitches when he brings his thumb to his mouth and licks it clean. The sight of his tongue wetting the digit and the glisten of saliva in the light had your legs clenching. 

You want him to do it again. 

So, with another bite of ice cream, you make what you’re doing more obvious, letting the spoon paint the white treat over your lips. You know what it must look like, salacious and borderline inappropriate if your mind was in the gutter, which is where you know Eddie’s is at that moment.

He takes a deep, shaky breath, “Fuck-” He’s surging toward you before you can even comprehend it. Soft, plump lips connect with yours. You freeze in shock for just a moment, then you kiss him back. 

The spoon in your hand drops to the counter, rattling loudly. You reach your arms around his neck and pull him into you. Eddie slips his tongue between your lips and lets out a groan. He tastes like butter pecan and something you can’t quite place, something you can only describe as Eddie. 

You can’t get enough and just when you start to wrestle your tongue against his, he pulls away and creates a space between the two of you. 

A hand rubs over his face and he sight. “We can’t be doing this.” His tone is reluctant.  

Furrowing your brows, you ask, “Why not?” 

Eddie looks at you and flits his eyes from your kiss-swollen lips to the dismayed expression in your eyes. “Are you serious? I’m too old for you.”

“Last I checked, 45 wasn’t that old.”

“Sweetheart, I have tattoos older than you.” He shakes his head.

“Eddie, I’m a grown adult who knows what she wants and to put it frankly, you have been at the top of that list for quite some time.” You pause to examine his expression. His brow is cross and he’s gnawing on the inside of his cheek. “Is it my consent that you need? Because you have it.”

“God, this is probably a bad idea,” he whispers to himself and then he's on you once more. His large hands squeeze at your waist until they find their way under the fabric of your tee. Your own hands cling to his shoulders, keeping yourself balanced so you don’t fall off the bar stool.

Eddie bites your lip, tugging it lightly when he pulls away. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you. How long I’ve wanted to have my hands on you, to feel you.” He says, breathless. 

He kisses down your neck, sending a shiver down your spine and a tingle wherever his lips meet your skin. 

“Eddie-” You moan. 

“Hum?” 

“I want you to do more than kiss me.”

That stops him in his tracks. He pulls away for a second time and you can’t help the whimper it brings out of you. 

“You’re sure?” 

As much as you were grateful for his concern, it was really getting in the way of you trying to have him fuck the daylights out of you. 

“Yes, I’m sure.” You pull him in for a deep kiss before whispering against his lips, “So, are you going to fuck me or am I going to have to take matters into my own hands?”

The smirk he gives you is cocky. “C’mere, Sweetheart.” He grabs at you, pulls you from the stool, and moves you to the island countertop. He wastes no time in ridding you of your shirt and bra. 

His tongue licks a long, wet line from the side of your neck down to the elastic waistband of your shorts. 

Slowly but surely, he begins to pull the fabric down Your legs. He stops in surprise when He sees you aren't wearing anything underneath. 

A deep chuckle vibrates in his chest. “Did you know this would happen, Sweetheart?” He left an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of your thigh. “Hum? Plan to seduce me with those short fucking shorts only to not have any panties on?”

Shaking your head you mumble out “No.”

“It sure does look like it, princess.” Eddie teases you with his fingers, using them to spread you open gently. His eyes glaze over with lust. “Fuck, baby… so pretty and wet for me.”

The sudden rush of arousal washes over you, leaving your skin flushed and your cunt fluttering around nothing.

He leaves wet kisses all over the sensitive skin, moving from your apex to your thigh, right where the artery was. Taking the plush meat there into his mouth, he sucked, soothing his tongue over where his teeth bit down gently. There was no doubt a mark would be there when he pulled away. 

You watch him, elbows planted on the counter to prop yourself up. Just looking at him makes your heart beat faster. 

“Eddie,” you moan as you widen your legs. 

He hums against you as he sucks his way back to your center. With lidded eyes, he looks up at you just as his mouth attaches to your clit. 

Choking out a gasp, you let your head fall back between your shoulders. 

Eddie’s hands wrap around the back of your legs, gripping them firmly and guiding them over his shoulders. The noises coming from where he was connected to you had butterflies fluttering in your stomach. He'd only just started but it felt like with every even suck and precise lick of his tongue, You were melting into a puddle around him. 

Soon your arms became weak and you had to lay flat. Your hands had a mind of their own as your body writhes under Eddie's expert mouth. His hair quickly fell from the loose knot that kept it out of his face when you ran your hands through it. 

You could tell Eddie liked it too much, hips bucking into nothing When you tugged on the salt and pepper strands. His moans sent vibrations through you. 

“Eddie, fuck, Eddie- you feel so good,” you can't help but babble when you feel two thick fingers begin to penetrate your entrance. 

There's an audible pop when he releases you from his mouth. “Yeah? Imagine how good my cock's gonna feel, Sweetheart.” He removes your legs from his shoulders as he begins to stand.

Tilting your head, you gaze at him. Following down his nose, over his wet lips, down along the tattoo of a sneak that started at his shoulder and curled down his bicep. With him closer now, you could see more of those tattoos littering his skin and the trail of hair that led from his navel down. 

You clench around his fingers at the thought of whatever was hiding behind those basketball shorts. You wanted it, needed it, inside of you. 

Eddie's fingers massaged into you, the calloused pads pushing into your soft insides. “Right there!” You pant when he pushes into a particularly sensitive spot. “Right there! Don't stop!”

He doesn't, he keeps a strong steady pace with his fingers hitting the mark every single time. It had your toes curling and your head swirling with pleasure. 

Unknowingly, you clamped your hand over your mouth as you began to moan.

Eddie pushes your hand away. “Don't cover those pretty moans, wanna hear how good I make you feel.”

Nodding, you keep your hands away. Occupying one by gripping your breast and the other, slipping it down to massage over your clit. 

The added stimulation makes your legs snap shut and your body goes ridged. You were hurled over the edge so fast that your vision was almost white. 

Eddie kept his fingers pumping into you despite the added obstacle. You could hear the wet sound growing louder as your body shook with release and your lungs cried out. 

“That's it, princess, give it all to me.”

“Eddie-” you cry out to him. “Feels- ah fuck, I feel so good.”

He hums in approval.

“You make me feel so good.”

Eddie pulls his fingers from your dripping cunt and licks them clean. “God, you're delicious. Put that ice cream to shame.” 

He pulls you by your hips down the counter, closer to him, and places a firm kiss on your lips. You'd never liked the taste of yourself before but that salty tangy mixed with the sweetness of Eddie's tongue had you melting and wanting for more.

You want to feel him inside of you. No, it's not a want, it's a need. A need so strong you think you might cry if you don't have I'm in the next five seconds. 

Pulling away, you give Eddie a look. One so filled with lust and longing, you know he won't be able to resist.

“What is it, princess?” He asks, moving back in to kiss marks on your neck. 

Your fingers tug on his hair and you sigh. “I need-”

“What do you need?”

“I need you to fuck me.” The buck of your hips punctuated every word.

“S'that right, Sweetheart? Need me to use this pretty cunt?”

You groaned, nodding excitedly when he started backing up. As he did so, he knocked over what was left of the ice cream. It was melted now and its contents flowed onto the counter.  

Eddie smirked as he took the carton and instead of sitting it back up, he poured it onto your skin. The splashes of the now liquid dessert were cold on your hot skin. He gives you a salacious wink before lapping up what he had tipped onto you.

“Eddie!” You gasp, surprised by his actions. 

He paced you no mind, cleaning the stickiness from your skin, and pulled back. Acting as though nothing had happened, he began tugging at the drawstring of his shorts. 

The outline of his cock was impressive, you had always imagined it would be the biggest you'd ever had. And as his shorts and boxers fell from his hips down his toned legs, you were proven right. 

Saliva pooled in your mouth at the sick of him. Long and thick and stood at attention. Your eyes flicked from the flushed tip of his cock to his eyes and then back down again a few times before he chucked. Asking “See something you like?” 

“Yeah…” you were breathless just looking at it. 

Anticipation begins to build, your heart beating faster as he lined himself up. Your legs spread wider, letting Eddie nestle in. He gives the sensitive skin a tap with his cock before sliding it through your slick folds. 

“Ready, baby?” 

“Yes, please.”

As he enters, there's a slight pain. He's thicker than anything you've ever taken and the new stretch has you burning.  He isn't even halfway inside before you start shaking and mewling in ecstasy.

Eddie's fingers have your hips in an iron grip. He looks out a long moan once he bottoms out. There is the sensation of being filled to your absolute max.

Your walls are contracting around him, trying To pull him in deeper. 

“Fuck. That's it, baby, taking me so well. So proud of you.” 

You keen into his praise. Hips bucking and back arching. 

“Need more,” you plead and he obliges, rocking his hips into you, starting slow before going into an almost inhuman speed. pleasure is all that you feel, all that you know in this moment.

With every thrust, you saw Eddie lose just a little more self-control until he was feral, pounding into you. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Feel so fucking good baby. Yeah, that's right, this pussy was made for me, wasn't it? God dammit.” He'd lost his filter, saying anything and everything that came to his mind. 

You were loving it. No man had ever been so vocal with you before and it was such a turn-on to hear every grunt, moan, and whimper.

There's a flutter in your stomach that you know all too well. You're balancing on the edge and are so close to toppling over. 

“Eddie. Eddie. Eddie!” You've run out of words, all you can manage to say is his name. It's like a prayer on your lips. 

“I know, Sweetheart.” He tuts, voice out of breath. “Can feel you squeezing me. God, you’re so fucking tight.” His fingers grip your hips harder. “Need you to cum for my baby, can you do that?”

You nod frantically. “Yes, yes, yes,” you say as his thrusts continue, finally giving you that last little nudge you need to fall. 

With eyes rolling back in your head and a ringing in your ears, you cum. Harder than you ever had before. You're so lost in the feeling that you can't hear yourself screaming rapture. Every feeling is intense like hitting a raw nerve but it's so enjoyable.

Eddie's thrusts slow to a stop before he reluctantly pulls from your warmth and tugs himself to completion.  You can feel the warm ropes quickly cooling on your stomach and breasts when you finally come back to reality.  

“God dammit.” Eddie rasps. 

You can't help but laugh, “My thoughts exactly.”

Fixing your eyes on your stomach. You take a finger and collect Eddie's cum onto it. He watches you with wide eyes as you bring the finger to your mouth. It's not your favorite taste but you moan nonetheless.

“Thanks for the sweet treat, Mr. Munson.” Your face heats up over what you've said.

Eddie chuckles and shakes his head at you before giving you a fond look. Even though you were spread out on his kitchen counter covered in drying cum, you'd never felt more comfortable. You can see when Eddie hesitates ever-so-slightly before he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

It was sweet, you thought. You nod giving him the go-ahead. 

He pulls you up by the hand you give him and his mouth is on you in a tender kiss. Much too tender for what you had both finished doing. 

His hands massage into the sides of your face and neck and your own slide into his hair, tugging the fallen strands at the nape of his neck. 

When he pulls away, you follow him hot wanting his lips to leave yours. He gives you a quick peck before stepping back. 

You pout but he soothes you. “I'll be back. Gonna get a cloth to clean you up.” 

It only takes him a moment to return to you, warm rag in hand. It feels nice to have all the sweat and other fluids wiped from your skin, it feels even nicer with Eddie the one doing it. 

A yawn escapes you when he’s finally done and helps you off the counter. 

“Tired?” He asks. 

“Yea-” You were cut off by another big yawn, it brings involuntary tears to your eyes. Rubbing your eyes, you sigh, “I guess I better get home.” Bending down, you reach for your clothes that had made a home on the floor. 

“Or,” Eddie stops you, “You could stay here.” 

 The statement was more of a question with his hopeful look and light tone. 

You can’t help the blush that makes its way onto your cheeks. “I think I’d like that.” 

“Good. Now leave those there, I have something more comfortable you can wear.” 

[p0orbaby]

blurb idea- r is spanish and plays for arsenal, one day she finds leah on duolingo trying to learn spanish and finds it so sweet and leah is just emberrased and lalalla and then r convinces leah to let her teach leah spanish (sorry if it’s confusing😔😔)

it wasn’t confusing 🤍

-

The training ground is quiet, still wrapped in early-morning fog, and you don’t expect to hear anything but the hum of the groundskeeper’s mower. Instead, you catch a voice, stiff and deliberate, coming from the gym.

“Yo bebo… el agua?”

You pause at the door, peeking in. Leah’s standing by the weights, holding her phone at arm’s length like it might bite her. Her brow is furrowed, mouth moving around the clunky syllables like she’s trying to chew them into shape. You’re about to say something when she suddenly groans and yanks her headphones out. The familiar ding of Duolingo announcing another failed attempt echoes in the room.

“La niña’ what?” she mutters, more to herself than anyone else. She hasn’t noticed you yet. “How am I supposed to remember if she’s drinking milk or eating an apple? Who drinks milk anymore?”

“Leah?” you finally speak, trying to keep the laughter out of your voice.

Leah jumps, nearly dropping her phone. Her face turns pink immediately, the kind of flush that spreads to her ears and down her neck. “Oh, God. How long have you been standing there?”

“What are you doing?” you ask, even though you know perfectly well what you’ve walked into.

Leah groans, stuffing her phone into her hoodie pocket like the evidence of her crime can be erased. “Nothing”

You raise an eyebrow. “Nothing? Because it looked like you were arguing with Duolingo about la niña’s dietary habits.”

She flushes deeper, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing outright. “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Oh? So you weren’t learning Spanish on the sly?”

“I—” she pauses, caught. “Alright, fine. I was. Happy?”

You grin, stepping into the room. “Why?”

She shrugs, looking everywhere except at you. “I thought it might… I don’t know, be nice? For you”

That catches you off guard. “For me?”

“Yeah.” She scratches the back of her neck, a telltale sign that she’s embarrassed. “Because, you know, you’re always switching between Spanish and English so easily, and I just thought maybe I could… I don’t know, keep up”

Your heart softens despite yourself. “You could’ve just asked me, you know. I’d have helped”

Leah shrugs, suddenly fascinated with the floor. “Didn’t want to bother you”

“You? Never a bother,” you say lightly, stepping closer. “But if you’d rather an app keep roasting you, be my guest”

Her gaze snaps to yours, the ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips. “The owl’s ruthless, by the way. Keeps telling me I’m on the verge of linguistic failure”

You laugh, taking her hand and pulling her towards the weights bench. “Alright, let’s make a deal. I’ll teach you Spanish, but you have to actually listen to me. None of this owl nonsense”

“Deal,” she says quickly, her grin breaking through the last of her embarrassment. “But only if you promise not to tell the team about this”

“Cross my heart,” you reply, though you’re already imagining the look on the rest of the teams faces if they found out.

You sit yourself on the bench next to her, and start to teach her the basics. As she repeats the words after you, her accent is a disaster, but the determination in her eyes is unmistakable. And when she finally gets a phrase right, the way she beams at you makes your chest feel warm.

If this is her way of showing how much she cares, you’ll take it. Even if it means enduring her tragic attempts at rolling her r’s.

[breathinlove]

sticky fingers ellie williams

read this

synopsis: you and your best friend got popsicles on a hot day, but ellie finishes hers first.

cw: swearing, dialogue heavy at first, homoerotic friendship i fear, hinted themes, dirty minded hoes who act oblivious, a whole lotta mouth and tongue but no nothang but slighhhhhttttlyyy nsfw.

a/n: idk what this is it just came to me as i had a popsicle in the morning lmao... i js missed writing.

you're walking home with one of best friends, ellie, after a day at the park. it was a boring and oppressively hot day. you had bought yourselves ice lollies to help survive the sultry weather.

"is it good?" ellie speaks, pointing to your yellow popsicle.

"yeah, ellie, it's good." you say, matter-of-factly.

"i love pineapple." she looks away from you as you come closer to the crossing, both you looking to the sides of the road in sync.

“i know, me too." you reply shortly, not giving her the time of day, rapidly crossing the street. ellie stays silent, but not for too long.

"well..." she mutters when she catches your trail.

"yes?" you know what she wants but you still play dumb. you're not gonna give it to her.

“just a taste—" she starts whining, and you cut her off.

“nope." that's all you say in response.

you turn the stick horizontally as you get to the middle of the ice lolly, you suck on it and she's snorts heavily. she seems to drag her feet along the sidewalk.

“please, it's so hot out here.” ellie insists on the subject.

"it’s not my fault you fucking gobbled yours." you giggle, flicking her forehead.

she lets out a cartoon-like ‘ouch’ and she pushes your arm.

"bruh, it was small." ellie complains before wiping sweat off her nape, where strands of hair stuck onto.

“doooon't caaaare.” you smirk.

you bite the ice off the stick and she looks like she's mourning its loss. ellie loves pineapple artificial flavoring, despite choosing not to eat too much actual pineapple because when you two ate a bunch of pineapple slices together, you ended up with prickled tongues and mouth ulcers. it wasn't fun.

you can read her expression well enough to let out a chuckle, almost choking on the juice that pools inside your mouth. she clicks her tongue at the sound of slurping coming from you, she focuses on the noise of lawn mowers on your neighborhood instead, but they're just as annoying.

"ellie." you mutter with a heavy breath, she can hear what remains on your tongue moving. she hums in response.

you know ellie's annoyed. you were friends, but you were afraid that you had spoiled her. whenever you denied her anything, she'd catch an attitude. and you liked teasing her. you thought she looked cute when she'd look away from you with a serious face over something so small as a popsicle.

“lukami.” you say, he contorts her face in confusion, and you slurp at the juices to clear your words.

“look at me." you repeat, now coherently, grabbing her cheeks.

“yeah? what do you want?" she looks at you, and you take a disgustingly loud and final slurp.

ellie knows the pineapple stick is gone now, and she didn't even get to taste it. she pictured herself tasting it off your lips, or even your tongue. she wondered if she'd able to feel the refreshment if she sucked on your tongue after all the sucking you did on that popsicle.

“guess what?” you smile, she takes a little too long to answer and you wonder what goes through her mind.

but well, she's nasty, isn't she? she wanted it, no matter if it meant licking around one of her best friend's mouth. she's upset, but she knows it's silly.

“what?” she shrugs.

"i have popsicles at home.” you say excitedly and you look giddy, your sugary fingers still on her face.

“whatever," she looked away, forcing away from your hold. "get those sticky fingers away from me."

"that's a great album, by the way." you ignore her demand, chuckling.

you mess with her cheeks, smearing her with the syrup on your hand. you left a spot on her lips, she licked it. finally, she knows what it tasted like and she yearns for more.

“you're so messy, ya know?" she smiles wide.

you look at your hand as she grabs and holds it where it was, against her lips. you stop on your tracks completely, feeling her tongue stick out of her lips and coming in contact with the pad of your fingers, it tickles. you giggle.

she hums at the sweetness of it and looks up at you from your fingers, what a kid!

"ellie, please, what's wrong with you?" you laugh, and she does too. sugar puts her in a good mood.

“should've just let me taste it.” she speaks.

you would've thought she was done but ellie takes your index finger inside her mouth for shits and giggles, her warm as the day tongue massaging your finger as she sucks on it.

“you're so stupid.” you say, using minimal to no strength to push her face with the hand she entrapped. she smiles around your finger.

you feel the desire to slide your finger further into her mouth to wipe that shit-eating grin of her face. you imagined how ellie would look when she gagged on it, the shock in her eyes would be amusing, you assume. these thoughts run around your mind.

you think she might have an oral fixation by the looks of it,you look around, making sure no one was watching this seemingly obscenity.

"god, ellie.." you sigh in defeat when she flutters her eyes shut. you watch, mind running around her soft features and braking on her pursed lips, tainted red from her late watermelon popsicle.

then she releases your finger, after god knows how long (now that your fingerprint is practically part of her tongue’s muscle memory). you snap back to reality, freshly cut grass smell hitting your nose and unbearable sun hitting your skin.

ellie looks proud of herself.

"it really was good. what flavors you got at home?" she asks and starts walking again. you clean your now spit dirty fingers on your shirt and walk with her, enumerating the flavors of popsicles your dad had bought and stacked in the freezer.

[starboye]

Kinktober Day 31

starring: james mcavoy x male reader

request: James mcavoy fic where James is reader’s dad best friend and he is coming over to stay for the summer reader and James don’t really get along at first. But one night James comes out the shower while reader is still awake and James ends up fucking him and eating him out hard and has him worship James body through scent and kissing etc

warnings: smut, cursing, slightly rough sex, cumming untouched, pervy james, sweat kink, unprotected sex, creampie, ass eating, cum eating, slight muscle worship

directors note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN i hope you get a lot of candy or pass out a lot of candy and you better watch some scary movies tonight 🎃👻🍬🦇💀🧡

it's not that you hated james, it's just that he really just wasn't your kind of guy, when he came around he would always get you in a head look and mess up your hair or just 'jokingly' bully you and your dad never said anything to him about it, he just told you that's how james plays.

now he had to stay at your house for the whole summer after something happend with his house, i think it was something about he has renovations going on at his house, him staying in the guest room wasn't any better seeing as it was right next to your room and the walls were pretty thin so you would have to be extra quiet sometimes.

but god you had to admit when he was here he was so sexy, especially when he offered to mow the lawn and he was outside shirtless pushing the mower, sweat dripping down his muscles and abs looking like a greek god, when he came back inside you tried your hardest to hide the boner in your pants but it was kinda hard (pun intended) since it was painfully up right.

you thought james didn't see it until later that night when you thought everyone else in the house was asleep and came out of your room, accidentally bumping into a james who just got out of the shower, his arm subconsciously finding your waist out of pure instinct "oh shit sorry" you go to push off him but your hands couldn't move, to stuck feeling his chest and pecs.

seeing your infatuation with his body he picks you up by your thighs and take you back to your room "your dad's sleep right" he smirks above you pulling at the hem of your shorts "mhm" you nod and he takes the rest of your clothes off along with his towel revealing his girthy cock to you, whimpering at the sight of it making him even more eager to fuck you.

your legs instantly wrap around his waist "you want this cock bad huh" he chuckles and you nod up at him, his shoves his fingers into your mouth, wiping all around it before pulling the soaking things back out and bringing them to your hole, shoving one in then two then three and working them in and out of your to open you up nice and well for him before pulling them back out.

he looks down at you as he pushes his full length into you, your eyes widening in shock at the thickness of his dick, you were pretty shocked to think you were fucking your dads bestfriend but if it meant getting fuked by such a good cock you could give less than two fucks about it being wrong.

his hips start to snap into your ass, his tip hitting your gummy wall again and again, it was a little painful but it felt so good to stop, all you could do was let out little moan, small enough to be heard but not loud enough for your dad to hear and come see what the ruckus was "i saw that boner in your pants earlier today, such a pervy little guy" he taunts you as if he wasn't in his bestfriends sons ass right now.

"shut up please and just fuck me" you whine tightening you grip on his arms as he went harder into you "mmm fuck im cumming" you moan spurting your load all over your chest, head dropping back into the pillow a little dazed as james kept going "cumming without even jerking off? how much more of a perv could you be" he smiles and leans down to kiss you, his tongue maneuvering into your mouth and exploring it, his slightly sweaty scent was filling the room faster and faster with the mix of heat between you two.

your legs starting to go weak around his waist but still strong enough to keep him in you as he came, cum shooting up your ass as he bit back loud groans, pulling out of your messy hole he immediately went down to your ass and licked at it "push it out" he demands and you do so, pushing the load out your hole which he catches on his tongue and slurps up.

beginning to eat you out to get the rest of it, cleaning you up a little more around the hole before standing up "i take it this is gonna be a regular thing" you asks catching your breath "come to my room when your dad falls asleep and it will be" he responds putting the towel back on and walking out.

taglist:@mailmango @spermeboy @ghostking4m @gayaristocrat @addictedtomalepits @staarb0y @crispysoup318 @its-ares @gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune @fuckshft @wompwomp-1mh3re

[apartmentsmoke]

"It's okay if it grows a little," Buck called.

Tommy flashed him a grin and hollered back, "That's what he said." Buck's lips opened, ready to retort that he likes it best when things grow a lot, but the sound of his mortal enemy made the words die on his tongue. Ever since they'd gotten back together, since Tommy had cautiously extended the invitation to his place more often and Buck had grabbed it with both hands, Buck had learned a few more things about his boyfriend. Namely, that he would pit Tommy against any suburban father in a World's Best Lawn competition. He was thinking about sending out fliers and charging for admission. Tommy loved his lawn. Buck had endured several lectures on what led to his choice to plant bahia grass, namely its drought-resistant qualities and ability to thrive in poor soil conditions. Every second Tuesday morning, like clockwork, he took out his lawn equipment and began a multi-hour routine that would have made his drill sergeant proud. The lawn was boring, and if Buck heard another word about humidity conditions and what that meant for the grass, he'd poke out his own eardrums. But it did have one notable benefit, one Buck could enjoy with his other senses. Tommy liked to do all his lawn work shirtless.

Buck's eyes followed a bead of sweat running down Tommy's arm, highlighting the sun-warmed skin. Damn. He'd already run off Mrs. Troutman from three doors down once this month, and he was gearing up to it again. Though she'd made some killer snickerdoodles at the recent neighborhood block party, the first one Buck had been to. Maybe he'd trade her some Tommy ogling for the recipe. He followed the drop all the way down to Tommy's fingers, curled around the handle of the power edger. Wished they were curled around his cock, but not even the idea of sweet, unhurried morning sex could keep Tommy from his lawn. Maybe after. Buck's eyes dropped to the flex of Tommy's ass in his pants, how each muscle expanded and contracted as Tommy pushed the mower along. If he'd had his way, he'd be between them, tongue pushed up against muscle, tasting each movement. And then there was the small of Tommy's back, the dimples there made for Buck to press his thumbs into. When he'd woken, he'd seen the faint impression left by the last bruises he'd made there. Couldn't forgot Tommy's spine, either, each knob of it. The ones he held tension in, the ones he liked to hinge when Buck told him to present himself. They all offered opportunity. For Tommy to contort himself just so, for Buck to mouth at or run his cock down before he reached the cleft of Tommy's ass. Buck glanced around for neighbors and adjusted himself in his shorts.

When he looked back up, it was to the sight of Tommy's front, his chest on full display. The sun brought out the pink in his nipples, Buck thought, and he wanted to suck the color right out of Tommy's skin. As Tommy walked his way, going over his work, Buck's gaze trailed the length of hair that ran down Tommy's stomach, watched as Tommy's movements changed how it was presented to him. Each minute motion made Buck's fingers twitch. He was desperate to run them down that path, claim the treasure it advertised.

Tommy's approach drawing closer, Buck began to make out his individual freckles, the ones he'd made into constellations with his tongue. That damn edger, Buck thought wildly, it was the one keeping him from Tommy - aptly named machine - "Join me in the shower after I put this up?" Tommy called, holding the edger on his shoulders like a mountain man held an axe. Buck ached to lick between his pecs, the valley shiny with exertion. "Be right there," he said, and nearly tripped over his own feet getting up in his eagerness.

[after-the-end-times]

A Ride for the Ages

Rating: G 🚘Words: 453 🚘Tags: Older Steddie, Steve has a minor power, Still discovering things about each other after decades together, Slice of life For @steddiemicrofic Prompt: Ride Ao3

“Think we should take this old girl on the road?” Eddie said, patting Steve’s still pristine ‘83 BMW.

Steve pushes their suitcases into the back of their Prius, shutting it, and turning to Eddie. “Really? You want to drive five hours in that gas guzzler? You know she’s just for car shows these days.”

“Yeah, but you put so much time into keeping her perfect.” Eddie opens the door, gesturing inside. “Look at that detailing! I don’t even how you spend so much time out here and I never notice, ‘cause wow, babe, this is a lot of work. You’d never know she was nearly our age!”

Steve walks up, catching Eddie’s belt loops and pecking a kiss to his lips. “Thanks, baby. She does look good for her age. Hence the car shows. But don’t worry, you’re not missing anything, I really don’t put much time into upkeep.”

He walks back into their house to make sure they have everything for their drive. Eddie goes after him, following him around the house as Steve grabs random chargers, glasses, a book...

“Wait wait wait, Stevie what do you mean you don’t spend time keeping her pristine? I’ve talked to those other car guys, they spend hours on their cars.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what’s wrong with them, I just talk to her. Tell her she better keep working so she does, you know? Sure, sometimes I need to be more stern, but isn’t that the way with anything?”

Eddie stops, mouth dropping, eyes staring, thinking and befuddled. Things start clicking in his brain.

“Oh my god, is that how the toaster got fixed? And the mower? And that red triangle of death on the Prius? The one the mechanic had no explanation for?”

“Yeah well, sometimes something just needs a good talking to.” Steve says distractedly

“Steve Stevie baby honey, no no no, that’s not- how- what do you mean you give it a talking to and it just FIXES ITSELF? Things don’t do that!” Eddie’s voice gets progressively more shrieky as he starts to mildly freak out.

Steve finally realizes this is a Big Deal situation for Eddie, puts his pile down, and pulls him into a hug.

“Hey, it’s ok. I’m sure it’s just a coincidence. I don’t actually have powers, baby. If anyone was gonna get superpowers, it’d definitely be you.” Steve rubs Eddie’s back.

“I don’t believe you. You have magical fixing powers,” Eddie mumbled into Steve’s shoulder. He suddenly pulls back, eyes wide. “Wait. You kept the BMW nice, but not my first ride? That van was classic!”

“One, it was not a classic, it was a rust bucket.”

Eddie pouted, “And two?”

He shrugged. “It wouldn’t listen.”

[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: Thank you so much to all you for the loving and supporting the last twelve parts of this story🥹💜 you guys are the best !!! <<prev >>next

You don’t remember falling asleep, but the last memory was you watching an old rerun of a show you liked on the couch.

When you blinked your eyes open, you rise from the bed in the bedroom. You sat up, rubbing your eyes. You yawn and look over to find Paul gone.

You carry on your day, washing your body in the shower and getting dressed. The canvas that was empty, was soon marked by charcoal. A wave of sadness poured onto the artwork, as you thought about everything that transpired recently.

By the end, you were happy that you made something, but on the other hand, you didn’t like the circumstance it took for it to happen.

Walking to Emily’s, your mind goes a mile a minute. Thoughts of last night’s situation made you rethink things.

You close the door behind you as Emily smiles and greet you. It’s still pretty early in the day, the faint noise of neighbor’s lawn mowers buzz about.

She hands you a homemade muffin, you accept it, feeling the hunger take over in your stomach.

“Sam is gone?” you ask her, as she nods. You let her do most of the talking until Sam does come in. You don’t see Paul come in. After Sam is done embracing Emily with his mouth, you speak to him while wringing your fingers a bit.

“Can I talk to you really quick?” you ask him. He nods and pulls away from Emily as you both make your way outside on the porch.

“Everything alright?” he asks you once the air settles.

“I don’t know…You trust Emily right? To be able to still live life without being scared, right?” you ask him.

“I guess you can say that. She doesn’t know but..sometimes if she’s running errands I check on her to make sure she’s safe.” he reveals to you but gives you a look, “Is this about Paul?”

You nod, “I’m not going to pour our problems onto you or anything, but it’s frustrating to know that he wants me stagnant. I get there’s danger out there but I’m always honest about where I am.”

Sam nods in agreement, “You definitely should talk to him. He went to the basketball court if you’re looking for him.” he says and place a compassionate hand on your shoulder. He turns to walk away but stops, “Don’t let his wolf bully you.” he says. As he walks in the house, you make your way to the basketball court.

Sure enough he’s there but a trickle of people are there too. You catch sight of him and call to him. He pauses the game and walks out of the entrance of the court, meeting you. His face is still hardened.

“We have to talk.” you say to him, not softening your voice. You weren’t gracing him with any sort of politeness after what he did. He looks to the side and sighs softly, “About what.”

“A lot.” you tell him.

He looks to you, “I don’t want to argue. Seriously.”

“We’re not arguing. We’re talking.” you say with dominance that surprised both you and him. The look he gave you let you know you really had his undivided attention.

“Let’s sit here.” you tell him. You both sit on a bench. He rests his elbows on his knees as you cross your arms with your leg crossed over your next leg. You don’t take your eyes off of him as he doesn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Paul. I get you want to protect me. I really do. But, you can’t isolate me, thinking that’s the best way.” you start off.

“I’m not isolating you.” he says in denial.

“You are. You seriously got mad that I went with Emily to a bookstore instead of staying in the house.” you tell him, when he doesn’t say anything, you continue, “I’m not going to let you or anybody dictate what I can or cannot do. I’m honest about where I go so it’s not like I lie to you or anything. You call, I answer. You text, I answer. You just don’t trust me and it’s killing us.”

“I’m afraid, Y/N. I just don’t want anything to happen to you and I’m not there. That’s what will kill me.”

“Nothing’s going to happen. I don’t want you to keep speaking it into the air. I’ve been managing just fine even before you phased and we found out about all of this supernatural stuff.”

He sighs and looks ahead. He straightens up and leans back. His face is much more softening and he seemed to process the words from your mouth. He looks to you, “I’m sorry.”

“For?” you ask him.

“For.. Not trusting you.” he says.

“And?” you press on.

“And..Being angry with you. For making you feel bad, and being a bit controlling.” he says in a genuine manner.

You lean close to him, “A bit?”

This makes the corner of his lip rise a bit and he placed a hand on your knee as you lean your body to him. He then cups your chin and leans to give you a kiss but you pull back. His face looks as if he was a kid who just found out he isn’t getting anything for Christmas.

“You made me eat dinner alone. You’re not getting off that easy.” you tell him and he looks as if he is internally kicking himself. You rise up from the seat as he watched you with pitiful eyes.

“You can go back to your game. I swear, I will be at the beach.” you tell him and take his hands as he rises from the bench as well. He looks down at you with the same glum look.

But, it quickly replaces with a smirk when he says, “You sure you don’t want to watch me kick their asses?”

You softly chuckle as you give him a tight hug with your check pressed onto his chest. “I appreciate you, Paul. I really do. I love what we have.” you tell him and he hugs you back just as tight. He leans down and gives you a big kiss on the cheek anyway.

“I love what we have too.” he says softly back in your ear. Your stomach dance and flutter, filled with butterflies. You pull back to let him walk back to his match.

As you’re walking to the beach, you feel a buzz from your phone.

“Hey. Are you still at the beach ?”

You type back as the beach is almost in your view.

“Yeah. I actually just arrived.”

“Okay see you in a bit.”

You walk along, watching the water meet each other over and over again. The sea salt smell fill your nostrils as the feather light breeze dance on your skin.

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there, but you feel a tap. You turn around and Bella is standing there with the promised book in her hands.

“Hi.” you say to her and she smiles back, “Hey.”

She holds it out for you to take. You take it in your own possession, you look at it to see the book was definitely used. It wasn’t messed up but it was evident she read it time and time again.

“How many times have you read this?” you ask her chuckling.

“More than I can count.” she admits.

“Well, thank you. I will try not to hog it for too long.”

“Take your time. I come down here a lot anyways.” she tells you.

You walk to the fallen log that’s near by, she followed you. You both sit down.

“What’s Forks like?” you ask her.

She shrugs, “It’s so so. I miss home.”

“Where’s home?”

“Arizona. I lived with my mom but I came here to be with my dad.”

“What do you like to do besides reading?” you ask her, zeroing in on a pebble thats sunbathing in the sand.

“Um…Not much..I mean I cook if you count that.” she says.

“I guess.” you tell her with a humor tone, “What about friends? You don’t hang out?”

“Not much. I um…spend most of my time with my boyfriend anyway so..” she says shaking her head and looks down.

“Oh. Well, same here. Besides reading, I draw from time to time.”

“Really?” she asks, her eyes filled with interest.

You nod, “For payback I can let you look through my sketchbook.” you say.

“Awesome.” she says smiling.

Your mind then clicks. You ask her the question that’s now itching your brain. “What’s your boyfriend’s name?”

“Edward. You have one right?” she answers.

“Yeah. Paul.” you tell her trying to keep your even tone but you finally put two and two together when Edward’s name hit your ears. This was the Bella Swan they were talking about. The one who is dating a cold one. She never told you her last name. You start to feel nervous.

“He lives here in La Push?” she asks. You nod. “Where is Edward now?” you ask, you don’t know why but you just had to know. You didn’t know if this chick lured people to him.

“He’s on vacation for the summer.” she just says in an uninvolved tone, you quickly learned that she’s not a good liar, “You’re pretty lucky that you get to still see yours.” Even the blind could see she missed him.

“I guess…Well, I’m going to go meet him. I’ll see you around?” you tell her as you stand up. Her face is a bit sullen as she nods and then look and sees that you left the book on the log.

“Oh! Don’t forget this.” she says and put it in your hands.

“I’ll see if Jake’s home. I can give you a ride if you want.” she adds on.

“It’s okay. I’ll walk.” you tell her.

“Are you sure? I mean, it’s no problem. I’m sure he’s on the way.” she tells you.

That’s how you were in the passenger seat of her truck. The truck drove slow but you could tell she didn’t mind at all.

“Here is fine.” you tell her at the basketball court.

“Which one is he?” she asks as she looks over at the tense game. Her eyes followed their movements, knowing she would never be as athletic as them.

You point to the one who steals the ball with ease and dribble it down the court.

“Wait..That’s your boyfriend?” she asks, her hand is still on the wheel but she forms it onto a point.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing..It’s just that, I heard some things..That’s all.” she says and shakes her head trying to dismiss her case.

“That’s kind of funny..I heard some things too…” you say with a knowing look that had her stuck, “Thanks for the ride.” you tell her and close her truck door before she could say anything else.

“You all suck ass!” Paul laughs as he savors his new victory. All of the opposing team’s faces were fallen. He tosses their ball back to them. You put some of your fingers in the holes of the fence as Paul walks over to you and sighs happily, “Did you see that?”

“Of course I did. They all suck ass.” you tell him, mimicking him. This only makes him laugh as he comes around from behind the fence to meet you without restrictions.

Moving closer, he brushed the back of his fingers down your arm to interlock your fingers with his.

“We should do something.” he says to you in an alluring voice.

“What?” you ask him, enjoying both souls being able to window each other.

“Do you want to go cliff diving with me?” he asks you.

You thought back to when you were there, remembering the height.

“Are you crazy?” you ask him with a worried look.

This only brings out a rich laugh from him, “It seems high, but it’s not that high.”

“Are we talking about the same cliffs?” you ask.

He nods, “You will love it. I promise.”

The excitement that bubbled all over his body language, made you curious about the expected activity. You allow him to lead you back to the house, changing into swimwear.

Peering over the overlapping water, you feel the soft breeze whip on your skin. You look to Paul, only finding a look of thrill as he watched the water below with you.

“Do you want me to hold you?” he asks you softly, sensing a sense of nervousness from you.

“Please don’t let go of my hand?” you ask in a small voice.

He casts an iron grip over your hand, making you feel like you wouldn’t be able to detach your hand from him even if you wanted to.

“Never.” he tells you with a covered look of solicitousness as he looks back at you.

You both walk closer to the edge, the noise that’s below is making sure to be heard, swimming in your ears.

You close your eyes, but then shake your head and open them again. You wanted to do it like ripping off a bandaid.

“Okay..3..2…1.” you count down and before you could process anything, you’re in the air.

The wind brushed up as you both got closer and closer to the water.

You allow the water to hug and welcome you, covering your entire being. Needing oxygen back into your lungs, you swim to the surface.

“Oh my god! Why was that actually so fun?” you say with a joyful smile on your face.

He forms his own devilish smile, “I told you.”

You both swim around the large body of water for a moment before he asks, “Do you want to go again?” You nod as you both make the way back to the top.

He lowers and bend his back, wanting you to hop on his back. Your arms wrap around his neck with him not caring how tight you have it. The screams weren’t from terror, they were from pure enjoyment. You loved how you got to just lay back and allow the water consume you. Swimming around and splashing each other, you both didn’t notice the sun setting.

“I’m starving.” Paul tells you as you lazily float on your back. You chuckle at the way he says it.

“Home or Emily’s?” you ask him.

“Home. We should shower.” he tells you while trickling drops of water from his hand onto your chest. You both swim to shore, walking back to the car, he holds you close to your body allowing his body heat to seep onto you.

You didn’t walk long before he scoops you up into his arms as he carries you to the car.

The hot steam fills the room, bringing an ethereal glow to both bodies. God knows how innocent the washing session was, but eyes were curious. It didn’t help with Paul catching you sneak glances down at him. He leans and captures your mouth. Pressing his hand at the back of your head to bring you to him.

It felt like forever since both lips touched, causing each other to feast on each other’s mouths. Before it got too hot and heavy, you rinse off. You feel a hand take yours and place it on his bare, soap covered flesh, before you knew it, you were sensually stroking him with his hips meeting your movements. Both of his hands were placed above you, pressed against the wet tiles with his head down at the sight, groaning and moaning at the feeling you were giving him before he steps back and lets his load swim down the drain.

Your body was tired but relaxed from the cliff diving. The shower helped with your muscles, still allowing you to move about in the kitchen.

As you were waiting for the dinner to finish cooking on its own, you check your phone. You view a text.

“Y/N I wasn’t trying to be rude. I’m sorry if I was.”

You type back to Bella’s apologies.

“It’s okay.”

Over warm food, you express something to Paul as he stuffs his mouth.

“Yeah, I’ll try to go with you.” he says to you when you tell him about the gallery opening in Seattle. You had asked him to come with you. He knew how to calm your nerves and that’s what you needed for that day. He didn’t know if he was going to be on duty that day.

As he washed the dishes, you barely could keep your eyes open but you wanted to read the book that was loaned to you. You lie in bed with the book standing up on your stomach with one hand holding it up and tried your best to let your eyes read the words.

Paul’s abrupt comment startled you a bit due to tiredness, “This is what you made?”

You look to see him holding the canvas, his eyes run over what you poured out from your heart. It made him feel something. The strokes of watercolor, brought out the emotion perfectly. It was so sad, it was beautiful.

“Yes.” you answer, “I made it today.”

He doesn’t say anything as he stared at it. Little to your knowledge, he didn’t know whether or not to feel sorry or proud. It was so good but it was obvious that you made what you felt. He gently sets it back down and lies next to you in bed.

You go back to reread a passage that you barely paid attention to from being drowsy. He plants an affectionate kiss on the side of your eye, your cheekbone and keeps his lips there.

He then lays on his back as you close your book and scoot closer to him. You curl up beside him and rest your arm and head on his chest, his breathing rise and fall, drifting you fast asleep.

You look down at your drawings, crying out fat tears. They fell down like flows of water. You picked up shredded pieces and each piece felt like your heart was the one in shreds. You cursed at the universe and you cursed everyone around you.

You woke up, glad that the dream wasn’t real, you tiredly smile to yourself as you were back in the real world. Tangled into each other’s bodies, Paul was sound asleep, snoring softly.

He wasn’t holding you too tightly, allowing you to slide out of the bed. With no set plans for the day, after using the bathroom, washing and brushing your teeth, you flopped on the couch and ate a bowl of cereal. Clicking through the channels, you land on a nostalgic program.

The soft chatter of the characters mixed in with the sounds of your crunches and the clink of the bowl. The show you were watching had your attention, you didn’t even notice Paul coming out and move in the kitchen.

He lifted the spoon to his mouth as he idly walked past you and sat on the couch. The episode ran its full course before Paul gets up and takes you and his bowl in the sink.

You read the message you have received from Jared.

“I don’t want to, but i still have to ask. are you coming to Kim’s birthday dinner tomorrow? we’re having it at Emily’s.”

“ :/ ” you type back.

Paul changes the television settings to support his game console. As soon as he got the news that he didn’t have to patrol until later on that night, he made plans to not move from his spot.

You get up to leave the room, feeling that he might want his space.

“Where are you going?” he asks, confusion was coating his tone.

You point out of the room but he smiles a little as he thrusts a second controller in your direction.

Your hands cover your eyes as he laughs at your reaction.

“What?” he tried to innocently ask.

“I can barely beat you in card or board games. What makes you think I can beat you on your machine?” you ask him.

“We’re not playing against each other. You will be on the same team as me. So you have to listen.” he teased the last part, you sat next to him, looking at the survival game.

The eerie music booms through the speakers, setting the mood, and spiking your nerves at the fact of possibly dying before moving on from level 1.

As the game loads in, he chuckles at your tense state at holding the controller and your gaze at the loading screen.

“Y/N, just relax.” he says to you but the screen starts rolling in with both characters stagnant in the middle of the selected setting.

“Okay, follow me.” he says to you as you move the controller’s joystick to make your character follow him.

“So, what do we do?” you ask, your eyes is focused on the screen in front of you, opposing to Paul’s relaxed body language.

“All you have to do- okay Y/N, pick up the gun right there. ” he says to you as a disfigured creature make its way toward you. It’s moving slowly since the level is only at 1, giving you enough time to equip the weapon.

Instead, you’re bending down but not picking it up. “Here.” Paul says and just places his hand on the controller while you’re still holding it, to press the correct button.

“Okay. Now, shoot.” he says and you look down, trying to find the button he told you to press. Paul’s character already had dead creatures laying at his feet.

You tried your best, missing some of your shots while he laughs at the sloppiness, but at least the creature is down.

“It’s not funny.” you say plainly as you nudge his arm.

“You’re right. That was hilarious.” he says and chuckles again at the face you give him.

The wave of level 2 happening floats across the screen.

“You have to aim.” he says stressing the importance as you playfully roll your eyes.

The creatures come out with a bit more speed while Paul praise you up, “Come, on Y/N.” he says as he sprays his bullets.

You kill another one but another creature comes after you, causing Paul to shoot the one that attacked you and he heals you back to your feet.

The wave of round 2 ending swims across your screen as Paul asks for your controller, equipping upgrades for your weapon and character.

Round three was easier, Paul did most of the work but you were getting the hang of the game, following his advice to look behind yourself.

By the fifth round, the creatures stopped taking their good time to eat you. Paul did not get there in time which causes your character to spectate Paul battle off the rest. Soon, he stops trying knowing that he’s alone and let the game reset to the menu of :

play again?

You set your controller down and get up, “Alright I quit.”

“What?” he says while smiling, “Come on, please? It was getting fun.”

“I was not having fun dying. I’ll watch you.” you tell him.

“If you watch me, when I die you have to play the next rounds with me.” he says to you as he plays solo.

“Why?” you playfully whine.

“Because, you haven’t gotten to the good parts. Just wait until they start flying.” he tells you, furrowing his eyebrows at the screen to focus.

“You’re on your own, kid.” you tell him and pat his shoulder.

Not caring that his character on screen was in danger, he sets the controller down as you’re walking back and reaches to tickle your sides.

Your body jerks and folds as he pulls you closer, as you’re forcefully laughing. His fingers was digging deep into your sides, making you out of breathe.

You squeal a little bit as you gasp out, “Okay…Okay! Uncle!”

He laughs at you and you reach and plop a pillow on his head with more force than you were initially trying to hit.

The stunned look on his face makes you gasp but laugh, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” you chant as he’s reaching you once more. You try to move to get away but his long arms are much faster than you, pulling you right back in the same spot.

You’re thrashing on the couch as he reaches under your arms, making you contort your body in an almost exorcism manner. Your throat runs out of laughter as you wheeze out and your arms try to push him away.

He finally lets up, allowing you to wipe your tears from being over tickled. He has a sly smile as you try to reach for his sides. You move your fingers to mimic the deep tickles. He watched this in amusement.

“Nice try. I’m not ticklish.” he tells you.

This makes you groan as he chortles. He takes your hands that were resting on his sides and pull you over him. He takes the back of your head to bring you down to his lips. Opening his lips to let his tongue swipe on your bottom lip, you sigh into his mouth as he sucks your tongue and pulls back.

He looks at your hooded eyes and leans forward to place a wet kiss on your ear, he then whispers, “We should try something.”

“Try what?” you whisper back, trying to hold yourself together from the waves of his hips, making his bulge hit directly on your sex.

Making you stand up, he yanks your pants down, with you stepping out of them. Making himself completely bare in front of you, he couldn’t help but stroke himself as he lies down on the couch.

You peel your shirt off as he directs you to climb on top of him but with your back facing him. He scoots you up, your knees on either side of his chest as you breathe out a whoosh of air.

His engorged penis was right at your face, staring back at you. You stroke him like how you saw him do it to himself. He still makes deep grunts as he works his mouth and tongue, while you ride his face. Your eyes are closed, he doesn’t mind that you slowed down your strokes, he just wanted to eat at you.

Fluidly bucking your hips back at him while you hold on his thighs to support yourself, he grips and grabs all of the skin that his hands could reach, your pretty moans sounding like music to his ears. His mouth is still attached to you as you jerk from the hard climax he gave you.

As you calm down, he slides you down with your back still facing him. You sink down on him as you both groan in synchronization. You grind and bounce with your hands behind you on your lower back and bottom.

You were so in the zone, you almost missed his tapping to signal you to get up. He pumps the dribbling substance in his hand, biting his lip and groaning. You sit watching him trying to catch your breath, sitting back on the couch with your knees to your chest but your legs halfway open.

He looks over to you to see if you’re okay but he groans out, “Oh, don’t do that.” he says to you. You huff out a small laugh as he was clearly tempted.

After cleaning each other up in a shower session, you lie on your stomach on the bed, reading the book that was loaned to you.

You made it your mission to read it before summer ends, before Edward comes back. Plans of meeting him was not on your radar.

“What are you thinking about?” Paul asks you. One eyebrow was raised a bit as he watched you stare at one page longer than necessary.

You shift from your stomach to your side to get a better look at him, “I don’t know….” The imprinting wouldn’t allow you to lie. “Are the Cullens on vacation?”

“I don’t know…Why?”

You didn’t want to work him up all over again, “It’s summer time. They burn in the sunlight right?”You’ve seen enough movies of vampires staying in from the sunlight, only for them to burn from the rays of the sun once they step out in the daytime.

“No. They sparkle.” he snorts and rolls his eyes a bit at the ridiculous information that he gives you. You flip a page before he speaks up.

“Which friend gave you that book again?”

Damn.

“Uh…Erm..” you say but he sits up a bit straighter, focusing on what you’re going to tell him.

“Stop, you’re making me nervous.” you tell him and he relaxes a bit but his eyes don’t match his body language.

“Her name is Bella.”

“She went to our school?” he asks you, his face showing him trying to remember.

“No. I met her when I was buying a book that day at Port Angeles. I bought Pride and Prejudice and she told me she could lend me this, since she saw me trying to buy it.”

He hums a response but he’s still skeptical. You just didn’t ask questions like that out of the blue, especially while you’re thinking deep about something. He wants to keep peace right now. Not wanting any friction from pressing for more, he lets you leave it at that. You let your eyes drop from his intense ones, once you seen that he wasn’t going to hound you for more questions.

You thought about what happened earlier as you shake your head slightly. It was a perfect subject changer.

“Jared texted me earlier.” you tell him. He’s still interested in what you have to say.

“About what?”

You tell him about Kim’s birthday dinner.

“I know she told him to ask me but why won’t she leave whatever be, be?” you say as your fingers play with the edges of the pages of the open book.

He shakes his head slightly, “Your guess is as good as mine.” he says quietly.

His eyes trail off and land on your newest piece. “Are you going to take that?” he says to you, nodding in the direction of where it stood up.

You turn to look and you shrug.

“You should.” he says at your indecisiveness.

“I might.” you tell him. It seemed so personal. But then again, you didn’t want to feel like that again. Maybe it was best to take it with you to the gallery opening event. Your main thing was to network after all. Setting your mind on yes, the worst thing that you didn’t want to experience was regret.

[slut4thebroken]

Home Improvements

── ���⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Emmett x wife!reader

Summary | Emmett does yard work while you’re outside tanning and you (both) get a little needy.

Warnings | Smut, semi public sex, humiliation, exhibitionism, a lil degradation, breeding, slight age gap, they’re so cute it kinda makes me sick lol.

Words | 1.8 k

Notes | I’ve been wanting to write some consensual Emmett stuff for a while so thank you to the anon who sent an ask to @kiss-me-cill-me who ended up tagging me🤭

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

More of these two

(Ignore the fact that idk how lawn mowers work lmaooo)

You were laying down on a lawn chair in your favorite bikini, sunglasses on and book in hand, but you weren’t reading anymore. You were completely focused on Emmett. The top two buttons of his shirt were left open and his already short sleeves were rolled up a little, showing even more of his muscles and tattoo in a way that made your mouth water. 

When you noticed he was standing still, you forced yourself to pay attention and realized he was looking at you. “What?” You called out. The engine of the lawn mower was still on, but it was quieter now that he wasn’t moving it. 

“I asked if it’s too loud.” Your heart fluttered a little— he’s always so considerate. 

“No it’s okay. Thank you for checking though.” You were out here first so of course he wanted to make sure he wasn’t disturbing your tanning/reading time. 

You continued watching him. Occasionally he’d stop and remove his hat to wipe the sweat from his forehead, but he was getting through it pretty quickly, much to your displeasure. 

“Hey, Emmett?” You yelled, hoping he heard you with how far he was. He paused, turning toward you, and when you waved him over, he obeyed instantly.

“Yeah?” 

“Aren't you kind of hot? It’s like 80 degrees out today.” You said casually, confusing him. 

“A little, I guess.” He shrugged. 

“Maybe you should take your shirt off. Feeling the breeze really helps.” You suggested, glancing down at your mostly nude body to show that you weren’t completely bullshitting that excuse. He chuckled quietly and shook his head a little, looking away from you with a small smile. 

“Sure, baby.” You knew that he knew exactly what you were doing, but you didn’t care. You got what you wanted and that’s all that matters. He started unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, then tossed it onto the second lawn chair. Since he already knew, you decided to close your book and put it on the small table in between both chairs. 

“You know, it also might help if you work a little slower too. Going fast means using more effort, and that means getting hotter quicker.” You knew it was grasping at straws and completely cheesy, but he scoffed a laugh and played along. 

“Good point. Any other suggestions?” 

“None that don’t involve public indecency.” You said teasingly and he chuckled again before walking back over to the lawn mower to continue. You could see now that his torso was glistening with a light sheen of sweat, only getting you more worked up. 

There was something so incredibly hot about watching your husband do completely mundane, domestic tasks like mowing the lawn and barbecuing. He also had a really bad habit of doing home self improvements… so at any given time, there was at least one part of the house that was unfinished. The plus side to his love of home diy’s was that he’d build you things for the house, like extra storage in a weird space where nothing could really fit, or a new table after you accidentally spilled paint all over it and couldn’t get it off. 

You frowned when he turned the lawn mower off and started walking over to you. “It looks amazing, honey.” You smiled, shamelessly eyeing his body as he sat down on the chair next to yours. You offered him your glass of ice water which he took eagerly, gulping down more than half of it in one go. “You know, I think you deserve a reward for doing such a good job.” Honestly, it was more a reward for you being able to sit here for half an hour without jumping his bones. 

“You hate when I’m all sweaty.” You could tell that he wanted whatever you were offering though. 

“Yeah… but that just gives us an excuse to have round two in the shower.” You smirked and his lips curled up into a small smile. 

“Come here.” He said as he laid back in the lawn chair, letting you climb onto his lap. His hands settled on your hips as you took off your glasses and his hat before finally kissing him. Your arms draped over his shoulders, letting you play with the hair at the nape of his neck. When he pulled back, you whined quietly. “I don’t think I can do yard work while you’re tanning anymore. I’ve been hard since I walked out here.” You choked out a laugh, then started grinding on his bulge, making his breath catch in his throat. 

“I agree. I’ve been wet since you started mowing.” You leaned down to kiss him again, still grinding your hips, and his hands dragged up your sides to cup your breasts, making you moan quietly. When he pulled your bikini down to rest below them, you let out a gasp that turned into a mewl when he leaned forward and sucked your nipple into his mouth. “Fuck- Emmett…” You said through a breath, tightening your grip on his hair. “People might see.” Even though you were in the backyard that had a wood fence all the way around the perimeter, there was still a chance. 

“Thought you said I deserve a reward.” He grumbled, moving to your other nipple to suck and nip at it teasingly. “And I want to fuck my wife on my own property. I don’t give a shit if someone sees.” You knew that wasn’t true. You’d have to stop him from commiting a felony if someone accidentally saw your body because of how jealous and possessive he could be. 

“I’m gonna be pissed if we get in trouble with the HOA.” A few years ago, you never would’ve imagined that you’d be married, living in a suburban house, worried about the HOA. Despite your words, you started snaking your hands down his chest and stomach to his belt. You managed to unbuckle it, even with how close your bodies were, then you opened his pants and took out his cock, stroking him to full hardness. 

“Fuck.” He hissed, kissing up your chest to your neck, then sucking the skin into his mouth to leave a mark. “Need you, doll.” He whispered, hips bucking up toward your hand, desperately seeking out your tight, warm cunt. Since you were just as desperate, you quickly pulled your bikini bottoms to the side and sunk down on his cock, making both of you moan. You sat down on him completely, then paused, needing to let yourself adjust. 

When his hands snaked around to your back and tugged on the string of your bikini, you gasped and tried to keep the fabric from moving away— at least with it below your breasts, you could quickly cover yourself if needed. Emmett didn’t seem to care about that though as he pulled it over your head then threw it somewhere to the side. 

“Fuck..” You said through a breath. The risk was making you infinitely needier and as you continued to get more turned on, you started to care less about someone possibly seeing. 

“Come on, baby. Give me my reward.” He gruffed. As if your body was completely under his command, you started rocking your hips, warming yourself up a little. You cried out when he suddenly slapped your ass. “You know what I want.” His voice was much harsher now, making it clear that this was a demand, not a request. So you started bouncing up and down on his lap, forcing moans out of both of you. “That’s it… Be a good little wife and use that greedy cunt to please my cock.” He groaned, slapping your ass again before moving his hands up to grope your tits. You were starting to sweat now as you panted, quickly heating up from the exertion. 

Getting bolder, he suddenly reached for the strings on both hips, then quickly pulled to untie them. “Emmett..” You warned— being completely nude was way too risky.  

“We can move this to the front yard if you’d prefer.” He threatened, making you falter. When you gave up on trying to stop him, he smirked and removed the fabric, leaving you fully bare. “What would people say, honey?” He murmured mockingly. “If they knew that you liked riding me in public, in broad daylight, without wearing any clothes.” 

“Emmett…” You whined, his words making you needier. 

“Oh, I know, baby… I know.” He cooed, brushing your hair behind your ear and cupping your cheek. “You can’t help being a whore, but it’s okay because you’re my whore. Isn’t that right?” 

“Yes.” You mewled, desperately moving your hips, chasing your release. 

“Say it.” His hands settled on your hips and he held you still, then started bucking up into you. 

“I’m your whore, Emmett.” You whined with a blush. He moved one hand to smack your ass as a warning, then immediately put it back on your hip. “I’m your whore!” You cried out, much louder this time. “Fuck— please make me come.” 

“Wait just a little longer, doll, I’m almost there.” He said breathily, tightening his grip on your hips almost painfully and bucking up into you so fast, you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming. Your breasts were moving embarrassingly with how hard he was pounding you, only furthering your humiliation… which only brought you closer to the edge. 

“Emmett.. please, I can’t hold it.” You whimpered, clinging to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself. 

“Go ahead, sweet girl…” He said through a breath. “Come for me.” You reached down to rub your clit and when your orgasm crashed over you, Emmett quickly lifted a hand to cover your mouth, muffling what would’ve been a mix of a scream and a moan. You stared down at him with furrowed brows as your body trembled with each wave of pleasure that rolled through you. 

He cursed under his breath when your orgasm made your cunt squeeze his cock almost too tight, sending him over the edge as well. You only had to endure the overstimulation for a few seconds while he continued bucking up into you, riding it out. His grunts and breathy moans were creating a new pool of arousal in your stomach, but he was done before he could get you worked up all over again. 

When he relaxed his grip, you accidentally sunk down all the way, making you both wince from the sensitivity. You were still panting and Emmett was in a similar state, but he snaked his hand around to the back of your neck and pulled you down into a kiss anyway. It was short, but still deep and passionate, leaving you even more breathless. 

“I’m going to look into building higher walls for the fence so you can start tanning naked.” His lips were curled up into a poorly concealed smirk. “Just so you don’t get tan lines, obviously...” He said coyly, making you laugh. 

I think I want to write more for them cause I really like their dynamic so send me some ideas <3

[winterhawkkisses]

37 or 8 or 1 for the soft prompts?

37. I missed you

8. Sweater weather

Slow dancing

Clint's not exactly dressed for company when the Quinjet sets down in the south field, but then again company's not exactly what this is. Which is to say that Bucky has seen him naked and sweating and kiss-stained, and he's seen him bleeding out and crying for his mother, and in about a million messes in-between. So he can deal with the cut-off sweats and the paint-stained sweater that's long enough to almost hide 'em, and he can deal with the idiot-stubbornness that has Clint painting the porch railing in this weather, too.

"Thought Tony told you not to steal the 'jet any more," Clint calls, soon as Bucky is just about close enough. Not close enough for Clint to hear any response, though, so Bucky just pantomimes an oversized shrug and keeps trekking through the overgrown grass. It's knee-high 'cos the ride-on mower hates Clint, has tried to kill him on three separate occasions, and Bucky's been gone since summer was still warm in the air. So Clint doesn't make a move forward, although he drops the paintbrush back into the tray; keeping his hands free is just good sense. He doesn't quite expect the clatter of boot heels on porch steps, though, as Bucky doesn't slow even a little, grabbing Clint by the hips and pulling him into the fiercest kiss he's had in a good while.

"What," Clint just about gets out, practically pressing it into Bucky's mouth, then he's helplessly pulling him in again, letting Bucky muscle him back against the wall by the open front door. The kiss is all-encompassing, overwhelming, and even when Bucky finally pulls back it's only just far enough to rest their foreheads together, warm uneven breath washing across his face.

"Hey," Bucky says, and Clint can't see his smile, this close, but it's warming right through his voice. "I missed you."

Would be a moment of silence after that, only Clint's set up the record player in the living room and there's no neighbours for miles, so Jimi's Watchtower fills all the room that's there.

"Yeah?" Clint says, eventually, and his reflection of Bucky's smile is goofy as anything. It's been a concerted effort, not putting words around this thing, 'cos he hadn't been sure it'd hold their weight.

Bucky curls an arm around to the small of Clint's back and grasps his hand, rocking them back and forth a little like they're dancing, out of time and out of place. "Yeah," he says, cheek to cheek and warm in Clint's ear, arm solid behind him like it'll hold anything he wants to trust to it.

[lilahlovesjjk]

🇼​​🇭​​🇪​​🇳​ ​🇮​ ​🇬​​🇷​​🇴​​🇼​ ​🇺​​🇵

Chapter 1

synopsis: You and Satoru Gojo used to be inseparable—the kind of childhood best friends that promised to get married, rule the world, and never leave each other’s side.

Then life happened.

Now, years later, you’re both enrolled in the same elite psychology graduate program—only this time, you’re rivals. Gojo’s loud, flirty, obnoxiously charming, and infuriatingly good at everything. You're focused, sharp, constantly proving yourself—and desperate not to let the past (or him) throw you off course.

warnings: angst, slowburn (kinda), swearing, eventual nsfw, (i'll add to the list if I think of any more as the story progresses)

– Summer, Age 8

The grass is itchy under your knees, but you don’t move.

Not yet.

If you shift even a little, the crunch of a leaf or the snap of a twig will give you away—and you’ve waited far too long for the perfect shot to ruin it now.

Your hands are a little muddy from crawling through the overgrowth, but you’ve got a bright blue water balloon clenched in your fist like it’s a grenade. He’s right there, not ten feet away, lying back in the shade like some smug prince in a storybook. His white hair’s a messy halo around his head, his mouth open like he’s snoring, and his stupid sunglasses are still perched on his nose like he’s too cool for real life.

Satoru Gojo is many things. Annoying. Loud. Impossible to ignore. But right now? He’s your target.

You bite your lip to stop from laughing. Almost there.

You stand slowly—just enough to get the angle right—and hurl the water balloon at him with every ounce of righteous vengeance your tiny body can muster.

It smacks into his stomach with a loud, glorious splat.

There’s a split-second pause, and then—

“HEY!” Gojo shrieks, jolting upright like he’s been electrocuted. “What the hell?!”

You double over laughing as he scrambles to his feet, dripping wet and flailing, looking every bit like a soaked, indignant cat.

“That’s cheating!” he yells, pointing at you with the burst remains of the balloon.

You wipe tears from your eyes, still laughing. “You said no plastic guns,” you manage between wheezes. “You didn’t say anything about balloons.”

“That’s, like... that’s a loophole!” He sputters, wringing out his shirt. “A double cheat!”

You beam, crossing your arms smugly. “Sorry you can’t keep up.”

Gojo narrows his eyes, and you know that look—the one that means retaliation is imminent. You scream before he even moves, bolting toward the hill with him hot on your heels, wet footsteps slapping against the packed dirt.

You don’t get far.

He tackles you easily, the two of you tumbling into a patch of grass in a tangle of limbs, laughing so hard you can barely breathe. You roll onto your back beside him, flushed and muddy, with grass stains smeared up your arms and across your knees.

“Truce?” you pant.

Gojo raises a brow. “Until dinner.”

“Fine.”

For a while, neither of you say anything. The air is warm and lazy, filled with the buzz of cicadas and the faint sound of a distant lawn mower. A breeze lifts the ends of your hair. You close your eyes, letting the sun paint gold behind your eyelids.

“I don’t wanna grow up,” you murmur.

Gojo turns his head toward you. “Why not?”

You shrug, cracking one eye open. “Grown-ups are weird. They never smile unless it’s fake. They forget how to play. And they’re always sad or tired or mad about bills.”

He’s quiet for a second, chewing on that. Then he sits up and squints at the sky, like he’s trying to map out the future with his bare eyes.

“Okay,” he says finally. “So... let’s not grow up like them.”

You frown. “What does that mean?”

“We’ll grow up like us,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “We’ll be cool. And happy. And we’ll live in a giant house with a home theater and dogs. Lots of dogs.”

You snort. “You can’t even take care of your goldfish.”

“You’ll take care of them,” he says without missing a beat. “And I’ll do the money stuff.”

“I’m not being your dog butler.”

“Fine,” he relents, lying back again with a heavy sigh. “We’ll just order pizza forever and never do dishes. That better?”

You’re quiet for a long moment, eyes on the sky. Then, before you can overthink it, you ask:

“Will I still know you?”

Gojo turns his head to look at you. The sun glints off his sunglasses. He pushes them up onto his forehead so you can see his eyes—bright, blue, and so very certain.

“Duh,” he says. “We’re gonna be together forever, because when I grow up i'm gonna marry you."

Your throat feels weird. Tight. Like the wind is pressing down on it.

“You promise?”

He stares at you for a beat too long.

And then he grins, wide and warm and stupid, and sticks out his pinky. “I promise.”

You hook yours with his, and it’s so simple. So easy.

You don’t know that in just a few years he’ll outgrow you, you will see him pass by you in the hallways without sparing you a second glance. You won’t hear from him. You'll wait and wonder and outgrow the field you used to conquer together.

But right now, you believe him.

Because Gojo Satoru has never broken a promise to you.

Not yet.

And then the bus screeches to a halt, jolting you back into the present so hard your teeth knock together.

You blink hard, vision clearing just in time to see the stop sign flash past.

"Shit," you mutter under your breath, "I'm gonna be late." You scramble to grab your bag and jump out of your seat.

The bus doors hiss open, and you leap down the steps like they’ve burned you.

The air is thick with the late-summer heat that clings to everything, and your backpack bounces against your spine as you take off at a half-run, dodging slower pedestrians on the sidewalk with the precision of someone who refuses to be the person who walks into class late on the first day.

You barely glance at the campus you’ve spent the last week trying to emotionally prepare yourself for. It’s prestigious. Gorgeous. Overachieving in that old-money kind of way. Red brick buildings covered in ivy. Classical columns. Students who already look like they’ve read Freud in Latin.

Your stomach churns with nerves and caffeine and adrenaline.

Psych grad school. You made it. You’re here. You’re—

Five goddamn minutes late.

You shove the heavy door open to the psych building and stumble into the main lecture hall, breath catching as your eyes sweep the room. It’s sleek and modern, filled with floor-to-ceiling windows and that painfully sterile academic lighting. The room is basically entirely full.

You bite down a curse and step inside as quietly as you can. The professor hasn’t started speaking yet, thankfully, though she’s flipping through her notes at the podium with thinly veiled impatience.

You scan the rows.

And freeze.

Because of course the only empty seat left in the entire godforsaken room is next to him.

Gojo Satoru.

You nearly choke.

He’s lounging in the seat like he owns it, one arm slung over the back of your empty chair, legs sprawled out comfortably, sunglasses still perched arrogantly on his nose despite the fact that you’re indoors. His white hair is messier than you remember. The curve of his jaw has sharpened. The cocky grin on his face? Unchanged. Timeless. Infuriating.

Your heart stutters once in your chest—and then slams back into your ribs like it’s trying to make a break for it.

You haven’t seen him in years.

Not since he stopped talking to you.

Not since he broke a promise with a pinky and a smile.

And now he’s sitting there, as if no time has passed at all.

You move before you can think, before your legs decide to betray you completely. You make your way down the aisle, eyes forward, shoulders squared like you’re going into battle.

He notices you halfway down the steps.

You can feel the exact moment he recognizes you.

“...angel?”

His voice is low, curious. Disbelieving. A slow grin spreads across his face like the sun rising to mock you personally.

“No way. No way.”

You drop your bag next to the seat and sit down without looking at him.

“Don’t call me that,” you say, voice tight.

He leans over slightly, like he’s trying to make sure it’s really you. “Holy shit. It is you.”

“Gojo,” you acknowledge coolly, fixing your gaze on the front of the lecture hall.

There’s a beat of silence. Then, cheerfully:

“You look good.”

“Do not flirt with me,” you snap.

“Who’s flirting?” he says innocently. “Maybe I’m just surprised you turned out so—” He flicks his fingers vaguely toward your face. “—symmetrical.”

You grit your teeth. “And you turned out exactly like I thought. Arrogant. Unbearably loud. And wearing sunglasses indoors.”

“They’re prescription,” he lies.

“They’re not.”

He shrugs, clearly pleased with himself. “Still mad at me, huh?”

You shoot him a look that could cut steel. “Mad? No. I don’t waste energy on people who just basically disappear like cowards.”

He lets out a low whistle. “Wow. Right in the ego.”

“You don’t have an ego. You are an ego.”

The professor clears her throat at the front, and the class falls into silence. She introduces herself as Dr. Yuki and launches into the syllabus, but your focus is already shot to hell. You’re hyper-aware of Gojo next to you. The faint scent of his cologne. The way his long fingers tap restlessly against his notebook. The occasional sideways glance he throws you like he’s dying to say something else.

Halfway through the lecture, she opens the floor for discussion—early theories of personality and identity formation.

You raise your hand.

So does he.

You both speak at once.

She points to you.

"Adverse Childhood Experiences, like abuse, neglect, and household dysfunction, can disrupt brain development leading to long-term negative impacts on physical and mental health." you explain, "Some may argue though that ones genetic temperament they inherit from their parents may also shape how they turn out. While I do agree that genetics may cause some of it, I have to agree with Vygotsky when he says that the environment and social interactions does play a more substantial role in early development."

You hear a few murmurs of encouragement and classmates sharing ideas based off of what you just said, you fit in here even though you were the only one late.

"Well done. That was very well explained, I can see you doing well in this class." Dr Yuki says with a nod

Gojo raises his hand. Of course he does.

“I mean, sure, environment’s huge,” he says lazily. “But your explanation on the way individual temperament shapes how a person interprets that environment was lacking. Two kids in the same house, totally different outcomes. Like me and—” he gestures toward you with a grin, “—my charming rival over here.”

You glare at him. “I’m not your rival.”

“Aw,” he says, eyes sparkling. “You’re right. You’re more of a—what’s the word? Stalker?”

A few students laugh.

You want to strangle him with your tote bag.

Gojo spoke up again to continue his point. “Anyways, two people raised under the same roof can have wildly different outcomes because of how they’re wired from the start. Personality traits like resilience, impulsivity, emotional regulation—they aren’t always shaped by the environment. Sometimes they shape how someone responds to it. You’ve got to factor in nature and nurture, or you’re missing half the picture.”

He shrugs, leaning back again, his voice annoyingly smooth.

“I’m just saying, not everyone who grows up in a tough household ends up traumatized. Some people—” he tilts his head, his grin curling into something a little sharper, “—come out even stronger.”

Your jaw tightens.

It’s a valid point, sure. But you know the tone he’s using—like this is a game. Like your answer was just an opening for him to show off.

“Interesting insight,” Dr. Yuki says neutrally, though she gives you a small, encouraging glance. “The interaction between temperament and environment is, of course, highly complex and still being studied. You two make a good pair of thinkers. Keep it up.”

Gojo shoots you a wink. You fight the urge to roll your eyes so hard they detach.

The rest of the class breezes by in a blur of academic introductions and syllabus breakdowns. You try to refocus, but Gojo’s presence next to you is like a flickering neon sign. Loud. Distracting. Impossible to ignore. He doesn’t talk again, thankfully, but you can feel his attention flicking toward you now and then, like he’s just waiting for you to snap back.

You don’t give him the satisfaction.

Instead, you copy down the reading list with mechanical precision and pack up your things the moment Dr. Yuki dismisses the class.

“Don’t run away, angel,” Gojo drawls the second you stand. “You’ll hurt my feelings.”

You whirl around so fast your ponytail nearly whips him in the face.

“Don’t call me that,” you hiss, your voice low enough that only he can hear. “We’re not eight anymore, and we’re not friends.”

He leans on the desk, utterly unbothered. “Didn’t say we were. Though the chemistry? Still there.”

“Chemistry?” You scoff. “There’s more chemistry between a paperclip and a microwave.”

His grin grows. “Kinky.”

You stare at him.

Gojo Satoru has always had this uncanny ability to derail you with just a few words, like your entire nervous system short-circuits on contact. He knows it too—he drinks it in, like your frustration is the most refreshing thing in the world.

You shoulder your bag and march down the steps toward the door. But before you can make a clean getaway, you hear his footsteps behind you.

“Wait up,” he calls, catching up easily. “Walk me to class?”

You snort. “No.”

“C’mon,” he says, eyes glinting. “For old time’s sake.”

“That’s exactly why I’m saying no.”

He laughs, and it’s that same carefree sound that used to echo across your backyard and down the hallways of your childhood. It used to make you smile without thinking.

Now it just makes you want to punch something soft and expensive.

The two of you step into the hallway, where a rush of students swarm past, their voices echoing off the polished tile floors and high ceilings. The psych building smells like lemon cleaner and overachieving.

“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” he says, falling into step beside you like this is normal. Like he belongs next to you again. “You did miss me, right?”

You blink up at him. “What?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he says, winking. “It’s embarrassing.”

You stop in the middle of the hallway, making a group of passing undergrads grumble as they sidestep around you.

“Gojo.”

“Satoru,” he corrects with a shit-eating grin.

You ignore him. “You think this is some kind of joke, don’t you? Like you can just show up after all these years, tease me a little, and we’ll fall back into the same rhythm?”

He tilts his head, mouth still curved like he’s seconds away from another quip. But this time... his eyes shift. Just a little. Like he’s searching your face for something.

“No,” he says. “Not a joke.”

You wait, breath caught somewhere in your throat.

But he says nothing else.

Instead, he leans against a nearby column and lets his eyes wander, like he's suddenly too cool to look at you directly. “You really went all in on psych, huh?”

“I didn’t realize I needed your approval.”

“Didn’t say that. Just... impressed.”

You blink. “You’re impressed I’m in grad school?”

“No,” he says, eyes sliding back to yours. “I’m impressed you still argue like you’ve got something to prove.”

The air between you sharpens. You know what he’s really saying. That you’ve always been this way—clawing your way toward perfection, carrying something on your back that he never had to. You’ve always felt like you were running out of time, while he was coasting on endless charm and raw brilliance.

That sting burns down your throat.

You shift your grip on your bag and step away. “Some of us don’t get to coast through life on vibes and daddy’s credit card.”

His eyes flicker. You see it—the flash of something dark, something vulnerable—but then it’s gone. Walled off behind his sunglasses again.

You hate that it makes you feel guilty.

“I’ve got criminology next,” you say, voice clipped.

Gojo straightens up, clearly deciding to let your jab slide. “Still into crime shows, huh? Let me guess. Still think you’re gonna psychoanalyze serial killers and end up on a Netflix docuseries.”

You roll your eyes. “I’d rather end up on Netflix than a Buzzfeed article titled ‘College Clown Dunks on Childhood Best Friend in Lecture.’”

“Catchy title,” he says. “Bet it’d go viral.”

“I’m sure you’d make sure of it.”

You both reach the intersection between halls. He stops first, hands in his pockets, hair catching the sunlight from the tall windows. For a second, he just watches you.

“Hey,” he says, softer now. “I wasn’t trying to ruin your moment in class.”

You blink.

He shrugs. “I was just... trying to talk to you. Y’know. Like the old days.”

You study him. The smirk is still there, but it’s thinner. Like it’s holding back something real. You remember one of the last times you saw him—on that hill, his pinky linked with yours.

You want to hate him.

But you never could.

The apartment smells like sesame oil, soy sauce, and victory.

You and Shoko sit cross-legged on the couch, surrounded by takeout containers and chopsticks like two dragons guarding their hoard. Your laptop is somewhere under the chaos, long forgotten in favor of spring rolls and sweet and sour chicken. The coffee table is a battlefield: orange chicken juice has bled into the napkins, someone definitely spilled chili oil on the remote, and there are at least three fortune cookies smashed open like tiny edible grenades.

“Okay,” Shoko says, waving a dumpling in the air like it’s a gavel, “but hear me out—what if we just quit grad school and open a food truck called Freud and Fries?”

You choke on your lo mein. “What are we serving? Deep-fried childhood trauma?”

“Exactly. Repress it and fry it.” She takes a victorious bite of her dumpling. “Our signature item could be the 'Oedipal Combo Platter.' Comes with mommy issues and a side of existential dread.”

You collapse into giggles, nearly knocking over the hot and sour soup. “We’d go bankrupt from the lawsuits alone.”

Shoko shrugs, unbothered. “Worth it. At least I’d die with some dignity. Or MSG.”

You're both dressed in your laziest pajamas—yours a faded t-shirt with cracked letting that says PSYCH ME UP, paired with polka-dotted pajama pants, and Shoko’s a vintage Hello Kitty set two sizes too big. You both have thick, goopy face masks on—Shoko’s is mint green and smells faintly of cucumbers, and yours is some trendy charcoal detox thing that has turned your face into a matte gray void. You feel like a sexy Halloween ghost.

Shoko sticks a spoon into the pint of fried rice between you and narrows her eyes. “You looked stressed when you came in.”

You grunt in agreement and flop dramatically into the couch cushions. “I had to listen to four different people misquote Piaget in a row during discussion.”

She winces. “Brutal.”

“One of them said children don’t develop object permanence until they’re like, six.”

Shoko looks scandalized. “Six? What do they think babies are? Goldfish?”

“Apparently! I was this close to throwing my textbook across the room like it was a damn Pokéball.”

You mime it, complete with sound effects. Shoko offers a slow, respectful golf clap.

There’s a lull while you both snack, content with the comforting crunch of dumplings and the low hum of your apartment’s ancient heater clanking in the background. The city outside is muffled through the window, its glow filtering through the curtains and casting a sleepy amber hue over your living room.

You exhale, forehead pressed to your palm. “It’s just been... a day, you know? All this talk about childhood trauma and brain development and I’m sitting there thinking, like, damn. Maybe I should’ve been a barista instead.”

Shoko hums thoughtfully. “I think you’d be a menace with a milk frother.”

You grin. “I would be. ‘You want extra foam? How about some extra childhood baggage too?’”

She clinks her glass of wine against your soda can like it’s a toast. “To repression and cappuccinos.”

You lean back into the couch, letting yourself melt into the cushions like overcooked tofu.

“You ever think about how different things felt when we were kids?” you ask, voice quieter now, eyes focused on the ceiling. “Like… how we thought growing up meant knowing everything? Being sure of yourself?”

Shoko looks over at you, her mask starting to crack around the edges.

“Sometimes,” she says. “But I think we also assumed being an adult meant not feeling like a mess all the time.”

You smile faintly. “Remember back in high school when I used to hang out at your house after school and we’d make those horrible microwave brownies?”

Shoko smirks. “You mean the ones we drowned in whipped cream to hide the taste of burned chocolate?”

“Those,” you laugh. “We thought we were culinary geniuses.”

“You also tried to make a ‘trauma-free playlist’ on my iPod that was just ABBA songs.”

“That was a masterpiece.”

“You put ‘Dancing Queen’ on there three times.”

“I was trying to manifest joy!”

You both burst into laughter again, until your cheeks hurt and your stomach aches from all the dumplings and giddy exhaustion.

When the laughter fades, you sit in silence for a moment, face tilted toward the ceiling, your voice thoughtful when you finally say, “We used to dream about what kind of adults we’d be. I thought I’d have it all figured out by now.”

Shoko leans her head against your shoulder.

“I think we are figuring it out. Just slowly. And with worse skincare habits than we expected.”

You sigh. “You know what’s weird? Sitting in class today, talking about how much childhood experiences shape your whole brain—it made me remember things. Like, out of nowhere. Stuff I haven’t thought about in years.”

“Like what?”

You hesitate for a beat. Then: “Like... this kid I used to be close with in elementary school. We were inseparable back then. Always swore we’d stay best friends. He was loud and ridiculous and so sure of himself. I used to think he’d grow up to be famous or something. Or, I don’t know... still be around.”

Shoko doesn’t press you, just gives your knee a nudge with hers.

“You miss him?”

You poke at a leftover dumpling with your chopsticks. “Maybe. Or maybe I just miss how simple everything felt back then. Like the future was some shiny thing we were racing toward together. Now it’s just... this blur of stress and student loans.”

You let out a long sigh, shoulders finally sagging into the couch. “Why does he still get to me? Like—we haven’t been close in years. We’re not friends anymore. So why does he walk into a room and suddenly I’m ten years old again, begging him to pinky promise he’ll still like me when we grow up?”

There it is.

The air shifts just a little.

Shoko doesn’t say anything right away. She wipes the excess mask from the tip of your nose with the cat paw brush before responding.

“Because you’re still mad,” she says gently. “You’re still hurt.”

You don’t answer, eyes fixed on the sesame chicken.

“He was your best friend,” she continues. “And then one day he wasn’t. And instead of giving you closure, he just... popped back into your life with a smirk and perfect teeth and no explanation.”

“God,” you mutter, “his teeth are perfect.”

Shoko hums in agreement.

You chew your lip, hating how true it all is. “It’s not even that he left. I mean, yeah, that sucked. But it’s that he never said why. We just drifted. He got popular, got loud. And when I asked what was going on, he just gave me that stupid grin and said, ‘Don’t worry about it, Angel.’”

You blink hard.

“I’m still worrying about it.”

Shoko leans her head against your shoulder. “That’s because you never stopped caring.”

Shoko holds up a fortune cookie like a priest offering a blessing. “Here. This will cure your existential dread.”

You crack it open and read the tiny slip aloud: "You will soon receive the answer you’ve been seeking."

You both stare at it.

Then you deadpan, “If this thing is talking about my psych midterm, it’s a liar.”

Shoko snorts and tosses the fortune at the coffee table. “I hope the answer is Chinese food leftovers for breakfast.”

You grin. “We’re the smartest people in this program.”

As you both settle into the warmth of the couch, surrounded by the crumbs of your feast and the peeling bits of face mask flaking onto your pajama shirts, it strikes you just how much you needed this.

A quiet night. A stupid, cozy night.

No academic pressure. No pretending to be fine. No thinking too hard about people you used to know or feelings you’re still untangling.

Just you. Shoko. And six kinds of chicken.

Honestly? Not a bad way to grow up after all.

[paradiseismine]

Twice as wet - Mike Wheeler x reader

Part 1/2.

Pairing: Mike Wheeler x f!reader

Warnings: slight NSFW, but tasteful I swear ok bye

It was a hot summer’s day, but not as hot as you. Your hair was shinier than ever and your smile was to die for, after all. Your confidence in your body had increased in the last year or so, and ever since you moved to Hawkins a month ago, it had sky rocketed, for some reason. You had just turned 18 and were ready to meet some cute guys.

Just not today.

Your mom had hired some neighbourhood kid to mow the lawn, and told you to stay home all afternoon to pay him afterwards, since she would be out to run some errands. So you sat on your couch, bored in a bikini and a pair of your shortest shorts, unable to jump in the backyard pool until that damn boy’s arrival.

At 1 p.m. sharp, your doorbell rang. You walked to the door and opened it gently.

- Uh, hello, are-are you y/n? - The boy asked, his head slightly tilted down so he would look you in the eyes. Man, was he TALL.

- Hi, that’s me - you smiled sweetly, trying to remember his name - and you’re… Michael, right? My mom told me to wait for you.

- Yes, that’s right… You can call me Mike, though - he scratched the back of his neck with his left hand, licking his lips.

That really got your attention. You examined his face for a second. His perfect jet black hair, his fair skin, plump red lips, delicate little freckles… Ugh. He’s so beautiful. Your lips cracked open as you wanted to say something, but nothing came out of your mouth. It was nearly a trance.

- So uh, should I get started on the lawn? - he grinned, shyly.

- Oh, yes - you said, as your eyes shot wide open, breaking that trance. - Sure. Come, I’ll show you where everything is.

You showed him around the garden and the garage: where the lawn mower was, how it worked and the area he needed to mow: your front yard first, and then the backyard, just around the pool. You tried to keep your cool and be normal about it, hoping he hadn’t noticed your staring when he arrived.

But he did. Mike Wheeler had been 18 for a few months right now, and he couldn’t believe such a pretty girl would check him out like that. He also tried to keep his cool, of course. He needed those summer jobs to afford a new guitar, and wouldn’t risk doing anything to displease you.

After the front yard was done, Mike circled around the house and got to the backyard - just to see you sunbathing near the pool.

Fuck, she’s perfect, he thought, as you got up and turned around, giving him a good look of your figure. What he wasn’t expecting, though, is that you jumped in the water a few seconds later.

As you emerged from the water, your hair darker and your eyes slightly squinted because of the sun, he couldn’t help but also notice all the little water droplets that were dripping from your face to your chest.

He was definitely checking you out. Ugh, thank God, you thought. Finally a cute boy I can obsess over. Because of course, you wouldn’t obsess over anyone who wasn’t obsessed with you too. As the work was all done, he put the lawn mower back on its place and walked over to you.

- Thank you so much, darling - you said, batting your eyelashes at him, your legs dangling from the edge of the pool. - There’s a red envelope on the fridge with your payment. I guess you could grab it later…

- Later? - he said, confused.

- Yes, after a little swim with me… in here - you said, smiling as if you had just offered him a drink of water.

Mike chuckled. He was definitely taking a sip.

- I mean… c-can I? - he asked, just in case.

- Of course, i got plenty of towels you could dry off with later… my mom won’t mind, she’s not coming back home until, at least, 7 p.m… What do you say?

Mike smiled at you as he yanked his shirt from the back of his neck. Just that single movement already made your insides twitch. Oh, that boy was in for a treat.

As he took off his pants and sneakers, you simply watched, no longer worrying about getting caught staring at him. He sat down next to you on the edge of the pool, his cheeks a bit red. Maybe from the sun, maybe from shyness.

You leaned in to kiss him, there was no point in waiting. He kissed you back softly, his hands grabbing your waist gently, as if he was afraid to scare you off. You were so pretty, he couldn’t believe it. Your right hand reached for his face, caressing it lightly, as you held his arm with your left hand and slowly guided him to actually enter the pool, so you would both stand up in it. Now your bodies were touching, and you hoped he couldn’t feel your heart beating out of your chest as you grabbed a fistful of his perfect hair and scratched his back with your nails, now fully making out with him.

He reached for your thighs and brought you up to his waist, intensifying your lust. You wrapped your legs around him, holding yourself in place, as his hands slowly left your butt after a few good grips. You had never been so grateful for that pool.

Mike Wheeler had the biggest boner of his life. His underwear was white and now completely wet, plus he had a hard-on - great. What if you were offended by it? Was that uncalled for? Those questions left his brain the second your soft hand reached down under the water.

Damn, that boy was packing some heat down there. He jumped out of his skin with your touch, at first, but melted into it a second later.

- I know you’re kissing me in the pool just to get me twice as wet - you said, chuckling, as your foreheads were touching. - But maybe we should continue this on dry land.

- Sure, whatever you want, princess - he said, enchanted by you.

- Whatever I want, huh? - you put your arms around his neck, tilting your head to the side. - That’s good to hear. I might take advantage of this later, though.

[apomaro-mellow]

ok so i didn’t really get the pairing drabble thing but i just read the fainting one and it was pretty good so can you do 13 or 46 pls :))

"What the hell is Harrington doing?", Eddie asked as he stepped out of his van.

"Mowing the lawn. My mom pays him to do it during the summer." Dustin answered with such nonchalance when clearly this deserved the utmost gravitas.

Steve

Harrington

Was pushing a lawn mower across the front yard of Henderson's house wearing nothing but a loose tank top and shorts that rode up his crack. When he turned to go the other way (towards the driveway) Eddie felt frozen on the spot. Dustin was trying to lead him inside but unfortunately Eddie was bound by forces beyond his control.

When Steve stopped just in front of them, he walked over, seemingly to Eddie. Eddie swallowed and opened his mouth to say something when Steve bent down. The image of him doing so to get on his knees made Eddie sweat. But then he rose up, water bottle in hand. He poured some on the top of his head, cooling it from the sun before taking a swig.

"Who's your friend, Dustin?"

"Kiss me."

"What?"

"I mean Eddie! My name, that's-my name is Eddie."

[after-the-end-times]

Collars Don't Come From Hot Topic

Rating: M 🖤 Words: 1,630 🖤 Tags: Accidental Subspace, Non-Sexual Subspace, Established Realtionship, Established Dom/sub dynamics, Future fic - 90s, Steve takes care of Eddie @subeddieweek Day 3 Prompt -Accidental Subspace Ao3

🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤 🖤

Eddie was working on a short story when Steve got back from his weekly trip to the mall with Robin.

Every week they would get to the mall before it opened to walk with the old people; they got to have a specific time set aside to chat and Steve was able to make sure Robin was getting some exercise.

"Got you something!" Steve sang out, swinging a black bag toward Eddie.

"Oooh, I love getting stuff! Gimme!" Steve plopped the bag on the table beside his notebook, white jagged lettering on the bag, Hot Topic.

He dumped the bag sideways, a black band of leather sliding out, a choker.

"I saw it and thought it'd go with a lot of what you wear. There were different ones, but the leather would go with your jacket and the silver matches your rings! The girl who checked us out said it was a good one."

"Looks cool, I like it!" Eddie took it off the cardboard and held it up to Steve who took it as Eddie pulled his hair out of the way. "Buckle it for me?"

From behind, Steve lifted it over his head, placing it snug against his throat. He'd seen a lot of people wearing these lately, mostly punks and goths, but for Steve he'd wear it happily.

"How's that feel?" Steve asked, hooking a finger between the necklace and Eddie's throat. "Not too tight?"

Eddie tested it out, moving his head around, breathing deep.

"Nope, feels good. Thank you for thinking of me." He tilted his head back, Steve leaned down a peak a kiss to his lips. Eddie grinned mischievously, "Especially, since I know how you and Robin get when you're in gossip and chat mode."

Steve laughed and booped Eddie's nose. "Never too caught up to remember you, babe."

Eddie grinned, a blush gently heating his cheeks. He glanced back to his notebook and back up to Steve, "So, what was on your List of Housework to get done today, on this fine Saturday?"

"Need to mow and then prune back the bushes that have gotten a little too out of hand. You wanna help?"

Normally, Eddie didn't do much of the yard work, unless something was a two man job, but today felt different. "Sure."

Surprise flashed across Steve's face for a moment, before splitting into a grin. "Great! You can hold the lawn bags! Dumping the grass is a bit easier with an extra set of hands. Grab your gloves from the tool closet and meet me out front."

Steve left out the side door, heading for the mower in the shed. Eddie stood, moving to grab his gloves without a second thought.

He met Steve out front, who handed him two lawn bags, "Open one of these. I dump out the mower's bag twice for the front yard, so just stand here and I'll bring it to you."

Eddie nodded and worked on opening the bag, which turned out to be a little more difficult than he realized, ending up halfway inside the bag before bringing it down in front of himself.

Steve had already gotten the mower running and was two back and forth's into the yard.

And Eddie waited.

It was a nice day out, warm with a slight breeze, comfortable even in the shade of the house.

Steve finished half the yard and unhooked the bag from the mower, carrying it over to Eddie.

"Alright, open it up. I need to get this bag fully into it so nothing falls out." Eddie followed the directions, hooking the paper bag around the mower's bag. "Good. Might want to cover your mouth and nose with your shirt, the grass can go flying."

Eddie held the bag with one hand, pulling his t-shirt over his nose with his other.

"Good. Don't want your allergies acting up, baby. Alright, there we go. I'll just get the rest of the yard, then we can go to the back yard, yeah?"

Eddie nodded, standing beside his bag, holding it so it wouldn't dump.

Steve walked back to the mower, glancing back at Eddie quizzically, giving him a little wave. Eddie smiled back.

And he waited.

The wind whispered across his skin, feeling cool and refreshing. The birds chirped in the trees around him.

Steve finished the yard, pushing the mower over to Eddie, they repeated the earlier process, before heading to the backyard.

The back was technically bigger, but over the years they'd laid gravel and bricks to make a fire pit area and deck space, so there was about the same amount of grass to mow as the front.

Steve asked Eddie to open the bag and Eddie did.

Steve pointed to a shady space by their shed Eddie should stand to be out of the sun and Eddie did.

Steve mowed.

Eddie waited.

"Baby?" Hot hands slide up his jaw, cupping his face. He blinked. Steve was standing before him. "Hey, there. You back with me?"

Eddie blinked at him.

"Ok, that's ok. Let's go inside, get some water. Worked up quite a sweat out here. Come on."

Steve turned him toward the house, placing a heavy hand on his lower back to guide him to the door.

Inside, Steve sat him back at the chair he'd been writing in earlier.

Eddie watched as he stepped over to the cupboards, pulling out two glasses, then grabbed the pitcher of cold water from the fridge, setting them on the table near Eddie.

Steve sat beside him and poured the water, holding a glass up up Eddie's lips. Eddie blinked at him once before his eyes slipped closed and he drank the water Steve slowly tipped for him.

Steve set the glass aside once he finished it all and took Eddie's hands in his, rubbing the backs with his thumbs. Eddie took a deep breath.

Thoughts were flitting around his mind, too quick to grab on to. He tilted his head questioningly.

"Baby, I think you slipped into your floaty headspace while we were working."

Eddie's eyebrows pinched in confusion.

"Think it might've been the choker. I can take it off, maybe that'll help?" Eddie whined, jerking a hand from Steve's to cover the front of the choker, eyes wide with worry.

"Ok, ok, that's fine, baby. You can keep it on." Steve held his hand out, Eddie placed his back in it, Steve continued to rub the backs. "Don't worry, I'm not taking it from you. Just wanna take care of you. Why don't we take a little break from yard work? Come on, I'll put a movie on."

Steve stood, holding Eddie's hands so he'd follow with him. He sat Eddie on their couch, going over to pop a movie in, and then sitting back beside him, wrapping an arm around him.

As the movie played, Eddie's thoughts became a little firmer. He tilted his head to look at Steve, who felt the shift and met his eyes.

"Hi." His voice felt hard to push out. He rubbed his cheek on Steve's shoulder.

Steve slid his hand into Eddie's hair. "Hey there, babe. You coming back to your body a bit more?"

Eddie hummed, mmhmm.

"Good, that's good. You hungry?"

Eddie thought about it, tilting his head and pursing his lips so Steve would know he was thinking about it. He nodded and hummed out a uh huh.

"Alrighty. Let's pause this and go make something. Come on." Steve stood, holding out his hand for Eddie to take, and then pulled him up.

Accident or not, Steve used a tad too much strength and Eddie stumbled, falling into Steve's arms. He giggled, smiling up at Steve. Steve grinned back.

They walked into the kitchen hand in hand. Steve stood Eddie against the counter where he could keep touching him while he made them something to eat.

They sat back in the living room with their food and the movie playing. Little by little, Eddie felt more solid. By the time the movie ended and their empty plates sat on the coffee table, Eddie was able to think again.

He turned to Steve, speaking low, "Do you really think it was the choker?"

Steve turned sideways on the couch to face him. "Yeah, babe, I do. It's the only thing that makes sense. I was thinking about it and it is kinda like a collar collar, you know? I know we decided that a collar wasn't something we were interested in, but...maybe we should rethink that."

Eddie nodded. "Yeah. I mean, maybe not immediately, though? This seemed to work pretty well."

He touched the front of his choker gently, just his fingertips brushing against it.

Steve smiled at him. "Ok, not yet then. However, if we want one for an actual, harder scene, we're going to look at the proper collars, ok?"

"Yeah, ok, sounds fair." Eddie nodded and then hesitated, looking down as if he could see the necklace. "Can I keep this on, though? For today at least?"

Steve leaned over, smiling, and kissed him gently. "I bought it for you, it's yours. You wear it as long as you're comfortable."

Eddie smiled back, leaning in, asking for another kiss which Steve happily gave him.

"Can we watch another movie?" Eddie asked, guilelessly, knowing they still had yard work to do.

Steve laughed at his blatant attempt to get out of going back outside. "Yeah, babe, let's watch another. You pick this time."

Eddie hopped up excitedly, feeling rejuvenated after floating away for so long. He popped in a movie, swung by the chair to grab the blanket, and plopped back down against Steve.

At some point they would need to talk and reassess their dynamic and interests, but that was for another day.

Today was for yard work and movies.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

[that-darn-clown]

Wait til they find out about nake charles

Max lore: I call bounce houses Jump Jumps. That was so interesting to explain to Dandy for the first time.

[hedarose]

Jackie x Natalie

Home (pt. 1)

———————————————————————————

The two girls were a bit of an odd pairing. But they seemed to fit together pretty well for being as grouchy as they both were. Both now being 28 and living basically off grid they preferred the life they’d built together. After being rescued they stuck together and moved to a secluded property that Jackie bought with money her parents gave her. On it was a small house that was a single story two bedroom home meant for whoever was tending the land, a small pond and an abandoned railroad track that ran through the back forty and was literally falling apart.

The house was quaint, it had a green roof and barely still white siding. It was kinda cute, it had a rustic charm to it. Natalie spent a lot of time in the pole barn on the opposite side of the gravel driveway, she got into some mechanic work after returning from their stint in the wilderness. Jackie preferred to be in the sunshine with her animals, she had a plethora of them. The ducks tended to follow her around like a little train, the chickens would roam the property and look for grub during the daylight hours and the goats needed to stay within the fence or else they would eat the seats off of whatever project Natalie was working on in the barn and she would lose her mind.

That’s how today finds them, Natalie has the barn door wide open and the radio playing low enough so she can listen if Jackie needs her help. She has the riding lawn mower opened up and she’s upgrading some of the older parts, just freshening it up for the summer.

Jackie is over by the chicken coop finishing up a corner where she had to put up some new chicken wire along the posts of the fenced in area. The raccoons had been attempting the break in and their efforts had only been successful in pissing Jackie off. As she gets the last bit secured and cuts off the unused wire she turns around and sees her beagle laying on its back rubbing itself in the grass. She smiles and lays down the roll of excess chicken wire before removing her work gloves, reaching down to pet Olive’s tummy and give her some scratches. Jackie kneels down and gives her dog some kisses while continuing to scratch her tummy.

Suddenly the dog jumps up and alerts that she hears a noise, Jackie stands and looks around for Nat. She sees her standing about 20 feet away in the entrance of the garage looking out and signs, “what?” While tilting her head.

Natalie just shakes her head softly while admiring Jackie and continues to wipe her hands off with an oil rag. Once she's done she drops the rag and signs back to the girl, "just enjoying the view from here."

Jackie raises a brow at the girl before giving her hips a little shake, ya know, enticing her. Foolish, whatever, she smiles and gathers the roll of chicken wire and her gloves to walk back over to Natalie and the barn. Olive makes it before she does and jumps up on Natalie for some pets. Natalie tends to the dogs needs while Jackie places the chicken wire back up on the storage shelf. As she climbs down the ladder Natalie taps her back to get her attention. As Jackie spins she sees Natalie gesturing to her ears, Jackie reaches down into her overalls big front pocket and reveals her very much not attached cochlear implants and giggles before putting them back in their hiding spot.

Natalie shakes her head smiling softly before gesturing and mouthing, "what am I gonna do with you girl?" Before reaching for Jackie and pulling her in close and nuzzling the sweaty girls neck. She pulls her face back to show Jackie her scrunched nose at the sweat she's encountered. Jackie sticks her tongue out and snakes a hand in between them to sign, "fuck you" before leaning in and kissing Natalie. Sweat be damned. Natalie accepts the kiss graciously and pulls Jackie in by her hips.

When they separate Natalie makes a gesture for water and Jackie nods and gives Natalie a tap on the butt as she walks away, Natalie looks back scandalized by this. Jackie just giggles again as she always does, Natalie walks to their little mini fridge and pulls out two cold bottles of water and passes one off to the other girl. Jackie signs a quick thanks before she chugs half her bottle, it really was hot today and the sun was beating down on the non shaded part of the property that Jackie was just working.

“Did you get the chicken coop all set back up how you wanted it?” Natalie asks with her hands while holding the neck of the bottle with her teeth. Jackie pfts with her mouth and pulls the bottle out of her mouth and makes the girl hold it.

She nods back as she sets her own bottle down on the picnic table they have in the barn, “you know I did, those fuckers won’t be able to reach inside that corner anymore.”

“Good news,” Natalie signs back waving her brows at Jackie. Jackie reaches over and gives the girl a light shove, anytime she accomplishes anything Natalie acts like she is the big boss of the property taking care of it and it makes her blush.

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Now the "grouchy" stereotype of the two of them comes from whenever they have to venture into town, mostly it's for groceries or animal feed/supplies. But, the sign language that Jackie and Natalie speak as well as all of the girls that still occasionally visit is not official sign language. None of the girls knew how to ASL when they crashed, and Jackie losing her hearing randomly after almost dying was like a one in a million chance. When her body went into its state of hypothermia she had a stroke and that’s the only thing that the doctors can attribute her hearing loss to possibly be caused by. So people don’t really have a way to communicate with Jackie if they do know actual ASL and she absolutely refuses to wear her cochlear implants in public, because she didn’t want them in the first place. And Natalie is about as useful for speaking for the two of them as a literal box of fucking rocks, she is the least sociable person in public that Jackie has ever seen. And Jackie lost all hope of trying to enjoy leaving their property the moment they made it their home and safe haven. So needless to say the townsfolk find them fucking odd to say the least, Jackie is deaf and doesn’t make any attempts to communicate and Natalie will mumble out some answers here and there… rarely.

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Now Olive was purely a want not a need. See when the girls were rescued and Jackie’s parents realized that their daughter could no longer hear them they immediately without consideration of her wants went ahead and paid for Jackie to get her implants put in. Jackie fucking hated them immediately, over the years she had gotten used to them as the noises have gotten better and less robot sounding. But, her choices were literally silence or all of the fuzz and all of the noises all of the time… she just wants the silence.

And Natalie never had an issue with it, by the time they got rescued the two girls had an almost complete understanding of each other non verbally. And Jackie was damn good at reading the groups lips too so all of them got practice at helping each other learn their new normal. Upon the return home and trying to relearn how to hear with the implants in and not having the ability to hear Natalie’s voice the same way she just wanted them off more than she wanted them on.

Now that wouldn’t be an issue, but Jackie startled extremely easily and in the wilderness there was always someone around so Jackie could always have a body in her peripheral. At home with just Natalie she didn’t like the feeling of constant stress of not knowing when someone was going to be walking up to her. Therefore Olive was adopted, she learned what her job was extremely fast, she only deviates from Jackie’s side to greet her other mom obviously, but only very briefly as Natalie isn’t her main concern. Olive also points her body and stays still when someone is speaking so Jackie knows to look around for either Natalie or whatever one of the girls is stopping by that day. So she wasn’t exactly top priority upon returning home, but she’s a perfect addition to their little farm.

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Part Two

I have been working on this for I think like a week, deleting - rewriting - deleting - rewriting. I’m just gonna post it and if anyone likes the idea let me know and I can continue on with this little world idea lol. I tried to be accurate with stuff.