#real talk though his nails do look nice

[brunchable]

How To Impress a 21st Century Girl.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Themes: Rom-Com, Fluff, Mutual Pining(Heavy?), First Date, Flirtation and Playfulness.

Summary: Sam had forced Bucky to use Tinder to solve his abysmal love life. Bucky tells himself that if third time isn't a charm, he will officially give up trying to find a partner.

A/N: I'm a sucker for rom-coms, I hope you guys enjoyed this because I enjoyed writing it.

tags: @hzdhrtss @winterslove1917

It had all been Sam’s idea. "Come on, man. You need to get back out there!" Sam had said, way too enthusiastically, while setting up a Tinder profile for him without even asking. Bucky had resisted at first, arguing that dating apps probably weren't his thing. But Sam was persistent, reminding him that it was 2024, not 1944, and that "no one meets in grocery stores anymore."

Reluctantly, Bucky had gone along with it, figuring it couldn’t hurt to try. What was the worst that could happen?

Well, now he knew.

Bucky was starting to think Tinder was out to get him. His first two dates had been disasters—and not just normal awkwardness, but spectacularly bad. The first girl, Jenny, had brought her ex-boyfriend to the date. Apparently, he was her ride, and they were still "good friends." Bucky had spent two hours third-wheeling a reunion he hadn’t signed up for. The second girl, Alicia, had a collection of ceramic frogs. And when Bucky said “collection,” he meant obsession. The girl spent an entire dinner showing him photos of different frog figurines. It was ribbiting. Literally. One of them even made croaking sounds.

So, now here he was, on date number three, standing outside some trendy café, wondering what fresh nightmare awaited him. This time, though, he’d let you plan the date. Maybe handing over control would be better than having to smile through another amphibian-themed dinner.

You showed up right on time, and Bucky was genuinely relieved to see no ex-boyfriend hovering in the background. You were wearing a paneled knit dress with spaghetti straps that hugged you just right, and your short hair was perfectly tousled. You smiled at him, but the look on your face told him you were just as unsure as he was.

“Hi,” you greeted, and Bucky instantly forgot every single normal response. Holy shit he is TALL.

“Hey, I’m Bucky.” he mumbled back. He was really nailing this whole dating thing.

You walked inside, and the café had that minimalist vibe. A lot of plants. A lot of exposed brick. The kind of place where you’re not sure if you’re supposed to sit or admire the interior design.

As you both sat down, Bucky tried to channel his inner suave. He could do this. He had faced way worse than an awkward date. Like alien invasions. Like that one time he lost his arm again. This was nothing.

Except... why was talking to an attractive woman harder than fighting off super soldiers?

“I, uh, like your dress,” Bucky said, already feeling the heat creep up his neck. Nice, Barnes, real original.

“Thanks,” you replied, with an amused smile playing on your lips. “I like your... jacket.”

Bucky nodded, looking down at his worn leather jacket. “Yeah. It’s... warm.”

Warm? That’s what you’re going with? He mentally slapped himself. This was going well. So well. He tried to change the subject and scanned the menu. “Uh... so, what’s good here?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never been,” you said, fiddling with the edge of your napkin. “The internet said they have good coffee, though.”

“Internet reviews, huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow. “That’s always a gamble. Could be great... could be a disaster.”

Cue the awkward silence.

The waiter had barely placed the food in front of you both before the quiet tension stretched between you like you were sitting in a library, not a café. Bucky poked at his bagel as if it might come to life at any moment, while you took a delicate sip of your coffee, your eyes darting between him and the wall behind him.

You both chewed in the most nonchalant way possible, each of you hyper-aware of the silence that was growing louder by the second. You were mentally cursing every decision that led to this exact moment, and Bucky, for his part, was questioning whether retiring from the whole Avenger thing had been a mistake.

Say something. Anything, Bucky thought, taking another bite of his bagel, which suddenly felt like chewing rubber. Ask about herr favorite food? No, that’s boring. Comment on the weather? Oh, yeah, nothing like ‘Hey, it’s been cold lately,’ to really sweep her off her feet. Real smooth.

Meanwhile, you were trying to figure out how you managed to forget how to make normal conversation. Maybe ask him about his hobbies? No, that’s basic. Compliment his hair? What are you, in fifth grade? Pull yourself together!

Bucky, still chewing the world’s driest bagel, caught your eye for a split second, and you both did that polite half-smile thing that happens when you’re not sure whether you should talk or continue pretending to enjoy the food.

Did she just smile at me because I’m being awkward, or am I overthinking this? Bucky wondered, immediately breaking eye contact and pretending his coffee was the most fascinating thing on the table.

You, on the other hand, were screaming internally. Oh God, did I smile too weird? Was it the kind of smile that says, ‘I like you,’ or the one that says, ‘I’m trapped in this date and don’t know how to escape’?

You both took another sip of your drinks at the exact same time.

Alright, Barnes, get it together. Say something smart, Bucky told himself, putting his mug down carefully.

“So, uh... how’s your coffee?”

You blinked, your brain scrambling for a response. How’s my coffee? It’s coffee. Just say it’s good. Don’t overthink it.

“It’s... good. How’s your bagel?”

Bucky looked down at the circular piece of bread like it had personally betrayed him. “It’s... round.”

Round? Really? You went with ‘round’? Smooth, real smooth, he chastised himself, nodding like he had just made the most profound statement about bagels ever.

Your lips twitched. Did he just describe his food as ‘round’? Okay, maybe I’m not the only one struggling here.

You took another sip of your coffee, trying to hide your smile. God, this is like watching two middle schoolers on a first date.

You both glanced at each other again. Smile. Look away. Silence.

Bucky ran a hand through his hair. Alright, clearly, she thinks I’m a complete idiot. But it’s fine. I can recover. Just... find a topic. Literally any topic.

You picked at your napkin. Okay, maybe I should mention the escape room next. But what if he hates escape rooms? What if he thinks they’re boring? You cleared your throat slightly, ready to speak, but then—

Bucky cleared his throat at the same time. You both froze, staring at each other like deer caught in headlights.

“You go first,” Bucky said quickly.

“No, no, you first,” you insisted, waving your hand.

Bucky’s brain blanked. He blinked, searching for anything to say. “Uh... did you... park nearby?”

You stared at him, and then a smile slowly spread across your face. Did he really just ask me about parking? You nodded. “No I–um took public transport. Did you?”

Bucky gave a stiff nod. “Yeah. Close. Very close. Super convenient.”

You both stared at each other for a beat, and then, in a miraculous moment, you both cracked up at the exact same time.

“Parking?” you laughed, shaking your head. “That’s the best we’ve got?”

Bucky held up his hands. “Hey, I panicked, okay? The bagel threw me off.”

You wiped a tear from your eye, your shoulders shaking with laughter. “And I thought the frogs were bad.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh harder. “Okay, in my defense, this date is way better than ceramic frogs.”

“Glad to be the non-frog date.” You raised your cup in mock salute.

You both chuckled, and for the first time, the awkward tension seemed to melt away. Sure, you were a bit of a mess, but at least you were a mess together.

As you calmed down, you leaned forward, a playful grin on your face. “So, what’s next? You ready for the escape room?”

“I dunno. Should I be worried?” Bucky smirked, feeling a lot lighter.

“Only if you’re bad at puzzles,” you teased.

Bucky crossed his arms, leaning back with a smirk. “Oh, trust me, I think I’ll manage.”

And with that, you both finally stood up to head for the next part of your date, the awkwardness left behind with the round bagel and the overly complicated coffee.

× × × ×

As soon as you stepped into the Asylum escape room, the mood shifted from "awkward first date" to "this might be how I die."

Oh, great. Creepy hospital décor. Perfect first-date vibes. You eyed the flickering lights and eerie medical tools scattered around the room, trying not to let on how much it was creeping you out. At least it’s better than ceramic frogs, you thought, glancing at Bucky.

“This is supposed to be the hardest escape room they have,” you said, glancing at Bucky. “Takes most people at least an hour. You ready for this?”

“Yeah, sure. I mean... it’s puzzles, right? How hard can it be?” Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets, trying to appear calm. I’ve literally fought aliens. How bad could a few puzzles be?

“You’ve never done one of these before, right?” You looked at him, a bit skeptical.

He shook his head. “First time. But, uh... I’m good under pressure.” Under pressure? What am I saying? I sound like I’m about to defuse a bomb, not solve a riddle. Get a grip, Barnes.

“Alright. Let’s do this.” You smiled, trying to hide your own nerves. 

The clock started ticking, and immediately, you were plunged into darkness. A loud creak echoed through the room, followed by a voice over the intercom: “Welcome to the Asylum. You have 60 minutes to escape. Good luck... you’ll need it.”

Perfect. Creepy voice? Check. Flickering lights? Check. Yep, I'm doomed. You moved toward a stack of papers, squinting at the dim lighting. “Okay, first thing’s first... we need to find the clues hidden in this room to unlock the door.”

Before you could even start, Bucky was already inspecting a random pipe on the wall. He tugged at it, and it came loose, revealing a hidden key taped to the back. Oh, that was... lucky? Or did I just break something?

You froze mid-step. “Wait. How did you—”

“I... uh... just pulled on it.” Bucky looked just as surprised as you. Did I just accidentally solve this?

“Okay. Lucky guess.” You stared at him. 

Bucky shrugged. “Maybe.” Play it cool, Barnes. Don't look like you’re clueless here.

You both moved into the next room, which had even creepier décor. Faint writing on the walls, jars filled with unidentifiable things, and a mannequin in the corner that Bucky immediately side-eyed like it was going to jump out at you. Okay, I don’t trust that mannequin. Why’s it looking at me like that?

You picked up a piece of paper with some cryptic writing on it. “This says something about finding the light within the dark. I think it’s a clue. We need to—”

“Found it,” Bucky called out.

You turned to see him holding up a blacklight. How does he keep doing this?! 

“They always hide something with a blacklight, right?” He grinned, flashing the light on the wall, revealing a series of glowing numbers. That’s a thing, right? People hide stuff with these lights all the time... right?

“Oh, you’re just full of ideas now, huh?” You crossed your arms, smirking.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, trying to play it cool. “Just... using my instincts.” Yep. Totally knew that.

You worked through the next few puzzles, but by "worked," what you really meant was Bucky accidentally stumbling into the solutions. Every time you tried to figure out a clue, Bucky would casually touch something, pull a lever, or press a random button that—surprise—opened the next door or revealed the next key. At first, you thought he was joking. But as the minutes ticked by, it became clear: Bucky was somehow solving the escape room by sheer dumb luck—or so you thought.

This is starting to freak me out... Am I secretly a genius? Bucky thought.

At one point, you were trying to decipher a complicated code etched into the wall, mumbling to yourself about numerology and patterns, when Bucky—completely oblivious—pulled a book off the shelf, and a hidden door creaked open in the floor.

No. No way. “Are you—” You blinked. “Did you just—”

Bucky glanced at the open trapdoor, confused. “What? Was that not supposed to happen?”

You slapped your forehead. “No! I mean, yes, but—oh my God, Bucky, you’re breaking the game.”

He raised his hands in surrender. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose!” Seriously, I just touched a book. How is that a thing?

You looked down at the trapdoor, then back at him. “What are you? A puzzle savant? Did you plan this?”

Bucky laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head. “Nah, I just thought the book looked weird.” Great, now she thinks I’m some kind of escape room wizard.

You gaped at him. “The book looked weird?” Weird? Dude, I’m starting to think you have X-ray vision.

“I mean... yeah. It was dusty.” It wasn’t even that weird... or was it?

You squinted at him, hands on your hips. “You’re telling me you spotted a dusty book and thought, ‘Aha! Hidden door.’?”

“Isn’t that... what you’re supposed to do in these rooms?” Bucky shrugged, looking genuinely sorry. Please tell me that's how this works.

This man is unbelievable. You stared at him for a long moment before bursting out laughing. “Oh my God. You’re accidentally good at this. You’re just walking around solving stuff like you do this every weekend!”

Bucky chuckled, his shoulders relaxing a little. I have no idea what I’m doing, but I’m glad she’s laughing. “I swear I’ve never done this before.” This isn’t even the weirdest thing that’s happened to me this week.

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or terrified,” you teased, stepping closer to him. “You’re like a walking cheat code.” Sure, Sherlock. Whatever you say.

“Hey, I’m just here to help.” He smiled, clearly enjoying your reaction. At least she’s impressed. That’s something.

I think you might secretly be a robot. You shook your head, grinning. “Alright, escape room prodigy, let’s see if you can crack the last one.”

You entered the final room—a dimly lit chamber with a creepy-looking mannequin in the corner and random medical equipment scattered around. You narrowed your eyes.

“Okay, this is the hardest part. No way you’re going to just... guess your way out of this one.”

“Yeah, this one’s. . . tricky.” Bucky glanced around, clearly trying to look casual. Please don’t let me stumble into the solution again... 

Please don’t let him find the solution immediately. Just this once.

You pointed at the mannequin. “We need to find a code hidden somewhere in this room. The clue says it’s ���locked in the mind.’ So it has to be something mental, right? Like a puzzle?”

Bucky stared at the mannequin for a second, then slowly reached out and twisted its head off. Inside, there was a slip of paper with the code on it. Oh, come on. You’ve got to be kidding me.

“Are you KIDDING me?!” Your jaw dropped. 

“I just thought... you know... maybe the head comes off?” Bucky held up the paper, looking sheepish. 

Why am I even here?! You threw your hands up in the air. “Of COURSE the head comes off! Because that makes total sense! Sure!”

Bucky bit back a laugh. “Well, it did say ‘locked in the mind.’” Technically, I was right.

You glared at him, then shook your head, laughing despite yourself. “Okay, that’s it. You’re banned from escape rooms. You ruin them.”

“Ruined it?” Bucky asked, grinning. “We escaped, didn’t we?” She’s totally impressed, even if she won’t admit it.

“We escaped in twelve minutes, Bucky! Twelve!” You slapped his arm playfully. “That’s not normal!”

He laughed, ducking his head. “Sorry?” Guess I’m not so bad at this ‘fun date’ thing.

As you both stepped out of the escape room, the staff was standing there, looking like they’d just witnessed the impossible.

“You’re... done?” Pink-haired Girl asked, your eyes wide with disbelief.

Wow. They look like I just told them Santa isn’t real, Bucky thought.

You, just as confused, looked over at Bucky. “Uh. . .yeah, I guess?”

“Looks like it.” Bucky gave a casual shrug. No big deal. Just casually shattering dreams.

Clipboard Guy checked his stopwatch again, his mouth hanging open. “Twelve minutes. No. That’s not possible. People are supposed to break down in there. We’ve had people cry!”

Cry? What is this, an escape room or emotional boot camp? “You want me to go back in and tear up a little? You know, for the full experience?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

“People have left that room emotionally damaged. You just... strolled out.” Pink-haired Girl blinked. 

You stared at Bucky, still wrapping your head around it. “I didn’t even get through the first clue, and you were already unlocking half the room.”

“You were working hard. I just sped things up a bit.” Bucky chuckled softly, glancing at you with a playful smile. I mean, you were giving it a solid effort...

The Master of Puzzles guy appeared, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Did you... have the answers beforehand? Because that’s the hardest room we’ve got. We’ve had people rage-quit in there.”

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, looking amused. “Nah, just good at finding my way out of things.”

“I didn’t even do anything. You solved the whole thing!” You shook your head, still half-laughing, half in disbelief.

“Hey, you were a great moral support.” Bucky smiled at you, nudging you lightly. Seriously, though, it’s good to have someone to watch while I dismantle a room’s dignity.

Clipboard Guy muttered, “We’re gonna have to ban him. He’s banned.”

Oh no, I’ve ruined their sacred puzzle temple.

“He broke the hardest room we’ve got. Who even does that?” Pink-haired Girl nodded, still dumbfounded. 

“Well, I’d offer to go back and struggle a bit, but... I don’t think it’d be convincing.” Bucky smirked, leaning casually against the counter. Trust me, I can’t fake being bad at something. Even if I tried.

As you headed for the exit, Bucky held the door open for you, giving the staff one last glance before he leaned over to you, voice low. 

“What? You wanted to be stuck in there all night?”

“Honestly? It would’ve been nice to solve at least one puzzle.” You groaned, though you were smiling.

“Next time, I’ll let you have the first clue. Promise.” Bucky chuckled softly. And by let you, I mean I’ll stand far away from everything and try not to accidentally win.

 “You better.” You laughed, shaking your head as you both stepped out into the night.

× × × ×

The arcade was buzzing with lights, sounds, and the faint scent of popcorn. It was a complete shift from the eerie asylum escape room, and you were already eyeing the rows of flashing machines and claw games with glee.

Alright, this is more like it. No creepy mannequins here, just good old-fashioned fun.

Bucky, on the other hand, looked around like he had just entered a foreign world. The last time he’d been in an arcade, they didn’t have all this flashing neon or half the games that were here now. What happened to the simple stuff? Pinball machines and jukeboxes. Now I’ve got ten-foot robots staring at me while kids slap buttons like their lives depend on it.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile at how excited you looked. Okay, if she’s this excited, maybe this won’t be so bad.

“Okay, so... how does this place work again?” he asked, watching a kid furiously slap buttons at a nearby game.

You laughed, giving him a gentle nudge. “It’s simple! We just play a bunch of games, earn tickets, and then trade them in for really weird prizes. Easy.”

Bucky nodded, though he still looked a little confused. “So, you win tickets by—?”

“By being amazing at games, obviously,” you said, your eyes already darting toward a nearby basketball shooting game. “Let’s see if you can keep up.”

Bucky followed you, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, I’ll keep up.” Alright, let’s see if I remember how to be competitive at... basketball?

You started with basketball, and while you had a decent shot, Bucky quickly became the Michael Jordan of arcade basketball. He tossed shot after shot into the hoop with ridiculous ease, barely even looking like he was trying.

Oh, come on. Seriously? Why is he good at everything? You shook your head in disbelief. “Oh, come on. Are you serious right now? Are you even aiming?”

“I dunno. I just... throw.” Bucky shrugged, not missing a single shot. 

“This is what I get for going on a date with someone who’s literally built for accuracy.” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him. Why am I pretending like I’m mad? It’s honestly impressive.

He flashed a boyish grin. “You wanted to see if I could keep up.” Oh, I’m keeping up, doll.

You crossed your arms, pretending to pout. “I wasn’t trying to lose in record time.”

When the game ended, Bucky had a ridiculous amount of points, and you had... well, significantly fewer. He collected your combined tickets from the machine, glancing down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Should I carry these, or do you want to hold on to the three tickets you earned?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

How is he still charming even while teasing me? This is unfair. You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you snatched a couple of tickets from his hand with a grin. “You know what? Fuck you.”

“Careful, doll. You keep talking like that, and I might just take you up on it.” Bucky’s smirk widened, and he leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice just enough to make your pulse quicken. 

Okay, that was a little too good. I should not be blushing right now. Your eyes widened for a second, a flush creeping up your neck before you shot him a playful glare. “You wish.”

“You know I don’t have to wish for anything.” He chuckled, stepping back with a wink.

Well, that escalated quickly. You tried to bite back your smile, but it was impossible with the way he was looking at you. “I’m starting to regret bringing you here.”

Bucky held up the stack of tickets, grinning like a kid who just won the lottery. “You’re only regretting it because I’m walking away with all the prizes.” Did I just turn an arcade into a battlefield?

“Yeah, yeah, keep rubbing it in.” You huffed, shaking your head, though the smile on your face said otherwise. 

Bucky shot you another wink. “Oh, I plan to.”

This guy is dangerous with that smile. You smirked, leaning in a little. “So... what happened to the awkward guy who pointed out that bagels are round? Because this,” you waved at the arcade tickets, “does not feel like the same guy.”

“What? You weren’t impressed by my bagel observations?” Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. I was doing my best back then, okay?

You laughed, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, I was very impressed. I just didn’t know you were hiding this arcade legend behind all that bagel wisdom.”

He grinned, eyes glinting. “I’m full of surprises, doll.” You have no idea.

“Clearly,” you said, still teasing him as you walked toward the next game. “Let’s see how many more surprises you’ve got.”

You dragged him over to the shooting gallery game, where you were met with an array of plastic rifles and paper targets.

“I’m kinda good at this,” you declared, grabbing one of the rifles with renewed determination. “You can’t have a crazy aim for everything.” Finally, something I can win.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “Okay. Let’s see what you got.”

You aimed and fired... missing every single target. You winced as the targets flipped back and forth, mocking you with their tiny, evil faces. Are you kidding me?

“You’re holding it too tight.” Bucky stepped up beside you, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. 

“Oh, great. Here we go. The expert.” You groaned. Of course, I’m holding it too tight. Leave it to Bucky to know everything.

Bucky smiled, but instead of saying anything, he stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around you, his hands gently guiding yours on the plastic gun. You froze, your heart skipping a beat as you felt the warmth of him so close. His breath was soft against your ear as he leaned in to guide your aim, his voice low and steady.

Why does he have to be so good at this? I can barely think straight.

“Relax,” he murmured, his hands adjusting yours gently. “Don’t grip it so hard. Just like this.”

How am I supposed to relax when he’s practically wrapped around me?

Your pulse quickened, your senses suddenly overwhelmed by how close he was. His cologne—woodsy and warm—filled your lungs, making you a little dizzy. You swallowed hard, focusing on anything but the way your back pressed against his chest. “Okay... relax. Right. Got it.”

“You’re not relaxing.” Bucky’s voice was low, almost teasing.

Yeah, no kidding. Not exactly easy when you smell like a lumberjack dream. 

“I am relaxed!” you shot back, though your heart was racing so fast you were sure he could hear it.

Bucky chuckled, and the soft rumble of his laugh vibrated against your back. “If you were relaxed, you wouldn’t be holding your breath.” 

If she’s holding her breath, I must be doing something right.

You blinked, realizing that yes, you were in fact holding your breath. You exhaled slowly, trying to focus on the targets instead of the fact that Bucky was basically wrapped around you.

“Good,” he said quietly, his hands still steadying yours. “Now, pull the trigger. Nice and easy.”

Yeah, this is totally normal. Just shooting targets, totally not thinking about how close we are.

You followed his lead, squeezing the trigger gently. The shot rang out, and the sound of a hit echoed through the machine. The target flipped backward, signaling a perfect hit.

“I did it!” you exclaimed, your excitement bubbling over as you turned your head to look at him.

Your faces were just inches apart. Bucky’s eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The air between you was thick with tension, the good kind—the kind that makes your heart race and your stomach flip.

God, she’s close. Just a little closer...

Your gaze flickered down to his lips, and Bucky swallowed hard, momentarily forgetting where you were or what you were doing. All he could think about was how easy it would be to lean in just a little more, to—

“Uh, sorry!” A kid nearby bumped into the machine, jolting you both out of the moment.

Of course. Great timing, kid.

You quickly stepped out of Bucky’s embrace, your face flushed. “Well, um... thanks for the lesson, Barnes.”

Bucky cleared his throat, his ears a little pink. “Yeah. Anytime.” Anytime? Seriously, Barnes? That’s all you’ve got?

You moved on to a few more games, but the tension between you still lingered, electric and unspoken. After a particularly intense game of air hockey (where you almost won, thanks to Bucky being a little too distracted by you), you found yourselves at the prize counter.

Your eyes scanned the shelves, but one prize in particular caught your attention: an absolutely massive goose plush sitting at the top of the prize display. It was ridiculous, almost comically large, but it made you smile instantly.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, pointing. “That goose is so cute.”

Bucky followed your gaze and raised an eyebrow. A goose? Really? She could pick anything, and it’s that giant bird?

“You like that thing?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“I mean, look at it. It’s the size of a couch,” you said, laughing. “No one’s ever gonna win enough tickets for that.”

Bucky looked thoughtful for a second. Then, without saying a word, he handed all of your tickets to the guy at the counter. Challenge accepted, doll.

The kid behind the counter stared at him. “Uh, you know this isn’t enough for the goose, right?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, but... what’s it take to win that thing?”

Because clearly, winning giant plush birds is my new priority in life.

The kid blinked. “Like... a thousand tickets.”

Bucky smirked, then turned to you. “Wait here.”

“What are you doing?” You frowned, confused. 

Please don’t say you’re going to try and win a thousand tickets... oh my God, he’s going to try and win a thousand tickets.

Bucky said nothing and disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later, you saw him at one of those old-school, rigged basketball games. His face was calm, determined—like he was about to go to war.

One after the other, Bucky sank shot after shot, racking up points so fast that you had to rub your eyes to believe it. Within minutes, he had earned a mountain of tickets. He moved on to another game, this time skee-ball, and then to another. Every single game, he dominated, earning enough tickets to make the counter kid’s jaw drop when he returned with what looked like a roll of tickets big enough to use as a belt.

“Holy crap,” you muttered, watching as Bucky handed the tickets over, a satisfied smirk on his face. The kid counted them, eyes wide, then slowly reached for the giant goose plush.

The oversized goose was practically half Bucky’s height as he carried it back over to you, grinning.

“Here you go,” he said, handing it to you with a proud look. “You said you liked it, right?”

Who just... casually wins a giant goose plush? How did he do that?

You stared at the giant, fluffy creature, then at him, your heart flipping over itself. “Bucky... this is insane. It’s huge.”

“Well, I couldn’t just leave without winning you something.” He shrugged, his grin boyish and a little shy. Yeah, Barnes, act like you’re not insanely proud of yourself right now. 

He’s... adorable. Stop. Focus. “You really didn’t have to... but I love it.” You laughed, hugging the goose to your chest. 

“Good.” Bucky’s eyes softened as he watched you smile. Worth every single ticket.

Your heart raced, your face heating up as you looked at him over the massive plush. “You’re full of surprises, Barnes. Who knew you’d be this good at arcades?”

Just trying to impress the girl, no big deal.

“Maybe I just wanted to impress you.” He smiled, a little more reserved this time.

Well, mission accomplished, buddy. You blushed, the air between you crackling again with that familiar tension. “Well, mission accomplished.”

You stood there for a moment, just smiling at each other, the absurdly large goose between you, until you laughed and nudged him with your elbow.

“You know, this might be the best date I’ve ever been on,” you said, your tone light but sincere. Was that too much? Did I just over-share?

Bucky’s smile grew, his eyes softening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you said softly, holding the goose a little tighter. “Definitely the best.” Okay, that was smooth. Not awkward at all.

You left the arcade with the giant goose plush between you, its goofy face almost mocking the awkwardness that had suddenly crept back into your steps. Bucky walked beside you, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, trying to figure out what to say.

Do I say something? Or just... keep walking?

The sounds of the city filled the silence around you, but neither of you spoke. The playful energy from the arcade had faded into something quieter, more uncertain.

Why am I so bad at this? Just say something, Barnes.

After a long stretch of quiet, Bucky cleared his throat. “So... is this the end?” Smooth, real smooth.

You blinked and glanced over at him, trying to keep your heart from doing a flip at his words. “Well, that’s all I had planned. Why?”

Bucky hesitated, his jaw tightening slightly as he looked ahead, his mind clearly weighing something. Okay, don’t screw this up. Don’t sound too eager.

For a moment, you thought maybe he was going to say goodbye, that maybe this was the end of your date after all. But then, he spoke quietly, almost as if he was embarrassed to admit it.

“I kind of don’t want to go home yet.” Well, there it is. Now she knows.

You felt a flutter in your chest, your face heating up as a small, shy smile tugged at your lips. You ducked your head, looking down at the sidewalk to hide the blush creeping across your cheeks. The way he said it—so simple but sincere—made your heart skip.

Why does that sound so much cuter than it should? You bit your lip, an idea suddenly coming to you.

“Well...” you started, glancing up at him. “There’s a new building by the riverside with a sky deck. It just opened recently, and it’s supposed to have the best view of the city.”

“Sky deck, huh?” Bucky raised an eyebrow, intrigued. A sky deck? Yeah, that sounds better than awkwardly walking home.

You nodded, a little more excited now. “Yeah. It’s pretty high up, and overlooks the whole city. I haven’t been yet, but I heard it’s amazing at night.”

“Sounds better than going home.” Bucky tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a soft smile. Thank God. I’m not ready for this to be over yet.

“Then let’s go.” You grinned, feeling your heart race just a little faster. 

You shared a quick, almost nervous glance at each other before walking in the direction of the riverside. The awkwardness wasn’t completely gone, but now, it was laced with anticipation, a kind of giddy energy that made your stomach flutter. You hugged the plush goose a little tighter, trying not to let your excitement show too much, but inside, you were buzzing.

× × × × 

The city lights shimmered below you as you lounged on the comfy chairs, drinks in hand. The night air was cool, but it didn’t come close to breaking the warmth buzzing between you and Bucky.

She’s... something else, Bucky thought, leaning back slightly. His gaze kept shifting between the breathtaking skyline and you, but he found himself more captivated by you. How am I supposed to focus on the view when she looks like that?

Noticing the quiet, you smirked. “So, you were really gonna end the night without showing off more of your endless talents?”

Oh, she’s teasing now. Alright, two can play this game. Bucky raised an eyebrow, amused. “What, beating you at arcade games wasn’t enough?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re a walking cheat code, Bucky. But I feel like there’s more you’re holding back.”

His eyes flickered over your face, lingering on your lips for just a little too long. More than you know, doll. “Maybe I am.”

Your breath caught for a second, but you quickly recovered, tilting your head and flashing him a grin. “Oh yeah? Like what? Some secret talent I should know about?”

Keep your cool, Barnes. Don't blow it now.

Bucky leaned in just a fraction, his voice lowering, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve. But I only show them to people who ask nicely.”

God, does he have to sound that smooth? Your heart flipped at the way he was looking at you, intense, as if he was seeing through every joke and teasing comment. How am I supposed to keep this casual?

“Nicely, huh? And what do I have to do for you to show me?” you asked, your voice quieter now, the playful banter fading into something more charged.

“Keep hanging around,” he said softly.

I’m in deep now. Bucky's eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. Should I kiss her? Maybe I’m reading this wrong...

His eyes dropped to your lips again, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to blur into nothing. It was just him—his voice, his presence, the way he was looking at you like he wanted to kiss you but was holding back.

You swallowed, feeling the tension build like a slow fire. You sipped your drink, trying to cool yourself down, but it did little to shake the feeling that something between you had shifted. Stop overthinking, just go with it.

“I could do that,” you murmured, a small smile playing on your lips. You felt his eyes on you, and the air between you felt electric. You glanced at him, catching him staring at your lips again. Your pulse jumped. He’s really staring... isn’t he?

“You’re staring,” you said, teasing, though your voice had a soft edge to it, your heart thudding in your chest.

Bucky blinked, caught, but instead of pulling away, he smirked. “Am I?”

Yeah, Bucky, play it cool. Like you haven’t been staring for the past five minutes.

“Mhm,” you teased, though your voice was barely steady. Why does that smirk make my heart race? “I mean, I get it. The view’s great and all.”

Bucky’s smirk deepened, his voice dropping lower. “You could say that.”

I can’t believe this is actually happening. You felt your face heat up at the way he was looking at you. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach do wild flips. Why is this so... intense?

“You’re not just talking about the city, are you?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled softly, sending shivers down your spine. Just kiss her already. “Maybe not.”

Your breath hitched. “And what are you looking at?”

He leaned in slightly, his gaze locked on yours. “What do you think?”

She knows exactly what I’m looking at. 

Your heart raced, the pull between you growing stronger with every passing second. His eyes kept flicking down to your lips, making you wonder if he was going to kiss you. I really shouldn’t wait any longer...

Bucky cleared his throat suddenly, as if shaking off the trance he’d been in, and leaned back into his seat, looking almost embarrassed. Okay, maybe I’m rushing this.

“Sorry... I didn’t mean to—”

“No,” you interrupted quickly, your voice softer, gentler now. God, why did he stop? “Don’t be. I didn’t mind.”

His gaze snapped back to yours, the tension flaring again. She didn’t mind? Well, maybe I didn’t screw up, after all—or I did because you didn’t kiss her you idiot. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, a soft smile tugged at his lips, and his expression softened.

“So... orthopedic ward, huh?” he said, shifting the conversation, though his eyes were still locked on you. “How do you handle that? All those broken bones?”

Smooth, Barnes. Talk about bones to distract yourself from the fact you were just about to kiss her.

You took a deep breath, relieved for the break in intensity but missing it instantly. Great, now I’m thinking about how close he was... “Well, it’s mostly convincing people not to do dumb things. Like skateboarding down staircases. You wouldn’t believe what people put themselves through.”

Bucky chuckled. Yeah, I believe it. Considering I’ve done dumber things in my time. “I can believe it. I’ve been there.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You’ve skateboarded down staircases?”

“No, but I’ve done some pretty stupid things in my time,” he admitted, leaning in again. Pretty sure falling for you might top the list. “But if I did something dumb, you’d patch me up, right?”

You smirked, your eyes twinkling. He’s flirting again. I can’t take this seriously. “Oh, I’d patch you up. But I’d make sure to remind you how dumb you were the entire time.”

“Fair,” Bucky said, the distance between you shrinking again. Patch me up, lecture me—just keep talking, I don’t care. “But I think I’d be a good patient.”

You shook your head with a grin. Good patient? Doubtful. “I doubt that. You’d probably complain the whole time.”

“I wouldn’t,” he replied, his tone teasing but soft. I’d let her take care of me, no problem. “If you were the one taking care of me, I’d be on my best behavior.”

He’s definitely not just talking about broken bones... Your heart skipped at the way he was looking at you again, his voice dropping to something more intimate. The banter was light, but underneath it all, there was that same intensity. Okay, now I’m thinking about kissing him again...

“You don’t strike me as someone who’s ever on their best behavior,” you teased softly, though your breath caught in your throat.

Bucky smirked, his eyes flicking to your lips again. “Maybe you bring it out in me.”

God, I hope so.

The words hung between you, heavy with meaning. Your pulse raced, and you leaned into the moment, letting the tension simmer between you, unspoken but undeniable. He’s close again…

“I’ll have to see that for myself,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat.

She’s close, too. Just lean in, Barnes. Bucky’s gaze darkened, his voice low and rough. “You just might.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as the tension between you crackled, thick and electric. You shifted slightly, leaning in with a playful smirk. “So... tell me, you got any other dates lined up after this one?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered with amusement as he leaned back, crossing his arms. Dates? I can barely keep up with this one. “Why? You worried I’ve got someone else lined up?”

You grinned, holding his gaze. “Maybe. Should I be?”

Not a chance. He leaned in closer, the space between you shrinking as his voice dropped lower. “I don’t know... do you have any other dates lined up?”

He’s really turning this on me, huh? You blinked, your heart racing, but you quickly shot back, “Well, maybe... maybe not. Depends on how this one ends.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his eyes dropping to your lips again, the intensity rising. Alright, Barnes, time to end this date right. “Guess I better make sure it ends right, then.”

Before you could respond, Bucky reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing tenderly against your cheek as he leaned in, your lips so close you could feel his breath.

Your heart was pounding, your breath shallow, as his parted lips brushed against yours, soft and slow, his head tilting just slightly. The kiss was gentle at first, his lips locking against yours in a way that made everything around you fade to nothing. He could taste the faint sweetness of your daiquiri on your lips, and with a soft groan, his tongue did a slow, savoring lick against your bottom lip before slipping past, deepening the kiss.

Your hands instinctively moved up, cupping his face as you kissed him back, your fingers sliding along the scruff of his jaw. The warmth of his touch, the way his thumb stroked your cheek, the way his lips moved against yours —everything about it was intoxicating, pulling you under.

Then Bucky pulled back for a quick gasp, his breath mingling with yours , before diving back in, capturing your lips with even more intensity. The kiss deepened, more urgent this time, as though neither of you wanted the moment to end. His hand on your nape tightened slightly, pulling you closer as the kiss intensified, his lips pressing more firmly against yours.

They didn’t stop until they couldn’t breathe anymore, finally pulling apart when the need for air overtook you, both of you breathless and flushed. Their foreheads rested together, the cool night air doing little to cool the heat between you. Bucky’s thumb gently stroked your cheek as he whispered, his voice rough, “Definitely no other dates lined up after this.”

You smiled, your hands still cradling his face, your heart pounding. “Good. Neither do I.”

× × × ×

As Bucky’s motorcycle came to a slow stop outside your house, and glanced up at your front porch. You hopped off the bike, shaking out your hair with a satisfied grin.

That ride was way too short... you thought, glancing at him as you handed Bucky his helmet, which he stubbornly told you to wear instead of him.

Bucky, being the gentleman, didn’t just let you off with a wave. He slid off the bike and stood up straight, dusting his hands like he was about to help carry your groceries.

Alright, Barnes. Play it cool.

"I’ll walk you up," he said casually, like it wasn’t 2024 and people usually just waved from their cars.

You raised an eyebrow, your lips quirking into a smirk. "You’re walking me to my porch?"

Bucky nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She thinks it’s weird? Hell, I thought that’s what you’re supposed to do.

“Of course. What kind of guy lets a lady walk to her door alone?” he replied, shrugging like this was completely normal.

You tried not to laugh, biting your lip to hold back a smile. He’s serious. Oh my God, he’s really serious. "Wow, okay, Mr. 1940s. What’s next, you gonna tip your hat and call me ‘ma’am’?"

Bucky smirked, taking a step closer. Alright, go with it, Barnes. “I could, if that’s what you’re into.”

You snorted, rolling your eyes but smiling as you walked together toward your porch. He’s ridiculous... and kinda sweet. You couldn’t help but notice how he slowed his pace just a little, like he was savoring the moment, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, casual yet somehow... considerate.

When you reached your porch, Bucky stopped, glancing at your door as if making sure it was safe territory. This is it. Play it smooth.

You turned to him, unable to hold back a laugh this time. "So, do I get a secret code to get into my own house, or...?"

Bucky grinned, leaning casually against the porch railing. “Just making sure you get home safe.”

Alright, Barnes, she’s not buying it. But hey, it worked.

“You know, they invented porch lights for a reason.” You shook your head, amused. He’s seriously acting like my personal bodyguard right now.

“What can I say? Old habits die hard.” Bucky shrugged, leaning in just a little closer, that playful glint in his eye. Please don’t laugh, please don’t laugh.

You looked up at him, crossing your arms with a smirk. “You know, there’s a fine line between being a gentleman and babysitting.”

Bucky chuckled. She’s killing me with that smirk. “Hey, you never know. There could be a rogue bagel out here, just waiting to trip you up.”

Oh, not the bagels again. “Oh my God, not the bagels again!” you burst out laughing, shaking your head.

He raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “You know they’re round, right?”

This man is unbelievable. You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. “I think we’ve officially come full circle.”

“Just like a bagel.” Bucky gave a slow, dramatic nod.

You couldn’t help but laugh again, but you shook your head, standing on your porch with your hands on your hips. Why do I like this guy so much?

“Alright, alright, you’ve escorted me safely to my door. Anything else, or are you going to salute me goodbye?”

Bucky’s grin softened, and with a playful twinkle in his eye, he gave a small, mock salute. She’s gotta be messing with me right now, right? “Goodnight, ma’am.”

“Goodnight, soldier.” You couldn’t stop smiling as you opened your door, turning back to look at him. Don’t walk away, don’t walk away yet...

As you slipped inside, you peeked out one last time, watching as Bucky lingered for a second, that charming smirk still on his face before he finally turned and headed back to his bike. Say something, Barnes. Don’t just leave like a dork.

But then he stopped, halfway to his bike, and turned back around, something flickering in his eyes.

No, I’m not leaving yet. Not without...

Before you could ask what he was doing, Bucky closed the distance between you with a few long strides. Without hesitating, he gently tilted your chin up, his thumb brushing your cheek as he leaned in and kissed you—soft, quick, but just enough to make your heart race. His lips parted against yours, and for a split second, you tasted the warmth of him before he pulled back, just enough to meet your eyes.

That... was... wow.

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart doing a somersault. Did that just happen? You were still processing when Bucky grinned, his voice a little more hushed. “I guess I couldn’t leave without a proper goodbye.”

Smooth, Barnes. Real smooth.

You blinked, trying to find your voice, but all that came out was a soft, “No complaints here.”

Bucky chuckled softly, his hand still lingering at your neck for a moment longer. Then, he cleared his throat, stepping back a bit. “Hey, uh... you got a number I could call sometime?”

He’s asking for my number after that?

You smiled, feeling your heart flutter as you reached into your pocket, grabbing your phone. “Yeah, here—let me put it in.”

As you typed in your number, Bucky watched you, that familiar twinkle back in his eyes. Best decision I’ve made all night.

When you handed his phone back, your fingers brushed his, sending a small jolt up your arm. Yep, I’m done for.

Bucky pocketed the phone, flashing that boyish grin again. “Alright. I’ll call you.”

Yeah, you better. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He took a slow step down from the porch, but not without glancing over his shoulder one more time. “Goodnight... again.”

You stood there, grinning like an idiot. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

As Bucky made his way back to his bike, you slipped inside your house, leaning against the door as your heart raced. Did he really just kiss me? Again? Oh, this is definitely not over.

You peeked out one last time through the crack in the door, watching him as he swung his leg over his bike. Even from your doorway, you could hear him muttering with a smirk, “Just trying to keep the rogue bagels at bay.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you finally closed the door behind you, your heart racing a little more than you expected. I’m never going to forget this night...

[shotmrmiller]

written on phone, excuse mistakes.

ps!ghost is spent. physically exhausted. there's an ache in his lower back that he can feel up to the base of his skull. his hip flexors burn with overuse. his head pounds, an unrelenting hammering behind his eyes.

he's working too hard to keep himself in the zone when at work. his co-stars, while so breathtakingly beautiful, aren't his favorite girl. the one with the soft, quivering thighs that glisten with arousal in every video. the one with the pretty tits and even prettier pussy that somehow takes him (technically him, that toy is based on his cock) so nicely, every devastating inch.

he can feel himself thickening at just the thought of you climbing on top, nails digging into his chest as you sink onto him, watching your face through half-lidded eyes as you finally feel the real thing. would your bitten lips part as you draw a sharp gasp? would your eyes roll to the back of your head once his tip gently presses against the plug of your womb? would you let him take you over the peak with just the pad of his thumb rolling little circles over your swollen clit as you try to sit still?

the muscles in his groin tighten, his now hardened erection straining against the metal teeth of his zipper. he rearranges himself from the outside, a palm wrapping around the thick of him when he looks at his watch.

he supposes he's got enough time to squeeze in one last wank. not like he has any issues getting to his finish line, not with your pretty pussy in his mind's eye.

pulling your page up on his phone, he slowly begins to undo the button on his jeans when he notices that you posted a brand-new video. just minutes ago, back when he was still in his driveway.

he leaves an impatient trail of clothes that leads to his bedroom and lies back, head sinking into the soft pillow, his hand lazily tugging his length when—

he springs up, spine snapping straight, eyes widening but pupils narrowing as he takes in what you're wearing. you managed to get your hands on a mask, a skull balaclava to be exact. he's worn that before in older videos.

even though he can't see your face, he can finally, finally get a look at your eyes. long lashes frame them, like feathered wings, like brushstrokes from an artist's hand. your eyes reflect the bright luminescence of the ring light behind the camera, a circular glow that encircles the center of them in a perfect halo.

if he wasn't enthralled before, (which he definitely is, he'd buy you an airplane ticket to come see him in a heartbeat) he sure as hell is now. and he's even harder than before, almost painfully so. ghost leans against the wall, spreading his muscled thighs shoulder-width apart and presses play.

it starts slow, as always. your hand wraps around the base of the toy, the tips of your fingers barely touching. he takes minor pride in that. you're not a teeny thing, he's simply bigger in more ways than one. you give it a couple of pumps, spreading the lube over it when you lean forward— your pretty, perfect eyes looking straight at the camera— and with a thumb, you lift the mask up just enough to—

you spit on the toy. there's a clear glob of saliva trickling down the plastic thing, trailing a warm path down to where your hand is. the wave of heat that rushes through his body, painting his cheeks a rosy hue with embarrassment (because he's seething with jealousy over a bloody inanimate object, for fucks sake) is swallowed up by the molten rush that courses through his veins.

his usual pink tip is flushed a much deeper color as it pre-cum beads up at the slit.

"fuck, do tha' again." he rumbles quietly. "c'mon, love, do tha' again." you've even got him talking to himself, that's how crazy he is about you.

it's as if lady luck smiled upon him because you do it again. a quick drag of your hand, up down, up down, and you lick the side of it with a flattened pink tongue before spitting on the head.

perfect. you're perfect. what he wouldn't do to be there instead.

he sucks in a sharp breath through his clenched teeth when you move around until your sex is hovering over the spit-slick toy. ghost chokes out a groan, a low noise that comes from deep within his barrel chest when you begin to lower yourself onto it.

your greedy cunt swallows it whole in one smooth movement. puffy lips spread wide as it stretches to take it all, walls wrenched apart by the girth. he bets you're squeezing down on it like a vice. ghost grips himself tight, hissing at the feeling. you'd probably be tighter.

he strokes himself in sync with the pace you've set, a slow but firm rise and fall. the sounds your cunt makes is music to his ears— audible squelching, a sticky viscous note. there's a creamy froth around the widened base, slowly dripping onto the floor like pearly drops of sweetened honey and milk.

saliva pools in his mouth, enough to have to swallow.

he bets you'd taste as sweet as you look. like a ripened fig. like the warmth of amber.

another swallow.

a familiar heat begins to flare in his groin, a quiet hum beneath his flesh, tiny pinpricks on his tender nerves. the tell tale sign of his end.

"c'mon sweetheart, come with me. let me—" he bites down on his tongue, meat between his molars when his core pulses, flaring white hot. let me feel you around me. give me wha' i want, wha' i've earned.

my reward.

he hears your breath hitch, snag in your throat, and—

your eyes flutter closed, eyelashes akin to a butterfly's wings. vulnerable. delicate.

he just knows you'd look so beautiful in your surrender.

white-hot, like a star's core radiates from the inside out, a seething inferno beneath his skin, pushing outward, pushing against the threshold— a dam that holds back torrents of euphoria. a crack appears with each stroke, each tug of his cock until he exhales a quivering breath, like fallen leaves rustling in the wind.

it bursts, cascading over him. it's indescribable— pure ecstasy. sublime. it comes in bursts, pulse after pulse. warmth covers his hand, drips down his balls into his bedsheets.

he grumbles as he gets out of bed to clean himself up, making a mental note to ask his manager to email you instead.

it's high time he got his hands on you.

or yours on him.

(+ fat fucking tip, atp he's about to buy a wedding ring someone help him!!!)

[starreo]

multi-character drabble.

includes alcohol consumption, adult themes so, mdni.

he got drunk around you a lot. and when he got drunk, he got too real.

last time, he'd mentioned how much in love with you he was, and how just everything about you was way too perfect to him. his confession, obviously shocked you, and led to a thorough investigation in the morning when he sobered up, completely unaware of the previous night's events.

and after you'd gotten a sober confession out of him, you let him ask you out again. though it was all messy and stuttery, you preferred it over his drunk one.

this time, you were sitting on his couch, after a nice candle-lit date, a glass of wine in hand as you watched him pour some for himself...chuckling as you noticed him side-eyeing you, mumbling about being more careful this time.

and as usual, he got carried away. glass after glass, he kept pouring it till the bottle was empty, sentences sounding so slurred as his eyes had a hazy cover to them. "a-and, y'know...then, i-i did...smth'...uhh-y'know..." he leaned in closer to you, his cold breath hitting your neck as he whispered his little secret in your ear, "s-sometimes, i think...of you," he gulped, looking at you as if he had revealed the most scandalous secret and all you could do was giggle in response, pulling his cheeks in awe.

"mhm, what do you think of...?" you asked, fingers still stretching his cheeks. "of y-you...when, 'm touchin' myself...." and that seemed to shock you because your grip on his cheeks widened, only letting go once you heard an "ouch!..." it was probably the first time the two of you had discussed something like this...it was probably wrong to probe him about it right now, in this state. you thought, as you watched him, amuse himself with the strings of your dress.

but then again, you might not get this chance again, "and...?" you ask, cocking an eyebrow as you ask him to elaborate. his eyes looking right into your soul as he smirks, a light blush appearing on his nose as he stutters over his words, "s-so...usually, i just think of your nails leaving scratches in my back as i bury my cock inside your tight little cunt," and your eyes widen, not having enough time to wonder over how confidently he just said that, when he slams his wet, drooly lips against yours, mumbling between the kiss, about how he wants to make his dreams come true.

eren jaeger, reo mikage, gojo satoru, bakugo, yuri briar (there is sm depth to his character, and if you don't understand it then,, just don't talk about him !!)

© starreo 2023. do not copy, translate or repost .

[starryylies]

Simon with a small bubbly reader, like total opposite from Si being big and cold. And she wears like all pink and is very girly and the rest of the team can't believe their together

OPPOSITES ATTRACT

Simon Riley wasn’t really a big fan of colours, or people.

You on the other hand were both.

He doesn’t understand how you can always be so pink for every occasion. Like if he didn’t know you he’d probably think you’re advertising the Barbie movie.

When he first met you he thought you were ‘faking’ your nice attitude but he was proven wrong when you stepped up to help him during a rough patch after a difficult deployment, breaking through his walls brick by brick

Thought you were the happiest person until he saw you crumble while you talked about your past relationships and how badly you were treated and hurt.

This lead to him being angered and sending out a few of his men to do a background check up on your exes who soon won’t be seeing light above the ground anymore

Loves how you can be yourself around him and display your femininity without being judged.

Let’s you paint his nails pink and wears them to work next day because he knows it’s your way of claiming him.

Wearing it to work attracts a lot of attention though, a few people snicker in the background about how stupid he’s looking

While the rest are more astonished to know that their lieutenant is actually dating someone because why there is no other explanation to why he’d have his fingernails painted pink with heart nail-art on the middle finger.

Soap is one of the many people who tries his best to get tea from Simon during break time,

“So ya got y’rself a missus and didn’ even tell yr’ best friend ‘bout it?

Simon just laughs it off and ends the conversation.

Johnny being the persistent penguin he is, decides to show up at Simon’s house bringing Gaz and price as leverage

They’re shocked to see a real not imaginary girl open the door, such a pretty girl at that too

Simon hears the chatter outside and walks up to see if everything’s okay, only to see his team standing on his front porch with a biscuit box to gift in johnnys hand.

You invite them in and serve them snacks while they just stare at the bleak contrast between you and Simon.

You’re the definition of sunshine and well, he‘s just simon

Soap and gaz tease simon on how he managed to ‘bag Such a pretty thing”

While Simon just gives them a glare that says “fuck off”

While price asks for your muffin recipe.

After the boys leave, simon cuddles you right that night an mumbles how he’s so lucky to have you and how much he loves you.

(He got affected by what soap and gaz said about you and how you’re out of his league.)

* ੈ���‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊⋆ ₊ ﾟ ☽ * ₊ ⋆* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊⋆ ₊ ﾟ ☽ * ₊ ⋆ ੈ✩

Header credits to- @anitalenia

[cosmosis]

MOVED TO @seratopia

miguel o’hara x reader (fluff) - surprise visit modern au!

an unfamiliar secretary won’t let you into the building to visit your husband, Miguel, at his office

Visiting your husband at work may as well be the best way for you to spend your day off. He’s been working hard, his passion truly bursting at the seams when he talks to you about the latest improvement project he’s been working on for the past three weeks. 

You’re walking down the sidewalk in an outfit you knew would make Miguel go crazy, holding a nice bouquet of flowers in your arm. You decided men don’t get flowers enough, so you’re here to fill in that gap. He really deserves more than flowers anyway. 

With the badge embedded into your watch, you scan your wrist against the access monitor on the wall. The doors automatically open, and you feel a nice gust of air conditioning run into you. 

The office is very modern, clean, and sleek. All around you are advanced units of technology; a result of your husband’s successes. It smells the same it always has; clean, crisp, and slightly minty. As you walk through the doors, you’re greeted with the exact same things you always are; same lounge chairs, same grand elevator... 

Though, you don’t recognize the secretary at the desk. 

She’s blonde, red lipstick smeared onto her tight lips in an unwelcoming frown. A matching pearl set adorned over her crisp, dark blue blazer. 

Usually, you’d say hi to the secretary you knew, Lyla. You assume she got fired, which was a real shame, you love her sass. She was always so kind to you, saying hi with a smile, or offering to help guide you through the office and such. 

But instead, you walk right past the desk, digging through your memories to find how you managed to find Miguel’s main office last time. 

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing?“

Her voice is just as snarky as you had imagined. 

“Visiting Miguel?“ You pause, your patience already growing extremely thin for the new secretary. You’d probably chat about this to Miguel later, maybe bat an eyelash or two to convince him about hiring someone different. 

“Nuh uh! Miguel O’Hara is busy right now, not open for any visitors at the moment.“ She replies, fixating her eyes on the large monitor in front of her. 

You pause for a moment, critically thinking things through for a moment. 

“Oh! I get it. M’am, you haven’t met me before, have you?“ You ask, trying your best to not crinkle the flowers in your hands. She raises a single eyebrow, glaring as if you insulted her mother. (Which, you might as well should do.)

“I’m Miguel’s spouse. He lets me visit him whenever, I even have my badge right here-“

She holds up a single manicured finger. 

“Nice try, but my charts right here say that Miguel is busy at the moment. Try another time, maybe send him a fan letter or something.“

Your blood starts to boil as the new secretary has a satisfied smirk on her face. 

Instead of choosing violence and risking your hair getting ruined, you opt for the better option. Glaring at the desk manager directly in the eye, you pull out your cellphone from your pocket, manually pressing the contact button for Miguel. You wait for the phone to dial, pressing the cellular to your ear whilst examining your own nails. 

And finally, he answers. 

“Hm? You need something, honey?“

“Miguel.“

Miguel on the other line, freezes to a halt. Now, he knows he’s in trouble. Carefully, he clears his throat. 

“What is it, sweetie?“

You take a deep breath. “Your... secretary isn’t letting me into the office. Will you fix that, please?”

Miguel pinches between his eyebrows, groaning. 

“Of course, hun. I’ll be down in a sec.“

“Thank you, Miguel.“

The call ends, but the secretary still stares at you like you’ve thrown up all over her salad. She almost looks like she’s going to laugh, which makes you even madder. 

Within literally a few seconds, the elevator whirs to a halt, the top light switching on with a chime. As expected, your husband walks through the sliding doors, clad in a crisp white dress shirt and office pants. He’s so undeniably gorgeous, you almost consider forgiving the secretary. 

But, you don’t. 

“Ah, Miguel, this p-“

“Shut your mouth for moment, would you?“

The woman is taken aback, red bursting onto her cheeks as her fake smile melts into a frown. Her mouth is left agape, watching as Miguel saunters over to you with a smile. 

“What happened?“ Miguel asks, his Office Face™ dissolving into a genuine smile. He slots his hands to your waist, silently peering at the flowers in your arms. 

“Well, I was going to come surprise you... but then she said that you were busy.” You reply, pouting. 

“Aww, baby, it’s okay.“ He smooches the top of your head. “The flowers are pretty. I’ll handle this.“

Miguel then swerves around, this time with his Office Face™ on. He keeps his hand glued to your side, each step of his getting louder and louder as he makes his way towards the desk. 

“Tiffany.“

Tiffany, in question, shudders, keeping her eyes glued to the floor while a shit-eating smirk finds its’ way onto your face. No remorse whatsoever. 

“From now, until tonight, please let my partner into the building whenever they like.“

“Yes, sir. Why until tonight?“ 

“Because I’m firing you from any future stand-in’s, or any sort of work in here for the matter.“

Miguel: 1 Tiffany: 0

Tiffany looks like she has so much she wants to say, so much that she could scream at this very moment... but instead, she stays silent. You can see a vein practically ready to burst at her temple, her jaw grinding her teeth in her mouth. 

“I will dismiss you at the end of the day, Tiffany. I expect you to cause no more trouble until then.“

Tiffany is left utterly speechless, her jaw left slightly agape. Miguel ushers you by your back towards the elevator, poking and prodding his finger at the flowers in your grasp. 

Automatically, the elevator doors smoothly slide open, and you both step inside. You stare at the glass view outside, watching as the two of you get higher and higher above the city.

“I even had my badge, and she didn’t let me.“ You frown, indulgently leaning into Miguel’s chest. 

“I’m sorry, hun. Lyla’s out sick for a bit, so she was the only substitute I could find for today.“

Apologetically, he rubs your back, secretly praying that you’d forget about the whole ordeal so you’d pay attention to him instead. 

“S’okay. Thank god Lyla wasn’t fired.“ You mumble, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“She’s annoying, but she does her job well.“ Miguel remarks, and you gasp, personally offended on behalf of your beloved Lyla. 

“No she’s not! She’s super nice, actually.“

“Whatever.” Miguel scoffs. “Kiss me.”

“No. You called Lyla annoying.” 

these oneshots have really skyrocketed my account! thank you guys so much for the positive feedback, i love loveee reading all the comments i get! please stay tuned for more!

- cosmosis <333

© 𝒄𝒐𝒔𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒔.

[ebodebo]

Tough As Nails—Cowboy Like Me!

thinking about cowboy!simon riley… | part four |

<- previous

The beginning of August usually brings the peak of summer warmth, but unfortunately for you, it seems the end of July supplied the real heat—just not in the ways you had expected. 

Even all of two weeks after your encounter with Sam, you seethed. Harsh anger and heat spread through your being, boding for a tiny little catalyst to ignite your flame. And you weren't the only one feeling the feverish heat.

To say that Simon was angry would be a gross understatement. A storm has been brewing inside him ever since he pulled up to that shitty dive-bar, seeing you sitting on the dirty curb, smudged mascara dripping down your plump cheek, tainting your beautiful face, eyes blood-shot and swollen. Your voice strained and cracked as you said his name, questioning if it was really him. 

The real nail on the coffin was what you had confessed to him in his truck. Sam had insinuated you were a slut. Simon's muscles tightened, and his jaw clenched every time he remembered what that deprived asshole told you. The only reason he didn't flip the truck around and speed back to that dive-bar, grab Sam's sorry-ass out of the seat he sit in, and slam him into the wall, was because you had pleaded he didn't.

He was gracious to you by respecting your wishes, but this ordeal festered in him too much to leave it untouched. Simon was a God-damn machine with no impulse control. A loose-canon. And this canon was ready to blow right through that city-slicking prick's front-fucking-door. 

Which was preciously what he did.

Simon threw himself inside his truck at about eleven at night, a Manila folder tucked gently away in his jacket, not even bothering to strap on his safety belt as he drove to that bastard's house. Simon hoped, prayed, that Sam was asleep so that he could be the one to jerk him out of his peaceful slumber and make him wonder if he was in a nightmare. 

He halted as his truck brushed against the curb in front of his house, turning off his engine and stepping out of the truck. He scoffed as he took in the sight of the house. It was huge, no, enormous. Creamy, muted blue paint coated the paneled front and sides of the house, and a classic picket white fence encased the backyard. 

Two white Range Rovers and a white Porche sat in the driveway, along with two golf carts sequestered to the right side of the house. Simon noticed the Porsche's shit parking job and dirt-covered windows and noted it was Sam's car, just for future reference. 

After his observations, he casually strolled up to the front door, pressing a little bell encased in a palm leaf cover. It didn't take long for Simon to hear the soft pad of feet descending down what he assumed was a staircase. 

The door swung open to reveal a disheveled Sam; clearly, he was asleep. Simon smiled internally. Sam's eyes looked like saucers when he realized it was Simon. His face paled like he had seen a ghost or something.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Sam spit, perplexed at Simon's presence.

"Came to chat," Simon says cooly. "Preferably outside."

"Fuck no." Sam gnarls. "You need to leave my property."

"Ah." Simon tuts as he reaches into his jacket to grab the nicely tucked-away Manila folder. He carefully opens it and reads the first couple of lines. 

"Ryan Jennings worked for Capitol Guild Investment Firm before it was found he had embezzled a million—"

"Hey, hey. Where the hell did you get that?" Sam quickly supplied, stepping away from the door to try and snatch the folder from Simon's grasp. Simon jerked away from him, holding his finger up as he continued reading. 

"—dollars from the firm's clientele, though no legal action was taken, Jennings was to return all assets, estimating one million dollars, and issue his resignation promptly." Simon neatly closed the folder, eyeing Sam.

"So, as I said," Simon began. "Let's talk outside." Sam sighed deeply before turning to close the door gently.

"I have my resources." Simon casually says, stepping into the grass on the front lawn, with Sam following suit.

"So, what, what do you want? Money?" Sam timidly asks, running his hands through his hair.

Simon lets out a gruff laugh. "Money? You think I want money?" 

"You don't?" Sam questions, unable to believe a man like Simon could be doing this for more than monetary gain.

"You don't talk to her. Ever." Simon roughly says as a sly smirk spreads across Sam's face.

"Is it that good?" Sam smugly asks, placing his hands in his sweatpants pockets.

"The fuck you talkin' about?" Simon cocks his head, narrowing his eyes at Sam. 

Sam shrugs. "Her pussy."

Without warning, Simon lunged forward, his fist aiming straight at Sam's jaw. An immediate stinging pain spread that radiated through his face and head, making him falter back. Blood seeped out of his mouth, and a faint ringing noise could be heard in his ear. But, he quickly gained momentum, his own fist coiling like a spring.

He unexpectedly connected his punch to Simon's face head-on with a swift, decisive motion. Busting his bottom lip, with blood seeping down his chin and jaw. Simon quickly spit out some extra blood onto the grass before grabbing Sam by his shirt. 

"I know guys like you." Simon roughly says, his own blood and spit spurting onto Sam's face. "Pretentious little bastards who only think about themselves." 

He gripped his shirt tighter, making him slightly hover above the grass. "I bet you'd blow yourself if you could." He grits out, forcefully throwing him onto the ground.

"Stay the fuck away from her." Simon wipes his lips with the back of his hand as he turns to go to his truck.

"You know I'm not like that anymore," Sam speaks, making Simon roll his eyes. Simon turns to face Sam, who is still on the ground.

"You can change your name. Run from the city with your tail between your legs, but nothin' can change the greedy fuckin' animal you are." 

With that, Simon turned away and went straight for his truck, leaving Sam to sulk with the ants.

On the drive back to the ranch, Simon regretted not doing more to Sam, but Sam had a worse punishment than Simon releasing his venom on him: living the rest of his life as a nobody with his legacy cloaked in disgrace. 

Simon pulled up in front of his house, hissing as the cold air brushed against his busted lip, as he stepped out of his truck. He pulled open his front door to meet you sitting on the couch in the living room. 

"You haven't been answering your phone." You somberly say from your position on the couch, not noticing his busted lip and bruised face because it was dim where he stood.

"I know." He ducked his head, not moving closer to you, not wanting you to see him so clearly in the light.

"Come here." You pat the cushion next to you, tilting your head as he turns to go to the kitchen instead. You stand, following him to the kitchen, observing him as he fills a glass full of water at the sink, his back to you.

"You should be asleep," He gruffly says, taking a sip of the water, swirling it in his mouth to remove some of the coppery taste, and spitting it into the sink.

"Don't change the subject." You scowl, moving closer to him, bringing your hand to touch his own gently.

"Why won't you look at me?" He takes another sip of water, this time swallowing it.

"Cowboy?" You softly urge, your fingers gently brushing his forearm. He takes a deep sigh, though his lip quirks at your nickname.

"Please look at me." There is a pleading note in your voice. He takes a longer sip of the water, swallowing, before slowly turning to face you. Your eyes widen as you observe the purple bruises covering various parts of his face, his busted lips caked in dry blood, and the blood dripping down his chin and jaw pooling onto his shirt.

"What happened?" You quietly question, raising your hand to brush your fingers along his lip delicately.

"Ah, just some shit." He vaguely says. You narrow your eyes at him, but you see it in his eyes. He was tired. Worn-out. It could wait until tomorrow, you thought.

"Okay. I won't push tonight, but tomorrow, we will talk about it." You affirm, giving his arm a soft squeeze. He nods as you grab his hand, lacing your fingers and dragging him into the bathroom.

"In the meantime, let's get you cleaned up."

You made him sit on the toilet seat as you reached under the sink to grab an emergency kit. You opened the kit and grabbed some alcohol and some gauze. 

"Si, you need stitches." You say, observing a muscle of his lip sticking out.

"You can do it." He assures, looking up at you. 

"Last time I checked, I don't have a medical degree." You laugh out.

"It's easy. Just need some dental floss and a needle." He reaches into the kit and grabs a needle, bending it into an arc, and a pack of dental floss. "Learned it in the military."

"You were in the military?" You question washing your hands before taking the needle and cleaning it with some alcohol to sterilize it. 

"Course I was." You smiled down at him as you wiped his lip with some alcohol.

"How long?" You ask, throwing away the cotton pad.

"Long time." He vaguely answers with a slight smile.

"You're always so vague." You roll your eyes as you step between his legs, bringing your hand up to grip under his chin, tilting it up slightly. He brought his hands to rest on the sides of your thighs, lightly massaging the fat.

You hold the sides of his lips together, carefully suturing the skin back together. You had no idea what you were doing, but Simon didn't say anything, so you assumed you were doing alright. 

Simon flinched as the needle pierced his skin, coming in and out of his lip. His eyes fell shut as you worked, occasionally twitching, his hands still kneading your thighs. 

Once you finished, you cleaned up the area, put away the kit, and threw away the needle. 

"Forgot somethin.'" Simon huffed, still sitting on the toilet seat. You raised your brow, giving him a curious look.

"What?" You question, leaning against the counter facing him, your hands on your hips.

He pressed his pointer fingers to his lip, slightly puckering them. You brought your hand up to cover your mouth as you let out a laugh, walking over to him and pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"I could use some more." His lips form a smirk, just beckoning you.

"Ya, I bet you could."

a/n: idk why i include an authors note bc i literally don’t say anything interesting

divider!

reblogs & comments are encouraged!

[dwaekkicidal]

omg........... bsf lix............. WHAAATTTT!!!!! now im thinking abt sitting on bsf hyunes lap while sitting around with the others but reader unconciously squirms around and and and he gets hard and and tries to brush it off but he gets hard anyway and and and omg reader being an innocent virgin who doesnt really know whats going on in hyunes mind................. maybe she knows that hes hard and plays it off??? maybe she doesnt? 😮‍💨

- 🥢

i... got carried away. 😭 this has like 800 words

but god do i love the concept of accidental stimulation.

ur just so pretty on his lap and you smell SOO fucking good, he's actually losing his mind. he's been struggling from the get-go, but he eventually gets used to it! like he always does, because this is a normal occurrence between the two of you

but for whatever reason you just cant seem to sit still tonight.. he doesn't know if its the sugary drink you just had, or maybe youre just hyper today?? he doesnt understand!! but he doesnt really have the time to think about it because you seem to forget that he's your bestie and not a chair!

so when you move to position yourself on his lap better because you were "slipping off" and he gets a nice, warm drag of your clothed cunt against his clothed dick, he short circuits ><

he absolutely buffers after that. it only takes him a few seconds to snap out of it though, thanks to jisung whining that his hyung is ignoring him. and then they talk like normal until you move AGAIN. this time seemingly harder. you cant help it, his shorts are just so slippery!

jisung doesn't miss the way hyunjins face contorts and the way he bites his lip almost hard enough to make it bleed, but you sure do. jisung only snickers and gets distracted with something else, allowing hyunjin to turn all his attention to you

but the second he goes to ask you what you're doing, you squeeze your legs together and lean back just the slightest bit,,, he almost moans on the spot

he catches it thankfully and takes a moment to breathe and calm himself and his little friend down. but finds himself getting distracted by the fact that youre still not looking at him and that the only thing facing him is your pretty little ass.. right within reach and he knows he could grab a handful if he really wanted

and he also knows you wouldnt really mind. youre his sweet bestie who trusts him with every secret under the sun!! like your biggest secret that youre a virgin who is waiting for the right guy. youre just his adorable partner in crime who just so happens to come to him to cry about stupid boys so he can kiss those annoying tears away. platonically, of course

but he swears he's never thought about you to this degree before! hes never thought about you riding him and watching your pretty ass bounce and ripple every time your hips hit his! or even about sliding a hand in your hair and tugging it back until you arch your back all nicely while he hits that special spot inside of you that makes you cry!

"where the hell is this coming from?!?!" he would scream into the abyss of his own head

well... he would swear although he knows its a damn lie.

this little situation only makes him want to take things further and actually bend you over every surface on the horizon, and he would genuinely talk to you about those thoughts of his if you just gave him the chance and stopped fucking talking to chris!!

but alas, he's still your bestie and he just wants to be patient for you. and he's just so sure its all an accident! so he just sips his drink and digs his nails into his thigh as you continue to 'obliviously' talk to chris

but, lets be real... there's literally no way you cant feel his hard-on. at this point, he seriously doesnt think he's been so hard before and he can tell your hips are caught on his from the way his dick sits perfectly between your thighs. right under that skirt where he could just pull your panties to the side and give you a real reason to cry-

ahem... anyway!

he quickly catches on how obvious his hard on is when he notices the pink tint on your ears as your hands move to pull your skirt down, seemingly covering his dick from being shown to everybody in the room

oh. so youre just fucking with me? ok. two can play that game

wraps those long arms around your waist and puts his chin on your shoulder, getting all close ><

if you ignore him he'll blow lightly against your ear and then on your neck and will let out a deep, breathy chuckle against your ear when you jump askdjaklsdaklsjdashdja

or if you turn to him right away he'll feign innocence and just tilt his head at you with his lips puckered, "hm?"

will let you go back to talking to chris but will test ur patience now that he thinks that youre teasing him, & starts by rutting his hips up and tightening his arms around you.

to anybody else it would look like he's fixing both of your seating positions, but to him and to you, its just an excuse to feel his tip rub against your pretty, wettening, panties

ends it with squeezing you into his chest tighter and sighing deeply into the crook of your neck, maybe feigning being drunk just to trick his members into leaving the two of you the hell alone!!!

and for some reason it actually works?? so the guys scatter into their rooms with a pat on your shoulder for good luck, assuming that he's super drunk and that you'll have to babysit him for the rest of the night

and he completely ignores you when you poke at him and call out to him until he's sure he heard the last bedroom door close

"honey. do you think you're funny?" places a soft kiss on your shoulder before moving up, placing wet kisses all the way to your jaw where he sucks your first ever hickey into!!

and he knows its your first. cause unfortunately for you, you've told him literally everything.

"you better behave yourself before i bend you over right here right now."

[usedtobecooler]

hands on you | steve harrington x fem!reader

Pairing | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings | sexual content 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv sex, vaginal fingering, mutual masturbation, size kink, dirty talk. big dick harrington making his return.

Word Count | 2.3k

A/N | nobody say a damn word. not a damn word. dedicated to @loveshotzz <3

“That… Jesus, Steve,” You’re looking at him — or moreso, it — with a morbid curiosity and wide eyes.

His cock hangs heavy over his tummy, weighed down by its own sheer size, flushed a needy dark pink at the tip and curved ever so slightly to the right, “Babe, how has any girl ever taken that?” 

And it’s really a genuine, valid question to ask. He’s so big it makes your mouth water and your pussy clench, though it niggles in the back of your head that he’s guaranteed to be such a stretch. Your hand lays on his thigh, caressing the tan, toned flesh under your biting nails, and you choose to ignore the way he’s hissing from such a simple touch.

“Nobody has, honey,” Steve answers honestly, looking down with blown out eyes as your hand inches closer, backs of your knuckles brushing over his heavy sack, “I mean, I've — I've obviously had sex before, that’s a given. Just that I've had to stop halfway, ‘cause it hurts them.”

“Fuck,” You mutter to yourself, ghosting your fingertips up the length of his shaft until it’s kicking up under your touch, a blurt of precum spilling from his slit, pooling into the dip of his bellybutton, “You’re real sensitive.” 

Your voice is breathy, strangled in your throat and Steve whimpers, hips canting up when you wrap your hand loosely around the tip, thumb smearing through the mess he’s making. Your touch is gone as fast as it’s there, pressing your thumb into your mouth like it’s nothing — he tastes nice, almost. Like he clearly drinks water, which is more than you could say for most men.

“Please, honey,” Steve begs, watching you with lust blown eyes as you smack your lips together, savouring him in your mouth, “Y’gonna let me fuck you? I'll be so gentle, promise.” 

You think it over — you don’t want him to be gentle. You want him to pin you down and make you take it, fill you up until he’s nestled in your fucking guts and spilling his load so deep you can almost taste it in the back of your throat. But you’re not stupid, you’re clearly not ready for that. Not yet.

He’s disheveled looking as he leans back on his mountain of pillows, lazily sat with you between his spread thighs. He lost all of his clothes long ago, and you’re only sitting in your underwear, the state you’re both in is a clear expectation that you were anticipating sitting on his cock and riding him til the cows came home. 

“Gentle or not, Harrington,” You start, maneuvering yourself so you can tuck your legs under his thighs, spreading yourself wide and showing off the obvious wet patch on your silky underwear, “M’gonna need to prepare for taking that monster.”

Steve's not even looking at you, fully focused on the way you’re sliding your panties to the side and exposing your needy cunt to the warm air in his room — you’re soaked, folds glistening under the light as you spread them with your fingers.

He makes a noise, large hand coming out to grip at the base of his cock and squeeze, relieving an ache — he’s barely covering half of his length, your gut churns at that knowledge —, “‘M I not gonna get to touch you at least?” He asks, jerking himself slowly as he watches you in an almost trance-like state, the tips of your middle and ring fingers dipping into your slick entrance and breaching.

It’s not that you don’t want him to touch you, of course you fucking do. but watching him touch himself over you touching yourself is making your tummy quiver, “Patience, baby.”

“Fuck, okay,” Steve’s lazy with it, jerking his cock at a slow pace as you finally sink your fingers into yourself, a quiet moan pulling from your chest as you do it. You can’t stop watching him touching himself, clearly going slow with it so that he doesn’t blow his load before he gets to fuck you.

You’re so close together that the back of your wrist is brushing Steve's heavy balls with every slick glide of your fingers in and out of your gushing pussy, and it’s eliciting the prettiest noises from him. a flush of heat washes over you, tummy muscles clenching when the pad of your middle finger just barely catches on that sweet sensitive spot inside. 

“Feel good?” Steve's voice is breathy, almost desperate as his eyes finally flitter up to yours, ripped away from the sight of your cunt pulsing and gushing around your fingers. He's squeezing the base of his cock again, in a desperate attempt to stop working himself up too quickly.

“It —,” You start, gasping when Steve adjusts his leg on top of yours and you’re suddenly hyper aware of his skin on yours, “My fingers are just a little short.” 

You don’t even need to ask, Steve's up on his knees and pushing into your space before you can even comprehend it. His cock merely brushes the inside of your thigh and you both moan, the head catching on your flushed skin and smearing wet in its wake. 

“Let me?” Steve's voice is barely above a whisper, hand coming up to brush his unruly hair out of his face. It’s hotter than you’d care to admit to, with his pretty pink lips hung open, watching you intently as you slip your fingers out of yourself fully, the sickening squelch making you both shudder.

You lean back on both hands, Steve's hovering so close over the top of you that his breath is hitting your face, fingers grazing up the inside of your thigh until he’s hitting your hot, wet folds. Two fingers swirl just barely over your clit, enough to punch a moan out of you, fingertips grappling on his comforter, before he’s sinking the same two fingers into your cunt, all the way to the hilt.

“Oh fuck,” You gasp, steve’s expert fingers crooking up into that spot you couldn’t quite catch and past it, rubbing at the spongyness until your hips are canting up. The leaky tip of his cock presses into the meat of your leg, a reminder it’s there, and it only makes you moan louder, hips rocking into Steve's hand.

“You’re so tight around my fingers, fuck,” Steve comments, watching between both of your bodies as your pussy swallows his fingers, clenching and fluttering on them — the slick slide is deafening in your ears, winding you up further.

His thumb swipes at your clit and it makes your eyes roll, the assault on your g-spot becoming almost too much, the heat in your tummy blooming quickly. 

“You gonna cum for me?” Steve's grinning, leaning his forehead on yours, fingers speeding up ever so slightly, pads running in circles until you’re panting and crying out, “Can feel you gripping me, honey. C’mon, let me feel you cum.” 

Your eyes squeeze tight as the blooming heat bursts into flames, a cry of his name leaving your lips as euphoria spreads through your entire body. You feel your cunt pulsing sporadically around Steve’s fingers, gushing wet and soaking the sheets as he fucks you through it, fingers slowing down until they’re almost at a stop. 

Suddenly, the overwhelming desire to have Steve fill you up with his cock is clouding your brain, blurring your eyes at the edges. You can feel him, hot and heavy, brushing so close to your cunt it’s dizzying, “Need you to fuck me, steve. please?”

Steve's brows pull together, he’d clearly forgotten about his own needs and desires in favor of yours and that only makes you want him all the more, “You sure, honey? You’re gonna be so sensitive, can you handle me?” 

His words shouldn’t affect you the way they do, but you moan, all high pitched and needy, “C’mon, Steve. Fuck me like you mean it.”

And who would Steve be to refuse you that? He gently nudges you down onto your back until you’re laid flat, pulling your shaking legs up until your knees are bent up.

You can feel the head of his cock snagging ever so slightly on your puffy cunt, still sopping wet and no doubt drenching him in your release. Your tummy quivers in anticipation.

He sighs, shaky, as he grips at the base of his cock blindly, unable to take his eyes off of yours, like he’s searching for a definite answer. You nod, another go ahead, and his cock properly presses at your entrance, knocking the breath from your lungs. 

He’s. Well, he’s fucking big. The first few inches slip into you and punch a ragged moan from you, eyes squeezing shut as you beg your body to relax for him.

“Hey, hey,” Steve’s voice catches you off guard, his other hand grabbing for yours and lacing your fingers together at the side of your head, “If it doesn’t feel good, tell me to stop.”

“Don’t fucking stop,” You gasp, squeezing his hand. It’s not a bad burn, it feels fucking good. Teeters on the edge of too much, but the right edge. 

“Oh thank god,” Steve chuckles a little, pushing in another inch and your pussy clenches instinctively, choking his cock, “Honey, I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.” 

You giggle, the movement causing your cunt to flutter around him and he moans properly this time, rutting into you another inch or two, filling you out. 

Steve’s hand that was on his cock suddenly grips at your hip, as he bottoms out with a low growl, you feel it rumble up his chest, “You’re so — so fucking tight, warm,” Steve grits his teeth, pushing his hips forward to make it obvious that he’s fully sheathed in you, his heavy balls pressing tight to your ass.

You feel. Full. Ridiculously full. He’s hitting everywhere inside of you, the curve of his cock pressing into all the right spots, thatch of dark pubes brushing against your sensitive clit. 

His hand laced with yours grounds you, helps you relax and settle into it quickly, his chest flush to yours and pressing you down helps, too. 

Your eyelids flutter when he ruts into you again, reminding you of the size of him, “Move, Steve, need you to fuck me, yeah?” 

Steve grunts, pulling out just a few inches and pushing back in, eyes rolling as the wet heat of your cunt invites him back in, “Think your pussy likes me being here, honey.” 

You cry out at that, pussy spasming. You’re at a loss for words, the only thing on your mind is how Steve invades all of your senses. He leans down, kisses at the expanse of your neck as he sets a good rhythm. You feel every ridge of him, pushing so deep you swear you feel him in your guts.

“Hear that?” He mutters against your flushed, damp skin as he fucks you properly now, knocking the breath from you with every harsh thrust, “She loves me, baby. Loves my big cock, fuck.” 

Of course you can fucking hear it, the way your cunt is gushing, sloppy and soaking for him, more and more leaking around his shaft as he assaults your frontal wall. You whine, loud and beggy, fingernails digging into Steve’s hand where they’re still interlaced at the side of your head.

“Taking me so good, honey. Can’t believe you’re taking all of me,” Steve groans, pace quickening as he chases his high — you’re not far behind, the constant press to your spongey spot and the occasional catch of your clit against his pubic bone is getting you there fast.

It’s so fucking hot, the way he speaks to you. Your body is alight with need and want, “Keep talking, Steve. G’nna cum,” You breathe, leg tightening around the base of his back, heel of your foot pushing into his ass.

“Yeah?” Steve grins into your collarbone, you feel it against your flushed skin, “Cumming when you’re full on my big cock? Fuck, c’mon, show me how much she loves me. She’s so greedy, honey.”

Your cunt grips him like a vice, that same blooming feeling from earlier back with a vengeance as you reach the end — it’s so hard to think, with him pressing so deep and rough. You nod, whining and crying out, “Fuckfuckfuck, ohmygod —!” 

Your vision blurs at the edges, knocked dizzy and sick with it when your orgasm washes over you like tidal waves, fingertips digging into the back of Steve’s hand until he’s hissing and groaning, fucking you through it with a harsh snap of his hips.

“That’s it, so fucking tight,” Steve grunts, picking up speed and rutting into you until you’re practically screaming, “Gonna cum in you, fill you up with it, oh fuck —”

His hips still suddenly as he pushes his face into your neck and cums with a low grunt of your name. You feel every bit of his release shooting deep inside you, every pulse of his cock. Your walls flutter around him and he hisses in retaliation, smacking your hip gently. 

He collapses on top of you after that, entire body spent. You can’t find it in you to care, as his cock softens slowly — you feel his cum spilling out of you, though you’re half asleep and struggling to comprehend it.

Your attention only piques when you feel fingertips at your puffy, used entrance, pushing the liquid back into your weeping hole.

It’s disturbing how ready you are for Steve, when he fucks himself back into you not long after.

[laaailuh]

-TROPHY WIFE PT.2🏀

╰┈➤PART 1

-pairing: basketball player!e42 miles x fem!black!reader

-genre: fluff

-summary: What it’s like to date Visions Academy’s most prominent basketball player.

a/n: I am obsessed with making these.

MILES MORALES who always needs you by his side to help him choose out of his D1 offers.

“What about this one? Their program seems pretty nice.” “Yeah but baby, it's in Texas.” “So?” “Im not tryin’ to be 1000 miles away from you so another nigga can think he has a chance, fuck no.”

MILES MORALES who continuously reminds the cheerleaders that flirt with him that he's taken whatsoever and not interested.

“That crossover trick you did was so good.” “You should totally teach us some time.” “Nah. My girl can teach you how to get your ass beat though? She crazy.”

MILES MORALES who will give you private basketball lessons. Even though you weren't the best at playing, you still wanted to learn it because it was something that he loved deeply.

MILES MORALES who needs reassurance/ comfort when he gets injured during his basketball season.

“I cant rest Ma, scouts dont look for the player who sits out the most.” “You’re injured though, you need to lay off your ankle.” “Nah I have to-” “Basketball will still be there for you when you heal, so please just rest baby.”

MILES MORALES who tries not to let a fight escalate on the court if another player trash talks or purposely trips him. He wanted to show you that he was bigger than that. 

MILES MORALES who will try and convince you to get him the new 2k game that comes out every year.

“Please mami, they added more moves and everything.” “Miles, you play the actual game in real life, you don't need it.” “But I wanna create a sexy ass basketball player.”

MILES MORALES who will leave his jerseys at your house intentionally because he knows you like to wear it to bed or to his games.

MILES MORALES who lifts his shirt up to dry his face when he's sweating. This makes you go absolutely feral and he knows it too.

MILES MORALES who will take you out to eat after school before one of his games, he wants you to have enough energy to cheer for him.

MILES MORALES who loves when you get your nails done with his jersey number on it.

“You like my new set?” “Mhmmm….I love them baby.” “Now we have to do that tik tok trend where I show my nails on your pants.” “You stay wanting to do that huh?”

[willowsnook]

Cocky (LS) 18+

lance stroll x driver!reader

word count: 4k

look i'm as iffy on lance as the next person but i had a vision. this is a longer one so buckle up

Lance's POV

"Good shot man," Lando told Lance after he hit on to the green. The two had been golfing all day, blowing off steam before racing took back over their lives in the coming weeks. They picked up their bags and started down towards where they hit.

"So what's y/n's deal?" Lance asked Lando causally, trying to be nonchalant. Lando tossed him a look of surprise.

"What do you mean?"

"Is she single or...?"

Lando smirked. Y/n was one of his best friends on the grid. The American woman had raced with him since they were 12 and now drove for Haas. She was a ruthless competitor and even scared Lando a bit sometimes. Lando had always admired how she didn't pay the media any mind with her easy "i don't give any fucks" attitude. She had already been called the next Kimi Räikkönen. Off the track, she gave off cool girl energy vs. the sweet kind. Everyone on the grid wanted to be friends with her even if he didn't have a really good reason as to why.

"Yeah, she's single," he said. "Why? Trying to hit?"

"Dude, I know she's your friend but we both know she's hot as fuck," Lance said looking over. Lando shrugged.

"Of course I know that, but I didn't really think she was your type."

"How so?"

"Every girl I have ever seen you with looks at you like you created life itself," Lando said. "Y/n will not play the submissive little role you want."

"I like a challenge," Lance said cockily and Lando laughed.

Y/n's POV

Lando had called you immediately after he got done golfing to inform you that somehow you were now in Lance's sights. You didn't really pay any attention to that. You did not like Lance. It wasn't really fair, as you actually didn't know him that well but he represented a lot of what you were not. You'd grown up with a single dad after your mom had passed away when you were a child. Your dad started working 12 hours a day once he realized that this racing hobby wasn't going to go away.

Not being able to afford moving overseas, you had lived with a host family in the UK so that you were able to travel to more karting races in a budget friendly way. You had fought tooth and nail to get your F1 seat and you couldn't really say the same about Lance. He was attractive though, you could admit that. He had some kind of cocky, brooding vibe going that you were definitely into. And him being one of the few drivers that were 6 foot was a plus.

After that golfing day you had noticed his presence way more than usual. You'd seen him around Monaco at the club, hanging out with Lando more, and at PR events. He had been noticeably closer to you, always almost hovering. The amusing thing though was that you still hadn't really talked to him. It was like the two of you were doing a silent dance.

Tonight you were way out of your comfort zone, and actually happy to find a familiar face in Lance. You'd been invited to a charity gala that Haas was involved with. Your teammate, Ollie, couldn't make it so you were unfortunately on your own. Lance was there of course, as his father was a top donor, and you spied him sipping a drink by the bar, dressed in a nice fitted suit. His eyes drank you in as he watched you make your way towards him.

"Y/n," he drawled. "What a pleasant surprise."

"I would say the same, but it's a party for the rich to remind everyone how rich they are so it wouldn't be real if you weren't here," you shot back and he smirked.

"Can I get you a drink?" You nodded and watched him carelessly lift his finger up to the bartender, gaining his attention immediately to order you a glass of wine. There was something so attractive to you about how he fit so perfectly in a moment like this.

"Enjoying the night?" He asked and you shrugged. This was not your kind of thing. Old rich men, blatantly hitting on you in front of their wives was also not your thing.

"Well only one comment from someone about how "they don't know what they'd do if they had a daughter that looked like me," so I would say it's going alright," you joked but watched Lance's eyes darken.

"Who?" He said and you sipped your wine, watching him curiously.

"It doesn't matter," you said and he leaned in closer to you.

"Tell me who."

Sighing, you turned your head scanning the room. You found the guy who had said it with his hand on a waitress's arm, clearly continuing a conversation she did not want. You wordlessly pointed him out and Lance leaned back motioning over a guy who was sporting an ear piece. He whispered something to the guy before turning back to you.

"What are you doing?"

"Don't worry about it sweetheart," he said smirking and you rolled your eyes at the term of endearment. You turned to people watch for a bit, enjoying getting to watch people make fools of themselves. A commotion caught your attention and you watched as the gross guy from earlier was arguing with what looked like to be security as they were escorting him out. You looked back at Lance who didn't say anything, just kept casually watching the scene.

Turning back, your back was hovering dangerously close to the Lance's chest and as someone brushed past you to get to the bar, you felt his arm come around you waist, pulling you into him. He didn't say anything and neither did you, so you kept on enjoying observing the party.

After a bit, people were taking to the dance floor to dance and you turned, pulling Lance's drink from his hand and setting it down. He looked at you curiously as you slid your hand into is dragging him to the floor. Settling one hand around his neck you pressed into him, breathing in his expensive cologne.

"What game are you playing at?" He whispered into your ear causing you to smirk.

"No game," you said, looking up at him. "Just bored."

Rolling his eyes, he moved his hand lower, pinching your ass which caused you to gasp. Amusement danced in his eyes as you gave him a look.

As the night came to a close, you followed him outside to the valet to get your car.

"Come home with me?" He asked and you brought your lips up to kiss his cheek.

"I'm not that easy sweetheart," you replied before turning to thank the guy for bringing your car around. Giving Lance one final look, you winked before dipping down into your seat.

One week later

The Friday before race week you found yourself enjoying the weird remixes Lando comes up with as they blasted through his apartment. It was supposed to be a casual thing but as more and more people poured through the door you regretted not wearing something nicer.

You were sitting on top of the kitchen island, chatting with Ollie and actively ignoring Lance who had been burning a hole in the side of your head for the last half hour.

"I'm kind of scared he's going to kill me," Ollie said nervously and you tilted your head in question. "Lance. You know the guy who looks like he's trying to figure out how much it would cost an assassin to kill me?"

You laughed loudly, sparing a look over at Lance who had his arms crossed and was frowning.

"Are you two seeing each other or something?" He said panicking. "Oh my god am I the other woman?"

"No we aren't seeing each other and I would protect you with my life," you said making the boy relax. That didn't last long as he bolted away the second he saw Lance making his way towards you. Resting hands on either side of you, you rolled your eyes.

"You scared him away," you pouted.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said simply.

"You could have just came over here like a normal person."

"I'm tired of playing cat and mouse," he said. "Let me fuck you."

Your eyes widened at his crude words as he left you genuinely speechless. You let him pull you off the counter and lead you out of Lando's apartment.

"You live here right?" He asked and you nodded, moving towards the elevator with him close behind. The ride was silent as you avoided meeting his eye in the reflection. Your eyes settled instead on the way his tshirt was tight around his chest and the gray sweatpants that just really do the thing ya know? You bit your lip, feeling yourself growing warm at what was about to go down.

Walking into your apartment you watched as Lance took it in. You'd lived here for the last two years and had tried to make it as cozy as possible with pictures of back home littered along the walls. Your favorite part though, was the wall behind your couch. It was floor to ceiling bookshelves filled with your very large collection of books.

Lance smiled at the books before looking back at you. You wrapped your arms around his neck pulling him closer to you. His hands found your waist as he dipped his head to meet your lips in a bruising kiss. You tugged at his hair causing him to groan into you which made you smirk. His hand slapped your ass hard in retaliation and he took advantage of your open gasp to shove his tongue in your mouth.

"Bedroom," you said panting as you came up for air and he leaned down to pick you up. You met his lips again as he carried you to your bedroom, laying you gently on the bed. Resting on your elbows, you watched as he pulled off his shirt. His time playing tennis on the side really had paid off. Next went his sweats so that all he was left in were his boxers.

"Your turn sweetheart," he said and you moved up to your knees. You pulled off the top you were wearing, revealing that you weren't wearing a bra. Lance was in a trance watching you, which made you smirk.

"Can you help me?" You asked innocently and he nodded quickly moving towards you. You laid back on the bed as he pulled your sweats off, taking in the lace thong that was in underneath.

"Wear this for me?" He teased and you leaned up.

"Maybe," you replied biting your lip. That sent him over the edge and he literally ripped them off of you.

"Lance what the fuck," you complained. "I liked those."

"I'll buy you the whole fucking store as long as you only wear them for me," he said and you felt your core throb at his words.

"You'd bett-" His tongue on your clit stopped you mid thought as you moaned out. He took his time, lazily dragging it up and down. You pushed your hips against his face in desperation and his arms came around you holding your hips in place.

"Patience," he tsked and you whined in protest. Taking pity on you, he entered a finger, curling it up against your g-spot causing your mind to go numb. Keeping the one finger in, he massaged your g-spot as his tongue assaulted your clit while you became a whimpering mess. You didn't even have energy to tell him you were cumming, clenching around his finger, your back arching off the bed.

Lance kept going, his mouth latched around you until you pushed him off.

"Too sensitive," you whimpered and he gave you a huge grin. He got off the floor and moved up to you giving you a short kiss. Surprising him, you pulled him down and maneuvered your way on top.

Pulling his boxers down, his dick slapped up against his skin and you took a sharp breath as you took in the size. Lance started to say something but you had started grinding your pussy along the length of him, and his breath hitched. He brought his hand up to one of your breasts, circling his thumb around your nipple.

Eventually you gripped him up and slowly slid down causing him to throw his head back against the wall. Moving your hands on his chest to support you, you started moving up and down. Rolling your hips into him made Lance groan out and dig his fingers harshly into your waist.

As you felt yourself getting closer you started moving faster against him.

"Come on sweetheart, use me," he rasped out and you leaned forward wrapping your hands around his throat as you rutted against him, chasing your high. "Fuck baby."

"Yeah you like that? You like me choking you," you said breathlessly. His hand hit your ass hard and that finally sent you over the edge, crying out as your orgasm crashed against you. Before you even had time to think, he flipped you over shoving your head into the pillows before slipping back in.

He gripped your hips hard and started pounding into you. Lance yanked your head up by your hair holding you into his chest as he spilled into you.

Pulling out, he set you down gently and you tried to come back to life. You heard him go to the bathroom and rolled over looking at your phone to see a text asking where you went from Lando. You replied quickly before seeing Lance come back with a wet towel in his hands. You winced as it touched your inner thighs and Lance looked up at you.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked and you shook your head silently. You weren't used to this gentle side of him. He put the towel away before putting his sweats back on and sliding in next to you. You turned over, laying your head on his chest and felt his arm wrap around you. Snuggling into him, you drifted off.

Leaving Lance in bed the next morning you were deep in thought while making pancakes. This was unknown territory. First of all, you never let one-night stands sleep over. But this was Lance and you knew him. You were sure it was definitely a one-night stand but then you weren't sure. You admittedly had enjoyed spending time with him the past month but your mind went back to what Lando had said. He just wanted to hook up. Maybe it was better to just move on like it hadn't happened.

"Hey," his voice said, pulling you out of your thoughts. You turned to see him staring at you, running a hand through his hair.

"Hey," you said nonchalantly. "Are you staying for breakfast or no?"

"I should probably head out," he said. This was what he had decided would be his test to see what you were thinking about last night. Would you want him to stay or not?

"Cool, I'll see you in Zandvort then," you said casually and turned back to your food. He didn't want to stay you thought to yourself.

She doesn't want me to stay, Lance thought and pulled his shirt over his head before heading out.

Wednesday night before the Dutch GP

Lando had been pestering you about Lance nonstop on the flight to Zandvort.

"I just don't believe that this is just another one night stand," he said eyeing you suspiciously.

"I don't know what to tell you Lando," you replied not looking up from your phone. "We were two consenting adults looking to blow off steam."

"Yeah but the pictures from the gala, come on, there is at least something there," he said.

"First of all, stop looking at gossip pages and second of all, he didn't want to stay and that's okay," you said. "Could there have been potentially something more? Maybe, but he left."

"Well did you ask him to stay?"

"I didn't tell him to leave."

Lando threw up his hands in defeat. "You are impossible."

You spent the hour after landing in an all drivers meeting where you had seen Lance for the first time since that night. He nodded towards you but made no move forward. You were petty back, choosing to sit on the far end of the table away from him at the dinner after the meeting. Some of the WAGs were there so you spent a lot of time talking to Alex Albon's gf Lily and subtly glancing at Lance every so often. Lando caught you once smirking which resulted in you kicking his shins causing him to yell out.

Towards the end of the night you were contemplating going over there but the next time you looked up, he was talking to a random blonde who was clearly flirting with him. You watched him flirt back and an unknown feeling washed over your body. You were upset? Something about him flirting with someone else was hurting you and you were shocked to feel yourself getting teary eyed.

Abruptly, you stood up, mumbling something about being tired and avoiding Lando's concerned glance. Lance's attention was now on you and he caught your eyes, his own widening when he noticed but you quickly vanished. He shot a confused look at Lando who looked from Lance to the blonde before getting up to catch up to you.

"Y/n," Lando called out and you slowed allowing him to catch up to you. You had called an Uber already and were just waiting for it to arrive.

"What's wrong with me?" You said, turning to Lando, a few tears falling down your face. He pulled you into his arms, rubbing your back.

"It's okay," he murmured as more tears leaked out of your face.

"I don't even like him like that," you said pulling back and Lando gave you a sympathetic look. "Fuck."

The Uber pulled up and you both climbed into it and headed back to the hotel.

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

Lance's POV

Being race day, most of the drivers were in the zone even early in the morning but Lance didn't care anymore as he hunted Lando down, finally cornering him at McLaren.

"What did I do wrong?" He begged Lando. "She won't look at me, she basically bolts from every room I enter, she won't answer my texts."

Lando shifted from one foot to another, not knowing what to say. Lance went on.

"I thought she just wanted it to be one night. She didn't ask me to stay and never texted me after. But then what happened Wednesday? She looked at me, clearly upset and left. And now this."

"I think she's just confused," Lando finally says. "I think initially she thought it would be a one-time thing, but seeing you flirt with that girl made it real."

"Fucking hell," Lance said, running a hand through his hair. "She didn't ask me to stay!"

"Well, she didn't ask you to leave?" Lando said hesitantly and Lance glared at him.

Y/n's POV

Your team did its final checks before giving you a thumbs up and running off the track. You locked in, ready to race and took off into lap one. Your first ten laps were great. Starting in P12, you had already passed two others and were looking for a third overtake.

One second, everything was fine. The next second you felt someone clip your back wheel causing you to spin out into the car in front of you and flip. The world went black.

Then you were back. Someone was yelling your name. Lance? You looked up to see him prying your helmet off, eyes wild with panic. Trying to move your legs, you started to freak out when you couldn't get your right one to budge.

"I can't move my leg," you said panicking. "I can't move my leg!"

Two arms wrapped under your arms and pulled you out of the car. The sudden movement triggered a wave of dizziness and you stumbled a little. Lance picked you up bridal style and behind the loud ringing in your ears you could hear him screaming at someone.

"Where is the fucking medical team?" He screamed. You were going in and out of consciousness. The next moment of clarity came being loaded in the ambulance. You saw Lance being held back by stewards and you mumbled his name reaching out. They finally let go, allowing him in the ambulance and then the world went black again.

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

Waking up you were confused. You knew you were in a hospital room but this one was so nice it felt like it wasn't real. Your bed was bigger, there was a nice couch next to the bed, a massive flat screen tv, and what looked to be like a fully stocked fridge.

Your head throbbed and you looked down to see that you were not in a hospital gown but an Aston Martin tshirt. Your right leg was propped up, knee wrapped with ice.

"Hey sleepy head," Lando called out as he walked in, relieved to see you awake.

"Why am I in the fanciest hospital room ever?" You questioned and he snorted.

"That would be because Lance had the most Karen-like meltdown I have ever seen when they put you in a normal room. His dad had to pay someone off who had recorded it."

You soaked in that information. Where was he then? Lando saw your puzzled expression.

"Currently he is forcing your doctor here to consult with his family doctor back home about what appears to be a concussion and a torn ACL oddly enough."

"I remember him pulling me out, did he crash too?"

"Yeah, when Esteban hit you, you flipped into Lance. I'm sure you remember some of it after but the videos are crazy. He was a madman holding you."

You heard voices from the hallway and sucked in a breath as the man himself walked into the room. He stopped when he saw that you were awake and just stared.

"I'll show myself out then, I'll see you at home," Lando said, leaning in to kiss your forehead before leaving. Lance nodded to him as he left before slowly making his way to your side, pulling up a chair to sit in.

"I'm guessing this shirt is courtesy of you," you said, breaking the ice. He nodded, taking your hand into his caressing your skin softly. "So what's the verdict, when can I go home?"

"Later today, I have the jet already to go for us when we are ready," he said and you nodded.

"Lando is heading back now, and he's getting stuff from your apartment to drop off at my place," he said nonchalantly and your head snapped up to him.

"What are you talking about?"

"You are staying with me for the time being."

He noticed your anger rising and kept going.

"Look I'm done doing this whole do you like me or not thing. The answer was clear when you stormed out of that restaurant. I live in a million-dollar condo with a full staff which will be a lot more comfortable for you. You can stay in whatever room you want, though I would prefer you stayed in mine."

You crossed your arms glaring at him.

"You are insufferable." He leaned closer to you holding your face in both of his hands.

"I don't care," he said. "When you passed out in my arms I was scared out of my mind that I would lose you. Life is short and I'm not wasting more time not being with you."

Your heart swelled at his words, breaking your resolve about the temporary move thing. You leaned forward, kissing him softly.

"Now let's see that video of you having a karen meltdown," you said with a wicked grin.

[starslyt]

𝗔𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗲 — 𝗘. 𝗬𝗲𝗮𝗴𝗲𝗿

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗶𝘃𝗲!𝗘𝗿𝗲𝗻, 𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗲𝘀, 𝗽𝗲𝘁 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗲𝘀 (𝗺𝗮, 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘀, 𝗲𝘁𝗰), 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵. 𝗜𝘁𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘆 𝘁𝗮𝗺𝗲

𝗪𝗰: 𝟵𝟲𝟲

smut under the cut. minors do not interact

the love was strong— too strong and too good to be fucking true. eren was your home and you were his but a night out turned this reality upside down real fast

in your defense, it wasn’t even your fault that some other nigga walked up to you trynna sweet talk you, you wasn’t really thinking straight anyways— not after mixing liquor

“you mad fine..” “yeah? you think so?” those pretty two tones lips wrapping around that glass of yours eyeing the mf infront of you

even through the giggles and soft smiles you made for the nigga, you ain’t want him. it just felt nice to hear from a 3rd person perspective to hear how sexy you were

but Eren didn’t find it enjoyable. watching his girl fall for some other dudes tricks like that and that easily. he’d let you have your little fun or whatever, but when y’all got home it was gonna be game fucking over for you

that’s why now your legs were wrapped around his hips as eren messily kissed those full lips of yours. thrusting his cock in your wet cunt and as you moaned for him trying to convince him it wasn’t nothing

“’m sorry daddy— please.. shit—” you scratched up his chest as your pretty lips fell open locking eyes with his. they were so cloudy with anger and jealousy

“you think he was gon’ fuck you like this, ma? you though you was gon’ get off with that shit? don’t play with me, girl.”

a ring of cream settling at his base and some dripping down his balls as he pounded into your messy cunt with pants and whines of his own as he punished that pussy for your wrong-doings

“this pussy s’good mama, yeah keep them legs open f’me. lemme show you who you belong to.”

Eren spoke against those lips of yours as his nails dug into your thighs leaving marks. he was too inlove with this pussy to ever let it go, under some circumstances and standards.

“ouu daddy s’too much..” your lips gently biting into his. eren eyes never left your face, them faces is what had him so inlove. that magic he saw in them eyes of yours when you were screaming for more or, in this case, less

“nah, baby, take this dick. you a big girl now mama, you can do it. make daddy proud.”

Eren huffed as he stroked that swollen clit of yours trying to milk that orgasm out of you. your hands gripped the sheets hard as your back arched off the bed with a breath you sucked up to moan out coming to a halt, quickly.

“yeah there it is, sweet girl. cum f’me, gimmie that shit”

the roughness of his voice went straight to your pussy as you squirted. your liquids spraying his chest as he let out a soft sigh as he watched that pussy cream and squirt all for him

“keep going, girl. you makin’ me so proud. look at this pussy squirting f’me. this pussy s’good. i don’t know who you think you playin’ with.”

Eren pounded into you harder with a grin on this face was he watched those pretty brown eyes of yours roll back and that brown skin glistening in the light as you squirmed and moaned

“who you think you runnin’ from, ma? you finna gimme one more. don’t start runnin’ now. keep this pussy cummin’ f’me. you wanna act grown so bad be grown wi’me”

all you could do was choke back a complaint and some slick-mouthed comment but as soon as the annoyance rised it was quickly consumed by the pleasure from feeling his fat cock pumping out of those squeezing walls of yours

“fuck— you squeezin’ so tight. you gon’ make me cum, princess? make daddy cum. lemme fill this pretty pussy up with my babies. open up f’me..”

Eren’s hands squeezed around your waist as he piston fucked his way deeper inside you making your vision flash white and a loud moan escape your throat

you’d both get a complaint from the neighbors, but that was the least of your worries right now

Eren’s nimble fingers trailing down your your clit once more pulling and rubbing it trying to milk out another orgasm from you as his orgasm was quickly approaching

“you gon let me fill this pussy up?” “yeah.. please daddy.. ouu shit fill this pussy up. s’all yours” your toes were curling behind his head, those thighs that he loved so much started to shake as his orgasm was just a few thrusts away

“cum wi’me. c’mon mama, i can feel this pussy getting wetter, make a mess f’daddy again.”

“yes daddy.. oh my g— m’cumming! m’cumming! oh shit—”

once more your pussy was gushing for him again with a scream ripping out of your throat as he fucked his own orgasm into you, his thrusts becoming sloppy and uneven as his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes closed

those puffy lips of yours swallowing every drop of him in that pussy as he slowed his thrusts down so both of you could catch your breaths.

“yeah that’s my good girl, shiiit baby. such a good job. lemme fuck a baby into you. i think you’d be so pretty with my babies in you. ain’t nobody finna take yo pretty ass away from me.”

he panted as his thrusts picked up again as a whine came out of your throat it didn’t seem like you two were gonna stop for a while, not until he got you pregnant with his baby.

[dixons-sunshine]

Go To Prom With Me? | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: You wanted to go to prom, but you knew that Daryl didn't want to. Due to that fact, you reassured him that it was okay, and that you wouldn't want him to be uncomfortable. Daryl, in an attempt to cheer you up, did something that meant more to you than any real prom would ever mean.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre Apocalypse.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: One swear word.

Word count: 1.4k.

A/n: Requested by @walkingtalkingsomething. I hope you like this!

Daryl knew you wanted to go to prom. Despite your steadfast denial that you didn't, he knew you did. He could see it in the way you eyed the prom posters in the hallways at school. He could see it in the way you stared longingly at the prom dresses you saw in the magazines your mom bought for you. He could see it in the way your cheerful smile would falter slightly whenever one of your friends at school would gush about the dresses they bought for the momentous occasion. You wanted to go to prom so badly.

Yet you gave up on that dream, all because you loved him and didn't want to go without him.

Daryl felt like absolute crap for taking that once in a lifetime opportunity away from you. He had tried to talk himself into sucking it up for one night. You were his girlfriend, for crying out loud. He could offer up one measly night if it meant you'd be happy. Hell, he had even planned on saying yes when you had brought it up a week prior, but his mouth had worked faster than his brain. He had said no, and even though you reassured him that it was okay, he could see the way your mood had deflated.

Ever since that day, he had been working tooth and nail to find a way to make it up to you. It was too late to buy prom tickets, though, so he had to think of something else. And he did. He just hoped that his efforts were enough to make you happy, just like you deserved.

“Where are we going?” you asked for seemingly the hundredth time since Daryl had dragged you from your trailer. You were under the impression that the two of you were going on a date to the local burger joint a few miles away from the trailer park. That's what he had told you. That's why you had decided to dress a little nicer; a mid length pale yellow dress that hugged you in all the right ways, a jacket to shield yourself from the slight chill in the air, and sandals to match the aesthetic. If you couldn't go to prom, you'd at least still dress up for your date with your boyfriend.

A small smile tugged at the corners of your boyfriend's lips, a smile that you couldn't see. Daryl had dressed a bit nicer as well, opting instead for a pair of jeans that didn't have any holes in them, and a nice, blue button down shirt that he had scraped money together to buy just for this occasion, that was however shielded beneath the jacket he wore. He was also wearing his nicest pair of sneakers. He had to admit, he did look rather nice. You had seemed to agree with him, because if your hungry stare was anything to go off of, his attire was doing him wonders.

“I jus' gotta show ya somethin' first 'fore we go. Jus' be patient, Princess. I promise s'worth the wait.” He was rather proud of himself for finding a way to throw you off from figuring out his intended destination. He had specifically mapped out a path he knew you wouldn't recognize, all so that he can make the surprise better. If he had taken the regular route, you would've figured out his plans, no doubt about it.

You scoffed, but couldn't help the small smile that spread across your face when Daryl reached over to gently interlace his fingers with yours. “I wish you would've told me that we would be hiking through the woods before our date. I would've worn something more appropriate for the outdoors, and not a dress with sandals.”

“Nah, ya look great. Wouldn't want ya to change,” Daryl replied honestly. “'Sides, we're almost there. S'jus' through those bushes. But first, I wanna ask ya somethin'.” He let go of your hand and reached down to pluck a beautiful daisy from the forest floor. He tucked the flower behind your ear before gently taking hold of both of your hands, his voice soft and sincere. “Go to prom with me?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What?” you inquired confusedly, your eyes searching his for answers to the millions of questions running through your mind, faster than the speed of light.

Daryl adapted a more nervous stature, his smile becoming more bashful. His cheeks blazed alight with a red colour, but he powered through his embarrassment. He cleared his throat and slowly began to lead you through the bushes, chuckling when a surprised gasp escaped your chest. “Will ya go to prom with me?” Daryl repeated his earlier question, his voice incredibly close to your ear as he stood behind you.

The sight that beheld you was incredible; a small picnic had been set up, rose petals scattered across the ground surrounding the blanket. Soft music was playing from the portable CD player, the exact one you had gifted to Daryl for his birthday a year prior, due to his walkman breaking. A few lanterns hung from the nearby tree, illuminating the scene with a beautiful gold glow. A single bouquet of roses sat in the middle of the blanket, messily sorted into the plastic that held it in place. Daryl had clearly arranged it himself, which made it even more special. And to top it off, it had all been set up by the river.

Your spot.

You turned to Daryl and pulled him in for a kiss, hoping to convey both your appreciation for his efforts and your love for him with the action. Daryl returned the kiss with a fervor of his own, his arms moving to wrap around your waist. The kiss ended too soon for his liking, but when you pulled back and looked up at him with that radiant smile of yours, he knew that he wouldn't want to miss that. His efforts had paid off, it seemed.

“Yes,” you spoke softly as your eyes started to get watery. “Yes, I'll go to prom with you. You didn't even have to ask.” You leaned your forehead against his, a disbelieving laugh escaping you. “You did all of this for me?”

Daryl shrugged nonchalantly. “Figured s'the least I could do. I couldn't man up and take ya to the real thing, so I improvised and did this. Certainly ain't nothin' much, but—”

“It's perfect,” you whispered. “It's so perfect. I couldn't ask for better than this.”

Daryl smiled and pulled back, extending a hand towards you. “May I have this dance, Gorgeous?”

You giggled softly and nodded. “Of course you may,” you replied as you slipped your hand into his, allowing him to pull you closer and begin to sway to the soft music that the CD player emitted. You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head against his chest, while Daryl rested his hands on your hips and rested his chin on top of your head.

The two of you stayed in each other's embrace for a while, simply swaying to the music. However, after a while, Daryl broke the silence. “M'sorry I couldn't take ya to the prom,” he apologized sincerely. “I know this ain't what ya wanted, but I hope s'enough to make up for it.”

“It's more than enough,” you reassured him in a soft whisper. “It's way better. I love it. Almost as much as I love you.”

Daryl smiled softly. “I love ya more, Sunshine.” He pulled away from your embrace and gently took your hand in his. “C'mon, let's eat somethin'. I've got somethin' else planned for later.” He lead you over to the blanket and picked up the bouquet of roses, slowly extending it to you with a nervous smile. “I, uh...” He cleared his throat before continuing. “I didn't have money to buy ya a nice one, so I had to pick 'em and arrange 'em myself.”

“Thank you.” You smiled while taking the bouquet from him, smelling the sweet scent of the roses. “It's perfect.”

“Not as perfect as ya, that's for sure,” he told you with a nonchalant shrug. “Now c'mon, let's eat. I got yer favourite.”

“I love you, Daryl Dixon.”

A beat of silence passed before he responded. “And I love ya, Y/N Y/L/N. So fuckin' much.”

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

What animal do you most resemble and why?

So just so yall know before you go to your piles. The animals in the pictures might not be the creature that you most resemble. I am using the Untamed Spirit Animal Oracle in this reading. Please take what resonates and leave the rest behind but always be open to new perspectives about yourself.

_________

PILE ONE

Astrology: Pisces, Sagittarius, Aries

Song: all i ever wanted by Mazie

Vibes: 🖤💙🔭✈️🕷🦋🕶🎓🐾🌏🌊🫐🍙🧊🎧♟🦽💎⛏🛋📘✒️💤♿️🔊♠️🏁

Cards: Lion, 5 of Cups, 7 of Wands, The Void, Karmic Relationships

Hi, pile 1! Welcome. These cards tell me you look most like a lion. I can see some of you have prominent noses that make your face very lion-like. All of you have the most piercing fierce eyes. I also see you have soft hands and nice nails that you probably get done regularly. You are legit gorgeous and you have this extensive hair routine you do almost every day. You might wear a bonnet to sleep or you have a silk pillow case to protect it. I can also see you are surprised by these compliments. You have some self-esteem issues that frustrate you a lot. These beliefs you have about your physical appearance are built around the opinions of others. First off, they only shit on you cus they are jealous. These cards have a weird undertone of relationships so I think maybe you had a partner at one point who was SUUUUPER jealous of how beautiful you are. Wow, they are pressed about it. They probably said some extremely mean things to you about your appearance that stick with you even though it doesn't look like they are around you anymore. I hear them saying you have RBF or something. You have literally nothing to feel insecure about my dear.. Like you complimented yourself in the mirror around this person and they like immediately tried to knock you down a peg. Dude, that person is SO ENVIOUUS. Don't listen to their words. You need to see through their words to the true emotions behind them. Don't let these jealous people dim you light, girl!!! Their words are not based on reality. It is distorted by their emotions. Just know when they look in the mirror all they hear is their momma tellin them they're ugly as fuck. They were just projecting their insecurities, baby.

PILE TWO

Astrology: Taurus, Leo, Aquarius

Song: Body Talks by The Struts, Kesha

Vibes: 💛🧡❤️💙🎁🧿💰🌅🏖🚦🚚🚎🎯🎭🏅🍹🫐🍂🌊🌈🌏🍁🐠🫂🤖🥶😰

Cards: Badger, 7 of Pentacles, 5 of Wands, The Seven Star Sisters, Jump In

Hey there, pile 2!! You have such an interesting energy. The animal you most resemble is the Badger. So from what I'm reading from the other cards this is less of a physical resemblance and more of an attitude resemblance. The way you hold yourself is like you do not give a fuck what anyone thinks about you. You had many people around you growing up who were considered "conventionally attractive" and for a long time, this bothered you. I think sometimes it does still bother you but you have grown your self-esteem a lot since you were little. You got tired of fighting for attention real quick. You realized how dumb the competition of appearance is and began to explore your expression more for fun rather than to fit in. You have a unique way of expressing yourself, especially with your make-up. Dark eye shadow is your signature look. It makes your already really unique eye color pop like nothing else. You dress very alternatively compared to your siblings and/or friends. The style does have a touch of whimsicalness to it too. I see some of the people who picked this pile have a curvy body type. You keep your hair short for the most part because it's easier to manage while short. You truly have such a fantastic head-turning style. I really do love your energy, my dear. Like, wow you are fucking awesome. I would have looked at you as a kid and wanted to look like you so bad.

PILE THREE

Astrology: Scorpio, Libra, Gemini

Song: The Middle by Jimmy Eats World

Vibes: 🤍🖤🔎🖋🧷📓🩺🔬🔌📷📼🎥🎹🎼🎤🎧🎬🌪🐚🪨🐇🕊🦢🐈‍⬛🕸🐰👟

Cards: Toad, Fox, 8 of Swords, 2 of Wands, Double Mission, Deep Cellular Healing

Oh, pile 3. This is gonna be a kind of shadow work-y kind of reading so just be prepared to be called out okay? Trigger warning for SA. You make yourself ugly on purpose. You hid your beauty from yourself. I dunno exactly what you do to hide it from others but I see you wearing clothes that keep your shape a secret. You do your make-up in a way that accentuates the dark cycles under your eyes. You make yourself look sick and dying. You force yourself to believe you resemble a Toad. I don't blame you, my friend. You went through something truly terrible that made you feel ugly so you express it outwardly constantly. You believe you are ugly because of what happened. What they did to you didn't taint your beauty, homie. You aren't dirty. You aren't hideous or unattractive naturally. You are so scared of what happened, happening again. It makes you put up these defenses in-order to feel safe. My friend you are already safe without these defenses. You might be doing way more harm than good, my friend. If you stopped hiding your true beauty from yourself, you would more resemble a Fox. These cards are encouraging you to heal from what happened to you mentally. Your reaction to what happened isn't wrong but you shouldn't destroy yourself because of how others treated you. You are stunning and so naturally gorgeous. I hear you saying that your feelings about what happened don't matter. That is a lie you tell yourself. That is a lie someone else told you. What happened to you was truly awful. What they did to you was disgusting but it doesn't make you disgusting. It makes THEM disgusting. What THEY did is disgusting. You are beautiful. You are so drop-dead, star-struck glamorous! You aren't a toad. You are a fox. Please embrace your authenticity because you deserve to feel good. You deserve to see your body for what it truly is.

PILE FOUR

Astrology: Cancer, Capricorn, Virgo

Song: Honey And The Bee by Owl City

Vibes: 🤍💖💛🦦😜👄☀️👟🐁👙👑🎂🐱🐻‍❄️🌙🦭🌸🌼🍣🍰⚾️🎗🎟🎲📿

Cards: Otter, Queen of Cups, The Well, A New Earth, Called

Pile 4. You are so fucking cute. Like so cute. Like I feel your energy and all I feel and think is "Awwww~ What a cuuutie!". You most resemble an Otter. Which in my opinion, ARE SO FUCKING CUTE!!! I see you like to color your hair in pastel colors and it's SUUUPER long. Like you have been growing out your hair for a while now. You have this cute little button nose and these super pretty dark eyes. Ohmygods you have no idea how much I think brown eyes are the prettiest eyes. You put a lot of creativity in your outfits so you always look so snatched and dolled up. You like the long flowy dresses and shirts that billow in the wind. They make you look like a fairy. You always smell like incense and sea salt. You probably love swimming or surfing or some kind of sport you play in the water so you are very lean. I see you might be pursuing some kind of profession in the beauty industry. Either that or you just look like a model and people think you are one. You wear these pretty flowers in your hair that give you this gorgeous halo of lavender. You have been absolutely blessed by Lady Aphrodite. She loves you like her child. She blesses you with fashion sense and soft features.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

A Collared Lamb [2]

Robibe Paulson x afab!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Kinktober 2023 Masterlist • Day 17: Praise Kink

Summary: You tell Robbie what to do.

A/N: This was meant to be for kinktober 2023 (I'm so sorry). A massive thank you to @thexsanctuaryx for saving my butt yet again and beating.

Warnings: praise kink, dom/sub dynamics, humping a pillow, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1699

Robbie fidgets a little with his fingers, digging his nails into the skin of his thumb as he bites his lip. 

“Here you go,” You come in from the kitchen and hand him a coffee - decaffeinated. He shouldn’t really drink regular on his medication. 

“Thank you.” He takes it quickly as you sit down next to him on the sofa. “Your place is really nice.” 

You smile at the little blush on his cheeks. “Thank you.” 

“Really nice, thank you for, um, you know, letting me come over.” 

Your grin widens. “Of course.” 

He takes a gulp of the coffee that is still a fraction too hot, while you blow on your drink.

You’d met up a few times since you’d exchanged your information at The Collared Lamb club, going for a walk and for lunch, just getting to know each other. 

This was the first time you’d both been alone with each other. 

Robbie sets his cup down and winces. 

“You okay?” 

“Yeah, I, um…” There’s a smear of blood on the outside of the mug from his thumb, he hadn’t noticed it had started bleeding. 

You grab a tissue. 

“It’s nothing, really, I’m sorry-” He says quickly, but you take his hand and wrap the tissue around his finger. 

“It’s okay.” You smile. “Did you catch it?” 

“I… um… I was picking at it.” 

You nod. “I noticed you do that sometimes.”

He hung his head. 

“Hey,” You lightly stroke his cheek while you squeeze his thumb softly. 

He’s biting his lip when he looks up at you. You smile and press the pad of your finger against his bottom lip, easing it out from in between his teeth.

“It’s okay, I’m not telling you off.” 

“I know, it’s just,” he swallows. “I know I shouldn’t. It’s a dumb habit.” 

You shake your head. “It’s not dumb, you’re not dumb.” 

He flushes a little at the praise, squirming slightly at your words. 

You pause, a little cheeky thought settling. “You’re a good boy, Robbie, you know that?” 

He wriggles, a shiver passing over him. A soft little sigh escapes his plush lips as he gazes up at you.

“You like that?” You tease lightly. “Like being a good boy?” 

He shivers again and nods shyly. His cock swells, pressing painfully against his trousers.

“Do you want me to stop?” 

He shakes his head. 

“Okay,” you keep your voice even and steady, even though the glee is building dizzily along your veins. “But you’ve got to be good and tell me if you want me to stop, okay?” 

He nods rapidly. 

You give him a look.

“I will. I will.” He says quickly and licks his lips. 

You pause. Letting the anticipation build. “Good boy.” 

He groans, closing his eyes and squeezing his legs together. 

“You didn’t tell me you had a praise kink.” You say softly. 

His eyes snap open and he looks at you bashfully. “I’m, I’m sorry, I should have, I-”

“It’s fine,” You cup his face with one hand, “Normal. Lots of people have one.” You grin. 

He smiles shyly at you. “Can I,” he pauses for a moment, remembering the things you have talked about before. Clear communication. “Can we…?”

“What would you like?” You ask softly. 

He shakes his head, breathless. “I don’t know, I need…” he leans closer to you, whining happily when you give him a soft kiss. 

“My good boy needs to come, right?” 

He shivers, groaning and nodding his head. 

“Alright.” You pull back a little and he sighs, trying to follow your lips. “No.” You draw the word out, no real heat to it. 

He stops instantly. “Sorry.” 

You shake your head. “It’s okay. Get up.” You motion to the middle of the room with your head and he jumps to his feet straight away. 

“That’s really good Robbie, well done.”

He swallows thickly, his eyes glazed. 

“Now take off your clothes.” 

He pulls them off hurriedly, trying to get it done as quickly as possible to please you. You smile at his eagerness. 

“Good boy.” 

He groans, his eyes rolling back ever so slightly. His cock twitching as it bobs free. 

“Now get on your knees.”

 He drops to the floor quickly and puts his hands on his thighs.

“So good Robie, you’re doing really well.” 

He smiles happily, preening a little. 

“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” 

He blushes, looking down.

“Uh, no, look at me.” 

He quickly looks back up. 

“You’re very beautiful.” You repeat slowly, holding his gaze as you speak. You lightly touch his face. “Kind and handsome.” You trail your hand slowly down his neck, his chest and stomach, lightly gliding your fingertips over his thick length. “All of you.”

He shivers, arching into your touch and biting down a sob when you move back. 

“I’m going to be back, okay? Just be good and stay like you are.” You stand and walk out of the room to your bedroom, 

He does exactly as you ask, trying to calm his rapid, excited breathing. 

You have a bottle in your hand when you come back in, and a pillow that you place on the floor next to him.

Robbie doesn’t look at the items, keeping his gaze fixed on you. 

“Good boy, Robbie.” You kiss his forehead, running your hand through his soft hair. 

He whines gently in the back of his throat.

“You’re being so behaved. Doing such a good job.” 

He puffs his chest out a little as you sit back down on the sofa in front of him and cross your legs.

“Now, I’ve put a pillow there, and a bottle of lube.” You gesture and he follows your hand. “What do you think I want you to do with them?” 

He bites his lip, his thoughts racing. “I…”

You wait patiently.

“I think you want me to,” he swallows, his skin flushing beautifully. “Want me to pour the lube on myself.”

“What part?” 

“On my,” he bites his lip harder and wriggles, he’s said the word plenty of times but there’s something about you asking him directly that makes him want to squirm and moan. “On my cock.” 

“Good boy.” 

He groans again. “And then, then you want me to fuck the pillow.” 

You smile. “Very good boy Robbie.” In all honesty, you didn’t have any particular thing in mind. But you thought this might be a good way to get him comfortable voicing his own desires. 

He puffs his chest out a little, eyes blown wide. 

“Go on then.” You nod your head. “I’m going to watch, make sure you do a good job and be a good boy and come.” 

He nods rapidly, spurred into action by your words. He grabs the lube and pours a hefty amount into his hand before he takes his heavy cock in one hand, the other squeezing his balls lightly as he strokes himself a few times. Then he grabs the pillow and folds it in half, then pauses. 

“Um, how, how do you… should I face you, or to the side?” He asks timidly. 

“Face me.” 

He nods eagerly and positions himself and the pillow. But before he can even think about easing forward you speak. 

“Put more lube in the pillow. Make it nice and wet.” 

He nods again, following your instructions to the letter as he empties a generous amount into the crease he’s made. He looks up at you as he gets back into position. Waiting patiently. 

“Go ahead.” You breathe.

Robbie guides himself forward, thrusting slowly into the pillow and groans. 

“Does it feel good?” 

He nods rapidly as he eases in and out at a tortuously slow pace, “Yes, yes, really good, thank you.” 

You smile, letting him close his eyes and moan sweetly as he fucks into the pillow for a few minutes at his own pace. 

“Faster.” 

His eyes snap open and to your face.

“I said faster.” 

Again, he nods rapidly, increasing the bucking of his lips and watching you until you give him an approving look. 

He whines low, pleasure spiking along his nerves as his muscles ache deliciously.

“That’s good Robbie.”

“T-thank you.” He hiccups, breathing heavily. “Feel-Feels really good.” 

You enjoy his moans and gasps for a few minutes longer, and how his skin flushes and his face contorts in pleasure.

“Slow.”

“What?” He chokes out a sob, but his hips slow to an almost stop instantly. 

“I said slow,” you repeat. “But you’re very good and did so, very, very good.” You lean forward and stroke his sweaty hair out of his eyes. 

He shivers, moaning quietly as he rocks agonisingly slowly. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Hurts.” He whines, tears in his eyes. 

“Aw, hurts?” You pout at him teasingly, still stroking his hair. “Why?” 

“Want-want,” he hiccups again, “want to come. Please?”

“Do you think you deserve that?” You ask as you sit back. 

He bites his lip and shakes his head, looking up at you with large doe eyes.

“Aww, Robbie, sweet thing, why? Why don’t you think you deserve it?” 

“I…” He swallows, looking at you beseechingly. “I don’t knoooow.” He whines, tears building in his eyes.

You lean forward, resting your arms on your knees, your face inches from his. “Well you do deserve it Robbie, you deserve it so much, you’re such a good boy, been so well behaved for me and fucking yourself so good on the pillow, putting on the best show. You deserve to come and come and feel so good and-”

He moans loudly, his hips jerking rapidly as he comes hard. His cock spurting inside the pillow and seeping into the cotton. His eyes roll back, his body shaking as bliss overcomes every nerve. 

He’s not quite sure when he blacks out, but he wakes with you cradling him on the floor covered in a warm, fluffy blanket. You’re stroking his hair and muttering soothing words.

Robbie nuzzles against you and you kiss the top of his head. “Thank you.” He mutters. 

“You feel okay, sweet thing?” 

He smiles at the pet name, wriggling closer and wrapping his arm around you. He nods. “So, so good.” 

“Good.”

Thank you for reading!

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[hotluncheddie]

Memories of somethin' even smoking weed does not replace.

wc: 2.9k | cw: alcohol | rated: M | part: 1/2 | tags: pre s4 au, steve harrington centric, stobin soulmates, raised catholic steve harrington

part 2 | ao3

˚♱₊✩‧₊⋆｡‧˚♱⋆₊✩‧₊

8:32pm January 3rd: Steve’s car

‘God stop complaining! It’s one party!’ Robin says, her exasperation at Steve finally boiling over.

Steve rolls his eyes, hard, wants to make sure she sees it. He’s stressed and uncomfortable and wants to be petty and petulant and complain because this night is going to end in him embarrassing himself somehow, he just knows it. 

Robin makes just as much of a face back at him but then her eyes are full of concern. ‘You’ve just, been so mopey lately.’ she fiddles with her fingers, bites a nail even though that was her resolution. ‘and I know you say you haven’t been, but you know that I know, that you barely got out of bed on your days off over the holidays and that makes me sad.’ Robin laments, ripping his bitchiness off like a bandaid, seeing whats underneath.  

Steve signs, defeated by her big beautiful brain. She is right, but. ‘Robbie. it was between Christmas and new year, there was nothing going on. What do you expect me to do? it’s literally time made for relaxing.’ Steves own exasperation falling away into something that just sounds tired. He’s so tired. And he hates it when she worries, he’s not, he’s still not used to it. Someone who cares, notices when he spends three days in bed because the thought of getting up when his parents are downstairs makes him want to puke. And, he loves her for it, but, sometimes it makes his skin crawl, makes him feel like he’s not good enough, not hiding well enough. Pitied. 

‘But you don’t relax. You mope. You, like, wallow.’ She pokes his arm a couple times for emphasis, but her voice is softer, still a little sad. ‘And.’ she takes a deep breath. ‘I know you don’t want to talk about it. But I also know this time of year makes you miss Nancy.’ 

‘Oh God, Rob, please.’ Steve whines, desperate now. ‘Don’t start bringing up Nancy.’ He drags a hand down his face, that is the last thing he wants to talk about. Think about. Admit anything to anyone about. 

She’s not, entirely wrong but Steve still hates hearing it. He does miss Nancy, or, well, misses her in theory. He doesn’t really miss her anymore. But, he misses being her boyfriend, a boyfriend. Being needed, and being held, as pathetic as that sounds.

‘I know. Just.’ Robin says, twisting in her seat to look at him looking at the road. ‘I just. I want you to have some fun dingus.’

Steve squeezes the steering wheel. He nods. Glancing at her and giving her enough of a smile that she knows not to feel bad. It’s really not her fault that this time of year makes him want to sink into a hole, makes him think about purgatory and black vines, what he wants for his future if both can exist.

‘It’ll just be some band kids there, a few stragglers, no one’s going to care that you’re there too.’ Robin explains. ‘Plus, if they say anything I’ll be there to defend you.’ And Steve can hear that care again, but its lighter, said through the joke. He lets his shoulders drop and Steve smiles for real. He can’t help it. 

‘Yeah, yeah.’ he says, like she isn’t his everything. Glancing away from the road a second, Steve catches her smile. Happy she’s won but happier that he’s going to at least try and have fun.

‘And, don’t forget you promised to help me with seeing if any of the girls there are even remotely available to me.’ Robin sits back normally in her seat. Talking normally again, worry about her soulmate time over. ‘Plus, who knows, your new favourite customer might just be there too.’ She says into the window, head leaning on her palm. 

‘Robin!’ Steve near shouts, scandalised that she’d bring that up. 

Robin just cackles.

‘Man, you say a guys jeans fit him nice one time and then it’s all you hear about.’ He grumbles, pretending his cheeks aren’t flaming red. He really hopes any discomfort tonight has nothing to do with that. He almost prays on it. But monsters come out of walls so he stops himself. 

Robin wriggles around in her seat, delighted by his suffering. ‘Hey! Hey! No, okay you ragged on me over Tammy! I can make fun of you for making goo goo eyes at Eddie Munson!’

9:00 January 3rd: Kitchen

Steve shivers as the heat from the house mixes with the cold evening air he just walked through. Robin at his side but she’s quickly swept up in a little crowd to say hellos. She looks for him but Steve just waves her on with a scrunch of his eyebrows and a gesture to the beer he wants to find a sport for. 

The kitchen in strewn with bottles and cups and snacks, not a total disaster but people have definitely been helping themselves. Steve is a little laser focused on getting the cans set down so he can start on one, relax his nerves a bit, so he doesn’t even notice Eddie sitting on the counter until he nearly gets kneed in the crotch. 

He takes a hasty step back and gives himself a mental shake, get out of his own head. Eddies smile looks amused, his eyes able to look so sharp. Steve swallows, grateful for Eddies silence. 

‘Hey man. You want one?’ Steve offers Eddie a beer and makes a spot for them on the side. 

Eddie takes it, nodding in thanks, their fingers don’t brush, Steve would know. ‘You looking for anything stronger tonight? like King Steve back in the day?’ Eddie asks, taking a drink, hair framing the long line of his neck.

The old name makes bile raise in his throat. Eddie didn’t mean it like that, probably, wouldn’t have said it if he’d known how much that name feels like a brand on Steves skin. Itchy and scarred. Like ‘Harrington’, like ‘Bullshit’, like something that makes people think they know him, like his body and self isn’t his own.  

Steve looks away. ’Uh, nah, I’ll stick to the classics.’ Popping the lid and taking a long gulp, going for casual, slouching against the counter.

Eddie nods like it’s no big deal. ‘I won’t make this awkward by asking you about college. I know you know I’ve seen you at family video.’ 

‘Your late back on ‘Poltergeist’.’ Steve says without thinking. Winces, why is he acting like such a loser? ‘But uh, yeah. Thanks.’ He finishes lamely. No way any colleges wanted him on his concussion grades and zero extra curricular credits. 

‘Shit, so you do actually do your job.’ Eddie shakes his head, like Steve had deeply wounded him, sarcastic and mocking, pretty little glint in his eye. But it still makes some ugly, desperate little part of Steve rear up and want to take it back, beg for forgiveness. 

Steve drowns that thought and chugs the rest of his beer. 

Someone must motion something to Eddie from one of the other rooms because he nods his head up in understanding. But before he goes he leans in closer to Steve, smirking. ‘Oh, and, don’t thank me yet. I also saw you in that sailor get up at the mall.’ 

Steve chokes on his spit, coughing and spluttering like an idiot.

‘Thanks for the beer.’ Eddie says, patting him once on the shoulder before hopping off the counter and into the throws of the party.

Steve watches him go, skin of his shoulder tingling through his sweater. He feels an itch, like he’s being watched and turns his head to find robin staring at him from where she’s still by the door, talking to friends. Her smile wicked. 

Robins parting words from the car float back through his mind and make his stomach twist. ‘Lucky for you, Eddie makes goo good eyes right back.’ She’d said, quiet and teasing, and Steve hates her. her hates her. 

It’s going to be a long night. 

10:54 January 3rd: Staircase

It’s a little quieter at the front of the house.

It had been going pretty well and then someone mentioned Starcourt. A couple pairs of eyes flashed to him in recognition. Someone murmuring to another,  mentioning Hop. And then Steves eyes were prickling and his wrists were tingling and he had to excuse himself. Squeezing Robins shoulder for her not to follow. Just a minute alone to breath. Sip his drink to get the copper to wash from his lips. Get his teeth back where they’re supposed to be.  

Orange streetlights filter through the window of the front door. It catches the dust, makes it sparkle. 

He thinks about midnight mass with his parents, their one Christmas plan that he’s not allowed to get out of. Thinks about how the light filtered through the stained glass, made patches of the floor look red. Thought about the ceiling of Starcourt, the taste of red metal on his tongue as the world spun. 

Went up for communion and crossed himself. Looked up at the crucifix. Thought about how the gash that opened in Joyce’s living room was red. How somethings grow in darkness, in cracks and out of sinew. A nail bat ripping through skin. 

He looks at the drink Robin made him as a joke, its almost wine coloured, a murky, deep red. It makes Steves insides twist, she didn’t mean it, she didn’t. But blood of the lamb is making the back of his eyelids flash red and brown, flash lightning and ash floating through the air. His nose filled with mould. 

‘Yeesh what is that Harrington?’ Steve looks up, Eddie’s blocking some of the orange light, head haloed and face in shadow. 

Steve looks back into the cup, seeing it for what it is again. Remembering how her face lit up with laughter as she dumped in whatever she could find, knowing it would be awful but knowing Steve would still drink it. She made it for him, how could he not? 

He looks back up at Eddie, Steve can smell his cologne. It smells good. ‘Don’t ask, Robin made it.’ He waves his hand and tries to clear his head of red and black. The spirits mix with the beer and now his hands and feet tingle, he focuses on that, it’s nice.

Eddie eyes it warily. ’You wanna trade?’ and he holds up a beer, a different brand that the ones Steve brought, he has two, for some reason. 

Steve looks into his cup, ‘Its honestly not that bad.’ He swirls the contents around a little, there’s something floating in it. 

‘Seriously?’ Eddie asks. Steve looks up at him and his eyebrows have disappeared behind his bangs 

Steve smiles, his lips tingling. ‘No.’ and his smile grows at Eddie laugh, he has dimples.

He looks at Eddie and decides, then, to take. See what he gets given. He can confess later.

The alcohol made a couple of the awkward conversations he had tonight bearable and the couple less awkward conversations he had enjoyable. Maybe it’ll do the same for him now. Steve takes the beer and places his other drink carefully on the stair behind where he’s sitting, makes a mental note to dump it out when he moves. 

He shifts, sitting in a way he hopes looks casual, like he wasn’t just thinking about divine sacrifice. The staircase it wide and the carpet is soft, a nice place to take a break. A nice place to talk to a boy. A boy who makes his heart beat in his throat. Steve can confess later. 

‘You run Hellfire right?’ He asks, sipping his beer and cataloguing again how the orange light shines on eddies hair, over his shoulder. 

Eddie faces him fully, bobbing his head slightly to the music, Steve doesn’t recognise the song, he doesn’t think its one they play on the radio. ‘Yeah?’ 

‘Yeah. like X-men’ Steve says.  

Eddie blinks at him, but then the corners of his mouth curl and his eyelids droop and Steve feels too hot suddenly. ’Okay, I’m gonna need his majesty to explain how he knows about either of those.’ 

Swallowing, Steve goes for honest. ’Well first off you used to put new posters up every, like, two weeks man, kinda hard to ignore.’ Steve says, lifting up a finger. he paid attention, eddies doesn't need to know yet how much. But Steve paid attention. 

Eddie stays silent, looks at him, eyes roaming over his face, lip still curled. Steve feels his adams apple bob. 

‘Second, I babysit some of the dweebs who are current members.’ Steve lifts a second finger, takes another sip of beer. ‘And three, X-men is like super popular. And, like, super good.’ And Steve takes another drink, just because, just to help him be. 

Eddies lips curl into a full smile, all teeth and a little tongue. He sips his own beer, looking away from Steve then back at him a couple times, like he thinks he’ll vanish, change before his very eyes. He shakes his head. ‘What changed with you man? I never expected any of that to ever come out of your mouth, like, ever.’ And eddies sounds kind of delighted, voice musical and tinkling. 

Steve just shrugs, feels hot, Eddies voice too close to happy, words too close to praise. ‘Grew up a little, I guess.’ He crosses his arms, looks down at his shoes. 

‘Yeah? That why no more parties?’ and Eddies voice is soft, Steve can feel his body heat, his knee by eddies hip. 

‘I’m just not so big on, that much attention any more. That much noise.’ Steve says, looking back into Eddies face. Finds him staring, lips quirked in a little smile, softer, then before. Leaning his chin in his hands on the banister, leaning into Steves space.

‘So, you and Buckley, what’s that about?’ Eddies whispering now, like he knows it’s precious. The orange light kisses his cheek.

Steve clears his throat, whispers back. ’Summer job. We scooped ice cream and she, uh, scooped up my heart.’ he smiles, just from talking about her, thinking about them. 

‘Oh.’ Eddie says, drawing away just slightly, eyes hardening in a way Steve hates. 

He almost reaches out, something drastic, desperate. But he pulls back, fiddles with the tab on his can. ‘No, um. Not that kind of oh. I mean in, like, a friend way. Totally platonic oh.’ 

‘Right’ Eddie comes back, but it’s not quite the same, the moment lost. Steve feels a rosary between his knuckles. 

‘Seriously, platonic soulmates. It’s a thing.’ He tries to lighten, tries to make Eddie read his mind the way robin does. It takes a moment, but then Eddie lets his eyes drink in Steves face again. His smile unfurling, sweet and pretty and different than before. He nods once, taking a drink. Looking away, cheekbones flushed pink. 

Steve can confess later. 

Robin comes barrelling down the hall calling out for Steve. But she skids to a halt when she sees Eddie. Then her eyes find Steve and she looks at him with raised eyebrows and barely contained glee bubbling under its surface. ‘Munson.’ She greets, eyes staying on Steve. ‘You’re late back on ‘Poltergeist.’

Eddie laughs, big and delighted. ‘Hey Buckley.’ He says. ‘Looking for your boy?’ but as he said that he’s gone back to the same position, still leaning on his hands, still looking right at Steve. 

Steve feels his cheeks heat. 

‘Ugh, not my boy. You are definitely not getting out your late fee for that.’ And she shoves him out of the way to get to Steve and grab his hand. ‘They want me to play beer pong, you’re on my team.’ And she’s pulling him up and away. 

Steve cranes his neck back to give Eddie a little wave goodbye but he’s pushing off the banister, he’s following. 

He walks slow, lazy, almost sauntering. Looking right at Steve still, with that little smirk. He knows. He knows. Steve feels the eucharist on his tongue. ‘What?’ Eddie asks, innocent but his smile isn’t. ‘I wanna watch.’ And Steve just squeezes Robins hand tighter, lets her pull him into the kitchen. 

11:45 January 3rd: Kitchen

People cheer as Steve neatly sinks the ping pong ball into the final cup, Robin nearly jumping onto his back she’s so exited. The first couple games with Robin and some of her random band friends really weren't great, he drank a few times, helped Robin get through her shares, they barely won. But by the third game he basically played alone and won pretty easily. The crowd seem entertained, cheering for him and random people kept patting him on the shoulder. it’s weird, a little stale on his skin to be congratulated like that, over something like this again. But he’ll be that guy again for one night, if just to make Robin smile. 

He downs a cup someone offers him in celebration. Accepting a couple high fives from Robins band friends. Tries to not be weird, to not show how the praise makes him itch. 

Steve lifts his wrist up to wipe at his mouth. His eyes drawn to the far side of the room. Eddie is leaning against the wall, black jacket against stark white. He claps slowly once, twice, his eyes shining with something. Like Steve is something funny, something interesting. 

Steve’s hands and feet tingle, his lips a little numb. Feels warm. Doesn't think about churches or blood or monsters. Just lifts his eyebrows, sucks some of the sticky beer from the pad of his thumb, and winks. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and rolls off the wall, disappearing into another room. 

But Steve saw his smile. 

˚♱₊✩‧₊⋆｡‧˚♱⋆₊✩‧₊

part 2 | ao3

written for Lex’s Spicy Six Winter Challenge! run by @thefreakandthehair and using the prompt: 'spiked eggnog'. ty for putting this on always!! sorry im posting on the last day again lol xoxo

title from 'stick season' by noah kahan (edited slightly to fit better)

@pearynice and @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx ty for the kind words and guidance getting me unstuck with this fic <3 its alive now

lmk if you would like a tag for part two :)

[ladykailitha]

Of Butterflies and Backstrokes Part 5

Hey guys!! Things are finally starting to move in this story, I'm not sure how much longer we have, but I just started Eddie's training, so whooo!!

In this we have Eddie being dumb, fixing it, and then apologizing properly! He can be taught!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

Robin smacked the back of Steve’s head as she walked past. “No staring. It’s creepy!”

Steve ducked his head and blushed. He had been caught staring so many times today that, yeah, it was starting to be a little creepy now. But in all fairness, Eddie was staring right back. A thought that sent Steve spiraling. But like in a ‘oh shit, that’s hot!’ way.

Which he really, really needed to tamp down on, because yes, the guy was eighteen, but like barely.

“You should just go talk to him,” Robin encouraged gently. Because for all her teasing, she knew how important it was for Steve to talk to him about his swimming.

Steve nodded. He had time until his next class. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. He walked up to Eddie and flashed him his patented Harrington smile.

“Hey, you’re Eddie, right?” he said warmly. “Robin tells me you like to swim on Saturdays, yeah?”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment. “Um, hi. Yup! That’s me. My mom used to call me her little fish.”

Steve grinned. He liked that. He wished his mom had taken that kind of interest in his swimming. “I saw you swimming when I was helping Joyce set up for the party last weekend and you were really good! Did you compete in high school?”

“Nah,” Eddie said with a shrug. “I wanted to, but I couldn’t get someone to take me that early in the morning so I stopped. Competed in middle school, though. I was decent enough, I guess.”

Steve was shocked. To have to stop just when you hit your stride must have been quite the blow.

“That fucking sucks, man,” Steve said with a grimace. He scratched his cheek thoughtfully. “You ever think about competing on the national level? Because I really think you could.”

Eddie rolled his eyes with a scoff. “Yeah, right. I couldn’t afford the coach let alone all the traveling I’d have to do to make it to meets. I’m going to have to pass on that one.”

“There’s actually a program here for people who can’t afford it,” Steve hedged. “Robin used it when we both first started out.” He was fighting back the urge to start biting his nails.

Eddie’s eyes narrowed and Steve gulped. “Is that so?” He nodded. “Well ain’t that nice. Still not interested.”

Steve wished the floor would swallow him or that pool would suddenly flood or that he’d get a brain aneurysm and die, right there on the spot. He pursed his lips together and nodded with his whole upper body. He turned on his heel and walked away.

When he was about to the other side of the pool, Eddie called out, “Who would even want to coach me?”

Steve turned around with a grin. “I would.” Then he spun on his toes and walked out of the pool area to the cool fresh air of the hallway.

~

Once Steve was out of the pool area and into the hall, he had a full on panic attack. He sank to the floor and held his head in his hands. Why the fuck did he offer to coach Eddie? He didn’t know Eddie, he was afraid of deep water, and he hadn’t even talked to Joyce yet.

It was a real mess now, but the words just forced themselves from him and now he wants to gobble them back up. Well maybe they’ll just avoid each other from now on. They had done a pretty good job up to this point, they could just continue as normal and forget all about how Steve made a fool of his himself.

Then slowly he began to come out of his panic attack to the sounds of soft words and the gentle rubbing of his wrists with their thumbs. His breathing evened, his heart rate dropped, and his eyes fluttered open.

The eyes looking back at him were warm chocolate brown and deeply concerned. The angel in front of him said something but Steve couldn’t hear. Then all at once all the sounds came rushing back into the hall. And suddenly there were more people in the hall with him than he thought. In addition to Eddie who was the one holding his hands, Robin and Joyce were there too.

“I think he’s coming around,” Joyce said gently as Steve’s eyes focused on her. “Hey, there, Steve. Are you okay now?”

Steve gulped, nodding. He was feeling better. In fact he didn’t have a pounding headache like he usually had after an episode. “My head doesn’t hurt.” He looked over at Robin in confusion. “Why doesn’t it hurt?”

“Uh...” Eddie said hesitantly. “I might have something to do with that. I used some calming techniques my friend’s dad showed me.”

Steve turned to him, mouth open in awe. “Oh. Thank you.” He didn’t know what to do with that because technically it was his conversation with Eddie which caused the panic attack in the first place. But maybe that’s why Eddie helped, because he knew he’d caused it. That was a nice thought, Steve supposed.

Eddie smiled and stood back up. “I have to get back to work. You take care of yourself, okay Stevie?”

Steve nodded and Eddie slapped his hands on his knees, standing up. He muttered goodbye to the two women and then wandered off.

As Robin helped him to his feet, she said dryly, “I take it the conversation didn’t go well.”

He barked out a laugh causing Joyce to look back and forth between them in confusion. So Steve put her out of her misery. “I was telling him that he was good enough of a swimmer to compete, but I think he thought I was mocking him or something, because he kinda blew me off.”

He rubbed his temples for a moment before adding. “I even offered to coach him.”

Joyce blinked at him for a moment. “You offered what now?”

When he looked up both Robin and Joyce were looking at him with large, wide eyes and slack jaws. “Yeah, that’s kinda what started the panic attack if I’m honest. I know I am like the worst person for the job with all my...” he waved his hand helplessly. Then he snapped his fingers. “Issues. Anyway. It was nice of him to help me out after all that.”

“Dingus...” Robin said with a heavy sigh. “What were you going to do if he accepted?”

Steve grimaced and ducked his head. “Have you help me?” He looked up at her through his eyelashes and batted them, pouting.

Robin pushed his shoulder. “Disgusting!” Then she gave him a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. “Of course I’d help you.”

“I think it would be perfect,” Joyce blurted out. They both turned and looked at her. “This place could use the publicity if I’m honest. There are other pools in Indy that have been bringing in the bigger names. So if Eddie accepts and starts training under five time gold medal champion Steve Harrington...”

“Then this place could start bringing in the big names again,” Robin said. “Not to say that Steve isn’t a big name of his own,” she added when Steve’s face twisted into something like offense.

Steve shook his head. “Which isn’t going to happen because he said no.”

Joyce and Robin sighed. There was that. But they knew they shouldn’t go trying to pressure Eddie into it. Plus, despite how good he was there was no telling he’d be on par or better than his younger peers.

Steve and Robin left Joyce standing there, pondering her dilemma.

~

Eddie chewed on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. He was grateful that the technique worked, but he was pretty sure that he had caused the attack in the first place. Which was... not good. He could have handled the offer to have him trained to compete a little better. Steve was paying him a compliment and he threw it back in his face as charity. He didn’t need charity not from no one.

There was no two ways about it. He was going to have to apologize. Which was never his strong suit. But he’d do it. He just wasn’t going to take Steve up on his offer. He would see about staying on here as paid help because then he could still have access to his beloved pool.

It took him a couple of days but finally their schedules matched up and Eddie was on his break and Steve had time between classes again.

“Um, hey,” he said timidly, sauntering up to Steve. “I just wanted to apologize for being a bitch on Monday. I was rude and that wasn’t fair.”

A slow smile spread out over Steve’s face. “Thanks. I did just spring it on you without an preamble, so...”

Eddie laughed. “Yeah, there was that. But it still was mean and I should have been nicer.”

“Well, you made up for it by helping me with the panic attack afterwards,” Steve said. “I’d say that makes us even.”

“A panic attack I’m pretty sure I caused.”

Steve winced, confirming the worst of Eddie’s suspicion on that one. Steve rubbed his chin thoughtful. “I’ll tell you what, if you teach Robin and Joyce that technique you used to pull me out of my panic attack, then we’ll be even.”

Eddie smiled that sweet closed mouth smile that melted Steve’s insides when he saw it. “Sure thing I can do that. On Saturday before the crew swim. I’ll teach them both.”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed. That was going to be so useful, having multiple people know how to get him out of an attack would make it easier for him to go out in public. Something that was very limited after the incident in Beijing.

“That’ll be great, thanks.”

“You should come too,” Eddie suggested. “I know you don’t like being in the pool, but you could come hang out and have a little fun for a change.”

Steve gasped dramatically. “What do you mean? Isn’t teaching beginning classes meant to be fun?”

Eddie’s eyes went wide. It took him two seconds long than it should have to realize that Steve was joking him. He pushed Steve’s shoulder playfully.

“At least with us,” he teased, “we won’t try and drown you, deliberately or otherwise.”

Steve tilted his head to side and looked at him in confusion. Where the urge to bite those cheeks came from, Eddie will deny knowing until his last breath. “I saw that snotty teenaged little shit try to pull you into the pool. That’s fucked up at hell.”

Steve’s smile was blinding. “Fair enough. I like getting to sleep in on Saturdays, but we’ll see.”

Eddie grinned back. “I never used to get up this early for school. But ya know, keeping out of jail is pretty inspiring.”

“I could see that, yeah,” Steve agreed. “It was the one downside being on the swim team in high school.”

“You went to a regular high school?” Eddie asked tilting his head. “I would have thought after getting fifth in your first Olympics you would have gone to a special school for kids that are huge in sports or whatever?”

Steve blinked at him for a moment. “Do they have schools like that?”

“They do for like actors and shit,” Eddie said with a shrug. “So I assumed they would have something similar for the jocks.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, no. That would have been preferable.” He shook his head. “But no, it’s much more cut throat that than that. Pretty much, schools try and poach students from other schools to make the best sports teams.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Wait, really?”

“Yep!” Steve said beaming at him. He looked up at the clock on the wall. “Look, my next class is about to start. So I really should get going. Especially with Joyce’s son in the class, I don’t want to be late.”

“Why is he starting so late?” Eddie asked. “I would have thought with Joyce being in charge of the rec center and his older brother literally being a trainer too, he would have been in the tots class.”

Steve nodded. “She didn’t get the manager position until five years ago and Will was afraid of the water by then. So they just waited until he was ready.”

“So he’s ready now?” Eddie asked curiously.

“Mhmm,” Steve hummed. “All his friends are going to be in the class with him, so he ready to hop in the pool with them.”

Eddie smiled. “That’s cute.”

That surprised a huff of laughter out him. “Sure is. But don’t tell him that. He’s at the age where cute is akin to baby and well...”

“He’s too old for that?” Eddie finished.

“Yeah.”

“I feel that,” Eddie agreed. “Have fun in your class, and remember you can always make it look like an accident.”

Steve laughed out right at that and waved goodbye. Eddie watched him go feeling better about the whole panic attack thing. Now all he had to do was make sure it never happened again. Or at least not by his own big fucking mouth.

~

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

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