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theharddeck · 8 months

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do you wanna make somethin' of it (Robert "Bob" Floyd x fem!reader)

pairing: bob floyd x fem!reader (no y/n)

synopsis: turns out, our favorite WSO has a side hustle, as quinn's favorite cowboy.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: 18+ explicit content, minors DNI: audio porn, a truly unhinged amount of dirty talk, overuse of pet names, bob's raging size kink, overstimulation via vibrators (and otherwise), unprotected PiV sex, an unrealistic number of orgasms, some dumbification, as can be expected.

A/N: this is way late bc i had to make sure the people who reblogged the moodboard were legal, thanks everyone for the patience and support! esp thank you @hangmanssunnies for being so encouraging, @sometimesanalice for being a gem and betaing thank you @laracrofted for coming up with bob's (ahem) inspirational reveal, and thank you everyone else for letting me be feral. there were a couple people who reblogged the moodboard but I couldn't tag them, so for the record, if you ask to be tagged, pls do make sure you're taggable AND ALSO THAT YOU HAVE YOUR AGE IN YOUR BIO I AM NOT KIDDING. the title is from Jo Dee Messina's 90s country bop, "Do You Wanna Make Something Of It" -- okay enjoy!

You paused, halfway into your flight suit, looking down at your phone.

It was probably a bad idea to open an audio erotica app forty minutes before you had to be in the debriefing room with the rest of the aviators in your unit.

But.

You were ovulating, your vibrator was charged, and you’d just gotten a notification that BullRiderRhett had posted a new audio.

Before you knew it, you were grabbing your headphones and folding your flight suit by the door, leaving your tank top and sports bra on, but shimmying out of your panties. You set an alarm on your phone, connected your headphones and opened the app.

Quickie During the Rodeo

After my ride, I don’t have much time before they call up the winners…but you look so damn good in that sundress. We have to be quick, though. [M4F] [Short Audio] [Established Relationship] [In Public] [Strong Language] [Moaning] [SFX]

Yeah, you thought to yourself, that’d do.

You slid into bed, pulling a muting blanket over the lower half of your body as you settled into your bed and clicked play.

Immediately, the sounds of a rodeo pushed through your headphones.

You heard the shuffle of hundreds of feet, a rowdy crowd cheering, and distant country music over a speaker. You could almost imagine the dusty air, the smell of fresh hay and sweat, and the clamor of barrel racing in another arena.

There was a steady clanking of spurs as a pair of boots walked towards you.

“There y’are,” a low voice said, the perfect combination of fond and gravelly. You heard a shuffle of fabric, and a soft inhale, like the cowboy was wrapping you in his arms. Your eyes fell closed so you could immerse yourself in the fantasy.

“How’s my girl doin’?” he asked, his voice muffled like he had buried his head in your shoulder.

You never responded verbally to these things; it broke the illusion to speak to an empty room, but you liked that Rhett paused, as if waiting for your answer.

“Ah, well, I always ride better when I know you’re in the stands, cheerin’ for me,” he said. He had such a fantastic voice, low and soft, with this drawl that was so unpretentious and alluring. His canvas jacket rustled like he was hugging you tighter.

“Just let me hold you for a sec, yeah?” he asked, as the ambient sounds of the rodeo seeped back in. You found yourself just listening for the sound of Rhett’s breathing over it, a slow and steady rhythm that was deeply centering.

You heard when his breath caught, followed by a shuffling sound and a choked gasp from the cowboy.

“Whoa, whoa,” Rhett’s voice was warm with surprise and delight. “Cut that out, darlin’, we can’t, they’re gonna call me back–”

His voice broke off on a low moan that had you biting your lip.

Why did guys in real life never moan?

It was such a pretty sound, deep and masculine, and full of desire. It was one of your favorite things about Rhett. Your hand slipped under the blanket, rubbing over your pussy gently, getting yourself used to the pressure.

“Darlin’,” Rhett’s voice had gotten deeper, like a warning. “Ya can’t tease me like that, ‘s not kind.”

Your hips shifted at that voice, and Rhett laughed, low.

“Y’just can’t help yourself, can you, sweet girl?”

It was your favorite pet name he used, just the way he said it. You were obsessed with the gravel in his voice, the melodic twang coupled with a gentleness that belied all his ruggedness. It was like he was being quiet to make sure no one overheard him, like his words were for your ears only.

His spurs clinked as the noise of the rodeo faded, as though he was leading you somewhere away from prying eyes. A second later, there was a gentle, wet sound, like he was kissing you.

How would he taste, you wondered. Would his lips be soft? Or would they be chapped? Would he be ravenous, turned on from the adrenaline of the ride, or would he be slow, savoring your taste?

You turned on your vibrator, on a low and warming setting. You traced it lightly over your pussy, acclimatizing, as Rhett’s voice and the soft vibrations sent a heat under your skin.

Rhett’s breathing was heavy, like being near you made him breathless.

“Shameless,” Rhett chided, amused and fond. “I know I can’t stop you, but I’m not about to let anyone see ya like this. You’re mine.”

Your hips canted up into the vibrator, spurred on by the idea of being his.

“Oh, you like that, huh, sweet girl?” Rhett practically purred, his voice like a caress, “You like being mine?”

Rhett’s words washing over you, and vibrator’s motions met less resistance as you felt yourself growing wet.

“What if I…” he asked, and you heard fabric shuffling, like he was reaching down and under your dress. “Fuck, darlin’, are you wet for me already?”

You pressed your lips together to trap in a whimper.

You knew it was formulaic, but that didn’t make you less turned on. In this fantasy, you were Rhett’s girlfriend, you were already wet for him, you were needy enough to risk being caught to have his dick inside of you.

“Ya sure about this?” Rhett asked, and you could hear the intensity in his voice. Like he needed you too, just as desperately. “Yeah? Yeah, me too…fuck—yeah, feel me through my jeans. Feel how hard I am for you.”

You turned the vibrator up, imagining the rough texture of denim against your pussy. How hard Rhett would be, how good it would feel to rock up against the dirty fabric. Probably not the most hygienic, but he’d be so hot, even through his jeans, impossibly tempting.

“Go on, take me out,” Rhett directed, his voice a low whisper.

He moaned in your ear as a belt buckle came undone, and your head fell back as you circled the vibrator over your clit. God, he sounded so good, he sounded unraveled. You imagined the weight of him in your hand, and you shifted your hips, wishing you could feel the heat of him.

“Shit, okay. We hafta be quick,” Rhett panted. “I know, I know, turn around for me, darlin’. Brace yourself against the wall here…Christ, you look so good like this…ya ready for me?”

You couldn’t help yourself; you slid a hand down your body, changing the angle of the vibrator so you could run a finger through your folds.

Rhett held his breath, like it was too good, too much, and you waited.

Then came his strangled, relieved exhale, and you pushed a finger into yourself as you imagined him sliding into you.

“That’s right, sweet girl,” Rhett praised, his voice breathless, awed. “Let me into that tight pussy, nice and easy...”

Your mouth fell open as you imagined him filling you.

Would he be thick? Long? Maybe a slight curve to his cock? Cut or uncut? You licked your lips, your mind spinning with possibilities, your fingers a paltry imitation of the thing you wanted so badly.

“Ah, that’s it, that’s it,” Rhett murmured, and you couldn’t help but add another finger. “Such a good girl, for me, aren’t ya?”

You wanted to be his good girl.

Rhett was breathing hard, and the rhythm of it was perfect. You circled around your clit with the vibrator, and you were panting now too, your hips canting up as you fucked yourself on your fingers. You could imagine him driving into you, his hips thrusting his cock into you. It would be thick, you decided, broad and heavy.

“Ah, you’re taking me so well,” Rhett grunted. “You were made to take this fat cock, weren’t you?”

His breaths were coming faster, and you could hear him slamming his hips into yours. You could imagine his balls swinging, could imagine him driving into you to reach that spot your fingers just couldn’t brush against.

“This pussy feels so good, darlin’,” Rhett whispered, “the way you’re clenchin’ around me…”

Your thighs fell farther apart as you tried to time your fingers’ thrusts to his cadence. He was grunting after each thrust, this beautiful soft sound of exertion and pleasure.

A faint cheer rose above the sounds of your panting; another event had concluded.

“Shit, we hafta hurry, they’re gonna–” Rhett broke off, his hips snapping faster. “C’mere, let me play with that clit, let me feel you–fuck yeah, clench around me, just like that.”

You turned the vibrator up, your fingers faltering inside of you at the increased vibration and his words. Rhett’s grunts were getting higher pitched, a delicate thread of need seeping into them and you were going to lose your mind; it was perfect.

“Ah, such a good girl,” Rhett groaned. “God, I don’t deserve you, ya feel so good…are you close, darlin? Tell me you’re close, I need to feel you cumming on my cock, will ya do that for me?”

You were bucking into your hand, chasing a release that had come on so fast, so strong and you were so damn close, you just needed–

“There ya go,” Rhett breathed, his voice tight. “You feel–oh, sweet girl, don’t stop clenching me like that. Oh, you’re gonna make me cum with that tight pussy, fuck, are you gonna come with me, darlin’? Please come with me, please…”

You pumped your fingers in time with his pleas, Rhett’s voice growing hoarse as his hips sped up. You were so close, he sounded so good, you were almost there.

“Feels so good…Ah, I’m coming, I’m there– ah, shit,” Rhett moaned, his voice choking, and you orgasmed along with him, collapsing back into the pillow.

Your legs shook and you jerked the vibrator away from your sensitive clit, stroking gently over your pussy with your other hand and easing yourself down.Your body felt like it was humming and you turned the vibrator off, sated and pleasure drunk.

Something about Rhett always had you timing it perfectly, feeling so in sync and so primed, and when he came, it was like your permission to.

Rhett was groaning softly in your ear.

“So beautiful, darlin’,” he whispered. “God, I’m so lucky, look at you…so damn beautiful…”

The audio would fade out in another few minutes and you fumbled for your phone to turn it off, and turn off the just-in-case alarm that you’d set.

There was a bittersweet moment with audio erotica that didn’t exist in traditional porn– aftercare. Instead of just ending a scene, most creators seemed to enjoy winding down with their listeners, saying soft things, silly things, fond things. It straddled the line between soothing and demoralizing, and you couldn’t say you loved the contrast between the care in Rhett’s voice and the emptiness around you.

An emptiness that was interrupted by a loud pounding on your door.

“Hey, I can see your light under the door,” Bradley called from the hallway, “you better not still be asleep! If we’re late to Mav’s briefing you know he’s gonna have us doing laps around the tarmac.”

You stuck your tongue out at the ceiling on principle, grateful for the quiet of your vibrator and the distance between the door and your bed.

“Calm your tits, Rooster,” you yelled back, “I’m practically ready.”

“Damn better be,” you heard Bradley say, loud enough to be heard, soft enough to know he wasn’t actually pressed.

You gave yourself another ten seconds to revel in that perfect orgasm, and then swung your legs over the side of the bed. You cleaned yourself off quickly, dressed even quicker, and were out the door in no time.

Some might even say, with a pep in your step.

“Told you,” you muttered as you walked by Bradley’s row in the debriefing room, on time, and he huffed.

You settled into your normal seat, waving good morning to Callie and lifting your chin at Mickey, who grinned back at you. Bob was in the seat next to yours, as you’d all agreed early on that WSOs had to stick together, and you bumped his shoulder with yours as you sat.

The sweet man smiled, a hidden thing, and looked away quickly.

Sometimes, you felt like you knew there was more to him than he let on.

You’d seen him in action, seen him make split-second decisions that kept him and Phoenix in the air. You’d seen him crank out 200 pushups with Jake and Javy like it was nothing. But at the same time, he never seemed to hold your eye for longer than strictly necessary, seeming more comfortable to address the floor (unless someone pushed too hard, and he’d snap something so sassy it’d make you bite the inside of your mouth to keep from laughing).

When you’d first met him, you’d thought he was cute, in an Old Hollywood leading man kind of way, soft muscles and deep eyes.

You’d wondered if maybe you made him nervous. You’d thought maybe there was interest in those ocean blue eyes, but time went on, and he remained sweet and polite and kind. He was the same to you as he was with everyone else, and you were led to the reality that he was just an incredibly decent person.

Crushes came and went like water, especially in a group as gorgeous as the one you flew with, so you let him have his secrets.

The lights clicked off as Maverick strode to the front of the room, already talking and clicking his way through some kind of demonstration.

The hours in the room flew by.

By the time he finished, your head was spinning with a blur of parameters and calculations and mission expectations. You knew pilots felt the same way about your job as you did about theirs, but you were always grateful that at the end of briefings you only had to worry about systems and odds, not about flying a plane. As you were dismissed, everyone crowded to the center aisle, trying to get out and to the hangar as quickly as possible. Someone sneezed, or someone pushed someone; Harvard dropped his coffee.

It wasn’t full, and you were all in flight suits anyways, but you still startled when it fell, splashing over the row you were sitting in. Black coffee flew over seats and notebooks (thankfully no phones), and someone laughed as Harvard’s attempts to catch it just served to further empty the cup. Bob took the worst of it, on the end of your row.

"Ah, shit," Bob muttered, and you froze.

It wasn't that Harvard's spilled coffee had ruined Bob's notes, and yours too.

It wasn't that everyone in the briefing room was looking back at your row in surprise.

It wasn't even that Bob had sworn, even though you'd never heard anything harsher than "gosh" from the WSO's lips.

It was that that cuss, in that voice, in that same mumbled tone, had pushed you to orgasm four hours ago.

“Alright, it’s just coffee,” Maverick called over the clamor. “We’re burning daylight, people, come on.”

Harvard was apologizing profusely, someone was passing paper towels out, but you felt completely out of your body, in shock.

Bob was BullRiderRhett.

The WSO who asked for ginger ale when everyone else did shots at the Hard Deck, who cleaned his glasses when he got nervous, who stayed up all night to help Payback’s kid put together a Lego Statue of Liberty last time he was in town …was the guy who had talked you through the last few months of orgasms.

(Yes, you had an annual subscription).

(Yes, you deserved it).

When you let yourself back into your room at the end of the night, it still felt surreal.

In retrospect, you should’ve been a million times more dialed in– you’d had a $73 million machine under your hands, and the only thing on your mind all day had been this revelation.

How had you never noticed before??

Now that you were thinking of it, Bob did have that slight accent when he was tired, or when he was mad enough at something stupid Jake said…but what were you even supposed to do with this knowledge?

You moved through your skincare much the same way you’d moved through most of the day – on autopilot.

A knock on your door startled you.

“Now’s not the time, Bradshaw,” you called, automatically.

“Uh,” called a too-familiar voice, “not Bradshaw.”

You winced at your reflection in the mirror, trying desperately to decide if you recognized Bob’s voice from countless drills or from your Favorites list. You crossed your arms across your chest, your sweatshirt dragging against the hem of your pajama shorts as you slouched over to the door.

“Robert,” you announced, as you opened it, mentally smacking your palm against your forehead. You had literally never called him Robert; what was wrong with you??

Could’ve been worse, you mused.

You could’ve said ‘Rhett’.

“Hey,” he said, and if he was thrown by the use of his full name, he didn’t show it.

He looked the same.

The same, but in the way that had made you catch your breath when you first met him, when you were relieved that he was so unassuming and kind, because if he’d been any kind of authoritative, it would’ve debilitated you.

Tonight, he’d clearly showered after drills.

His hair was freshly combed and still damp, darker than normal. A tendril fell in front of his glasses, leaving a small line of fog against the outer corner of one of the lenses. He was in a plain white tshirt and light sweatpants, and you made yourself stop from looking further because you were not about to objectify your friend just because you now knew that he could dirty talk with the best of them.

And now you were thinking about that.

“Are you mad at me?” Bob asked, and it snapped you out of your spiral.

He was frowning at the sill, his hands shoved in his pockets, and his chest tight. There was a purse in between his eyebrows, and you really could not understand him, because how could a man who was objectively gorgeous, subjectively sweet, be this adorable? He looked up and the moment your eyes met, you looked away.

“No,” you said quickly, clearing your throat. “Of course not. Obviously.”

“I mean, not obviously,” Bob said, rubbing a sneaker against the carpet in the hallway. “You practically sprinted out of the briefing this morning, refused to speak to me over comms during drills, and you won’t look at me for more than two seconds, and that’s normally someone else’s line to me.”

It was a weak joke, but it was funny, and you could hear in his voice that he was trying to set you at ease, and that really only made you feel worse.

So you stepped aside and held open the door, not really trusting yourself to say anything else. Bob looked nervous, and you wanted to tell him it was you, not him, but instead you waited in silence as he stepped into the room.

You only had the light over the sink on, and the room was in soft shadows, but you thought it might be more weird if you turned on a light, like you were calling attention to it. You shut the door and Navy rooms didn’t really come with guest furniture, so you gestured to the foot of your bed, while you paced.

“This is going to be awkward,” you warned him, glancing in his direction, and wishing you hadn’t.

He was sitting on the foot of your bed, as directed, legs spread slightly and his elbows resting on his knees. You could see the muscles of his shoulders through the tshirt, and his eyes seemed especially bright, in the dim light from the room.

“Okay,” Bob said easily, and you appreciated that he wasn’t rushing you. Maybe he was starting to understand that this was something you were working through, rather than something he had done.

You switched directions, walking the length of the room, and then the length again.

You had to say it.

You’d just have to say it, and that would explain it, and then it would be out, and then you could figure out how to move forward. Bob was a problem solver, like you, and you were both smart enough to figure this out. You were also both adults. You could just say it.

You stopped in front of him, and Bob sat up a little straighter, like he wanted to be sure he was being respectful to the weight of whatever you were saying. God, he was such a good person, why did you have to be such a creep.

“Iknowaboutbullriderrhett,” you said in a rush, clasping your hands in front of you. The words seemed to echo around the room and you stared at Bob, waiting for him to react.

He didn’t, not really.

He nodded, slowly, and you watched him process the day through the lens of your revelation.

“So, you’re disappointed it’s me,” he said, like he was clarifying, and you shook your head.

“What?” you asked, confused, and Bob shrugged.

“Like if you were expecting a ranch hand from Wyoming, I get it, it’s weird that it’s just me.”

You blinked. “That…that’s beside the point; I feel guilty, like this is a weird invasion of privacy, and isn’t that what you should be asking, anyways, is if I’m going to tell anybody? I won’t, but–”

Bob shook his head, his expression still pretty guarded. “Whose opinion do you think matters to me more than yours?”

And how the hell were you supposed to respond to that?

“What?” you managed again.

Bob looked at you.

It was maybe the longest uninterrupted eye contact you’d ever had, and you weren’t sure if it was because he initiated it, or if something was different. But it made you curious, it made you stop rambling, it made you be still, and let Bob look, because you liked how he was looking at you.

He smiled, that familiar, bashful, expression, and it calmed you slightly.

It wasn’t like there was a demon possessing your friend, it wasn’t a dark secret, it was just a part of him that he didn’t bring out at work. His smile reminded you that you knew him, that you trusted him.

Then his head fell to the side, his eyebrows lowering behind his glasses, his expression turning inquisitive as he said, “You didn’t answer my question.”

It was still Bob.

But his voice was lower, his voice was softer and you knew that voice, but seeing it fall from petal pink lips was a revelation and you shivered. You pulled the sleeves of your sweatshirt down over your palms, hoping you could disguise it, but Bob saw it anyway.

Of course he did.

He could calculate projectile trajectories while at supersonic speed; of course he could see when his voice made you shiver. The expression on his face turned smug, and that was new, that was nothing you’d seen before and you were pretty much infatuated with it immediately.

Objectively, Bob was the best.

You knew it, everyone knew it. This was maybe the first time you’d seen him look like he knew it, and something like pride blossomed in your chest at the thought that it was because of you.

“I’m not disappointed,” you said honestly, and Bob smiled fully.

That was how he should always be, you decided, proud of himself, pleased by you.

He pushed himself off the bed.

He walked towards you slowly, slow enough that you could tell he was giving you time to back away, or tell him to stop, but you sure as shit weren’t going to do either.

Instead, your head tilted back as he came to stop in front of you.

“We have two options,” he said, almost conversationally, like you weren’t this close to melting into a puddle at seeing this side of him. “One: I go back to my room; we’ve learned something new today, but we go on like normal. Or–”

“Or,” you chose, not waiting to hear what the second option was. “Whatever ‘or’ is, that’s the one I want.”

It truly didn’t matter; if the choice was him walking out the door or not, you wanted whatever made him stay.

He huffed an exhale of a laugh, a soft sound that you’d heard a dozen times but it still made your breath catch. You’d grinned fondly when you heard it over comms, after Callie calmly roasted Jake, you’d shivered when you heard it in your headphones, but now that Bob was physically in front of you, you thought this was the best iteration of it.

“What do you like?” he asked softly, and it felt like a loaded question.

Like maybe he was asking which audios, or maybe the themes, or if him, in front of you, was enough. The room felt suspended, like someone had paused the film of your life and you could see everything outside of yourself. The heat in Bob’s eyes, the way his fingers, held loose at his side, twitched slightly, like he wanted to reach for you. The way your own breath caught, like you were careful not to break a spell, like you wanted it to never break.

You kissed him.

You probably could’ve been more graceful about it, but he was standing just there, and you needed to know, needed to feel him against you. You reached for his arms, your hands grasping above his elbows to pull him down and press yourself closer.

He was so soft.

The moment your lips brushed over him, you felt him bending, moving. His glasses bumped into your nose as he adjusted and then his hands were on your waist, spreading over your back and how had you never noticed how big his hands were? They felt huge, and his chest was strong and warm as he pulled you into him.

You could smell his shampoo, something earthy and sweet, and it was intoxicating how pure it was. He didn’t feel pure. He felt hot, kissing you back with an urgency that stole your breath away. Bob kissed you with certainty, with earnestness, and you were obsessed.

You pulled back, staying in the cradle of his arms, needing to be this close when you answered the question he’d asked. Long lashes fluttered against the tops of his cheeks as you broke the kiss, and Bob pulled in a long breath through his nose. When he opened his eyes, the blue of them was so bright, cutting. You didn’t know how he held it all, his sharpness and softness, gentleness and intention.

“Can I show you?” you asked.

He blinked, the motion slow, as he looked between your eyes, trying to focus with you so close. You saw the corner of his mouth turn up in that bashful smile, and his arms around you tightened slightly.

“Show me,” he said, your question but now a command, and your mouth went dry.

His voice sent a flush of heat over your skin, and whatever he wanted, you’d say yes, for this man who was your friend and your fantasy, and asking you so nicely.

It amazed you how you didn’t feel nervous.

This was arguably the most intimate situation you’d found yourself in in a hot minute, but instead of nerves or anxiety, you could only think of how much you wanted Bob to see how much he affected you. From that first moment you’d met him, to the crush you’d packed away, to the voice that haunted your dreams, you wanted him. And you wanted to see how that would affect him.

You walked over to the sink, grabbing the vibrator from where you’d left it after you cleaned it this morning. Bob walked back over to the bed, taking up his original post at the foot of it, but his eyes never left you. He toed off his sneakers, and you slipped out of your pajama shorts, leaning over to arranging pillows against the headboard.

You climbed into the bed and rested your back against the pillows, nudging Bob’s thigh with your toes before you bent your knees. He turned himself to face you, his long legs unfolding outside of yours. It was like he was being careful not to touch you, and you liked that this was how it was going to start– just his voice and your pleasure. You hoped once he saw what a tight string was tied between the two, maybe he’d get a little more involved. A part of you wished that you’d deepened the kiss earlier, but it was just as well to have the anticipation of it.

It was ridiculous that you were already turned on.

You’d had eight hours to come to terms with the fact that Bob was Rhett, but as he sat across from you, it was like his gaze was scorching you. His bright eyes ran over you hungrily, and you rolled your neck, enjoying being the object of his gaze.

You’d been bold when you suggested it, but now the silence of the room seemed to stretch. You wondered if you should ask Bob to talk, or if that would be weird. Bob looked at you, his damp hair falling in front of his glasses again, and he brushed it aside absently.

“Is this where you lay, when you listen to me?” he asked, his eyes tracing over the simple bed, the regulation bedding, the pillows you’d brought in to spruce it up. His voice was low, curious, and now that you were listening for it, you could hear the traces of a drawl, hanging on the edges of it.

You nodded, unable to look away from him, and his nose flared slightly at the confirmation.

“You’re so pretty,” he said, and it washed over you. It was such a simple compliment, but the truth of how he said it, like every fiber of his being meant it, warmed you.

“God, thinking about you…” he trailed off, “just lying here, looking like this…getting off to my voice…do you touch yourself first? Pet that pussy before you use your toy?”

Your mouth actually fell open hearing Bob Floyd say ‘pussy’ so casually.

And he said it sitting in your bed, his eyes on you, his voice dropping into a deep drawl and yeah, you were going to do whatever he asked.

You shifted slightly, a hand falling between your thighs to press over your clothed cunt. You cupped yourself, loving the way Bob’s eyes followed your hand with rapt attention. The kiss, his words, his eyes…you weren’t wet yet, but you could feel your body warming, turning towards Bob.

“Love that you take your time with your pussy, warm her up, slow. ‘s not a thing you have to rush, not when the building feels so good. And I bet you feel so good, don’t you, so soft and warm…”

It didn’t feel slow, not with how hot Bob’s voice was. How good it felt to have him in the room with you, not just an empty echoing in your ears but physically here. You continued to tease yourself over your panties and you felt when they grew damp, when your arousal slowed your fingers, made the fabric slick.

“Fuck,” Bob breathed, and you whimpered.

The sound was involuntary, a reaction to seeing sweet, wholesome, Bob swearing over the sight of you. It made you feel regal, and if you had to guess, pulling sounds out of you made him feel the same. At the sound of your whimper, Bob’s eyes dropped to your mouth, and you watched the tip of his tongue push through his lips, as he wet them.

“Ah, you sound so good, too, I can’t believe–” he broke off, laughing quietly. “Can’t believe I’m jealous of my own damn self. How many times have I made you cum, and I’ve never gotten to see it?”

It was your turn to laugh, not quite willing to reveal how much you listened to BullRiderRhett.

“That many, huh?” Bob’s voice was smug, and it was such a good sound on him. You ground your wrist over your clit, pressing into the hard bone, craving the friction.

“Take your panties off,” he said, “touch yourself, not the vibrator yet.”

You followed his instruction, pulling up your legs to peel off your panties and resettling. You extended a leg down the bed, pressing inside of Bob’s long leg, as you trailed your hand between your thighs. At the first brush of skin against your sensitive folds, your head tipped back against the headboard.

It was just your hand, but with Bob here, it felt like it was almost his. It was his bidding at least, and you explored yourself leisurely, dragging your fingers through your wetness.

“Yeah, that’s right, bet you feel so good,” Bob said, his voice so low. “Feel yourself, sweet girl, tell me how it feels.”

You gasped, your hips rising in a pavlovian response to the endearment. It was somehow even more overwhelming when it was Bob who spoke it over you, here, in the flesh. When he could see that your skin prickled, that your breath caught, in response to him.

“Say it again,” you whispered, hoping he’d understand, and when you looked back at him, the expression on his face was one of adoration and hunger, awe and need.

“Sweet girl?” he asked gently, but his eyes were so dark. “You like being that for me, don’t you? My sweet, sweet girl.”

You nodded weakly, your fingers suddenly not enough. You rubbed over your clit, trying to stop the truth from spilling out of you as heat fanned out through your body from your touch.

“Yours,” you corrected weakly, and you scrambled for the vibrator and switched it on, using the intense humming of the toy as an excuse to hide from Bob’s reaction to your admission.

You felt one of his hands wrap around your ankle, and his long thumb stroked from your heel up to the joint. It was the perfect touch, and just grounding enough to keep you from being overwhelmed by the vibrations.

“You sound so pretty,” Bob murmured, “those little whimpers you make, fuck.”

Were you whimpering?

You felt like you noticed everything a bit too late, too loud. You realized you were pulling the vibrator over your cunt in a mimicry of the strumming motion Bob’s thumb was tracing on your ankle, and your hips canted up. Pleasure swirled in you, hot and tingling, but you felt something missing.

“Bob,” you panted, god, how were you already panting, “I need–”

You turned the toy higher and broke off, writhing.

“Darlin’, love you saying my name like this,” Bob drawled, and it was a proper drawl now, and how he said darlin’ made you feel like you might combust. “Can’t believe I get to see you like this, you look so good…knowing this isn’t your first time working yourself to my voice, makes me so damn jealous.”

You whined, pressing the vibrator more firmly against your skin, your hips starting to grind into it.

“Tell me,” you asked, your voice reedy, and Bob huffed a laugh, like you didn’t even have to ask. He ran a hand over his thigh, coming to rest at the seat of his sweatpants and you bit your lip as he adjusted himself through the thin fabric.

“So damn jealous,” he repeated, “thinking how many orgasms I’ve missed. How many times you came when I asked, how those thighs would tremble as you fucked yourself thinking of taking me…fuck, honey, you’ve heard me cum, and I’ve never–”

A moan pushed its way past your lips, as you realized that the groans and grunts and needy noises that you got off to weren’t incorporeal: they belonged to Bob.

You looked down at the foot of the bed where Bob was watching you greedily. His eyes roamed over your spread legs, the twitches in your thighs, the slackness in your jaw, and you looked at him too. His pale skin was flushed, color in pink splotches high on his cheeks, and his lips were parted. His chest rose and fell as he drew in deep breaths, and when he shifted slightly, you moaned again.

“Can you touch yourself?” you asked, almost shy, wanting to see him. You felt good, so insanely good, but the thing you’d always loved about the Rhett audios was how much pleasure it sounded like he was getting too. There was something so hot about knowing you were the root of someone else’s desire and pleasure, and you wanted so badly to be that for Bob.

“You’re gonna have to wait just a little longer, sweet girl,” Bob said, but he ran a hand over the thigh of his sweatpants, adjusting himself again, and your hips bucked up of their own volition. You guessed he was wearing underwear under his sweatpants because you couldn’t see an outline, but the idea of his dick hanging that far down his thigh had your mouth watering.

“Wanna see you,” you protested, hearing a sound like a pout in your voice and Bob’s hand on your ankle tightened. He looked at you hard, and you knew he was gambling, trying to decide if he wanted to play a card.

“I know, sweet girl,” he said, licking his lips, “but you have to earn my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back and your core clenched at those words. How many times had you heard Rhett tease you with that? But it was different now, because Bob was here. Because he was real, and his cock was real, and however many times you’d wondered about Rhett, your curiosity could be sated in Bob.

When you lifted your head to look back at Bob, he was slackjawed, watching you writhe. You were practically humping the toy, chasing an orgasm that suddenly felt so much closer. The vibrator felt stronger than normal, or maybe you were more sensitive, but you felt your climax building, and your thighs started shaking.

“I wanna see you,” you repeated, and it sounded pathetic, but it was true, you did. In a moment, this had switched from getting off in front of your friend to needing your friend’s dick, and you didn’t know how Bob knew it but he did.

He readjusted his grip on your ankle and before you could react he pulled.

You slid down the bed, your thighs parting around where he now kneeled; he braced himself over you, and you whined, needing his touch. He kissed you, his mouth wide and plundering, slanting his lips over yours. You moaned into his kiss, so different from the soft gentleness of your first embrace. This was Bob kissing you, and his tongue delved into your mouth and you opened for him.

“I’m too greedy for that, sweet girl,” he whispered, his lips against yours. “I know if I get between these thighs I’m going to lose myself, and I want to see how much you want it. I wanna be here, fully here, the first time I get to see you cum.”

He reached down, and you felt his hand trace over yours. You’d nearly dropped the vibrator when he pulled you down the bed, but now Bob tightened your grip, and guided it back to your cunt. You keened as the vibrator pushed between your folds, and Bob followed your lead, wanting to see how you fucked yourself for him.

It was better with him.

His strong hand bracketing yours, his other at the back of your neck, holding you steady. His hand was on yours but he brought his face close to yours again, and you drank in the reality that he was here, this close, holding you. His breath was hot against your skin, and his glasses were fogging up from how hard you were breathing.

“So are you gonna let me see it, darlin’?” he asked against your skin, and that voice, coupled with his touch, nearly had you there. “You gonna come for me, let me see what it looks like when my sweet girl gets off with just my voice and the toy we’re using on her? You’re almost there, honey, I can see it, come for me come on now–”

He sounded so good.

His voice was perfect and soothing and it felt like a dream but it wasn’t, it was real. He was holding you, feeling you, breathing the same air and working you. You’d never been so aware of your body and how it was tuned towards someone else. You cried out his name as you came, your back arching and your free hand fisting in Bob’s tshirt, reminding yourself he was there, he was there, he was there.

You felt like you were floating.

Pleasure coursed through your body and you could feel it pulsing in your fingertips, beating in your heart. You became slowly aware of the room around you. The air felt cold against your sweat-dampened skin, the hum of the refrigerator was the only noise other than your hard breathing. Bob was still over you, and he’d pulled the vibrator away from you, switching it off without really looking, running a soothing hand over your hip. The hand at the back of your neck was firm, holding you tightly so you could feel him.

“How’re ya doing, sweet girl?” he asked softly, and you felt him press a kiss to your cheek. “Did that feel good?“

You hummed in agreement, words still beyond you. His voice was so gentle, but had a raspy edge, like he was thinking over the last several minutes, holding them in his mind.

“You did such a good job for me,” he murmured, and you turned into his touch.

He was like sunshine, wasn’t he?

Just warm, and good, and you wanted to bask in him and his light like a dryad. His eyes darted away once he realized you were looking at him, and it made your heart skip a beat, that he could somehow be shy after coaxing you through one of the hottest orgasms of your life.

You were trying to think of how to say “your turn” in a way that wasn’t corny or cringey, but what you came up with was, “Can we keep going?”

Bob’s eyes snapped back to yours, and the world seemed to pause for a moment, hovering. Waiting, hoping, and Bob’s chin dipped, just slightly, and all was right.

“Baby,” he said, in the low, perfect, voice, “I’d like nothing more.”

When he kissed you, you were both smiling, somewhat giddy, and any nerves that had gathered during that pause dissipated, as you kissed his smile-thinned lips.

You shifted slightly, pushing yourself back up the bed and pulling Bob with you.

He moved easily, his long body spanning over yours, pressing you back into the mattress with the most delicious pressure. His hands were wandering, then, delicate fingers tracing over your sweatshirt, and when he lingered at the hem of it, you pushed him off. You didn’t want to be patient, didn’t want his chivalry, and so you pulled your sweatshirt over your head before you had time to second guess yourself.

The way Bob looked at you, you wished you’d done it sooner.

His tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip as he stared at your chest and you pushed yourself off the bed by your shoulders, so you could reach behind you and undo your bra. The moment the garment fell off, Bob’s hands were on you, his wide palms cupping your breasts. Your eyes fluttered shut at his touch, humming in the back of your throat as his fingers explored you. You felt the bed shift as he moved, and you gasped when a warm breath ghosted over your bared skin.

Bob kissed down from your sternum, wet kisses over you, and by the time he reached your nipples, he was practically lapping at your skin. You whimpered as his mouth closed over your nipples, his tongue swirling over you as his hand teased your other breast. When he hummed, you felt it all over, the soft vibration over your skin.

“Bob,” you gasped, and he moaned.

“Ya sound so pretty,” he whispered into your skin, “somehow better than I imagined.”

Your breath caught as his mouth moved to the valley between your breasts, and he laved the same attention to the other. He couldn’t have meant that how it sounded. As incomprehensible that this was happening, it was wilder still to think that he had imagined this, as you had.

“You thought of me?” you asked, your own voice sounding nearly breathless.

“Honey,” teeth grazed over your nipple, and Bob chuckled, that beautiful low laugh. “Who do you think I’m talkin’ to when I make those audios?”

His lips closed over you again, but the swirling of his tongue wasn’t enough to distract from the words he’d just uttered.

He wasn’t done, either.

“Y’know how many nights I’d wondered about the taste of your skin,” he murmured into it, “or what your tits would feel like in my hands? What sounds you’d make when I kissed you, how soft you’d be, everywhere? If you’d cry, or moan, or laugh when you came, or how you’d say my name…”

Your hand wound back into his hair and you pulled him back up to your mouth. This kiss was desperate, so much unsaid between the both of you. So much longing, so much wondering and now it was here. You couldn’t explore each other fast enough, and you were clawing at his clothing, trying to feel as much of his skin as possible. Bob was just as eager as you were, pulling off of you to shuck off his tshirt and sweatpants, and you reached for his glasses.

He blinked at you slowly as you pulled them off of him.

This sweet man.

He was so focused on you, his eyes so intent even as he struggled to focus, and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. You leaned over to place them carefully on your nightstand, and when you came back to the bed, Bob’s arms settled around you in the most comforting embrace.

You loved the feeling of his skin.

He was so soft, pale skin covering deceptively strong muscles, and you were obsessed with the dichotomy. Your hands greedily traversed over his broad shoulders, thick biceps, taut stomach, and when you got to the hem of his boxers, you felt his breath catch as he shifted over you.

Fuck.

You’d thought it might’ve been a trick of the light, or a trick of sweatpants, some kind of trick, but under your hand, Bob felt hung. Your fingers rubbed over the bulge in his boxers, and Bob’s head dropped to your shoulders.

“We don’t have to–” he started, and broke off when your touch reached the end of him. You were just tracing the shape of him, but your breath caught when you felt his fat head, the cleft at his tip, even through the thin fabric.

“We do,” you said, swallowing quickly, not even trying to hide the way your thoughts were racing, “I really hope you have a condom, Floyd, because we really, really have to.”

He huffed, and then he pressed a kiss to your shoulder, pushing himself off you and reaching down to feel around the ground for his sweatpants. You loved that he had a condom on him – not because it meant that he was expecting this, but because it just confirmed for you that Bob was the type to look at birth control as shared responsibility, not just a matter of whether a gal took the pill or felt like risking going without. He fumbled for a moment, and you couldn’t help yourself.

While he was distracted (admittedly, this was probably a task you could have thought of while he still had his glasses on) you leaned over and traced your tongue over his collarbone. He smelled so good, and you could just taste the salt of his sweat. Bob’s breath grew ragged, and you loved the sound of it, kissing up his neck and finding that tempting spot where you could feel his pulse. You loved how frantic it was, loved the steadiness of him.

He found the condom.

You shifted back to your elbow, watching with blatant interest as he shoved his boxers down his thighs, tore the wrapper open and rolled the condom onto his dick.

Holy. Shit.

He looked like a work of art.

A beautiful flush had worked its way across his chest and throat, the tendons on his arms and hands stood out in stark contrast, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his cock. He really was that big.

“What is it?” he asked quietly, and your eyes darted back up to his face to find his brows furrowing slightly, since he couldn’t read your silence or your expression.

You pushed yourself up to kneeling on the edge of the bed, Bob still standing beside it, and reached for him. He stepped into your embrace easily, mollified by the shared warmth between your bodies, as you reassured him with soft kisses wherever you could reach.

“I thought it was a line,” you admitted, somewhat embarrassed at how wantonly you’d just been staring at him. “Just a cliche ‘oh, you want to choke on this big dick’, but…but you’re actually, you know…”

Bob smiled, somehow bashful, as you pitched your voice lower in an approximation of Rhett’s drawl.

“Is that an offer?” he asked, and oh you liked this side of him– teasing, relaxed, a little cocky.

And the thought of choking on him…it was a really great fantasy. He’d hurt your jaw something fierce, but you wanted to see if you could draw those breathy whimpers out of him. Figure out what your tongue could do to him, see how much he could take, push him a little further, and make him cum down your throat.

“Honestly,” you said, and yeah, your throat was dry just from the thought of it, “I really want to try that, sometime.”

At your tone or your words, you couldn’t be sure, Bob’s hips pushed forward slightly. With the height difference of you kneeling and him standing, his cock brushed against your ribs. You were both suddenly so aware of him, his thick cock resting between you, and Bob’s hips pushed forward again.

“You’re so soft,” he murmured, and his hips slid back, slowly. His hands were on your waist, holding you still as he ground against you. Your mouth fell open at the heavy motion, the promise of it, and the duration of it.

“You’re so big,” you whispered, another truth that should’ve sounded like a cliche, but instead was just a fact.

“You’ll fit me,” Bob said, with such confidence and certainty that suddenly you didn’t care if it was in your mouth or between your legs, you needed him in you.

“Please,” you asked, and Bob groaned, actually groaned, like you asking was the best thing he’d ever heard. His hands were so tight on your waist, like he needed that control and you knew how you wanted him.

You leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips, and then turned back to the bed, your hand sliding up towards the headboard, your ass lifting like an invitation. Bob wasted no time, climbing back over the bed and shifting you so you were lengthwise on the bed again, and then draping his long body over yours. Your head rolled between your shoulders; he felt so good. Warm and strong, and all around you, and then you felt his big hand between your thighs. He opened your thighs gently, and then a thick finger traced between them.

“So wet,” he murmured, so close to your ear, and you shivered. “You’re gonna feel so good around me, aren’t you?”

You nodded, words failing you in your anticipation. But Bob wasn’t in a rush. His calloused finger teased through your folds, smearing the remnants of your orgasm up over your clit, playing with your cunt, until you were shaking.

You whimpered, your arms trembling as you braced yourself on the bed. You pushed your hips back into his touch, and you felt Bob’s breath shutter from his chest pressed to your back, but he didn’t move any faster.

“Don’t rush me, honey,” Bob said, his voice low, and you tried to hold still, you did, but his teasing was too much.

He alternated between spreading your folds, circling your clit, dipping his finger into you just enough to tease you, then pulling back entirely. You felt like you were aching, desperate for him, needing him. Bob spread you open with one hand, and you felt his thick head at your entrance, seeking. You saw the hand that wasn’t playing with your clit drop down to the bed beside yours as he braced himself, and you pushed your hips back, weakly.

“Ask me nicely, sweet girl,” he said, his voice so low, and you swear you nearly came on the spot.

“Please,” you managed, your voice sounding entirely too weak, “please, please, I need to feel you–”

You broke off when he pushed into you.

A steady, overwhelming pressure as that beautiful, enormous cock pushed into you. Your back arched and you gripped the sheets as he stretched you out, the gentle, even pressure nearly blinding. He was so thick, you felt like you could feel his heartbeat, like you’d been lit on fire, and the only thing you knew you needed was more, more.

Your head dropped to the sheets, even as your hips worked weakly back into his, welcoming him despite the burn.

Bob’s hand covered yours, his thick fingers tangling with yours on the bedsheets, and you felt cherished, you felt wrecked, you felt perfect.

Fuck, he felt so good.

You were full to the point of overwhelmed, and you realized he’d stopped pushing, was fully seated inside you. You felt so connected, so whole, even though you were heaving like you’d run a marathon.

Bob‘s nose traced your cheek, his soft lips kissed your jaw as his breath tickled your ear. “Does that feel good, darlin?” he asked.

You nodded, wordless, it felt like a dream come true. You felt every inch of him in you, every inch of him over you, and it was perfect.

“So,” Bob whispered, his teeth grazing the shell of your ear, “what do you say?”

“Thank you,” you moaned, you’d never been so grateful for anything in your life. “Feels so good, fuck, thank you–”

Bob groaned, and his hips pulled back before he slammed back into you. His thrust would’ve pushed you up the bed, except for his body over yours, holding you steady.

“Sweet girl, it’s like you don’t want this to last long,” he said, almost angry, and the sound of his voice had your eyes rolling back in your head. He sounded so good, he felt so good, he was so perfect, you were so full… “Like you’re trying to drive me mad with this tight cunt, with those sweet little whimpers, you feel so good, baby.”

You couldn’t do anything.

You were a molten mess of heat and driving need, your body aching and craving and sated by the thick cock pressing inside of you. Bob was thrusting so deep into you, his fat cock head prodding against a spot you distantly registered wasn’t made up, but might’ve been, for how perfectly he was hitting it. You weren’t aware if you were making sounds or just lying there, all you knew was how fucking good he felt in you, how you needed him to never stop.

“Feel so full,” you gasped, and Bob pushed into you again.

“Damn right,” Bob muttered, his voice dark, “full of my dick, like you’re fucking meant to be. Gorgeous girl, bent over, taking my cock like you need it.”

You whimpered, clenching around him. “I do, I do,” you babbled, “need you.”

Bob moaned, and it might’ve been the prettiest sound you’d ever heard. How was he real? How could he be this good, this kind, this fucking hot??

The sounds in the room were dizzying.

Bob’s hips slapping into your ass, the squelching sounds where you were joined, your gasps and his breathy grunts. It was perfect, and you felt the heat around you condensing in your core.

He knew, somehow.

The fingers that had been spreading you for his cock, moved to the top of your cunt, teasing over your clit. Your legs jerked, your mouth dropping open as Bob circled your clit, his fingers tracing over it, gently pinching it and coaxing you higher.

“I’m gonna cum,” you panted, heat and need rising.

“Christ, please,” Bob said, his voice so earnest, so dear, as you pushed back into him. “Let me feel it, sweet girl, let me feel this pussy I’ve been dreaming about. Want to feel you milking my cock, so damn good, you can do it, come on…”

He pumped into you once, twice, and you shattered. Your legs gave out, shaking, and then Bob’s hands were on your waist again, holding you up. You moaned his name, trembling and lost, and he held you, ever steady. He kept working into you, his thick cock pressing into you, like he was the only thing tethering you to this pane, and you felt drunk off of him.

“There it was, that was beautiful…fuck, you’re so hot, that feels so damn good. You sounded so gorgeous, sweet girl, you did so well…”

You moaned as his words coaxed you back.

He was still pumping into you, that steady, punishing pace and you were so sensitive but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He felt so strong, so hot, so close to you and you needed it. Needed him. His thick arms cording around you, his strong grip digging into your hips, his fat cock stuffing you, you never wanted it to stop.

“You’re so good,” you whispered, needing him to know. Not just how he felt, or how he sounded, but who he was. How he was, and how much he meant.

Bob’s hips stuttered.

You were aching, you were spent, but you tightened your core and clenched around him.

“Baby,” he groaned, “I’m close you can’t–”

You rolled your hips.

Bob grunted, and then he was moving, faster than lightning. He swept your hands out, pushing you down by your shoulders into the mattress, his body draping over yours. You turned your head to the side, and like he knew, he was there, kissing you.

It was sloppy, it was messy, but your lips and tongue tangled together, like you both needed the sweetness of a kiss to balance the savage way Bob’s hips were fucking into you.

Each press of his hips ground your pussy into the mattress and the pressure was so fucking unreal. You moaned into him, and Bob seemed drunk off the sound, off of you. You were so overstimulated, so out of your body that pleasure was the only thing that made sense. Only the way his hips rubbed your clit into the mattress, only the way his cock was stroking into the deep part of you, only the way he was panting against your lips.

“You’re everything,” Bob whispered, just a breath away. “So much better, so much – fuck, you feel too good. Will you come for me again, sweet girl? I want to feel it so bad, need another one from you, can you do that for me?”

You shook your head, wrung out, but you felt it building anyways. Fuck, how was that possible? But Bob’s thrusts, the pressure on your clit, the weight of his warm body, the need in his eyes, it was driving you higher.

And then.

And then he got close.

He broke off from the kiss, his thrusts growing almost frantic. Each breath he drew ended on a gasp, a soft whine that reached deep into your gut and set off something primal. He was fucking into you but he was whimpering, and you knew he needed it, needed you, like he said. He moaned, a needy, beautiful sound, and before you could feel his orgasm, yours broke over you.

You collapsed into the mattress, Bob covering you, and you distantly heard him getting louder as your thighs shook. He sounded so pretty, those sweet moans and the desperate gasps driving you mad. The world was just molten heat, desperate thrusts, echoes of whimpers and you faded into the vacuity of it.

When you came back, you were on your side.

You were drenched in sweat, you both were, and a sheet was covering you from the cool room. Bob had taken off the condom, you noticed absently, and had pulled your sheet up over both of you, tucking you into his chest. His arms were warm around you, and when you exhaled, you watched the blond hairs on his forearms blow back and forth.

“How’re you doing?” Bob asked softly, and you could weep. It was him, so familiar, so gentle, and so much better than any recording, any fantasy, anything. Your arm swung halfheartedly in his direction.

“You jerk,” you sighed, “you’ve ruined my subscription.” Bob chuckled, the bed shaking with his deep laugh. “Think you can content yourself with the real thing?”

You shifted, turning to face him. In the dim light of the room, he somehow still managed to look like an angel. His soft eyes were unfocused, his mussed hair was snarled from your fingers, and he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

You leaned over to kiss him, Bob’s lips already thinning on a smile. “I think I can manage,” you said.

tagging: @withahappyrefrain @cheekymcgrath @mxgyver @lewmagoo @sebsxphia @callsign-fangirl @callsignspark @sometimesanalice @daggerspare-standingby @rhettabbotts @teacupsandtopgun @attapullman @yuckosworld @skteaiy @yanna-banana @briseisgone @gigisimsonmars @milesmillergf @katiedid-3 @hangmandruigandmav @3tabbiesandalab @marchingicenotes7 @callsignmedusa @ryebecca @tgmavericklover @cottagecori @becks-things @sorchathered @mulletmcghee @straightforwardly @high-speed-r @rcmupout @purelyfiction @fairyheart @sunsetsimpsblog @angelbabyyy99 @cremebruleequeen @marvel-djarin @sgt-barnesveins @supernaturaldawning @echo-ethe @sunlitide @alilstressyandlotdepressy @hughesvolpe @aczhang777 @saltsicklover

chances are high i'll do a part 2/followup with both of them recording an 'overheard' audio...let me know! comments and reblogs are the surest way to make that happen 💙

#bob fucks #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd smut #robert bob floyd #misskielwrites #International Bob Floyd Fucks Month

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grabattheseballsss · 5 months

Text

Ass or tits post but they barely answer the question

NSFW text !!!

Btw if yawll have any headcannon ideas do send them in pls !!! Smooches !!

John price

this is absurd, to think you would ask him such a disrespectful question, I mean if you weren’t dating this is a huge HR violation, plus he won’t just pick like you’re some object he gets to use to his pleasure (thighs and fupas)

Simon Riley

Ass…. No wait he likes tits

Actually he likes ass… but maybe more so the thighs… nah nah it’s just ass … actually here, go wear these outfits and come back to me, I need to make my mind up for sure, you know, for research purposes.

John McTavish

Couldn’t choose, had to go run a few laps to clear his brain

Came back and just held your shoulders and said

“Yes”

You’d be confused and ask him the question again and he’d just look at you with sad eyes and whimper out

“Please don’t make me chose”

Kyle Garrick

Tits, absolutely tits, this man has a thing for milfs, my darlings with big or small tits, if he sees you in a blouse or a tank top that shows your cleavage, he’s running the nearest bathroom to relieve himself.

You had to go undercover on a mission once, having to dress up as a server at a strip club, you needed to have ears on the inside, and he had to save all the footage he was watching… for safety purposes of course, what if he didn’t notice a very illegal bad thing happen to you on his 89th rewatch ?!

Rodolfo parra

Tits, but also into necks, he also loves your back, and the curve of your hips, and how your rolls show when he has you in a weird position, and he loves watching you change or slip into your everyday clothes, how some tights fabrics tug at your pretty plush skin, he loves it when you lay your feet on his lap, silently asking him to rub them for you, watching you stretch, watching you walk, how you interact with others …

Wait sorry what was the question ?

Alejandro Vargas

This whore…. Ass.

He’d slap your ass ever time you’re walking by, if you’re leaning on a counter, on your phone, he would stand behind you and slap your ass bongos, laughing and kissing your temple as you try to smack him.

If he sees you sleeping on your side he will crawl lower and cuddle your ass, it’s just such a nice cushion :(

One time the team all went out for drinks after a successful mission, and you changed into a white tank top, low cut bell bottom jeans and Rudy handed you a cowboy hat as a joke, but all Alejandro could think about is which bathroom is the closest for him to take you.

Also steals your panties after every quickie

Valeria

See….. here’s the thing, Valeria loves one thing, and that thing is seeing you all submissive and ready for her to take, she loves sitting in a meeting with some dealers, her legs spread, you by her feet, hugging onto the lower part of her legs, humping on her dirty boot, your tits pressed against her knee as your clothed pussy rubs in messy motions as you try to get some sort of release, she loves holding a gun to your head, asking you to only make eye contact with her, in a room filled with judging eyes.

She needs everyone to know what’s hers, and what would happen if they even dared to speak of what’s hers.

König

Listen, I see könig as a little weirdo, a lil freaky boy. When he’s infatuated with someone, he won’t be able to find a single flaw in them, seeing your skirt riding up at bit too high that shows your ass that’s covered in opaque stockings, and if there’s a little rip in those stockings, even if the rip is like, down near your ankle, he’s gonna pop a boner.

If you’re a fashion girly that likes to show their body off oh baby he’s buying you anything you want if you just give him a show, tops that barely hide your nipples, about 90% of your tits out on display, one slip and you’ll be flashing him.

Seeing you in his clothes, seeing his hoodie bunched up around around waist as you hold it up a bit, fixing your pants, oh he’s going to jump that hoodie later.

Horangi

Tits, or so he thought, he’s always found your chest gorgeous, what he wouldn’t give to be able to suck on your nipples day and night, that is until you were sparring one time, you had him in a chokehold… with your thoughts pressed against his neck, his head resting on your lap as you look down at him, animalistic fire in them as you grin down at him, all he could think about was how your eyes gazed down on his, how the pressure of your thick thighs pressed against his neck felt like heaven, like the pain in his neck was cured (it wasn’t)

After the sparring match he just had to collect his thoughts, he needed you to be on top of him, preferably with your crotch right on top of his face with your soft sweaty thighs caging him in .

Laswell

This lady……… she’s the hard dom price wishes he was.

She’s so calm and collected on the outside, at her work everyone sees her as this no nonsense lady who refuses to listen to some old fart tell her what she can and can’t do, she’ll always do what’s right

And so when her pretty girl, in a gorgeous dress she got for you, comes to her job, holding a tiny bag filled with her lunch, hair done, makeup looking flawless, and a bright smile that makes her coworkers envy her.

She loves her sweet girl that’s too innocent to notice how promiscuous she looks in that form fitting dress, how her tits press together when she hands her the bag, Kate would simply thank you, kissing you briefly before giving your bum a smack as she tells you to get back home and get ready for her tonight

What? The woman is stressed at work and her girl comes in looking like a goddess in a tight dress, plus it’s not like any of her coworkers blame her.

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changisworld · 3 months

Text

A helping hand

Felix x f!reader

Word count:6,227

Summary: Felix is addicted to masterbating & also sex. But despite his addictions, he hasn’t got laid in over a year & has to use his hand but he has now gotten bored with it. He has tried different toys, DIY tricks etc but it’s just not the same, so he caves in one night & signs up to one of the “single ladies in your area” adverts out of complete desperation after clicking on it by accident. not thinking in case he gets a million more porn viruses, but he ends up talking to someone he thinks is even more attractive than him, you.

->Authors note at bottom!

18+ MDNI, SMUT WARNINGS BELOW THE CUT.

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post.

main masterlist here

SMUT WARNINGS: NEEEEDDDDYYY felix, felix cums a LOT& i mean a LOT, multiple orgasms(both rec), switch reader, switch felix, spit, oral (both rec), 69, facesitting, ball sucking, slliiiiggghhhtttt anal play(felix rec), body worship, squirting, hair pulling, very brief masterbating, slight overstimulation, cum eating, creampie, tiniest bit of dirty talk, praise, finger sucking, aftercare is mostly off screen! 90% smut 10% plot (sorry nawt sorry)

Felix has been scrolling through pornhub & also twitter for hours. He has gotten two hundred pages down into pornhub & can't help but grumble to himself, his cock red & angry now resting on his lower stomach, a few, small ropes of cum spread across his abs & for him, that's nothing.

He scratches the underside of his cock with his nails in a slow motion, trying to give himself a tiny bit of stimulation.

He keeps aimlessly scrolling through the pages upon pages of videos but he is barely even reading the titles, his eyes getting bored & he ends up focusing on the bunch of stupid adverts at the top of the page & he watches the same clip replaying over & over & he clicks on the video right below the advert a second later, the thumbnail catching his attention for the first time in forever.

The video takes a second to load & another advert comes up & he sighs, before realising it's the same advert from the top of the screen. He goes to press the 'skip advert' button but accidently clicks on the actual advert & it takes him onto a website.

He goes to just click off of it, but something... someone catches his his eye.

The website is styled like an early 2000's porn magazine, pictures of women with descriptions below, a small text box beneath each where you can leave your own message for the women to get back to you.

He decides to just scroll down a few, when a specific girl stands out to him, a girl called y/n. In the picture given, you're wearing a lacey black bra & panties set, your body & face on full display.

He takes a brief look at your description: "*YOUR AGE*, no hard no's, feel free to message me, I won't bite unless you ask me to<3" & Felix feels almost compelled to text you. He signs up to the website, not even bothering to think if it's a scam website & could steal all his information before setting his profile picture, his name, age & bio up before sending you a message.

Felix's description: "Into absolutely everything. I dom & sub, I'm not picky!:3 You name it, I'm into it!" He decides to keep it short, not wanting to add too much in case with his luck, one of his friends, almost as desperate as he is, coming across his account somehow.

Felllx2000: Aren't u too pretty to be here?

Felix texts you, not wanting to sound like a weirdo, he goes to click out of your name & scroll further down the site when he sees a speech bubble at the bottom of the screen, you already typing back.

You: Shouldn't I be asking you the same? you look so innocent, what you doing on here? Felllx2000: looks are deceiving then lol, i'm anything but that:3 You: I seen your bio, you seem like fun, whats brought you here? Felllx2000: came here on accident lol but i dont regret it now, do u have any more pics of u?? You: aww you're just a cutie<3 ofc I do, I'm supposed to make you pay for images since only the texting part is meant to be free but you're just a beautiful boy so one wont hurt. You:Imag.ddxi41g

Felix's eyes widen at the image, you're posing in the mirror in another set of lingerie, this time a hot pink set, making your curves look as good as possible, your hand cupping the bottom of one of your tits & you are sticking your tongue out.

Felix's cock jumps up from his stomach for the first time all night & a few of his fingers reach down to fondle the tip of his dick, eyes narrowing slightly at the sensation.

Felllx2000:can i be a beg & ask for another? ur so hot it hurts You: You're really a desperate boy aren't you? Why not you send me something of you first n i can decide if i'll send anything else ;)

Felix reads this & is instantly flicking onto his camera roll & selecting multiple photos of himself, photos of his aching leaky cock, photos of his abs & even a full body shot before sending it.

You, on the other side of the phone, your jaw drops when he sends the photos & the sleep clothes you're wearing all of a sudden feeling far too tight on your body. You go back into your camera roll & dig out a pussy picture, your fingers in a 'V' shape, spreading your hole & your clit visible, a shimmer noticeable, the photo taken after you did a private show for another texter (you made over £950 that night) since you were a bit too sleepy to take a brand new picture since it's 2am for you both.

Felix's cock pulsates, this being the first time he's actually received nudes for the first time in months & he begins to actually jerk off into his hand, all of a sudden he is actually getting the tiniest bit of sensation to his cock as he admires the photo.

Felllx2000: y/n ur making me nuts holy shit You: Feelings mutual sweetie, u jerking off for me? Felllx2000: thats a silly question of course i am, wish it was you though</3 You: you gonna cum just from a few pictures hmm? why you so needy? do you not get female attention, pretty? Can I ask what your body count is gorgeous? with a face like that you can easily be married by now. Felllx2000: noooo;( my hand doesn't bring me anything good, want someone else, want u. It's 3, I just dont get the chance! im good in bed though, id luv to prove it! ;0 You: Your neediness turns me on so much babe, what is it you want me to do to you? I want to kiss your pretty face off n ride you till you cry, your cock is so beautiful, so pink

You can't help but smile at your screen & you shut your phone off & you crawl out your bed & hop in the shower, taking the extra time to use extra body scrubs & scents as you feel a bit nervous of what you are gonna do, in the meantime, felix has began blowing up your phone.

Felllx2000:Want u to wrap ur lips around me so much;( want to fuck u so bad, i can last so long y/n, u have no idea Felllx2000: would let u wrap ur thighs around my head, pull my hair, i can be so good for you if u want me tooooo<3 Felllx2000: where u gone?:( did i scare u? im sorry, u dont need to respond.

You hop out the shower & dry your hair as quick as you can & you lift your phone that's half hidden in your bedsheets & you see the messages he sent & your eyebrows furrow a bit.

You: Don't be so silly, nothing that comes from your pretty face could scare me. You free right now?

Felix opens that text almost instantly & his eyes instantly widen, his hand freezing on his cock as he just stares at the words.

Felllx2000: I am why? you sound nearly as desperate as me

You: Well if you're really that desperate for me, we can exchange numbers & talk more n meet up hmm? & don't get cheeky lmao, calling me desperate compared to you! silly silly but i wont deny it;)

Felllx2000: right now? it says we are 6km apart so i can pick u up? or when? idk i dont do this idk how to acttt, you're making me blush You: Sounds fine hunny, we need to switch app because if we somehow get caught n you didnt pay id get in shit lmao, we arent allowed to meet people irl but theres just something about you, gimme your number pretty please

Felix springs up in bed & sends you his number quicker than you can blink & you text his number & he replies just as quick & his heart is racing at the thought... he's maybe gonna actually hook up with someone???

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You both decide to text for a few days, mostly to secure your own safety in a way & you facetimed once or twice, which actually ended up in phone sex both times & you now discovered it's a huge kink of yours.

You have mostly been waiting on Felix to get more comfortable as you can tell he is the more nervous one, unsurprisingly, but tonight is the night.

You've learned a few things about Felix, one of them being when he told you his name, but he also pretty much explained to you his... addiction & you'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on but also scare you slightly, what if you genuinely can't please him? you've never met anyone from the site in real life & you can't help but get butterflies knowing you're hooking up with felix tonight, possibly the hottest guy you've ever spoken to point blank.

Felix texts you to tell you he is on your way, both of you deciding to meet at your house since his small, man cave, standard gamerboy slightly messy apartment who he shares with his roommate Changbin is home.

You light a candle in your lounge area & put a loose top & sleep shorts on top of your chosen set & you put on the tiniest bit of makeup, still wanting to look good for him despite it being close to 1am.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

You hear a few knocks on your door twenty minutes later & you feel your heart coming out your throat but you do your best to swallow it as you waltz your way to the front door, putting on a brave face, taking a deep breath before opening it.

Felix & you both look at each other & smile, Felix wearing a pair of grey sweatpants & a matching hoodie, his blonde hair slightly messy. You whisper a 'hi' to one another, being quiet to not let the words echo in the apartment stairway, before you move aside for him to enter.

You shut the door behind him & you instantly flip around to look at one another again.

"Surprised you actually showed up, do you want a drink or anything?" you ask, giving him a smirk as you close the distance between you both & tease him by taking his hand in yours & guiding him to the living room, plopping him down on the couch, but he pulls you down with him.

"I'll drink later, c'mere." he remarks as he helps you onto his lap so you're straddling him & his lips lock with yours instantly, the kiss full of need from the both of you, you realising you've been lacking physical touch a fraction of the amount Felix has been.

His hands trail down to your waist & then ass, kneading it like a cat in his short fingers as he helps you begin grinding your hips against him & you can already feel his cock hard beneath the layers of clothes, making your eyebrows furrow.

You take the initiative & you begin poking your tongue through his puffy pink lips & he groans into it, the pair of you both now exchanging spit, the noise of your lips smacking together ringing through both of your ears.

You wriggle your fingers through his hair before you pull back on it, pulling his lips away from yours & he lets out a deep groan before you look at him, a mischievous look on your face before you lean down slightly & begin kissing his jawline & neck, using your teeth to nip at it, making him roll his hips onto your covered crotch, his hands fighting the urge to dig his hands past the waistband of your shorts.

You wriggle your hips slightly backwards to make more room for you to kiss his neck & your hands below his hoodie & you quickly make the note that he has no shirt beneath the hoodie he is wearing & you graze your fingers over his solid abs.

"& you said I was the desperate one, can I take these off?" he groans, his voice raspy as he tries to sound fully composed but failing. You lean back enough & raise your hips enough to wiggle off the shorts he was referring to, giggling as his eyes become glued to your covered core.

"Don't get cheeky Felix, you're the one pawing at me." you giggle as you pull his hoodie off his frame, leaving him naked on the top half & you basically naked on the bottom half.

You usher Felix to lay flat on the couch & you climb back on top of him & you plant some kisses on his now naked chest & you take one of his pretty, dark nipples in your mouth & you lightly bite, making him wince at the feeling has he keeps jerking his hips upwards, seeking even a tiny bit extra friction, which you decide you'll give him.

You give him a look as your fingers are playing with the drawstrings on his joggers & he just nods, giving you a non verbal sign that you can take them off, & you do, Felix raising his hips just enough for you to fully pull them off his milky coloured legs.

You hum in approval at the bulge in his underwear, the front part completely soaked with precum & you make quick progress of pulling his boxers off to, leaving him feeling desperate & he hums at the cold air hitting his wet tip, his cock harder & more leaky than it has been in his whole life.

"I thought nothing got you to orgasm anymore but your pretty balls look as if they're about to explode." you quip & he covers his eyes with his arm momentarily out of slight embarrassment.

"That's only when it's me, when it's you in front of me why would anyone be surprised." he squeaks, his stomach lurching forward as you take his pretty, boyfriend sized, chubby cock in your hand & hold it with a firm grip, using your thumb & index finger to pinch lightly at his piss slit, watching his cock leak precum like a broken faucet.

"What is it you're wanting Lixie, hmm?" you question, your hand painfully slowly jerking him off, more precum dripping every time your hand moves. "Tongue, please?" he pleads, his puppy eyes looking down at you & as much as you want to drag it out, your willpower already completely out the window & you chuckle at his desperate face before you ingulf his tip past your lips.

You use your hand to keep jerking off the base of his cock, his trimmed, straight pubes tickling the part of the hand that is grazing them & your other hand slithers down the extra tiny bit before you cup his balls, rolling them in your fingers & the moan the man under you lets out a load whine.

You swirl your tongue around his tip before sinking down his now completely soaked with spit cock, your drool dripping onto his balls, giving him goosebumps. You quickly come up for a breath & spit out the gallons of drool that hasn't been pushed out from his cock pistoning into your mouth & you take this opportunity to suckle on his balls, pulling on them with your lips gently, making Felix squeal as you continue rolling the other half in his hand. You catch your breath back as much as you can while doing this then you pull your lips off his balls & blow some cold air on them, making his cock twitch in your hand, before returning it into your mouth.

His hips jerk up on accident but when you moan around his cock, sending vibrations up his spine, he begins to thrust shallowly into your throat & you gurgle around him, your eyes not breaking eye contact with his, not even an ounce of embarrassment in your face despite the mess.

"Gonnagonna cum, d- you're so good." he groans as his hair begins sticking to his face as his eyes struggle & then failing to keep his eyes open as his tip spills ropes of cum out of it & landing right into your throat & you moan around his cock, moving your head up so you're only suckling on the tip as you swallow four separate mouthfuls of his orgasm & you can feel the wetness almost leaking out from your panties.

You pull fully off his dick & you aren't even that surprised that his cock is still completely hard. You open your mouth to make fun of the fact but Felix cuts you off by pulling you up towards him so you are now sat on his lower stomach & pulling your shirt off your head, leaving you in just your set & felix whines at the sight.

"Need to eat you out, I'm genuinely dying to taste you." he states as he pulls on the tiny tiny waistband of your thong & you just giggle at his words & crawl up his frame even more so your cunt is right above his face & he looks up at you with his jaw slightly open & his eyes watering.

"Really Lixie? I'll give it to you because I pity your desperation." you say, slight attitude & sarcasm in your voice as you lower yourself onto his face, your panties still covering where you both want to see & feel the most.

Felix begins to kitten lick your clit over your panties & he hums to himself at the tiniest faint taste of your juice that's seeping through your underwear & you purr at the sensation, trying your hardest to not begin grinding against his face, but when he is now pushing & pulling on your waist, you do just that.

Felix decides that your underwear is now soaked through enough with his own saliva & gets one of his small fingers & he pushes your panties to the side & he lets out a pitiful gasp.

"Your cunt is so pretty, it's soaking, shit." he murmurs, more to himself than he is to you before he digs in, pulling your body onto his face as much as he possibly can as he licks a long, wide strip up your entire cunt before settling his tongue on your puffy clit, suckling on it as if his life depends on it & you can't help but hiss at the pleasure.

He laps his tongue in tiny circles around your button as he sucks at the same time, making you feel as if you are on cloud nine. "No way this-you're this good if you're as inexperienced as-as you made out to be." You stammer, your eyes scrunched shut & your head raised up at the ceiling as your fingers find their way to his hair to tug on it, making him jerk his hips & whimper into your cunt.

He moves one of his hands from your waist & gives your ass a quick but harsh spank, making you jerk as forward as you can with his grip still holding you in place as his hand makes its way down to where his mouth is & he enters two fingers into your dripping hole & your stomach lurches & your body slightly curls forwards & you find balance in Felix's hair & he honestly has no issue with the way you are pulling on it, moaning back into your cunt which shoots right through you.

"Gonna c-cum, wait." you force out before you use all your strength to raise yourself off his completely soaked face, his lips red & puffy & his hair all dishevelled & you boop his nose, giving him a small smile through staggered breath as you do your best to flip your body around so you're now facing the rest of his body & Felix lets out a groan before pulling you back down onto his face, him already addicted to your taste & can't go s minute without it.

You grind down on his face, the bottom part of your pussy lips hitting against his nose, making you purr. You fully open your eyes & notice there's a puddle of cum on his abs, even whiter than his skin. "You c-came untouched, I'm fla-flattered." you blabber as you reach out for his cock & begin to jerk it, obviously still hard despite a second orgasm.

Felix chuckles into your cunt & his ears go a slight shade of red, a bit shy at how quickly you have managed to make him cum in such a small amount of time. You put the tip of his cock past your lips & hollow your cheeks, swirling your tongue as best as you can as your mind is going fuzzy by now.

You hum at a mixture of the taste of precum & also at the feeling Felix is providing you & you can feel your orgasm slowly bubbling up so you coat your finger in your own spit before you begin lightly pinching his balls, making him whimper into your cunt & he detaches himself from your pussy momentarily.

"Fingers, fingers y/n p-please., fingers." he squeaks to you, his voice completely blown out before he gets back to what he was doing, his brain running at a million miles an hour & his tongue moving even quicker, because despite the lack of women he has been with, he knows how to eat.

He latches his lips & tongue onto yours & suckles as he worms his tongue into your hole & your legs begin to shake & you take a second to compose yourself after listening to his words & you use the hand that was just jerking off his soaking cock & switch it to your other hand & you use your now shiny hand & you roll it down towards where he was asking, making sure to put a bit extra pressure on his balls as you drag it down.

You use your index finger & swirl it around his pucker & Felix lets out a squeal at the feeling & his dick twitches in your mouth & his hips buck up slightly making you gag but you don't pull off. As he does this, his teeth accidentally clamp down slightly on your pussy lips & that plunges you to your first orgasm of the night & your hips completely raise off his face from the overstimulation as your orgasm squirts out of you, soaking his face & hair, dripping off onto your now wet couch & he has to forcefully kickstart his brain & pulls you off his cock as your body stops tensing up so much.

"S-sorry, didn't know I c-could even do tha-" you whimper, panting. "Heyyyy don't apologise, that's the hottest thing I have ever ever seen." Felix cuts you off before he kisses you, your own orgasm now transferring onto your face & you groan into his lips at such a dirty yet hot act.

"You wanna keep going? We don't need to or anything, no pressure!" He blabbers out, glossy eyes looking into your completely blown out ones. "You can actually keep going? I'm surprised, follow me." You respond, giving him a cheeky smile as you use all your strength to properly balance yourself as you stand up & take Felix's hand, giggling as you lead him across your vanilla smelling apartment, the naked, cum soaked & sweaty blonde following your lead, letting his other hand wander over your frame, holding your waist & giving your ass a spank.

Felix kicks the bedroom door shut behind him, only taking a second to admire the decorations in your bedroom before he is plopping you on the bed & getting on top of you, his hand resting on the bed beside your head as he uses his other hand to start toying with your clit gently, not wanting to overstimulate you too much & your hips thrust towards his fingers on instinct.

"Put it in, Felix, please, want it inside." you purr, your hand grazing over his abs with your nails before grabbing onto his still hard cock & pumping it slowly, it still being wet with your spit & his hips jerk into your hand, a growl coming from his chest, spit almost leaving his lips.

"Really? Your cunt seems more than happy with just my finger, soaking for me." he smirks as he bites his bottom lip, trying to not let his own moan slip out from how turned on he actually is as he speeds up his motion on your clit in a messy manner, the wetness making his fingers slightly slip. "Please Lix, don't you want it?" you ask as a rhetorical question as your breath is staggering, trying to get more friction from his small fingers & Felix chuckles lightly as he begins blushing.

"You got a con-" "just use it without, I'm on the pill, promise." you speak up, a convincing look in your eyes. Felix nods & tries to compose himself with the nerves, honestly scared if he is gonna cum almost instantly.

He spreads your legs a bit further with his knee as he leans backwards on his knees, his cock poking the inside of your thigh as he kisses the parts of your legs he can reach while you're holding them & you melt into his kisses. "You're so pretty, want you to myself." he murmurs, mostly to himself but he doesn't take his eyes off yours & your ears turn as red as your cheeks.

"Then take me, I'm waiting on you." you remark, biting your lip as you smile up at him, silently praying his cock will slip inside you & not just poke against it. Felix's freckles become surrounded by a rosey colour & he moves his cock with his hand & drags it up & down your folds, making you both sigh in contempt.

You can both hear the light squelching sounds as his cock grinds through your wetness & it bumps against your clit every time his cock moves, making you grow beyond impatient & you reach down to try nudge his penis but he swats your hand away before you can reach it.

"Don't be so pushy, I'm about to cum as it is." he half jokes & you giggle at his words & he returns the action as he lets a glob of spit fall directly onto your cunt & it clenches around air as it dribbles down your clit & Felix sighs to himself at the sight as he pumps himself few times, slowly before he aligns himself up & slowly pushes himself inside until his balls hit against your skin & he whines as he feels your warmth, taking in the feeling of how tight & wet you still are despite an orgasm.

Your toes curl as he buries himself to the hilt, him filling you in such a delicious way, not too deep that it's uncomfortable but you can still feel it already snuggled up against your G-spot & you're honestly surprised he hasn't came yet with how desperate he's been all night.

"You're filling me up so well Lixie, m-move please." you plead & Felix has to take a moment to collect himself, he is honestly shocked that you have lasted this long, usually, the very few girls he has been with & his one short term ex would be falling asleep after giving him one orgasm or two maximum, not letting him to fully ever tire himself out so for someone he has met online only no longer than ten days ago who is actually able to keep up with him, he thinks it's a complete match made in heaven & he thinks his endless prayers have been answered.

Felix holds his breath as he moves his hips backwards before pushing back in, watching your face before picking up the pace. "Y-you look so pretty, p-perfect tits." he babbles as he stares at them, his eyes switching between your face & your boobs bouncing with each thrust, his lips parted & also shiny with his spit from where he has been constantly licking at them, his bottom one a bit redder than the top from where he has been nibbling at it all night.

"Go harder, p-please, you're s-so beauti, fuck." you stutter, your fingers reaching to pinch your nipples, your eyes going cross eyed, your pussy completely gushing wetness around Felix's base, clenching uncontrollably.

Felix growls at your words as he picks up his pace & he lets out a high pitched squeal as he pulls out & cums, it landing all over your lower stomach & a few drops landing just under your tits.

Felix pants & you remove one of your hands from your nipple & drag it down to smother the tip of your fingers in his orgasm & you hold it up to his lips & he looks down at you, a devilish look in his eyes as he opens his mouth that tiny bit extra to accept your fingers & you both hum in unison as he swallows around your fingers, letting out a hum of satisfaction.

You both don't break away eye contact as you flip you both over so you're now straddling him & Felix realises he is actually getting softer after orgasms & he basically has heart shaped eyes. "Still hard? You really are inane, match made in heaven." you purr, slightly repositioning so your bare cunt is resting on his slightly softened cock, but it really doesn't take long for it to get hard enough again as your pussy snuggs itself right on top of it.

"I told you I can go all night, You're just too good." He replies, his blonde hair wet with sweat & sticking to his pretty face & you hum at his words. "Do you think you can handle one more, hmm?" you ask, already reaching back to fondle his balls again & he nods instantly, his facial expression going back to a needy, desperate one straight away & you can't help but giggle as you pick up his pretty, red cock in your hand again before sinking back down onto your new favourite thing you've ever touched or saw.

You sink back down until your bodies fully connect & a shiver shoots up your spine & you let out a broken hum as you use whatever strength you somehow have to begin moving your hips in a comfortable way as you begin bouncing, laying your hands on Felix's abs for support, not failing to admire how good they look & feel.

"Holy shit, like-just like that y/n, why are you s-so good, shoulda met way-s-sooner" he rambles as his hands become restless, dragging over your ass, tummy, waist, tits & he drags his fingers over your nipples, making you hiss at the feeling.

"Cum with me, mkay? Paint me inside too, dare ya" you cry, your eyes struggling to stay open as you have to physically stop yourself from flopping forwards but its no use as he latches his arms around your back & pulls you towards him & plants his feet to the floor & uses the rest of his little energy to begin fucking up into you at a harsh pace, making you squeal.

You unbury your face from his neck & you lock lips with him & you both exchange drool, it having a slightly salty taste from his own cum he suckled from your digits just a few minutes ago as felix starts to rub over your left nipple, pinching it & it makes you yelp.

You begin clenching uncontrollably & you start to struggle to kiss him back & your legs begin to feel like jelly & start to give out & if it wasn't for felix basically holding you in place you wouldn't even be moving. "F-felix, fuck, yes! go'n cum, s-so-too good" you wail, your eyes scrunched together as you break your lips apart due to none of you actually being able to breathe, both of your lips a way darker shade, your lips & chins covered in each others drool by this point.

"Cum inside? It's comi-coming, s-shit, you g-gonna take it all?" he stutters, his brain trying its hardest to float away & he is basically forcing himself to keep even a single thought inside. "yes, please, please pl-please! I'll be so good, keep it in for you, c-can eat it out me later" you respond, your pussy dripping a white ring around his base, soaking his pubes.

"G- such a good g-girl, it's c-coming, cumming." He screeches in s raspy voice & as his cock pulsates in you as his balls drain that little bit extra & as you feel another few thick ropes up into your cervix, your own orgasm pours over you like a bucket of cold water & you let out a shriek as your entire body begins shaking in his hold & you throw your head against him & you bite into his shoulder, making him whine as his hips slow down.

You both stay like this for a minute, just catching your breath back for the most part, but you can't really help but enjoy listening to his heart racing inside his chest.

Felix slowly pulls his now actually softening cock out of you, a few droplets of both his cum & your own wetness dripping back onto his pelvis & he wraps his arms around you but then moves them down to his sides. "Are you sue you wanna hug? I-i don't need aftercare if you don't wanna do that, I know it was just casual sex." he says in a soft voice, sounding a bit upset despite trying to sound casual.

You pick your head up & look down at his pretty face & see the slight pout & confused look on your face & you 'tut' at him jokingly before you wriggle your hand under his neck & rub your nose against his neck. "Don't be so silly, Lix, i'll not just leave you after you just had four orgasms, I'll get you some water n stuff once my breath is back." you reply, weaving the hand that's resting under his neck into his soft but wet hair & fiddle with it in your fingers.

Despite you not being able to see it, Felix can't help but smile at your words as he returns his arms around you & relaxes a lot more. "You're a softie, who woulda thought. I've never had anyone or anything make me actually fully enjoy an orgasm until tonight, I'm actually drained for the first time ever." he chuckles & you can't stop yourself from softly giggling. "Glad to hear, I'm actually exhausted though so we aren't going again till I get feeling back in my body." Felix simpers at your words & nods his head.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

Felix doesn't stay the night, him not wanting to overstay & you not knowing if you should ask him or not, thinking it was too intimate to do so.

Felix leaves after another hour or so, you fed him some cereal as it was all you could be bothered to make & you gave him a bottle of water & he dug through your drawers to find some sleep clothes & helped you clean up with a damp towel from your bathroom.

You both agreed to stay in contact with each other, for sexual reasons... obviously, but you both start sending each other memes, random photos of things Felix bakes, pretty flowers you walk past on your way to work & so on... that's how its all started for you both.

A/N: I think I liked the idea of this more than it actually turned on so I'm sorry if I haven't done this as much justice as I could have done, I've been going through a lot lately with a lot of personal issues & I got admitted so I'm also sorry for not being active, I'm gonna get back on track soon enough. I have a lot of requests & I am trying to get around to them so please just be patient, feel free to send me thoughts/asks but thoughts get published first since they're a lot smaller. I hope you all enjoyed this piece though if you've reached this far<3

->Anon list: Open!

->Taglist: Open!

#felix x reader #skz smut #stray kids #stray kids felix #felix smut #lee felix #felix #skz felix #straykids x reader #straykids smut #straykids #skz scenarios #skz #skz x reader #kpop smut #smut

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carolmunson · 8 months

Text

i'm the best thing at this party | e.m.

up and coming rockstar!eddie munson x girlfriend!reader (is that a picture of slash? sure, but we can pretend it isn't.) aka the first time carol ever wrote a fic based off a taylor song. but in my defense, it was a chase petra cover of 'you're losing me' that inspired it. this is not connected to my rockstar!eddie x actress!reader storyline, this is it's own oneshot in a separate story.

in the early 90s, when your boyfriend's band starts to make it in the big leagues, you start to come to terms with the fact that he might not want or need a small town player anymore. eighteen plus. established relationship. angst. hurt/no comfort-ish. open ending.

"and i'm fading, thinkin': 'do something, babe. say somethin'. lose somethin' babe, risk something. choose somethin' babe. i got nothin' to believe, unless you're choosing me.'"

The Hideout was hot with all the bodies packed in like sardines; stark contrast to the icy chill of winter outside. Glowing on the screen was The Tonight Show, everyone’s eyes glued to it while Corroded Coffin made their first national televised debut.

No one’s totally sure how their manager Richie was able to finesse this slot – but they went to New York to film earlier in the week and didn’t ask any questions. With Richie, it's better to not ask questions and just let it happen. Eddie came home with an adrenaline rush so intense that he barely slept for three days. No matter how much you tried to keep him in bed and tire him out.

And sure, it was hard to have him be gone while you drove out to Indy and took a friend to see the new graffiti art exhibit that came in from LA when it was supposed to be with him. It was hard to have him miss a lot of things. His return from the city only started another big talk about it, one you've been having every few months the last two years. Even so, you couldn’t help but be proud of him, proud of all of them. Remembering that just four years ago they were barely getting fifteen people in here to see them play when you first started dating.

The crowd erupts when the camera comes off of the band on the stage and back to Leno at his desk, the boys in real life all standing on the bar. You look up at Ed and smile, he finally did it, he’s doing it. The contracts are signed, the people saw him, he’s gonna make it. He’s making it.

You duck out of the way when they start to spray champagne over everyone by the bar, “Not my hair, babe!”

The two bartenders pour shots of Jameson and flutes of Prosecco while the show cuts to commercial and it’s not long before you feel the sticky chest of your boyfriend up against your shoulder, “It was good? I did good?”

“Ed you’re…you’re fuckin’ famous,” you grin, “You’re fuckin’ famous!”

You follow while he leads you through the crowd, settled in near the back where the stage doors lead to the dressing room and out into the parking lot. He looks over his shoulder twice before he sneaks you both behind the amps; heart pounding when he leans you up against the painted cinder block walls, noses mashing when he takes your lips in his. It’s feverish, desperate when he pulls at your hips, one arm wrapped around your mid back to keep you steady up against him.

“Lemme – mmm – lemme take you to the green room,” he breathes between kisses, moving your hand toward the bulge in his jeans, “C’mon I wan–”

“The interview’s up!” Jeff calls from on top of the bar.

“Where’s Ed? ED? Come on! The interview’s up!” Gareth calls, the crowd erupting in a cheer of ‘Edd-ie, Edd-ie, Edd-ie!’

“Come on, come on!” you squeal, pulling away to pull him toward the front of the bar again, “You said they were gonna cut it!”

“It’s stupid, babe,” he assures, “It’s so dumb.”

“Ed, you’re being interviewed by Leno, this isn’t stupid,” you urge, “This is like – this is it.”

“It’s literally like two minutes, it’s not special,” he doesn’t move when you pull him along with you, a frown pulling on your lips.

“Eddie,” your voice raises an octave, tugging on his hand – he lets go.

“I’m gonna take a leak,” he shrugs, heading toward the green room while you watch him disappear behind the door. Your brows furrow slightly, but it doesn’t stop you from making your way back to the edge of the bar where everyone’s eyes are glued to the medium sized screen in the corner.

The crowd cheers again while the band is re-introduced, Eddie and Jeff sitting on the chairs with Gareth and Grant standing behind them. You admire the way your boyfriend looks post performance, nearly glittering with sweat but glowing with pride – with accomplishment. You look over your shoulder to see if he’s back from the bathroom yet, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

“So we got a group of some – what looks like – nice, respectable hard core guys,” Jay smiles.

“I don’t know about respectable,” Eddie scrunches his nose back at the host.

“I don’t know about nice, either,” Jeff jokes. You marvel at how relaxed and natural they all look on camera, cracking wise and getting laughs from the audience. They talk about the album briefly, and the front cover which has all four boys in caskets with a red kiss print on their cheeks.

“So, the debut is self titled, Corroded Coffin – but it looks like you all got a coffin kiss here,” he points out, “These from anyone special? You got the girls going crazy.” The audience erupts in cheers and screams, a bra finding its way flung into the sound stage. You giggle when Gareth and Grant hold it up, making them both blush pink on the screen.

“Well I got a girl at home, so, I don’t hear any screamin’ if it’s not her cheering for me,” Jeff’s smile is bright when the camera focuses on him and he winks into the lens. Sasha, Jeff’s girlfriend, screeches in the crowd of The Hideout.

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna do that!” she beams, and your heart thunders while you watch them kiss on the bar. The promise ring that he gave her back in ‘88 shines on her ring finger, awaiting something much more flashy when that first big rockstar payday hits.

“It’s definitely a change of pace,” Grant nods on the screen, “Definitely wasn’t getting a lot of girls in high school.”

“It’s wild,” Gare laughs.

“And what about you, Munson,” Jay asks, “Frontman like you’s gotta be beating them off with a stick.”

The camera focuses on him, his pink lips and smart grin, a flash of teeth before he starts talking. He’s so handsome, you feel your fingers and toes start to tingle when he opens his mouth.You weren’t expecting to hear your name on national television, or be alluded to. You’d never really prepared yourself for something like this. To be declared to thousands, maybe millions, as a rockstar girlfriend.

You swallow the nervous spit pooling in your mouth, heart pattering while you run through all of the scenarios of the outcome of being ‘announced’ in your head.

“I don’t kiss and tell, Jay,” he smirks.

Oh.

Your hearing clouds and your vision blurs – unsure of what you just heard. If maybe you imagined it, but that proves to be untrue when you feel a few sets of eyes on you. A moment of silent confusion lulls on the crowd at the bar.

You swallow the lump in your throat, fingers and toes cold now while the blood rushes to your heart and head, to your lungs which suddenly forgot how to work. Through teary eyes you look around, drowned out by the cheers of the bar when Jay announces when the album will release. You sniffle, trying to hold it back – but there he is in the back of the crowd now, eyes rounded; pleading, looking straight at you.

The tears spill over and you try to catch your breath as you make your way through the bodies on your way to the front door. You hear Gareth call after you, hearing him stumble over the barstools while he hops off the counter. Another ragged intake of breath shakes through you while you get closer to the sticker covered door, pushing through the first set and then the other into the dark blue night. Your breath puffs white in front of you, coat abandoned somewhere back inside The Hideout while you walk across the street to your car.

You fumble with the keys, blubbering while you get the engine started and the radio blares Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together part way through the song. In the rear view you see him hustle out of the bar to search for you, catching the start of your car and getting to the passenger window before you can pull away.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he strains, his fingers hanging on the edge of the half open glass, “I promise it’s not what you think. Richie asked me to answer like that, it wasn’t on purpose.”

You press slightly on the gas, making the car lurch forward and inch.

“Wait! Please don’t – don’t just go,” he begs, voice breaking with desperation, “We can talk about it.”

You look at him through wet eyes, the street lights haloing behind his head to feign his innocence. He can talk himself out of anything.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you rasp out quietly, “We’ve done enough talking.”

“I can…please don’t go,” he says again, “Not with you crying like this, c’mon. Don’t leave.”

“I’m gonna go home, Ed,” you sniffle, “J-just go h-have fun inside. S’too cold to be out here.”

“You don’t have your coat,” he states, “Come back in and get it. We can talk in the back, please.”

“I don’t need my coat,” you garble out, “I’m going h-home.”

“Well I’ll – I’ll bring it to you tomorrow morning,” he nods needily, “Okay? Is that okay?”

You let out a shaky breath, fogging again against your windshield, “F-fine.”

Eddie cracks a weak but winning smile, “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“I love you,” he adds. It tastes like ash in your mouth. You pull away before you feel compelled to say it back.

Eddie show’s up in the morning with coffee and your coat, a small carton of donut holes for you both to share. He’s all smiles, seeing you in the kitchenette cleaning out the coffee pot that you now no longer have to fill.

“Morning, baby,” he grins, “I brought your coat.”

“Thanks,” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the droplets of water that race down the side of the glass pout, “You can just hang it on the hook.”

“Are you…are you still upset with me?” his voice is airy, surprised while he makes his way behind you. Calloused hands reach around to pull your back in his chest, nose nuzzling against your cheek. Your stomach rolls, bile inching up the base of your throat.

“Enough, Ed,” you sigh, pulling out of his hold.

“Sweetheart, c’mon,” he huffs, “I told you already. I didn’t want to say that. But you know how Richie is! He just wants what’s best for the band and so do I! Don’t you? I thought you’d understand.”

“Jeff had no problem talking about Sasha,” you do your best to measure your tone, too early to start yelling.

“Jeff has the wholesome thing going for him; plus – you know his family isn’t for him being considered like, a rogue or whatever. He’s already in a metal band,” Eddie explains, like this is a totally normal conversation, “Richie even said this morning that he was getting a lot of calls.” “Okay,” you nod, sitting down at the small table in your kitchen where your coffee sits.

“And like, a lot of people wanna do interviews with us and get hype up for the release,” he half smiles, sitting down across from you, “I told you, it was…it was a good thing. They were saying y’know like, mysterious bad boy front man is a good angle.”

“Great.”

“It doesn’t…babe, it doesn’t mean we can’t be together,” he leans forward, hand reaching out to touch yours. His shoulders sulk when you put them both under the table.

“Ed I –” you let out a breath, eyes tracing a pattern on the waxed canvas tablecloth, “I can’t even look at you right now. And you wanna tell me we can still be together?”

“What like it’s…some consolation prize?” you choke out, “You made a fool out of me. The looks I got?”

“I know, I know, but it was for the band. You know how I feel abo—“

“How you feel about me?” you hold back a bitter laugh.

“Ed, the last year or so we have kept having the same conversation over and over again. You are so, so caught up in Corroded and making it and getting there and trust me I am so proud of you. If there is anyone on the planet who is more proud than me maybe it’s Wayne, but – this is just like, this is kind of it. We have nowhere to go from here.”

He’s quiet for a moment, his brown eyes rounding and brows tilting slightly when he realizes what you’re really saying, “What do you mean no where to go? Are you not listening? I said we can still be together, just like befo–”

“Before? Before when?” you get up and pace back to the kitchen where he can still see you, “Before when you would cancel dates to go practice? When you missed my awards night for work because you wanted to fill in guitar for a gig in Ohio? When you didn’t come to my poetry reading with the guys like you said you would and instead got plastered at The Hideout after rehearsal?”

“Well I apologized for all that, that was all in the past couple years and I – look, I said I was sorry and you accepted that,” his voice raises slightly, he stands up to full height with defense evident in his stance, “You can’t just throw it back in my face.”

“When you were gone weeks at a time for mini tours, for opening for bands on the East Coast – god, all the work I took off to make sure I was there for you? When you canceled our three year anniversary dinner, without my knowledge, because you got a call for discounted studio time on the same night,” you manage to get out, the tears inching toward the edge of your lash line, “And I sat there at the table in my new dress and everyone looked at me the same way they looked at me last night. Poor girl. Must’ve got stood up. What an idiot.”

“Yeah well that studio time is why we were on fuckin’ LENO, babe!” he pleads, “Don’t you get that? It’s for us!”

“It’s for you!” you break, the shrill frustration coming out with your voice, “It’s always just been for you. It’s always about Eddie and the guys. I have done nothing but make sacrifice after sacrifice, excuse after excuse to play the part of perfect, understanding, cool, laidback girlfriend but like fuck Ed, when is it gonna be about me, huh?” He stands there, unsure, cheeks sucking in between his teeth.

“And what’s on the docket for you on Friday? Have any plans?” you ask, your voice softening while you cross your arms over your chest. You lean the small of your back against the counter while you watch him. He clears his throat, hands finding their way into the back pockets of his jeans.

“Um, we have some meetings in the morning in Indy. And then um, we’re gonna take a late flight out to LA. The label’s excited – they’re really excited,” he breathes out, eyes finding the floor and your sock covered feet.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” you nod, voice still measured, “Since we’ve had the tickets for my niece’s winter school concert on the fridge for over a month. I guess I’ll have to tell her that her favorite bonus teacher couldn’t make it.”

“Fuck,” Eddie’s eyes shut, pulling his lips in to run his tongue across them while he thinks of what to say next. Your heart thrums in your chest, throat getting tighter and tighter while you hold back a cry – this was just another thing to add to the list.

“I can make it up to her, I promise,” his raspy nicotine voice becoming garbled with desperation, “I can make this all up to you, too. I swear. I wish you had just told me about all of this.”

“I have, Ed. We are always having the same conversation. I’m tired of having it. I’m so tired of this. Make it up to me? How do you make up for it?”

“I…” he chokes on his words, ringed fingers running over his face and reaching to pull his hair back off his neck.

“Go ahead,” you encourage angrily, “What’re you gonna do? Say something. Fucking, do something, Ed!”

“Baby, I don’t know what to…” he swallows, tears pooling in shiny wells over his eyes, “What do you want me to do? I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.”

You take a breath through your nose and let it out through your mouth, taking the three steps it takes to get to him. Your hands fall from being crossed, reaching up to cup each of his cheeks. Your thumbs run over the apples and drag softly over the stubble left over from the night before.

His eyes shut while he keens into your touch, his rough hands covering yours. Calloused fingertips coasting delicately over your knuckles. You know what you have to do, even if his touch makes you want to do the opposite.

“Go be famous,” you shrug, smiling weakly, “Go be the big rockstar I know you are. Like how you wanted. Go play The Garden and live in LA.”

Your hands slide down his face, tears falling after them, “Go do all that, and just, um – just leave me alone. Please.”

“But I don’t–” he starts, pulling in a sharp breath while a cry leaks out of him, “I don’t wanna lose you.”

“Oh, Ed,” you shake your head while the ache spills over into your own leveled sob, “I’m already lost.”

“No, please,” he begs, trying to catch your hands as they make it back to your sides, “Please, baby, I’ll fix it. I pro-promise.”

“There’s nothing left to fix,” you whisper in finality, “You should go.”

“I don’t want to,” Eddie’s soft pink lips quiver while he speaks, “Please. Please. I can fix it, the next interview, anything, it’ll be all you. I swear I can…I can…”

When your face doesn’t change he knows there’s no way to pull you from your stance, voice trailing off in defeat. You watch as he rips open your storm door and goes to his van, his chest and back shaking with sobs that make the hardware on his jacket cry with him.

A year passes and you are not surprised when you find out that Corroded Coffin has made the cover of Rolling Stone. Wayne bought every copy from the gas station at the end of the road and put them in every mailbox early that morning. You don’t think there’s been a day in the last year that Wayne wasn’t seen beaming ear to ear; his boy finally getting everything he wanted.

Life had gotten easier now that you weren’t regularly expecting disappointment. You went on few dates here and there, just trying to navigate your life after spending four years sharing it with someone else. Some nights were colder than others, but it was better than the frigidness you felt that night at the bar.

You did your best to avoid the tabloids – Eddie was certainly doing just fine navigating his life as a bachelor; some new model or actress on his arm every other month it seemed. Hardrock’s Resident Playboy. It stung the first time you saw it, and a little less each time after – heart breaker to the core; you would know, you were the blueprint.

In the same cold that matched the night at The Hideout a year prior; you sat on your steps wrapped in a robe – morning cigarette between your fingers.

“Morning,” Wayne’s voice is gravelly when it sounds over you, still soaked with left over sleep.

“Mornin’ Wayne,” you smile, taking a sip of the steaming cup of coffee in your other hand.

“Wanted to uh, to let you know that the guys are playin’ a show in the city tonight. I could uh – I could get you a ticket if y–”

“That’s sweet of you Wayne,” you smile tightly, “But I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“He might like to see you,” he shrugs. He hadn’t quite gotten over the break up the way you and Eddie had, convinced that this was the real deal – that he was watching young love flourish into something bigger.

“He’s seeing someone, Wayne,” you take a drag of your cigarette, “Why would he want to see his ex-girlfriend who still lives in Hawkins? He’s got some actress girl now, right?”

Wayne shrugs again, scratching at the back of his neck, “I never know what that boy’s got goin’ on in California outside of shows and gettin’ into trouble. Maybe he is seeing some girl but, y’know, seein’ an old friend could be good for him.”

“He’s still got plenty of friends here he can see,” you let the smoke out to drift off in the gentle wind rustling through the line of trailers and mobile homes, “I don’t think I need to be one of them.”

“Well, they’re gonna have a small after party at The Hideout tomorrow,” he offers, “Even if you just wanna do somethin’ fun. I never see you goin’ out anymore.”

You laugh, “You work at night, what do you mean you don’t see me goin’ out anymore? I go out plenty.”

His eyes linger on you, enough to encourage a thoughtful sigh – you might as well humor him.

“I’ll think about it, okay?” you toss your half finished cigarette onto the browned grass before looking back up at him.

“Okay,” he smiles, eyes sparkling as he makes his way back inside.

You spend the next day deliberating between making it to the bar or not, putting in the effort to get ready and showing up. Why bother? Just to sit awkwardly in the corner while everyone flocks to the boys and tells them how great they are? They already know they’re great, they’re crawling higher and higher up the ladder.

You haven’t even talked to Eddie since the morning he left your trailer, and Wayne knows that. He knows how bad you hurt his nephew because he came over to talk to you a week after Eddie went to California and stayed for good. ‘So why should I show my face there? So I can relive the moment he made a fool of me over again?’ You think while the hot water of the shower glides over your shoulders and down your chest.

‘Maybe it’ll be good to make amends or something, I at least owe it to the guys,’ you figure silently while you slather on some moisturizer at the bathroom sink. And you did – not seeing Eddie meant not seeing the rest of the band. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were your friends too, and you sort of broke up with them in the same instance. Sasha moved out to California with them soon after – it would be nice to catch up at least. You hadn’t seen her since that night.

‘But why would I want to bother? So I can see that engagement ring on her finger and hear her talk about her wedding plans?’ you swallow sourly while you use a touch of your lipstick as blush on the apples of your cheeks. ‘Remember all the times you thought you and Ed were gonna get married? Hilarious.’

Before you know it, it’s 11:30 and you’re standing outside of the sticky and stickered covered door of The Hideout. Even from where you’re standing the bar is a buzz like a hive, energy inside like a livewire when you get into the entryway, showing your ID to the bouncer at the inside door.

‘Small after party my ass, Wayne,’ you think to yourself when you get in, shrugging off your coat. There was barely room to move and most of the lights were off or dimmed aside from the small stage in the back. By the looks of it, they must’ve played a small set – an intimate ‘home base’ concert for the real hometown fans. You push through some of the crowd, acrid smoke haze hovering over the room. A single bar stool sits empty at the end of the counter close to the wall and before you can think about it, you beeline straight there before someone else can grab it. Not that anyone would be able to see it through the six couples making out to Slayer blasting through the speakers.

The bar tender notices you soon after, coming over to get your order while his two cohorts speedily pour shots and mix drinks. You almost don’t want to get anything just to make the night easier, but opt for a beer instead.

“How much?” you ask over the music.

“WHAT?” the bartender shouts, holding a hand to his ear.

“HOW MUCH?” you yell back.

“ON THE HOUSE. BAND IS COVERING DRINKS,” he shouts back. You take a few dollars out while he pours your beer anyway, sliding it across the bar with a smile. He smiles back, pocketing the ones with a wink before helping another person leaning over the bar.

The TV takes your attention, a tape of their recent interviews and music videos playing on a loop with no sound. The beer is almost comforting as it passes over your tongue, it’s been some time since you just sat in a busy bar – and for the most part, no one here even knows you. For the most part.

A call of your name snaps you back to reality, looking around to see exactly who you thought you would. Sasha. And low and behold a ring sparkles bright on her finger, a breathtakingly big diamond glittering in the neon lights behind the bar.

“Hey!” you call back with a smile, sick crawling up your throat. You watch as she fights the crowd to get over to you, wrapping you in a tight hug while you stay seated on the stool.

“How have you been? You look gorgeous,” Sasha’s tan skin glows back orange in green while the lights change, tight dark curls bouncing prettily around her face.

“I’ve been good!” you nod, your voice hardly sounds like your own, “Y’know just – hanging around Hawkins. How’s LA? How’ that ring?!”

She holds her hand out so you can really see it, her skin is warm in yours while you take her fingers. It’s more beautiful up close, the marquise diamond flanked by two smaller triangles in perfect harmony.

“He did so good, Sash,” you giggle.

“I slapped his arm so hard when I saw it,” she laughs, “I said, ‘Jeff we could’ve bought a freakin’ house!’ but you know how he is.”

“I do, I do,” you nod, “Did you set a date?”

“Probably not for another year or so if we do a big wedding,” she shrugs, “Maybe a little longer? We think it’s smart to actually buy a house first – with this kind of money coming in. And y’know, the industry is, uh, well, it can be wishy washy. What’s in today could be out tomorrow. We wanna be smart.”

“Well thank god he’s marrying someone like you then,” you tease.

“That’s true,” she beams, “Do the guys know you’re here? I can go grab J–”

“No, no, they don’t,” you interrupt, taking her arm gently while she turns to leave, “You don’t have to tell them I’m here. I’ll go find them, I promise.”

Sasha gives you a half hearted smile, “Okay. Well – We’re sitting over by the stage if you wanna come say hi to the guys. Gareth would lose his mind, and Grant brought his new girl with him, she’s so cool. They met in LA and she’s like, got the sickest punky-goth type of thing about her.”

“I love that he’s in love,” you gush.

“Me too,” she nods, “The girls are obsessed with him out there.”

There’s a silence, but it’s knowing – still one person yet to have been mentioned but you both seem to understand it’s not worth bringing it up. Sasha reminds you that they’re by the stage, giving her a wave while she disappears in the throngs of people in the crowd.

Half way through your second beer and a couple of random conversations with people later, you see him in glimpses while people pass by. You can tell by the smirk on his face that he’s flirting, and when more people move and re-disperse, settling, you see glimpses of her, too. Some cute young looking thing, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was her twenty-first birthday. All doe eyed and giggly while he leans over her against the wall near the booths. I guess whoever he’s seeing in California isn’t too important.

He looks good, healthy, you can tell his clothes are tailored now – sort of comical that a tailor would fit and adjust ripped jeans and an old leather jacket. Not that he has to know you think it’s funny.

Eddie leans forward and lets his finger tap her on the nose, a tell-tale sign of his that they’ll kiss later. He’s used that move on you more times than you can count. He did it the night you met, tipsy at a party at Gareth’s – tapped you on the nose, making you scrunch it.

‘Aw, if I knew you’d make a face like that I would’ve booped you way earlier.’

‘What do you mean? What face?’ You scrunch again.

‘That face,’ he bites his lower lip, blush on his cheeks, ‘It’s a cute face.’

You expected it to hurt more, to watch him active in his element; but it doesn’t. You know the motions, you know his tells, he next move. You can see it in the way he leans into her and then leans away – almost kissing her, but leaving her wanting more. You smirk into your next sip, counting down the moments until he puts their conversation on pause to do their rounds and finding her again later. Gotta keep her yearning, you guess. He certainly was always good at things like that.

You don’t see their reunion, you assume it was somewhere near the stage where the band and Sasha were. At the end of the night, the boys play a goodnight mini-set, just three songs. You’d never seen Ed so in his zone in your life, fully basking in the glow of upcoming stardom. Every chord and every lyric punching out of him like the sweat pouring from his hairline and chest. This was what you wanted, what you told him to do.

Go be famous. And here he was. Famous. Just like you said he would be.

Water takes the place of your beer while they play; and you know better than to get up and join the crowd. Much happier sitting at the end of the now more empty bar just listening instead of getting potentially punched or tussled with amongst the bodies.

People take their time leaving when the set is over, shrugging on their coats to brave the cold weather.

‘Thanks for comin’ out to celebrate with us – now get the fuck out so our buddies at the bar can go home before four!’

You savor the conversations and music settling down to a much quieter murmur while you sketch on a napkin. A few people you shared niceties with tap your shoulder to say goodbye, new friends you’ll never see again. On the other end of the bar you hear Grant and his girl order a round of shots. Your head almost pops up at the sound of his voice, but that might bring attention to you that you don’t think you really want. Now that the night is over, you’re glad you came. If anything, just to see that they were making it just fine – and they would have with or without you.

With less people in the bar you can hear Sasha’s laugh in the back where the stage is, and you laugh into your napkin turned sketchpad. Her laugh was always infectious, enough to make the crowd follow suit. You grab a fresh napkin from the pile next to you and start to doodle again while you figure out how to best leave without anyone catching wise that you’re here. Out of the last twenty people left at the bar, a little more than half knew who you were.

The tap of the pen on the bar top while you think blends in with the tinkling of hardware that gets a little louder the closer it gets to you. A squish of leather and drag of a barstool later makes you privy that someone’s next to you. Spiced cologne and sweat sheened skin.

“You come here often?”

Slowly, you turn your head – level with brown eyes you haven’t looked in for a year, just in the glossy pages of magazines you’d leave behind at the grocery store or Melvald’s.

“I used to,” you offer a quiet tired smile, leaning your chin on your hand on the bar, “It’s been a while.”

Eddie smiles back, soft, cautious, “Yeah, same for me.”

You both don’t speak for a moment, adjusting yourselves on the barstools while a few more people head out to leave. The jingle of the door fades out, crunches of the parting patrons’ sneakers and boots in the snow sound outside.

He clears his throat, bringing your attention back to him – the curls of his hair, the slight stubble on his jaw and cheeks. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth for a moment before he turns his chest toward you.

“Can I uh, can I get you a drink?”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson au #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie x reader

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miss-conjayniality · 4 months

Text

♡ SUB!ENHYUNGLINE AS SERVICE TOPS ♡

genre: smut (+ fluff)

pairing: sub!enhyungline x femdom!reader

word count: 2930

warnings: mommy kink (heeseung), cuddlefucking (heeseung), face sitting/face riding (heeseung & jay), daddy kink (jay), mistress x servant/slave (jake), reader wears bdsm attire (jake), bootlicking/foot fetishism (jake), mentions of rope play and chastity cages (sunghoon), slight objectification of all four of them if ya squint, overall themes of power dynamics (i made all four of them extreme simps for reader), reader is afab and uses fem gendered terms

A/N: god….this took fucking FOREVERRRR to finish. I had to rewrite jake’s section SEVERAL times cuz it was harder than expected to combine mistress kink with soft subby service tops. It’s ironic because you’d think that such a pairing is a walk in the park to write about. but the reason it was difficult is because mistress is normally depicted as such a ‘hardcore’ kink while service tops mainly operate in the realm of ‘softness’. funny enough…after overcoming the severe writer’s block i had for jake, i now feel very inspired to write an in-depth fic about jake’s portion.

heeseung.

heeseung is such a shy, sweet little thing. so sensitive. he’d do anything for mommy. whenever he isn’t being a mischievous brat, he’s the most soft-spoken sweetheart ever. he’s head over heels for you. he’s super affectionate and always wants to cuddle with you. there isn’t a single moment where he doesn’t want his arms wrapped around you (or your arms around him). heeseung loves the warmth of your embrace and believes it to be the most magical place on earth.

he’s a loving, caring boyfriend who admires all that you do for him. the dictionary definition of a gentleman. he too wants to give back to you tenfold. heeseung is the kind of man who will beg and plea to please you. he’s eager to make you happy and is drawn to the thought of you using him as your pleasure dispenser. he just wants you to feel good :( there’s no feeling in the world he loves more than seeing his stunning mommy flooded with all the orgasms she deserves. pleasing you is what pleases him.

heeseung is the epitome of a soft sub 🥺 he’s a very attentive and receptive lover. he’s yearning to get his hands on you whenever he can. he loves seeing your expressions whenever you’re getting pleasured by him. and if he ever detects any form of discomfort from you, he stops.

he’s the type to get very soft, mushy, and cuddly and would totally be into cuddlefucking. showering his mommy with so much love and appreciation. and even crying when cuddlefucking because he’s just so thankful to have a lover like you.

“thank you, mommy. thank you for taking care of me. for loving and respecting me. for showing me what real love is, and so much more. you deserve the entire universe.”

heeseung seems like he’d be highkey into face-sitting. it gives him the opportunity to inundate you with bliss while also fulfilling some of his softer masochist thoughts. he wants you to fuck his face until he can’t think coherent thoughts anymore. he’d moan so much under you that you feel the sensations of his whines up your pussy.

“mommy can you pleeeeease sit on my face?”

his desperate pleas continue, “I so desperately wanna get a taste of you while you suffocate me with your pretty pussy. please i need it so much. it’s killing me. it’s all I’ve been wanting all day”

it’s hard to resist the pull of your lover’s desires. heeseung is such a good boy to you. after all, who could possibly resist his dreamy doe eyes? you’ve teased him enough with the distance and finally start giving into the relieved tension. as the two of you are about to head to bedtime, heeseung has a different type of “bed” time in mind. one that involves less sleeping, and more pussy eating.

jay.

i will FOREVERRRRRRRR stand by the submissive dilf!jay agenda!!!!!! he’s the epitome of a simp husband who loves his wife deeply. he has his bratty moments occasionally. but 90% of the time, jay is suuuuuuch a good daddy for his little princess. jay lives to serve you. on every level. making sure you always feel safe, protected, and cared for. he loves preparing mouth-watering açaí bowls for you, giving you foot rubs while you sip the delicious mango smoothie he made for you, letting you use his credit card to buy those pretty n’ pink satin VS robes that have been on your wishlist for a while, carry all your luxury shopping bags while you strut like a bad bitch on the way to his car, have spa days with you, do each others’ makeup and play dress up, and of course….follow your every command.

princess gets what princess wants. all jay wants is for his princess to be happy 🥺 he can’t stand seeing you sad or mad. if you wanna be eaten out or have multiple orgasms, jay will happily let you use him as your fucktoy. you may have many toys that he has bought for you before. toys you can use while he’s away. but no “toy” could ever compare to jay himself. he himself is THEE sex toy. his hair. his chiseled face. his toned, honey-glazed, dusky body. his calming voice accompanied by his smooth moans. his delicious intoxicating cock. the way he so greedily eats you out and fingers you. the way he kisses your entire body and worships it like a goddess. your pleasure is his pleasure. that’s the mantra he goes by. you’re the star of the show.

you may seem like a perky n’ chirpy bimbo at first glance (which you are, of course 😚💅🏼). but beware. there’s so much more to you than that. you may be the living personification of pink glitter, but you’re also lethal & deadly. jay may be the physically stronger one of you two, but you’re the psychologically stronger one. therefore, you dominate him just off emotions alone. just a simple “please daddy? 🥺” with a puppy dog pout is enough to have him at your whim because a good daddy is one who submits to his princess. good daddies follows their princess’ orders and spoils her with all their might.

you really inspire him to open up (both his feelings AND his legs). the moment he opened up to you about being a submissive, he initially felt a wave of embarrassment. after all, who could possibly ever expect a cold, chic, manly gentleman like jay to even consider being a sub? you’d be surprised. once he heard you express approval of such a kink on him, it felt like a breath of fresh air. it’s not easy to become vulnerable about such a thing.

jay never believed in conforming to traditional norms of masculinity where the man is an obnoxious chest thumping caricature who thinks that being “dominant” is the only way to be masculine. he believes a truly masculine man is one who has the guts to be vulnerable and make bold, unorthodox decisions that go against the grain of what society expects from men. he’s well aware of his hot daddy dilf essence. but he isn’t your conventional daddy. no - he’s a submissive daddy. a daddy who serves the princess and gives her that ‘princess treatment’ she deserves.

as jay kisses and caresses your entire body, he showers you with praise and observes your expressions closely.

“princess, you have the most gorgeous body to ever exist and I want to take in every bit of it,” he vocalizes as he fingers you. “sometimes, it’s hard for me to believe that i’m in the presence of a lovely lady like you. daddy always wants to be good for you.”

his fingers penetrate deeper and his gaze darkens as he sees the sly smirk forming on your face.

“even when i’m at work, all i can ever think about is how my pretty princess is feeling. you deserve to be spoiled. don’t ever listen to anyone who shames you for being a spoiled brat or gold digging whore. they misunderstand the love we have for each other”

jay takes the fingers out of your pussy and replaces them with his mouth instead. the tent in his pants only grows stiffer and inundates his mind further. your heat possesses him to submission and he gets absolutely lost in your dripping slick.

“a good husband always submits to his wife. and i take great pride in submitting to such a bedazzling pretty princess like you.”

as he attacks your pussy with his sweet, loving kisses, he innocently looks up at you with the cutest pout ever and asks, “p-princess….am I p-….pleasing you right?” 🥺

jake.

jake is the sweetest, most wholesome boyfriend ever. he has the most heartwarming love for physics, dogs, his family, his friends, and of course……YOU - his mistress. he’s a nerdy little simp who caters to your every whim. all the other nerds envy him for having a drop dead gorgeous gf like you.

jake’s unwavering adoration for you shines through in every gesture and word. his chirpy demeanor is the most endearing quality about him and you think he’s the absolute cutest because of that. he possesses the kind of cuteness that makes you want to pinch his cheeks and shower him with kisses. you love him with all your heart and he loves you tenfold.

in vulnerable moments, jake finds solace in your embrace, relishing the safety and security that your presence provides. he trusts you implicitly, surrendering himself completely to your care and guidance. your approval means everything to him, and he achingly seeks to earn it through unwavering devotion and obedience.

can he be a brat? certainly. jake has his moments when he likes being tamed by his ruthless, sexy mistress. but the majority of the time, he’s mistress’ good little boy.

despite his “nerdy” tendencies, jake possesses a mischievous streak that emerges when he wants attention from his mistress. he might playfully tease you or engage in witty banter, reveling in the opportunity to provoke a reaction from you. yet, beneath his playful facade lies a deep-seated need to be controlled by you. he is a slave to your desires.

throughout your relationship, jake’s submissive nature became increasingly intertwined with his geeky identity. he has a borderline scientific obsession with your body and wants to know everything there is to know about it. he’s longing to discover what pleases you and how to best serve the needs of his mistress.

his love for you is like the gravitational pull of a black hole – inescapable and infinitely powerful. every moment with you feels like a scientific discovery, unraveling the mysteries of love and desire. your dominion is his north star. it guides him through the darkness and into a place of boundless subservience.

servitude is jake’s middle name. his respect for you extends beyond mere words and gestures. he delights in showering you with thoughtful gifts, whether it’s a handcrafted origami flower or a meticulously prepared home-cooked meal. each gesture is a testament to his boundless affection and desire to make you feel cherished.

one might assume that a wholesome nerd like him isn’t into anything freakish or wild. however, the opposite actually rings true. after all…he IS a scorpio man….

you see, jake has a HUGE weakness for you in black leather, latex, pvc, etc. because he knows that once you’re in your kinky attire, there’s no going back. i could totally envision jake being into something like bootlicking. picture this - you sitting on edge of the bed with your pretty OTK black leather boots on, and he licks those boots from the top of the knee all the way to the bottom.

or even better…..you going, “jakeyyy I need help putting on these boots 🥺👉🏼👈🏼”. and jake, being the servile prince he is, is more than willing to take the time tie every intricate knot of your boots. it’s a sensual sight for both of you. he’d also love to do the same thing with your other bdsm attire like fishnets, corsets, etc. because he adores “helping” you put them on.

jake is definitely a body worship guy. he wants his mistress to know how beautiful she is and how much he loves her. he wants you to know he’s always there to pamper you when you need it. all soft and kissy. 🥺 to him, just your mere presence is orgasmic. he feels that the moment you’re scantily clad, his brain is scrambled. even when you aren’t touching each other, you dominate him on a deep, emotional, symbolic level. he’s deeply fixated on you. it’s as if you casted a spell or induced deep hypnosis on him. something about you makes him want to obey you and carry out all your wishes. through it all, jake remains your loyal companion and devotee.

as jake finishes tying every lace to your sexy OTK leather boots, he adorably looks up at you, welcomed by your sultry, penetrating gaze.

“embracing my role as the slave to your desires ignites a spark within me that surpasses the excitement of any laboratory experiment,” he declares as he hugs and kisses your boots, “and i am more than eager to undergo every trial and test in your presence.”

jake begins the bootlicking from the bottom up, his sly smirk never leaving his face. the way he so confidently makes eye contact with you while licking away drives you fucking crazy. this man is so freaky and you love it. taking his sweet time with each foot.

as he makes his way up to your knees, he kisses and caresses them both with gentle, tender softness. “with every command you issue, you rewrite the laws of my existence, molding me into the perfect servant for you, my mistress.”

sunghoon.

don’t be fooled by his intimidating, stone cold front. because beneath it all, sunghoon has THEE softest, mushiest heart ever. he rarely falls in love. but whenever he does, he falls HARD. and you were the one who shook his world and lit up his universe. sunghoon is often afraid to display such a raw, vulnerable side of him to others. after all, love is tough and scary. and sunghoon’s personality is widely misunderstood by others. there’s more to the surface than you’d expect.

but something about you makes him want to unveil himself bit by bit - both figuratively and literally. you make sunghoon want to surrender himself to you. he will move the earth and sky for you and is merely putty in your hands. he’s protective of you like a knight & shining armor with his queen. he will treat his lover like a living deity. he views you as a goddess and is the type of man to get down on his knees for you, hug your legs, and bow down to you the same way ancient civilizations revered goddesses. that’s the level of power you possess over him.

in your presence, sunghoon’s tough exterior melts away like ice in the sun. you become the center of his universe, your light guiding his every step. he finds solace in your embrace, comfort in your presence, and strength in your love. with you, he discovers a vulnerability he never knew existed, yet he embraces it willingly, knowing that you hold his heart with the utmost care. your influence over him is undeniable, like a force of nature bending to your will. sunghoon becomes not just a lover, but a devoted servant to your happiness, ready to move mountains and cross oceans to ensure your well-being.

sunghoon is such a simp for you in a way that would leave heejayke shocked. so much to a level where it’d put soft boyfriend heeseung, submissive dilf jay, and geeky simp jake to shame. they’d never expect someone like him to get so lovesick. they’re so used to his icy facade that they’re unaware of the fire beneath. it takes a special type of person to awaken that out of him. no one could ever foresee such an esteemed man of logic and restraint behave so irrationally for you.

goddess - that’s what sunghoon addresses you as. because it’s true! your dual nature of being kind & nurturing, yet fierce and ruthless is reminiscent of how ancient goddesses could bless or hex you in an instant. it’s what he respects about you. you possess the depth and breadth of the divine feminine. whenever he looks at you, he sees you as someone who commands respect.

and i just KNOW he’s one of those subs who repeatedly says “thank you thank you thank you” over and over when inundated by pleasure from his beloved. 😢 sometimes he feels guilty for receiving it all because first and foremost, he gets off on getting you off.

sunghoon is intrigued by the idea of you with black heels, stockings, a short skirt, etc. while those big, buff, beautiful arms are tied behind his back and you pull him in to suck your pussy. he likes when he’s fully naked and you’re (somewhat??) clothed. it puts on a specific power dynamic that he very well gets off of. he’s willing to bare it all for you, both symbolically and literally. sunghoon is totally the type to cry happy tears of gratitude while he messes with your pussy. he loves it when you have your way and you do whatever you want to him.

he gets off on situations where he can’t touch himself but he can touch you. such as his arms tied back as mentioned earlier, OR a chastity cage so that he doesn’t jerk off while he gets you off. you honestly don’t mind if he jerks off while pleasuring you. you find it hot. but he insists on the resistance anyways because he believes that such a buildup leads to a more intense climax for both of you later on.

just imagine….him with a sweet, pouty face and his loving words towards you as he kisses your thighs and dives into your slick with his lips…..

“mmm…m-my beautiful love goddess,” he cries. “thank you. thank you so much. i am all yours. i exist just for your pleasure. i hope you realize how much I love you. you’re my everything.”

tears start dripping down his eyes because of the immense gratitude he feels for you. the act of eating you out gets him into a deep trance. once he starts, he just can’t stop.

“goddess….your existence is a blessing. i worship you because your presence illuminates my world. i surrender completely to you, devoted to fulfilling your every desire.”

#enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #sub!enhypen #sub!idol #dom!reader #heeseung smut #jay smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #xoxo heidi ♡#hard hours with heidi ♡

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munsster · 1 month

Text

rockstar standards

A/N: PLS PLS PLS DROP SUGGESTIONS FOR HOCKEY STEVE/EDDIE im having a total brainfart but i need to break into the hockey au game bc i love it 😻 (gif creds: @cuntyarmand)

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader, 90s AU

Summary: Corroded Coffin starts to gain some traction, and you can't help feeling stranded. 1.5k words

Warnings: minor angst/hurt comfort, fluff, pining, pet names (bug, sweetheart, sweets, baby), jealousy, undressed cuddling,

You watch him parade around the stage every Friday night. Sometimes he's playing the home stage, other times he books random amphitheaters and dive bars. But today, he's drenched in purple light on the outskirts of Chicago. It's by far the biggest venue Corroded Coffin has played. You sit by the pop up bar, but bodies are packed like sardines in this place. It's hot and loud, but it's worth it to see him so elated.

Even through his streaky eyeliner, you can tell he's adoring the attention of the pit. You can see their red fingernails and shiny tank tops and free flowing hair. You never thought Eddie would be the kinda thing you were attracted to. You also know he's not the kinda guy to be attracted to something like you. You know guys like Eddie usually go for the Pam Andersons and Courtney Loves. The Party girls. Not the ones who have nothing better to do on a Saturday night than watch a romcom alone.

That Sunday, Eddie pulls onto your street. It's late and he has a ringing headache. He couldn't think of anything better to do after touching down in Hawkins again. You'd headed home the night before, and it made his gut wrench knowing he wouldn't get to see you the rest of the weekend.

Your door creaks open, and he's smiling on the other side. He's already leaning against your doorway with the bouquet he bought earlier from the woman selling them on the corner.

"Missed you, bug," he huffs, "Can I come in?"

You step aside without another word, and he hangs his leather jacket on the coat rack like always. Something feels off when he sits on the couch to find you're on the complete opposite side from him. Usually, you're not shy about cuddling up beside him to watch a movie or share snacks or just talk.

He frowns and scoots closer, leaning in to grab at your ankle playfully. You kick his hand away, brow set hard above your lethal glare.

"Sweetheart," he huffs, tilting his head in confusion, "What's going on? Where's my cuddlebug?"

"I dunno, somewhere in Hollywood?"

His eyes nearly pop out of his head at that. You're his favorite girl and you know that. So why're you grilling him now.

"Tell me what's goin' on. What did I miss?"

And you look serious, too. This isn't some running joke he missed out on while he was away. He's not sure who bruised your confidence, but he's sure he'd like to have a few words with them. He hates the way your lip wobbles and your eyes avoid him cause it gives you away. That's how he knows you're heartbroken.

"Eddie," you whine, swiping a hasty tear from your cheek. "I just don't know why you keep me around when you could have any of those girls at your bon vivant gigs."

"Fuck is that supposed to mean, bug?" He barks it out on accident, sitting back on his haunches with a scowl. "I'm sorry, but there's no way I'm gettin’ rid of you."

"Eddie, please... you're gonna make it big and get shipped off to Tinseltown, and I'll still be here, teddy. Probably being someone's lonely, suburban housewife. It's what I'm made for, and that's not what you want."

"You're wrong."

"And maybe you should go," you whisper, choking back a sob and standing from the couch.

"No, sweets, you're wrong," he says, standing and striding over to you, "You've got me wrong, and you've got you wrong."

You cross your arms over your chest and finally look him in the eye.

"'S that so?"

"Yeah," he tuts. And he has the most charming, most dastardly smile you've ever seen, flashing his canines like a gentle killer. "'Cause I'm gonna take you with me."

"Teddy."

"Nope, I'm takin' you with me wherever I go, and there's nothin' you can say to change my mind. Even if you hate my music forever, fine, I'll fix you up in a nice five star anywhere we go. You can sit and watch all the movies you like. You'll be nobody's housewife, baby, 'cause I'm keepin' you."

You roll your eyes, batting away tears when he grabs your hand to pull you back to the couch.

"And what if I said that's not what I want?" you suggest, testing his rockstar resolve with your big, wet eyes and stubborn quips.

"Then I'll give you somethin' else. Anything else. But you're mine no matter what." If only you knew how proud it made him to call you his girl. To know you support him even if you don't love his genre. "Now, would you come closer? You're killin' me."

You obey with a frigid pout, letting him drape your thighs over his and brush his ring clad paws over your cheeks, down your neck.

"But what about your groupies and the pretty girls at the bars or in the front row?"

"What about 'em?" he says, just barely shaking his head, "I'll have somethin' way better waiting for me."

You chuckle. "You're crazy."

He cocks a brow. "Old news."

When he notices how close you've gotten, he smiles. Your manicured nails graze over his chest with the only light washing over you from the dimly lit kitchen. He can't resist his palm curling behind your neck, pulling you close for a sweet kiss.

"Where d'you keep your vases?" he mumbles, remembering the tulips resting on the little table.

"Kitchen. Above the fridge," you say with your fingers already slotting between his to pull him towards the warm light. He loves you like this: sickly sweet and tender, holding him all gentle in your hot pulse. You go to reach for a painted ceramic vase, but he wraps his arm around you and turns you away.

"Ah ah ah, drop it, sweetheart. That’s my job," he says against your temple, holding the lip of the vase and patting your ass. He takes the bouquet from your grasp and sets both on the counter by the sink. You hand him a pair of scissors and he carefully snips the stems jagged, filling the vase with water.

His stomach flips when you wrap your arms around his waist and clasp your hands at his belt. He sets the prepared arrangement aside and turns in your embrace.

"All done," he says wickedly, palming your face with his wet hands. You jump back with a squeal, pelting a dish rag at this chest.

"Use a towel, you slob!"

He chuckles and wipes his hands on his shirt, tossing the towel over his shoulder and leering at you like he's starved.

"Come here," he mumbles. You go a little shy under his gaze, dropping your head and shuffling towards his presence. He catches you by the hips, dipping down to catch your mouth in a prying kiss. You grin against him and he groans, tugging you tight against his body.

"Always love how soft you are, baby. Surprises me every time." He shakes his wild mane and purses his lips for you to kiss this time.

"Where d'you want the flowers?" he says.

"Bedroom?"

His eyes light up involuntarily, and he grabs the vase, bounding off towards your room gleefully. You jog to catch up with him, and when you enter the threshold, he's expertly positioning the vase next to a stack of books on your dresser.

"Much cleaner than mine," he says, gesturing around the room, "You keep it nice in here."

You shrug. "Could be cleaner."

"You can never see mine," he teases, knowing full well you already have. He slings his arms low on your hips, adoring you in the blue light of dusk. "Can I undress you?"

You bow your head and whisper, "teddy..."

"Not like that. Just wanna hold you."

You kiss his slanted mouth sweetly, nodding.

He reaches for the edge of your soft cotton dress, pulling it up and over your head. He whistles low upon seeing your undergarments, whipping his shirt off and onto the floor somwhere. You giggle, helping him with his belt buckle. He traces your temple with his lips leaving kisses along the way. He steps out of his jeans and lets you lead him around the bed.

His curls sprawl out against your pillows, and he welcomes you into his side with a lazy smile. Your reach to touch his waist and softly feel over the scar below his ribs.

"Little tender, bug," he hisses. You bat your eyes up at him scared, pulling your hand away.

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head. "No, please," he whispers, cradling your wrist, his eyes locked with yours. He draws the hair away from your neck, replacing it with his fingers to dance down along your spine. You’re warmer than he’s ever felt before and thankful for it. His hands are cold, but he doesn’t have to worry about it for very long when you bring each fingertip to your lips for a kiss.

“You’re my girl, alright? Always,” he whispers and you nod, “always.”

masterlist

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #stranger things #x reader #fluff #stranger things x reader #x fem!reader #rockstar!eddie munson #90s au #jealousy #angst

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guardianofnightmares · 3 months

Text

Sunrise

Faint beam of artificial light from a surface danced off yellow armor of an Autobot, giving it a color of a newborn star. Bumblebee graced the Decepticon with a broad smile, its warmth making the hostile gloom around his facial features to dissipate.

To Blitzwing a minibot reminded a stray ray of hope which arrived to safe lost souls from a long dead and forgotten world.

A true rising sun in the realm of darkness.

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Alright, fellas, next entry to the @blitzbee-week event is finally here)). The prompt of the second day was "Sunrise" and I decided to go more figuratively with it rather then depicting a literal "appearance of the sky" at a particular part of a day. As you can guess by a provided description, Bee basically becomes a "leading star" for a brooding Blitzwing, who, as it seems, is not that thrilled by discovery of his partner.

Just as a previous entry to a mentioned event, this picture is dedicated to my fanfic called "TFA: Icarus". Here's a [link] for the series "folder" which also includes an existing teaser (future prologue) for a story if anyone wants to give it a try. Again, can not thank you enough for all the support you've shown for it so far, I will try my best to come up with updates soon enough.

As it usually goes with such works of mine, I will provide the full snippet of one of chapters, which a depicted scene is taken from, under a cut line for anyone wishing to read more about the scene. Hope you'll enjoy it)

To the surprise of many comrades he’d worked with, the Triplechanger proved to be the most patient mech on a team when it came to long lasting missions. Usually he didn’t find it difficult to lay low and wait for orders to come, even if it meant to stay idle for several solar cycles. It was a useful trait of character which Decepticon rightfully prided himself of.

Yet, even a seemingly boundless patience had its limits.

“Can you see anything of use out there?” Blitzwing finally asked his unfortunate “partner in crime”.

A brightly colored mech slipped on the spot upon hearing Con’s voice but managed to regain his balance.

“Not yet, Blitzwing, give me a klik!” A minibot shouted over his shoulder, holding on the steel bar for dear life. “Climbing is not as easy as I’m surely making it look in your optics.”

If Bumblebee planed to cheer up a Warframe with such a comment, he failed miserably, for it only seemed to sour up an already bad mood of a tall mech.

To a Decepticon, it felt like forever since the minibot began his ascend up a steep scarp of a crumbled wall. One would think that, thanks to his light frame, he’d manage to reach the top level in no time. But even this uneven terrain, made of torn sheets of metal and broken cables, proved to be a challenge to an agile Autobot.

The damned energy chain, which linked limbs of both mechs to each other, clearly was the greatest obstacle for Bumblebee, barely giving him a chance to move as far away from a somber mech as possible. Not to mention that a Decepticon was forced to stand on one pede in order to accommodate his companion’s slow conquest of new heights.

Admittedly, a Triplechanger considered an option of tearing the bug’s pede he’s bound to off. But that type of cuffs always latched onto anything in their vicinity (while being activated). Meaning, the chances of getting tied to a nearby wall, as a result of said actions, reached more than 90%.

Tearing his own pede off was not part of a Warframe’s plans.

“If you haven’t noticed it yet, Bumblebee Prime, we don’t have plenty of time left to hide in these tunnels,” A “former” convict grumbled in response while surveying his surroundings for an up-tenth time. He didn’t notice how a Bot winced at the mention of his new title.

Minibot knew he deserved that snide remark. But it did not make him feel better about his recent promotion to an Elite Guard. Or about a decision to become one for that matter. The decision which led to a situation where an Autobot and a Decepticon got lost under an Iacon city.

They had to hide in maintenance tunnels from the times prior to a Great War. Tunnels built by Decepticons for Autobots’ use, and left by them to slowly rot in an utter disrepair after the said War was officially ended. Sealed off since the banishment of Warframes from Cybertron, eventually the structure turned into an urban myth not many of currently living mechs remember or even know about.

An old complex Blitzwing and Bumblbee were currently navigating in was once part of the major supportive structure. Meant to protect veins and tubes once full of energon, that section was made of sturdy materials which stoically passed the test of time.

The Decepticon would’ve lied if he’d said he’s not pleasantly surprised by that discovery.

But it did not bright up his mood by much - they still needed to find a way to the surface level of a planet.

“Foolish of me to expect a scout with no field experience to do a Warframe’s job,” the mech muttered under his breath, words bitter on his glossa. “Perhaps I should have been the one to search for an exit after all”.

Blitzwing had no intent for the last sentence to be heard by his peer, but an aforementioned scout, apparently, had nicely tuned audials.

Figures.

“And to risk exposing your Decepticon signature to raging authorities? No, thanks!” Bumblebee chirped after successfully reaching for a rod sticking out of a long abandoned structure. “It was already enough of me putting everything at risk by making stupid decisions - I don’t want to see you following my lead.”

Somehow the fact that a minibot admitted his mistakes helped to somewhat cool Blitzwing down. He said nothing in return but did glance at him once prior returning to surveying desolated surroundings.

Bumbler’s changed since the promotion to the ranks of an Elite Guard. He seemed to act more mature, even if he’s still naive about most things happening around him. For strangers it’d be an unexpected change of character for such an optimistic and energetic Bot as Bumblebee. But Blitzwing was no random outsider, whether he liked to be on closer terms with a current companion of his or not.

Death of a teammate has effected the minibot on a much deeper level then he’d ever admit to anybody, even to himself. Yet, despite how horrible it might’ve sounded, the Decepticon thought that that was an important lesson every soldier had to live through. And as a mech, who’s witnessed deaths of many of his comrades throughout the Great War, he had to agree that Bumbler was holding up pretty well for someone so inexperienced in mentioned matters.

Even Blitzwing, who did not know Prowl as well as a yellow Bot did, felt the loss of a mech effecting him as well to a certain degree. No matter how secluded and cold the cyber-ninja seemed to be, he always had a special aura around him, the one that made people feel at ease in his presence. Though how he could so freely speak to a Con about importance of life and probability of peace among Cybertronians remained a mystery to him to that solar cycle.

What was that thing black and golden Autobot’s talking about during the last conversation of theirs?

“To have Faith not in Primus, not in The Allspark, but in each other”?

What exactly made him see it being possible back then and, especially, at a current stage of the reignited conflict between factions? Triplechanger had no answer to that question either. He didn’t view how the world should work the same way Prowl did. Could not fully comprehend the intricacies of a philosophy of an Autobot, but, at least, did not lack the courage to make it very clear during a mentioned discussion of theirs.

Blitzwing didn’t have Faith in anyone anymore, and he surely wouldn't in a foreseen future.

For who could remain being supportive of their unhelpful, unwanted partn-… Autobot, while being lost in Allspark forsaken place with no means of escape?

…

“… -es! I see the gap in a wall!.. Blitzwing, I actually see it!”

The joyful voice tore Triplechanger from a deep melancholy state he slipped into while looking down a dark tunnel to his left. He raised his ruby optics, their faint glow barely lighting sharp features of his blue faceplates.

“Right where you’ve predicted it to be,” The Autobot added after turning around in order to face his unfortunate companion, unintentionally giving him quite a peculiar view of his small form.

To Blitzwing a minibot reminded a stray ray of hope which arrived to safe lost souls from a long dead and forgotten world.

A true rising sun in the realm of darkness.

...

Blitzwing huffed in mild annoyance at himself and his artistic side of a processor - it was not the right moment for poetic comparisons. Hope and Faith had no place in a situation he was stuck in, only cold calculations. He and Bumbler had to get out of that place, no matter the cost. And the sooner they’d get rid of an energy chain, the better.

#blitzbeeweek2024 #blitzbee #bumbleblitz #tfa blitzwing #tfa bumblebee #tfa prowl #blitzwing #bumblebee #prowl #transformers #transformers animated #tfa #TFA: Icarus #gn projects

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seeingivy · 1 year

Text

donuts

megumi fushiguro x f!reader

content: IMPLIED MANGA SPOILERS, hormonal pregnant reader, dad!megs, gojo being a dad to megumi

an: dad gojo this, dad gojo that. WHAT ABOUT DAD MEGUMI. anyways im sick and I am 90% sure I have covid but alas I spit this out before I study. it's like a reward.

recently, megumi has been letting things happen.

and by recently, he means two years ago, when his little star boy was born. or even at large, five years ago, when he met you, his sun. an fellow sorcerer who he easily fell for, like it was something inevitable. something necessary, involuntary even - like it was the air he breathed or his heart beating.

and since then he’s been letting things happen. he’s been letting gojo come around - so that he can spend time with ash. so that ash can have a grandfather, not that megumi would ever say that out loud.

he lets nobara and yuuji spoil him rotten, lets maki teach him self-defense (which is just swatting at this point), and yuuta explain the rules of chess to him for hours even though ash barely has coordinated motor functions.

he lets things happen. especially when ash asks him, the pouty face that he’s entirely gotten from you pressed on his face. like today, when he feels a little fist tugging on the end of his shirt.

“yes, ash?”

“i want donuts.”

megumi squints, like he’s questioning him. every bit his son, ash has fully inherited the full breadth of megumi’s dna - dark hair, green eyes. but every one of his expressions, those are all all you.

“ash.”

“yes?”

“do you want donuts or does mommy want donuts?”

ash stands there for a few seconds, deep in thought, before answering.

“sticky wants donuts!”

megumi sighs, picking him up and dragging him out of the room with him, to find the culprit of this entire plot - you. that deliberation means that ash was trying to remember what it was you had told him. and truly, only you would use his unborn daughter against him.

he finds you splayed on the couch, a heating pad pressed into the small of your back, as you talk, directed down to your stomach to tsumiki. or sticky, as ash calls her since he can’t pronounce all the syllables just yet.

“megs?”

“yeah?”

“i thought of a name for her.”

megumi leans against the counter, half turned away from you, where he watches gojo and ash snuggled up on the couch, ash excitedly explaining the plot of his current favorite movie to gojo. gojo’s all too absorbed, though he does get offended every time ash says that elsa is cooler than him. and even more offended that when gojo calls elsa pretty, ash says that elsa would never like him.

“well. ash is our little star boy. his name is perfect for him. and you’re my blessing so megumi is perfect for you. but our little girl-”

you reach forward for his hand, placing it on top of your teeny tiny bump, which just started protruding, as you squeeze his hand.

“she’s precious. she’s our only girl and, and she’s so gentle already. ash was a little heathen, always kicking and excited in there. but she’s so soft, i already know she’s special. she should have a name that reflects that.”

megumi reaches up, cupping the side of your face, where tears are now sprouting out of your eyes. one of megumi’s favorite things about you being pregnant, besides the disgusting concoctions you eat because of your cravings, is this. your out of whack hormones that have your lip jutting out, that little whiny, cute pout he fell in love with on your face at all times.

“what’s the name, sweetheart?”

“tsumiki.” you whispers.

you look up at his green eyes, wide and filled with an emotion that you can’t quite discern. and you can feel the immediate panic at the reaction and try to backtrack as fast as you can. surely, he’s simmering with rage under there.

why would you name your daughter after his dead sister?

“megs. i-i just thought it would be nice because i never got to meet her and i know she was special to you. i’m not saying she’s replacing her, but i just-”

megumi puts his hand on your mouth, his finger brushing across your soft lips, as he pushes you into his embrace, hugging so hard he’s sure even the baby, tsumiki, must be feeling it. he holds you there for a while, not saying much, as his hands rub into the small of your back.

and you wait for it, because you know megumi like the back of your hand. touch first, words second. and right on cue, minutes later, you hear it, the soft whisper on your skin that makes your cheeks burn.

“my tsumiki would have really loved you, you know that?”

you look up from the conversation you were having with tsumiki - telling her that she always has to side with you and ash instead of megumi - to find him standing there, glaring at you.

“hello, love of my life.” you say, tapping the spot on the couch next to you.

megumi takes the seat, trying to hide the smile on his face, as he gives you a suspicious look. he places a kiss to your temple before placing his hand over your bump, something he does every time he walks into the room. it’s his way of saying hello to her.

“sweetheart.”

“yes, megs?”

“ash is telling me that sticky wants donuts.”

“stickyyy does want donuts. and ash does too.” you respond, giving him your best smile.

“you know, if you want something from me, you don’t have to use my son and my unborn child against me to get it.”

“how dare you bring tsumiki into this. she wants donuts, that’s why i’m craving them. take it up with her.”

ash crawls into the space between you two, resting his head in your lap and his legs in megumi’s as he reaches forward to tickle his sides, eliciting a screaming laugh from ash who is begging him to stop. you smack megumi’s hands off, running your hands through ash’s dark black locks as he calms down and looking at megumi. you pinch ash’s side a little, giving him a non-discrete wink.

“daddy. I really want donuts.”

“oh im sure you do ash. i’ll go get them” megumi responds, swinging his legs off and standing up.

“can i come?” ash asks, excitedly wrapping his hands around his knees.

“buddy. it’s nap time. you have to sleep.”

ash juts his lower lip out, mustering the frowniest face he can, as his little green eyes look up into megumi’s. and of course, he immediately gives in, because he can never say no to his little star boy.

“fine. get your shoes.”

ash turns excitedly to you, giving you a grinning smile.

“did i do good, mama?”

“perfect, star boy. just like i taught you.”

ash excitedly runs off as megumi gives you a soul crushing glare, which you pointedly ignore. the two of them shuffle out of the apartment, the smile spreading across your face as you watch megumi swing ash onto his back to close the door.

an hour later, megumi walks into his apartment to find you, yuuji, nobara, and gojo on his couch. the three of you are crouched over the table and he can see that your face is all pink, surely from crying.

ash runs into the apartment, taking turns giving everyone a big hug, before climbing into gojo’s lap, and reaching up to play with gojo’s hair. megumi sets the box of donuts down and takes the seat next to you, wiping the wetness away on your cheek.

“hi y/n.” he whispers.

“h-hi megs.” you whisper back, interlocking your hands with his to squish.

he smiles as he reaches for the box of donuts, equipping you with the maple bar he knows you’ve been craving, as he watches you nearly inhale it in five seconds.

“god. you’re like a vacuum.” nobara says, a horrified look on her face.

“s-not me. miki.” you respond, now pounding through your donut.

“are you really blaming it on your unborn daughter?” nobara asks.

“she blames everything on her. yesterday, she made me come all the way out here just to hand her the remote because it was too far away. claimed that the baby really wanted to see me at that second.” megumi deadpans, earning laughs from the group of them.

“she did.” you respond, defensively.

megumi leans his arm against the back of where you’re sitting, twisting one of your locks of hair in his fingers. he looks over at the table to find an array of colorful ribbons on the table, which he’s sure is the culprit of your crying since the baby section at target always works you up.

“what’s that?” he asks.

“nobara and yuuji gifted us a ribbon set for the baby. we can use it when tsumiki’s hair gets long, do little ponytails in her hair and put cute little ribbons in them.” you respond.

megumi can feel his throat constricting at the thought of it, the wave of emotions that have been resurfacing lately reaching his cheeks. he gives gojo a look and you a kiss on the cheek, before he stands up and heads to the kitchen, focused on brewing a cup of coffee for himself.

you frown as you watch him walk away, nobara and yuuji halfheartedly asking him if he’s okay as he waves them off. you turn to gojo, giving him an inquisitive look, as gojo places ash in between nobara and yuuji.

“is he okay?” you whisper.

“let me talk to him first.” he responds, giving you a reassuring smile. you watch gojo run off behind him, the two of them leaning against the counter as they talk in hushed voices.

“it’s the ribbons isn’t it?” gojo asks, watching ash play rock paper scissors with an overly enthusiastic yuuji from afar.

megumi doesn’t respond, instead focusing on stirring the spoon through the coffee he freshly brewed.

of course, it’s the ribbons.

after gojo took tsumiki and megumi in, megumi made it a point to not ask gojo for much. a facet of his childhood stubbornness, of course. though gojo was more than willing to throw his money in any direction, megumi was in no part receptive to that. except in april, when tsumiki’s birthday came around.

after watching her stare at ribbons in windows as they passed, complimenting strangers on the train on how pretty ribbons looked in ponytails, megumi made it a point that when he could, he would buy them for her. god forbid, she would never get them for herself.

so he asked gojo, awkwardly knocked on his door well after bedtime and shyly asked. and of course, gojo never disappoints, buying every color, array, fabric of ribbons for tsumiki to wear in her hair to school now. and he watched her do it a hundred times - the satisfied smile she gave herself in the mirror every time it fell perfectly before walking away.

and the thought of watching his daughter, being the one putting the ribbons in her hair and getting that little smile on her face, is too much for megumi at the current moment.

“don’t ask dumb questions, gojo.” he responds.

he turns around to face the same way as gojo now, watching the four of you have the most intense rock paper scissors battle he’s seen yet. granted, you’re all letting ash win but trying to predict his moves gets more difficult as time goes on.

“did y/n tell you what we’re naming her?” megumi asks.

“no.”

“tsumiki.” he responds, not missing the soft smile on gojo’s face.

gojo smiles, squeezing megumi’s shoulder. one of the nice things about megumi becoming a father is that he finally understands gojo’s frustrations. of what it feels like to see your kids in pain and not being able to do anything about it.

“not my idea, by the way. all y/n.”

gojo focuses in on you, on how you look over and give megumi a big smile which he returns, before focusing back on ash.

“i guess these things always have a way of working themselves out, megumi.”

“what do you mean?”

gojo inhales, twisting his sunglasses in his fingers before placing them in his pocket.

“tsumiki always had a way of reading your mind. every time you and i would argue, she was always the one who soothed you down and not me. i-i was never really good at that. and you lost her but you got y/n. and she does it for you now. ash does too. i-it just worked out megs, that’s all.”

and megumi looks over - at his sun, his star boy, and soon to be the most precious thing he’s ever had. and he knows that gojo is right. That he’s been letting things happen lately, because that insurmountable heaviness that’s been on his chest for years has finally been lifted. that it’s there, but he can breathe through it now.

not that he would ever tell gojo. he'll just enjoy a donut with his coffee instead.

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

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ladymostdeject · 4 months

Text

Vox - Pre-flatscreen

Are you writing about Vox, pre-flatscreen, but you’ve never seen a CRT screen before in your life because you are A BABY CHILD (affectionate)?

Come gather round, sit upon my knee, and listen to this elder-millennial tell you all about it. (if you want to I guess, I'm not the boss of you).

CRT’s don’t glitch the way we see Vox do in the show, but they had all sorts of ways to go wrong. If you flipped to a channel where there was nothing broadcast, you’d get solid static or those multicolor bars we see Vox with.

But also, if a channel had bad reception, you’d get a little static over the top and sometimes the image would distort. We called this “snow/ a snowy channel.”

Sometimes you could get better reception if you fiddled with the antenna a little. Sometimes grabbing the antenna made the channel better, and then letting go made it worse! Because your body became the new antenna!

I’d like to introduce you to something even before my time: Test patterns!

TV didn’t used to run 24/7! At the end of the day, the network would “sign off”, say good night, play the star-spangled banner, and end with a test pattern. Later, test patterns looked like colored bars, but early ones in the 50’s and 60’s looked like this!

One of my FAVORITE things about CRT’s is when they had been on for a while, if you ran your hand across the glass, a very gentle static would crackle wherever you were touching, and could make your hair on your arm stand up. Tell me that doesn’t have fic applications, my friends!

You can HEAR a CRT when it is on, even if nothing is playing. It’s a very high pitched whine.

I cannot explain to you how nice it felt to change channels with a dial. They were heavy metal, and there was resistance, and a very satisfying click!

If you held a magnet up to the screen you’d get crazy rainbow color distortions, but if you left it too long you’d get those color distortions permanently burned into the screen.

youtube

CRT’s are VERY heavy in the front, where the glass is, and MUCH lighter in the back where there's empty space.

CRT’s don’t have fans (only vents), or processors (they only receive, there’s nothing to process!) What they do have is something called an electron gun and vacuum tubes! This is what their insides look like:

But, Lady, you say, how do they work? I don’t know! Ask this guy!

youtube

Other things to consider:

The word Podcast didn’t exist until 2004, and I'd never heard it until 2013 or so (who even taught Alastor this word????) I remember the first time I heard it, and I needed someone to explain to me what it was.

Emails weren’t widespread until the 90s. If Vox is communicating with his employees via text, and it’s pre-1990, the word you’re probably looking for is “Memo” which were literal sheets of paper people could send each other via an in-house courier.

If I’ve forgotten anything, please feel free to add on!

#radiostatic #staticmoth #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #staticradio #onewaybroadcast #I am NOT being critical btw #I love you fic writers #thank you for your service #I'm just always fascinated by the way things USED to be even before my time and trying to share the joy #lady talks #Youtube

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fandoms--fluff · 7 months

Note

Hi I know that I ask for so many hope big sister, but is a cutest thing to read so I am wondering if you can do other of hope big sister Where their parents ask her to babysit her six months old sister

Little Princess

Baby female Mikaelson reader x Hope Mikaelson (+ Klaus and Hayley)

Warnings: none

A/n: Hayley and Klaus are together in this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mom, we'll be fine. Nothing will happen" Hope tells Hayley. She's holding you secure against her chest as you suck on the yellow soother in your mouth. "Are you sure? Because we can always get one of your aunts to come over" Hayley asks one more time, worried.

Hayley and Klaus had asked Hope to babysit you while they go out for the night.

"Yes I'm sure, go have fun" Hope sighs, she's been convincing your guys' mom and dad that you'll both be fine being left alone for a couple hours.

"Alright, sweetheart. We'll be home before 11" Klaus kisses Hope's forehead, then the top of your head. Klaus holds a coat up to Hayley, helping her put it on.

"Bye, Sweetie" Hayley looks at Hope and then at your form snuggled into her. "Bye," Hope smiles and holds one of your arms up, waving your hand. You giggle as your big sister waves your hand before she sets it carefully back to yourself

They walk towards the door, before walking out the door, Hayley looks back, sadness in her eyes.

"It's okay, Love. Nothing will happen to our girls" Klaus whispers into her ear, before closing the door.

Hope walks over to the door and locks it, before turning back around and walking up the stairs to her room with you.

"Time for some sister time" She nuzzles softly into your tiny strands of hair. You giggle quietly and cuddle closer responding to her.

She sits on her bed, resting you in her lap as she grabs the fluffy throw blanket from the other side of her bed. She carefully wraps it around you both, not wanting to wrap it around you too tight and accidentally suffocate you.

You suckle on your pacifier as you watch your big sister grab something off her nightstand and place it in front of where you're sitting on her lap on the comforter.

The title reads Cinderella. "This is a story about a beautiful ordinary girl who becomes a princess. A princess just like you. My princess" Hope tells you, kissing the top of your head then opens the picture book.

She starts reading the book, doing different voices for each of the characters. Three quatres of the way through the book, you start to doze off. Your head leans against Hope's chest as your half-lidded eyes try to keep focusing on the pictures in the book without closing.

But soon, you succumb to sleep. When Hope realizes you have fallen asleep, she closes the book and gently places it back on her nightstand.

She adjusts you so your curled up against her chest with her hand on your back as she lays down in her bed.

With her other hand, she holds it up and takes a couple pictures of the two of you. She smiles at the photos and saves them to the file she has for pictures of you.

For the rest of the night she just scrolls through her phone and texts Josie. She hasn't told your guys' parents or anyone about their relationship quite yet. Well, unless if telling you counts. But it most likely doesn't becuase you have no idea what's she talking about 90% of the time.

When Klaus and Hayley get back home from their date, they call out for Hope. When there's no call back, Hayley starts up the stairs, Klaus behind her. Hayley checks your room, but you're not in your crib.

Before she can start to panic, Klaus pulls her away from her thoughts and motions her to come over to where he's standing in Hope's doorway.

The picture she sees when she goes over is adorable. Hope obviously fell asleep while on her phone, it being a couple centimeters from where her right hand is. Her other hand is still rested on your small back. Both of you are fast asleep, dead to the world as of right now.

Hayley leans into Klaus's side when he holds out his arm, and wraps it around her shoulders. "See, needn't worry about them. They've got each other" Klaus whispers and places a chaste kiss on Hayleys head.

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wileys-russo · 9 months

Note

stanway x reader where r is basically the back up cdm for england, only really plays that last few minutes of games if any so when keira gets injured at the wc, r freaks out because they have to go on and then play after until keira is back. maybe have georgia trying to comfort and hype up r before and then in one of the games where r plays the full 90, r makes like a big game saving tackle and georgia is super proud and happy for r after (you’re like carrying the woso fics on this app rn so thank you!)

crucial touch II g.stanway

"babe i'll be lucky to even see the pitch this tournament, i'm the back ups backup and i know that. i knew it when i accepted the call up!" you smiled at your girlfriend who frowned back at you from where she stood at the end of your bed.

"but i'm just sayin maybe if ya just talk to sarina and make your case you could get a start!" georgia pushed, knocking your legs apart and crawling up the bed to sit herself between them looking down at you.

"are you telling me to go behind your best mates back to try and get a start over her? harsh." you whistled teasingly, panic flashing across your girlfriends face as she stammered out that wasn't what she meant.

"gee! baby relax, i'm only teasing." you laughed, sitting up and grabbing her hands to still her.

"i love you and i appreciate you going to bat for me but i promise i am just happy to be here. would minutes under the belt be amazing? of course. but is being in australia, training with the squad and being with some of my best friends and girlfriend every day also amazing? yes!" you squeezed her hands with a smile of assurance, frown still dented into her features.

"but you've had such a great season and moved to the european league baby and-" "no more buts, i'm not going out of my way to plead for minutes with sarina. i trust that she always knows whats best for the team, that was well proven in the euros and i felt so much pride even just watching from the stands." you'd torn your hamstring mid last season which had unfortunately meant you weren't fit for squad selection, but despite how hard it was at times to watch your friends and wish you were in their position you learnt a whole new set of valuable lessons.

"babe i promise i am okay." you continued when once again your girlfriend opened her mouth to argue, finally giving in with a sigh and a nod.

"georgia!" you laughed as she pushed you back down onto the bed and flopped her body on top of you. "m'tired baby, lets cuddle and have a nap." the girl patted your head as her own settled on your stomach and your hands threaded her hair tugging it out of the bun it once was.

"what happened to going to watch the sunset before dinner?" "well, it rises and sets every day doesn't it? i'll take ya tomorrow."

"did she just say its her knee?" you whispered to lotte who was sat beside you, eyes flashing with the same fear you knew was conveyed in your own as she nodded. "shit." you mumbled, biting your lip nervously as the medics rushed on toward keira.

your leg bounced anxiously as they called for a stretcher, your stomach falling as sarina gestured for laura to start warming up as one of the coaching staff hurried over to run her through the plays.

all of you on the bench sent smiles to keira as she was stretchered off and disappeared down the tunnel, the sub made official as laura ran on and everyone tried to shake off what happened.

"they could have given us a small break of time to reset, they're clearly shook up." you mumbled to lotte who hummed in agreement, both of you watching on with limbs locked tight in stress.

thankfully the girls scraped by taking the 1-0 win against denmark and you didn't think you'd ever held your breath as long as until that final whistle blew ending injury time and the game.

you walked in between ella and georgia as you did your lap, thanking the fans, but you could tell that despite the smiles on everyones faces nobody was thinking about the win and rather worrying for how keira was.

and in particular if the team would see yet another victim to that dreaded three letter curse.

despite keira thankfully not having done her acl, she was under forced rest and a careful rehab program, and wouldn't be playing in the next game against china.

knowing that your teammate was okay had eased the mounting tension within the team and after a bonding day at the local zoo everyone was in high spirits.

which was likely what lead to the following 6-1 domination over china a few days later, everyone in even better spirits that night which was filled with karaoke, dancing and cheese boards much to lottes delight.

things took a more serious turn two days later at training when laura took a rather abrupt tackle from millie and headbutted the goal post, winding up with a concussion and with keira still not cleared to play that was how you found yourself sat across from sarina in one of the hotel meeting rooms.

she informed you'd not only be getting your first minutes of the tournament but would be in the starting eleven in tomorrow nights game. you had to ask her how to repeat herself making the dutch woman laugh and congratulate you, making a point to say she'd noticed that despite not playing you had still played a very crucial role within the team lifting morale.

still slightly in disbelief and pinching yourself with a sharp hiss you exited the room, making a beeline right towards your girlfriend who was mid darts game with niamh, ella and lucy.

with a wordless shake of your head you grabbed her hand, ignoring all of her questions and your friends teasing remarks behind you as you dragged her away from the game, staying silent right until the two of you were back in your room.

"baby whats goin on? you're bein very weird has somethin happened?" georgia asked for the tenth time, taking a seat on the edge of your bed as you shook your head and paced back and forth.

"oi, sit down and speak to me love ya gonna wear a hole in the carpet." georgia grabbed your hoodie and pulled you to stand between her legs, hands on the small of your back holding you there.

"i'm starting tomorrow." you blurted out with wide eyes, georgias own bugging nearly out of her head as her grip on you tightened. "you what!" she gasped out as you nodded firmly. "yeah, coombsy's still not cleared and neither is kei." you shook your head in disbelief.

"baby! you're starting in the fuckin world cup!" the breath was stolen from you as your girlfriend lovingly slammed you down onto the bed and jumped on top of you, kissing all over your face and mumbling how proud she was as you couldn't help but grin.

"wait!" you pushed her off and sat bolt upright. "what if i get injured? or i let in a goal? or i cause a penalty? or-" all of the worse case scenarios flew through your head, slamming around and around like a pinball machine.

"hey hey, stop that." georgia frowned, grabbing your face in her hands and forcing you to look at her. "you won't. you are so so brilliant, and hardworking, and passionate. it doesn't matter if this is your first start in a world cup or another match for bayern love, you tackle it the exact same way you enter any game. with your whole heart and ya head screwed on right!" georgia gently squeezed your cheeks and placed a tender kiss against your lips as you exhaled and collapsed into her.

"i'm starting tomorrow." "you're starting tomorrow, and you are gonna smash it baby."

the day of the match itself you were still a nervous wreck. word had spread of your start and in small groups all of the girls came over to congratulate and hype you up.

and as much as you appreciated each and every single one of them all of their hope and praise was just adding onto your existing nerves, which your girlfriend seemed to pick up on as she gently shooed everyone away, tucking you into her side at breakfast and changing the subject.

she made sure to sit beside you on the bus and walked you around the stadium for the pitch check with your fingers interlocked tightly with hers, swinging your hands together and distracting you with kisses when she noticed your mind start to wander.

right before warm ups your phone rang and you lit up seeing it was leah, you'd played with her for years at arsenal before taking the plunge to germany when both frankfurt and bayern came knocking.

so stepping out of the room the blonde gave you a stern talking to about believing in yourself and making the most of the opportunity the situation had presented you no matter how it came about.

and with that in mind you reset your headspace and tuned in, georgia sending leah a quick text thanking her as whatever was said worked as you now seemed your confident self when walking out for the line up.

unlike last match against china the game against nigeria was anything but easy. they were a fast and agile side and came out aggressive, so you did your best as a team to meet them like that but after a brutal 90 minutes it was still deadlocked at 0-0.

mary had been putting in a shift, everyone had, and with lj earning a red card you were down to 10 when they announced there would be extra time as a break was called and everyone huddled together on the sidelines.

sarinas words ringing in your ears you sucked up how much your body ached and readied yourself to go again, vowing to leave absolutely everything on the pitch as if it was the last game you ever played.

your chance came in the 118th minute as you missed a crucial tackle and one of the strikers snuck past you. you knew from watching her throughout the game where she'd likely shoot from so you diverted tactics.

you knew it was a risk but you had to trust your gut like always and sprinting down the length of the field on the opposite side your legs burned and ached but you just used that to spur yourself on.

sure enough it was a risk that paid off as the striker slotted the ball past mary who watched in horror as it slipped beneath her thigh and she crashed to the ground.

but you were there without even a millisecond to spare, the ball clipping the edge of your studs as you slid your body across goal and tapped it out earning them a corner but preventing the winning goal.

you only breathed once the referee signaled for nigeria to take their corner, your head slumping against the ground as you took a moment to reset and marys gloved hands hauled you up off the ground.

"you are a fucking superstar for that one mate." she grabbed your face and kissed your forehead with a loud mwah, brushing the grass off of you as you grinned and everyone set in for the corner which would be the last play of extra time.

your hands falling to lucy's waist you felt millies grab yours from behind, a defensive tactic which was yet to fail you as once again a goal was prevented with mary jumping to tap it over the top of the goal as the whistle blew yet again signalling the game would go to penalties.

you watched with baited breath, squished in between beth and millie as each kick was taken. you winced as your girlfriend missed, watching her face fall but sending her a reassuring nod and mouthing that you loved her.

beth, rach and chloe were next all sinking their kicks as chloes hit the back of the net with record speed and the stadium erupted into cheers, you'd done it and you lived to see another day, you'd won.

you raced right over to your girlfriend amid the celebrations who had the same idea, jumping onto her and wrapping your legs round her waist, both of you forgetting you'd just played over 120 minutes as her legs buckled and the two of you crashed to the ground.

"i am so so so fucking proud of ya!" georgia beamed, pressing her forehead against yours as you lay on the grass tangled up with one another. you were well aware of your surroundings but in her arms and by her side everything else slipped away, the two of you lost in one anothers eyes which shone with pride.

"can i kiss you?"

your girlfriend seemed taken aback by the question and your eyes widening you went to stand but your body locked up in surprise as her hand balled your jersey and tugged your lips to meet hers, neither one of you caring for a single moment what anyone thought.

in that triumphant moment all you had eyes for was each another.

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #georgia stanway x reader #woso imagine #woso blurbs #woso community #engwnt #georgia stanway

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mothandpidgeon · 1 month

Text

Making Out to Pablo Honey (virgin!Dieter Bravo x f!reader)

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

pairing: virgin!Dieter Bravo x f!reader

rating: E MDNI

summary: Dieter’s always tried to be cool. The thing about being cool, though, the more he tries, the less it works. You, on the other hand, you’re cool.

contents: virgin!Dieter, young!Dieter, lots of 90s references, cannabis, mentions of masturbation, fingering, premature ejaculating, one ferris bueller reference, reader is able bodied and not described physically moth never uses y/n.

This fic is about horny teens doing horny teen things. It's not too late to not read this if that's not ok with you.

wc: 2.5k

a/n: I'm thinking of this as a Dieter origin story. I really enjoyed thinking about him before he was the DIETER BRAVO. Anyway, this was kind of healing I wish I knew him back when I was in high school. Thanks @moonlitbirdie and @whocaresstillthelouvre for betaing and cheering me on!

“Sweet or salty?” you ask. Your head is buried in one of the kitchen cabinets, rummaging through a selection of snacks.

Dieter sits on the counter opposite, watching you with a lazy smile.

“Sweet,” he says. “No, wait. Salty.”

You look at him over your shoulder, your eyes bloodshot under heavy lids.

“You’re so stoned,” you giggle.

Dieter blushes. Despite the fact that he coughs after every hit, getting high with you after school has become his favorite past time. You never tease him for it, just put the joint between your lips while Dieter wonders if you can feel the warmth from his there. You’re both well and truly blazed at this point after smoking up in the dugout of the school's baseball field.

Dieter gazes over your body as you stand on tip toe, reaching for the top shelf. It’s like he can’t control his eyes from wandering to you when he’s like this. Sometimes you notice.

“What?” you’ll say. “You’re staring at me.”

“You’re paranoid,” he’ll lie.

He wishes he was brave enough to tell you that he’s staring because he thinks you’re beautiful.

It’s hard to believe that the two of you are actually friends now. He still remembers when you were assigned as his lab partner, a girl that he was equally drawn to and intimidated by.

Now he’s in your house after school almost every day.

“Honey?” your mother’s voice calls from the front door.

“Shit.” Dieter hops onto the floor before she enters the kitchen in a smart business outfit.

“Oh, hi, Dieter,” she says, smoothing the bottom of her hair.

“Hello, ma’am,” Dieter says.

You stifle a laugh.

“Dieter, you don’t have to call me ma’am,” your mother says.

“Um okay,” he replies. He can’t remember her first name. She’s told him before. Does he seem stoned? Oh, god, he definitely does.

She scrunches her nose.

“What’s that smell?” she asks.

Dieter’s stomach plummets. The two of you must reek of pot. He’s grown to like the scent– an earthy tang that now reminds him of you. He braces himself, trying to clear his foggy mind for a moment so he can’t act sober.

“Somebody must’ve run over a skunk,” you say. “What’re you doing home so early?”

You change the subject so seamlessly. Of course. Nothing ever seems to scare you.

“I’ve got a meeting with the Vermont people but I left the damn file here,” she says, picking a folder up from the kitchen table. “I’ll be back late if we close the deal.”

“Good luck,” you say.

Dieter bursts with laughter as your mother goes out the front door. You join him, nearly doubling over with your giggles.

“I was freaking out!” he tells you. “A skunk! I can’t believe she bought that.”

“I know, right? She’s clueless,” you chuckle. “Look.”

You hold up your creation— a plate bursting with flavor and texture. It’s organized into little piles of treats— potato chips, Oreos, a handful of glistening strawberries. Chocolate covered pretzels rest beside dried cranberries and several ropes of licorice separate honey roasted peanuts from fun sized Kit Kats in glossy red wrappers. It’s a feast, every bite he could ever want just when he wants it the most.

“Fuck,” he whispers as he takes in this offering.

Maybe it’s the pot buzzing around in his head but he can feel himself falling head over heels for you. He wants to kiss you but what if you don’t want to be kissed? What if you reject him? He could play it off as a joke like the one he told in the biology lab that got you to notice him for the first time. Humiliation he can handle but he’s not sure he could take that heartbreak.

The cookies are calling his name so he abandons any dreams of filling his mouth with your tongue in favor of a Nutter Butter.

There’s a big, L shaped couch in the basement that Dieter sprawls out on while he munches on the fruit. They might be the best strawberries he’s ever eaten. Everything tastes so good when he’s high. He wonders what you taste like.

“Do you like Radiohead?” you ask sorting through a pile of cassettes.

“Yeah. I love them,” he says. He’s only heard one of their songs on the radio but if you like them, he wants to like them, too.

Dieter’s always tried to be cool. He has a lot working against him— built like a string bean, a goofy personality. His own fucking name has betrayed him. He got the same haircut as Leonardo DiCaprio, he saved up to buy a pair of fancy sneakers, he spends hours in the mirror carefully choosing his outfits. The thing about being cool, though, the more he tries, the less it works.

You, on the other hand, you’re cool. Effortlessly so in your black boots and chipped nail polish. It’s not just the music you listen to or the clothes you wear. There’s something in your attitude, an aloof confidence that he’s never been able to replicate.

Despite his anxieties, you never make him feel judged. It seems like you enjoy introducing him to new things. You offered to make him a mixtape and it sent his heart fluttering. He’s shared a thing or two with you, too— leading you through the aisles of the local video store handing you his favorite obscure movies. Sometimes you laugh at his enthusiasm but it’s never mean spirited.

You pop the tape in and climb up onto the sofa as rough guitar strums seep through the speakers. There’s something psychedelic in the music that has Dieter sinking deeper into his seat.

Although there’s plenty of space, you sit alongside him, propping your feet up on the chaise beside his. Dieter’s pulse picks up. He’s so aware of you so close to him, each move of your muscles as you get comfortable. He can smell the pot tangled up in your hair and the fresh scent of cotton that always lingers on your clothes.

“I like being high,” Dieter sighs.

You laugh. He fucking loves the sound of it, wants to be a little clown to keep you giggling away.

“Give me a Kit Kat,” you say.

The snack plate is balanced on Dieter’s lap so when you fish through it for the candy, he can feel the pressure of your touch right on his dick. He stifles a groan, trying to focus his attention on the crinkle of the wrapper in your hands.

He’s touched himself to the thought of you more times than he’d like to admit. There was an incident when you unexpectedly brushed your ass against him at your locker and he popped a boner. He had to take care of it in the bathroom, one hand cupping the tip of his cock as he came so he didn’t make a mess.

“Dieter,” you say. His name sounds so sweet when you say it softly like that.

“Yeah,” he replies.

Some time in the last fifteen minutes, his mind wandered away and he got lost in the haze of his high. He can’t remember what he was thinking about before you got his attention or how long he’s been out of it. There’s just a warm feeling in his head and every once in a while he remembers that you’re sitting right next to him and he smiles to himself and then he floats away again.

“You’re staring at me,” you say.

You’re close, laying on the same couch cushion, your face just inches from his own. You have pretty eyes. Maybe that’s what he’s been looking at. Or your hair. He likes your hair.

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. There’s no denying it this time.

Your lips curl into a smile and your eyes dance over his features. He feels himself leaning towards you like his head is too heavy to fight your magnetic pull.

Your noses brush, that’s when he realizes that you’re moving towards him, too. Both of you hesitate there, an acknowledgement of this point of no return— your friendship will never be the same.

You kiss him. At first it’s a cautious meeting of lips and, suddenly, a crash of passion and excitement. It’s sloppy and unchoreographed but the two of you find a rhythm. He can taste the chocolate in your kiss.

You climb onto his lap, sliding your hands beneath his shirt. Having all of you there, straddling him like he’s in his own wet dream, is overwhelming. Blood rushes to his cock. There’s so much of you to explore— soft places to touch and hold and taste. He wants all of you all at once and you seem just as eager.

Your mouth roams his neck and teeth rake against his earlobe as you rock over the bulge in his jeans. He’s so sensitive from the weed, he can practically feel the hot drag of your pussy even through the layers between you.

Dieter fumbles with the clasp of your bra and you knock his hands away to do it for him, then unbutton your pants and do the same for him. He keeps his mouth on yours as you pull off his shirt with eager kisses.

He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your panties. He’s met with the slick lips of your pussy giving him a delicious shiver. You gasp and sink your teeth into his bottom lip.

Now your hand finds him, coating his length with precum and tugging.

“Oh god,” he chokes. He wills himself not to finish right there in your hand.

Dieter presses a finger into your entrance, slow and cautious, watching your expression for any signs of discomfort. You’re so tight, he can’t imagine the crush of it around him. The strokes on his cock stutter and slow as he thrusts deeper until eventually your limp hand simply holds him. He doesn’t care. The feeling of you is addicting, all slippery and inviting.

“Ow,” you complain.

“Is this ok?” Dieter asks.

“Don’t just finger me,” you complain.

He blanches, unsure of how to correct himself. If you want more, he’s more than willing to give it to you but it has nerves churning in his belly.

“I’ve never done it,” Dieter says.

He immediately wishes he could take the words and swallow them back down. His neck burns with embarrassment. The coolest girl he’s ever met is letting him in her pants and he just spoiled it all by admitting he’s a virgin.

You stare at him with big, round eyes, your lips swollen from kissing. Your adam’s apple bobs in your throat.

“Me either,” you tell him.

It’s Dieter’s turn to stare. He’s shocked. It seems like you’ve done everything already. At least, everything a high school senior would aspire to do.

If you were embarrassed to tell him that, you don’t let it linger for long. “That wasn’t what I meant,” you say. “It just— I don't think I can come that way.”

Dieter nods in awe. This isn’t the first time he’s gone to third base but he hadn’t felt very sure of his technique during those few encounters. You look a little nervous, maybe for the first time ever, but he’s so impressed you’re confident enough to tell him what you want, to even know. He wants to give you exactly what you need.

“Show me,” he says. “Show me what you like.”

Your pupils blow out and Dieter’s not sure which one of you is more aroused. Eventually you regain yourself, nodding quickly and climbing off of his lap so you can shimmy your pants all the way off.

Dieter can’t help but stare at all the parts of you that are exposed. You’re so pretty he can hardly believe he gets to touch you. His cock throbs at the sight and he fists himself before realizing that he’d better stop if he wants to last more than half a minute.

You lay back on the couch, parting your bent legs for Dieter. He sits up for a good view as you explain the secrets of the universe. You take his hand and guide his fingers to your pussy, carefully sliding them along the side of your clit. It’s velvety soft and warm and slick and you take in a sharp breath. His cock jumps. Again, a wet stroke over you. You set a pace, your hand around his as he makes you melt.

“Woah,” he whispers to himself as he watches your body respond.

He’s not sure where to look; at the glistening lips of your pussy, a rare glimpse at the opposite sex in real life or at your face, eyes closed and brow knit as you float in ecstasy. It’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen.

He forgets the throbbing between his own legs, entranced by your pleasure. Your grip around his hand slackens and Dieter experiments with slightly faster strokes, kissing your neck. Your pulse thrums under his lips, your whines vibrating.

As he gathers more slick from your entrance, you grind your clit into the heel of his hand. Your hips lift from the wet patch that’s growing beneath you. Dieter keeps his hand planted on you, giving you all the friction you need.

He tries to find a way to tell you to use him, to take what you need, but he’s speechless. Watching a girl get off on him, and not just any girl but you, feels like witnessing a miracle.

Your muscles tighten, every single tendon in your body wrapped up like a rubber band about to snap. He can’t help himself. Dieter slides a finger inside of you. It feels even better than before, now that your walls are coated in that sweet release.

That’s when it crashes over you. You lock up, your arms and thighs straining. He can feel your core tensing around him desperately and he thinks he might cum just from the sight of you like this. It’s not like he’s seen in porn. You’re quiet, focused, somewhere else and he wants to go there, wherever that planet of pleasure might be.

He wants to kiss you, to taste your release and bury his face in your tits but he doesn’t dare move and ruin this exquisite moment for you. So he keeps moving with the same steady tempo as you flutter around him.

You groan out his name, long and slow and it sounds like music.

Dieter feels his hips jerk and, oh fuck, he’s cumming. He tears his hand away from you to squeeze it over his spasming cock. It’s too late and the wet press of you coated on his fingers doesn’t help. He paints his torso with his own warm, sticky spend.

You stare, eyes wildly surveying the mess on his belly, still dazed as you come down.

He should be mortified that he just blew his load all over himself the very first time he’s gotten physical with you but his veins are coursing with bliss. His head falls back, chest heaving as he catches his breath.

“I really like you,” he says.

Your face breaks out in a smile and you bashfully bite your lip. He feels your fingers intertwine with his own.

“Yeah. I like you too,” you say.

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and my asks are always open!

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x f!reader #young!dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #virgin!dieter bravo

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