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moonstruckme · 10 months ago

Note

Heyy:)💞could I request something in which reader is a virgin and she’s afraid of her first time and like unsure if she feels ‘ready’ for it but also doesn’t want to come of as prude and the character you’re writing for just comforts her and tells her it’s fine🌞Any character you’re writing for would be fine!!:))) have a great dayyy🫶

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!

cw: smut mdni, oral (fem recieving), virgin reader

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 958 words

Steve’s hands are strong and warm on your waist, dipping lower. You roll your hips against his, and the sound that emerges from him is half-moan, half-laugh. He kisses you dizzy.

“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at your back pocket.

“Yeah,” you say without thinking.

You trust Steve. You haven’t been dating long, but you can tell he’s a good guy. He has a tendency to act overconfident and then backtrack immediately, which he says he’s working on. He’s genuine when it counts. Nice to you in all the ways that matter.

It’s not until your jeans hit the floor, where Steve’s shirt already lies, that you start to think about the implications of losing those bits of clothing. Whether or not you want them.

Steve grabs big handfuls of your ass, your flesh pudging between his fingers. He flips you over.

You giggle at the suddenness of it, and he drinks in the sound happily, lips curving over yours. You press kiss after kiss after kiss into his mouth, giddy and lost in him. After a while, he dips his head to move his attentions to your neck. Your breaths become gaspy, head tilting sideways to grant him better access as your eyes flutter closed.

You don’t even notice his hand moving until his fingers wiggle under the waistband of your panties.

You go still. Then try to relax again. Try to embrace it. His fingers slide over your folds, already slicked, while his thumb searches for your clit. He finds it, circling tantalizingly. You try to get lost again. It’s not hard. Soon you’re panting, tangling your hand in Steve’s hair as his mouth sponges over your pulse. He slips one thick finger into you, then two. Scissoring.

You try to make your voice sound casual as can be.

“What’re you doing?”

“Opening you up.” The words are mumbled against your skin, matter-of-fact. “M’gonna get you ready, don’t worry.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“Whoa, hey,” Steve laughs. “Relax for me. You okay?”

You hesitate, and his fingers still inside you, thumb slowing on your clit.

“Hey.” He sits up, looking down at you. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m not sure if—if I want—”

“Oh, oh my god.” He slips his fingers out, wiping his hand on his sheets. His other hand twitches like it wants to touch your face, but he stops it before it gets there, setting it on the bed beside your head. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume…anything.”

“No, you’re good.” You try to laugh it off. “I’m being dumb. We can keep going.”

You tip your chin upward, kissing him. Steve doesn’t take the cue.

“I don’t want to do anything you don’t want,” he says, sitting up a bit more, putting more distance between you. You lie back on the mattress and fight the urge to cover your face with your hands. “If you don’t feel like it, that’s cool.”

You rub your lips together. They’re still tingling. “It’s not that I don’t feel like it,” you try to explain. “It’s just that I’m not sure…I don’t know if I’m ready.” You cringe. “It feels stupid to say it.”

Steve’s eyebrows twitch together. “Ready for…?”

You give him a deadpan look, and his expression clears.

“Oh. Whoa, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

You shrug. “I didn’t tell you.”

“Yeah…” He seems a bit shell-shocked. “Why did you say we could keep going? Do you want to?”

Your eyes fall thoughtlessly to where Steve’s hand rests just below your navel, your underwear a soppy mess behind it. “I don’t know,” you admit.

Steve nods like he understands, though he still looks confused. “Well, we shouldn’t do anything unless you know for sure.”

You look at him, guilt like concrete clogging your insides. “Really? You don’t think I should just get it over with?”

“What?” His face screws up. “No. Honey,” —He’s never called you that before. You melt a little— “you should want to have sex. If you’re not sure, you’re not sure. That’s fine.” You search in his tone for any hint of sarcasm or bitterness but come up empty. His hand drifts over to your hip, running the length of it. “You’re not asking because you think I want to, are you?”

It’s a silly, hypocritical stab of hurt, but it hurts nonetheless. “You don’t?”

“No, I do,” Steve says hastily. “Obviously I do. Just, that’s not a good enough reason for you to do it. And I don’t want you to get it over with, that’s for sure.”

He says the last bit wryly, glancing away from your face like he’s barely restraining an eye-roll, and you laugh. He looks back at you, grinning. Pleasantly surprised.

“I mean, it wouldn’t really reflect on you if I was getting it over with,” you say, but Steve scoffs.

“Fuck yeah it would. Sex with me should be magical, babe,” he tells you, kissing your chin firmly. “Sparks flying and butterflies and all that. The whole fireworks show.”

“Oh, you’re selling it now.”

“Not,” he does roll his eyes this time, kissing the corner of your mouth, “my intent. You tell me when you feel ready, and then I’ll start advertising, but until then don’t worry about it.” He catches your eye, and his are searching even as he raises his eyebrows playfully. “I can still give you the fireworks show other ways, if you want me to.”

You blink. “Really?”

Steve blinks harder. “Yeah! Jesus, your expectations of me are so low. Give me a little credit.” He presses kisses to your mouth, your chin, trailing down your throat, his blessed hand making its way back towards your heat. “Just sit tight, let me get you warmed up again.”

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luveline · 1 year ago

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𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you start to second guess your relationship when eddie doesn't waylay you with his usual abundance of kisses after work. meanwhile, eddie tries to work out what's upsetting you, how to fix it, and most urgently, how to ask you a super important question. fem!reader, 5k

cw: eddie skipping meals at work, suggestive flirting

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

Eddie's borrowed headphones slip down your head as you dance. Nothing dramatic, a shoulder wiggle as you do the dishes. You can't hear the racket you're making, plates crashing into one another on the drying rack, the hot water pounding the basin, the clip of your sock-clad foot against wooden slats as you tap it.

Your hands burn at the high temperature. Your fingertips are pruned, palms chapped as you finish washing Eddie's mountain of dishes. His whole apartment was in similar disarray before you arrived, laundry to the eyes and one of his haphazard book towers collapsed in the bedroom. The dishes had been scraped and rinsed but not washed, the laundry designated to one corner of the bathroom; Eddie's not unclean, necessarily, but unfocused.

You had time. You don't mind coming over to help him out.

Though if he knew you were here doing this he'd blow a gasket. I don't want you wasting your time doing shit I should've done a week ago, he'd say.

It isn't time that matters to you. You'd take a couple of days out if it helped him, if it meant he could enjoy the place he lives to the fullest extent. Plus, you spend time here too. And you get to borrow his Walkman the whole time. Eddie has the best tapes.

You hum along to the finishing line of the song and set the last clean cup upside down on the draining board. Satisfied at a job well done, you wipe the sink basin clean, drain suds from the sponge, and turn off the water. Cool air floats in through the open window, kissing your lightly perspiring skin hello.

You dry your hands on a cloth and push Eddie's headphones carefully down to your neck, more than careful with his things. He works hard for everything he has, days and nights and any shift they want him to take. Most of it goes into his savings account. His spare change gets dropped into a washed out pasta sauce jar on the sill for a forthcoming rainy day. Ridiculous amounts of it get spent on you, and if you asked Eddie he'd say it was perfectly reasonable, sweetheart.

You're not asking him. You don't think new clothes and sweet treats nearly every time you see him counts as reasonable, but you'd be a liar if you said you didn't appreciate it.

Hence your unsanctioned use of his spare key. You buy him treats too, but money can't buy the satisfaction of a clean home. (Well, it could. Hiring a day maid might've been quicker and cleaner in the end, but would a day maid have put their heart and soul into dusting his figurines with a makeup brush for fifteen minutes?)

You turn around with Eddie on your mind, feeling grateful and tired at once. Your thoughts stutter at the warm body standing casually in the doorway, his shoulder pressed to the jam, a rucksack and a carabiner of keys hanging from his curled fingers.

"Hey," Eddie says.

You flinch like he's coming at you, startled by his sudden appearance.

His laugh is apologetic, at least. "Woah! I thought you heard me, where's your head?"

You slap a hand to your racing heart and huff out a breath that fans up your face. Eddie straightens from his cool guy slouch, dropping his keys on the counter and sliding his bag beside them.

"It's around here somewhere," you say through a smile, trying and failing to glare at him as he puts his hands on your waist. "You scared me bad."

"It was accidental."

He pulls your hips to his and leans back. A close pressure without being particularly sexual. It's obvious that he's looking you over, like you might've miraculously run into harm in the sixteen hours you've been apart.

"I didn't think you'd be back yet, sorry," you say breathlessly, still recuperating from your scare.

"I'm the sorry one."

He brings a hand to your face. If there's one thing you can count on with your boyfriend, it's that he's going to find an excuse to touch your face at least once a day, whether it be with the back of a ring-heavy finger trailing down your cheek lightly, or a flat, hot palm, calluses scratching ever so slightly as he squeezes it into whatever shape he feels like. Never cruel, but melding.

He's in a mood.

Not salacious. Teasing at most, he pulls a rough line down from the corner of your eye to your lips.

"Why are you doing my dishes?" he asks.

His hands smell like citrus scrub and white vinegar. They must've had him cleaning in the kitchen at work again.

"So you wouldn't have to. I know you don't mean to let them pile up."

"I'll find my laundry in the dryer, I'm guessing."

"Nope. Folded in your dresser, more like."

He pulls your chest to his, the heat of his breath kissing your nose. It smells like the spearmint gum he chews obsessively during his morning shifts. Eddie has a theory that eating in the mornings is breaking a seal —you'll be much hungrier for the rest of the day than you would've been otherwise. Better to wait for lunch.

You hate his theory (three meals a day plus as many snacks as he needs would be perfect, if he could find the time) and his gum for what it represents. It reminds you that he likely hasn't eaten today, and you're quick to start brainstorming ideas for dinner from the ingredients you'd seen while cleaning. He has ground beef, enough eggs to make pasta, and a tupperware of frozen soup from last Wednesday. The world's your oyster.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks. You don't have time to answer. "I wish you didn't do all the laundry, babe. Those stairs are a fucking killer."

He leans that last inch. A kiss is coming any second now, your pulse capering between your ears. A hundred kisses shared between you and you wait for the next with the same calibre of excitement as you did for the first.

"I owe you a deep tissue massage, right?" he murmurs.

You beam at him, pushing the heel of your palm against his chest to widen the distance between you into something a little less heart-pounding. "You haven't eaten today, have you?"

"I'm pretty hungry," he says, his voice smooth as angora silk.

He looks, again, like he might kiss you. His eyes dip to your lips, a molten brown shining in the kitchen light. You wait, and you wait, but he doesn't close the gap.

You push your smile to one side, your eyelashes twined in the corners from the force of it. Your smile isn't entirely genuine. It's cool if he doesn't wanna kiss you… sort of. He can do whatever he likes, of course, you'd never force him to kiss you just to keep you happy or for any other reason, but you're a little down at the idea that he doesn't want to. You love how they feel. You're used to them as both hello and goodbye.

Eddie might not want to kiss you, but he isn't putting on a show, his amorous smirking a reality you battle with (read: give in to, enjoy, daydream about) on the regular. Perhaps he isn't eager to ravish you after a full day bussing tables. That's more than okay.

However he might be feeling, you aren't going to let him go hungry a minute longer. "Dinner?" you ask.

"I was thinking sloppy Joes," he says, his hand running down your arm. He turns for the fridge. You follow. "Brioche buns?"

You step in front of him, the fridge door a cacophony of glass rattling as you tug it open. "I'm making them."

Eddie wraps his arms around you, moving you bodily to the side. It's too quick for you to dig your heels in.

"You used to be a gentleman," you complain.

"No, I didn't." He taps your ankle with the rubber toe of his converse.

You make dinner together, to each other's chagrin. Eddie steals spatulas and frying pan handles from your grip. You bump his hip away from the stove grill to toast buns. When you sit down together on the couch, it's at war, elbows digging into soft spots and cups placed out of reach on the coffee table.

"Dick," you say.

Eddie takes a bite, says, "You're the dick, dick," and starts shovelling fries onto your plate. "Giving me more fries is ridiculous. We should eat the same portions, we're the same age."

"But one of us had breakfast and lunch, and one of us didn't," you say, using your fork to give his gifted fries straight back.

And here's where you get the first inkling that something's making him not want to kiss you, emphasis on you.

Eddie loves kissing you when he feels loved. For obvious starters, whenever you tell him you love him he makes sure to kiss your lips. When you make him laugh, when you wash his hair in the shower, when you draw stars into his palms, all those things garner a fond peck to the temple. He kisses the space just under your ear so often you're sure there's a contusion in the shape of his mouth there, permanent and purpling, his go-to whenever he's laying on top of you or hugging you from behind.

You can count on a mildly greasy kiss no matter the meal. Eddie loves eating dinner together. He waits for you to get home, sometimes for hours, to share a plate with you. You've never not indulged him with a kiss. Tonight, he doesn't ask.

It would be here. Name-calling dripping in affection, you elbow glancing off of his as you cut into your sloppy Joe, and the TV failing to cover the sound of a quick kiss before he digs in. You're gutted at the lack and surprised to have noticed it, but you don't go so far as to mourn the loss: Eddie's likely too hungry to think about kissing, that's all. Right?

Despite attempts to convince you otherwise, he's hungry. He finishes his plate in what feels like five big bites, hair tucked behind his ears, an innocent but far off look about him as he wipes his fingers in a piece of kitchen towel and leans back into the couch cushions with a small groan.

"We should stop eating on the couch," he says.

"You told me you wanted to sit here." You're confused.

"It's like, testing fate. I'm a mess. I'll ruin it and have to get a new one I can't afford."

You chew on a fry. "I mean," —you put your hand over your mouth, pleased when he turns to you with a ready-made smile, like the act of just looking at you is one he enjoys— "even if you drop something on it, we can Didi Seven it. Or get one of those fancy water vacuum things."

"It's my couch," he says. "You wouldn't have to clean it."

"You're my boyfriend," you respond, "so I wouldn't mind."

"I'm your boyfriend," he says, his head tilted ever so slightly to one side.

His lips close, his eyes tracking up and along the lines of your features with an unnameable emotion in his gaze. You'd like to say that it's love, but you're starting to think it's something else.

"Don't say it like that. You sound too unsure," you say.

Amusement dances across his face. "Are you finished?" he asks, opening his hand for your tray.

"No," you say, faux-stroppy. You take another fry.

Eddie grabs his tray. He skirts around your legs and stops at your side. In his more dopey moods, he'd take your face into his hand again and hold your head still as he kisses your crown.

He squeezes your shoulder. "I'm not unsure about anything," he says warmly. "I'll get you a drink, yeah? Ice?"

A chuck under the chin with his forefinger and he's gone, leaving you sitting there wondering what's wrong with him. Home an hour now and not one single kiss? Is this the end of the honeymoon phase? How do people survive this shit, you think. It's agonising.

Your chewing turns morose.

You and Eddie go through phases, waxing and waning, as most people do. There's always love there, but sometimes there's so much of it you don't know what to do with yourself besides lavish in it. Only yesterday morning he'd been in your bed, shirtless (as you often wish he'd be), dark ink like bruises in the low light where it climbed the lengths of his arms and his bare chest. You were lax under his touch, his nose and lips pressing to your skin as he kissed you from rib to soft tummy. Slow, kissing you as though he had nowhere else to be but there. As though his next shift wasn't thirty minutes around the corner.

You were mortified when he blew a raspberry. Now you're thinking you might peel out of your shirt and ask him to do it again if it means he'll kiss you in any definition.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks as he returns, his hand sliding along from your shoulder to the other while he steps over your legs.

"What are you thinking about?" you ask.

"Feeling very repetitive today, are we?" he teases, no consideration for your dinner tray as he collapses into the seat beside you.

You're expecting his cheek on your shoulder, his hair tickling your upper arm. It doesn't come. Worried he's discouraged by your tray, you place it on the coffee table and sit back. You really want him to kiss you.

Kissing someone isn't something you thought you'd want to do before you met Eddie. To be kissed, sure. To give a chaste peck, absolutely. But to have someone put their weight on you, to press at the seam of your lips with their own and to wade in like a steady wave, one breath at a time, until you're unsure where the boundary of your mouth begins and his ends, that was all new. Eddie kisses like he loves, loud and brash, rough and eager. Gentle when he needs to be but arduous.

He makes you feel wanted in a thousand ways and the first is his greedy penchant for stealing a kiss or three at every opportunity. It's weird that he hasn't kissed you yet. He's acting weird.

"You're being super weird," you say. You feel like a pressure cooker with steam pouring from the release valve.

Eddie smirks at you. "That so? Any explanation attached to that, or are we name-calling? I have some names for you, if we are."

"Oh, I have to know."

"Figured you would." He throws his leg over your thigh. The firm muscle of it tenses as he wiggles his foot.

"What were you gonna call me?" you prompt impatiently.

"Sweetheart. Angel." He turns his cheek into the back of the couch, bringing his pinky to your face and drawing a line from the smoothest skin under your eye outward. "Pretty. Very pretty."

"Says you," you murmur. If he thinks you're so pretty, why won't he kiss you? "I can't work out your angle today."

"Am I acting differently?" he asks, seemingly unperturbed.

No. He just hasn't kissed you. There might have been a moment when he first came home where you thought he was hesitating to kiss you, but since then he's acted exactly as he usually does (minus kissing, therefore making it unusual).

You sigh, half serious and half wanton sadness. "No." His nose twitches. You startle. "What?"

"Nothing."

"What, do I have bad breath?" you ask, bringing a hurried palm to your mouth to try and test it.

Eddie pulls your hand down, admonishing through a laugh, "You obviously don't. You know I'd tell you, babe."

"Oh."

"I got gum though, if you want it."

You bat his chest. "I bet you do… I don't know what it is, then. I give up."

"What's what?" he asks. He takes a curl of his hair around a painted fingernail. It coils on his finger, where he pinches the end, bringing it up to your chin and drawing a smile under your lips with the tip.

"I… do I have something in my teeth? A zit? What's the issue?" you ask, lost.

"There's no issue!" He laughs, and he curves his hand gently around your neck. "Why do you think there's an issue?" he asks. A thread of his voice wavers. Impossible to notice if you didn't know everything about him, down to the stray hair.

"No, because," —your voice shrinks— "you're being off with me." You won't cry, but it's impossible to stop the doubt that seeps into your voice. "You're not…"

Eddie strokes your neck with his thumb, growing serious. "I'm not what?"

"You haven't kissed me." You avoid his eyes. "Not since you saw me."

"I'm sorry," he says, immediately dipping forward.

You pull back. "Wait–"

Eddie waits. "What?" he asks.

"I don't want you to kiss me just 'cus I asked you to."

Eddie pushes his hand upward, his index finger shaped to your jawline. He rubs a quarter circle from your chin to your jaw tentatively with his thumb, an awful sorry look in his eyes that he gets whenever you're upset. "Well, I always want to kiss you," he confesses. His eyebrows furrow. "You know that, right?"

"But you haven't, today."

Is that pathetic? you panic. Noticing, caring, it feels so, so silly all of a sudden, you can't believe you spilled it that easily. You may as well have written clingy loser across your forehead in glaring pen.

Eddie sees it. He doesn't cringe at you like you fear he will.

"Ah," he says, almost humming, his lips barely parted, "that's just not okay, is it? My girl waiting on a kiss."

He leans in. You shy away, wanting his kiss but wanting the run up more. Eddie follows your lead, keeping space between you, rubbing a diligent and affectionate circle into your cheek. His touch is soft enough to tickle.

"I'm not trying to act desperate, I just figured– I thought there was a reason you hadn't," you say.

Eddie asks you in his softest, most genial tones if he can kiss you.

You don't say yes so much as you lift your chin and close your eyes. Your relief is sharp as he closes the fizzing space between you, as he guides your face to his and holds it there like a treasured pearl cupped in two palms. He makes a sound at the back of his throat that kills any doubts of his affection stone cold dead. Your lips part a millimetre if that, and Eddie slots into the gap, his hands growing less and less careful by the second, the pressure of his touch amping up. He moves back only long enough to turn his head, your noses bumping, another breathy sound slipping past his lips. You smother it gracelessly with a rougher reciprocation.

It's not your longest kiss, but it works. It's the reassurement you needed. Eddie pulls away to suck in a harsh breath, the feeling foreign against your tingling lips. His face dips, his eyes out of view. His hands move in twin down the slope of your neck, languish, feel along the thin layer of your t-shirt as though he's looking for some secret answer.

"I'm not trying to act weird around you, I'm just nervous," he says.

You feel your back aching, stiff as a rod. "Nervous?" you ask quietly.

Eddie rests his forehead on your chin. He whispers a cuss, and then he sits up very tall and looks you in the eye.

It takes him five seconds to tell you what it is that's making him anxious. In that time, you come up with a handful of things. I lost my job. I don't want to be with you anymore. There's someone else. There's no one else, but you did something that pissed me off/made me uncomfortable/disgusted me. I'm sick. None of your guesses are good, and none prepare you for what he asks next.

"Would you wanna move in with me?"

His hand meanders along your thigh. An awkward smile catches his lip like a fish hook, tugging it up on one side.

"I… what?"

"I think it's a good idea. I was trying to ask you yesterday, and now today it didn't feel right. I don't want you thinking I'm asking because you did my laundry." His hand warms your thigh, a pervasive heat. Your face is similarly hot. "We could split rent, and you could keep saving. You wouldn't have to deal with your shitty neighbours. You'd be closer to your job, and– and to me. It's a good idea," he repeats. "There's a ton of reasons it would be good for you, but I'm asking 'cus I missed you so bad last night I couldn't sleep. I wanna be with you whenever we can be."

"You'd really want me to?" you ask.

"You'd never have to wait for a kiss again," he says hopefully. "I know it's a big move. I get it if you're not ready."

"I'm ready," you say. You don't know it's true until you've said it aloud.

Delight sparks and catches like sun-dried tinder. Elation lights his eyes. "Holy shit, yeah? You want to?"

"Yeah," you say, nodding emphatically, trying not to yell. "Yes, I want to. I'd love to! That would be–"

"A dream," he finishes, snatching your waist into his grasp, basically yanking you into his arms.

"Amazing," you say, your arms forced over his shoulders.

You wrap your arms around the back of his head, curls that smell of almond oil and a generous dollop of hair mousse crushed to your face. Your eyes slip closed. You suck in an inconspicuous breath, though your self-indulgent action is interrupted by a groan, Eddie squeezing you hard enough to make the bones in your back click three at a time.

"I can't believe you, sweetheart. I don't kiss you for an hour and you think there's something wrong?" He laughs.

"I'm spoiled," you say sheepishly. To draw his attention, you add, "I can't believe you, afraid to ask me that! Why would I say no? I love you."

"I love you, too," he says, pulling the small of your back tighter still so he can dig his nose into the side of your head.

He kisses you all over the side of your face until you're painted in little warm patches from overexposure. A loved up mess, and dizzy with relief.

Relief and excitement. "How soon do you want me in here?" you ask, sitting back.

"How soon do you want another kiss?" he asks.

"Will we be stealing each other's questions all day?" you ask.

"For the rest of time, if I get my way."

"That's so corny," you whisper, ecstatic.

Eddie pushes you down onto the couch cushions. You know before he so much as pulls up a knee that he's going to climb on top of you. You make room for him, your heart feeling like it could breach through your ribs one bone at a time.

"What are you doing?" you whisper with a smile.

"Making up for lost kisses."

—

Two Weeks Later

Eddie wakes to a kiss.

Your arm thrown over his waist, your hand feeling greedily at the trim curve atop his hip, you've well and truly wrapped yourself around him. Like an octopus. He imagines the popping sound of your suckers if he tried to detach you (not that he'd want to).

You're dotting shy, soft kisses down the column of his throat. "I love you," you say softly between them, a melody that turns him to jelly. "I love you. Love you, love you, love you."

Your kisses are a compromise —after the general holy fucking shit-ism of your conversation a fortnight ago, Eddie put his foot down. He was out of his mind knowing his apartment was about to become yours, but he was also incredibly unhappy about the faces you'd made before he asked. He remembers your voice, your apprehension as you mumbled, "No, because, you're being off with me."

Eddie had been totally off trying to figure out how to ask what was potentially the second most important question he could ever ask you; he was distracted enough by it that he totally forgot about kissing you senseless. And your worrying asked a totally new question he hadn't thought of before. Why does Eddie always kiss you first? And why had the lack of a kiss been seen as a bar, and not an invitation?

Hence Project Kiss Me, Stupid. Or Project Kiss Me Stupid if he's feeling particularly in love (because you aren't stupid at all, but you may have made an unintelligent assumption (Eddie not kissing you for a few hours did not mean even slightly that he isn't gross in love).

The project was more like a proposal. Eddie decided you should be making the first move more often, so you weren't ever left feeling like something was wrong between you for lack of a kiss again. "If you ever think I'm mad at you, plant one on me. I promise I won't be mad much longer," he told you.

You're passing with flying colours, as far as he's concerned. Eddie thinks your moving in was gift enough, but fuck, all these kisses? He's been a walking vestibule of love, and lust, and sickening fondness for two weeks now. Project Kiss Me Stupid is the best thing that's ever happened to him. He's a genius.

"Good morning," you say into his neck, a hint of teeth scratching him with the greeting. Eddie cups the back of your head with a weak, tired groan as your lips close over his pulse.

"Morning," he says. His voice is thick with the grit of sleep.

"This is okay?" you ask, pausing in your kiss.

Eddie tips his head back heavily into plush pillows, your pillows, fresh with new bedding to match the nightstands you'd decided on together. "Please," he says. His arm slides behind your back to belt you in. "I'm gonna think you don't like me anymore if you take any longer."

"Very funny," you murmur.

He knows he's forgiven for teasing when your face dives back into the crook of his neck. His eyes shutter closed, blissed, thinking, God, I could get used to this, when you nip him.

"You didn't like my joke, I take it?"

"It was funny," you say, giving him a scratching kiss.

"That's counter-intuitive," he warns. "I like it rough."

You fall away from him to cover your face with both hands. He knows he's rubbing off on you at the sight, your head shaking a theatrical side to side that fails to hide real embarrassment beneath it. You look especially tortured.

Eddie knows exactly how to fix it.

˚‧꒰ა ✮ ໒꒱‧˚

thanks so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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hypnagogics · 10 months ago

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doing ellie's makeup? I FEEL LIKE THAT'D BE SO CUTE TY

IMPORTANT. READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸 AND CLICK HERE TO HELP, IT TAKES 10 SECONDS.

☆:this is adorable omg i <3 fluff. disclaimer: i know absolutely nothing about makeup lol but had fun writing thiss. also fuck ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS A LOT EARLIER THAN I MEANT TO. i wanna take this down to edit it some more, embellish it..but don't wish to lose the ask....tumblr lemme private crap when i've misclicked pls. no warnings, just fluff. except not proofread whoops.

doing ellie’s makeup.

a package had just arrived in the mail. you had previously ordered some new products, and were overjoyed about your purchases! needed to try them out, so you got an idea. she wasn't doing anything important right now….surely your artist girlfriend wouldn't mind being the canvas for a change?

“ellie, can I do your makeup??”

you sat down next to her sprawled out form on the couch, scrolling on her phone mindlessly as she shifted to the side to make space for you. she furrowed her eyebrows and didn't look up from her scrolling to murmur, “mmmmm…sure, why not.” you almost jumped for joy, she was going to look so pretty. ellie almost regretted allowing this, but seeing how happy you looked made her melt immediately. “okay wait here.” you went to gather your basket of products, so excited. she put her phone away and waited patiently for you to return. you returned and sat beside her, but that positioning wasn't allowing you to see properly. “lemme sit on you.” she continued laying down and you got on top of her to straddle her waist, laughing at her facial expressions. she wiggled her eyebrows and held onto your hips, thumbs making little circles, “i'm enjoying this.” she said, making your cheeks heat up the smallest touch. you lightly slapped her hands away, “oh shut up, i can't do this well if i'm not like, 3 inches from your face.” “alright, alright princess,” she said through a chuckle, dropping her arms by her sides. still smirking, proud of her jokes. “put this on.” you hand her a ridiculous looking headband, a pink one with a huge bow in the front, to put on to get her soft auburn hair out of her face, and she shoots you a look, but complies anyway. mischievously rubbing your hands together, you search for the base products to apply first. she watches curiously as you set up all the brushes and sponges to give her the makeover of a lifetime. you select one and show it to her, “i'll do this one, its light coverage because i don't wanna cover your freckles. i love them too much to do that.” she nods along, absorbing the information, her cheeks turning a light pink at the compliment. as you apply all the products to her face, she seems so relaxed. you’d honestly expected her to not be a fan, but it was lovely to see her closing her eyes, and just letting you paint her however you so pleased. it was a win/win situation, a sweet moment for both.

you went through most of the routine, and it was time for eye products. making sure to emphasize your point, “okay, stay veeeeery still.” she seemed so at peace, and nodded to say she heard you. you got closer to her, eyeliner pen in hand and as soon as you made contact with her delicate eyelid, her eye started twitching and she burst into giggles. “hey, that tickles.” “ellie stay still, i’ll poke your eye out, cmon, i’m almost done.” “i’m tryin baby.” steadying your drawing hand, and steadying her by holding onto her cheek, slowly but surely you do her eyeliner. it’s uneven and a little wonky because she couldn’t be as still as needed, but charming, if you do say so yourself. and the final step, you pick out your sparkliest lip gloss. as you were applying the finishing touches, she was watching your focus intently, watching your movements so intimately. “there, done.” you finish and lean away from her, inspecting your work. she almost looked like a different person, but the way you’d done it accentuated her features perfectly, and made her green eyes just pop. she looked stellar. lips plump and sparkly, cheeks wonderfully rosy, like a doll. you squealed, “you look so good!!” she batted her mascara covered eyelashes as she sat up closer to you, who’s still on her lap, and pressed a messy kiss to your lips, smearing her gloss everywhere. “ellieeee, wait i gotta fix it.” you fix her lips, holding onto her chin as you do so, and get up so she can visit a mirror to take a look. she gasped, “oh wow.” you watched as she posed and inspected her makeover in front of the mirror, fascinated. “wow, i don’t look like myself….but i kinda love it." she throws a toothy grin your way. “i’m glad, thanks for letting me els.” she kept inspecting and looking at herself, “y’know, the more i look at this the more i like it. you can practice on me more often if you want.” this made you so happy, she looks great as ever with whatever she decides to do with her appearance, and it was so much fun to do this for her.

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valkyrieromanoff · 3 months ago

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BED CHEM (18+): JAMES KELLY X READER

summary: James is your neighbor at the trailer park, he sees you washing your trailer, and he offers to help. One hand washes the other, and you find yourself in a pleasant situation.

warnings: sexual content, oral sex (female receiving), semi public sex, porn without plot.

word count: 3.4 k

n/a: after making my dad watch 'American Heist' with me, for no other reason than to be able to watch Hayden Christensen for an hour and a half... I remembered why I have such a huge crush on this man, and poor James, he just wanted to open a mechanic shop, he suffered so much, poor thing.

anyway, I couldn't resist the opportunity to write something self-indulgent, so I hope you like it, comment if you liked it or if you would read a sequel? Kisses 💖

p.s: probably the most obscene thing I've ever written, but I liked it anyway

The sun blazed in a wide expanse of blue, with only a few wisps of clouds drifting lazily overhead. After days of relentless rain that left nothing but thick puddles of mud and a layer of grime clinging to every surface, the clear sky felt like a rare gift. It was the perfect day for a deep clean, to scrub away the muck that had built up around the trailer.

You sighed, glancing at the cluttered mess outside. Your mother had disappeared again, off to deal with whatever trouble your grandmother had stirred up this time, leaving you alone to face the chore. With a reluctant huff, you knew there was no escaping it; the task would fall to you, as always.

Changing into an old white shirt and a pair of faded blue shorts —clothes you didn’t mind soaking —you grabbed the hose and filled a bucket with water. The warmth of the sun kissed your skin as you stepped outside, your feet crunching against the gravel beneath you. You set the bucket down with a small splash and grabbed a sponge, beginning to scrub the window in steady, determined circles.

James lets out a low whistle, his blue eyes sweeping over you with a playful gleam. "Well, would you look at that," he drawls, a slow smile spreading across his face.

"James!" you exclaim, quickly crossing your arms over your chest, caught off guard by his sudden appearance. He must have snuck up on you; you hadn’t even heard him coming. "Do you always have to sneak around like that?"

He chuckles, his gaze never leaving you. "Can't help it, princess. You’re putting on quite a show." He takes a step closer, his lips curling into a grin as he licks them. "Why don’t you let me give you a hand?" His eyes dart to the trailer, where the mess still looms large. "Looks like you could use some help."

You huff, rolling your eyes. "Oh, really? And what do you know about cleaning?" You shoot back, eyeing him skeptically. James’s trailer couldn’t exactly be described as spotless—tidy at best. You can’t even remember the last time he gave it a proper clean; the rusty notes separating his trailer from the others speak for themselves.

He shrugs with a teasing smile. "More than you’d think, princess. And let’s be honest, you’re not gonna clean all this up on your own." He leans in a little closer, lowering his voice. "But I’m not doing it for free. I help you with the trailer, and you owe me one."

Your brow furrows, suspicion evident in your voice. "What kind of favor are we talking about?"

James grins, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Use that imagination of yours."

"I’m not helping you sell drugs, James," you snap, too quickly, not wanting any trouble with the police.

He throws his head back, laughing, his tattooed hand scratching the back of his neck. "Oh, come on, you think I’m that predictable?" He leans in closer, his grin widening. "I was thinking of a different kind of favor."

You feel a flush creep up your cheeks, catching his implication. "I’m not sleeping with you," you declare firmly.

He shrugs, the smug smile still playing on his lips. "Your choice. But just so you know, I can be pretty persuasive." He steps even closer, his voice dropping to a low, teasing rumble. "And who knows, you might even enjoy it."

You chew on your lip, weighing your options. On one hand, you could definitely use the help with the trailer; on the other, making a deal with James Kelly, your older, flirtatious neighbor, seemed like a gamble. But then again, what choice did you have? "Fine," you finally say, meeting his gaze with a challenging look. "Just help me clean the trailer, and I’ll owe you one."

James grins, extending his hand with a playful flourish. "Deal, princess. Let’s make this place sparkle."

You uncross your arms, a smirk tugging at your lips as you bend down to grab a sponge from the bucket of water. Without warning, you fling it right at his chest, soaking his shirt. "Sparkle, huh?" you tease, before turning back to scrubbing the trailer window.

James looks down at the wet sponge now stuck to his chest, then back up at you, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Well, look at that. Already trying to get me out of my clothes? I like the way you think.”

You roll your eyes, but a small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth despite yourself. “Keep dreaming, James.”

He chuckles, taking the sponge and slowly squeezing out the excess water, droplets trickling down his arm. “Maybe I already am, princess,” he teases, his voice low and suggestive.

He falls in beside you, picking up another sponge and getting to work. Despite his earlier teasing, he starts scrubbing with surprising efficiency, moving in smooth, quick motions. Every now and then, he throws in a wink or a cheeky comment, but he sticks to his word and focuses on the task at hand.

As the minutes pass, the two of you settle into an easy rhythm, working side by side in companionable silence. You have to admit, his help makes a huge difference; the work is going by much faster than you’d expected. And, despite your initial wariness, you find yourself… enjoying his company. There’s something unexpectedly satisfying about watching the trailer transform under your combined efforts, the dirt and grime giving way to a fresh, clean shine.

Maybe it’s the sun, or the unexpected teamwork, but for a moment, you almost forget why you were so hesitant in the first place.

At one point, you were hanging from the tire attached to the back door, cleaning the roof, your breasts pressed firmly against the trailer's frame through your clinging, soaked blouse. From this provocative position, your lush, round ass jutted upwards as you stretched to reach everywhere.

James, who had been cleaning the wheels, froze mid-scrub, releasing a low, appreciative whistle. "Now, that's a sight for sore eyes," he murmured, his gaze fixed and unwavering on your alluring display. He shielded his eyes with a hand, blocking the sun's glare as he continued to drink in the view.

You look over your shoulder at him. “James” you warned, trying to keep the amusement from leaking out of your tone. "Eyes on the wheels, I want them shining."

His smile was unapologetic as he responded, "I can't help it, princess. You're putting on quite the performance up there. I'd be a fool to miss it."

"Pervert." You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't deny the fluttering in your stomach at his words and the hypnotic cadence of his voice. Could these be the butterflies that books talk about so much?

James chuckled, his blue eyes finally returning to the task at hand, alighting on the underside of the trailer. "Guilty as charged, princess. At least I'm honest about it."

A while later, you hear James clear his throat below. “Hey, princess? Careful up there. I’d hate to see you fall and hurt yourself.”

You glance down, caught off guard by the unexpected softness in his voice. His usual playful grin is absent, replaced with a look of genuine concern that makes your heart skip a beat. “Oh, right, thanks” you reply quietly, a warmth spreading through you that has nothing to do with the sun beating down on your skin. Maybe there’s more to James Kelly than just the flirty mechanic.

You sit perched on the edge of the trailer roof, hesitating as you look at the ground. It suddenly seems a lot farther down than it did when you climbed up. You bite your bottom lip, a flicker of uncertainty crossing your face.

“Um, James, can you help me down?” You ask shyly, a shiver running down your body as the suds drip down your wet breasts under your blouse, your peaks hard as the suds slide down your thighs.

James's gaze hungrily devours your disheveled state, and he quickly nods in agreement. “Sure, princess. Just give me a second.”

He tosses the sponge back into the bucket and strides purposefully until he's directly beneath you. "Jump," he instructs, stretching out his arms. "I'll catch you."

You hesitate for a moment, biting your bottom lip, before taking a deep breath and stepping away from the roof of the trailer. James catches you easily, his firm, tattooed arms wrapping around you, holding you against his chest. He keeps you pressed against his body, and you can't help but feel the hardness pressing against your belly.

He sets you down gently, but his arms linger, his eyes dark with desire as they meet yours. "Are you okay, princess?" he asks in a hoarse voice.

You nod, unable to speak as you stare at him, your heart pounding. He leans in closer, his lips inches from yours. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your face, and you lean in as well, eager to taste his lips.

But as he's about to kiss you, he abruptly pulls away, a wry smile on his face. "I told you I could be persuasive," he says, releasing you and taking a step back.

You blink, surprised and embarrassed by his sudden withdrawal. "W-what?" you stammer.

He turns back to the trailer, flashing you a nonchalant grin. "Nothing, princess. Let's get back to cleaning."

Your cheeks burn, though you can’t tell if it’s from the relentless sun or the shame of almost getting caught staring at James's lips, imagining what it would feel like to kiss him. Your thoughts are a jumbled mess, your heart pounding with a mix of embarrassment and something else you don't want to admit. You turn back to the task at hand, scrubbing the trailer window with renewed intensity, channeling all your frustration and confusion into making the glass spotless.

You can feel James’s gaze on you, a quiet heat that only makes your pulse race faster. The air seems thicker somehow, the sun hotter, and you focus on the steady, rhythmic motion of your hand against the glass, willing yourself to ignore him.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs softly, his voice carrying over the sound of the water splashing against the trailer.

You freeze, your breath catching in your throat. Your cheeks flush deeper, and you feel your heart hammering against your ribs. You risk a glance over your shoulder, catching the look in his eyes—intense, sincere, with a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.

The unexpected compliment sends a flutter through your chest, and you swallow hard, trying to steady your nerves. You force a smile, though your voice wavers slightly as you respond, “You’re not so bad yourself, James.”

He grins wider, clearly amused by your flustered reaction. “That so, princess?”

You roll your eyes, trying to regain your composure. “I meant your help,” you add quickly, turning back to the window. But you can’t quite shake the feeling that, for a moment, he’d seen right through you —to the thoughts you’d been trying so hard to hide.

"This scorching New Orleans sun doesn’t give you a break," you complain, the sweat glistening on your forehead, a testament to the unyielding heat that envelops you like a suffocating blanket. You feel as if you're a lump of ice melting under the oppressive, steamy air, and you can't help but loathe the climate in this state.

Seeking respite from the incessant heat, you grab the hose, lifting it over your head, and let the cool water cascade over your body. The water clings to your skin, your clothes molded to your curves like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination. Your breasts, heaving with each breath, are clearly visible through the wet fabric, while the shorts cling to the lush curves of your ass.

James's eyes widen as he takes in the sight, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard, the desire in his eyes unmistakable. "Fuck, princess. You're killing me here," he murmurs, his voice thick with lust.

You look up at him, a coy smile playing on your lips, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Am I?" you tease, allowing the water to trickle down your shirt, tracing the lines of your breasts and hips, eliciting a low groan from James.

He runs a hand through his dark, damp hair, his face flushed with desire. "Yes, you fucking are," he states, taking a step closer to you. "You know what you're doing to me, don't you?"

You tilt your head to the side, feigning innocence, your eyes flickering with a hint of playfulness. "I have no idea what you're talking about, James," you lie, biting your lip to keep from smiling.

James's patience snaps, and he reaches up, his fingers wrapping around your wrist and pulling you roughly against his body. "Didn't anyone teach you that lying is bad, princess?" he growls, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

You gasp as you feel his hardness pressing into you once more, the sensation intoxicating. James takes advantage of your open mouth, crushing his lips to yours in a hungry, demanding kiss. You surrender to him, kissing him back fiercely, your bodies pressed tightly together. In the midst of this passionate embrace, you lose your grip on the hose, allowing it to slip from your fingers and clatter to the gravel below.

James grabs your neck from behind to deepen the kiss, his tongue meeting yours, you gasp at the sensation, his other hand coming down to grip your waist. You moan against his mouth, your body arching into his as his hand on your waist slides down to cup your ass, pulling you even closer. His thumb hooks into the waistband of your shorts, tracing the edge of your panties and sending shivers down your spine.

He breaks the searing kiss, his lips trailing a torturous path down your jaw and along the sensitive skin of your neck. He nips and sucks, each touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. "Fuck, princess," he growls, his voice a husky rumble. "You taste so good."

You tilt your head back, offering him full access to your vulnerable neck, your body writhing against his in an urgent, desperate need for more. "James," you gasp, your hands clawing at the muscles of his back. "Please..."

He groans, his hand sliding lower, his fingers pressing against the front of your shorts, the thin fabric the only barrier between him and your needy core. "Please what, princess?" he whispers, his finger teasing you, rubbing in slow, maddening circles. "Use your words,"

"Touch me," you beg, your eyes fluttering shut as you're consumed by the swell of pleasure. "Please, touch me."

The air is thick with the heady scent of lust, and the tension between you both is palpable, begging for release. James's fingers tease you mercilessly, prolonging your agony as he decides to what extent he'll indulge you. The anticipation is as much a part of the pleasure as the touch itself, leaving you trembling and needy.

He chuckles, a low, carnal sound that sends shivers down your spine as he unbuttons your shorts with practiced ease. His hand slides inside, gently pushing your panties aside to reveal your bare, wet flesh. His fingers brush against you, eliciting a soft moan from your parted lips.

“Like that, princess?” he asks, his voice dripping with seduction as he slides a finger into your slick, heated core. You cry out, the sudden invasion making your knees buckle. James reacts quickly, wrapping his arm around your waist, steadying you as he continues to pump his finger in and out of your quivering depths.

His thumb circles your clit, adding another layer of pleasure to the sensory overload. “Yeah, just like that,” you sigh, your hips undulating in response to his skilled touch. “Oh God, James, yes…”

He claims your mouth in another searing kiss, his tongue dueling with yours as he devours your moans. You’re at his mercy, your body responding to his every touch. He adds a second finger to the first, stretching you and increasing your pleasure, each thrust bringing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

Suddenly, he pulls his hand away, leaving you breathless and aching. Your eyes fly open, confusion etched across your face as you stare up at him. “Why did you stop?” you ask, your voice thick with desire. James’s smile is both wicked and knowing, his eyes filled with the promise of more pleasure to come.

He grins wickedly at you, licking his fingers clean, his eyes gleaming with desire. "Because, princess, I want to taste you when you cum," he explains, his voice a sultry rumble. Without warning, he drops to his knees in front of you, the swift motion of pulling your shorts and panties down leaving you momentarily breathless.

You're too stunned to protest as his face buries itself between your legs, his talented tongue delving deep into your slick folds. A moan escapes your lips, and you find your fingers instinctively tangling in his hair as he maneuvers one of your legs over his shoulder, gaining a better angle to feast upon you.

James grips your thighs, holding you steady as his tongue explores every inch of your wet, quivering core. He sucks and licks with relentless passion, each movement pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your breath comes in short, frantic gasps as you grind against his face, the pleasure building to a crescendo.

"James, oh god, James, I'm gonna cum," you moan, your fingers digging into his hair, holding him in place as you're on the brink of release. He growls against your sensitive flesh, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine and sending you careening over the edge. You cry out, your body convulsing as waves of ecstasy crash over you.

James doesn't let up, continuing to lavish attention on your spent form, his tongue and lips teasing you until you're writhing and pleading for mercy. The sensation has become too much, your nerves electrified from the intensity of his ministrations. Finally, he stands, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Delicious," he murmurs, pulling you into a searing kiss, allowing you to taste the sweet evidence of your pleasure on his lips. You melt into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you return the kiss, still riding the high of your orgasm. When you finally pull away, you rest your forehead against his, your eyes closed as you catch your breath.

"That was... intense," you whisper, a small, satisfied smile gracing your lips. James chuckles, his fingers gently brushing a damp strand of hair from your face.

"That was just the beginning, princess," he promises in a low, dangerous voice. "We're just getting started."

It takes you a few moments to collect your thoughts, the intensity of the moment leaving you slightly dazed. You're grateful for the early hour and the fact that your neighbors aren't home, the knowledge adding a thrilling layer to the already sensual encounter. You pull your panties and shorts up, a soft moan escaping your lips as the fabric brushes against your still-sensitive flesh.

You turn to James, your voice husky from the recent pleasure. "Thanks for helping," you mumble, grabbing the bucket and sponge, your movements slightly unsteady. You walk past him, your hips swaying in a way that you're sure doesn't go unnoticed, and enter your trailer.

James watches you go, a mix of confusion and frustration etched on his face. He runs a hand through his hair, muttering a curse under his breath. "Well, fuck it," he says to himself, his gaze sweeping over the now-clean trailer. With a shake of his head, he gathers his belongings and heads back to his own trailer, leaving you to ponder the unexpected turn of events.

As he walks away, he calls out, his voice carrying in the quiet morning air, "See you around, princess!"

You don't respond, leaning against the door you've just closed, your heart pounding in your chest. What had just happened? You hadn't intended for things to go this far, but somehow, James had a way of making you lose control. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You knew you needed to figure out what you were going to do about James Kelly.

One thing was certain: he wouldn't leave you alone any time soon, and the anticipation of the future interactions left a tantalizing tingle in your core.

#james kelly imagine #james kelly x reader #james kelly #american heist #hayden christensen x reader #james kelly smut

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somethinginthewayiam · 4 months ago

Text

The girl behind the bar (Part 4.1)

pairing: Jake Hangman Seresin x plus-size reader

warnings: self-doubt, bad self-body image

words: 3.3k

Summary: The bar is closed for some spring cleaning outside on the deck. At the same time, the navy pilots played some football on the beach in an attempt for some team-building exercise. After a while, Penny asked you to take her dog Theo for a walk on the beach...

Link to my masterlist

It was the day the bar was closed and therefore your day off, but you were at the Hard Deck anyway because Penny asked you to help with some sort of a spring cleaning of the bar, including the deck outside and washing all the big windows at the beachfront. Penny was taking care of the windows as you and Jimmy set up all the deck chairs, cleaning them off with a high-pressure cleaner. Penny’s dog Theo was running around you guys, having the time of his life running off with the sponge or chasing the water Penny was spritzing into the air.

It was the middle of the afternoon, the sun starting to fall after its noon peak, when you were done and Jimmy had taken off. Penny was sitting outside on the deck, going over the books. She had told you that you could also leave when Jimmy left but what else were you going to do?

All the people you knew in town were either at this bar or on the beach as the naval aviators were playing football with Maverick. Apparently, some sort of a team-building exercise for their mission training.

They had placed their belongings at the bar before wandering off onto the beach in their swimming trunks and sport outfits. You were in the middle of drying off the last deck chair as your eyes kept wandering over to the group. All men including Maverick were playing without a shirt on, except for Bob. The two women in the squad were wearing shorts and sports bras.

Your eyes were wandering to Hangman who was totally ripped and his upper body was glistening with sweat. Fuck, he looked good. Actually, everybody did. From Rooster to Coyote to Maverick, everybody was sporting a muscley, toned physique that apparently was mandatory by the Navy.

When you looked over at Penny, you caught her admiring the group in the same way you did, although her eyes were clearly set on Maverick. Her stare was interrupted when Theo jumped up and tried to grab the pen from her hands with his mouth. “Hey, no!”, she called out and motioned him to sit but he wiggled around like he had bees in his butt.

“Y/N, would you mind taking Theo for a little walk on the beach? Maybe throw the ball? I need to finish this here”, Penny asked you, pointing at the books in front of her. “Sure, I’m done here anyway”, you told her and threw the towel into the bucket. You wiped your hands on your shorts and kicked off your shoes.

You re-did your ponytail and grabbed the ball from the table where Penny had placed it earlier. “Thank you”, she said before you walked off the deck and called Theo, who followed you with a wiggling tail.

You had actually planned to go to the beach after work since you’ve never been since you moved here and it was a hot day. But after seeing the guys and gals playing football, everybody super fit and tanned and gorgeous, the urge to take your own clothes off had fallen to a negative one hundred. It made you feel even weirder that you were already wearing your bathing suit underneath your shorts and tank top.

You walked down the little pathway onto the sandy beach, walking towards the water and the group. “Hey Mav”, you said as you arrived at a beach chair that Mav has sat down in while you were walking down here.

“Hey Y/N! Up for a round of dogfight football?”, Mav asked you, looking up from his chair. You shielded your eyes from the low sun and watched the two groups charge at each other. “No thanks, I let you Navy guys do that. But I could go for a round of volleyball”, you suggested. “I got no ball with me, but that sounds like a good idea. Imma hold you to it”, he offered. “You got it”, you agreed with a smile and he gave you a fist bump.

“Are you done for the day?”, you asked, still watching the guys running around on the beach, celebrating when they scored a touchdown. They actually looked more like a team than they did all the times before when you saw them at the bar. You could only imagine what it was like at base camp as you had actually no idea what they did all day.

“Ah, yeah. I’ll leave the kids to play”, he said and started patting Theo, playing with him as Theo tried to catch Maverick’s finger he was wiggling in front of the dog’s face. “Are you done working, too?”, he asked you. “Yes, Penny asked me to distract this little guy so she can take care of the books”, you told him and he nodded. “But I’m sure she can use a break as well”, you added with a smirk on your lips. Mav looked over his shoulder towards the Hard Deck. “You think?”, he asked as he turned around again. “Oh, I’m sure”, you nodded encouragingly.

“Come on, Theo. Let’s throw that ball”, you said to your furry friend and wiggled the ball in front of his face to get his attention. You walked a few feet away from the group as to not get in their space before you started throwing the ball for Theo. Every time you threw it, Theo took a detour through the incoming waves. No matter how far away you managed to throw it from the ocean, he always splashed in the water before he came back to you. And whenever he came back with the ball, he shook his fur free from the water right in front of you, splashing you from top to bottom.

“Dude, I’m so wet because of you”, you said to him as he did another shake in front of you after dropping the ball by your feet. “A sentence Bob will never hear”, you heard Hangman’s voice next to you as he got the football that had landed close to you.

“Are you being a good boy and retrieving the ball for Maverick?”, you asked as you bent down to grab Theo’s ball and stood up again. “You got the good boy part right”, he said with a wink. Despite your better judgement, you giggled at his comment instead of your usual eyeroll and it surprised the both of you, which you saw at the expression on his face.

“Y/N!”, you suddenly heard behind you and the next moment, two strong arms wrapped around you from behind, beginning to lift you upwards. “Ahhh”, you let out a loud squeal and your body got all stiff. “No! Let me down!”, you demanded but tried to keep the sound of your voice light and friendly, even though you hated nothing more than to be lifted in the air.

Not because you actually hated to be up there but because you believed to be too heavy to be lifted by anybody and that when the person actually struggles to lift you or actually straight up can’t, it’s only gonna be embarrassing for the both of you.

Only when you turned around as you felt the sandy beach beneath your feet again, you found Rooster to be the person that tried to lift you. He was only wearing his jeans shorts (bold choice) and his upper body was glistening with sweat, just like all the others that started gathering around you. Fanboy took the ball from your hand and started throwing it for Theo.

“Are you guys done playing?”, you asked and shielded your eyes from the low sun. “Yeah, we’re absolutely roasted”, Fanboy told you, sounding out of breath. “Let’s all take a dip in the ocean”, Payback suggested. “Yeah, let’s do that”, Rooster agreed. “You coming, too?”, he asked you. “Oh, no, you guys go ahead. I got the little guy here”, you told him and pointed at Theo who was just bringing the ball back to Fanboy.

“Just send him back up to Penny, he knows the way”, Rooster suggested. “If you want to change, we can wait for you”, Phoenix offered. “Or go in your underwear, we don’t mind”, Fanboy mentioned. “Thank you, Fanboy, but I’m actually already wearing my bathing suit”, you told them and lifted the hem of your shirt to show off the black fabric.

“Okay, then it’s settled. Let’s go”, Rooster said and patted your back. You contemplated for a moment. You were hot and sweaty from your work and you had planned on going into the ocean for a swim anyways. A sudden inner defiance against your own insecurities about your body and its size had you finally giving in.

“Alright, but let me put my clothes by the chair”, you told them and started walking over to said chair, taking Theo with you. When you came closer, you noticed that Maverick was gone. When you looked towards the Hard Deck, you found him talking to Penny, sitting across from her.

You put the ball gently into Theo’s mouth and told him to go to his owner, which he actually understood and you watched him run up the path towards Penny, dropping the ball by her feet. That made her advert her eyes from Maverick and look at her little companion. She grabbed the ball and looked down onto the beach where she found you waving. She waved back and gave you a thumbs up.

The others had followed you and started to take off their clothes, revealing some swim shorts beneath their regular pants.

At first, you didn’t want to undress in front of them, but then you thought that there was no comparison between them and you anyway, you were playing in different leagues, well, technically you’re not competing as you didn’t even play the same sport. Figuratively AND literally.

You unzipped your shorts and pushed them down your legs before you pulled your shirt over your head, revealing a one-piece bathing suit with cut-outs on the side, just low enough to hide the rolls on your back, but also high enough to show your smaller waist which you were actually quite proud of.

You laid out your clothes so they could dry while you were taking a dip. As the others were quicker than you, they already headed for the waves.

As you got up, you reached inside the bra portion of your bathing suit and rearranged your boobs to fit better. You had the bathing suit for a little while and it got a bit snug around certain parts but it was still the best bathing suit you had ever owned, so you would never throw it out.

When you turned around, you locked eyes with Bob, who was sitting there in his shirt and shorts, applying sunscreen on his arms, while your hand was still in your bra. “Just sorting out the girls”, you said and let out a little embarrassed chuckle. You quickly pulled your hand out and put your hands on your hips as you suddenly didn’t know what to do with them.

“Are you not going swimming?”, you asked. “No, I rather sit this one out, thanks”, he said and you immediately recognized the shyness that came with the unwillingness to take off your own shirt in front of other people. “I bet after such an intense game, a dip in the ocean must be quite nice”, you said and tried to make it sound super random.

“Yeah, probably”, he just shrugged his shoulders. He was a hard one to crack but you knew from personal experience how that felt. “You can just go in with your shirt on, you know?”, you suggested. “Yeah, like that wouldn’t look super awkward”, he scoffed and looked out at the ocean where the guys and girls already swam, dipping each other under the water and splashing around.

“I can put my shirt back on as well, then we’re already two”, you offered. “But you just sorted out the girls”, he said. His comment was so dry that it took you a good moment to recognize the joke within.

“Look who got some jokes now”, you chuckled and nudged his shoulder. A shy smile appeared on his lips and he looked down at the bottle of sunscreen in his hands.

“Listen, if I was able to take off my shirt, then definitely you can, too”, you told him. “Easy for you to say”, he responded and was hinting at something obvious, but it just wasn’t obvious to you. Didn’t he know that for girls it was always harder to undress in public, especially for girls with a body like yours?

“Hey, would it help if I go without my top on as well?”, you suggested as a joke, your thumb under the strap of your bathing suit. “Yeah, immensely”, he immediately answered. “And for that you have to go swimming with me now”, you told him off with your index finger pointed at him. Then you extended your hand and pulled him up when he finally took it. Together, you walked towards the ocean.

“Y/N!”, Rooster called out as soon as he saw you. He was halfway out of the water and came straight towards you. “NO!”, you immediately said and held out your hand in front of you. “Not again!”, you added as he sped up. You started walking to the side, speeding up as best as you could. When you saw him starting to run, you tried to play along and also run away from him, but you knew that you and cardio weren’t the best of friends and also this would end in the water anyway. And before you would alarm everybody with a bright, red face and a whistling tone while you tried to breathe, you started to run towards the water.

Rooster was behind you in no time, wrapped his arms around you again and managed to cover exactly the cut-outs of your bathing suit. Even though you knew what was coming, the sudden skin-on-skin contact threw you off a little bit and Rooster used the irritation to pick you up and carry you the few steps into deeper water before he threw you in.

You were actually glad about the cool-down the water provided you with. Normally, you were not surrounded by so many good-looking people in so little clothing and it got to you a little bit. Your last time has been way too long ago. Way, way too long.

“Why do you guys always have to be so rough?”, you said after coming back up to the surface, spitting out the water and rubbing your eyes, a salty taste in your mouth. “Some girls like it rough”, Coyote commented with a sleezy laugh, bobbing in the water behind you. “Yeah, well there’s a place and a time. Like the bedroom or the backseat of a Bronco”, you said out loud before you could think. “She’s not wrong”, Rooster agreed and got a dreamy expression on his face. Only now you realized that he was actually driving a Bronco and probably had some good times in there other than a few fun road trips.

When you looked back to the beach, you found Bob standing there. “Hey!”, you exclaimed and waved at him to come into the water. “You don’t think I’ll actually do it, huh?”, you shouted towards him. “Do what?”, Fanboy asked. “I told him I’ll take my top off if he does as well and comes into the water”, you told him. “BOB, GET THAT SHIRT OFF AND YOU DAMN ASS OVER HERE!”, Fanboy screamed towards the beach and some of the other guys screamed Bob’s name as well and motioned him to get into the water. “Come on, Bob!”, Phoenix called out towards her teammate and back-seater.

When he finally took off his shirt and came into the water, everybody cheered. “Alright, your turn”, he said to you when he arrived at the group that were all bobbing in the water together. “Stop being such horny teenagers. I already took my top off, it’s drying over there in the sun”, you told them and nodded towards your clothes on the beach.

“If you’ll excuse me now, I’m gonna actually swim for a little bit”, you said and as you turned around in the water to start swimming away from the group, you almost crashed into Hangman. You hadn’t noticed him there before. Out of surprise, you put your hands on his chest under the water just to brace yourself. Your fingertips sank into his skin for a split second and you felt his body heat on your palms under the water.

“Sorry”, you just mumbled and noticed that you sounded a bit breathless. “All good”, he simply said.

You swam around him, his eyes following you, and made sure to swim out for a few strokes to get some space between you and Hangman. It embarrassed you how that little moment just threw you off, feeling your cheeks burning up. You dismissed it as the exertion from swimming against the incoming waves.

You swam back and forth for a little bit, trying not to go out too far and when your arms felt tired, you lay on your back, floating on the water and feeling the last rays of sunshine of the day on your face.

You let your mind wander a bit and you started to think about the new friends you had made over the past weeks. It all felt a bit weird. It seemed like the guys were flirting with you, but you also made fun of each other. You never really had guy friends and didn’t know how to categorize all the interactions. You just filed everything under “friendly hazing”. Because there was no other side to it…right?

“Y/N!”, you suddenly heard Phoenix call out your name. You swam upright again and looked towards the shore. She waved you to swim back to the beach as everybody was ready to get out.

Phoenix and Halo, the other woman in the squad, were waiting for you, handing you your clothes. The guys were already back at the Hard Deck, putting their shirts back on.

“Hey, Y/N, Penny said we could stay at the bar for a few hours if you promise to take our money and clean up afterwards”, Coyote told you as you arrived on the deck of the bar. You walked over to your bag and grabbed the big beach towel you had brought with you and wrapped it around your body. You suddenly felt very under-dressed with so many people around you.

You looked at Penny, who seemed to be ready to drive off with Maverick, who was wearing his leather jacket, and had Theo on his leash. She gave you a little nod, letting you know that she was actually okay with Coyote’s suggestion.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Okay, I’ll do that”, you agreed and then turned to Coyote. “If you don’t make such a mess in the first place”, you admonished him and pointed a finger of warning at him. “Scouts honors”, he promised and held up his right hand.

Penny, Mav and Theo left and you got inside with everybody. “I’ll go change”, you told Phoenix and took your bag into the women’s restroom. You changed from your wet bathing suit into the underwear you had brought with you and rubbed your hair somewhat dry before you changed back into your shorts and a fresh black tank top. You looked at your face in the mirror. You regretted that you didn’t have any make-up on you, simple mascara or something, but you really hadn’t expected to be spending your evening with the group.

You came back out and stored your bag under the bar counter.

“Who’s ready for the first round?”.

Next chapter: Part 4.2

#jake hangman seresin #the girl behind the bar #jake hangman seresin x plus-size reader #topgun maverick #glen powell #glen powell imagine #jake hangman seresin imagine #hangman #glen powell fanfiction #jake seresin fanfiction #topgun maverick fanfiction

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bagofshinyrocks · 11 months ago

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Matchy Matchy!

Prompt: For the Twelve Days of Christmas, you get Simon and yourself some matching presents. [Requested by @ertepla]

Featuring: Simon Riley x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: profanity, slightly suggestive at the end

“How many presents do you get on the Twelfth Day of Christmas?”

“Twelve.”

“Nope.”

Simon fixed you with a withering look. He was elbow deep in a bubbly sink, with a smiley-face sponge in one hand, and the breakfast plates in the other. Not his scariest moment.

“What do you mean no?” He started muttering the words to the final stanza. “ ‘On the twelfth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, twelve drummers drumming.’ Yeah, twelve.”

You put down the clean dish and rag. “Bubba, twelve drummers drumming, and… eleven pipers piping and all the others.”

Simon blinked. “Goddamnit.” The sponge splashed into the suds. “Is that what the song was sayin’ the whole damn time?”

You nodded and cupped his face in your hands.

“That’s so many fucking presents.”

“Seventy-eight on the last day. And a total of three hundred and sixty-four presents over the twelve days.”

His hands settled on your hips and tugged you closer. A loving, warm kiss. A quick swipe of his tongue against your lips. Then pulled away and settled his forehead against yours.

“Lovie, you are my everything. I love you so fuckin’ much. But, I’m not getting you more than three hundred gifts.”

You laugh and pulled him back for another kiss.

“Sweetie,” a kiss to his nose, both of his cheeks, and then his chin. “It’s just trivia. Something you can trick your buddies with tomorrow.”

He hummed, then smiled. “I’ll start with Johnny.”

“Poor Johnny.”

You would have liked for Simon to have a Christmas break and spend the season with you, but alas, that was not the case. He was deployed December 10th, and was supposed to be back a month and a half later.

He was very upset about it. You were disappointed, but he was straight pissed.

One hand settled in your jean pocket as he requested you walk with him as far as a civilian could go. Puppy dog eyes when saying goodbye. Lifting his balaclava just enough to kiss you goodbye. Then fucking glowering at everyone else on base.

Just because he wouldn’t get home till the middle of January didn’t mean you couldn’t celebrate Christmas. You would just do it a little later.

In Hallmark movie-fashion, Simon was permitted to go home on December 23rd. Likely from being such a royal pain in everyone’s asses.

So one day early, a big man was creeping through your house. Dropping his gear and uniform on his path from the front door to the bedroom, like a strip tease. That one of you would trip over and shatter your toes on.

According to Simon, you were snoring when he came in. You didn’t stir when he started the shower or when he rifled through the closet to find one pair of his sleep clothes that you hadn’t commandeered. His favorite hoodie had been placed on the biggest pillow, and you had drooled a decent puddle into it.

You finally woke up when he leaned up on you and wrapped himself around you like a weighted blanket.

“Happy Christmas, lovie.”

Incoherent grumble, then a little flail.

“It’s me, lovie. It’s your Simon.”

Less flailing, and instead you wiggled around till you were on your back and Simon’s head rested on your shoulder, pressing kisses against your cheek and neck.

“A good surprise, baby?”

A sleepy smile he more felt and heard than saw.

“Very good surprise, Si. I’m glad you’re here.”

One hand scratched his shower-damp scalp and the other scratched his back. Your hands were cold, but his back was a personal hand heater, and he was long since accustomed to the horrible ice-blocks you called your hands and feet.

“Go back to sleep, lovie. I’ll tell you about it in the morning.”

A sleepy hum. Your leg propped up and then flung itself over his legs. No sneaking off for him, not that he would be awake much longer. Or that, in the dark of the apartment, he had seen the pile of presents under the tree all addressed to him.

Instead of small children jumping on the bed to wake you up for presents (a day early), the cat crawled out of her special blankie on Simon’s side of the bed and decided it was time for breakfast.

The weakest link was home early, so she went straight to Simon. Standing on his back and sniffing him. Then smacking his head until he woke up.

The doormat untangled himself and tucked you back in. The victor leaped off the bed and pranced with her tail up like a flag to her food bowl. Simon was the moron who taught her that breakfast always came at 7AM, so he had to feed her when he was home. When it was just you, the meanest and worst parent, you fed her whenever you decided to wake up. But you also let her sleep in the bed, making a nest out of her special blankie and keeping her warm, whereas he would grab her around the middle and toss.

After feeding the cat, he started piling up his gear out of the walkway. And that’s when he saw the pile of presents.

Like twenty of them. With an array of wrapping papers and bags.

He tiptoed over and knelt in front of them, counting and checking the names. Half of them were for him, and each of his had a matching gift of the same size and wrap for you. According to the tags, all but one of his presents were from you, and all the rest were from the cat.

The cat then stepped on one of the presents, crinkling it loudly and thinking about clawing it. A quick movement of his arm and he had her by the middle and yoinked her into his chest. She looked around in bafflement and then meowed in protest.

Footsteps from the bedroom and you barked a “hey”.

Simon turned with a guilty face.

“Oh, not you baby,” you said, rubbing your face. “I thought the cat was getting into the presents again. I’ve already had to re-wrap things thanks to her Royal Snoopiness and her evil toesies.”

“Evil?” he kissed the cat on the head. “She’s a bomb-sniffing cat.”

“There are no bombs, Simon.” You flopped onto the couch and arranged the pillows to make another nest. “Just gifts. She wants her presents but she doesn’t get them until Christmas morning.”

Simon sat next to your legs and put the cat on your chest. Then leaned in real close and kissed you over her little head.

“Do I have to wait until I get back in January?”

You sat up and pulled him close, the cat leaping off and jumping to the top of her apartment complex. Your hands crept under the hem of his hoodie and pressed into the flaming heat of his back.

“No, baby, you can open them now.”

A kiss. Another kiss. Then he slunk back to the pile of presents and picked up the one the cat had tried to claw open a few minutes earlier. A final look to you, as if asking for permission. Then tore it open. He knew it was an item of clothing, or maybe a blanket. Once he read the front of the hoodie, he burst into laughter.

A skeleton cat holding up both its middle fingers, with ‘Best Cat Dad’ in print beneath it.

“All of the clothes and blankets in there have already been washed, so you can put it on now if you want.”

He hurled his sweatshirt at your head and immediately pulled the new one on. The cat came to investigate and sniffed his sleeves as he opened some of the others.

A new wristband for his watch. Another bottle of his (and your) favorite cologne. Then he grabbed a small gift bag that was very light. You recognized it and started giggling.

He balled the tissue paper and bounced it off your forehead. Then looked into the bag. A beat of silence. You bit your lip and dare not laugh.

He lifted the content between his thumb and forefinger and gave you an incredulous look.

“Are these fuckin’ ‘Hello Kitty’ knickers?”

An unattractive snort and you rolled off the couch.

“Please, Si. Please put them on. For me. It’s a matching set.” You army crawled towards him while wheezing with laughter. “We can match. Please. Please.”

He sling-shot your pair at you and stomped off with the Hello Kitty boxers in his grip. He was going to change in the bathroom. Just for you.

They were… comfortable. He had worn Calvin Klein before, usually when matching with you. But the little pink bows and the cute white cat right on top of his package was not a pattern he would have chosen. He pulled his sweatpants back on and walked out to you with a sigh.

“Alright, I’m wearing the-”

You were sitting on the couch, in your matching Hello Kitty set. Just your matching set. Brown eyes blinked. The two of you were equally surprised at the other. Then it finally clicked, and he jumped and started shucking off his clothes.

“Missed that memo, lovie. Bit slow this morning.”

Enjoy reading this? Here's a link to my other works! Thanks for reading :-)

Posted: 2023 Dec 23

#cod mw2 x reader #ghost x reader #ghost fluff #simon riley fluff #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #cod fluff

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lulublack90 · 5 months ago

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Prompt 8 - Traditional

@jegulus-microfic July 8, Word count 523

When James walked through the door he was greeted by a slew of French curses. He followed the increasingly frustrated sounds to the kitchen.

“Hi, love, what you up to?” James asked, trying hard to hold back his laughter when he caught sight of his fiancé, elbows deep in cake batter and covered in flour.

“Bordel de merde!” (For fucks sake!) Regulus growled as he sieved more flour into the mixture. “Sois juste un gâteau!” (Just be cake!) Regulus didn’t look up from what he was doing and seemed completely unaware that James had come in. “Pourquoi tu ne veux pas travailler?” (Why don’t you want to work?) He cried at the huge bowl. James stood up, Regulus was starting to get overwhelmed, and he knew it was time for him to calm him down.

James wrapped his strong arms around Regulus and took the wooden spoon from his hand. He began stirring the runny mixture, folding the flour into it until it began to thicken. Regulus relaxed against his chest, the tension leaving his body.

“What’s brought all this on, love?” He asked as he turned to pour the batter into the waiting cake tins. Regulus came along with him, trapped by James’s arms.

“We’re going to see your parents, and they were so kind to me last time I wanted to do something nice. Mrs Potter said she really liked cake, so I thought I’d bake a traditional Victoria sponge. The recipe said it was easy, but it was a total lie.” James put down the bowl, wrapped his arms tighter around Regulus, and kissed his neck.

“If Mum hears you calling her Mrs Potter again she’s going to blow a gasket,” He teased as he continued kissing Regulus’s soft skin. “You could have bought a cake, and she’d have loved it.”

“It’s not the same!” Regulus cried out, twisting in James’s arms so he could see his face. “Effie said she loves nothing more than a bit of homemade cake, so that’s what I’m making, because - because…”

“She already loves you Reg," James assured him when the reason for Regulus's mania clicked. "You don’t have to do all this because in her eyes you are family and her love for you is unconditional.” He waited while the myriad of emotions flashed across his face. Eventually, he nodded and let his forehead fall onto James’s chest.

“Can we make the cake anyway? I worked so hard on it. I might just buy a cake for tomorrow as this one is bound to be rubbish.” James grinned down at him.

“Of course, we can love. Though, I bet it’ll be the best cake Mum’s ever had because you made it, if you decide to take it tomorrow.” Regulus rolled his eyes at him but wiggled out of his arms so he could put the tins in the waiting oven.

“Regulus, this is the best Vicky sponge I’ve ever had,” Effie declared as she literally licked her plate clean. Regulus bobbed his head as he flushed beet red.

“Told you so,” James whispered sweetly in his ear before kissing him on the cheek.

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kokofromwattpad · 2 years ago

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BUBBLE BATH TIME!!

Featuring: The overblot gang

Plot: During alchemy, you partnered yourself up with your lover, already knowing how much better they are than you in this type of stuff. By accident, a random student walking by your table knocked over the cauldron, spilling all of it's contents onto your lover. Suddenly, a large cloud of grey smoke erupted around them. Just as quick as the smoke appeared, it disappeared. On the wooden floor was a child version of your lover, sitting their with doe like eyes staring at you. Quickly, Crewel ordered you to take them back to your dorm as clean off any excess chemicals.

Cw: child! Overvlot gang x reader, fluff,

A/N: This came to me while I was in the middle of MY own bath. (it sucked by the way)

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:

Riddle was busy occupying himself on the marble counter, sucking on his chubby little fingers like they were hard candy. You were squatting by the victorian styled bath while warm water flowed from the metal tap. Sighing as you stood up, you walked past little Riddle and opened the beige cupboard where you stored all of your towels and grabbed one at the top of the pile. You set the towel next to Riddle and went to trying to unbutton the child's clothing. You gently picked Riddle up as he grabbed onto your hair as a way to steady himself. You went down on one knee and started to slowly lower Riddle into the bathtub. Because Riddle had unintentionally let go of your hair, he started to panic. He started wiggling in your grasp, trying to get out so he could try and grab onto your hair again. You, however, being much stronger than him in this form, held him a bit farther away from you so that you could properly wash him. Slowly, you dragged the sponge that had already been squirted with body wash up and down Riddle's tiny frame. The red haired child held onto your arm for dear life, scared at what would happen if he would let go. After you rinsed all the excess soap of Riddle you pulled the stopper from the bath's drain and lifted Riddle out from the tub. Riddle whimpered at the cold air as you wrapped him up in the fluffiest towel you had. His chubby cheeks expanded when he brightly smiled at you.

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:

Leona's tail shifted angrily in the air as you placed him on the bathroom ground. He started to angrily babble at your minor negligence as you filled the bathtub with warm water to give the small beastman a cleaning. Leona shifted onto his knees and started to crawl to your calf. He grabbed onto your pant leg and used it as leverage to hoist himself up on his chubby feet. Once the child gained his balance he started to babble madly, trying to regain your attention. Finally, after what Leona felt where years, you picked him up and placed him on the basin counter. You undressed the child from his clothes and neatly folded it on the side. You then went to pick Leona up walked over to the bath. Ever-so-slowly, you began to lower him into the filled bathtub. Now, Leona technically being a cat, he did not like this. He started flailing aggressively, trying to get out of your gentle grasp and escape, but you kept him in your hold and continued to lower him. Once his body entered the tub, he relaxed. He stopped squirming and just stared at his reflection as you cleaned all the gunk from his body and hair.

AZUL ASHENGROTTO:

Eight sticky tentacles spread out like a clock as Azul's big, round eyes stared curiously at you. The octo-mer sat in the overflowing sink, caused by your worry that he may dry up at any second. While you grabbed some towels from your room, Azul babbled loudly about who knows what. Entering the bathroom again, you set the towels on the closed toilet lid and stepped cautiously towards the child version of your boyfriend. You reach your arms out, going to grab him out of the sink, when suddenly, four of Azul's tentacles latch onto your arms. You try to pull the limbs off of you, but just makes Azul whine. Begrudgingly, you let the boy wrap all his tentacles on your arms. You streached your arms out as far away as you can from your face. Azul's eyes start to sparkle when he is placed into the bathtub full of water. He happily swims around the edge of the bath and does a few happy spins to show his appreciation towards you. Gently, you bring the damp cloth over to his human half and start to slowly wipe him down from the left over potion. The boy grabs onto his round stomach, indicating that he was getting hungry after the short time of his swimming session.

JAMIL VIPER:

Jamil had a calm and collected look, even as a child. Somehow, Kalim had caught word of what happened to his friend and had rushed over to make sure that he was okay. Kalim retells stories of his and Jamil's childhood while you prepare and extra set of clothes for the newly turned child. Kalim sighs and walks over to where Jamil was waiting for you and started to gently pinch and the boy's soft cheeks. He then squeals loudly, alerting you. You run over to the two Scarabia students, only to see Kalim squeezing Jamil's cheeks while the said boy looks at Kailm with the most pissed off look that he could give. You pull Kalim off Jamil, sit the vice-housewarden onto your hip and walk back to the bathroom, with the white haired boy tailing after you. The bathtub was filled with fluffy bubbles. Kalim rolled his sleeves up in preparation while you sat the young boy in the shallow water. When Kalim tried to bring a sponge to Jamil's body, the boy flung water right at the housewarden as a warning not to touch him. Kalim just started to laugh at the other boy's action and just ignored him as he guided the sponge all over Jamil's small body.

VIL SCHOENHEIT:

The younger Vil had started to whine while you were walking to Ramshakle as a sign for you to hurry the hell up since he was starting to smell. As soon as you entered the bathroom, Vil's whining had stopped immediately. You placed him on the counter top to prepare some towels for him. As you were doing that, Vil tried to get dressed by himself. However, because of his newly acquired chubby and inexperienced hands, in was quite a challenge to get his shirt off and he was starting to get pissed. Small, clear tears rose from the ends of his eyes and rolled gently down his chubby cheeks. When you finally got the best towels you had on hand, you noticed the soft sniffling coming from the little model. You rushed over to the boy, cooing praises of how difficult it must be because of his shrunken body. You wiped the tears away from his eyes and then gently unbuttoned his small white shirt. Vil was a very happy child after he got all the remnants of the catastrophe off his body.

IDIA SHROUD:

Idia was quite a sensitive child. He always looked like he was about to cry at any second and that just made your heart twist a little. You held him extremely close to your chest as ran all the way to Ramshackle, as to make sure that nobody saw your boyfriend-turned-child. You blew out a breath you didn't now you were holding in when you finally entered the safety of your dorm. Idia was clutching extremely tight onto your school shirt as he hid his face into your chest. While walking up the stairs, you wonder if Idia's hair would go out if it was put under water. You however found out that it, in fact, not go out. Idia looked like he was close to balling his eyes out every time you walked away from the tub to fetch something. But when Grim finally walked into the bathroom, the little boy smiled a bright toothy grin while reaching his arms out as if he was reaching for a trophy. When Grim finally left you and the baby alone, Idia started crying crocodile tears and wailing out, "Kitty! Kitty!"

MALLEUS DRACONIA:

While you and the now smaller version of your boyfriend were still in the classroom, someone had ran out to call Malleus's guards and Lilia. The former general was laughing hysterically at the situation you were thrown in, Silver was rocking the slime covered baby and Sebek was screaming loudly at you, saying how its your fault that his young master was turned into a baby and how his reputation is going to ruined because of you. Malleus was starting to tear up from Sebek's harsh words. Lilia noticed this and tried to console the little boy, but that just made Malleus whine loudly. When Sebek had finally finished his screaming session, he turned to Malleus and picked him up as to give him a proper scrubbing, when the prince turned his head angrily away from the half-fae. Sebek's face fell from it's prideful expression and silently moved away from the baby. When Malleus turned his head back in your direction, he pulled his arms in front of him and started making grabby hands towards you. You obliged and held the sticky baby in your arms as he giggled loudly at your action. And so, with the supervision of Lilia, you washed the prince all teh way from his horns to his chubby toes.

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quixotical-lymbo · 6 months ago

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Pairing: Macaque & GN!Reader Rating: SFW Summary: Training alongside MK made you realize just how useless you are compared to the monkey king's golden student. A certain six eared macaque has something to say about that. Warnings: Brief mention/implication of blood, use of the nickname 'babe' in a condescending way, cussing and self-deprecating thoughts. Word Count: 960 words

The taste of iron made you recoil inwardly.

It did not help that the humidity of the unofficial training grounds made it harder to swallow the vile taste down your throat.

While you were crouched and staring mindlessly at the ground, a shadow fell over your form.

"Tired?" The voice snarked. "It's only been five minutes, babe, are you sure you can keep up?"

The corner of your eye twitched as you looked up to glare at the dark-furred monkey under the hood of sweat gathering on your eyelashes.

Five minutes? More like five hours...but you didn't voice your thoughts as you rose to stand again.

"Yeah, yeah," You grunted.

Your gaze strayed to look at the headband donning male training a few feet away from your spot. Macaque followed your gaze and smiled as he gestured to MK.

"He hasn't even broken a sweat since we've started, honestly, I'm impressed," Macaque murmured before peeking at you from the corner of his eye. "You on the other hand...well, you'll do your best, right?"

With that lingering sentence hanging in the air, Macaque sunk into the shadows and disappeared.

"You'll do your best, right? Bitch," You mocked with rolling eyes as you stretched to prepare for another hour of exercising.

It hadn't even been half an hour before you were on the ground, limbs spread, and body drenched in sweat. From a distance, you could faintly hear the occasional 'haa!' and staff being swung fiercely.

So, not only were you tired and wetter than a sponge, but you also couldn't even keep up with those two.

A deep exhale left through your mouth as you turned on your side with your eyes squeezed shut.

Of course, you couldn't keep up. You were you and everything that anyone has said about you.

Weak, slow, dumb, not enough--

"What are you doing?"

You groaned as you curled into yourself more.

"Quitting, resting, whatever fits the fantasy inside your head, just leave me alone."

Macaque rose a brow at your lackluster tone. It didn't even have its usual bite to it whenever you snapped back at his remarks.

Silence fell over the two once more.

...

Macaque sucked in air through his teeth before sitting on his haunches behind your back, he placed his hands on his knees and began, "Look, kid, do you wanna talk about it or do you want to keep wallowing alone while MK gets better and better without you-"

"-I don't care, let him!" You hissed. "At least he's showing progress...I've only managed to slightly improve my stamina, but what else do I have? Nothing! I can't last two seconds in a fight with either of you and MK hasn't even trained for that long and I...I'm...fuck...just-"

You buried your face into your elbow and mumbled, "-leave."

Macaque blinked a few times as he mulled over your outburst. He looked over his shoulder to see MK already looking at the two of you with a concerned expression.

Macaque sighed before the corners of his lips curved into a smirk.

You waited for Macaque's inevitable exit, but instead, you were met with a heavy weight on top of your body. It wasn't a pleasant feeling all things considered. Did I forget to mention that it was hot as hell outside and you were already a sweaty mess? Macaque had fur and he wasn't in any better condition than you.

"Huh-..wha-" You wheezed. You uncurled from the pity party ball and tried to crawl out from under the monkey. No dice.

You glanced up to see Macaque's wide smile glaring down at you.

"What's the matter, babe? Stuck?" Macaque asked.

"Get the hell off! You're fucking crushing me!" You wiggled and writhed before giving up. The thought of calling MK for help crossed your mind before Macaque's laughter made you pause.

"Why don't you try getting me off? Oh, wait, I forgot, you can't cuz you're human," Macaque continued as he directed his shit-eating grin to the blue sky above. "Compared to me, you're much weaker, slower, and perhaps even stupider."

"Fuck you."

"No thanks, but back on topic...do you wanna know why you can't even hold a candle to me or even MK?" Macaque asked. You opened your mouth to speak but eventually closed it as you looked at the ground.

"It's simple really, you're you."

"Oh, how original, it's not like I already know what's wrong with me, Macaque," You whispered.

"Heh, it's not what's 'wrong' with you...it's more like...you grow differently, yeah! Like that."

"I don't follow."

Macaque clicked his tongue before shifting to lay on his stomach, his weight still pining you beneath him.

"You're different from me and MK, that's for sure, but me and MK are also different from each other," Macaque continued. "You honestly don't believe that everyone's progress has to be the same, do you? Some people train and get quick results while others don't, that's natural."

"And you're saying this...because...?" You squinted at the demon.

"Because," Macaque swatted the back of your head, eliciting another curse to spill from your dried lips. "You shouldn't feel too bad about falling behind, Rome wasn't built in a day and neither are you."

"..." You stayed silent as his words finally processed in your head. Your cheeks felt...warm as the comforting words reached the darkest part of your thoughts.

"Thanks," You managed to cough out as the moment passed and now it was starting to get weird.

"Don't mention it."

Macaque sat up from his comfy chair and frowned as he turned to look at you. "Seriously, don't say a word about this to anyone, especially MK."

You finally let out a laugh yourself as you dusted yourself off after standing.

"I won't."

🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight!!

#lmk macaque #monkie kid macaque #macaque x reader #macaque & reader #lego monkie kid #lmk mk #six eared macaque #kinda fluff #light angst

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linomilkers · 10 months ago

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part 2 of the Minho/Felix/Reader threesome! Let me know if you want more!!

part 1

[warnings: oral (male receiving), kissing, use of the nickname 'Puppy', Felix and Reader being whores (endearing)]

ii.

Y/N and Felix are both filthy.

Minho had always known they were to some extent, from late night conversations and a few too many glasses of wine. It was one thing to hear about their perverted thoughts and lewd desires, and it was another thing to witness it -- to be apart of it. All it took was him agreeing for them to jump into it; there was no slow build up. The last few months with them had been the slow build up, when Minho thinks about it, every flirty comment and caress and short skirt or low riding sweatpants leading to this moment.

They both keep kissing him like they'll wither away if they don't; like the inside of his mouth has something to keep them alive. It's messy and wet, Y/N sucks on his tongue while Felix kisses down his throat, and Minho's cock throbs in his pants almost painfully. Their hands are everywhere on him, and they feel so similar to each other that he has trouble telling who is where. The only thing that even kind of helps him differentiate who is who was that Y/N dances with more feather light touches, skimming along spots that tickle while Felix was more firm, going for his nipples, the space above his waistband.

When Y/N needs a break to breathe, Felix replaces her, their tongues pressing together for a moment when they switch spots (Minho sees it, he has to close his eyes immediately after so he doesn't cum). She kisses Minho's cheeks, down the opposite side of his neck Felix was preoccupied with. In between sponging her lips to his throat, she murmured, "We wanna taste you," her hands pushed the hem of his shirt further up his chest, revealing his torso -- normally Minho is hesitant about letting others see his bare stomach and chest but he couldn't even focus enough to worry about it, "Can we? Wanna feel you in my mouth."

Felix parts so Minho could answer. He's blinking fast, like he's trying to make sure the image of them won't blur and fade away into the afterthought of an immaculate daydream. He nods and Y/N smiles wide, like he just told her he had a gift for her, and she wastes no time peppering kisses down his chest. Felix titters, low and warm, his voice sounds so much deeper like this, "Thank god," he drags his fingers through Minho's hair, threading through the strands, "If you'd denied her this, she probably would have cried."

"Shut up," she grumbled, her lips moving against his skin, "You want to just as bad." There's no heat behind their banter -- it's playful and practiced in a way that tells Minho they've done this before and it makes something burn in his chest. He'd never claimed not to be a jealous person, and the fact that someone else. . .potentially multiple people. . .have gotten to experience this in the way he is. . . .he has no right to be jealous but he is.

He definitely felt something for them, he could admit as much. What that something is he doesn't know, and he's never cared to explore it, but what he does know is that he feels comfortable with them. More comfortable than he's felt with many people, and he's let them in on aspects of his life that even his closest friends aren't privy to. One day he should probably dive into it, figure himself out.

One day, but not today. Today, he's going to enjoy this for all it's worth.

Y/N undoes his belt with deft fingers and wiggles the jeans down as Felix slips down to the space beside her -- he presses Minho's legs open further to accommodate the both of them more readily. The sight of them both between his thighs is enough to make his cock twitch again, throbbing hard in his briefs. They see it; Y/N coos excitedly, smiling wide when she leans in and noses at the bulge, "So cute," she murmured, while Felix drags his top row of teeth along Minho's thigh. Her tongue lulls from her mouth, the broad of it strokes along the fabric stretched over his erection and Minho gasps "Ahh, I wanna make you cum so badly."

Felix giggles, warm and low, and the hand he isn't using to grip Minho's calf reaches up to pet at Y/N's head, "She's kind of messy, Hyung," he warned blithely, "Acts like an overexcited puppy. If she's being too much you can scold her like one too, she likes that."

She whines but doesn't deny it, fingers snaking in the waistband of his underwear and pulling it down. Minho's cock rises, unrestricted by the fabric and she waits all of three seconds before opening her mouth wide and taking the tip between her lips. With a gasp, Minho's hips twitch, shoving him a little further inside and Y/N accepts it graciously, even when he gives a breathless sorry for the sudden movement. "You don't have to apologize," Felix supplies, slotting his fingers into her hair and gripping at the root, "She likes when you're a little mean. A disgusting little puppy, isn't she?"

Minho is gathering that Y/N likes the humiliation of it, or at least he hopes so, because Felix is hitting kind of hard with it. She doesn't confirm or deny whether she's into it or not because she's slurping and sucking him down like she was made for it. Felix combs his fingers through Minho's hair, brushing it back from his face -- he'd let it grow longer than he usually would. That may or may not be because when he said he was going to get it cut they both pouted at him and begged him not to, and he's nothing if not a sucker for a pretty face pleading with him.

"Lix," Y/N whines from between his thighs, her mouth just barely ghosting over the tip and when Felix hums in response, she huffs through her nose, "Come help me, he's too big to handle all by myself."

She's playing it up, sure -- Minho isn't small, but he isn't so huge that she couldn't handle him alone. Still, the words make his cock throb hard because he's only a man and the thought of someone thinking he was too big for anything sent him in a tizzy. Precum oozes from the tip, and Y/N licks it away just as fast.

Felix, chuckling, lowered from his spot half way on top of Minho and halfway on the couch. He slips down to the floor and squeezes beside Y/N in between Minho's legs. Minho has to close his eyes tight, his head tilting back as he took a slow, shaky breath, "Heyyyy," Y/N dug her nails into his thigh, "Watch us."

"I can't," he swallowed thickly, "I'll fucking cum immediately if I do."

"But --"

"Be nice Y/N," Minho can feel Felix's breath wash over his cock, and he twitches hard because of it, "Hm? Don't you want to be nice to our Minnie?"

It's so interesting, Minho thinks, how vastly their dynamic changes when this is the context. Y/N is normally the one guiding Felix but he does so with such efficiency right now, you would think it was like this all of the time. She listens to him too, easily, shown in the way that she stops whining and instead traces her tongue over the spot on his thigh where he knew her nails had left little claw marks. Like an unspoken apology, and Minho reaches out blindly, finding her head and stroking her hair, his silent, It's okay.

At first he isn't sure who licks him first, their tongue soft and flat, confidently sliding from the base to the tip. Then Y/N outs that it was Felix, a soft murmur of, "Is it good?"

"Mm," he feels a hand around the base, small, gentle, tilting it toward her, "Why don't you see for yourself?"

Y/N isn't hesitant, pulling the head of his cock between her lips with zero preamble and both she and Minho moan in tandem. She doesn't pull away, instead her tongue lulls around the tip like she's trying desperately to taste all of him. Minho does finally peek his eye open, because he has to -- when she's making noises like the one's she's making, he needs to see what she's doing, and god, it's filthy.

She's got just the head tucked into her mouth but she's not hovered over his lap in a way that obscure his view. No, Minho can see quite clearly how her lips encase just the tip, and how her eyes flutter closed when she experimentally suckles, drawing more precum into her velvety mouth. Her face is soft, her features scream nothing but content.

Felix still sits beside her, his gaze fond, his hand -- the one not on Minho's hip, is petting idly at the back of her head, down toward her nape, "You're being greedy, pup," he chided, "You want it all to yourself, hm? Want his cum to fill your filthy mouth?" She nodded, whining a pitiful sound, "And what about me?"

As if he'd just reminded her, her eyes flutter open and she opens her mouth, pulling away from Minho's cock. Spit and his juices cling to her lips, thin, web-like trails that bow and snap between them and her fucked out gaze lands on Minho for a moment before she pouted and looked at the brunette beside her, "Sorry Lix," she murmured, then opens her mouth obediently, despite Felix having said nothing.

Turned out he didn't have to, because apparently this is just a thing they did. Felix leans in and licks into her mouth, like he's tasting Minho off of her tongue. He sucks on it and her bottom lip, the hand on her nape firm, his fingers curled into her hair but Minho thinks that he probably wouldn't need to keep her still, she would have stayed put all by herself.

His cock twitches at the sight before him, another pearl beads up at the tip and trickles down the head like a tear, sad at being forgotten. Of course he doesn't have to worry about that with the two sluttiest (he says it endearingly) people he's ever met sat between his legs. Felix guides her over toward Minho, their lips still attached, and they stay attached, even when he's in between.

The head of his dick is between their lips as they kiss, and he throbs so violently he thinks it was probably felt through the whole block like a shift in the ground. They're soft, and filthy, and it's so wet as they pass him back and forth, slurping him up, then licking over each other's tongues, and someone's hands slide down to play with his balls, that are slick now, from all the spit dripping down his shaft. Minho is surprised by how long he'd lasted up to that point, but all it takes is for both of them to moan softly, like this alone was all they needed to get off, before he's cumming.

It was intense -- probably the most intense orgasm he thinks he's ever had in his life. His toes curl and his back arches and the first ribbon spurts from the tip between, high into the air. Y/N makes a sad noise, the same sound she makes if she drops part of her snack on the ground, and fixes her lips around him to catch the subsequent shots. But it seems like Felix had taught her a lesson in sharing because she doesn't keep it to herself, she opens her mouth and lets him lick it out of her, and jesus christ his cock doesn't show any signs of flagging. Not after he's finished cumming, the last bits of it drooling over the tip while they swallow and turn their attention back to him.

Both of their lips are swollen and red as they kiss up his torso, carefully avoiding is sensitive, still twitching erection. Y/N's fingers curl up in the fabric at the front of his shirt, and Felix sinks his hand into Minho's hair now, guiding him into a kiss. This time, Y/N patiently waits for her turn instead of whining -- she sponges kisses on his neck, against his drumming pulse, then up his jaw, and peckish, more tender kisses against his reddened ear and his cheeks.

Minho is overwhelmed in the best of ways, with Felix's tongue in his mouth and Y/N's lips all over him. Their hands smooth all over his chest, thumbing over his nipples, dragging their nails carefully over his hips, his stomach. They're delicate and soft and gentle. He moans -- he's usually not that vocal, but it's hard to keep himself quiet with how good this feels.

Whenever Felix parts from him, Minho gets one second to suck in a breath before Y/N's mouth replaces his. Y/N is more urgent now, sucking his bottom lip into her mouth, "Be careful with him," Felix murmured tenderly, and Y/N listens, her movements a little softer. Minho shivers when she parts her lips for him, lets him slip his tongue inside and lick the taste of himself.

When she finally backs away, Minho is sucking in lungfuls of breath, trembling. Felix coaxes Y/N over to his side of the sofa, and she carefully crawls over Minho's lap to get to him. She leans back against him, her back pressed to his torso, but she's sunk a little lower so her head is resting against his shoulder. Felix rolls the hem of her dress up over her hips, takes her thighs in both of his hands and pulls them both up, spreading her out and slipping them between the pits of her knees, "Look how messy her pussy is for you, Hyung," he murmured, and Minho really didn't need the direction, because he was already staring. The fabric was cotton and soaked through, he could see the outline of her puffy pussy right through it. His mouth watered and he blinked rapidly, biting on his bottom lip so hard he's surprised he doesn't chew right through it.

"Does your pussy always get this wet?" Minho inquired, but before Y/N could answer, Felix answers for her.

"Only when I bring you up," he pressed his cheek to the top of her head, smiling, "She thinks you're dreamy, don't you Puppy?"

"Mhm," Y/N agreed, "Will you -- will you fuck me please Min? I promise I feel good, Lixie always says I do."

Minho thinks, maybe he should play into it. He's usually much better equipped with a sharp, filthy tongue when it comes to sex but they had thrown him so completely off guard he'd lost his usual bluster and finesse. But he clicks his tongue, places his hands just below Felix's and lets his nails dig into the flesh of her thighs, "Is that right?"

"Yes, Hyung," his cheek is still pressed against her head, and the both of them are looking at him with such fuck me eyes that Minho could explode, "A warm, tight, wet hug -- she squirts too."

He trembled, scooting closer.

"I guess I'll have to feel for myself then."

#stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know smut #lee felix smut #lee felix x reader

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pancakeke · 4 months ago

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its a chunk of melamine sponge wrapped in foil with finishing nails poked in it lol.

I washed the nails so they would have good contact. the nails stick out the back btw. passing through the foil twice made them register as taps better. there's a piece of masking tape over the foil that touches the screen to avoid extra contact and also prevent scratching my phone to hell.

also the nails are not secured to anything, they're just held in by the sponge. i don't have to pick it up and set it down to tap btw just wiggling it around registers lots of taps.

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pretty-little-whorror · 2 months ago

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Rough House - Ash Williams

AvED Ash smut bc i still need him. This ones been sitting in my drafts since December ish so i thought i would finish it.

wc: 4.1k

tags: older man/younger woman(age is never specified, written in mind with a 20-something), "outdoor" sex, kinda public sex, car sex but not like normal, almost getting caught, p in v sex, oral(fem receiving), light nipple play, unprotected sex, cream pie, light fighting, mentions toward canon style violence. not completely proof read I just searched for the underlined words.

Ash sat in the aged lawn chair, watching as you grumpily worked to wash the Deadite guts off of his car. He was rather pleased with himself, finding not only a way to pawn chores onto someone else, but to ogle at your figure as you bent over the hood of his car. As for you, the hot summer weather does nothing to ease your mood. You grabbed another sponge from the bucket while you silently cursed Kelly and Pablo for running off on a grocery run before you had the mind to.

After finishing his beer with one long gulp, he crumpled it with his metal hand and tossed it somewhere behind him. Hearing the aluminum can hit the ground, your eyes met the sky impatiently. “Really?” You sighed, his behavior only adding to your aggravation.

“Hm?” He hummed in response as he leaned over in his chair to grab another can from the cooler placed next to him.

“Seriously? You can’t even throw your own shit out?” You turned to him, a soapy hand resting on your hip.

“Oh please, sugar, I hardly think it matters. I’ve done worse. Pick it up if it bothers you so much.” He shrugged, a careless grin plastered across his mug. The pop of the metal tab sounded deafening as he opened up his next beer.

“I swear to God, Ash if you don’t pick up that fucking can, I’m gonna shove it so far up your ass you’re gonna be burping aluminum for the next week.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender as he raised himself from the chair. “Easy there, darling, no need to get all worked up.” He walked back to where the can had landed. “I’ll pick up the ‘fucking can’” he mocked. You let out a sigh, deciding to ignore him for your own sake. You turned back to the car and used the sponge to push a chunk of what was maybe brain at one point onto the gravel. You winced as it landed with a heavy ‘splat’.

“Oh, come on now sugar, a little manual labor never hurt no one. We’ll be finished in no time, then you can go get your beauty rest.” He said as he settled back into his chair. “Or maybe do some sunbathing, I can always help with the sunscreen.”

“We?” You snapped back toward him. “There has been no ‘we’, Ash, just you working on getting day drunk while I clean your fucking car!.”

“Well then you can’t say I’m not working.” He winked with his trademark cocky, full-of-himself grin. “Besides, I’m supervising. Making sure everything is up to my incredibly high standards.”

“Then how about you finish this shit up then, yeah? It’s too fucking hot out for me to be dealing with you.”

Ash feigned offense, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. “Oh how you wound me with your words. Can’t you see, baby? The sweat, the heat, the hard work, that’s all part of the Ash Williams experience. I’ve got to save my hands for more delicate matters.” He wiggled his hand with a wink. “Besides, if you do a good job maybe we can go get a drink.” He bounced his brows.

“Only if I can drown you in it.” You gave him a poisoned sweet smile with a glare.

He again rose from the chair and walked over to the car, standing next to you as you cleaned. “You just need a little bit more elbow grease, sweetheart. Once we're done we can try something else to ease those troubles of yours, hm?”

“Right now you’re my only frustration.” You remarked, turning your back to him. “Pablo should be doing this, he’s the one with the shit aim.” You sighed.

“Yeah and I’m making him buy our provisions as punishment. Besides, you have me here for moral support and expert supervision. It would be irresponsible of me to let you miss out on all the valuable life lessons I have to offer.”

You ignored him again, wringing the sponge out over the bucket before dipping it into the clean bucket full of suds.

“But, if you don’t think you have the mental capacity to learn a thing or two from my noggin, I can always find someone who can.”

“Now, you know better than to threaten me with a good time, Ashley.” You didn’t even turn to face him as you spoke.

“Oh, come one now sweetheart, once a lady gets a taste of what Ash Williams has to offer, they always come back asking for more.” He shrugged and took a sip from his drink as he turned to walk back to his chair.

Deciding that he had finally run your patience too thin, you let out an annoyed groan and chucked the sponge at his back. “Fuck you! Clean your own fucking car!” You shouted at him as he slowly turned around with a surprised, albeit impressed, look on his face.

“Oh fine, fine. Don’t get your panties in a twist, sugar cake. I can finish cleaning my baby. I’m sure she needs a gentle touch after what you’ve done with her.”

You rolled your eyes again but continued to walk away, deciding you were done with him until you found something, a lot of something, to drink. However, as soon as you were no more than a pace or two in front of him on your way back to the trailer, you felt a heavy stream of water hit your back. The unexpected force almost pushing you forward. You snapped around to see Ash holding the hose with the biggest shit eating grin on his face. Seeing red, you quickly closed the distance between the two of you and you swiped at his feet, sending him falling to the ground, dropping the hose on his descent.

“Jesus fucking Christ” He shouted as his back hit the gravel floor. “At least you're not throwing a temper tantrum.” He winced as he got up, wiping down his pants after his fall. You turn back around, trying again to go back to the trailer for the second time, but then his voice again grated against your ears. “Now do you have it all out of your system or did you wanna tangle a little more?”

Taking the bait, you turn around again and made the same move to knock him down again. Now prepared to use his years-honed reflexes, he sidestepped out of dodge as you lunged at him. As you went past him he grabbed your arm, using your momentum against you. He twisted your arm behind your back and pushed you up against the newly cleaned, still wet car with a firm grip.

“Oh come on now, baby, let’s channel that energy into something physical that’s a little less violent, hm?” He chuckled, his breath fanning against the nape of your neck.

You took a second to take in your situation, bent over the Delta by Ash and your face flushed red, however less from anger this time. Not caring for the predicament you whipped your head up, the back of your skull hitting his jaw, causing him to bust his lip open on his teeth. He stumbled back, allowing her to stand up. He raised his left hand to his bleeding lip, an expression of surprise once again painted on his face, however the corners of his mouth curled into a playful smile.

You looked over him, not able to take in his full figure given the lack of space between the two of you. Initially, you had resented the smile that played on his lips, but you almost felt a sort of release. Finally being able to take out your frustrations, not only from Ash, but from the continuous pile of shit you had been navigating through these past few months.

“Now where’s that spitfire when we need-”

Before we was able to finish, you bent down and grabbed the hose from off the ground and whipped it at his side. The stream of water avoiding him but spraying all over the side of the Airstream as a result. Ash yelped in surprise as he narrowly avoided his face being doused in water. He chuckled at your resourcefulness and raised his hands as a white flag. As worked his way towards you, you decided you weren’t done yet and again repeated the move to swipe his legs out from under him with your own. Only narrowly avoiding the move this time, he only tipped a little over your before regaining his balance. You balled your hand into a fist and pulled back, ready to throw a punch but he again caught your arm, pushing it flush against your chest and using it to maneuver you back to the car, the back of your legs hitting the side of the hood.

“You’ve gotta get another move in your deck, baby.” He chuckled. “Besides, I'm getting a little tired of this. Now are we done or do you have something else you’d like to try?” He pulled back on your arm, moving your torso forward just a bit as a subtle, but surprisingly un-obnoxious show of his current power over you. You didn’t talk back, just staring up at him. Luckily you had worked yourself up during your brief spat, allowing the blush coming over your face a pliable excuse. You wanted to say your next move was nothing more than impulsive but deep down you knew better.

You pulled against his grip, not in an attempt to free yourself, but instead to bring him down to your level. Still having to balance on your toes, you brought your lips harshly up to his, able to taste the blood you had caused to accumulate not more than five minutes ago. You could feel him smirk against your lips, but you were past getting annoyed at his hubris. His grip on your wrist loosened as he pushed into the kiss and you felt the cool metal of his right hand on your side through the dampened fabric of your t-shirt.

“Now that’s the kinda move I’m talking about.” He spoke, barely separating his mouth from yours.

“You’re not gonna shut up, are you?” You grumbled, completely freeing yourself from his wrist and running your hand over his clothed chest.

“Well there’s a few other things I can do with my trap.” He winked. You rolled your eyes again, he was always gonna be this cheesy.

“Why don’t we just focus on being quiet for now, hm?” You patted his chest as he smirked, closing the distance between your lips once again. He took the opportunity to pull at your bottom lip with his teeth, an unspoken request you granted by sighing into the kiss, your other arm wrapping around his shoulder in time.

As his tongue pushed into your mouth, his hands falling onto either side of your waist, gently running the distance between there and the curve of your hips before he gently patted your ass, a silent signal you followed by jumping up onto the hood of the car and spreading your legs enough for him to stand between. Now settled, his hands crept up beneath your shirt, separating the wet fabric from your skin as left snaked a path up to your bra, reaching around the back to expertly unclasp the garment in a single move.

Deciding it was well past your turn, your hands worked on undoing the first few buttons of the henley, allowing enough space for you to run a hand over his chest, your fingers lightly dancing through the dark hair peeking through. You then tugged the shirt out of the waistband of his pants.

His hands moved down, palming yours hungrily through the fabric of your jeans. He undid them quickly and lifted you slightly off the hood in order to discard them completely.

“Shit baby,” He murmured, his lips millimeters away from your ear, his hot breath fanning over the shell. “You’ve got no clue how long I’ve been waiting to get into your shorts.”

“Oh, I think I’ve got some sort of idea.” You teased back, undoing his belt and sliding it through the loops of his jeans.

“So you just let me sit there like a begging dog?”

“Consider it a test of patience.” You smirked as you brought your lips back to his. While you hoped that would have silenced him, he had proven you wrong.

“First test I’ve ever passed.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’d believe that.” You unlatched your arms from around his neck to get rid of your wet shirt and bra. “You barely passed this one.”

"It's hard to study when I'm hot for teacher."

You rolled your eyes at his remark as he explored your newly exposed skin, his hands cupping your breasts, the cool metal of his right hand a stark contrast to the warmth of his other. He circled his thumbs over your hardened nipples, eliciting a soft gasp from you. He pressed his mouth to your jawline as he continued to paw and knead at your breasts, slowly trailing a path from your neck, then down to your collarbone, to the valley between your breasts. His lips eventually landing on your nipple, tongue swirling around the hardened peak as his left hand fondled the other.

Eventually, he raised his head to bring his lips to yours again, kissing you hot and messy. His fingers moved down your stomach, undoing your shorts and pulling them down your legs, you helped to kick them off once they fell down to your ankles. He gave a quick nip to your bottom lip before pulling away. He brought his hands up briefly to gently push at your shoulders.

"Go ahead and lay back for me, sweet thing."

You complied eagerly, the cool metal of the car hood against your heated skin sent a shiver down your spine. His gaze was heavy as he raked over your body, taking in every curve and contour of your body sprawled out on his car. He couldn't help but smile at the sight before stepping away for a moment. You gave him a quizzical look as he made his way towards the lawn chair he had been sat in earlier.

"Uh, hello?" You spoke up, propping yourself up on your elbows. You watched with a raised brow as he brought the chair back over to where you laid on the car.

"Give an old guy a break, yeah?" He smirked, sitting back down. The old, beaten chair just low enough to place him right between your legs. He tugged at the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs. However, instead of tossing them aside like your shorts, he pocketed the fabric into his jeans, giving you a wink as he did so. His eyes glinted with mischief and desire as his hands ran up and down your thighs, eventually propping them over his shoulders. He lips pecked on the soft flesh of your inner thigh before settling at the apex between your legs.

His tongue dipped into your folds, lapping at the arousal coating your core. He groaned as your taste coated his tongue, his grip on your thighs tightening.

His motions started exploratory, paying close attention to the reactions each movement was able to elicit from you. While his ministrations has started small, they quickly matched those of a man starved; you felt his nose bump your clit as he delved into your dripping cunt, savoring every movement as if this would be his last meal.

Your hand reached down to where his head was buried between your legs, your fingers weaving through his hair and gripping hard onto the locks.

"Goddamn, Ash." You sighed, arching your back and instinctively pushing your hips forward. You could hear him chuckle, the sound reverberating through you in a subtle vibration. His left hand that had been gently gripping at your thigh trailed up to join his tongue, his fingers dancing around your entrance, collecting the slick signs of your arousal on his fingertips.

He slowly pushed the digits in, causing your grip on his hair to tighten. He began to pump his fingers, the movements beginning as slow and tantalizing, however they quickly began to match his own impatience. The combination of his tongue eagerly lapping at your swollen clit and his fingers spreading you open causes that all too familiar and welcome tension to start tightening in your core.

"Fuck...Fuck I'm gonna cum!" Your words were breathless and whiny. His metallic hand patted your thigh encouragingly.

"C'mon baby," He groaned, his words becoming less muffled as he withdrew his head from between your legs, replacing the attention on your clit with pressured circling from his thumb. "Cum for me baby, all over my hand, c'mon."

It took only a few more deliberate movements before you came undone on his hand, a jumbled string of whines and curses expelling from your mouth in time. He slowed his movements, as if to help you down from the high before withdrawing his hand and standing back up, pushing the chair away with the back of his thighs. He leans down, kissing sloppily from the crook of your neck up to your lips as you came to all while muttering reassurances.

"Such a pretty, perfect little pussy for me. Not fair for you to be hiding that, hm?" You moaned into his kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue.

"So pretty when you cum baby, want you to cum on my cock this time, yeah?" He pushed his jeans down, the cloth of his boxers going with them, allowing his hard and aching cock to spring free. He wasted no time positioning himself between your legs, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance.

"Ash," You whined. "Stop teasing." Your plea was met in reply with a confident smirk.

"Oh c'mon now, nothing you can't handle."

"Please..." You whimpered, your hips bucking up in an attempt to draw him in deeper. "Just fuck me already."

"Well if you're gonna ask so nicely." He grinned, slowly thrusting forward, letting you get accustomed to his size as he pushed himself in inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt. "Goddamn," He dropped his head as he hovered over you, his movements still. "So fucking good, so nice n' wet for me."

He began to move, his hips setting a steady rhythm as he pumped in and out of you, each thrust sending engulfing your nerves in red hot pleasure. As his pace increased, you could hear the car creak beneath the two of you, the sound mingling with your moans and the wet slap of skin against skin.

Ash used his metal hand to anchor him to the hood of the car, allowing his left hand to roam your body, eventually landing on again kneading the plump flesh of your breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers. You moved your legs up from his hips to wrap around his waist, pulling yourself closer and allowing him to plunge into you deeper and hitting that perfect, sensitive spot inside you with each stroke.

"Ash- fuck, right there." You gasped. "Just like that." You arched your back up, pushing your hips up to meet his each heavy thrust, tension again coiling tight in your core. He groaned in response to your words, his movements becoming more shallow but focusing on making sure he fucks you deep where you want him.

"You gonna cum again for me? Cum all over my cock?" His hand left your chest moved down to your hip, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he moved you in time with his thrusts, angling himself so that he was grinding against your clit every time his hips met yours. The combination of sensations pushing you closer to the edge, your body trembling as the increasing pleasure brings you to the brink of your orgasm.

"Gonna," You breathed out, "Gonna cum again, Ash." You whined, writhing underneath him.

"Yeah baby, me too." He groaned, closing his eyes as he tried to focus on his movements, regardless his thrusts had begun to turn more erratic and less focused as his own climax approached. The cool metal of his right hand came down to the other side of your hip, allowing his other hand to again move and slide between your legs. His fingers gathering some of your slick from where the two of you connected before circling tight over your swollen and overly sensitive clit. The added sensation causing an almost pornographic moan to slip through your parted lips. Your body tensed, muscles tightening in preparation for the heavy climax his actions promised you.

"Shit, oh my God-" Your words were cut off by a knife-sharp gasp as your orgasm hit you like a heavy wave. Your walls clamped down around him, pulsing in time with your heavy breaths. Feeling you tighten around him, Ash let out a guttural groan, almost baring his teeth.

"Fuck, baby, you're so tight. Gonna cum." He shuddered, his final thrusts rushed and erratic before burying himself deep inside of you as he found his own release, cock pulsing as he painted your velvet walls with thick ropes of his cum. You mewled, your oversensitive cunt feeling heavy from the passing bliss of your orgasm combined with sensation of the additional fullness of his release.

As the final moments of your climaxes subsided, Ash carefully pulled away from you, his softening cock slipping from your well-used heat, causing a quiet whine to leave your mouth, pouting from the sudden emptiness. He took a moment, still panting, before stuffing himself back into his boxers and up his jeans.

"Goddamn, sugar. Haven't had a fuck like that in years." He said, marveling and taking in the look of you still blissed out from your orgasm as if to commit it to memory. You lolled your head to the side lazily, thoroughly fucked out. He snickered, taking pride in how tired he had made you.

"C'mon princess, let's go inside and get you cleaned up." He patted your thigh encouragingly. You sighed, not wanting to get up but knowing he was right.

"Yeah, just gimme a second to make sure I can feel my legs." Your words were mumbled but not inaudible. You heard him chuckle.

"Ol' Ashley fuck you that good?"

You rolled your eyes, deciding that was the extent of a response he would get from you, knowing his ego didn't need further stoking. You took him in as he stood a few feet away from you. You stretched out on the car hood before slowly sitting up, taking a moment to get your bearings before sliding off the Delta. You began to pick your discarded clothes off from the ground, grumbling as you noticed they had become covered in dirt and mud, likely as a result from the earlier hose fight. As you bent down to recover your bra, you heard a loud 'slap' accompanied by a sharp sting to your ass. You snapped up, immediately glaring at Ash who just grinned.

"Don't think just because I let you fuck me that I won't kick your ass, Williams." You sneered, pointing a finger at him. He raised his hands in mock surrender, allowing you to pick up the remaining scattered garments, tilting his head and appreciating the growing red mark on your skin.

Your head again perked up as you heard the familiar roaring of a motorcycle approaching in the distance. You quickly walked over to where your shorts had landed before hurriedly trying to make your way back to the trailerr to shield yourself from the incoming eyes of Kelly and Pablo. The fact that they had been out slipping from your mind until now.

Before you could make it to the small set of stairs, Ash grabbed you by your waist, pulling you to his chest.

"Why in such a rush, sweet thing?" He chuckled as you squirmed against his grip.

"Let go!" You hissed, urgently trying to push away from his lumber arms as Pablo's bike pulled into the driveway.

"Oh, c'mon, you'll let me fuck you out here but the thought of those two seeing a little skin from you sends you running?" He teased.

"Ash, I'm not kidding." Your voice was firm, the thought of Kelly and Pablo seeing you like this making your stomach churn. He could sense the urgency in your voice and reluctantly releasing you from his grip, but still appreciating the view of your naked, reddened ass as you streaked into the trailer, slamming the storm door shut behind you.

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