#me when i wear my denim overalls

[gallusrostromegalus]

I was raised agnostic and tend to remain ambiguous on theological matters.

-but my house has a porch on the second story that affords me a terrific view of my neighborhood and the Colorado Front Range and I was partaking of some peace before the 4th Of July Finger-Loss Festivities begin, and I have had a

~*Spiritual Experience*~

I just watched my neighbor try to unload an actual wooden pallet that had to have been forklifted into the back of his insecurity pickup worth of fireworks.

Except that he does not have a forklift in his garage.

He does have so much sports memorabilia and cardboard boxes of unsold MLM Merchandise and patriotically themed camping gear and posters of women in bikinis and flags of suspect political organizations in his garage that there is only BARELY enough space for the fireworks and certainly none for his truck.

So he had to unload the individual boxes of recreational explosives from the back of his truck and stack them in the minimal space he had cleared by hand. This is a tedious and time-consuming process as this neighbor has purchased a wide variety of recreational and locally illegal explosives instead of many of just a few types, so the individual boxes are rather small.

He begins, and this is crucial to what happens next, by cutting apart the industrial-grade saran wrap his explosives dealer had so carefully wrapped his merchandise in, and discarded it unsecured on his lawn.

Where Outdoor Conditions sometimes happen.

His process for unloading the fireworks is to 1. Climb up through the gate into the bed of his pickup truck (a feat made unusually difficult due to the slope of his driveway, and this man's fascinating decision to wear the world's Siffest and least Flexible Denim Overalls. 2. Once in the pickup bed, he selects ONE (1) box from the pile He is apparently from a niche religious institution that doesn't believe in stacking things. 3. Carries it awkwardly around the palette that barely fits in the truck bed 4. His wife yells "Be careful!" when he nearly falls out of the pickup. 5. He Yells "SHADDUP!" back at her. 6. The Large German Shepherd barks from inside the house. 7. He yells "SHADDUP!" back at her too. 8. He sets the (1) box down on the gate 9. Slowly and awkwardly climbs out of the pickup bed 10. picks the box back up, and carries it into the garage.

Question: Aren't you going to help this poor man? Answer: Absolutely Not.

There's four military veterans, MANY dogs, and several people with dementia in this neighborhood, all of whom are terrified by this chicanery every year and many neighbors have repeatedly asked him to maybe do the fireworks somewhere else. (This is the Eighth Year Running he's held a major demolition event in his driveway, and for those of you who can do math, you may be able to guess the precipitating incident to this little ritual) Additionally, I live in Colorado, a state marginally less prone to spontaneous and catastrophic conflagrations than a rotting grain silo, but only marginally. Our recreational explosives laws are written accordingly.

I am in fact calling the Non Emergency line to report Fireworks violations, and reading off the brand labels to someone named Dorothy, who is gleefully totaling up a SPECTACULAR fine for my oblivious neighbor.

However, while I'm on the phone with Dorothy, I notice the wind begin to pick up. and by "Notice" I mean "The Industrial Saran Wrap he left on his Lawn earlier is suddenly swept up about 100 feet into the air by an updraft intense enough to make my ears pop" And by "Pick Up" I mean "I look up to see the sky has turned a fun and exciting shade of glass green, and the bottoms of the clouds are bumpy and rounded, and the overall effect is not unlike looking up through the bottom of the cup at God's Matcha Boba Tea."

For those of you who do not live in places with Inclement Weather, these conditions mean "You have about 30 seconds before a Major Meteorological Event Occurs."

I move under the eaves. "Hang on Dorothy." I say, nose filling with Petrichor. "The show is about to be cancelled." "Oh, that doesn't matter!" Dorothy cheerfully informs me. "It's illegal for him just to possess those, no matter if he actually gets to set them off or not." "Terrific, because he's gotten maybe five boxes out of a hundred inside."

Sometimes, the weather gods are Merciful and give you a verbal warning, typically in the kind of thunderclap that makes your ears ring.

The Gods were not merciful today.

It's not often that I am in the time, place, correct angle or in a properly observational frame of mind to see this, But I got to see it today. Huh. I thought. I've never seen a cloud just DIVE for the ground before. Oh. I realized as it got closer. That's RAIN.

Sometimes, a thunderstorm will form in such a way that the rain that would normally be distributed over an area of say, five to tent square miles, is instead concentrated into an area of say, my neighborhood exactly.

So today, I was granted the rare privilege of being able to actually see the literal wall of water descend from On High and DIRECTLY onto my porch, my street, and my neighbor's truck, and his pile of unwrapped fireworks.

The sheer impact force of the downpour immediately scatters the teetering pile of fireworks boxes in the back of the truck, like the wrath of God striking down the tower of Babel. Boxes tumble, then are washed out of the bed of the truck by the deluge. Smaller Boxes are carried down the road in a little line by the stream forming in the gutter, like little impotent explosive ducklings.

My neighbor was definitely yelling something, but I could not hear what over the DEAFENING noise several million gallons of water makes upon high-speed contact with the earth's surface, but there was a lot of arm-waving and faces turning red as he went looking for the saran wrap that had probably blown to Nebraska by now, while his wife started disassembling the complex three-dimensional puzzle of interlocking material goods in search of a tarp. They do not have a tarp. They have one of those wretched Thin Blue Line flags though, and my neighbor jogs out in a futile effort to cover what's left in the truck.

Which is when the hail begins.

"HELLO?" Yelled Dorothy. "HI!" I shouted. "WE'RE HAVING SOME WEATHER!" "OH GOOD!" she shouts back. "WE NEED THE MOISTURE!"

I watch for a minute longer, but the loss was immediate and catastrophic- the hail is the size of marbles and dense and cares not for your pitiful cardboard and cellophane, ripping the boxes asunder and punching holes in the few things covered in plastic. The colors on the Thin Blue Line Flag are seeping all over the remains of that it was supposed to protect in a particularly apt visual metaphor. Not even the few boxes that made it into the garage are spared, as the German Shepherd escapes from indoors, and in an attempt to assist her humans, jumps directly into the small stack of not-yet-ruined boxes, scattering them into the driveway and deluge. She even picks one up so her humans will chase her around the yard, before dropping it in the gutter to be swept away.

So. I was raised Agnostic -but even I can recognize when God slaps someone upside the head and shouts "NO!" at them.

---

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#Family Lore #Long Post #Local Man Experiences Local Weather

[freelancearsonist]

Parts and Labor

➔ Eddie Munson x fem!Reader - 5k

➔ Eddie’s van is practically falling apart, but he doesn’t have the heart to replace it. Luckily for him, you’re willing to put in the effort to fix it—as long as he helps.

➔ Rated MA for unprotected p in v sex (don’t do this irl pls), oral (f receiving), heavy petting, creampie, fingering, cumplay, Eddie has scars and lies about where he got them, reader has female anatomy and uses fem pronouns, reader is a mechanic [please let me know if i missed anything at all :)]

“SHIT, FUCK!”

Eddie slams down the hood of his van, kicks the front tire as hard as he can, then winces–both at the sudden pain in his foot and at the overreaction.

“Come on baby, please,” he pleads futilely to the unresponsive engine. “I’ll give you anything, just start.”

The engine, apparently, won’t be seduced.

Eddie digs through the pocket of his low-slung jeans, finds a dime somewhere in the pile of gum wrappers and old receipts, and runs to stick the coin into the nearest payphone booth.

The garage answers on the last ring, and Eddie doesn’t even have to identify himself. They’re almost as familiar with his junker van as he is himself. They’ve wrung more money out of him for repairs than the damned thing is worth, and Eddie knows it. He knows the vehicle is on its deathbed–repeatedly resuscitated at this point–and that he should just replace it. But he can’t. Beyond fear of hurting its feelings, he’s become attached to it. He’s made memories in that stupid van. To him, replacing his ride would be like wading a huge portion of his life up and throwing it in the trash. He just won’t do it.

The garage is merciful enough to give him a ride there along with towing his poor, lifeless van. He’s not eager to spend a day in the waiting room sipping lukewarm black coffee, but he needs to be there for her. His lady is dying–waiting for news from her doctors is the least he can do.

He forgets all about his lady when you walk through the door.

You’re the Porche 944 of women. He’s never seen anything or anyone quite as breathtaking as you–with the small grease smudge on your cheek, your hair pulled back so sloppily that half of it is already fallen down, and your denim overalls unclipped on one side to show off the faded Iron Maiden t-shirt you wear underneath. You’re wiping your hands on a grease rag as you approach him and Eddie just stands in dumbfounded silence. Who are you and where have you been his entire life?

“Munson,” you greet with a slight smile. 

He almost chokes. You know his name? He knows he’s never seen you before in his life–you’re the kind of girl he could never forget. Especially with how much time he’s had to spend here.

“Having trouble getting her to start?” you continue without missing a beat. Eddie doesn’t miss the way you refer to his van, and it makes him impossibly more hooked. “Seems to be a bad ignition coil. Easy enough to fix, except your crankshaft is rusted to shit and I’m honestly surprised the whole engine hasn’t fallen apart when you hit a bump or something. Seriously, it’s dangerous to drive at this point.”

Eddie hears you, but he doesn’t comprehend a single word you’re saying. He’s hyper-fixated on the way your lips form around your words, on how you’re speaking mechanics and you actually understand what you’re saying. He’s never met anyone like you.

“But you can fix her, right?”

You smile, and he feels his heart skip a beat. “Honestly? My professional advice is to just sell it for scrap and buy a new car.”

It’s like a smack to the face. He has to blink the shock out of his eyes while you stand there so simply, like you didn’t just tell him to kill his darling.

”What’s your unprofessional advice?”

You bite your lip, busy your hands with a grease cloth. “I could fix it. But it’ll take some time, and it’ll be expensive as hell. It would honestly be cheaper to buy new.”

”I’ll pay for the fix,” he says firmly before he can consider what he’s really agreeing to. “I can’t just replace her.”

Your smile is softer when you look back up at him. “I really admire that.”

Those words shouldn’t have as much of an effect on him as they do.

”I can do the job, but not here. There’s no way my boss would let me take up a lift for as long as I need to actually do a good job, and I don’t believe in doing mediocre work. But I’ve got enough equipment at my place if you trust me?”

You’re not only saving his lady, you’re promising not to screw him like so many people have before. He’s thinking about proposing, but he keeps his cool long enough to say, “yeah. Yeah, I trust you.”

”How much do you know about cars?”

He notices a strand of hair that’s fallen down into your face, and it takes all his restraint to keep himself from pushing it behind your ear for you.

”I know enough,” he says with a modest shrug.

Your eyes shine with something that he can’t identify as you gaze up at him. “Well, if you wanna help me, I’ll only charge you for parts.”

Eddie doesn’t even need to consider. A chance to spend more time with you, and a discount on repairs? “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great.”

The first night he comes over, it’s the sticky hot of a midsummer Indiana evening. He’s in low-slung faded jeans and a baggy white tank top that shows more of his chest than should be legal. There’s so much lightly tanned skin on display that you can’t decide where to focus—much less consider the engine you’re supposed to be working on. You can’t help asking about each little spot of ink you see on his skin, curious to learn even the smallest nuisances of his personality.

He’s the most interesting person you’ve met in this podunk town since your move to Hawkins from Indianapolis. He’s goofy and aloof, charming yet awkward. He’s so gentle and sweet you can practically smell the saccharine of his words as he speaks. He’s an animated speaker—so passionate about everything he does that he puts his whole body into it. There’s a refreshing energy to him that recharges your social battery as he goes, rather than draining it like everyone else does.

By the second night of working on Eddie’s van with him, you’re close enough to call him a friend. You know what seems like every small detail about him—his favorite color, the story behind the small scar on his left knee.

By the third night, you’re fighting every instinct in your brain to keep from throwing him inside said van and having your way with him.

Especially when you deliver to him a cold glass of iced tea and he drinks it in the sluttiest possible way he can—big gulps that send the condensation on the outside of the glass spilling down his chin to leave little paths of wetness down his neck and chest. It’s like full-on torture.

On the fourth night, you’ve had the engine block completely disassembled and ready for the new crankshaft for a couple days. It’s hard for Eddie to see his baby gutted and torn apart this way, but he knows you’ve got the most capable hands of any mechanic he’s ever known. There’s a delicacy and attention to detail in your craft that he’s never seen before, and he’s enraptured with watching you work. He’s even more enraptured by the sticky glistening of your skin in the red-orange light of sunset every night.

There’s really no reason for him to keep meeting you every single evening—all you’re doing at this point is busywork cleaning various parts because the real work can’t be done until the new parts arrive. Both of you know it, too—but neither of you will admit it. You’ve both come to look forward to these few hours together, comfortable even though you’re both sweaty, sticky, and greasy. Suspending them at this point would be a crime.

There’s just the faintest peek of reddish light left over the horizon when the conversation lulls, but Eddie’s not ready to go quite yet. “You hear Megadeth’s touring in Indy this fall?”

”No shit?”

”No shit. Tickets are probably going fast.”

”We should get some,” you say with a cautious glance over at him. This is it—this is as grand of an invitation as you can work up the courage to make. If he can’t take the bait here, you’ll be forever casting lingering glances and praying he’ll make a more substantial move than just eyeing you up and down like you’re the finest, purest water in a parched desert.

Eddie’s heart rate skyrockets even as he’s willing himself not to read too far into your words. ”Yeah? You’d… wanna go with me?”

”Might be nice. To hang out and do something other than pretend to work on your car.”

”All you had to do was ask, sweetheart,” he says with a look that’s far too smug for his own good on his face. 

Even though it’s a little ridiculous, his cockiness flusters you. ”Wasn’t sure you’d want to.”

”How could I not? I’ve got the girl of my dreams five feet away from me, I’d be crazy to not want to spend every second I can get with her.”

”Oh, is there someone else here?” You try to giggle and make it sound like a lighthearted joke, but it comes out far more flustered than you mean for it to.

”No. Just you.” It’s only three words, yet you’ve never heard anything more fraught with tension in your life. It’s in his dark eyes, in the set of his jaw, in the way his hands clench into fists at his side to keep from reaching for you.

All your eyes can manage to do is trace up the prominent veins in his forearms from his white-knuckled fists. If you meet his eyes, you know your resolve will disappear faster than a delicate snowflake on warm skin.

But he takes a step closer to you, and it’s too late before you can even consider stopping yourself.

His dark eyes are swirling with lust. There’s no mistaking it, no other label for it. It looks animalistic, almost dangerous. He looks like he wants to devour you whole, and you want nothing more than to find out if he will.

”You, umm… need a refill?” You gesture with your eyes to the now empty glass in his hand, then nod toward the house. It’s all the invitation he needs.

The second the door clicks shut behind you, Eddie’s hands are on you. They start on your waist, effectively pinning you against the closed door and using you as an anchor to press himself as close to you as he can.

It’s eager and rushed, even a little sloppy. He kisses wet, he kisses deep. It’s like he’s trying to suck the air straight from your lungs, and you let him. Nothing has ever felt so good before.

“Christ,” he mumbles as his hot lips work their way down your neck. “Been wanting to do this for days.”

There’s a slight tremble in your hands as your fingers work their way into his curls, already nearly overwhelmed with the sensation of his mouth on your overheated skin. “Why didn’t you?”

”Didn’t wanna scare you off,” he confesses. It’s so endearing it pulls a moan from your lips.

“There’s not a lot you could do to scare me off, Eddie.” You mean it; you try to prove it by tugging him closer and slotting him between your legs. You can feel his pent up desire, hard and thick, as it presses against your core through his jeans. The feeling alone makes you ache with desire. It’s like a wave sweeps through you, cascading from head to toe and making everything in its wake prickle with unbearable want. You are molten flame, and he is the only thing that can douse your heat.

No one’s ever had such an astronomical effect on you from doing so little.

Eddie isn’t faring much better. He walks in a fog, blinded by clouding desire—especially so when your leg hitches up and around his hip to tug him harder against you. It’s like his cruise control is set, speed regulating with every incline or downward tilt—adjusting every little movement and touch to draw more breathless moans and whimpers from your parted lips.

A slight tug to his hair snaps him back into his own body, drawing a sudden clarity on the situation. He’s no longer an outsider looking in, as if an astral projection watching and criticizing his every move. Eddie is fully present and hyper-focused on one thing: making sure no other person can ever properly satisfy you again.

”You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs over and over into your skin as he traces kisses over your exposed neck and shoulders. His fingers hook into the strap of your tank top and slide it out of place, making way for a series of open-mouthed kisses as he ensures that not an inch of your skin is neglected.

You keen at his praise and reward him with a gentle tug to his messy curls. “So are you.”

He prickles with affection at your compliment, his cheeks warming in a way that feels completely foreign to him. No one’s ever called him beautiful before—he’s really never thought it could even be applicable to him—but he feels like he could get used to it.

He asks so nicely to take your top off and you give him permission without hesitation. You can see the flash of want in his eyes as he takes in your mostly naked torso, gaze skirting around the boundary of your bra as if he’s too shy to ask again for permission to remove a garment.

You decide to put on a little show as you give him what he wants; you unhook your bra and slide the straps down your arms so achingly slowly he thinks he might combust. And then finally, gloriously, you let the fabric fall to the floor and Eddie gets his first look at your bare chest.

He gapes, open-mouthed, for longer than is frankly comfortable—to the point you’re almost about to cover yourself up again.

And then he says, “Permission to do something highly inappropriate and maybe even a little degrading?”

”Uhh… sure?”

In a flash he’s buried face first in your sternum, hands coming to cup your breasts and dramatically smother himself in your cleavage. He lets out a pleasured groan as you giggle, deft fingers lightly tugging and pinching the sensitive peaks of your nipples. He prickles with pride at the breathy gasp you emit when his mouth starts working—he turns his head to suck one hard mound between his lips and keeps up the pressure with his fingers on the other.

”Sh-shit…” you sigh and slump into his attention, arms hanging like limp ribbons by your sides. “Eddie…”

”Love the way you say my name,” he practically purrs. “So fucking pretty.”

He switches sides now, firmly dragging the flat of his tongue over your nipple before sealing his lips around it and sucking. The pure pressure of it makes you cry out, fingers tugging harshly at his curls.

”Jesus, that feels amazing,” you whine. It’s so good, but it’s not nearly enough at the same time. And it’s like he can sense it—like he’s got some kind of a psychic connection with your body. He adapts immediately to what you need, dropping to his knees to unbutton your jean shorts and deftly slip them down and off your legs. He smooths his palms against your bare thighs and lets you feel the cold kiss of his metal rings against the burning flesh there, all the while looking up at you with dark eyes that you can’t quite identify. There’s lust, sure, but something else in those chocolate orbs. Something akin to adoration—like he’s on his knees preparing to worship you.

”Can I?” Those long, thick fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear and you’re nodding before he’s even finished asking.

You wish you could put the sound he lets out once he finally has you bare on vinyl to repeat over and over again. It’s somewhere between a growl and a whimper, completely heady with desire and want; need, even. The fact that he needs you like this is so overwhelming and flattering that you can barely process it. You don’t have time to, because in a moment his lips are wrapping themselves around your clit and sucking. He goes straight past gentle and into pure pressure just like he did with your nipples; as above, so below. And it’s bliss—thigh-quaking, breath-hitching, earth-shattering bliss.

All you can manage to do is scrabble for purchase against the wall his hands have you pinned to. You have to sound absolutely pathetic, but you can’t be bothered to care because you’re precariously close to coming and it’s only been a matter of minutes.

He moans, like he’s tasting the finest, most expensive and decadent cuisine he’s ever had. The sound vibrates against your pussy and travels up your spine all the way to your brain—it nests there and makes it’s home, drives you into a fuzzy state of ecstasy. And all the while that luxurious tongue is hard at work, alternating between lapping thirstily at your entrance and fluttering against your clit in a way that causes every muscle in your abdomen to contract.

Nothing should be able to feel this good—it’s so desperately close to overwhelming. Simultaneously, you would rather die than lose this feeling is it crescendos to a fever pitch.

”Let go,” he murmurs against you, and you know he’s not talking about your grip on his hair. “It’s okay. I gotcha, let go f’me.”

You’ve never fancied yourself to be the obedient type per se, but apparently your body is feeling particularly traitorous today. It takes all of three more seconds before you’re doing exactly what he said—legs trembling with the burden of your weight as you crash and burn on his tongue. You whine and beg and plead, all of it meaningless babble as he works you over and through your pleasure with that wonderful, amazing, perfect mouth of his.

You don’t even process you’re collapsing, but thankfully Eddie does and catches you with ease. There’s a cocky chuckle in his throat as he lays you down on the floor, and you would smack him for it if he hadn’t earned it. Instead, you grab him by the collar of his shirt a little rougher than mean to and drag him to your mouth, relishing in the high-pitched whine he admits at your light manhandling.

You moan at the taste of yourself on his lips, and Eddie can’t help grinding himself hard against your thigh in an attempt to relieve the pressure of his untouched arousal. This kiss is nasty—wet, gnashing, desperate. There’s no control to it on either end.

”That good, huh?” He mutters into your mouth. His voice is barely more than a whisper—you can’t expect much more when you’re kissing him the way you are, grinding your thigh against his aching cock all the while. And even still, despite his obvious desperation, he manages to be cocky about how hard he made you come.

If you weren’t head over heels for this man before, you certainly are now.

You start tugging at his belt and he chuckles, only growing more sure of himself by the second.

”Wait, baby, lemme take you to bed,” he huffs over the feeling of your hand finally sliding into his jeans where he needs you most.

It makes you gasp when you finally have him in the palm of your hand. As big as he felt through his jeans, nothing could’ve prepared you for this. He’s heavy, achingly thick, and you can feel the way he positively throbs in your grip.

And just as you’re about to agree and show him to your bedroom, you shake your head firmly; because as uncomfortable as this floor is going to feel and as much as your back is going to hate you for it later, you need him now. There’s no time for relocating; if he doesn’t give it to you right now, here in the middle of your living room floor, you think you might perish.

”Right here?” He hums as if he’s not affected at all while he slots himself between your legs. “On the floor? Can’t even wait thirty seconds to let me have you the right way? Dirty girl.”

It’s such a shift in dynamic; not an unwelcome one at all, certainly. But he’s been so shy and timid up until this point—always following your lead, blushing when his hand brushes against yours. You wonder if he’s like this with everyone—if he feels some pressure to perform an act or role, to hide his true personality. 

The thought makes your chest ache a little bit, but you don’t have time to dwell on it because he’s breaking you in half. He’s so slow about it, too; barely pressing his tip into you, giving you time to adjust to every millimeter he gives you. Even still it punches the breath out of your lungs and makes your eyelids flutter at the intrusion.

”Shit.” It’s not spoken so much as whined, and suddenly you’re starkly aware of just how much you’re affecting him. You bite your lip to steady yourself so you can look up at him, and the sight alone is almost enough to unravel you. Unruly curls spill down over his shoulder and dangle in the air over you. His mouth hangs open—fast, shallow breaths make his bottom lip quiver. His pupils are so blown with desire you can barely see the warm chocolatey color of his irises.

You’re suddenly aware that in your desperation, you forgot a very important step. He’s still fully clothed—your legs rub against his t-shirt as his hands hook under your knees to spread you wider for him. You almost feel bad about it; in your haze of arousal his attention to your body has brought on, you’ve forgotten to be attentive to his. It pulls a whine from your lips as your hands unconsciously come to tug at the fabric.

He chuckles but acquiesces—not before you see a flicker of hesitation pass over his face.

It takes a moment to process what you’re looking at as he tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side… and then your jaw drops. ”Shit, Eddie!”

He’s quick to quiet your exclamation with a heated kiss, unintentionally shoving himself that little bit deeper into your cunt. It distracts you, but only for a moment. Then you’re pushing yourself up onto your elbows, trying to wrap your mind around the myriad of deep, whitish-pink scars that litter his torso.

“Eddie, what—“

“Car accident,” he lies before he can think better of it. It’s a story he’s told so many times that he’s almost starting to believe it himself. “Couple years back.”

“Jesus,” you whisper as your fingers trace over the poorly healed lines.

“I know. They’re not pretty.”

That one sentence tells you everything you need to know. “It’s not that,” he assure him. “Just… a miracle you survived something that bad.”

“Yeah,” he hums. “I got lucky.”

He’s deflating a little bit, and the last thing you want him to do is lose that confidence he’s been exuding. You wrap your arms around your neck and pulls him flush against you, feeling every warm inch of his torso against yours as your tongue tangles with his.

“You’re beautiful,” you tell him again. And you mean it.

He draws a gasp from your lips when he presses even closer, every inch of his body covering yours and his length shoved all the way into your needy cunt. It’s almost too much for him—the combination of your tight, wet heat around him; the adoration in your eyes as you look up at him like he’s some kind of god; your hands pulling him closer like you might evaporate if you can’t feel every inch of his body at all times. It’s a heady feeling he’s never experienced before, being wanted this badly. It nearly unravels him—especially when you start bucking your hips up to him in search of the friction you so desperately need.

He sees your need, and it pulls him back into his dutiful role. “I’ve got you, baby.”

He starts with deep, slow thrusts that nearly make you drool—you feel the drag of every single inch against your walls, every vein and ridge and contour. It’s like you’re memorizing the shape of him from the inside out.

One ringed hand slides down your hip and along the length of your thigh to hook beneath your knee, hitching your leg up as high as he comfortably can to spread you wide open for the taking.

You get barely a moment's notice as he draws himself almost all the way out. And then he slams himself back into place—deep, hard, unrelenting. He revels in the sound it draws from you, something between a cry and a plea for more; he silently vows to himself that those little pleasures sounds are going to be all you’re capable of making by the time he’s done with you.

It’s borderline violent, the way he fucks you. His thrusts are relentless and expert in a way you didn’t expect him to be. His lips hardly leave your skin, muffling his moans into hickies and bruises on your neck and chest. His hands grip hard to your body, marks blossoming beneath his fingertips.

You’ve never fallen apart so easily.

“That’s it,” he purrs into your ear as he feels your walls fluttering around him. “Don’t hold back, lemme have it. Please, baby.”

And really, it would be rude to deny him after he’s asked so nicely.

Your orgasm comes like shattered glass. The sound is the first thing you process—your moans drowning out his steady grunts. And then it’s sharp. It drives its shards into your and makes you flinch away from the sensation, so pleasurable it’s almost painful.

You’ve never come just from being fucked before. Sweet, wonderful Eddie carries on working towards his own release like he doesn’t deserve a goddamned award.

“Can I…”

But you’re already nodding, wrapping your legs around his waist and coaxing him deeper—urging him to make a home in the deepest part of you.

He’s not a man who needs to be told twice. He rocks his hips as deep as he can and then presses even closer, the head of him bruising your cervix as he falls apart. And maybe it shouldn’t feel as good as it does, the sensation of him painting your walls with rope after rope or warm, sticky release; but you’re not in the mind to psychoanalyze yourself right now. Instead you do your best to help him through it, lightly ghosting the tips of your fingers in soothing patterns on his back as he pants and shudders.

“Holy…”

“Yeah,” you giggle.

It takes him a few minutes to summon the courage he needs to pull his softening length from your warmth, and he bites down on his lip nearly hard enough to draw blood when he sees the absolute mess that slides down the curve of your ass.

”Jesus H. Christ,” he murmurs. His fingers come to swipe up some of the combined cum before he can stop himself, pushing it back into where he’d spilled it to begin with and relishing in the moan you afford him at the feeling of his thick fingers pressing into your over-sensitive entrance.

He’s so thoroughly enraptured with the sight before him. Your cunt squeezing so tightly around his fingers, cum dripping, desperate to reject due to the overstimulation. And yet you take it without flinching, chest heaving, head falling back against the hardwood floor.

He swipes his thumb over your clit so lightly and yet it still makes you squeeze like a vice around him, and so he does it again. He curls his fingers in search of that spot that made you fall apart so prettily on his cock, and once he finds it he doesn’t relent. That, combined with the light pressure on your clit, is more than enough.

Your thighs tremble, caught indecisively between spreading further open for him and clamping shut on his cum-slicked hand. He watches in awe as your lips part in a silent scream, ass arching up off the floor; and then, as you come down, you have to push him away because it’s finally too much.

”Fuck,” you whimper—he coos so reassuringly as he leans down to gently kiss your lips, errant curls brushing and tickling against your cheeks.

”I know, baby,” he whispers. “God, you’re incredible. Did so good f’me.”

You have to stay still for a moment—let his sweet, gentle kisses bring you back down from the clouds. And then you’re aware of the ache in your back and the absolute puddle forming under your ass, and you push yourself up with a weak groan.

”M’sorry,” he winces in sympathy. “Bed next time, I promise.”

And really, the promise of there being a next time shouldn’t make your heart skip a beat the way it does.

You’re worried things’ll be awkward now, but that’s the furthest thing from the truth. Working with him now is so much more effortless. The tension isn’t as palpable—it’s a fluid thing that you move through confidently now that your feelings and his are known. He isn’t afraid to watch you anymore, awe and adoration in his eyes as you show him how to reassemble the engine block. He observes your skilled fingers at work, and he’s not afraid to tell you how fucking sexy it is to him. He’s not afraid to rest a hand on the small of your back as he stands beside you, even occasionally getting brave enough to let it slip down and cup your ass. He’s not afraid to be his goofy, adorable, manic self—it’s the best metamorphosis you’ve ever seen.

You finish working on his van finally, and he almost tears up at how well she runs now—although he definitely doesn’t let you see that.

And as worried as you were that finishing this job would feel like the end of whatever this is with Eddie, it doesn’t. You feel secure, somehow, that he’ll keep coming back—for more than just parts and labor.

THE END

➔ A/N: thank you as always to @shakespeareanwannabe for putting up with my incessant questions and beta requests 🥹 ily lots

➔ Want to see more from me in the future? Follow @freelancearsonist-updates and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post new fics!

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#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson one shot #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut #stranger things one shot #cece writes

[dynsdiary]

━━ my pov of ellie

a/n : hii this would be the way i see ellie or what i think she would be (obv hcs i think). so if you don't agree with me it is totally okay! just dont give hate comments and stuff like that.

cr : @idontgetanysleep & pinterest for all the pics

up next ⟶ part ii

DAILY CLICK

DONT BUY TLOU

WAYS TO HELP PALESTINE

what i think she would wear

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ i feel like she would own a lot of flannels, sweaters and baggy shirt.

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ also, she would definitely like wearing pants that don't fit her perfectly so she can show off her boxer or boyshort thingy (and she makes them look good too!) ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ I JUST KNOW SHE HAS THE KEY HOLDER THING CAUSE SHE DOESN'T CARRY ANY BAG OR PURSE WITH HER (she only uses them if needed lol). ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ sometimes, she would love to just wear her hoodie/sweater instead of making an effort to dress up. i mean she would look good either way ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ she actually has lots types of shoes but will always wear converse bc "it's comfy" (her words). ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ i also like to think that she would love / enjoy overall especially if it's short and wear it in summer cause SUMMER IS HOT!!! ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ oh pretty sure she own caps and denim jackets in different colors ⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ damn leather jacket (esp black one) would look so good on her

what dates you guys are going

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ in my head, ellie doesn't like or drink coffee but you two would go for cafe hunting or food hunting together, depending on what mood you two feel that day!

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ellie is definitely a soda or juice kinda girl

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ baking or cooking together

sometimes, she's begging you to bake/cook with her dinosaur-themed food saying it won't fuck up but well… it does taste good but the presentation looks off… you guys still eat it though.

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ ughh, listening to music together shared WITH ONE EARPHONE !!!!!!!!!!!

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ okay, imagine running away from work or school for a moment and you two decided to go to the lake or beach just to wind down and have quality time together and catch up with each other's week.

also, imagine looking for rocks that look like both you and ellie's eyes colors !!!!!!! SO CUTE AND YOU DID THE TIKTOK TREND and it blew up !!!!

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ thrifting shopping, both of you help each other look for gems.

"how does this look on me?" "like i want to go down on you" "ellie!" you exclaimed clearly flustered while hitting her arm. "kidding! you should get it, baby, it looks great on you" ellie kissed your cheek.

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ picnic and stargazing. ellie, would tell you any facts that she knows to you while showing you what's up in the sky.

"oh oh! look at that one! did you know that-" and she continued telling you her facts and you would listen carefully. but there are times that you just want to look at her like the pretty view she is. "wow, that's so cool els! tell me more" you responded to her and she will gladly tell you more about it!

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ art dates! i do see ellie as an artsy girl and let me tell you she knows what she's doing with her hands and is so talented too.

sometimes you like to call her a tease just because of how her hands are doing wonders for you LOL definitely, do the 10-minute challenge thingy, making a friendship bracelet just because and of course you two had to do the hand trend things to put it at your home or offices.

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ museum date or aquarium date.

ellie could go on and on and on about dinosaurs or planets even sharks! girly has so many interests that she just has so many fun facts to tell you about! "woah, baby look how big this thing is!" ellie excitedly said. "that's what she said" you joke and of course ellie snickers at your bad jokes but deep down she does find it funny.

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ late-night walks or drives are for sure your two favourite things to do besides cuddling.

late night walks when the two of you couldn't fall asleep and ending up at the park playing swings and just talking about the randomest thing ever and would probably go to the convenience store to buy strawberry and blueberry slushies. the two of you end up having purple tongues

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ mannnn, i know ellie loves hiking (that doesn't take a long time to reach up the hill). i feel like she would be a sporty girl (kinda?), i mean i know she would go to the gym and all that.

ellie is a curious girl and just loves to explore new things and be adventurous and she likes it when you tag along with her. you, ellie and her cameras !! her taking pictures of her pretty girl (you!!)

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ weeds and drinks combo and both of you laughing like an idiots while the soft wind brushes your skin

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ to be fair, whatever the two of you are doing together called dates! she just loves being around you and so do you!!

REMINDER !!

that neil is a zionist and therefore dont buy his games, doesnt matter remastered or not !!!

before you leave, have you DONATE TO PALESTINE today? ITS FREE TOO !!

#written by ellslvr ❦ #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams x female reader #ellie x reader #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams imagine #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x you

[miinatozakiii]

misty

kindergarden teacher!sana x fem!reader. (p1. 1)

summary: you take your niece to her first day of school and- shoot, you might have a crush on your nieces' teacher.

wc: 2k

warnings: none, pure fluff

pt2 pt3 pt4

a/n: hiii this is my first post, feel free to leave feedback or just ask, comment, or anything like that, hope u enjoy!!

also, credits to @soliarus for inspiring and encouraging me to post my take on this! I really liked their take on this prompt/idea, so please check it out!!! it's so cute :'-]

-

you and your niece Hana, approach the classroom, and you spot parents already bidding their goodbyes and waving to their children from the cheery, chat-filled classroom. 

Hana reaches for your hand, holding your large hand with her small one. you look down at your niece, and she wears a white shirt, denim overalls, and a beige backpack, you had dressed her up this morning. The young girl stands outside the door with you and looks into the classroom from the door nervously.

“y/n, auntie…” She begins, “What if no one wants to be my friend?” 

There’s a look of surprise on your face after hearing what she said. She looks down at her beige, velcro sneakers. You squat down to match the little girl’s level,

“Hana… Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know… I don’t want to be the only one alone.” She says, and her frown deepens,

“Hana, sweetheart,” you start, holding both her hands in between your palms, “Trust me, at least one person will talk to you. Even if it isn’t today, someone amazing like you will make a friend, I mean, who wouldn’t want to be your friend? I made a lot of friends when I was your age,” 

You pause and put your hands on her shoulders, making eye contact, and your tone softens,

“You and I, we’re alike, . your dad and grandma think so too.” you begin, “And, be glad. Your dad isn’t as cool as me, trust me. Be glad you got your auntie’s genes, and because you have my genes, you’ll be the coolest in the room.”

“You sure?” Hana questions,

“Of course I am.” You assure her. You stand up and encourage her, “Now, come on, let’s go inside, your dad said your teacher was nice!” you say, smiling at the little girl and standing up again, “You lead me, I might get lost and I’m a bit scared myself, this isn’t my classroom after all.”

Hana’s worried expression is replaced by a growing smile after hearing your last remark,  “You’re so silly y/n, you’re old and scared? I thought you said you were the coolest!” Hana giggles, teasing you slightly.

“Hey! I am the coolest! and I'm not old! you should see your dad!”

The little girl laughs and gains a sudden boost of confidence from the lighthearted teasing, holding, no, grabbing your hand and practically pulling you into the classroom with her as if you were Alice traveling into some wonderland.

You two enter the classroom, and the first thing you notice is the smell. The vanilla scent isn't overwhelming, and you can even smell the faint notes of peaches and pears. The scent matches the slightly chaotic classroom and its well-thought-out arrangement and reminds you of the cafe you work at in a way.

There are kids in seats that are coloring, some looking or running around the room, and some with their parents taking pictures. Hana drags you to the colorful cubbies where she would put her finished work and lunchbox in. She shows you the sticker she put on the cubby with her dad from when they visited for the open house, and you smile at the sight. It’s a shark sticker, Hana and her dad love sharks.

“Hana, love, stand next to the cubby, I want to show your dad.” You tell her, pointing to the area where you want her to pose. She scoots over to the spot and smiles widely, her gums showing a bit as she smiles so brightly; it makes you smile too. you quickly snap a picture and send it to the group chat that your brother, mom, and dad are in.

You two wander around to where the backpacks are supposed to be hung, and your gaze wanders across the room to see a beautiful woman waving to a parent. The woman smiles at the other parent and crouches down to the little boy's level, then points to an empty seat before standing up and making eye contact with you. 

The woman is beautiful. Her dark brown hair flows effortlessly down to around where her ribs are. You find that it might be weird to think this, but her nose is perfect. The way it’s angled and the slope of it, and you surprise yourself at how much you like her nose, because you’ve never really thought about a nose like this. your gaze moves down to her peach-colored lips, and they look soft, lush, and really kissable-

you stop your thoughts on her lips there, because this is a woman you’ve just seen for the first time (and she’s making you all flustered and blushy like a stupid teenager in some romcom).

You look at her outfit, it’s cute and pretty, just like her. She wears a beige cardigan and white skirt that is loose on her thin figure, and the jewelry that completes her look is a small silver necklace sitting on her fair skin, just above her exposed collarbone, a small bracelet around her hand, and small gold earrings.

Hana feels the hand that holds hers slightly loosen up, and she looks up at you to see you staring across the room, ears tinted a shade of light pink. She looks over to what, or- who you’re looking at, which makes her tug at your sleeve, and it breaks you out of your trance.

“That’s my teacher, she’s really nice,” Hana says, smiling, “Last time, she gave me an extra sticker! Dad says she reminds him of you.”

“Me?”

“He says that she has the same warmth or something, I don’t know how people can be warm in the same way, that was kind of weird. He also said the way she talks to me reminds him of you.” Hana says. Your niece walks you over to the woman and she smiles at your niece,

“Y/n, this is Ms. Minatozaki.” Hana says shyly, tugging at your hand. 

“Hello, Hana. It’s nice to see you again.” The woman says, patting her head. Her voice is sweet and higher pitch, and the way she speaks is soft and welcoming, it even makes your cheeks warm up a bit. 

Her smile almost has you losing your balance, as if you were a weak tree getting hit by a gust of strong wind. The way her lips curved up to reflect her genuine joy in seeing your niece again made you weak in the knees. The woman’s gaze lands on you, and she makes eye contact. Her head is just barely angled when she looks up at you due to her being a couple of inches shorter, and you try not to fall into another trance from seeing her alluring features up close.

You try to compose yourself as you put your hand out to greet the beautiful woman, 

“Hello Ms, I’m y/n.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/n.” She replies. Sana is stunned by the woman in front of her, and it takes her a moment to really take in your presence. Your face is almost intimidating from how sharp your features are, and she’s trying not swoon over you in the moment seeing as you’re in the middle of introducing yourselves, and you’re (what she thinks,) Hana’s mother. 

her smaller hand fits yours perfectly as she shakes it. the world seems to pause for a bit as you realize this beautiful woman is shaking your hand, and it feels like you’re in a drama of some sort as everything slows down around you. She puts another hand on the outside of yours so that both hands are welcoming you into her precious workplace. 

Hana looks between the two women, a small smile tugging at her lips. She senses the spark that forms from the small interaction, and the way her aunt’s stoic and (usually) confident facade disappears at the moment.

You notice that your hands are still connected, and you pull away to run a hand through your hair, trying to play it off (you don’t, by the way, Hana reads right through you). 

You shift your look over to the little girl and squat down again to meet her level. A loose strand of hair that didn’t get braided is pushed behind your niece's ear by your slender fingers.

“Alright,” You say, placing a thumb on the girl's cheek, rubbing it lightly, “I’ll let you be off on your own, go have fun and be good okay? I’ll be here in the afternoon.”

“Yes y/n!” Hana beams, giving you a toothy grin. You laugh out softly and give her an almost identical grin back,

Your smile widens and there's a small feeling of worry that doesn’t go unnoticed. You really do hope everything goes well for your niece, after all, she’s your only niece and you just want the best for her. 

“If your teacher says you were good today, we can go to the cafe and I can make you your favorite hot chocolate, how about that? Ms. Dahyun also said she made a special croissant for you.”

“Please! Please! I’ll be good, I promise.” Hana says, practically jumping up and down. You smile at her enthusiasm and nod, 

“Alright, be good to Ms. Minatozaki lovely, I’ll see you later.” You say before you two exchange a nice, warm hug, and after you pull away, you push away her bangs and press a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a second.

You stand back up and watch the little girl run off on her own to an empty desk with coloring pages and markers, you smile at the sight.

“Hana is very enthusiastic, she’s a wonderful little girl from what I’ve seen so far. She’s so cute!” Ms. Minatozaki beams, and you turn your head to meet her gaze again, nodding.

“Yeah, she’s a curious little girl, and very bright.” You begin, then sigh, “I just hope she doesn’t cause any trouble. She’s pretty shy with new people, but she’s very energetic when she warms up and, well- you know how kids are.” You joke. 

Ms. Minatozaki lets out a giggle, and the way her nose scrunches makes you lose your cool a bit, it’s so cute that it has you laughing with her, and you don’t even bother to think about how pink your ears are right now.

“I’ll be going now Ms-”

“You can call me Sana, I mean, you’re not my student.” She says, laughing a little. 

“Definitely not.” You joke, and you want to joke on forever and make her laugh the whole day just to see how her face lights up and how adorable she looks when her nose scrunches slightly.

Sana watches you straighten out your dark brown jacket and her cheeks warm up a bit when you shoot her that cute smile of yours, but of course, you don’t notice due to how oblivious you are in the moment. The young teacher punches herself mentally for feeling a small flutter in her chest from who she thinks is her students’ mom, and she wonders how she’ll survive the year if she’ll see you more often.

“I’ll get going then, again, let me know if anything happens.” 

“Of course, I’ll make sure Hana has a great day,” Sana responds, nodding.

You and Sana exchange sweet smiles again, a similar warmth spreading through the two of you as you part. 

Before heading out the door, you wave to your niece again and the two of you smile at each other. You also take one more look at your niece's beautiful teacher, then head out to clock into your morning to afternoon shift.

Leaving the building, the sun seemed to shine a little brighter, and there was a new warmth in your chest knowing that Hana was in the hands and care of such a beautiful, sweet, and cute teacher: Ms. Minatozaki.

You were definitely going to convince your brother to let you take Hana to school more often, and pick her up regularly too.

… and little did you know, Sana would hope to see you often as well.

#sana x reader #twice x reader #twice imagines #twice sana #sana imagines #kpop x reader

[greatooglymooglyyy]

The Last Ride Chapter Two (AU Cowboy!C.Sturniolo)

series masterlist

summary: when spoiled and sheltered city girl Y/N finds herself in running in the wrong crowd, her dad gives her an ultimatum. it's either spend the summer of her gap year on her uncle's ranch or face being cut off and finding a job. just when she thinks it can't get any worse, she meets Chris, the brooding farmhand who thinks he knows her type. but as the summer goes on, they both realize there may be more to the other than meets the eye.

requested and advised by @rootbeerworshiper

a/n: ok remember when i said this chapter wasn't gonna be that long? i lied. but i love y'all if that helps. also thx so much for 500 followers. that's unreal.

contains: arguing, general ranch activities, cussing, not really anything crazy, 2.6k words

“Rise and shine, city girl!”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I peel open my eyes and squint at the annoying figure in my doorway who’s flicking the lights on and off.

“Chris. Please fuck off.” I mumble, rolling over and yanking the covers over my head. I don’t even know what time it is but from the lack of sun pouring in through the curtains, I know it’s too damn early.

“C’mon now. Get up. You’re gonna wanna get a good breakfast in before we start.” He urges but I just reach out from under the blanket and shoo him away.

“Yes! I was hoping it would come to this.” Chris says, sounding way too excited for my liking. I scramble up in suspicion just in time to see him lifting a bucket of water over where my head was.

“Do it and die!” I yell and he grins in response, lowering the bucket.

“Thought you’d see it my way.” He pauses for a second squinting. “Are you wearing fuckin’ Gucci pjs?” He asks, his voice dripping with disbelief.

“Why don’t you mind the business that pays you?” I grumble, throwing my legs off the bed and into my house shoes so he will leave.

“Unfortunately, I am.” He deadpans. “Get dressed. And I swear before the lord, if I see anything designer, I’ma push you into the pig sty.”

“I’m not an idiot, you know!” I call before he can close the door. He looks over his shoulder, eyes catching on my fuzzy slippers before he answers.

“We’ll see.”

He clicks the door shut and I get out of bed, heading to my suitcase in a bit of a panic. I throw it open, hoping that I managed to pack at least one outfit that will work but cursing under my breath when I find I didn’t. I’m about to admit defeat, mourning my Rick Owens, when I turn and look at the duffle bag my dad handed me before we left home.

He’d placed it alongside my other luggage in the foyer and I’d been so angry at him I didn’t bother to ask what it was. I unzip it and sigh with relief when I find several sets of overalls, cheap denim, and basic tees. He even added a pair of the ugliest work boots I’ve ever seen. It makes my heart lurch to think of him being this thoughtful when he was so mad at me and I almost want to call him. Almost.

I mean he did ship me off to bum-fuck Louisiana. The least he could do is give me a wardrobe. I huff in renewed indignation before heading to the bathroom to get ready.

When I’m finally dressed, I head into the kitchen where my aunt and uncle are laughing with Chris at the table.

“Good morning,” I say quietly, heading over to where Aunt Birdie has left me a plate. Chris looks me up and down before shooting me a taunting thumbs up and I glare back.

“You excited for your first day, bunny?” My aunt asks, standing to collect my uncle and Chris’ plates. I give her a look over my fork full of eggs and she laughs. “I promise it won’t be as bad as you think.”

Uncle Buck cuts in with a curt laugh, grunting as he stands up. “Now don’t you go lyin’ to the girl.” He looks at me with an apologetic smile. “Not to scare ya down the road or nothing, honey. But the first couple days are gonna be rough.” He claps a hand on Chris' shoulder, who’s been watching the interaction with a knowing smirk. “But I’m sure our boy here will take it easy on you today.”

“Of course I will.” Chris lies, nodding down at my plate. “But maybe you should eat up, darlin’. You might need it.”

***************

“Not like that!” Chris snaps, leaning over my head to run a calming hand over the cow I’m desperately trying to milk. “Don’t tug on her. Just squeeze. Firm but gentle.”

“Well, that’s how they do it in the cartoons so-” I cut myself off and roll my eyes as Chris gives me a look like I have two brain cells. “Why can’t you do it then? And I’ll watch.”

“Because then you won’t won’t learn… obviously.” He says, talking slowly as if I’m a toddler.

He walks around the front of the cow and nuzzles her nose. “Hey, Daisy girl. It’s okay. Sorry about her.”

“How do you know it’s a girl?” I ask as he comes back over and squats down next to me. Chris’ jaw drops and he blinks at me slowly.

“Holy shit. There’s no fuckin’ way-”

“Nevermind-”

“How the fuck would a male pro-”

“Let it go-”

“You think we’re out here milking a bull’s ball-”

“Chris! Just help me!” I cut in, frustration clear in my tone. He sighs and leans forward, readjusting my hand placement and showing me how to squeeze. When milk finally comes out, I squeal in excitement and look over at him. He meets my eye with an amused grin before his face drops and he pulls away.

He clears his throat and stands, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “Yeah, just keep doing that. That’s good.” He comments as I continue following his guidance.

When the cow is all milked I stand, pouring my bucket into the larger one Chris points at and give him a cocky smile. “See. I’m not so stupid after all.”

He rolls his eyes and claps sarcastically. “Mhm. Great job.” He comes over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder and turning me to the left. “Now for the other eight.”

I groan in defeat, leaning down to pick my bucket back up. Wonderful.

************

“Okay. For whatever reason, some of the hens don’t like to lay their eggs in the nesting box. We don’t sell those, we just keep them for ourselves and Birdie cooks with ‘em.” He hands me a plastic bucket half filled with hay. “Go walk around and find ‘em all.”

I smile despite myself at this. “Like Easter?”

Chris chuckles and dusts off his hands. “Sure, city girl. Like Easter.”

I roll my eyes as I start looking around the coop, spotting a few eggs in the corner. “Stop calling me city girl.”

“Oh, that’s right. You like bunny better, huh?” He teases, heading over to the nesting box and coaxing the hens out his way.

I toss a glare at his back as I continue my egg hunt. “Or you could just call me my damn name.”

“What’s the fun in that?” He walks over to me and holds up a cracked egg for me to see. “You ever get a defective one like that, you throw it out, you hear? I don’t wanna see it in my pile.”

I scoff at his bossy attitude and I throw him a salute. “Sir, yes, sir.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” He grins, going back to the box. “Why do they call you that anyway? Bunny. Are you really as sweet as all that?”

“Try me and find out,” I reply, scooping up the last of the eggs. I turn and find Chris staring at me with his eyebrows raised, realizing my mistake. “I didn’t mean it like-”

He turns back to the box, cutting me off. “Nah. I think I’ma need to think of something new. Name you somethin’ that fits you better. Let me think.”

“Sure, bud,” I say, stepping closer to him as he explains the difference between the white and brown eggs.

************

“When do we get to go see the horses?” I ask as we load up the pickup truck with more food and water.

He looks over at me in surprise. “You a horse girl? Makes sense. Thought you were weird.”

I glare at him and he chuckles. “Shut up. I just liked to ride a bit when I used to come here.”

He nods and pulls up the tailgate. “It was somebody else’s day to fed ‘em.” He says before he notices the disappointment on my face. “But we can swing by. We’re going that way anyway.”

I give him a small grateful smile and he gestures for me to hop in the truck.

When we pull up to the stables, I’m almost overwhelmed by the memories that flood me. Me standing on a stool to brush my childhood horse, Pinkie Pie. My first time riding, my grandpa stuck like glue to the side of the horse and holding the reins.

I shake it off, not wanting to get emotional and head in behind Chris. He shows me around, pointing to a few of the horses and telling me their names before handing me some oat treats to feed them. I look around at their beautiful faces before I spot one that catches my attention.

She looks almost identical to Pinkie, with chestnut coloring that fades a bit darker around her neck and face. I walk up to her and extend my hand for her to eat from, keeping my palm flat.

“Hold on!” Chris starts but he drops his sentence as she gently begins to eat. I bring up my other hand and stroke her face gently.

“Hey there, gorgeous.”

Chris walks up beside me, clearly dumbfounded. “I can’t believe she’s letting you feed her by hand let alone touch her. Cinnamon’s a mean ole girl. Ain’t that right.” He reaches over the fence and scratches her neck. “She only likes me and your uncle.”

I tut and Cinnamon nuzzles her face close to mine, dropping her ears and closing her eyes.

“Well, I guess she has a new favorite,” I say with satisfaction. I play with her for a few more minutes, giving her love and some more treats before I remember Chris is there.

He’s leaning against the fence staring at us with his arms crossed, a strange dopey look on his face. I raise my eyebrows at him and he clears his throat and pushes up.

“C’mon. Let’s get back to work.”

************

“Lift with your legs and your core, woman. You’re gonna throw your damn back out.” Chris nags as I attempt to pour the pig feed into their container.

“Well, you could be a manly man and lift it for me!” I say breathlessly, grunting with effort. He comes over and snatches the bag from me, lifting it like it was a stick of gum.

“What are you gonna do when I’m not with you?” He says when he’s done, dropping the bag between his feet.

“Oh, I get the feeling you’ll always be over my shoulder so I’m not worried,” I say looking down sadly at my ruined nails. Chris notices and taps his foot for my attention. He's got his evil ass smirk on when I look up at his face and I know I’m in trouble.

“Y’know. I was gonna wait till tomorrow but I reckon it’s about time to weigh a couple of the piglets.”

My eyes widen to saucers at the idea of picking one of those dirty things up. “Chris-”

“Why don’t you go grab us one, huh? Just swing over the fence.” He’s cheesing, seeming the most entertained I’ve seen him yet; and that’s saying something.

I stomp around to the front of the pin, not wanting to let him win. There’s no way I’m sliding over a fence and picking up a pig in the same breath so I unhook the gate and swing it open.

“Wait! Y/N! Don’t-” Chris calls out but it’s too late. A piglet jets his ass out the gate and takes off across the field. I cuss loudly then slam the gate shut before another one can Houdini their way out. Turning on my heel, I take off after the little pig, listening to the laughter of the other workers behind me.

He’s fast, I’ll give him that, and I chase him all the way to the horse stables. He runs in but gets spooked when they neigh and turns back allowing me to scoop him up. He squeals and squirms in protest but I hold on tight.

“Got you. You little trackstar.” I say, out of breath. I turn around and start to head back, stopping in my tracks when I see Chris coming around the corner with a cage.

He takes the piglet from me and I hunch over, trying to stabilize my breathing.

“Bet you listen to me, next time.” He says after he’s got Wilber Jr. secured. But I don’t respond. I just stay bent over exhausted, feeling tears pricking my eyes. Chris notices and comes over, placing a hand on my back and rubbing in circles.

“Hey. I think it’s time for a break. How’s lunch sound?”

*************

We sit on the bed of the truck eating the lunches Aunt Birdie packed for us quietly. I scrunch my nose up when I notice him sipping out of a Pepsi can.

“Does Coke not bother sending their product to this fuck ass state?” I say teasingly.

He screws his face up at me and shakes his head. “Not gonna lie. I’m not even surprised when you’re wrong anymore.”

I laugh lightly, taking another bite of my sandwich.

“So…” Chris starts, reaching back, tossing his trash in the bag. “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know about you, Scotch. Got any siblings?”

“Scotch?” I question, raising my eyebrow at the nickname.

“Yeah. Scotch. Cus people always like to say it has all this kick to it… but, uh, it goes down smoother than you’d think.” Chris maintains eye contact with me for a second and then looks away, stretching.

I smile to myself and clear my throat before answering. “Well… anyway. No to the sibling question. I always wanted one though.”

He snaps pointing at me like he’s having a breakthrough. “There it goes. You’re proving my only kid theory.”

I roll my eyes and push his shoulder playfully. “Shut up.”

He grins at me and cracks his fingers. “Okay give me some more. What else?”

“I’m from Los Ang-”

He cuts me off with a shake of his head. “Duh. I asked about you. Not where you’re from.”

I furrow my brows in thought. Those two things have always been one and the same to me. “Um.. okay. Well, how about you go first? Do you just have your sister or are there more of you?” I shudder dramatically.

He raises a brow at the jab but answers anyway. “Just me and her. She’s my everything.” He smiles lightly and then nudges me with his shoulder. “You’re not off the hook. What do you wanna do when you grow up?” He asks, his tone taking on a mock childish quality. I laugh and rest my face on my cheek, thinking.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out but it’s hard,” I say, drumming my fingers against my face.

He scoffs and I look over at him in confusion. “What?”

“Nothin’. It’s just…I don’t get what’s hard about it.” He says simply.

I sit up, my guard snapping back into place. “I don’t understand what you don’t understand. I mean it’s the rest of my life we’re talking about.”

He rubs a hand over his face and shrugs. “I mean not really. If you don’t like it, you’ll just call up mommy and daddy to fix it for you.” I blink at him and he holds his hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying.”

“No, you’re just being an fucking asshole. As usual.” I snap, sliding off the truck, and storming off toward the goats. I don’t know why his judgment is suddenly affecting me at all but it doesn’t matter. The quicker I get this day over, the quicker I can get away from Chris fucking Sturniolo.

🏷️@sturniolho @sttzee @tillies33ssss @miloisdone1 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @mrsmiagreer @asturniolos

@teapartyprincess4two @whicked-hazlatwhore @sukiipjs @accio326 @sturniolosmind @imfromthediningtable

#sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo oneshot #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo headcanon #chris sturniolo fic #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo x you #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Farmboy

I hate grocery shopping. Usually I make whatever dumb chick I'm seeing do that crap, but I'm between hoes right now. Hopefully the cashier is hot enough to flirt with.

Dragging the cart down the aisle, I almost run into a giant oaf studying a rows of cans. The guy is tall, fat, and severely sunburnt. I can tell he's got some impressive muscle beneath his chub; probably from all the labor he does on his farm. Wearing denim overalls and a straw hat, he's essentially a walking cliche.

"Hey move it, redneck," I snap.

"You have a problem with me, son?" he slowly turns and peers out from his dirty beard.

"Not you," I answer annoyedly, "Just your fat ass. Move it."

This guy has to be slow because he just doesn't seem to get it. Instead of getting out of my way, he takes lumbering steps towards me and grabs my cart with his meaty paws.

"Try again, son."

"Man, let me through already!" I roll my eyes, "Are you dumb or something? All I want to do is pass! Then you can get back to shoveling crap and humping cows, ok?"

The hulking farmer staggers towards me until his fat stomach almost bumps me over.

"You think I shovel crap and hump cows all day?" he quietly growls down at me.

"Sure. You probably sleep with the pigs too big guy," I add.

"That sounds more like something you would do, kid," he slowly retorts.

"Man, look at me," I cry, "Do I look like a filthy redneck?"

"Actually you do."

His response catches me off guard. I'd just wanted to get the shopping done, but now this guy is straight up lying to my face. No one could ever mistake me for a country bumpkin with my stylish hair and $300 sneakers.

"You look exactly like a farmboy," he continues to grumble, "Just take a look at your hands, kid. See how worn they are; how filthy they are. That's the sign of hard work right there."

I can't help but hold my hands out in front of me.

That can't be right! Just like he said, dirt and dust cover my palms all the way up my arms. They're somehow riddled with callouses even though I rarely used my hands for anything.

"What'd you-"

"And look at what you're wearing, kid," he keeps talking, "You've been tracking dirt all through the store with those boots."

"I have $300 sneakers..." I nervously glance down.

I almost scream when I don't see my favorite kicks. My shoes have somehow been replaced with big rubber boots. I don't even own a pair of these, and yet they cover my feet all the way up my shins. Like the farmer had said, they were caked with mud, and it looks like I had created a messy trail of footprints across the store.

"Stop," I beg quietly.

"Stop?" he laughs and each bellow echoes through the store, "I'm just getting started, kid. You haven't even looked in the mirror yet. You've got the same bib overalls I got on!"

I shudder and turn away, abandoning my cart to run through the store in my awkwardly huge boots. I need to find the nearest bathroom and fast. I can already feel my clothes changing and a pair of straps pulling at my shoulders.

Bursting into the restroom I stare at my reflection.

I'm wearing the same redneck outfit as that farmer freak! Before I start ripping the clothes off, the door slams open and the giant farmer lumbers in.

"Stop whatever it is you're doing to me!" I scream, "Give me my clothes back!"

"Why would I do that, kid," he asks, "You love this getup. You don't want those fancy city clothes anyway."

I cringe as the tall boots suddenly feel very comfortable on my feet. The straps of the overalls on my shoulders are all the sudden very comforting to me. God this thing stinks, but I feel a new kind of pride in that stench. It is after all my own smell. There's nothing wrong with reeking of hard work, right?

"That's it, kid," the big redneck pats my head with his dirty hand, "There's nothing you'd rather do than work on my farm, right?"

God, he's right. All that land, the animals, and solitude sound perfect. I would be happy to work on his farm.

"Alright farmboy, come with me."

I follow behind the giant as he marches out of the grocery store. I notice that the cashier is exceptionally cute when we pass, but a pretty girl like that has no interest in me. She cringes at my smell. Girl probably can't handle the smell of a real man.

Back at the farmer's ranch, he leads me to the barn, and shows me inside.

"You'll live in here with the animals, kid," he explains, "I'll teach you the routine of feeding all them, but I have other chores for you to do right now."

The farmer hands me a shovel and bucket. Both things are covered in mud and who knows what else, but I don't mind. I already can guess what my job is.

"Picking up crap and humping cows, huh," he chuckles, remembering words I said a lifetime ago, "Well you can get started by shovelling all the crap. We'll see about the cows later."

"Awesome," I smile, happy he's already trusting me with his animals.

I get right to work, shovelling up the piles of dung. I can't help but smile with joy. This work just makes me so happy. I should probably keep my mouth closed though if I don't want any flies buzzing in, but I just can't help myself. Boy, am I glad I ran into the guy.

#gay hypnosis #mind control #hypno story #male transformation

[lvrtwn]

venus if she was awesome

speedpaint and more thoughts under the cut

venus has always been one of my favorite characters, though i feel her design is pretty underwhelming with a lot of wasted potential. this is kind of a redesign, kind of my own personal headcannon, and kind of how i imagined venus in my head as a kid.

this is supposed to be my version of g1 venus, more similar in facial features and keeping the straight hair. i absolutely love her new hair and face in g3 but im hesitant to call the new outfit an improvement. both g1s outfit and g3s outfit are bad in their own ways. i dont want it to seem like im shitting on the new design. again i think the face sculpts, hair, and body types of g3 are so awesome. its great to see more diversity being included in the designs. i just decided to go with g1 venuses look because thats the venus i grew up with

i definitely took some inspiration from g3s outfit for this design. i like the idea of it but the execution is just not great, not to say her original outfit is any better. i feel like out of all of tge original monsters she was the one with the most waisted potential. i love her personality and the abilities she has but the way she was styled has always bothered me.

in the movies shes described as “eco-punk” which is SUCH a cool style to go with a plant monster character. i just feel like the “punk” in “eco-punk” was never really represented in her outfits. i personally love punk music and clothing; ive been an active member in my local diy scene for many years and i love seeing all the outfits people put together.

i thought i would give her an outfit that shows off a couple of my personal favorite staples of punk style. big chunky leather boots with lots of straps and buckles. kept the shoe mouths from the original because they cool as hell. lots of leather, studs, spikes. i gave her denim cutoff shorts inspired by her gen 3 outfit, same with the torn black top. punk style has a big focus on comfort, practicality, and making things yourself. i imagine she cut a pair of old pants into shorts, roughly cut her “undead kennedys”band shirt tank into a crop top, and probably repurposed the remaining fabric. i also totally didnt draw this whole thing as an excuse to use that pun. i included asymmetrical leg accessories, with one fishnet stocking and one torn up sock. i also feel like she repurposed these, continuing to wear her old torn up socks instead of just throwing them out. i gave her a big chunky studded belt matching one of her cuffs with a recycling symbol belt buckle. i feel like it communicates an important aspect of her personality just at a glance, plus i just love big belt buckles. lastly i added piercings because 1. theyre cool and 2. i for some reason remembered her having an eyebrow piercing but i guess she never had one.

i mostly kept her body and hair the same. changed her ears and hair color slightly but thats just personal preference. i decided to make the vines on her body look more like tattoos instead of being 3d. i imagine she can make them grow into real vines, but when shes not using her powers theyre just flat against her skin. gave her a facial expression that made her look a little more unhinged. she might only do things for the good of the earth but she can still mind control people at will.

i wish i leaned a little bit more into the plant theming but im overall still super happy with how this came out. maybe ill made more monster high redesigns in the future

#monster high #monster high gen 1 #monster high redesign #venus mcflytrap

[smrtnik07]

librarians redesigned!!! by me!!! :)

the designs are free to use, i used this as a character design exercise for myself while recovering from carpal tunnel issues! read more for all the individual designs + me ranting :*

first off roland!! i included an angelica in here, i designed her before him, shes very triangular to me.. maybe a bit more messed up than roland tells us about, he is a biased narrator afterall. anyways i wanted his design to match hers nicely, so hes like a rounded square type of guy... i think projmoon designed him to be Just A Guy intentionally, so i played into it. overall the least interesting design of the bunch imo. its on purpose :)

angela !!! my baby :) an important thing here is her bangs. i dont want her hair to be able to recover from however many years she spent with the hard middle part in lobcorp, i think its cute to incorporate it still. swoopy, fluffy hair for her! and the clothes are just a bit more casual idk the librarian uniforms were kinda boring and stiff to me, as much as it does go with her character.. if u wanna be human u gotta experience the joy of sweatpants or whatever. also i didnt add color but i dont want her to be fully white<3 or fully clear skinned.. give her sunspots on her face. she finally gets to experience sun. :)

guess ill go in order of appearance lol. malkuth! whats the headband for if it doesnt keep anything out of her face!! since shes a bit more active than some of her colleagues, i also gave her a ponytail(its also for the silhouette...) also gave her some chubbier thighs.. also maybe a butler-esque coat, at least to me; i just made it a bit more form fitting than the original. playing into her personality or whatever. shes cute.. remember to take deep breaths!!

yesod!! i want to play into the skin issues a bit more, i still removed his gloves but i gave him a poncho, not just for the square silhouette im trying to build but for more coverage. also emo hair over eyes was funny. also wide flare pants for you, boy. just very square and put together in general

hod! this ones my favorite (i even cared enough to give her a pattern on that skirt!!) it was kinda bugging me how in the artbook i couldnt tell who was writing because hod's, malkuth's, and tiphereth's colors are so similar. so hod is pink now, and malkuth a bit more orange. i kinda went for a romantic poet thing here, dunno how much that worked out, but i think out of everyone you can tell shes the literature girl. gave her pigtails !! theyre cute :> also since i removed the coat decoration off of angela, i gave part of it to hod in the bottom of her coat :). cute and round!

netzach is a very strange man to me.. ellipse shape and loose fitting clothes for u. if i saw him irl i wouldnt approach him. not to say i dont like him as a character, i love him, but i want him to look like a depressed guy who would pick up art as a hobby to distract himself and it works. bro is just surviving out there. also gave him comfy clothes to make the surviving easier, down to the shoes and wide, id assume non-denim pants - maybe cotton? maybe sweatpants that dont fit around the ankle? who knows.

tiphereth!! since she's like the teen girl of the group i gave her a skater dress, converse, and a tied coat around her waist.. like how i used to wear as a teen when i was being a hater and recovering from a death in the family that changed my entire life (im still a teen ... 9 more days till im 20 as of posting this). also gave her fishnets i think she would like that. i imagine she would get headaches bc of those dumb braids on her head<3 or maybe bc her coworkers are kinda dumb<3

gebura :) round face, reverse triangle shaped body.. like a true butch lesbian stereotype.. i decided a leather jacket, docs and pants i see metalheads wear would fit her! red leather jacket, of course. also gave her spiky hair just like projmoon did<3 my favorite detail here are the eyebrows, i think their shape is rlly neat! nvm i think its just that gebura is rlly neat. anyways the eyebrows fit her

chesed my boy.. idk i just saw him and hit him with the transmasc beam and gave him , as the kids say, wh0re eyes. i wanted him to have rounder hips and just be round in general. turtleneck and cardigan combo also, i think he would like wearing that. also somewhat curlier hair, or at least wavy would do him well! and a tote bag, i dont doubt that he would go out to read in coffee shops if he could - so he gets a tote bag to carry his sociology books. i want him to look like he would give the warmest, comfiest hugs and be friend shaped

binah!! this one was the most challenging, trying to find the right place for the colors - to not use too little or too much yellow. i still dont think i got it right but this is as close as im getting. long face, long nose, siren-ish eyes.. messed up in the head bird lady that speaks like hannibal! i also dont think a dress really suits her so i opted for wide pants and a fancy black button up .. maybe angela styled her, who knows. also black fingertips which is a trait i like to give the arbiters (including an oc).. just my own little consistency thing i like to do :)

hi grandpa! ok for hokma i dont think the changes are that big? i gave him O shaped legs and his sword thing i turned into a walking cane, gave him a vest (didnt want to opt for a corset but i think he would enjoy the back support for proper posture) . also gave him a mild gradient from darker gray to lighter gray, since he IS the gray part of the ABC trio. gave him salt and pepper hair and an older face. forgot to draw it, but i wanted to give him a silicone tip for the sword so it doesnt dull out, which he can take off when recieving guests

honorary mention to go along with the angelica i mentioned with roland, i mildly changed up her twin(k) brother. i gave argalia and angie the same hair but mirrored, his a bit more curly and hers a bit more spikey, his face a bit more edgy, hers a bit rounder and kinder. not much else to say here, i liked his design as is, but wanted to add him here :)

#library of ruina #project moon #art i made #big project done wooo ! :) im proud of myself for setting a goal and sticking to it. are you proud of me. tell me youre proud of me

[he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle]

The Serve

My favorite flavor of Gun Atthaphan looks is when he dresses like a U-haul Lesbian.

JUST LOOK AT THE MAN!

Overalls? The purse and bandana?

Those glasses? This butch baseball cap with floral top and patterned scarf and tiny black purse??

The risqué see-through knits with a tank top peeking through?

The iconic fuck-me pink power suit?

This basic white tee and cap combo that makes him look like he'll be ordering a pizza and beer at your house after he fixes your leaky faucet?

And what about this topless sport coat and slacks combo that looks like he's trying to give Cate Blanchett a run for her money?

And let's not ever forget this slutty number that says he's out to steal your husband and step on your daddy.

What a power move! He even casually wears double denim while baring his midriff.

I mean!!! Y'all see it too, right? It's not just me? U-haul. Lesbian.

#gun atthaphan #thai actors

[spectorcomplex]

HOW YOU GET THE GIRL ❀ s. harrington x reader

steve cannot fathom how he ended up in scoops after hours reading teen girl magazines with robin, max, el, …and dustin? but anything for you.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader (she/her pronouns)

warnings: cursing, mentions of cuts and wounds

word count: 6k words

my masterlist

“Hi! What can I get for you?”

“Hello, Robin,” Robin looks taken aback, seeing that customers usually ignored niceties and the worker’s name tags. “I’d like a vanilla with rainbow sprinkles. In a cone, please.” 

Your manners were so nice compared to the others and Robin swears you look familiar. And it clicks as she hands you your change. 

The dingus’ best friend. 

“Right, we just need to get the sprinkles from the back. It’ll be just a sec,” Robin tells you as she grabs the cone. 

You stand to the side out of courtesy but it was a Tuesday afternoon so the place wasn’t crowded with other customers yet. 

The sound of door hinges captures your attention and it was as if all the air were stolen from your lungs. The once dull ache in your chest put itself front and center once again once you see him. Steve. 

Steve who was once your bestest friend in the world until you decided to fuck it all up when your ridiculous mind thought he was going to die from a beating. He’s not your Steve anymore. 

His hair was longer and somehow he looked taller but his face– cherub cheeks, pink lips, and beauty marks remained the same. Cute. The features that had most of the teenage girls of Hawkins kissing the ground he walked on. You would have laughed at his sailor-themed work uniform if not for the melancholy memories flooding your mind. 

Unbeknownst to you, he was inspecting you just the same. Your hair was shorter, sunkissed cheeks, and an outfit he’s never seen you wear before: a tank top with a geometric design and light wash denim overalls that end mid-thigh. He nearly dropped the bag of ice cream toppings when he caught sight of you. 

“Here we go,” Robin said with an awkward chuckle and a flare of her hands. “Rainbow sprinkles.”

“I got it.” Steve insisted with a voice that Robin knew not to argue with. 

He grabbed the cone from Robin’s hand and frowned. Vanilla? You were always a chocolate girl. It was one of his favorite things to make fun of you about, in the most lighthearted way obviously. 

“Thank you!” Your smile was so infectious that even the middle-aged ice cream man managed to return the expression despite the sweltering heat. 

“You’re so weird,” Steve says with a shake of his head. 

“For what? Saying thank you? Having manners?” You frown despite knowing that Steve was just teasing. 

“No. For getting chocolate with rainbow sprinkles,” He replied. “The cardinal rule of ice cream is chocolates go with choco sprinkles and rainbow’s sweetness goes with others.”

“Says the boy with mint choco chip!” You retort, the corner of your lips fighting to lilt up into a smile. “You’re not convincing me with your made-up rules.”

“Well, I’m the exception,” Steve shrugs, his carefree smirk appearing. 

But despite it all, he’d get you all the world’s supply of chocolate ice cream and rainbow sprinkles to keep you happy. 

Maybe a lot has changed in the long months since you two drifted apart. Sure, he praised rainbow sprinkles going with vanilla flavors but having chocolate was what made you, you. 

“Uh, Steve?” Robin called, wary. 

“Right, yeah, sprinkles.”

You watched despite all the bones in your body telling you to look away. The right to gawk at Steve vanished the day he rejected your confession. 

“Here you go,” Steve finally said. He even made the effort to walk nearer to you under the pretense of being careful with the ice cream. 

You really try not to say the words, but all your life it has always been your heart and not mind speaking for you. 

“Thank you.” Your fingers brush Steve’s and you felt like crying. It was warm, how it always has been, despite the cold temperatures of Scoops Ahoy. 

His honey-brown eyes burned through yours and in the past this would’ve been the start of a competitive staring contest but now you surrender and look away. 

“We have some tables if you wanna…” Robin suggested and you silently nodded before even letting her finish. 

What?! Why were you staying? Just the thought of Steve was torture and now you decided to stay at his place of work. Where he was mere meters away from you even though your relationship with each other felt like you were oceans apart. 

You made a mental note to leave the shop once you were done with your ice cream so you wouldn’t look like a freak. Not that you didn’t look like one already. Sadly licking away at your ice cream, sulking, and looking miserable at the corner booth. God, you wished you had brought your walkman and headphones with you but who brings that to the mall? It’s a crowded place where you needed to pay attention to your surroundings. 

Another customer walked in and Robin inwardly groaned at the complicated order. Good thing she was working the cashier and Steve handled the orders itself. The customer walked away to wait at a nearby table and Robin rolled her eyes in annoyance as she turned to give Steve the order. 

“Hey,” She said, snapping her fingers in front of Steve’s dazed eyes. 

Still, that didn’t stop the boy from staring at the corner booth and her own eyes followed. 

“I thought you two were like tight,” Robin whispered, unable to refrain from prying. 

That seemed to grab Steve’s attention as he pushed himself from the table he was leaning on, “What? Who?”

“You and Y/N? I mean you two were everyone’s favorite couple,” She said matter-of-factly. “…Of besties.”

“Piss off.” Steve said, agitated. But for what reason exactly? He knows he’s just feeling that way to mask the immense sadness he’s feeling when you practically ignored him. 

“I’m just saying,” Robin shrugged, indifferent to her coworker’s annoyed tone. “Everyone at Hawkins High saw you two together go from inseparable to well.. to this.” 

She was right on the money and Steve didn’t want to validate that. Instead, he acted as if he was scooping up ice cream like he wants to be employee of the month. He even served the customer at their table instead of calling their attention to grab their ice cream at the counter. He took the risk of glimpsing at you as he walked back. 

You left the store wordlessly and Steve hung his head down low. He’s never opened up about the two of you two to anyone and the prospect of confiding about it to Robin both terrified him and yet it felt like a release. 

“I…” He didn’t even know where to start. “I fucked up.”

He was surprised at the silence. At this point, he was expecting a sarcastic quip from his friend but she genuinely looked concerned at what he had to say. 

So tell her he did. About how you tended to the wounds that Billy gave him, sobbing and blubbering through your words asking him to stay awake and that you loved him; you loved him more than a best friend should. About how he didn’t say anything back and pretended to ignore what happened even as you called the following days to check up on him. About how a week later he said he was going to Senior Prom with somebody else. Like a fucking idiot. 

It was gradual, slow— the way you slipped from his fingertips. The pain was like a bullet not having an exit wound and the pain had to be prolonged as someone tried to extract it from his body. He tried to backtrack and save your friendship. He clutched at the edges of what was left. Trying to pair up with you during projects or volunteering at your club but his efforts were in vain. He saw the way your eyes averted and how you faked your smiles when he was around. The hurt never faded and that metaphorical bullet was still in him. 

“But,” Robin huffed, hesitating. “Did you love her back? Do you love her? In the way Y/N meant in her confession?”

That question nearly threw Steve off his balance. Of course, he did. He always has. In a platonic way, in a romantic way. In every way a person can love somebody. 

He can’t count how many nights he laid awake thinking about you telling him through teary, earnest eyes I love you. I love you so much, Steve, you’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. 

It’s his fault that you two were never okay after that night. He’s loved you for what he can only say his entire life. Ever since your moms set up a play date between their toddlers. He’s a coward who used the excuse that he needed time to think things through. At that point in time, he felt like he still had serious feelings for Nancy and he didn’t want to try something new with you before he had that sorted out. But still, he should’ve addressed it in a way. He knows that now. 

“Yeah. Yes.” Steve replies with conviction. 

Robin’s expression lightens at her friend’s admission. A plan was already brewing in her mind. 

“Okay. Tell me when’s the next time those kids of yours come around.”

—+—

The day they came around was 3 days later, Friday. Another movie was released, called Back To The Future or something like that and of course, the kids wanted to use the employee hallways to avoid the usual Friday mall crowd. 

Usually, Steve let them do it without a word other than his usual warnings but Robin asked him to let her talk to them first. 

Lucas was ringing the bell, his other hand linked with Max’s. Perfect, Robin thinks.

“Alright,” She slams her palms down on the counter to assert her authority. The kids look on in curiosity. “I need to talk to you before you take advantage of our workplace access again.” 

“Us?” Mike asks, impatient. 

“No,” Robin rolls her eyes before pointing to Max. “To you.” 

The girl frowns in confusion but lets herself be led by Robin towards the back. 

“Uhm..? Is everything okay?” Max asks, crossing her bare arms to fight the cold. 

“Yeah, totally. It’s just, I know you skate and all that but is it possible you have teen girl magazines? Like seventeen or others like that?” Robin lets out in a single breath and she’s thankful Max understood all that. 

The red-haired girl flushes at admitting that yes, she does have said magazines but some she let Eleven borrow for the meantime. 

“Cool. Are you allowed to go to the mall tomorrow? With Eleven and the magazines?” 

“Uh. Sure?” Max answered, wary of Billy but she figured he was too busy going on dates with the public pool patrons. 

“Hellooo?” Dustin barges in. “What is this? Some no boys club?”

“Don’t be a jerk.” Steve delivers a light slap to the boy’s head. 

“You’re a jerk.” 

“Whatever. You two done?” Steve asks the girls with a kinder tone. He needs to be nice to Robin for this one. 

“Yeah, go on through,” Robin opens the back door for the kids with a flourish before she turns to Max. “The mags are for Steve by the way.” 

“Dude!”

Max grins. She was a bit hesitant to say yes to Robin’s whims but now she was entertained. 

“Me and El will be right on time tomorrow.” 

—+—

The weekends were every mall worker’s nightmare. And since it was the summer, Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor had no customer shortage. 

Steve was muttering under his breath, annoyed at the customer who argued with him for five minutes about spare change. He was about to glare at the person next in line when–

“Hi.” 

Steve nearly spilled all the change in his hands at the sound of your voice. It was timid, a tone he didn’t like when used to address him, but still your lovely, lovely voice. 

“Hello!” He could’ve stopped at that. “Ahoy!”

You giggled. You actually giggled. 

Any trace of annoyance left his body in an instant. You looked different today. Not physically but with more how you carried yourself. Your sweet disposition that he loved so much was back. Gone were the sad eyes you had the last time you came into the store. Still, you were a vision in your sleeveless pink chiffon dress. 

“What can I get ‘ya?” Steve asked in a cheery voice, doing everything he can in his power to keep that subtle smile on your face. 

“A waffle cone, please. With chocolate ice cream.” 

He felt his heart tug at that, “Any toppings?” 

You shook your head no and he briefly glanced at the sprinkles container to the side, unsure what to feel. 

You stood at the exact place you waited last time after paying. 

“Robin! Cashier!” Steve called out, wanting to personally make your order and hand it to you again. Anything to feel your skin graze his once more. 

You watched him work his way around the ice cream, just like you did a few days ago. He was magnetic. You always struggled to fight the urge to look away from him when he wasn’t looking back.

Despite the long line, Steve was sluggish in his movements. Based on the few moments you managed to observe his and Robin’s rapport, you wondered why she wasn’t scolding him for being slow in making this particular order. You willed your heart to slow down and your mind to avoid any delusions. 

He walked to you again to give you the ice cream. 

“Here you go,” His voice. So much sweeter than the dessert you were about to consume. You missed hearing it and you felt sad again, just like you did last Tuesday.

“Thank you,” You grabbed the cone from his hands, equally as slow. “Steve.” 

You swear you heard his breath hitch but you didn’t want to feed yourself any more hope of rekindling what you had once with him. 

“You’re welcome.” He said, eyes fixed on you with that heart-stopping smile. 

You felt defeated when you saw that all the tables and seats were occupied. You really wanted to stick around… for the cold the store provided in this summer heat. Today was hotter than usual so..

“You can stay at the back.”

Robin’s voice startled you and you were thankful you didn’t drop the cone in your hands. 

“No, no, that’s okay,” You eyed the customers, afraid they’ll get mad at your special treatment. “I’ll just find a spot at the food court.”

“And find even more occupied crowded seats?” Robin asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

You hung your head. Robin noted it was oddly exactly like the way Steve does. 

“Okay.” You bit your lip and followed her. 

What were you doing? This was your best— ex-best friend’s line of work. The outside was already dangerous territory for your fractured heart and now you were invading more of his space. You needed to get away.

Almost like she could read your mind, Robin placed a hand on your shoulders and continued walking towards the back. 

“Have fun,” Robin gave you a toothy grin with both her hands in thumbs-up before going back to work.

Have fun with what exactly? You gulped when you saw the familiar backpack strewn on a table. You were reminded that you didn’t bring your walkman again to serve as your distraction. Idiot. 

You ate your ice cream in silence, the chatter from the customers outside and Robin and Steve’s voices greeting the patrons were what filled the empty back room. 

You sat up in alarm when you heard Steve shouting at somebody. 

“Don’t go in there!”

You squeaked in surprise when the door was thrown open and you thought it would be some angry manager but you were met with the sight of a kid, probably a pre-teen, carrying something that looked like a radio prototype. He was wearing a green and yellow hat and looked just as surprised but he was quicker to recover. 

“I just need to borrow a few for batteries, Steve!” The kid shouted and you looked on in confusion. “And since you won’t let me get from the tip jar…”

The kid made a beeline towards Steve’s backpack and pulled out a wallet. It was still the same plain leather brown one Steve carried since freshman year. He opened the wallet and instead of grabbing any money, he turned to you with wide eyes.

“Oh my god, of course! You’re the girl in Steve’s wallet! You have longer hair here—“

“Henderson, I swear to God!”

Steve came barreling in and you looked like a deer in headlights and stared at him unabashedly. His eyebrows furrowed before looking at Dustin and he wanted the ground to swallow him whole right then and there. 

“Hey, Steve, cute pic of you two,” The kid shrugged, as if his words didn’t affect the two older teenagers in front of him in the cruelest way. “I’m Dustin, by the way.”

“H-hello, Dustin,” You managed to blurt out, accepting Dustin’s outstretched hand. 

“Nice finally meeting you, Y/N, even though I see you in school sometimes,” He talked as fast as Robin did. “Anyways, gotta go, I’ll pay you back, Steve!”

Dustin walked out of the room in a rush, meaning that he haphazardly dropped the wallet and it coincidentally fell at your feet. 

Your manners were a big part of you and of course you bent down to pick up the item without hesitation. It felt as if you were kicked in the ribs when you saw the polaroid slip out from the wallet. 

It was the summer before junior year, your birthday party held in the garden of your home. You may have slipped some tequila into the punch without your parents' permission but in your defense, it was just the right amount to give a baby buzz. Steve had wrapped his arms behind you in surprise. You should’ve known he was up to something when Tommy appeared in front of you laughing and holding his polaroid camera. 

“Alright, lovebirds, smile!”

Your joyful expression was a result of Steve placing a kiss on your cheek for the photo and Tommy somehow managed to capture the exact moment your demure smile turned into a full blown grin. 

On the white part below, yours + Steve’s initials were written in permanent marker with the word 4Ever. 

He dated Nancy Wheeler shortly after that. 

“I-uhm,” You stuttered, handing Steve his things with shaky hands. “Here you go.” 

“Thanks.” Steve managed to let out in a whisper. 

“I should go,” Here you go again, avoiding looking into Steve’s eyes. “Thank you for the ice cream and the seat or space or… yeah. Bye.”

You didn’t wait for his farewell when you rushed out Scoops Ahoy with tears already running down your rouged cheeks. You cried in the secluded area of the parking lot. 

—+—

Dustin’s a persistent child. That trait mixed with his penchant for being nosy was the perfect recipe for giving Steve Harrington a headache. 

“I told you nothing’s going on,” Steve groaned, hands on his hips.

Dustin raised an unimpressed brow, “Okay. Then why are you still here then? If it’s just the girls?”

“Because I need to make sure everything’s locked up.”

“Robin can do that, can’t she?” Dustin replied without missing a beat. “What magazines was she talking about yesterday?”

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Steve asked, evading the question he was scared Dustin was going to get answers to. One way or the other. 

“It’s summer vacation.” Dustin deadpanned. 

A store nearby was finally closing and that caught Steve’s attention for a split second, but Dustin took that opportunity to make his way towards Scoops Ahoy like a slippery eel. 

The mall was dark and devoid of its usual neon lights, the ice cream parlor being the only major light source left on. This better work, Steve thought, exasperated.

“What the shit? These are the magazines for you?” Dustin exclaimed, going through the pile while ignoring the glares from the girls. 

“Hey.” Eleven scolded. 

“This,” Steve said, pointing at the magazine pile. “Is all Robin’s idea.”

Robin scoffed, “You know, I think you need to be nicer to the ones helping you get the love of your life back.” 

Dustin looked dumbfounded. 

“Oh my god, is that why Y/N Y/L/N was here earlier?” Dustin gasped. “But if you two aren’t friends then why was she here?”

“Because I’m a genius. More than those who go to science camps,” Robin tugged on Dustin’s wrist so he could sit down. “Now, are we going to help this dingus get the girl of his dreams?” 

“That’s romantic,” Eleven said with a breathy sigh and hands under her chin. 

“I know just the pages,” Max muttered, still feeling a little shy about the teen girl magazine fiasco.

“My god,” Robin said in disbelief as her eyes roved over the articles. “This sounds like a marriage proposal instead of first stage boyfriend-girlfriend stuff.”

“What does it say?” Steve asked, ignoring Dustin’s inquisitive stare.

Robin pushed the magazine towards him. 

How to apologize to your girlfriend after a fight 

By Betty McCartney 

Steve immediately cringed. He decided to only read the highlighted parts instead. 

Say you want her and nobody else. 

The following text mentioned something about having arguments over jealousy but Steve decided to nitpick that sentence. 

He hasn’t wanted anybody else for a long time now but he does want you. He always wants you. There’s this void in his heart that was left hollow ever since you dissipated from his life. 

“These are so corny,” Max huffed, reading a different magazine. 

“Yeah but you want Lucas to do those too, don’t you,” El teased in a sing-song voice and Dustin joined in. 

Max rolled her eyes, her freckled cheeks dusted with a light shade of red. 

“We’re here for Steve and Y/N so here,” Max handed her magazine over with a page opened. 

How you get the girl!

By Alison Alwyn 

Steve couldn’t help but agree. They were corny. But the advice seemed heartfelt and he hoped that it was actually going to help him get his best girl back. 

—+—

It was 10 pm, and the mall was already a ghost town. Steve decided that he better bring the kids back to their homes or else he’ll get the brunt of it all. 

They all collectively groaned when they exited Starcourt and saw the pouring summer rain. It wasn’t a light drizzle; it was the one with terrifying lightning and thunder overhead. 

Steve immediately thought of you. You hated thunder. This instinct to see how you were holding up overwhelmed him. It was ridiculous, your house is as safe as it can be but he’s been over at your house on more rainy days than he can count on both hands. 

The last stop was Eleven’s, or technically Jim Hopper’s, house. She and Max ran in the rain giggling.

“Good luck,” The girls said in unison before exiting his car. He noticed they left two magazines in the back on purpose. 

Steve actually felt warm at the support Robin and the kids gave him. They were truer friends than some of the others he hung out with back in school. He took their good luck with a genuine smile and waited to use that luck the next time you showed up in Scoops. 

Thunder rumbled in the sky and try as he might to ignore his reckless gut, Steve decided to jump the gun and drive over to your place. Just to check up on you, he thought. Nothing less, nothing more. Although he did want something more he wouldn’t push it if it made you uncomfortable. 

The streets and turns he had to take were familiar. He hasn’t driven here in a while but the roads were seared into his brain after years of picking you up and driving you home. 

“Steve, my parents are going to kill me.”

“And me,” He said with a shrug. His sixteen year old bravado getting the best of him. 

“Can’t you practice driving when it’s not raining cats and dogs outside?” You shrieked as he started backing up from your driveway. 

He arrived at your place just as the first heavy raindrops fell. You told him he was crazy, going around in such conditions without a license. 

“It’s still going to rain when I do have my license so this is actually good because I’m preparing for real-life situations,” He argued with that smug smirk of his. These were moments you found butterflies fluttering in your stomach. 

In a blink, Steve found himself on your street. He can see that there were picnic tables littered in your front yard. That wasn’t there the last time he came over, which was probably six months ago now. 

The rain was still pounding and Steve’s heart was beating the same in his chest. He could see the lights in your bedroom were still on but the rest of the house was dark. Your parents were probably on the same business trip his parents went on. 

Steve cursed under his breath when he saw that the only place he was going to be able to park was across from your house. Although one of the girls did mention that the rain was quote-on-quote romantic. 

He cursed once again when he saw that he didn’t have his jacket in the backseat. He has to ruin his Scoops uniform but thought nothing of it since it was his day off tomorrow. 

Well, here goes nothing. 

Steve rushed from his car to your front doorstep, the rain and cold wind hitting his skin like pinprick needles. He was shaking like a cat by the time he took cover by your doorstep and contemplated between knocking or pressing the doorbell. He decided to do both. 

His entire body was drenched and his once voluminous hair was flat and dripping water down his forehead. He was shivering as he tried to listen in to your footsteps. 

The door finally swung open and the sight of you filled him with so much warmth that the rain didn’t stand a chance.

“Steve?!” You exclaimed, obviously shell shocked. “What are you doing here?” 

He tried to let out a reply but his teeth were chattering so much that he only managed to muster a shaky grin. 

“Are you insane?!” Your voice pierced through the rain and your warm hand grabbed his wrist before pulling him inside your house. 

You were a blur in his eyesight as you whizzed around, talking about grabbing towels and new clothes. Steve stayed standing on the welcome rug so he wouldn’t make a mess on the floor, your parents would probably be mad, although they didn’t do the cleaning of the house themselves. 

“Here, here,” You panted, wrapping a fuzzy towel around Steve’s shaking form and you stood on your tiptoes to wrap a smaller one around his hair. 

“Thanks,” Steve finally said and took in your form. 

You looked adorable in your loose knit sweater, checkered shorts, and mismatched socks. Your hair was up and your angelic face devoid of makeup. He missed seeing that. 

He’s seen you grow from a bare-faced child to a young lady. Steve’s heart practically stopped the first time you wore shimmery pink lip gloss in sixth grade. 

“C’mon,” You whispered, tugging on his wrist again for a split second. 

He followed you into the spacious kitchen. You told him to sit down while you make tea to warm him up and who was he to turn down being doted on by you? 

The silence was palpable. The only sound in the kitchen was the boiling kettle and Steve was trying to find the courage to say something. He really needed the luck Max and Eleven bestowed upon him. You had your back to him and it was obvious that your posture was rigid. He could still read you well. 

You quickly worked on giving him the steaming mug. He sat up, alarmed when you left the kitchen swiftly and without a word. Though, the sounds of you rummaging around sent a wave of relief through his cold body. 

He was sipping on the hot drink when you entered again, this time holding a pile of clothes. Steve recognized his old athletics department shirt. You still had his stuff? 

“Here’s all I can get, I don’t think you’ll like my dad’s clothes,” You bit your lip as you looked down, “Sorry, I don’t have any… knee high socks.”

It was a teasing jab at his Scoops uniform and Steve couldn’t bite back his smile. 

“It’s fine, management has more,” Steve teased back and got up like it’s muscle memory. He still knows his away around your house. 

He suddenly stopped in his tracks and looked back, this time he finally caught your eyes, “Thank you, Y/N.”

You didn’t look away when you gave him a minuscule smile. 

That smile masked the different emotions you felt the moment you swung open your door. You didn’t know who to expect when you heard the series of knocks but Steve Harrington was last on your list. That didn’t mean you were disappointed. Confused but not disappointed.

You assumed he went straight to you after work since he was wearing that ridiculously cute sailor’s outfit. But why did he come over? Nearly midnight, his pale skin making the ever vibrant Steve Harrington look like a ghost in the rain. Somehow, you think he was a figment of your imagination, a result of being lonely in this massive house. Your lonely days a few years ago would quickly be eradicated by Steve coming over with no warning. Tonight, it seems that he has done the same. For nostalgia’s sake? Just because you came by Scoops twice this week? 

Turns out, you weren’t hallucinating when he returned to the kitchen, wearing the clothes you gave him. Technically, it is actually his own clothes but just the ones you shoved to the back of your closet all those months ago when you decided to distance yourself from him. It had been one of the hardest decisions in your life. 

You wanted to yell at him. Throw accusatory words about what the hell he’s doing here after breaking your heart. Steve has been with too many girls to not know when he’s left them lying in heartache. Your brain wanted to tell him to get out and don’t ever think about coming back, but then you would be lying to yourself.  

Yet you didn’t say a word. Not when he looked like that. You swear he’d worn the same outfit back in Sophomore year. Only this time he was taller and his hair, though damp, was more beautiful than ever. You felt weak in the knees.

“Y/N,” He started. You knew that tone of voice, never forgot it really. Steve was about to say something important and serious, he was just really nervous about saying the wrong thing. 

You looked into his eyes. It hurt your entire being to do so but you figured he needed a little encouragement and you really really wanted to hear what he had to say to you after showing up in the rain. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry,” Steve finally let out and he felt a flood open, “I was such an asshole– I’m such an asshole and a coward for… doing that to you.”

“Doing what, Steve?” You hated how your voice cracked. 

“Breaking your heart,” He said with conviction and his shoulders slumped at the teary frown on your face. “Ignoring that you said you loved me because I was too afraid to tell you that I felt the same.”

Blood rushed into your ears and you could see Steve’s lips moving but you could barely register his words. 

“What?” 

Steve immediately stopped and took careful steps towards you until he was in your personal space. When you didn’t move away, he took that a sign to cup your cheeks in his hands. You only noticed that stray tears were falling from your eyes when his thumbs gently swiped them away– just like he always did when you cried. 

“I love you,” He whispered and you felt your lips wobble some more. “I always have and always will.”

“Stop,” You sobbed but didn’t move away. “I barely had a boyfriend back in school while you dated so many girls. You can’t just barge back into my life telling me this.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Steve nodded with his own teary eyes. He lead the two of you to sit down. “I don’t expect anything, Y/N. I just want you to know how awful I feel. It’s haunted me since the day you said it.” 

You could only nod. You thought you had your feelings in check but his words echoed in your head. Steve felt the same. He loved you– he loves you. You let out another broken sob. 

“I miss you so much, Y/N,” Steve’s voice cracked just like yours did. You know he’s being truthful. 

You let yourself be pulled into his arms and you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, undoubtedly staining the shirt with your tears. 

“I miss you too, Steve,” His arms tightened around you. “But I don’t know where to go from here.”

You weren’t ready to jump from one phase of your relationship with Steve to another extreme. Treading careful grounds would be a precaution to avoid giving yourself whiplash and having another fall out with the boy you loved. Still love.

“I want us to be in each other’s lives again. If that’s what you want,” The words you dreamt of him saying finally came to life. More melodramatic but it was still the words you needed to pull you away from your misery.

“Okay,” You found yourself nodding. “I just don’t know if it will be easy for me.”

Now was the time to be honest. This was the start of reconciliation. This time you’ll forgive, despite the urge to fight. You miss him too much to be mad anymore. 

“Then, let’s take it slow?” He suggested. “Like how I taught you how to ride a bike? Though I’ll be more patient this time around I promise.”

You giggled and pulled away from his neck to face him. Your heartbeat sped up when you saw his eyes light up. 

In all the years you knew him, Steve never broke a promise he made you. So when he says this vow to you it reminded you of how the good times used to be. 

His unintentional rejection of you was torment but you feel like half of that pain was caused by your own choice to ignore his attempts at making it up to you. It was hurt to an extreme degree but you always have space in your heart for Steve. 

“Okay,” You repeated. “No rushing.”

“No rushing,” Steve said, hands reaching out to hold yours. You gulped when you saw his biceps strain against the sleeves of the old shirt. “I’ll be nice and wait. Even if it’s for forever.”

You smiled through snot and tears, “Did you get that from a magazine?”

When Steve didn’t answer immediately and the familiar flush rushed up from his neck to his cheeks, your heart felt so much lighter and you started laughing. 

“Oh my god, you totally did!” You laughed more at the idea of Steve reading a magazine with cheesy advice. “You promise?”

He nods, “I want you in my life, Y/N. And this time no more running from problems, for worse or for better.”

And even though he broke your heart, you know that Steve will put it back together.

Steve knows that he would have to grovel and crawl on his knees to earn your forgiveness and he’d do that for the rest of his life just to make sure he wouldn’t make you cry again. 

“Will I get a complimentary chocolate ice cream with rainbow sprinkles next time I’m at Scoops Ahoy?” 

Steve pulls you into a hug and mumbles the word forever into your shoulder. That’s how he got the girl. 

steve as a taylor swift album would be 1989 i said what i said, please reblog if you enjoyed and comments are appreciated- seriously i’d cry tears of joy :’) this is my second stranger things fic and you could read the first one about our beloved eddie here 

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington #stranger things #stranger things season four #stranger things season 4 #stranger things fanfiction #robin buckley #eleven #max mayfield #dustin henderson #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve and robin #eddie munson x reader

[chiriwritesstuff]

Meet Me at the Farmers Market - 8. Compliance

Farmers Market! Joel Miller x Confident! Plus Sized F! Florist Reader

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: What does a Contractor do in his spare time? Sell his wood carvings at the Saturday Farmers Market, of course! A Grumpy x Sunshine Joel Miller series collective of one shots, Updates every Saturday!

Chapter Rating: E, MDNI (18+)

Word Count: 1.9K

Warnings: Roleplay, This is FILTHY, Too much porn, not too much plot, Daddy needs to EAT, ok?, Talks about OSHA Compliance, Wear the proper PPE if you're going into a job site, okay?

Summary: Joel catches you in improper PPE, so you do what it takes to not get shut down...

A/N: Hello there!

I thought I would give you all a little treat before Christmas! I will be posting another chapter on Christmas day, so enjoy this little bit of fun before then!

This chapter takes place before Pt. 4.

"Hey Joel, good morning!"

You peek out from your office at the back of your shop, a bright smile on your face as Joel shuffles into the barren space, still a construction site riddled with pieces of reclaimed wood. Coffee in one hand, iPad in the other, Joel ambles toward his worktable in the corner. "Mornin'," he grunts, a subtle grin appearing as he secures his tool belt, slung low on his jean-clad hips.

Casually strolling over, you join him, smoothing out your overalls and adjusting your oversized flannel, your hair neatly woven into braids. "What's on the agenda today?"

"Figured I'd kick things off with the display cases, checking out the designs we agreed upon. Found some great pieces of oak at the reclaim center-" Joel's words trail off as he finally notices you, his eyes widening, mouth slightly agape. You catch him mid-sentence, twirling a pigtail around your finger, biting your lower lip, a mischievous glint in your eye.

"Something the matter, Joel? See something on my face?" you tease, offering a small, playful smile.

His Adam's apple bobs as he pivots back to the plans laid out on his worktable. "No, you just look pretty today."

"Oh, do I?"

"Well, those overalls are all wrong, being that they're short and all, and those boots," he motions to your feet, "Are they OSHA-regulated? Don't want you hurting your pretty little feet."

You laugh, a sound that fills the shop. "Just trying to keep things interesting around here, Joel. Wouldn't want you to think work is the only thing worth looking at." Your eyes appraise his form as you slide between him and his worktable. "You don't look too bad yourself," you tease, drawing a finger down his chest to his toolbelt. "I love a man in uniform, especially when they wear it so damn well."

Joel's eyes widen in surprise, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "Well, I aim to please," he says, his voice husky.

"Do you now? Is it because I'm paying you?" you cheekily reply, "If I put on this hard hat, maybe you'll look the other way if the city asks about my compliance. I would hate to be shut down for something silly like my attire."

"Well, with an ass like this," he grabs it for good measure, large hands caressing the span of your cheeks, squeezing as he groans, a wicked smile on his face - "I think we can work something out, don't you think, baby girl?" He starts to undo the straps of your overalls. "I think that we should take this off, it's not protective enough for those legs of yours," he slides the denim past your hips, letting them drop to the floor as he licks his lips in anticipation. "Mmm," he moans, "Turn around for me, I need to get a good look for my inspection." He turns you around as he takes in your ass, the fabric of your thong devoured by your asscheeks. He slides a finger between the fabric and your ass crack, barely grazing your slit. "Very, very nice," he mutters to himself. He raises his fingers coated with your slick to your face. "Wet already, baby?" he asks, his eyes blown. "Fuck, what am I going to do with you? What are you going to do to make your indiscretions up to me?"

"I can't afford to be shut down, Joel." You plead, grabbing his hands as you take his slick-coated fingers into your mouth, your eyes never leaving his. He pulls them back with a satisfied pop. "I'll do anything, please Joel."

"First of all," he whispers, his fingers undoing the buttons of your flannel slowly, "I'm gonna need you to redress with the proper PPE-" he says, opening your shirt and exposing your breasts as he groans in appreciation, grabbing the safety vest on his worktable. "Put this on, and sit that pretty ass on the table." You shrug off your flannel, smiling as you grab the vest from his hands, shimmying it on. "Like this?" you ask, your nipples peeking out through the neon mesh as you lift your hips onto the table, spreading your legs more to present yourself to him.

"Just like that, baby, that's much better," he says as he settles himself between your legs. "You know, I shouldn't be drinking coffee on an empty stomach, maybe I should get something to eat," he kneels down, settling himself on his knees as he takes in your pussy, his fingers slipping through the flimsy lace between your slit. "You're fucking drenched, look at you, is this honey all for me?" You nod as he slips his fingers through your folds, closing your eyes in pleasure. "Uh uh, baby. None of that. You keep your eyes on me, Daddy needs to eat."

You arch your back and whisper something incoherent, spreading your legs wider to accommodate his broad form. "Please Joel, can't have you working on an empty stomach…"

"Well," he smiles as he slips a finger into your cunt, his finger so thick that you flinch at the sudden intrusion. "If you're offering… Fuck Sunflower, she's crying for me. Absolutely fucking weeping." he takes a deep breath as he pulls the fabric of your thong harshly to the side, ripping it off of you as you yelp in surprise. "Joel! those were my favorite panties!"

"You can just write them off, hazards of the job, right?" he replies, the flat of his tongue diving into your folds as he feasts on your cunt like a man starved. "You keep your eyes on me as I feast on this pussy," he mumbles as he devours you, gripping your thighs as he locks his eyes on you. "Try not to blink, baby, watch me finish my meal. Gonna have to prep you to handle some heavy machinery, can't have you getting injured on the job site."

"Fuck Joel, just like that, I'm so close baby…" you mumble, harshly grabbing onto his hair as he moans in appreciation. He slips another finger into the warmth of your cunt as he continues to lick and suck, the sound of your wetness obscene as it echoes in the vastness of your empty shop.

"You think you can take one more? I need to make sure you can take it, baby."

"Please Joel, I can take it, give it to me-" you stutter, your body shaking as he leads you to completion, the safety vest spread wide open as you play with your nipples, tweaking the pointed buds as you shift your hips, tilting them as he continues on, the tip of his tongue flicking your clit. "I'll be so fucking good for you, Joel, please- I'm gonna…" You gush into his mouth, the wetness of your slick coating his beard as you ride on his fingers, your body taut and tight as your thighs quiver. You haven't gotten used to being used so thoroughly, feeling faint as he smiles in satisfaction, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt as he rises onto his feet.

"Fuck, baby, best breakfast ever. Do you think I prepped you enough to handle my machinery?" he cheekily smiles as he settles himself back between your legs, your hands blindly reaching for the buckle of his belt, quickly undoing it as you reach into his jeans.

Your eyes widen as you pull his hard cock out of his boxers, the tip red and angry as precome starts to leak from the slit. "Fuck Joel, is this going to fit?"

"We'll make it fit, baby" He breathes as he notches the tip at your entrance, his eyes locked onto your cunt as he pumps his shaft, his hand going to your folds and gathering your slick, pumping his cock once more as he wets the shaft. It's so fucking unhinged, so fucking obscene with the noise it makes, squelching as he guides himself to you once more. "Let me just test it with the tip, let me work you up to take me, okay baby? I'll make it fucking fit."

"Shit," he roars as your cunt envelops his wide tip, his hips pushing into you back and forth in shallow thrusts. He buries his face in your neck, licking and kissing down to your breasts as he slowly adds inch after inch until he's fully sheathed inside your channel, his breaths short as he allows you to adjust to his size. "Fuck, are you ready, Sunflower? Can I move?"

"FUCK Joel, you're so deep like this!" you cry, wrapping your legs around his waist as he lowers you down onto his worktable, capturing your lips in a kiss fervently, all teeth and tongue as he starts to pound into you in earnest. You claw at his back, your fingers grabbing onto his shirt so tightly you swear you hear a rip, crying into his neck "Please, Joel, please fuck me harder! I can take it! I can take it all!" He slides a hand under your ass and tilts your hips until he's hitting that spot, so delicious you're rendered speechless. A tear falls down the slope of your cheek, you swear he licks it off you as he kisses you once more.

He stands upright once more as he takes in the sight of his cock buried into your pussy, your slick dripping down your thighs as you make a mess of his worktable below, your plans ruined and soaked. "Fuck baby, you feel so good, so fucking perfect, so perfect for me… I'm going to come, do you want me to come in this pretty cunt?" he mumbles incoherently, "Are you gonna milk me, baby?"

"YES yes yes yes" you nod absentmindedly, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Fuck Joel, come inside of me, let your cum drip down my legs as I work today, let everyone know who owns me…" He collapses on you as he plunges into you one last time, filling you with his hot release as he kisses you. "Fuccckkkkkk," he says as he kisses your neck, his breath hot as he attempts to steady his breath. "I didn't think you would be into roleplay, honey. It was so fucking hot, we need to do this again."

You smile as you push him off, removing the safety vest as you grab your clothes on the floor. "What time is it? Tommy should be heading over soon, need to make sure he doesn't walk into a warzone-"

"Let him walk into one, I don't care," Joel says defiantly as he buckles his jeans.

Like clockwork, there's a tap on the window, still covered up with an easy mask. "Hey! Anyone in? Joel? Sunflower?" Tommy's voice calls out from behind the door. "Let me in, alright? It's hot as fuck outside!"

You smirk as you fiddle with the straps of your overalls. "Speak of the devil," you say, kissing Joel once more as you make your way to the door. You put on a smile as you let Tommy in, Joel back at his worktable as he hurriedly rolls up the ruined plans.

"Took you guys long enough," Tommy chides, handing you a cup of matcha. His face scrunches as he takes a whiff of the store. "What is that smell?! It smells fucking awful!"

Joel throws the safety vest onto himself as you laugh, walking back into your office as Tommy looks back in confusion. "What?" he exclaims. "It does!"

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x plus size reader #joel tlou #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fic #joel the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us smut #the last of us #the last of us fanfic #meet me at the farmers market #pedro pascal characters #pedro fics #pedro pascal fandom #pedropascaledit

[theloveoftoms]

sittin' on the dock of the bay - jake 'hangman' seresin x reader

Summary: a fun day at the beach with your boyfriend. suntanning, swimming, and shirtless hangman, what more is there to want? ;)

A/N: I had a dream about hangman about a month ago, and I finally found the time to finish editing this piece. I hope you enjoy :D (all of those steamy photos of hangman in my for you tab have been getting to me 😤🤤)

The warmth of the summer breeze rushed through a patch of long wispy grass in a way that was calming and familiar. The ocean, a colour composed of a variety of blues, was calmer than usual today, the waves rolling in like clouds in the night; quietly and gracefully.

Jake Seresin, the man you had been seeing for the past little while, invited you out for a day on the beach. Usually, the San Diego beach in the heat of August wasn't something you were fond of. It was nearly impossible to find a spot in the sand with any privacy on the beach where little children and seagulls alike weren't scavenging through your tote for juice boxes and cookies. However, dating a man in the navy had its perks; there was a private 'on base' beach that members and their families and friends could use, any time they wanted.

it was mid afternoon, about three or four, when you drove up to Hangman's uniformly neat base condo. The sun hung low in the sky and filled the air with its usual tone composed of pinks and blues and tangerine. San Diego sky's were your favourite. You parked your red Toyota in front of the lawn, and walked to the front door, tote bag in hand.

You rang the bell, and noticed your reflection in the glass of the screen door. The fuchsia bikini that you had on was one of your favourite swimsuits. The colour was flattering with both your complexion and your curves. It had a scoop neck with a small keyhole in the centre, revealing a hint of your chest. Atop of your swimsuit, you were wearing an airy white linen top - after all you were on a navy base and wanted to look somewhat presentable. And on your waist, over your matching pink bottoms was a pair of simple denim shorts. And by the time you finished admiring your outfit in the glass, there he was, hangman, grinning at you from the doorframe.

"Wow," he said, putting a hand around your waist, pulling you close, "I didn't know I loved the colour pink so much."

You rolled your eyes in a playful manner and planted a gentle kiss on your boyfriends cheek. "You all ready to go?"

Jake nodded, stepping out into the porch, putting on the pair of aviators that he so carelessly loved. Grabbing a small cooler - filled of beer and doritos no doubt- and closing the door behind him. And in a tone that was more hushed, Jake said, "might have to take that thing off of you later."

You gave your boyfriend a slap on the arm and smirked, "in your dreams hangman."

From Hangman's near seaside apartment, it only took about five minutes until the two of you were seated comfortably on the blanket that you had brought. The sun was brightly shining above and your toes were in the sand. There were a couple of other people on the beach; a family of four, a couple, and people by themselves, suntanning against the backdrop of the sand. Overall, it was pretty private. Not too loud, but not too quiet either. Perfect.

Seated on the blanket, your wavy hair blowing in the wind, Jake opened the cooler, revealing a six pack of vodka coolers and copper-toned beer bottles. "Want anything hon?"

"I'll take a beer," you said, slipping out of your denim shorts, and quickly covering your legs with them bottom hem of your linen shirt.

"Thats my girl," he said, handing you the bottle.

The two of you lay out in the sun, talking and laughing, and enjoying your drinks. This was relaxing and very unlike any date you had ever been on with Jake. Generally, your dates involved a loud bar or some sort of activity you usually wouldn't do, like karaoke singing or axe throwing. It was definitely a change of pace to have some leisure time with Hangman, but it was actually quite nice to simply just relax beneath the sun with him at your side.

However, after laying out for nearly thirty minutes, it began to feel a bit too hot for you. Your boyfriend, who was somehow asleep, didn't stir when you whispered his name, I guess it would be a solo swim. You took off the remainder of your accessories, like your sunglasses and woven bracelet, Birkenstocks, and white linen shirt and began a leisurely walk out to the ocean.

The bay was calm, the waves tricking in against your legs as you began to wade slowly into the water, kicking about the waves as they rolled in. The water was colder than you had thought, but it felt refreshing compared to how the sun was baking down onto your skin moments ago.

You swam around until you were cool enough, splashing in the waves, letting the salty water refresh you, until you were almost too cold.

The walk out of the ocean was never as glamorous as the walk in. Your hair, which had been perfectly blown out in a wavy pattern, was now darker and clung together in a way that was not luxurious. Your swimsuit didn't have the same pink shimmer to it as it did before, but soon enough the sun would dry you off and all would be as it was.

Back at the blanket, you had nearly dried off when Jake had finally woken up, grinning up at you. "How was the water?" he asked, shedding his sunglasses.

You folded up the magazine you had been reading, "it was great," you replied, "you looked so relaxed, I didn't want to wake you."

On your stomach, you took the liberty to lean atop of your boyfriend, planting a trail of kisses up the back of his palm, up his forearm, and up to his bicep. Jake's lips, taught in their usual smirk grinned through the process. "And to what do I owe this surprise?" he said as he propped himself up on his arms, his biceps firm, and the muscles of his chest flexing in the act.

You crawled forward, until you were laying nearly atop of your boyfriend. Looking down at him, you took a moment to admire really how gorgeous he was, with his long lashes, his oceanic green eyes, and his somehow perfectly angled jaw. Jake Seresin was here, in front of you, and very very hot. You smiled, and then kissed him gently on the bow of his lips.

The kiss tasted like summer air and a forbidden lust that seemed just out of reach. The kiss was gentle and slow, the kind that was suitable to a lazy day at the beach. But as soon as the waves broke upon the shore, Jake's tongue found its way into your mouth as his hand curled around your waist in a corresponding manner. The kiss got deeper as all you could hear was the sound of the ocean in your ears; the waves and the wind and the birds that flew above the nearby sea.

Noticing how unconfroable you back must feel from literally leaning over him, Jake did the singlee handledly hottest thing imaginable. He proped himself up on his right arm - just a bit more than before - and gently rolled you over onto you back, all while still immersed in the kiss.

Breaking the kiss, Jake, who was now on top, looked down at you, grinning, "god," he sighed, "your beautiful," right before he resumed the hot and gentle kissing pattern.

And beneath the kiss, while you smiled to yourself, Jake's hand found its way to your side, gently trailing itself up the side of your ribcage until the tips of his fingers brushed gently against the underside of your breast. "Is this okay?" he mumbled in-between kisses.

You nodded, "yes," and brought your hands around his torso and began to gently rub his muscular back.

Jake let the kiss linger into something slow and sweet as his hand trailed across your chest. Breaking the kiss, his mouth coming close to your ear, he whispered gently, "we better go back to mine before we get kicked off the beach."

You smirked, kissing him once before he rose to his feet, waisting no time in the act. "Lets see how long it takes us to get back there," you said, slipping on your sandals.

Jake grinned, "race you there."

And off in the heat of the mid-afternoon San Diego sun, you and Jake were running down the beach, back to his condo, the wind in your hair and the love in your hearts.

#jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x y/n #jake hangman seresin #hangman #hangman x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #tgm #hangman seresin #beach #top gun maverick x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman oneshot #hangman imagine #all of those pics of jake that keep popping up in my for you page have been getting to me 😮‍💨 #Certified hottie

[s-i-n-i-s-i-n]

Carmen Sandiego

Outfit Ranking. Season 1

Here is Part 2

Here is my very own ranking for Carmen Sandiego outfits in season 1.

I feel it is necessary to mention that she is so fucking hot and wicked-awesome that she looks amazing in everything. She would look beautiful in a potato sack.

Warning: this is a long post that may contain my bad resolution images and poorly made gifs.

13. Gray Vile Uniform.

It is weird that having Countess Cleo on the very faculty, the students' uniforms are so ugly. 0/10 Ugly crap. Even the cleaners look better.

12. Dark Vile Uniform.

It is an upgrade. Still not very stylish. Kinda neutral, but at least black and green get along fine enough. But it is a uniform... her personality doesn't shine through this one.

11. Overalls.

She still hasn't grown into her own style but at least I believe it is a personal choice. And green is so not her color.

10. Lab Coat.

She looks so sexy with glasses. She looks classy and smart. But at the end of the day, it is just a lab coat. We know she can rock anything she puts on, but there is no much effort in this, since it is a disguise, a quite simple one at that. Still, baby you look great!

9. The jammies!

So cozy. We get a glimpse at her everyday life. Still very practical and very red. She seems to wear her make up to bed and leave her clothes on the floor.

We are not only seeing a superthief here, but a beautiful woman that just woke up... literally.

8. Diver suit.

Red, red all over. Completely in character. It is obvious the effort in making this piece useful efficient and stylish all in one. Probably one of Ivy's best works.

7. Duchess disguise.

How did Devineaux didn't recognize that beautiful gray eye! Black suits her just fine. Mysterious and fancy. Shows her figure well and the pantsuit compliments her nice strong legs. Looks good with straight hair (that's the only straight thing that suits her).

You can see here she likes chokers. They are part of most of her outfits.

6. Denim shorts.

Wow talking about nice strong legs! Girl you're just showing off. Don't blame you, keep it up. Sporty look here appropriate for the weather. How can she make a short and a t-shirt look so good is beyond me.

With a matching hoodie when it gets cold.

5. Bikini.

Sadly we could not get a good look at this piece. She was on a bad mood at that particular time and didn't want to get off the chair. Too much sun, she said I've had enough tropical beach to last me a lifetime, she said.

Despite how awesome she probably looks in this swimsuit, I think it does not deserve to be in the top 3.

We know she likes wide hats :)

4. Auction Dress.

Hot hot hot hot! Oh boy it's burning baby! No words for this. My brain just melted when I saw her in this dress for the first time. Red and gold combine so well.

The gloves! so elegant!!!

Did you see her back?! asdjkwashgdfhf!!!! Also I told you she likes chokers.

Bonus! We get a closer look at her shoes! And so does Devineaux :)

Now the next is the Top 3. I believe the next ones really look good on her. Not only because she looks pretty but also because it shows her personality. She feels so confident and comfortable wearing them that she puts them on regularly. Therefore it may not be a surprise they are the top 3.

But before that, the 3 honorable mentions.

Honorable mention # 1.

A cute dress for a cute girl.

Honorable mention #2.

Olé!

Honorable mention #3.

Black sheep.

3. Mumbai outfit.

She wears this the first time in Mumbai. Where she meets Jules. Perfect for hot weather. Nice and casual. Little red belt and unavoidable chocker. Love it. I don't know what else to tell you. Simply fabulous.

She is just so unbelievably cool.

2. The RED COAT.

This is the most recognizable of all. The signature. The trademark. This one is what earns her the nick names. La femme rouge! The crimson ghost! Fedora the explorah!

The agility, the sneakiness, the skillfulness!

This coat represents the path she chose. This is the person she has become. Where the world is in danger of loosing its history she's made her mission to preserve it.

Iconic. Just iconic.

So resourceful! She makes me weak in the knees.

NUMBER 1.

Red Hoodie.

Where the Red Coat dresses the thief, the Red Hoodie warms up the woman. This is Carmen, the girl in her comfy everyday clothes. If she had had a normal life, this is what she would wear.

You know that shirt that you barely take off? The one pair of pants that you wear so often it gets holes at the knees? This is it for Carmen.

This is what she feels most comfortable wearing on a daily basis. It is my opinion that this is the more genuine expression of Carmen Sandiego when it comes to clothes. And for that I give this outfit the first place.

Gorgeous!

Thank you for coming!

Here is Part 2

#Carmen Sandiego 2019 #Carmen Sandiego season 1 #I'm just a sucker for her #simping #simpin hard #absolutely infatuated #Carmen Sandiego #ay carmencita!

[n3ptoonz]

'The After Party'

Pairing: Kung Lao/F!Dancer!Reader

Fandom: Mortal kombat 1 (2023)

Warnings/tags: SMUTTY!! Explicit!!! Reader is straight up a woman here, wears heels and skirts and bralettes, reader is a stripper, creampie, cunnilingus, cum on face, dry humping, Kung Lao is submissive and reader is dominant, half proofread, reader needed this fr, she her pronouns used and he calls reader gorgeous

Word count: 1.9k+

Explicit content below the cut

'You always come to the parties...To pluck the feathers off all the birds.'

The way you moved was mesmerizing to Kung Lao. You were the only dancer here that interested him, truly. Your moves were captivating; the technique and clear thought behind them was what he liked the most compared to the others.

'You always come to the parties...'

You noticed that he's been a regular for the last month since he discovered this place. And honestly, even though you've never really interacted other than monetarily, he's starting to become your favorite customer. The most you've said to each other was a "Thank you" and him always responding with "Anytime." You didn't even know his name--or most of your customers for that matter--but that didn't bother him.

He didn't have to be the highest paying to get your attention. Rather...he seemed to differ from other men that come and go. Appearance wise and his overall demeanor. From his stylish hats to the fact that he didn't walk into the building wearing a tux and thinking he was the man. He was simple and respectful.

'Ride, ride'

After your fourth set, you approached him again for the second round with your waist band that was already full of money and he stood up this time to add his share. He leaned closer to your ear so you could hear him better over the loud instrumental in the club.

"Will you be here for the after party?" he asked, backing up to see if you heard him. If you had a penny for every time you've been asked that question, you'd be shaking ass on a yacht in Italy.

"Sir, the dancers cannot have sex on the job." you promptly said, your facial expression being neutral as possible. He was taken aback by your statement, he just wanted to see you again, maybe even have a chat. He knew you were just reciting club rules, but damn! He thought.

"That's not- I meant it as I'd like a private dance if you'll be here. I'm also well aware of this rule. Do you think so lowly of me?" he joked, crossing his arms and smiling. With how dark the setting was in this building, his smile lit up this part of the room. Wow, he has dimples too!

He wore a denim vest over top of an armless sweatshirt that was showing off his muscles and he was surely making it work, put together with a simple pair of jeans. His playfulness did make you laugh though, and it made you want to explore his personality more. Many of the guys here bland as hell and only cared about getting off to women who would never give them a chance.

"Alright, alright, my apologies. I will be here, yes, but unfortunately the private dances are being postponed due to an incident from last week with another dancer. Instead we'll be serving while dancing."

Kung Lao frowned a bit at the news. He really was looking forward to just being with you even for a short moment. He immediately assumed the incident had to have something to do with you straight up telling him there was no sex allowed here. However...that's when an idea sparked in his head.

"Okay...could I see you after work then?"

You haven't been asked that question since you started working here, but it was always from slime balls that were the least bit of your interest. But like you thought...he was different.

'On your knees...'

He saw you actually considering it with the way your face contorted. "I see you're thinking about it." he said as he leaned down since the music was still bumping.

"Why yes...I am, sir." you gave him a teasing look. You were half in work mode and half being yourself; you truly wondered what it would be like to make his wish your command. Maybe even the other way around the way he was looking at you.

He shook his head and waved his hands at your formalities, "No need to call me sir if we're getting to know each other. My name is-"

--

"Kung Lao~" you sang his name, gripping onto his shoulders as you dry humped his thigh like your life depended on it. His hands hung by his sides and he just sat in one of the lounge chairs in your appointed dressing room. One of the main rules in any strip club was that you couldn't touch the dancers. So there he sat, under your control with his head thrown back in pure bliss.

The more you moved, the more you could feel his print peeking through his pants. He was panting like a dog and on the verge of passing out he felt so damn good. Honestly, he could cum from the friction alone, but he was secretly hoping he wouldn't like this. He'd rather on...or in you...

You pulled his head up to look at you. What you saw was what was once a smiley man with a bit of playful arrogance. A man that had the utmost respect for you and what you did for a living, turned into a boy-toy for your pleasure. What he saw was a beautiful woman looking at him like he was a piece of meat, and you were a lioness who captured her prey.

"You wanna fuck me, don't you? Be inside me?" you asked in a whisper, slowing your pace down which lead to him whining and squeezing his thighs together. The most he could do is nod and give a weak "Mhm..."

His hands began to tremble right as you pulled him free and quickly started riding him. It's been so long and he filled you so good, seeing the pride already leaving his body was turning you on even more. You both cursed and moaned in unison at the feeling of each other.

It was already the feeling of your walls wrapping around him like no other, but also your mini skirt that was hiked up past your ass. The second he looked down he was greeted by it bouncing along, only making him harder. Not to mention your breasts that threatened to fall out of the bralette you had on from your previous performance.

"You're drooling. Haven't had sex like this before, have you?" you asked, not slowing your pace in the slightest. You had a smug attitude just as bad as his, and he fucking loved that shit.

"Agh...can I please touch you? I...I might lose my mind." he muttered, unable to focus on anything else.

"You can touch me if you cum in the next minute, how about that?" you replied, making it sound like it was an impossible task. But you haven't really met Kung Lao. The man with a plan and will get the job done when needed.

He was a man who never backed down from a challenge. He's the type of guy to always pick dare and wants the absolute craziest thing someone can think of. Now pair that competitiveness with the hottest woman he has ever seen riding him and talking to him with a sweet sensual voice.

He came.

What was that? Had to be like 20 seconds after you said that and it's the last thing you expected. You didn't anticipate him shooting inside and so quickly. His eyes were shut tight and sweat beaded on his forehead; he was out of breath.

His blurry eyes could only look up at the ceiling, "Am I allowed to now?" he said, his arrogance returning behind his tone and smirk.

You laugh softly, slowly getting up from his lap and grabbing his hand, "Sure you can, but you'll be cleaning this up."

You lead him to the small couch in front of your full body mirror and sat on the cushion after putting a towel on it, pulling him down to his knees in front you. You ran your fingers through his loose hair. He knew exactly where this was going.

With not another word uttered, he lowered himself further, grabbing your thighs and pulling you forward to the edge. A gasp and chuckle came from you at the eagerness he had. The hunger in his eyes alone was turning you into a waterfall.

The glistening sight of his cum slowly dripping out of you easily made him feel like he was drunk. He pushed your legs farther apart and delved in like a man starved. Your hand practically flew to his head as your head flew back into the soft couch pillow. The flesh of your thighs spilled in between his fingers, just how he liked it.

"Oh my God..." you breathed out. He was already fully determined to eat you out with everything he had, but he absolutely positively needed you to cum on his face. Another thing you didn't know about him, he was a giver.

He may have been full of himself at times, prideful, and smug. But nothing fueled him more than being able to have bragging rights. I can see it now: he's feeling like he won a gold medal simply because you came from his tongue.

The pace at which he lapped at you made your legs all tingly, prompting you to close your thighs around his head. Watch out, because he might just cum again!

You whined and writhed above him, biting your lip to not give him too much fuel. You still had to remind him that he was the one wrapped around your finger.

He winced and hummed against your skin from you gently digging your heel into his back. The vibration from the top of his nose made you jolt a little, and now here came that growing feeling in your stomach.

"Hmm...yeah, keep going." he murmured against you, encouraging you to leave marks all over his back. Your breaths became quicker as your back arched. The heels of your black pumps clawing at the flesh of his back was just enough to make him go faster than before.

"Oh fuck, Kung Lao-" you moaned his name, gasping the closer you got.

"Let it go, gorgeous."

Finally you let loose, all over his face like he intended. He soothed you through your high as he didn't stop or slow down. The grip you had on his hair gradually lifted--needing to grab and hold onto the armchairs for leverage. Your entire body convulsed in pleasure and your hushed moans got louder.

As you both calmed down, you picked up something to fan yourself while Kung Lao kissed the inside of your thighs. He was mindful not to leave marks in consideration of your job even if he really, really wanted to. He lifted his head and kissed your stomach, smiling up at you with those pretty dimples of his.

"I haven't felt that good in so...fucking long." you said. When you looked down at him he had a big stupid grin on his face, not even bothering to wipe his face yet. You playfully rolled your eyes and took the towel from under you to fold it in half and wipe it for him.

"If this is what happens at after parties, I'm gonna have start coming here more often." he joked, but at the same time dead ass serious.

"Oh no, next time will not be happening at my place of work. I could get fired at this rate!"

You swear you could see his ears perk at the thought and confirmation that you enjoyed this so much to ensure a next time.

"Fine by me!"

a/n: TWO POSTS IN ONE DAY OOHHHHHHH i told y'all i would post that fic today 😝 i fucking enjoyed every last minute of writing this (even if it took like three weeks LMAOO)

#n3ptoonz #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat #kung lao #smut #mk smut #mk1 kung lao #kung lao x reader #mk kung lao

[madxyy]

anything for munson pt.2 - eddie munson x fem!reader

| summary: eddie takes you out on a date...and more ;)

| warnings: smut, use of pet names, cussing, unprotected p in v (please practice safe sex kids), praise kink, possessive kink?, banter, eddie still being a menace, CHEESY, bantering, unrealistic orgasm

a/n: i tried not to describe hair, also tysm for sm love on pt.1 mwa

Standing in front of the mirror, you adjust the straps of your overalls. Your eyes raked over your figure as you took into account what you were wearing, a white plain t-shirt underneath the denim material, cherry chapstick adorned on your lips, giving it a tint of red. You hummed in approval.

You and Eddie decided to just stay in and cook dinner (although ‘dinner’ might not be the word you’re looking for). He insisted "a queen like you needs a fancy dinner and luxury", but you told him you didn’t want anything that big, just spending time with him is enough. You’ll always remember the way his cheeks blushed when you said that.

 A honk coming from outside made you jump. You got your bag and speed walked to the front door. Opening the door, you stand on your front porch and lo and behold you see eddie munson, standing outside of his van looking handsome as ever, hands behind his back, washed up blue jeans settled on his hips, a cropped black metallica t-shirt, and black boots. 

His whole face lights up as he sees you. 

Coming down the steps, he wolf whistles, “damn baby, might I say you are looking very very hot this fine night, like come and plant vegetables at my farm.” You lightly punch him in the arm as you giggle “oh my god! you are so stupid”, he pulls you by the waist and you instinctively put your hands on his chest “stupid for you.” 

Rolling your eyes “ookay stop being cheesy”

“never” giving you a radiant smile, god he’s so beautiful 

You both stood there for 10 seconds just taking in each other's presence. As much as you would like to stand there and gaze at him , you had a date to go to. “Alright, alright, let’s go munson, we can’t stand here all day looking at each other”, he puffs out a breath

“why not? It’s basically looking at art, so we are basically at an art museum” you shake your head as you smile “you promised me a date munson.” He sighs but reluctantly releases the grip he had on your waist and opens the door for you, “my lady” he bows, you roll your eyes god I love him. After settling into the passenger seat, he closes the door and gallops–yes, gallops–to the other door.

 He looks at you, giving you a beaming smile “are you ready for the most mind blowing sex.” You bark out a laugh “eddie I swear to god i’m going to get out this van” fingers already curled on the handle. 

“No no i’m just kidding sweetheart, I’ll stop” 

You give him a look

“No you’re not.” 

A guilty smile slowly creeping its way onto his lips “you’re right.”

Let’s just say the whole car ride consisted of banter and scolding, once when eddie almost ran a red light, then again when the cars behind him were honking because he was too distracted looking at you, after hearing all the honkings you turn to him telling him to keep his eyes on the road and that resulted to him blaming you. You turned to him, jaw on the ground, eyes bulged out, “what do you mean that was MY fault?!” he rolls his eyes “listen babe, if you didn’t look so damn beautiful in green lighting we wouldn’t be in this predicament” he said matter-of-factly.

“As soon as we get out of this car, i’m going to literally strangle you munson”

You can already see the gears in his head forming an inappropriate joke from a mile away. His mouth started to open but was quickly interrupted “don’t you dare say it eddie”, he closed his mouth but a smirk still on his face. 

“Wow, you’re just cruel y’know that, like why don’t you like me for me? How come I can never be myself?” 

“I’m literally on a date with you and please for the love of god don’t start this, you have been saying this ever since I took the last pizza slice and that was 2 years ago”

“Still.”

As soon as you arrived at his trailer, he rushed over to your side and opened the door, “can’t have a goddess waiting”, he offered his hand, you accepted and stepped out the van “why thank you, my dear lord.” He grins.

Stepping into the familiar trailer, you get flashed backs of the last visit here–a very pleasant visit–eddies lips, the taste of liquor still etched on your lips, his rough hands on your hips, messy kisses as your clothed folds started rubbing against his thighs, back and forth, back and forth, rough palms cupping your cheeks, eddie breathlessly murmuring–”baby?”, blinking out of your daze, you realized how damp your underwear has become - shit it’s the beginning of your date. Get it together. Clearing your throat “yeah, sorry”, he chuckled, “it’s okay, I just asked what type of flavor do you want”, you think for a second “mmm chicken is sounding really good right now.” He gives you an approving nod “I'm glad I chose a woman with basic taste.” You scoff “oookaaaay buddy, i’m literally dating you” he shoots you a look that makes you bark out the most horrendous laugh “ha ha ha, so funny, I take that as a compliment, you are just basically calling me spicy”. The sounds of your laughter automatically come to a stop as soon as the word ‘spicy’ leaves his mouth.

“Why must you always ruin my fun” 

“Because ruining your fun is my fun” 

You cross your arms and pout at him, he chuckles as he gives you an affectionate smile, “i’m just kidding baby, c’mere” he says opening his arms for you. You sigh and drag your feet to the him, “I don’t know why I have to go over there, you should be coming to me” midway of saying that you were already hugging him, face squished into his chest, arms circled around his back as his hands come up from his side to grasp your chin, angling your head to look at him “you weren’t putting up a fight nor are you complaining at the moment.” Narrowing your eyes, “whatever, let’s just make this already, i’m hungry.” He smiles in triumph as he finally won “of course my queen”, you step in front of the stove; packets of ramen open and sitting patiently to be boiled, the pot already filled with water, lime and packets of chicken flavor also idly sitting by the side. Eddie turns the handle “now we shall wait”. You hum, 

“in the meantime,” looking up at him

“we should put on some music”

“fine but only if I get to pick the songs” 

He makes a dramatic sigh “listen babe, no hate, you are a true angel from heaven, seriously, but you listen to music that makes me fall asleep and I seriously can’t handle it” 

“pleaseee” batting your lashes as you smile innocently

Pursing his lips “that’s not fair”

Still smiling up at him while awaiting his answer “FINE!” you squeal and run off to his room to put on music that sure as hell will make his ears bleed. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as soon as he heard the trailer humming with Al Green’s voice. But it was bearable as soon as he heard your voice sing along with it too even if it was bad singing--but he won't admit that, “I’M SO IN LOVE WITH YOU”, shaking his head “stop torturing me”, ignoring what he said, you decided to make a whole performance and grab the closest thing shaped as a microphone–which was a small silver spoon–and started swaying your hips to the beat. “‘CAUSE YOU MAKE FEEL SO BRAND NEEEEWW.” He bit his lips as his eyes were focused on you and solely on you–although since it’s Eddie, he can’t help but be a little shit.

”Why must you do this to me? make it stop, my ears are ringing, oh my god, i can already feel the blood” 

“oh my god! stop being a baby and come dance with me”

“nah i’m good”

“oh come on munson, just one dance and you can go back to sulking”

Still not budging from his spot, you dance towards him, hips swaying to the tempo of the song. He’s already frantically shaking his head as you get closer, but you don’t care as your hands reach out towards him, grabbing hold of his shoulders, his folded arms naturally goes towards your waist. As you hum the song he looks down at you with an amused smile.

“Stop being stiff eddie and move those hips of yours”, he chuckles 

“Fine, but only because I know how badly you want to see these hips move”

You shake your head in disapproval “whatever you say”

His hips starts swaying with yours as you both moved smoothly to the music. 

“Wow, who knew you can move your hips”,

“I've been telling you”

Swaying in each other's arms, you look up at him with captivating eyes, “y’know you’re really handsome eds” he softly smiles down at you, “you’re not so bad yourself my love.” Just looking at him makes your heart pound rapidly against your chest. 

Soon enough, one of his hands comes up and grasps your chin, delicately stroking the soft flesh. The pad of his fingers slowly makes its way to your lips, tracing and tugging down at the plump skin. Shallow breaths hit his hands, “eddie...” you say horsley. His Index finger slowly pushing its way into your mouth, you swirl your tongue around his digit making a whole show for him as you stare directly into his eyes. Grabbing a hold of his wrist, you suck back and forward, batting eyelashes looking up at him. “Fuck” he exhales, you detach your lips with a ‘pop’. You clean up after yourself as the pad of your fingers glides underneath your lips, taking off the excess of saliva. “Come on munson, the food shan’t wait anymore”, you giggle silently to yourself as he stands there frozen, mouth agape, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, breathing heavily,“baby wha-“. With a smirk displayed on your lips, you quickly pull yourself back—before he has a chance to do or say anything—and put the ramen into the boiling water. 

As you start mixing the noodles you feel a warmth pressing to your back, eddie stands behind you, needy hands reaching underneath the blue denim to sprawl across your stomach as he plants sweet kisses to your neck, lightly pushing at his head “eddie i’m hungry” you whine. But he doesn’t buy it. He chuckles dryly, paying you no mind as he removes one of his hands to drag down one of your straps, slowly, painfully slow. He leaves a messy kiss on the new exposed skin, “baby, don’t act innocent now,” electricity sent straight to your spine, “sh-shut up cmon-”. You hear a ‘tink’ and are quickly turned around by eddie, breathless “eddie what are you doi-”, a muffled whine coming out as his lips pressed to yours, quickly pulling back, “eds, what about the food?” you say breathlessly (like you actually care about the food). 

He smirks at you with lust filled eyes, pulling you by the nape until you can feel his breath hitting your lips, “baby, quite frankly that’s not what i’m hungry for, so how about you shut up and I make you feel good, hm?”, not even having a chance to respond, he crashes his lips to yours. His body pushing yours against the stove, hands tangled in his hair in an instant, pulling him closer, harder against your lips as the smell of tobacco and sandalwood overtakes you. It was like heaven to both of y'all, especially eddie, he wanted to kiss you ever since that saturday night, god he couldn’t get enough, he needed more, he needed you. 

Lips still colliding, he crouches down and shortly enough, you feel rough palms grab a hold the back of your thighs, “up” he demanded. You happily obliged. 

He picks you up and walks you down the hall to his room, feet kicking the door shut. Softly laying you down on his bed, he stands and he can’t help but take the sight of you in, flushed cheeks, droopy eyelids staring back at him with dazed eyes, parted lips. “Babe, are you going to stand there all day or are you going to fuck me, hm?.” Blinking rapidly out of his haze, “uh ye-yeah,” clearing his throat  

“damn give a man a chance to appreciate the beauty in life, okay” 

“Whatever, just get over here”

Making a salute, “aye-aye whatever you say, my queen,”

Shaking your head you softly whisper to yourself “stupid” 

Eddie was too busy taking off his shirt and disregarding it on the floor to pay attention to what you were saying–thank god, he would’ve made a whole scene. But now it was your turn to take him in for all his glory, curls ruffled everywhere, cheeks also flushed, tattoos that you can’t wait to put your lips on, kissing each of them, one by one. 

“Babe, are you going to sit there all day or are you going to let me fuck you, hm?” 

“Damn give a woman a chance to appreciate the beauty in life, okay” you retort his words back to him

The corner of his mouth lifts. 

Making his way back to the bed ended abruptly as the palm of your hand made contact with his abdomen, nails lightly scratching at the happy trail that disappears underneath his washed up blue jeans. You look up at him with the most beautiful bedroom eyes, “you forgot one thing” you whispered. He couldn’t move, it’s like he was glued to the floor.

 He was going to say something, literally anything but all his thoughts vanished as soon as he saw the mischievous smile you’re giving him. You kept eye contact with him as your hands unbuttoned the jeans, pulling the zipper down. Your hands brush against his clothed bulge. He sharply inhales at the contact. Pants disregarded to the floor. You push yourself back up the bed and eddie quickly follows after you. 

As your lips meet again, he could taste the sweetness of your lips, the cherry chapstick you always wear that he always loved. He could smell your perfume, a mixture of you and him that made his head swim. The warmth of your body pressed against his had him shivering. Hands everywhere, legs arched beside him, one of his hands cradling your face as the other one is attached to your hip. His clothed erection grinding against you “shit” he panted. “Baby you need to take everything off right. now.” Say no more. Unfortunately, you lightly push him off. Missing his warmth as both of your clothes now are forgotten somewhere in his room. 

Eddie couldn’t believe his eyes, a true fucking art piece oh my god, he thought to himself. There you were, left in nothing but your bra and underwear, staring at him. 

You smile shyly at him, “wh- what, do i have something on me” he doesn’t miss a beat as he shakes his head. “No no it’s just,” nervous eyes looking back at him, he sighs “you have” he kisses your knee “no idea” then your belly “how beautiful” and finally your lips “you are.” You were left breathless and the only thoughts were to bring him down and crash your lips together. 

The tips of his fingers make their way to the clasp, sending goosebumps up your back “may I?” you smile “of course”, He quickly unhooks your bra. “There’s my girls” your feet pushed at his torso, but he grabbed your ankle and pulled it back where it was beside him as he kissed on the valley in between your breasts, basically making you putty in his hands. 

You let out a soft sigh and let your head fall back as he starts biting and sucking on the pink flesh. While the other hand kneeds and twists the bud with his thumb and index finger. “Eddie….please” you whine as you squirm under his touch. With a loud ‘pop’ he removes his mouth from your nipple, your buds hardening by the cool air. He looks up at you with the most beautiful lust blown eyes. 

You whine at the loss of contact. “I know baby, I know…” softly pecking underneath your belly button. He leaves a trail of kisses until he reaches the elastic of your underwear. He pauses and looks up at you. You give him an affirming nod, he gazes lovingly at you as he tugs down the cotton material down your legs. 

His mouth waters at the sight of you, completely bare underneath him. Eddie attacks your lips, sighing into the kiss a little too loudly. His hands wander everywhere on your body, he practically moans at the feeling of your skin on his. Your hands are tangled in his hair again. Legs arched up beside him. He starts to kiss down your body but you quickly pull him back to your lips.

“Let me eat you out”

You shake your head with a smug smile. He whines.

“Come on baby, let me just- let me get you ready”

“No, I just want to feel you eds.” you say bravely.

The total and selfish truth is he wanted to eat you out since he picked you up and saw you in those overalls. Thighs on display, thighs he wanted spread over his shoulders as he buried himself into you, kissing and licking the places you needed him the most as his thumbs ran soothingly over the skin. fuck

“Fine,” he says  “Fuck fine!” he presses a kiss to your cheek.

He hovers over you, long hair tickling the sides of your face. 

Eddie looked you deep in the eyes as his hands reached between you both, he ran the tip of his cock between your folds, you both shivering at the feeling. Hands clutching harder at his hair. “Are you sure you still wanna do this sweetheart?” He searches your eyes for any doubts. You gaze up at him oh-so-lovingly that it makes his heart stop. These moments of you just looking up at him, reassuring him always makes him realize how much he would love to spend an eternity just bickering with you over stupid things, how lucky he is that he’ll scream it from the rooftops–he really would. You give him a gentle smile “of course” you whispered. No doubts. 

Slowly he starts pushing himself into you. Both your mouth parts at the sensation. Eddie stills as his jaw tightens. Eyes fluttering closed for a moment at the feeling of being inside you. “Shit,” he groans. You push your heels to his back as an attempt to make him move. “Eds please I need more,” you whine “I need you.” He leans down and kisses you. His hands grab ahold your thighs, “me too baby, fuck-.” ​​He could feel your soft, warm body underneath him, and he caressed your thighs, while he slowly began to thrust inside of you. “You feel so good babe.” He groaned in your ear as his hips began moving more swiftly. Your nails dug into his skin moans slipping past your lips. 

“Fuck eddie.” You gasp out throwing your head back; he’s quick to lean and suck on your neck, his tongue trailing your warm skin.

Your skin felt like it was on fire every time he touched you but this time it was too much, you felt in a daze. Everything around you disappeared except for eddie, everything eddie eddie eddie. You were so engulfed in just him; his guitar pick that’s gliding against your chest as he thrusts in and out of you, his touch on your thighs making you feel dizzy, the vein that’s prodding out his neck, the sounds he’s making that’s just making you wetter. 

Your hands grapple for a better grip on his broad shoulders. Like he can tell what you’re asking for instead as one of his hands travel from the grip he had on your thighs to clasp atop yours. He tugs it off and presses it against the sheets beside your head, calloused fingers interlacing with yours.

You clutch at his hand, squeezing your intertwined hands together as Eddie goes faster, your moans egging him on. His face drops lowers, warm breath fanning over your face as his other hand tugs your hips back on his cock strongly. He strokes in. Your skin burns warm; back arching up as the nails of your free hands sinks into his back.

“My girl.” He practically coos in your ear. The thought of being his girl makes you mewl and adds more to your burning arousal as you clench around him. He whines. “Baby- nggh” He gathers the strength to muster up a dry laugh “If I knew you had a possessive kink, I would’ve said that a while ago- fuck me.”  Your face heats up a crimson.

“Eddie.” you mewl.

“I know I know” he murmurs. His hand squeezes yours as he gives you a particularly deep thrust, the head of his cock finding the spot inside that makes you squirm. Making your toes curl and the blood in your veins run cold; a long moan drags out your lips and you bury it into his skin. 

“Y’feel so good eds,” you cry softly. Your hips are moving without thought, meeting his thrusts and he moans brokenly when your cunt flutters around him. “You’re doing so good for me baby.” You praise him with a whimper.

Hips stuttering a bit at your words, and the strength to hold himself up falters, more of his weight pressing against you and you welcome it, legs tightening their grip around his waist.

“My girl, my girl, my gorgeous girl- fuck” he breathes out hotly against your neck “eddie please” you whine out. You don’t even know why you are saying please. Probably for him to stop saying “my” anything because you will definitely not last long or perhaps the overwhelmingness of him buried deep inside you, it’s all just too much. 

You bring your hands to the side of his face, getting him out the juncture of your neck. He looks so beautiful like this; his hair disheveled and wild, cheeks rosy, a slight sheen of sweat on his brow, button eyes staring back at you. The whole time his motions don’t slow the slightest, keeping the same pace as one of his hands messages your hips. “I love you.” 

Eddie’s cock twitches inside you, paired with a soft moan that Eddie buries into your neck. His thrusts speed up, chasing desperately as he whines, the noise pathetic and whimpery, and he grips your hand tighter. 

“Fuck, I love you too baby.” He says, sloppy kisses planted all over your neck, teeth scraping the now bruised spot, it sends electricity through your body, then he laughs “please tell me you’re close too.”

“I am,” you gasp, head nodding and eyes scrunching closed as the buzz of the heat expands inside you, thighs twitching and clenching around him tighter. “I am, baby, please.”

“C’mon sweetheart” he urges with a pant, voice strained and face wrecked. His other hand travels up, angling your face up so he can see your face and his nose nuzzles against yours. “I know you can do it. Y’gonna be my sweet girl and make a mess on my cock, yeah?”

His tone turns desperate, sticky with bliss “C’mon be sweet for me. Cum for me, baby, please.”

You tense up as his words hook into the coil of your stomach and tug, unraveling it and you with a soft cry. You arch and writhe as the ache in your cunt pulses so deliciously, pleasure flooding every nerve. Eddie fucks you through your own orgasm, as well as his own shortly after yours. 

He releases a desperate moan which dissolves into a kiss, soft lips scrapping yours. His hips move a bit slower, jerky motions, as he clenches your hand tightly. His forehead presses against your forehead “see, I told you, most. mind. blowing. sex. Better than all the sex dreams I had” voice raspy as he grins affectionately at you. 

You weekly push him off you. He lands next you with an oomph “why must you ruin every moment we have” you say lightheartedly. Eddie turns on his side as his arm anchors him up “can’t help it baby” his free hand glides underneath the covers and pulls you closer by the hips. “Of course you can’t.” 

The room now smelling of sex and filled with comfortable silence as you both lay next to each other in awe. Eddie - of course - breaks the silence “so,” a cheeky smile making its way onto his lips “you said you love me.” You purse your lips together trying to fight the smile as you meekly say “I did, yes.”

He smirks “I’m just surprised,” 

“Why?”

“Well, I for sure thought I was going to say it first, like- do you know the many times I almost blurted it out and said it?”

You shake your head giggling

“No baby, I'm so serious, it was really bad, there was that one time you had the flu and you coughed all over my jacket and you kept on apologizing but all I was thinking is how I can form the words “I love you”.”

The lovely response you were about to give to him was cut short as you were brought back to that memory and you gasp “wait- eddie, you jackass! You made me feel bad by giving me that ugly ass look the whole time and you said “ew.” ”

“Okay well you coughed up a loogie on me sweetheart, so sorry for reacting humanly”

You roll your eyes “when do you ever react humanly” 

“Well,” he kisses your interlocked hands “mostly with you, but I beg of you to not tell that little shit Henderson, he’ll be teasing me for weeks.”  

You smirk mischievously at him “and what if I did?” His gaze turns a familiar cold “now,” the hold he has on your hips tightens. “You wouldn’t do that,” He presses sloppy kisses to your neck as he hovers over you. Slowly he makes his way under the covers, kissing the inside of your thighs, bringing you and the sheets down. You whimper as Eddie’s nose grazes your already sensitive clit. He removes the covers from his head “would you baby?” Not being able to get a proper response out, “that’s what I thought.” He’s already making his way under the covers where he drags his tongue through your folds.

You still told dustin afterwards, shortly after though, you were “punished” with your fingers tugging Eddie's hair as he was buried in your thighs.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #smut #fluff #stranger things #stranger things fanfic

[jobean12-blog]

A Farmer’s Delight

Pairing: Bucky x reader (Farmer AU)

Word Count: 4,743

Summary: An ordinary Sunday morning runs turns into something much more extraordinary when you meet the Farmer down the road.  

Author’s Note: So a friend shared this tik tok with me a while back and it gave me an idea for farmer Bucky. Watch the tik tok here I definitely went a little silly and fun with this and of course NEVER go home with any man you just met in the woods or anywhere (unless he’s Bucky Barnes haha) but for real, stay safe! Thank you everyone so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by my sweet @firefly-graphics Thank you bunches Daisy!🥰

Warnings: Fun flirting, silliness, fluff, cute animals, flirting, tension, fingering, unprotected sex (don’t do that either), smut, implied oral (18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!)

Every pound of your foot against the dirt road is like a harsh squeeze to your overly full bladder. You silently curse yourself for not using the bathroom before you left for the run and then give your almost empty water bottle a dirty look.

When you’re sure one more step will have you peeing your pants you make an abrupt stop and search your surroundings…there has to be somewhere you can pee.

You notice a small clearing behind some short bushes. If you squat low enough you should be hidden from at least everyone coming from behind you on the path. Anyone running the other way, well, they might get a nice glimpse of your ass.

You gingerly walk over, worrying any jolting movement will be disastrous, and give the area one more check. It looks clear and the only sounds you hear are the rustling leaves in the light breeze.

You pull down your shorts and panties, squatting low and positioning yourself so you won’t get pee all over you.

When the flow starts you sigh in relief, the pressure in your lower abdomen subsiding with every passing second…and the seconds seem to tick on and on until you’re just about done.

And then you hear it.

The loud rush and stamping of what sounds like hundreds of feet, all coming toward you from, of course, the way that you’re exposed.

“Oh shit!” you mutter, struggling to push out the last drips and shake dry.

You frantically try to dry by waving your ass around as the noise gets louder and just as you peak over the bushes you see a stampede of goats galloping toward you. You’re so shocked that you nearly lose your footing and fall over.

You manage to pull up your panties and you’re just about to get your shorts over your ass when a loud and booming voice shouts from behind the goats.

And then you see him.

His dark hair is long enough to hang loose at his broad shoulders and the closer he gets you can see his muscled chest move and flex as he chases after the goats. The sight temporarily stuns you and it isn’t until he spots you still crouched behind the bushes that you let out a shriek and make a run for it, shorts still half on.

“Wait!” You hear his deep voice. “I’m not going to…”

Whatever he was going to say is muffled by the hard ground slamming into your body as you fall, the blood whooshing in your ears and your heart beating rapidly.

You scramble to your feet again, the sound of cracking branches and crunching leaves close behind you.

“Come on,” you urge yourself with a violent rush.

You hear him again. “Are you hurt?”

You realize he’s too close and you’ll never get away so you make a sudden turn on your heal and rush the man with all your strength. You collide with his hard body, hoping to throw him off so you can get away but instead he cushions you against him and you both fall down in a heap of tangled limbs.

“Fuck,” you hear him grunt. “Are you ok doll?”

His gentle touch is surprisingly soothing and you let out a shaky breath.

“I’m…I’m ok,” you say quietly, pressing your hand to his chest to sit up.

Your fingers meet warm skin, the collection of hair along his chest soft under your touch even as his hard muscles strain. You realize he’s wearing denim overalls and no shirt. The image makes you swallow hard against the dryness in your mouth, your eyes lingering on the expanse of his exposed skin.

“James Barnes,” he says with a lopsided smirk, holding out his hand. “But you can call me Bucky.”

“Are these your goats?” you ask, looking past him to see that you’re now surrounded by what seems like hundreds of goats. “Are you a farmer?”

“Uh…well yeah. They got out of their pen this morning and I found them running along the path,” Bucky explains before his eyes drop to your exposed panties.

You suck in a breath and scramble back, yanking your shorts up the rest of the way.

“Oh my god,” you whisper. “I cannot believe you saw me peeing!”

“Well, to be fair, I didn’t really, mostly just saw you running away with your pants down,” he chuckles. “Must have really had to go though. Peeing in the woods is dangerous. Poison ivy…bugs…rogue goats.”

You stare at him, finally taking a moment to look at his face.

A definite mistake.

His perfectly shaped eyes are lined with dark and long lashes and the ocean blue color sparkles in the sunlight. His chiseled jaw is lined with a dark beard, the little patches of gray sprinkled throughout adding to his rugged handsomeness. His lips are pink and plush and when he smiles again you feel a tingling down your spine.

His humor is lost on you, your current embarrassment and twinge of fear overpowering your senses.

“Shit, shit, shit,” you mutter, shaking yourself from your reverie. “How do you I know you aren’t going to kidnap me and kill me?”

“I’m not,” he states, clearly amused.

“And I’m just supposed to believe that! You saw my ass!”

“What’s that got to do with it doll?” he asks, holding out his hand to help you up after he stands. “It is quite nice though.”

You scoff and place your hand in his, squeaking when he lifts you to your feet with ease, the feel of his calloused fingertips sending a tremble through you.

“How many sheep do you have?” you ask as you survey the fluffy observers and ignore the heat of awareness at his touch.

“Oh, probably over two hundred. But this is only half of them. I like them to have a lot of open land so I keep them in two separate very large grazing areas.”

One of the sheep closest to you let’s out a loud and seemingly annoyed ‘baaaaaaaaaa.’

Bucky laughs and pats it’s head softly.

“Almost time to eat,” he says.

You start to walk back toward the path but when you put pressure on your left ankle you wince and cry out in pain.

Bucky immediately slides his arm around your waist and leans you against him.

“Hey now, easy there doll. Looks like you have a nasty sprain and your knee is all scratched up.”

The concern in his voice softens your features and you let yourself sag into his hold.

“I really am sorry,” he says quietly, his tone full of sincerity.

“It’s ok,” you sigh. “It’s not your fault. You were right. I shouldn’t be peeing in the woods by myself. I just had to go so bad.”

“I get it,” he answers, helping you hop back to the path. “How far are you from home?”

“A six-mile run and then a car drive!” you huff. “This is my first time running over here. I recently moved nearby and I usually just go around the neighborhood but needed a change of scenery.”

He nods in understanding.

“Well, you can’t run anywhere with your ankle,” he tsks. “But thankfully my house is just half a mile up the path there.”

He motions around the curve with a smile.

“Are you just going to take me there so you can tie me up in your basement.”

“Mm tempting,” he muses, his eyes bright with playful mischief. “But how about we go get you cleaned up and put some ice on that swelling.”

“Ok, ok,” you relent, giggling when he starts down the path and all of the sheep start to follow him.

“Look at them,” you say in wonder.

He stops to turn and glance behind him, the sheep halting the moment he does.

“Start walking again,” you say excitedly.

He takes a few more steps and the sheep start trotting again.

“Now stop,” you snort.

He stops and so do the sheep.

“Amazing,” you laugh. “They are so cute.”

“Thanks…” he trails off, looking at you expectantly.

“Oh right,” you mumble and introduce yourself.

“That’s a pretty name,” he says, repeating it. “I was about to call you sunshine…since ya know…”

“WHAT?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

“Your panties are that sunshiny yellow color…” he states, waggling his eyebrows.

“It’s a good thing you’re cute,” you mutter as you continue hobble along.

It’s surprising and slightly disconcerting how comfortable you feel in his arms but if the goats trust him…

The sound of the goats hurrying behind keeps you smiling despite the discomfort in your knee and ankle. When you reach a small path that turns off the main road you look ahead and see a beautiful farmhouse, complete with a large porch and wooden fence.

“Do you live here all alone?” you ask.

“Just me and the animals,” he replies. “A lot of them.”

The words are barely out of his mouth when a large white and fluffy dog comes bounding off the porch, barking loudly and tail wagging wildly.

“Winter!” Bucky commands and the dog slows as he approaches and sits.

“Good boy. Now be careful,” he instructs, calling the dog forward.

Winter inches closer, his butt wiggling with barely contained excitement, and gently nudges your hand.

“Oh, he’s SO CUTE!” you gush, petting him.  

Winter follows you and Bucky as you make your way past the fence and up the steps of the porch.

“Just wait here for me. Winter will stay with you,” Bucky says. “I’m going to get the goats back in their pen.”

“Ok,” you exhale, sitting gingerly on the porch swing.

Winter plops down and rests his head on your thigh.

“Such a good boy,” you coo, scratching behind his ears. “Your dad has to be a good guy…right?”

Winter’s brown eyes study you, soft and sweet.

Bucky returns and before you can stand he lifts you into his arms and carries you through the door to his house.

“Don’t people usually get married and then do that?” you giggle as he sets you down on the couch.

“Already planning our wedding?” he teases.

He walks into the kitchen, somehow managing to move his large body gracefully around, every so often glancing your way with a smile.

“Tea?” he asks. “Coffee?”

“Just water for now please,” you answer.

He comes back with a tray of snacks and a cold glass of water, setting it down on the coffee table before sitting on it and lifting your leg to rest on his knee.

“Sorry if this stings,” he whispers, patting your cut with disinfectant.

You suck your teeth but manage a smile when he gives you an apologetic look. Despite his obvious strength, his touch is delicate and he takes special care to clean your cut, apply antiseptic and cover it with a band aid.

“You’re all set,” he says, stroking his thumb over your thigh.

Your eyes fly to his and his gaze wanders over your face in an interested and appreciative way.  

“I have some ice for your ankle,” he says, clearing his throat. “Sit back.”

You push yourself back against the pillows and move your leg to rest along the couch. He grabs another pillow and sets a towel down with the ice pack then lays your foot atop it.

“Thank you,” you murmur, watching him intently.

“Of course,” he says, as if it isn’t bizarre to have a complete stranger in his house, strewn across his couch.

His gives you another boyish smirk and you have to will yourself to disregard the sudden heat in your lower belly.

“How long have you lived here?”

He stands and walks back to the kitchen, calling Winter to follow.

“I grew up in the city. Loved it but as I got older I realized I wanted something quieter so I sold my apartment, moved out here, bought this farm and well…here I am, almost ten years later,” he explains.

“It’s beautiful.”

As you say the words you look around the space, noting the calm colors and the cozy feel of the thoughtfully placed furniture.

“What about you?” he asks, placing Winter’s food bowl down.

“My story is pretty similar actually, minus the farm…and goats,” you giggle. “Just needed a change of scenery. I like it here.”

You share a sympathetic look before he blurts out, “what can I make you to eat?”

“You’re gonna feed me too?” you ask with raised brows.

“Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly if I didn’t, now would it?” he counters. “Besides, I’m always hungry.”

The hint of flirtatiousness in his voice leads to your next question.

“Did you just say something dirty to me?”

He throws his head back with laughter, pressing a hand to his chest before he settles with a shrug.

“Just stating the obvious. I love to eat.”

You let your eyes sweep over him approvingly. “I bet you do.”

“Now who’s flirting?” he fires back.

His study of you turns intense and you almost squirm on the couch.

“What were we talking about?” he asks, clearly distracted.

“Ummmmm…food!” you say, far too loudly.

“Right. Lunch! What can I get ya doll face?”

“Anything that’s easy is good,” you tell him.

He smiles and settles into the kitchen, pulling things from the cabinets and fridge. You let your eyes close for a few moments, relishing in the sound of the birds outside and the rustle of leaves in the wind.

Your eyes shoot open when something hits your lap and you let out a loud gasp, giggling when you see a white fluffy cat now seated on you.

“Hey there,” you say softly, scratching under her chin.

“I see you’ve met Alpine,” Bucky says, looking over. “She’s never getting up by the way.”

Alpine, seemingly aware of Bucky’s warning, kneads at your shirt before circling once and laying down in a round ball of fur.

“She’s beautiful. Like the cat version of Winter!”

“It is kind of funny how they look the same except Winter has the brown eyes and Alpine the blue. Both rescues,” he adds.

“Lucky them,” you say as the cat purrs contentedly in your lap.

“So, you don’t think I’m a serial killer anymore?” Bucky asks with a grin.

“Can’t be,” you answer with a yawn. “You wouldn’t have such sweet animals.”

He chuckles before carrying some plates past the couch and out the French doors at the far end of the large room. You try to sit up and see where he’s going but he’s lost from view.

When he returns your curiosity is written on your face and he explains, “back porch has a picnic table. It’s nice out so I figured we could sit there.”

He reaches for your hand and then wraps his arm around your waist to help you up. Alpine meows in annoyance but follows you out, Winter right behind.

The wooden picnic table is beautifully made and set with two plates and enough food fit for six.

“You weren’t kidding,” you mutter, taking in the spread.

“Nah doll. I’m a growing boy, need to eat,” he says, patting his stomach.

You scoff with a smile. “Says your six pack.”

“How do you know if I have a six pack?” he says, eyeing you playfully.

“Because of course you would. Look at the rest of you.”

“You’re welcome to look,” he croons, unbuckling one strap of his overalls.

He lets it fall just far enough that you get a peek at half his toned abs and the distinct V shape at his hip.

“That’s unfair,” you breathe out. “Might be eight.”

“Farming is hard work doll,” he states as he helps you sit and moves around to the other side of the table.

“Aren’t you going to buckle that back up?” you ask as your legs squeeze together under the table.

“Nah,” he answers as he serves you some food.

“Tease,” you mutter and look down at your plate. “Wow this looks good.”

He winks when you catch his eye again and the butterflies in your belly flutter to life.

“Fresh eggs from my chickens and the vegetables are from my garden.”

“You really are busy,” you mumble through a delicious mouth full. “And when did you learn to cook?”

You sit for a long time, talking and laughing and nibbling at the food, unaware as the day moves on and the sun starts it’s descent in the sky.

With a yawn and a stretch, you ask for the time, your eyes widening when he says it’s almost four pm.

“Shit,” you groan. “I have to get back to my car.”

“You can’t walk back,” Bucky states with a tone that leaves no room for argument.

“Then what am I going to do?” you ask, popping your shoulder with sass.

He laughs, giving you a challenging look.

“You’ll stay here until tomorrow. Then I’ll take you back to your car on the tractor.”

“Why can’t you do that now?”

“You can’t drive on that ankle; you need to rest more.”

“Are you a doctor now too?”

“Doll,” he warns, standing to gather the plates. “You’re staying. It’s the safest.”

“Staying in some man’s house that I just met is safe!” you argue even though it’s clear by your expression that you’re just busting his balls.

“We’ve already spent half the day together and don’t worry I don’t bite,” he simpers.

He grabs a few things and rounds the table, leaning down close to your ear, his warm breath caressing your skin when he whispers, “unless you want me to.”

You shiver at contact, digging your teeth into your bottom lip to keep your moan quiet.

“Smooth Bucky,” you joke, ogling his ass as he walks back into the house.

“We’ll see…” you hear him call back.

Once the table is cleaned off he comes back and slides his arms under you, lifting you and cradling you against his chest.

“I can walk you know.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” he responds.

“You are warm,” you whisper, toying with the one buckle of his overalls.

“Winter and Alpine think so too,” he says. “They are always sleepin’ on me.”

“Can’t blame them…”

Your words are sleepy and muddled as your eyes start to droop closed. “I’m so sleepy.”

“It’s been a long day,” Bucky says. “A nap will do you good.”

“Mm a nap,” you murmur and snuggle into his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

When you wake two hours later the sun is low in the sky, painting it in hues of pink and orange. You’re curled up on the couch, Alpine settled on your hip and Winter laying on the floor just under you.

“Hey guys,” you say, greeting them both with alternating pets. “Where’s your dad?”

“Right here,” Bucky says and you sit up to find him.

He’s walking down the hallway in nothing but his towel, eyes dancing with mirth and flirt as he watches your lips part and hears your sharp intake of breath.

“Why are you naked?” you ask him, forcing your eyes to stay on his face.

“I’m not,” he smirks. “How was your nap?”

“Nap…?” you question, letting your eyes fall to his bare chest.

“I new it was eight,” you mutter, falling back to the couch with a huff.

You can hear him chuckle before his head appears over the back of the couch.

“Do you want a shower?” he asks. “Or something to eat?”

“I can’t tell if you’re genuinely asking me these questions or you’re just using some sort of code for dirty talk.”

“Take it however you want doll face.”

He walks away back down the hall and you look at Alpine, mimicking Bucky’s words with mock annoyance.

Opting for a shower you turn the water on hot and stand under it for a long time, bearing most of your weight on your good leg. You will yourself to think of anything other than Bucky but the image of him shirtless and wet is burned onto your brain.

“Fuck,” you grumble, resting your head along the tiles.

After washing and rinsing you leave the shower and grab a towel, wrapping yourself in the fluffy warmth.

“Even his towels are amazing,” you say to yourself with a roll of your eyes.

You look around the bathroom, realizing the only clothes you have are dirty running shorts, a tank and a sports bra, not to mention your ‘sunshiny’ yellow panties.

With a groan you quietly open the door to the bathroom and call to Bucky. He jogs down the hallway, now dressed in a tee shirt and fits him divinely and sweatpants that hang low on his hips.

“You ok doll?” he asks, his concern clear.

“I have no clean clothes,” you say.

His dons his signature lopsided grin and holds up one long, thick finger. Within seconds he reappears with a folded shirt and shorts.

“Hope this ok.”

You take the clothes with a thanks and close the door. When you’re dry you throw the shirt over your head, swimming in the fabric and his scent. Your eyelashes kiss your cheeks with your deep inhale and you run your hands down your body.

“This is bad,” you say to yourself as you slip on the shorts.

You find Bucky in the living room, laying across the couch with Alpine on his chest.

His gaze runs down the length of your body and he keeps staring, the intensity of it growing.

“What?” you whisper.

“I just met you…less than twenty-four hours ago.”

He gently lifts Alpine off his chest and sits up. “I shouldn’t feel like this.”  

“It’s crazy, I know,” you say, feeling grateful you aren’t the only one feeling the deep connection.

“I like you in my clothes,” he whispers as he stands from the couch. “Maybe a little too much.”

You look down at his shirt and fiddle with the hem, suddenly feeling a slight twinge of nerves.

“How’s your ankle?” he asks, stepping closer and tucking his fingers under your chin to lift your focus back to him.

“Ok, just a little sore,” you answer.

“Probably shouldn’t put too much pressure on it,” he says, close enough now that his chest brushes yours with every breath.

“Probably not,” you say as your fingers slide down his muscled arms.  

His hands fall to your waist, his thumbs slipping under your shirt and brushing against your skin. You lean into him, closing any space left between you.

You can feel his heart thumping wildly beneath your fingertips and the blue of his eyes blazes.

“Take me to bed,” you whisper, feeling as if you’ll burst out of your skin if he doesn’t touch you.

His arms slip under your ass and he lifts you up, powering down the hall into his bedroom. The door slams behind him and he gently eases you to your feet. You lock eyes and you swear you’re falling.

And then you literally are as he throws you onto his bed, his expression quickly turning to one of concern when he remembers you sore ankle.

“Doll?” he worries, leaning over you. “I got carried away. Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all,” you assure him, brushing the hair from his face. “Don’t worry I won’t break.”

He takes the hint and presses his lips to yours, sliding his arm under you and pulling you closer. The kiss is on fire and it takes everything in you to finally pull away for air.

“Clothes off,” you murmur, pushing on his chest.

He sits up and straddles you, taking off his shirt. You reach up to touch him and in the same motion he has the shirt over your head, his eyes glazing over as he stares.

“Do you even realize how sexy you are?” he asks with a groan, cupping your breasts and rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Your back arches and you lean into his touch, rolling your hips against him. He releases your breasts only so he can push the sweatpants down his thick thighs before tugging on your shorts.

He kisses you again, his beard scratching along your skin and sending goosebumps racing across it. Your hands dive into his hair, tightening when his fingertips glide down the soft curve of your waist and between your legs.

“Fuck doll, you’re soaked,” he moans with a teasing touch.

He slowly pushes a finger inside you, his eyes falling shut at the feel of you warm and wet around him. A second finger joins the first and he pumps them in and out, your hips meeting every thrust of his hand.

Your fingernails curl into his broad shoulders, his name falling from your lips like a prayer and when his thumb circles your clit your stomach tightens until the tension breaks like a wave, your walls squeezing around his fingers.

Without giving you time to catch your breath he pulls his fingers free and takes your injured leg to rest it over his shoulder, the action spreading you open for him. He pushes inside you, his teeth gritted at how tight and swollen you are.

“Fuck,” he hisses, “you feel incredible.”

His movements start off gentle, the slow glide of his cock driving you insane. You dig your fingers into the muscles of his back, urging him to move faster and he does. He angles your hips and pushes deeper, every thrust of his hips threatening to send you over the edge again.

He slams into you hard enough to bang the headboard against the wall, the sound barely registering over your pleas for more. Your walls begin to tighten and he swells inside of you before you cry out his name with your release.

He follows only moments later, his hips jerking against you and his face falling to your neck.

“Fucking hell,” he groans, pressing a soft kiss to your skin.

You lay there, loving the weight of him as your body practically melts into the mattress. He gently sits up on his arm, his fingertips ghosting across your warm skin and down to your ankle.

“You sure you’re ok?” he asks.

“I’m more than ok,” you answer. “Fucking fabulous.”

He laughs at that and gives you one more kiss before disappearing into the bathroom. He returns with a soft cloth, walking purposefully toward the bed and letting his eyes linger on your sweaty skin. His cock bounces as he starts to grow hard again and you let out a moan.

“I want you again,” he says like it’s a no brainer and then falls next to you on the bed, his touch delicate as he presses the cloth between your legs.

“But first I’m going to taste you doll.”

Your body slides along the soft sheets, the morning sun warm on your bare skin and the feel of something warm and furry pressing against your legs. With a languid stretch you open your eyes and look to the edge of the bed to see Winter sleeping peacefully, his large body leaning into your bottom half and Alpine curled up on top of your legs.

Bucky’s side of the bed is empty but there’s a small note on the pillow that reads, “I’ll be outside in the yard when you wake up,” and it has a small heart drawn below.

You take your time getting up, rousing the animals who protest with even slower movements and loud yawns. Grabbing Bucky’s shirt, you throw it over your body and go to the bathroom to freshen up.

When you walk into the kitchen and look through the window over the sink you see him out in the pen with the goats. Calling for Winter you walk outside, admiring the view of Bucky in nothing but a pair of jeans and his boots.

Winter barks and Bucky turns around. He has a small white goat tucked under his arm and as he saunters toward you it’s hard to restrain your giggles.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” he croons, dipping his head to kiss the corner of your mouth. “How did you sleep?”

“Like a baby,” you answer, reaching out to pet the goat.

“And your ankle?” he asks, looking down.

“Not too bad this morning. Not as sore and definitely less swollen.”

“Good doll face” he smiles. “Now let’s get some breakfast in ya before I take ya back to bed.”

@book-dragon-13 @dreamlessinparis​ @hiddles-and-skittles​ @hiddles-rose​ @jhangelface0523​ @loki-laufeyson-1054​ @goldylions​ @justile @seitmai​ @randomfandompenguin​ @lokisasgardianvampirequeen​ @getwellsoontana​ @whitewolfey​ @whippoorwillbarnes​ @weekendgothgirl​ @breakablebarnes​ @lookiamtrying​

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