#mini rug earings

[slttygeto]

WHISPERED PROMISES—S. SHINICHIRO

જ⁀➴ synopsis: you meet shinichiro one day when he’s working in his shop. you’re sweet, nice and there’s an obvious tension between you two. you feel like a teenager with the way he’s making you nervous, but you accept to go on a date with him. things only get better from there.

જ⁀➴ content warning: so much fluff i almost cried, fem!reader, you and shin have the biggest crush on each other, he’s so sweet and respectful, eventual smut, mentions of a breeding kink, protected sex, fingering, oral (fem! receiving), pussy whipped shinichiro, dirty talk, lots of kisses, shin has a big dick<3 

જ⁀➴word count: 7,9k (lord have mercy)

જ⁀➴note: a great thank you to @mztoman  for commissioning me again!! I got so carried with this fic, the plot was just so good!! 

COMMISSIONS ARE STILL OPEN: 1 SLOT LEFT.

COMMENTS AND REBLOGS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED!

Working on weekends was Shinichiro’s least favorite thing about his job. He tried his best to make it a good experience, he really did, but he was tired from a long week of working eight hours a day (and sometimes more when there was an emergency). And so, small things got on his nerves.

His lunchbox wouldn’t open, he forgot to pack chopsticks with him, he forgot to put water in his mini-fridge, the air conditioner was barely working—good lord, he was getting so annoyed.

Ring!

Oh great, a customer visiting when he was at his wits ends. Shinichiro stands up from his crouching position next to the bike he was working on. He grabs the rug that was attached to his pants and wipes his hands. He was expecting the usual type of customers; rude, stubborn, the know-it-all who tried to explain to him his own job and how it’s done. All in all, unlikeable.

Though, he is pleasantly surprised when he finds a girl standing at the door, looking around his shop with heart eyes. You looked so lost in your thoughts, your hands gripping your hand bag so tightly (from nervousness? Shinichiro wasn’t sure). Your stance was polite, and you looked in awe at his work. Maybe working today wasn’t such a bad idea if his first customer of the day is someone like you.

He brushes off the thoughts, telling himself that you looked young—no, way too young for someone like him. Plus, he wasn’t exactly the luckiest with girls. He’s had his fair share of hookups, tried to be in relationships, but things just never worked out for him.

He rolls his shoulders as he approaches you, greeting you with a wave. He was tall, had a smile that had you feeling a little dizzy—good god, this man was attractive. Whether it be the way he carried himself, or how he wiped the dirt off his hands, you could tell that he was hardworking and truly loved his job.

“Hi, welcome to our shop.” He really hoped that his voice wouldn’t crack and embarrass him. Technically, it was his shop and he was proud of it. It wasn’t exactly the fanciest out there, but it was his pride and joy. The display of the many bikes that he owned always caught people’s attention outside and left him grinning from ear to ear.

“Hello, thank you, I didn’t think anyone was here,” you were nervous, he could tell by watching you relax and clench your hands more than once.

“Well, someone has to be here,” he jokes and for a second, he can tell you were glad that he did. His playful remark somehow made you relax, and you let out a slightly less nervous giggle (which sounded so fucking adorable).

“You’re right, my bad.” You start looking around the shop again, and the man thinks it’s time to try to get to know you a little better. How can he do that without appearing to be invading your personal space? Should he immediately ask for your name? No, that’s too bold. Maybe…Maybe taking the professional approach will work.

“Can I see your driver’s license?” Very subtle.

You don’t hesitate as you pull it out and hand it to the tall man, and you watch as his eyes scan it for a good five seconds before humming in approval.

You were indeed younger, but only four years younger than him, really fucking attractive. He thought that there is no way you were single, but then again there was no ring on your finger—should he just ask you if you were in a relationship? Nu-uh, too soon.

“Alright, and how can I help you?”

“I am here to fix my friend’s bike for her birthday,”

“Oh you have a biker friend? So you know a little about them?”

“Only the basics, I’m more of an avid fan of the races rather than a participator.” You let out a chuckle, rubbing the back of your neck. You weren’t lying, you did enjoy watching more than riding them. But only because you tried before and failed miserably, and you weren’t going to include such embarrassing detail to a handsome stranger.

“Okay, what does she need help with exactly?”

You go into detail of what had happened, and how your friend had stopped riding her motorcycle just because she was too busy saving up money for something else. And with her birthday coming up, you thought you could sneakily get a family member of hers to bring the bike to this particular shop and get it fixed right on time. Shinichiro agrees to help you, and you both settle on the price rather quickly. Now you no longer had a reason to be in the shop, but you didn’t exactly want to leave either.

“You’re not busy?”

“Not at all,” you look at the display of the many fancy motorcycles he owned, letting out a “wow” at how shiny and pretty they looked. He took good care of them.

“My name is Shinichiro, by the way.” He takes his hand out to shake yours and you accept it immediately. You try not to blush at how rough his hand felt, evidence of true hard work. Could he get any more attractive?

“Nice to meet you, Shinichiro,” you grin at the man, and feel him squeeze your hand tightly before relaxing. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but hesitated and thought ‘nevermind’. But the longer you stayed in his shop, the more obvious it was to the man that if you left the shop without his number, he would be the one to call himself a loser. No need for Benkei and Wakasa to do that for him.

“So, uh…” His lips part, his hand comes to the back of his neck and your heart picks up its pace. You could see that the tips of his ears were turning red, and his hand hadn’t let go of yours. “This is a little unprofessional of me…” He mumbles to himself. He sighs and you chuckle and at the dilemma he seems to be in, but that sound alone seems to encourage him to speak more. He wants to hear you laugh again, you seemed very comfortable with what was happening.

“Would you like to go out sometime? I’d like to know you better, you seem like a really nice girl and—“

“Absolutely.” You don’t let him go on with his little ramble, only flash him a nervous grin. The apples of your cheeks were as red as his, and it truly felt like two teenagers confessing to one another. You loved a man that made you feel like this.

“Oh?” He grins back, and his hand slides down from his nape to the back pocket of his jeans. “Great, when are you available?”

“Tomorrow, my place.” Shinichiro almost chokes on his saliva at your words. Your place? It was too early for that, not that he minded—but he wanted to be a gentleman, wait at least a few dates before even trying to get in bed with you—

Sensing that he was malfunctioning, your other hand slides on top of the hand that was holding yours and you squeeze it in reassurance.

“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable. I just thought going to a restaurant would be a waste of money—and personally, I love cooking. We can just watch a movie and hang out?” You felt like such a breath of fresh air. Somehow, feeling your skin against his made him immediately relax.

It’s not the idea of coming to your place that scared him, he just always thought you only do that after a while of dating. But here you were, suggesting that an indoor date would be better and cheaper than at a restaurant. Plus, he felt like he could get to know you better if you’re sitting on the couch together alone rather than in a place filled with people.

“I love the idea. So, tomorrow?”

“8PM, how does that sound?”

“Perfect.”

--

After exchanging phone numbers, you and Shinichiro practically texted almost all night. You talked about everything and nothing, almost forgetting to send him your location. Turns out, you didn’t really live that far away from his own place, nearly less than a five minute walk.

He was really nervous. He didn’t tell anyone about the date, made up some bullshit of a lie that he was going out for a few hours and his friends were already eyeing him weird. He simply wanted to take his time with you. Your chemistry seemed promising even though you’ve known each other for less than a day.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, and if you were going to choose not to go out on a date with him again, he could at least keep it a secret to himself.

Since you were the one cooking tonight, Shinichiro thought it would be rude if he didn’t bring anything with him. So he got a bouquet, brought board games with him and some drinks just in case. He felt stupid for not having asked you beforehand what kind of drinks you liked, but he was almost at your place. No time for regrets.

You had also told him to dress comfortably. You were going to chill in your living room for a while, and you wanted your date to feel as natural as possible. So here he was, dressed in a white hoodie and some grey sweatpants, his hair was still slightly wet from the quick shower he took after getting off work, and he hoped that he wouldn’t catch a cold.

Arriving at your doorstep, the man was more than sure that this was your place. You had a cute doormat with the word ‘WELCOME’ written in bold, along with two huge plants on either side of it. If your doorstep felt this cozy, he could only imagine what the inside looks like.

Knock, knock, knock.

He waits approximately three seconds before he hears the sound of you running barefoot to the doorstep, a muffled “I’m coming!” accompanied with it. You handle a few locks before opening the door, greeting him with the cutest smile he’s ever seen. He doesn’t have time to look at your outfit or tell you how nice you look before you were wrapping your arms around him. You don’t squeeze too tight, but Shinichiro feels you flinch and pull away.

“Oh, sorry! I got too excited—“ you’re blushing—fuck, you’re blushing and he’s getting butterflies in his stomach like a teenager. Shinichiro has been on enough dates to know the difference between feeling nervous and having an absolute crush on his date—it was the latter with you.

“It’s okay, I like hugs,” he places the bag full of goods on the floor and pulls you in another hug, his hand caressing your back gently. He hopes you can’t hear how loud his heart is beating, because then he would be fucked.

“You smell really good,” you mumble against his chest and you feel him hum. He leans down and you can feel his nose on top of your head—this was too intimate for a first date, but neither of you minded.

“You smell like roses,” he lets you pull away from the hug, grinning from ear to ear that his words were getting you to blush this hard.

“Thank you.” So shy, so sweet--

I swear if this doesn’t work out, I’ll never date again.

“Oh how rude of me, please come on in!” You lead him all the way inside, and Shinichiro can finally take a look at your outfit. You were wearing the cutest dress that reached right above your knees, along with a pair of fuzzy socks. You looked so comfortable and adorable, he couldn’t help the smile on his lips.

“Quite the cute outfit,” his tone is playful, it makes you pause what you were doing in the kitchen to give him a playful glare yourself.

“Yeah, yeah, I told you I wanted us to feel comfortable. It’s bad enough that my heart is about to explode,” so it wasn’t just him feeling nervous, cool.

“You’re also nervous?”

“Also?” now it’s your turn to sound playful and the man laughs at your antics. He takes a seat on your couch, and waits for you to join him. He looks around your apartment, and takes in how well thought everything seemed to be. From the candles sitting by the tiny coffee table, to the polaroids hanging on the wall—your place felt like a perfect representation of how you were as a person and as a friend; comforting and sweet.

“You got me my favorite drink!” Your excited voice pulls him out of his thoughts. He stares at you and the way your eyes seem to light up at a simple drink. He picked out the flavor very randomly, his thought process was ‘I hope she likes this’ and turns out, you did.

Lucky him. Everything he seemed to do or pick for you aligned perfectly with your preferences. Though, he couldn’t deny that he was eager to learn more about you; what you did for a living, what your favorite pet was, your sleeping schedule, your favorite place to eat—he needed to stop.

You approached the TV and grabbed your remote control before turning around to face him.

“Food is almost ready, wanna watch something in the mean time?” Shinichiro nods and you quickly take a seat next to him on the couch.

“So, what kind of shows are you into?”

The next half hour passes by rather quickly, and you end up not watching anything as you both chat on the couch. He helps you check in on the food when you gasp in horror, thinking that it got burned—but thank god, it didn’t. You talk about your childhood, what you did for a living and how things were going for you. If you had any friends living nearby, where you grew up. You appreciated how attentive the dark haired male sitting on your kitchen stool was, your heart skipped a beat every time he flashed you an adorable grin. You were absolutely doomed.

“How about you though, any friends or family living around you?” You ask as you start serving the pasta on the plates he helped setting on the table. He hums in response, but you think it was directed towards the food and how delicious it looked.

“I have two siblings, a brother and a sister.”

“Younger?”

“Yeah, how did you know?” he quirks an eyebrow at you and you shrug your shoulders.

“You give off oldest brother vibes,”

“In a good way I hope,” he teases, waiting for you to take a seat facing him.

“An amazing way, you seem very caring and selfless.” You light up the candle sitting in the middle of the table, and Shinichiro tries his best not to stare for too long when you stand up to do it. You were leaning down, the light coming from the candle made you look ten times prettier tonight.

Well, fuck me.

You catch him staring at you, the taller guy almost cooing at how you seemed to blush at his attention. A shy ‘what?’ leaves your lips and Shinichiro shakes his head in response.

“Just—you look so pretty,” he was being honest. He wasn’t trying to scare you away or seem creepy, Shinichiro was just an honest man.

“Oh please—have you seen yourself? You’re so handsome, it should be illegal!”

“Not gonna lie, I am handsome,” you stare at him in disbelief, before breaking into a laugh.

“What? My parents were very beautiful people,”

“Oh, I’m not saying otherwise. It just caught me off guard,” you giggled, grabbing your fork to eat your spaghetti.

“Plus, I look like my mom. It’s my biggest flex,” you notice how he smiles when he mentions his mom, and realize that he used the past tense when referring to his parents. Should you ask him about them or not?

“Were they nice people?” you were thankful that he caught on who you were referring to, and gave you a nod.

“The best.”

--

Dinner went on very smoothly with you two chatting here and there. There seemed to be no hole in your conversations, and when it suddenly got quiet, you’d immediately fill it with a new topic. Talking to him was just so fun.

He helps you clean the dishes (despite you saying he doesn’t have to) and you learn from standing next to him without your shoes on that he was a rather tall man. His stature was incredibly attractive even with a hoodie on, and he seemed to love dancing while washing the dishes.

“Oh did I tell you I have a niece?” you gasp at the revelation, almost dropping the board game he brought with him.

“You do? Show me!” he immediately whips out his phone and shows you the folder he has dedicated to pictures of him and his niece. He has approximately 500 pictures of her and she’s the sweetest girl ever.

She looks exactly like him, you almost think that he’s lying to you about being her uncle. You can definitely tell that she got her blond hair from her mom (you passed by a few pictures of the little girl with her parents), but she definitely looked like uncle’s favorite girl.

He tells you about her, how she brought some joy to his life a year ago when she was born. You listen to him and admire how his eyes are full of love when speaking of her—this man was the greenest flag you’ve ever met.

“I’d love for you to meet her, y’know if we see each other again,” he hesitates as he says the last sentence, but your hand is immediately wrapped around his arm before you squeeze it reassuringly.

“I would love to meet her,” even if you didn’t explicitly say it, you were hinting that you were looking forward to your next date together. Lucky Shinichiro.

The rest of the night is filled with laughter as you try all the board games he brought with him. Even when you got bored and decided to do something else, the man was down for whatever as long as it meant making you smile and giggle until your stomach was hurting. He loved how you seemed to encourage him whenever he doubted himself, he also noticed that your hand would always land on his back in reassurance when he lost (mostly to tease him, but you still loved feeling his muscular back through the fabric of his hoodie).

It was around 11:30PM when Shin finally decided it was time to head back home, and he had to fight the urge to kiss your lips when you sulked at the realization that it was time for him to leave.

“Man, that was too fast,” you complain as you both walk towards the door, and he chuckles at how whiny you suddenly got.

“Hey, it’s not like we won’t see each other again, yeah?” his hand landed on your back to reassure you the same way you did when he lost, and he noticed how you seemed to melt at his touch.

“Yeah,” you reply in a small voice, shy and suddenly too aware of your loud heartbeat.

Was he going to give you a hug? Kiss you? You were honestly hoping for a kiss, maybe a quick peck?

You were thinking too much.

“Thank you for tonight, I really had so much fun with you,” his hand rested at your shoulder, and you almost melted when he squeezed it. His hand was big and warm, you couldn’t stop thinking of how nice it would feel if you held it, kissed the skin or maybe traced the scars on it.

“I had so much fun too,” you reply, your hand instinctively wrapping itself around his wrist. Your thumb caresses the skin there, and while your heart was telling you that this was the right thing to do, your brain was scolding you for being so forward.

Shinichiro could swear that his heart was about to come out of his throat when your hand wrapped around his wrist. Your warm touch and caring nature had the man feeling dizzy, blushing once again like he’s never felt a woman’s touch before.

“Goodnight,” he pulls you towards him to hug you, grabbing both your arms to wrap them around his waist. This doesn’t necessarily catch you off guard since your brain had been screaming at you to wait for him to do something.

“Goodnight Shinichiro,” your head rests on his chest, a smile adorning your lips. You pull away from the hug a few seconds later, and wait for him to put on his shoes before opening the door for him.

“Text me when you get home,” you say in a low voice, trying not to disturb the neighbors and he nods.

“I will, bye!”

“Bye!” you wave at him, watching his back as he slowly walks away from your apartment. You close the door and stand there for a moment, trying to recollect your thoughts. This was by far one of the best first dates you’ve been on. Not only was Shinichiro such a sweetheart, but you had so much fun with him. You felt like you could hang out with him forever, you couldn’t wait for your next date together—fuck, perhaps you were rushing things? Maybe he wanted to wait a couple of days before calling you again, or maybe he won’t call you at all—

Knock! Knock! Knock!

Your heart stills at the sound, you almost grab your phone to call the police. But something tells you to open the door anyway, and when you do, two warm hands are grabbing your face and pulling you out of your apartment.

Shinichiro?

“What are you—“

“I wanna kiss you—can I kiss you?” he looks out of breath and his cheeks are pink. You’re not sure if it’s because of the fact that he ran, or if he was flustered. But either way, your cheeks are the same color as his when you hear his request.

“Kiss me, please.”

That was all what he needed to hear before pressing his lips against yours. His lips are warm and soft, and he kisses you so passionately that you can feel your head spinning. Your hands are balled up in fists, tightly holding onto the fabric of his hoodie to keep him closer to you. Shinichiro’s bigger frame is obvious when he kisses you, his entire form leans over you and it makes you blush even more.

Your lips move together for a few more moments before you’re both pulling away, the taller male still pressing kisses all over your face before pecking you on the lips one last time.

“Goodnight,” he says one last time, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips before walking away from your apartment.

You close the door once again, and for a moment you feel like a main character in a romance drama. You lean your weight against the wall and feel your burning cheeks with your hands.

“Oh… my god,”

Shinichiro was going to be all you could think of for the next few days.

---

After your first date together, you and Shinichiro went on four more dates. Each one had a different vibe to it; at the fair, at a café, another date at your place and the most recent one was a cute lunch date at his bike shop. He fixed your friend’s bike but you also preferred being alone with him rather than outside with a crowd of people. Not that you didn’t appreciate the dates at the fair and the café, you were still feeling giddy from knowing each other, and so it felt more intimate to spend time together like this.

Shinichiro hadn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet, and you were more than okay with it. You could tell he was waiting for the right moment to do it, it was adorable. There were times where it would get quiet between you two and you would find him staring at you so lovingly, it made your heart stutter in your chest.

He was about to come pick you up from your place very soon, and you remember him telling you to wear something comfortable which intrigued you. Where was he taking you exactly?

Soon after, you heard familiar three knocks at your door and almost jumped from the couch. You were so excited to see him, the part of your brain that usually embarrassed you for being so excited for a date was buried somewhere—this was Shinichiro, the same man who hugged and kissed you so passionately on your first date, held your hand at the fair and pecked your lips after winning a teddy bear for you. He got you food when you told him you were too tired to cook, and cleaned your kitchen despite you telling him he didn’t have to.

And he still hasn’t asked you to be his girlfriend yet.

You brushed off the negativity aside, trying to tell yourself that the pit in your stomach was from excitement and not disappointment. He’s been so good to you, just because he was taking too long to make things official didn’t mean he was playing you.

You hoped.

You open the door and is greeted with a good looking Shinichiro. It was dark outside, it was 9PM and so the street light made him look extra attractive.

He always looked good, but this time—wow. He was wearing a leather jacket with some jeans and a white shirt, and he had his helmet in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other. You tried your best not to blush at the sight of his hair slicked back, but you were so used to turning red in his presence that you just let it happen.

“Well hello there handsome,” you try to tease him, hoping that it makes your blush die down and give you a hint of confidence, but it withers away so fast when he places his helmet on the floor and pulls you into a hug. He smells so fucking good, it should be unfair.

“Hi pretty, ready for our date?” He pulls away from the hug to stare at your outfit and hums when he sees that you’re wearing shorts and a cardigan. “You look adorable.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your red cheek, and chuckles when you look down shyly.

“Thank you,”

“Still shy?” He teases, handing you the bouquet which you hold carefully.

“Shut up, it’s not my fault,” you walk back inside your place and Shinichiro waits for you by the door with his helmet. You put the bouquet of flowers in a vase and fill it with water before putting it on your table. This way, it always felt like a part of him was around you.

“It’s cute,” he flashes you a smile and you have to look away to try to calm your nerves. Making you feel this nervous should be illegal. Did he cast some spell on you?

“Anyway big boy, where are we going?” you walk out of your apartment and close the door, and when you turn around to face the taller guy, he places his helmet on your head and helps adjusting it so that it doesn’t fall off.

“I’m taking you somewhere, do you trust me?” He points at his motorcycle waiting for you both in front of your building and your lips part in awe. He was taking you for a ride on his most treasured possession?

“I do,” he sees that you’re in deep thought and squeezes your shoulder.

“Then let’s go.”

He gets on top of his bike and helps you sit behind him, and at first you hesitate on where to put your hands—until you feel him wrap your arms around his waist and tug you to press your chest on his back.

“Hold on tight, okay?” You could swear he was doing it on purpose, but you don’t think much of it when he’s suddenly speeding away from your apartment building.

It takes you ten minutes to get to your destination, with Shinichiro showing off his skills and laughing when you scream in horror when you get too close to car. You never thought that he would drive so…recklessly, but it was fun. He parks his motorcycle very close to where you were both standing, facing a small lake that you always passed by when going to work. It had pretty cherry trees, and people always took their dogs out on walks or walked with their partners here.

“I love this place,” you whisper, standing close to Shinichiro who chuckles at your words. He knows, you mentioned it before when you were having lunch together.

“I know, you always stare at it when we drive past it,”

He noticed. You almost coo at this, and stare up at the tall man through your eyelashes. Your arms instinctively wrap around his waist and he pulls you closer to him, resting your head on his chest.

“You like it?”

“I love it,” you pull away from the hug to rest your chin on his chest, staring up at him with the same eyes that always had the man weak in the knees. His hand caresses the top of your head as he stares down at you, and it slowly slips from the top to the back of your head.

“If you keep staring at me like that, I might just kiss you,” although there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice, you could tell he was being serious. And who were you to deny a kiss from him?

“Kiss me, Shin,” the man doesn’t need to be told twice before he’s leaning down to kiss you. You sigh in the kiss, his hands hold your face so gently that it makes you melt into his touch.

When you both pull away, you’re glad that it was dark outside or your faces would’ve given away how flustered you were. He can still tell from your warm cheeks that you were blushing and leans down to give you a quick peck.

“Can I be your boyfriend?” This man was too much for your heart to handle. You thought he was attractive, well-mannered and a gentleman—but this really takes the cake.

You’re excited, giddy that you could finally make things official with him. You’ve been waiting for this day since your first date—and it finally happened.

“Gladly.”

You and Shinichiro were officially girlfriend and boyfriend.

---

Today, you were going to meet Shinichiro’s niece. His sister had asked him if he could babysit her and he agreed, asking her if you could tag along which she agreed to. She wanted to meet you, and you weren’t opposed to the idea. Emma seemed very sweet from the many times Shin mentioned her, and so meeting her didn’t stress you out that much.

You got to Emma and Draken’s place at 5PM, they wanted to go on a date (which was well deserved) and so asking Shinichiro to babysit her seemed like the best option since the baby was in love with him. You greet the couple with a smile, and you watch as Emma shows Shinichiro where the bottles and diapers are, and what to do in case she cried—which he knew about already. His sister was just anxious, and probably felt a little too guilty to be taking some time away from her little girl.

“Have fun!”

Now it was just you, Shin and the little girl. For a one year old, she sure had a lot of personality. And you think that she definitely got it from her uncle. She giggles at everything he does and loves to sit on his lap, but when she noticed you sitting on the couch, her eyes lit up. She was intrigued, and she rarely ever met a new person.

You weren’t a familiar face, but she didn’t cry when you asked Shin if you could hold her. She gladly let you take her in your arms and even giggled and buried her face in your chest when you flashed her a small smile. What an angel.

“Oh are you getting shy on me?” You stand up from the couch with her in your arms and walk to the kitchen to get her one of the snacks her mother had prepared for her. You held her in one arm while the free one grabbed her chair to sit her there.

Shinichiro watched the scene unfold and could feel his body tense up. Whatever it was that had him feeling this… dizzy, he needed to brush it off. You were so good with his niece, so gentle and caring—you talked to her with so much tender and his niece seemed to love you; a complete stranger she just met. You treated her like she was your own baby, changed her diaper and helped getting her to bed, you even gave her a bath and Shinichiro could only imagine what it would be like to have a baby with you.

Watching you walk around your shared apartment with a belly full of his baby, so sore and whiny. You would cuddle up against him and he would feel the baby kick, you would place his hand on your stomach and he would caress the skin lovingly. You would be so needy and horny, grinding against his thigh and he would help you—his pretty little wife, bringing you to an earth shattering orgasm—

Shit, he was getting hard.

He was so relieved when Emma and Draken came back, their daughter was fast asleep and you both were cuddling on the couch. He didn’t realize how rushed his goodbyes were until he felt you tagging at his sleeve in front of the car.

“Shin? Are you okay?” You were worried, his pretty angel so concerned for him, so unaware that the thought of breeding you was all over his mind. He didn’t want to scare you away, but he thought since you’ve already made it official and made out a couple of times, he could tell you what was on his mind.

“Can you come over?”

“To your place?” You tilt your head to the side and Shinichiro nods.

“Spend the night, I need you.”

He needs you.

You felt yourself get dizzy at his words, lips parted in shock. You weren’t taken aback by the fact that he was horny for you, but saying it out loud and sounding so…desperate, you could feel your panties getting embarrassingly wet.

“I’ll give you my hoodie, I can go to your place and get you some clothes I just—“ He knew he was rambling, but he didn’t want you to think that he only cared about his pleasure, not when he knew the night was going to be all about you.

“Shin,” you cut him off, and the man stares down at you. “I need you too, please,”

---

Once at Shinichiro’s place, you didn’t have time to take off your jacket before he was pushing you up against the wall and kissing you so feverishly. You don’t know what set him off, but you weren’t opposed to it. His hands were helping you rid yourself of your jacket before slipping behind your thighs to grip the skin.

He pulls away from the kiss and presses his forehead against yours, panting and already so out of breath.

“If you feel uncomfortable or want me to stop, tap my arm, okay?”

So cute. Your response was a moan before you were kissing him again, this time trying to deepen it more than before. Shin taps your butt and asks you to jump, and when you do he wraps your legs around his waist and starts heading towards his bedroom. He kisses you like he means it, and unlike other kisses you’ve shared before, this one has a hint of lust to it—it tastes different; needy, demanding, and you melt into it like butter.

You expect his room to be a little messy, but you’re pleasantly surprised when you see how tidy it is. It smelled of sandalwood and his perfume, bed neatly made. He throws you on top of it like you weigh nothing, and is immediately on top of you after stripping himself of his own jacket. He gets back to kissing you, this time you’re aware of what’s pressing against your thigh and you don’t mind at all—instead, you’re pushing him away from you to sit up on your elbows.

“Are you—“

“Shut up and help me take off my shirt,” Shin’s lips are sealed shut at your words, then he’s doing as told. He helps you take off your shirt and grunts at the sight of you in your bra. Your tits looked gorgeous. He leans down and presses a kiss to the skin below your collarbone, hands sliding up to your shorts to pull them down in on fast movement and you squeal.

“Shin!”

“You don’t mind me getting a little taste first, right?” A blush spreads across your cheeks but you shake your head almost frantically at his words. You wiggle yourself out of your shorts, giving him a little show by letting them hang to your ankle for a moment before throwing them somewhere in his room. You giggle when he leans in and presses a kiss to your calf, but it turns into a moan when he licks all the way up to your inner thigh.

“You wanna tease me, is that it?” His mouth leaves wet kisses all over your inner thighs, before finally getting to your panties. He is shameless as he takes a whiff of your arousal through the damp fabric, and you almost kick him away because of how embarrassing it looks.

“You smell—fucking heavenly, “ he practically moans out the last part, and it makes a shy sound erupt from the back of your throat, looking away from him. But he’s having none of that—not tonight. He wanted you to look him dead in the eyes as he fucked every thought out of your head, wanted to feel you clamp around his dick as he brought you to a mind spinning orgasm.

You gasp when you feel him remove your panties in one swift motion, not even stuttering and hesitating as he balls them up and puts them in his pocket. You couldn’t even ask him what he was going to do with them before he was leaning down and spreading your pussy lips with a breathy moan. He looked so gone and he hasn’t even touched you yet, the sight of him looking so in love with your pussy made your clit throb—which made him audibly grunt.

“You’re a treat,” you don’t respond verbally—you can’t since he immediately wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. You inhale sharply at the contact, back arching and jaw going slack when he proceeds to pull away and flatten his tongue on the sensitive bud. Your eyes are rolled to the back of your head when he repeats the same movements—sucks, pulls away, kisses and then licks. It seems like a simple formula, and you can feel yourself getting louder and wetter but you have no care in the world. He’s eating you out so good, he’s showing no signs of stopping and you don’t want him to. Plus, whatever turned him on tonight must’ve made him feral if he was all over you like a mad man.

“Shin—oh fuck, oh baby,” you’re out of breath, your hands are flailing around trying to find where to grip. Until you feel the man between your legs grab your hand and placed them on top of his head. He wanted you to pull his hair, Jesus fuck.

You don’t have time to think properly, not that you can. You’re pulling at Shinichiro’s hair, hips bucking and stuttering with every strong lick on your clit. Your body is arching off the bed, and you sit up with a huff. Shinichiro can tell you’re about to cum when he pushed your body back down and slides in two fingers at a time. He looks up and has to hold himself back from cumming in his pants when he sees the blissed out look on your face—glossy eyes, bruised lips and red cheeks. You were a sight to see.

He helps you reach your orgasm with fast thrusts of his fingers, kissing the inner of your thigh and humming quietly about how well you were doing for him, how you were going to take his dick like a champ, how he can’t wait to stuff your cunt full of him and—

“Fuck!” You cry out, your body stuttering and shuddering as you finally get to cum. You ride out your orgasm by grinding your hips to the same rhythm as Shinichiro’s thrusts, and you whine at him when you can feel him kiss your clit, praising you for doing so well for him.

“My pretty girl, my gorgeous girl—you did so well,” he whispers and kisses your stomach, and you look down at him with lustful eyes and a fucked out expression, which he chuckles at.

Your eyes follow his every move as he gets up from between your legs and walks to his nightstand. He opens a drawer and grabs a condom, and you almost whine at him for that.

“Ah, baby. We gotta be careful,” he soothes you with a hand on your cheek, his thumb tracing circles on the skin before traveling down to your lips. He feels like a mad man when you open your mouth and take his thumb in, swirling your tongue around before gently biting it. What a fucking tease.

“Next time, you can do that to my cock, yeah?” He whispers to you and you nod, but your eyes are wide and blown out with lust as you stare down at the visible bulge in his pants. He chuckles at your stare, and gives you a little show as he takes off his shirt—flaunting the body that he has even if it wasn’t the fittest, he was proud of it.

Then he’s wiggling out of his pants, and grins when you reach your hand towards his boxers to palm his hard-on. He grabs your wrist and shakes his head, leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your hand.

“I said next time, hm?”

You don’t have time to pout about it before he’s taking off his boxers—and holy shit. He had your mouth watering, but your heart stutters and jumps in your chest at the thought of such a heavy cock inside of you. Shin watches as your expression changes and he chuckles, his cheeks reddening a little. For a man who was so full of confidence a few moments ago, seeing you look so in love with his cock made him feel a little proud.

“Next time when you go on the pill, I’ll fill you up so good,” he rips the condom with his mouth and swiftly places it on his dick, he watches as you eagerly spread your legs to welcome him between them and you nod at his words, even though you’re mainly focused on his cock.

“Yeah? You’d like that?” he lines up the tip with your entrance and you nod desperately, feeling yourself get even more turned on. “You’d like me to cum inside you, watch it leak out of you when we go for rounds?”

You’re a moaning mess by the time he slips it inside. You cling to his shoulders, face scrunched up in pleasure when you’re able to feel the sheer size of him inside you. Holy shit.

“Yeah baby, you won’t even have to work for it,” he adds, sounding out of breath. He pushes your legs up and shamelessly stares at how you’re taking his dick—your pussy swallows him back every time he tries to pull out, almost begs him to keep fucking you.

“Gonna give my pretty girl exactly what she wants—shit, gonna fuck her full of my cum,” your tummy is alive with butterflies at his words, and you stare up at the man who looks so focused on your pussy. Feeling your stare, Shinichiro locks eyes with you and chuckles. He’s all sweaty and fucked out himself, and the smile he flashes you when he starts to drill his cock into you is devilish.

He knew what he was doing, and you weren’t complaining about it. Your body feels on fire with every drive of is hips, fingernails digging into the skin of his back when he reaches that one spongy spot in your walls—you squeal, hands traveling down almost to push his hips away and that’s when he knows he found it and fuck—he starts to bully it.

You’re a sobbing mess, begging for absolutely nothing in particular but you keep chanting ‘please, please, please’ repeatedly, and Shincihiro has to lean down and kiss you. He soothes you with his lips, a heavy contrast to his mean thrusts. He’s fucking every thought out of your brain, and by the time you’re even able to come up with a coherent sentence, he pushes a single leg up on his shoulders—and your entire body seizes up.

You’re cumming hard around him, your jaw has gone slack and Shinichiro doesn’t stop. The bed shakes with every harsh thrust, and by the time you’re able to breathe again, you’re letting out a small scream at the intensity of your orgasm.

“Atta girl—fuuuuck, gonna make me cum,” he whines out the last part, his hands pinning your hips down to the mattress. You cry out from overstimulation, your pussy aching for him to slow down.

“Just a bit more baby, just a little—“ It only takes a few strokes for him to empty himself in the condom, reaching down to rest his forehead on your shoulder. You’re both a sweaty, panting mess, clinging onto each other as though you were one another’s life line. And even through heavy breaths, you kiss Shinichiro’s cheek, giggling when you see him smile.

“Are you okay?” He kisses your shoulder lovingly, letting his lips travel up to your neck where he feels you hum. You look down at him, letting your fingers brush the sweaty strands out of his face.

“Never been better,” Shinichiro grins at this, and he fixes himself until he’s able to kiss you properly on the lips. He makes it short and sweet, trying his best not to get carried away again because he knew you were definitely sore.

“Come on, you gotta get up and pee, darling.”

“And shower… I feel so sticky,” you make a face at the word sticky and the man above you chuckles at this.

“I like you like this, you smell like me.”

“Shin!”

2023 © all works belong to slttygeto. do not repost my work anywhere else.

#moon's works #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers fluff #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro sano #tr shinichiro #tokrev shinichiro #shinichiro smut #shinichiro fluff #tokyo revengers shinichiro #shinichiro x you #shinichiro x y/n

[roronoaswifey]

thinking about zoro fucking you in a full nelson hold.

he fucks you relentlessly, brutally and mean, tip of his girthy cock ramming into your cervix with precision, each stroke driving your brain to mush. arms and leg bind together, you’re left open and helpless, and left no choice but to sit and take as he fucks into you with everything he has.

it’s so unintentional too; you’d started off riding him in reverse cowgirl, arms reaching back to rest as support on his toned torso, bouncing up and down on inches of dick, desperate to chase that orgasmic feeling you craved so bad. your pussy drove him to madness— the silky feel of your gummy walls tightening on his dick, gushing with wetness and rubbing up and down on his achingly hard cock, the friction resulting in creaming all over, a ring of pearly white nut encircling the base of his dick. the sounds were downright pornographic, your sticky ass clapping back on his firm thighs, and gods, zoro had to fight with every willpower stored in him to keep his damn eye open. though, he knows what his baby wants, and even if you hadn’t exactly said it (instead approaching with “hnng—daddy please!”), the desperation in your voice, the kegel in your riding, the tightening in his gut at when you fucking called him daddy and begged for him to help you sent him over the edge.

in the blink of an eye, you found your hands that once held onto a flat surface of stomach were now holding onto bulging forearms, same forearms that managed to pin your knees to your damn ears. planting his heels to the mattress of the bed, his hips snap up and lord, this new position hits an entirely deeper spot that had your glossy eyes crossing.

“fuckin’ hell, mama,” he groans, and you’re utterly helpless in his hold, your eyes dazed and rolling to the back of your head. your limbs fall limp and you feel heat spreading from your toes all the way till the top of your head. he’s fucking raw and rough, and with no choice but to lean your weight on him, you let him use you.

“s’goo— hnngg, fuuuuckkk” you babble, unable to concentrate on anything else other than the way your cervix gets abused by the tip of his girthy cock. you feel drool pool to the corner of your lips, your jaw slackened and sweat sticky between your back and his rugged chest.

“yeah?” he chuckles breathily, and though you can’t see his face, you can’t imagine anything else other than a smug look decorating his expressions. “see how greedy yer pussy’s taking my cock? clenching so damn hard,” he pants, hips snapping and the echoes of your ass clapping on his thighs mixed with your wet cunt is downright sinful, “jesus baby, y’must love it when i fuck you like this, huh?”

you nod, words stuck in the back of your throat and instead moaning pathetically. he’s taken the ability to comprehend any question he asks you, and has you completely turned on around the idea of him using his strength against you.

“words, princess,” his warm breath fans your neck, grumbles deep from his chest and you feel shivers crawl up your spine.

“y-yes— yesyesyesyes!” you whine, the words of approval falling past your lips and into the room.

“gonna fuck you full,” he groans shamelessly, feeling arousal creep up to his gut quicker than he would like to admit. you were clenching so hard and he knew he was bound to finish soon. “full of my cum, leave you oozin’ and fuck it right back into your pretty pussy. sounds good?”

“please zee,” you begged, toes curling and the familiar sensation of an orgasm washing over. you clit aches and you spray your liquids all over the sheets, down your and zoro’s thighs. “puh— please! want it—need it bad!”

“good. fuckin’. girl.” he fucks to each word before spilling hot cum into your spasming pussy. true to his word, his nut paints your walls white and you feel so full, a mini bulge forming right above your pussy due to his cock and semen filling up the tiny space. you shudder, tongue lolled as he drags your orgasm even further while chasing his own.

“fuuckkk, that’s it,” he groans, his pace slowing down as his high finally comes down. feeling sated enough, he slowly releases your limbs and you fall flat onto his chest, body weight suddenly so heavy as you twitch from the overstimulation.

with a huge ego boost, zoro chuckles, now gently wrapping your slump body with his bulky muscles. “still here wimme?” he asks you, pushing a lock of hair away from your tear streaked face. you nod sleepily, too exhausted to formulate words and he kisses your temple tenderly in understanding.

“didn’t realize you loved being used like a toy so much.” zoro teases and you tilt your head just a bit to frown at him.

“as if y’r any better..” your words come out slurred through your pout and he can’t help but release a hearty laugh at your willingness to bite back despite fatigue.

“ah, fair enough.”

;-; don’t look at me.

#roronoaswifey.exe #kazuha’s works 📂 #one piece #one piece smut #one piece zoro #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x you #zoro smut #zoro x reader #x reader

[lostgirlmuseum]

Bucky vs. Book

^Bucky on his way to you fr^

Summary: Bucky rushes to your aid when he finds out you’re upset. He’s never seen you this distraught before.

Pairing: Bucky x f!Reader

Words: 600 (I don’t think I have ever written something this short before wth)

Warning: It’s kinda angst?? But mostly fluff. 

A/N: Sorry I haven’t been on much lately, school is keeping me busy. I wrote this pretty quickly and it’s just a short little treat while I’m in the middle of writing a mini series. Idk when I’ll finish writing it, but it prob won’t be done this month. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!

Divider credit: @cafekitsune

“Bucky?” Sam asked.

“M’ busy.” Bucky mumbled, curling a barbell like it was a dumbbell.

“Someone just informed me they heard crying coming from your girl’s room.”

“What?” Bucky dropped the barbell on the ground with a loud thud. 

“Move, out of the way!” Bucky yelled, nearly knocking Sam over as he started sprinting to the gym exit.

Bucky ran so fast that he was bumping into walls and hitting corners, trying to locate the nearest stairs. 

He took the stairs by three, his heart hammering against his chest, his ears on high alert in case he could hear you calling for him.

Finally, he made it to your room, and swung the door open without a second thought, just needing to know if you were okay. Bucky’s wide eyes spotted you instantly, curled into yourself on the rug, tissues littering the floor, sobbing. He had never seen you so upset.

He wasted no time sliding onto his knees and to you.

“Doll? Doll, what’s wrong? What happened? Are you hurt?” He tried to lift your chin to see your beautiful face, but you barely acknowledged him, your puffy eyes cast down.

“My h-heart,” you choked, clutching your chest.

“Are you having a heart attack?” He couldn’t stop himself from sliding his hands all over you, checking for injuries.

“I feel– s-so sad,” was all you could make out between sobs.

“Baby, who hurt you?” He was panicking, he needed to know what happened, why you were so distraught so he could fix it. 

“Stupid book!” You cried, and flung yourself at him, holding him close, and tucking your head into his chest. Bucky immediately reciprocated, wrapping his big arms around you, squeezing you tight, one hand brushing your hair.

That’s when he noticed the outline of a book under a couple tissues.

“It’s not fair,” you cried, body shaking with each breath.

“I know, I know,” he soothed. He, of course, did not know, but he was enormously relieved to see the perpetrator was only a book. 

“They were supposed to end up together! They were p-p-per–” You squeezed him tighter, struggling to get the words out. “Perfect together! Why did the author ruin it? It’s not fair, it’s not fair, they deserve to be happy!” 

“Shhh,” he whispered, starting to rock you back and forth.

“It’s not fair,” you whispered through another cry, and collapsed fully into him.

“It’s not,” Bucky echoed.

Eventually your cries quieted and slowed, and Bucky kissed your forehead and let go of you. You barely had time to question what he was doing when he picked up the book from behind you and started to pretend to punch it. 

“Bad book,” he chastised, “you made my baby cry. Nobody makes my baby cry,”

You couldn’t help but giggle, and wipe the remaining tears from your eyes.

Bucky continued to scold it, and even positioned himself to body slam it.

“Bucky,” you full on laughed, “stop,”

“Not until it apologizes,” he grumbled, faking a chokehold on it. “Oh, shit–” Bucky rolled onto his back and held the book above him, acting out a struggle. “It’s got me baby, help!”

Giving in to his shenanigans, you leaned over and grabbed the book from his hands, and gave it your own weak punch. 

“Fuck you, book,” You sniffed and laughed.

“It can’t hurt you anymore,” Bucky said, patting your back. 

“Thank you, Bucky,” 

“I’ve got you, doll.”

“Why are there dents in all the walls?” Tony’s raised voice could be heard all the way from the floor below.

You looked at Bucky.

“What?” He smiled cheekily. “You needed me.”

Thank you for reading!

My Masterlist if you'd like to check my other stuff out :)

Oh oh and this is inspired by my reaction to Me Before You by Jojo Moyes. I hate that book so much. I love that book so much.

#bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky fluff #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic

[sinsandsweetness]

Please can u do a rickyl breeding kink. Like they see how she looks after Judith and it makes them want to take turns filling her up ❤️❤️

TAKING TURNS

(Rick & Daryl x fem!reader)

warnings- 18+ content, breeding kink obv, smut, creampies, FMM threesome, taking turns, mentions of getting reader pregnant, pregnancy and unprotected p in v. kinda fluffy and not rlly proofread…

notes- first time writing a breeding kink so… let me know how it is:) reblogs and comments are very much appreciated <3

Daryl nudges his friend, taking a sip of the bottle of water in front of him. “Quit starin’ .” He hisses, breaking Rick’s gaze away from you. Sitting all pretty, on a rug in his cell. Judith sitting right in front of you, a little, blue rattle keeping her attention as you talk to her. Your sweet, soft voice, mumbling quiet little praises at her. And she won’t stop grabbing for your hand or your hair or the rattle as she babbles away.

“M’not… staring…” Rick mumbles.

“I can practically see your dick getting hard. Pick your jaw up off the floor, yeah?” Daryl says, pretending that he’s not just as guilty. They both glance back over and rake their eyes over the shape of your body. The way your tank top cups your breasts, and your shorts hug your hips. And most importantly, how fucking attractive you are, smiling and blowing kisses at the 5 month old in front of you. How… maternal. It was driving both the boys a little crazy.

Daryl can’t help but imagine you holding his own mini me. A little boy with his eyes and your hair. And definitely Daryl’s attitude.

For Rick, seeing how good you are with his baby girl, it made his heart swell. Feeding her and playing with her, always being the one to know exactly what she needs. Seeing just how natural it comes to you. How he knows you’d be a good mom one day. How he wants to be the one to make you a mom one day.

“Like you’re any better.” Rick shoots back, his voice tearing Daryl out of his daydream. Both men still staring. And as you look over, they both straighten up. You wave the rattle at them and give a sweet smile, returning your attention to a talkative Judith quickly after.

“Fuck.” They both mumble in unison.

“It’s hard enough having no condoms around here. And then she’s gotta go ahead n’…”

“Make you actually wanna put a baby in her?” Daryl finishes Rick’s sentence for him. Whether it was what he was going to say, or just what he’s really thinking, it didn’t matter. It was true.

Ricks jaw clenches at the thought and he actually has to look away. The front of his jeans are all tight and his cheeks turn warm.

“She’s gettin’ a little fussy,” Both boys turn around to you walking over, holding a crying Judith. “Think she might need daddy to put her to bed.”

Rick has to bite his tongue at that comment. Taking his baby girl from your arms, and she seems to calm down fairly quick in his arms.

“Thanks,” he shifts Judith onto his hip and leans down to your ear to whisper, “You, uh… you stayin’ up or headin’ to bed?”

You smile at him all knowingly. “I could stay up if it means I get to see you a little longer…”

Rick nervously chews his lip and gives you a weak smile as he heads off to his cell, to calm Judith down and put her in her crib.

Daryl clears his throat and you turn to face him.

“What?” You kind of half laugh, as his hand starts playing with the hem of your shorts. “Nothin.” He bites back a smile. “Wanna get outta here?” He jokes, hand making it’s way up your waist, thumb brushing your nipple through the thin fabric of your tank.

“Um…” you look over, distracted by the curtain closing in the doorway of Rick’s cell.

“Hey, look.” Daryl grabs your attention and your hand, starting off towards your own cell. “He’s gonna be a minute. We’ll just get started without him. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

And he didn’t. Didn’t mind at all. Walking in on the two of you. Laying on your back, shorts already gone, with your legs wrapped around Daryl’s waist. An elbow by your face, propping him up so he could kiss you all slow and sloppy. Little grunts and moans falling from the two of you as he ground against you, nice and gently. The lace of your panties rubbing so deliciously in between your clit and his crotch.

“M- more-” you stutter, not realizing that you have extra company.

“Think that can be arranged, don’t you Daryl?” Ricks voice startles the both of you, turning to see him unbuttoning his dress shirt, knee dipping into the mattress, dangerously close. You swallow hard, lips all wet and swollen. Daryl’s shirt already peeled off and on the ground.

“One’s not enough for you is it, baby? Gotta have two cocks filling you right up. Ain’t that right?” Rick asks, leaning in for a hot, open mouthed kiss that you accept so graciously, hands going to the back of his neck and pulling him into the tangle of limbs on the squeaky bunk bed.

“Mhm.” You agree against his tongue, Daryl pulling at your panties and the two men take their turns. One kissing you, lips trailing down your neck and nipping little marks on to your breasts as the other fucks you so good and hard. And your begging for them as quietly as you can, hoping not to wake anyone up.

“What’s that? Gotta speak up, sweetheart.” Daryl tells you as Ricks dick pumps in to you at a harsh pace, a little whimper leaving your mouth before you can even answer.

“Want you- wanna cum.”

“I didn’t get quite that, did you?” Rick turns to Daryl, who’s biting his lip, trying not to laugh, “You wanna cum, sweetie? Or you want us to?”

“B-both please. Please.” You whine, grabbing onto both of their arms, grip tightening as you feel your orgasm begin to approach.

“Gonna fill you up nice and good, baby. Get you so full of cum, you won’t even know which one of us got you pregnant.”

And your eyes widen at Ricks words. Starting to shake your head ‘no’ but Daryl interrupts you with a kiss.

“Don’t you want it? Tell us how bad you want it, princess.” He orders against your lips. Demanding a price for your orgasm.

“Yes… I want it, Dare,” you whine, arching your back as Ricks tip continues to abuse your g-spot.

“You can do better then that.” He says, leaning back and admiring the sight of you getting absolutely railed. Legs folded to your chest, and your pearly, white juices dripping onto the sheets.

The sight makes his cock twitch and he thinks he could cum right there.

“Want it so bad. Want your cum, Dare. Want- uh- want you to fill me up, please.”

“Mmm, that’s better.” Daryl says, grabbing you by the foot and kissing the inside of your calf. Spreading you open to watch you get cream-pied by his best friend.

“Put- put a baby in me, Rick.” You whimper, eyes rolling back and you reach your climax. Feeling his own hips stuttering immediately, the comment clearly sending him over the edge. Burying himself deep in your cunt as he cums with a groan. Pulling out and switching positions with Daryl. A little grumble of, “I’m going first next time, asshole.” Coming from his lips, before he slides right into you. Giving you zero recovery time before he starts fucking you, the sound of your juices and Ricks cum, squelching and mixing, fills the air. And you can’t help but moan. Ricks thumb makes its way to your clit, rubbing from side to side as Daryl whispers filthy praises, telling you how pretty you’d look carrying his baby. How nice and pregnant you’ll be as soon as their done with you. And you go along with it, too fucked out to argue. Reaching another quick and shaky orgasm. Daryl following immediately after, plunging his own seed into you.

A sticky mess coats your thighs as the two start to get all dressed. A slight flash of worry on their faces in realizing what they actually did. Having come down from their highs, and thinking a little clearer.

You try not to laugh as the two of them chew their lips, grabbing a blanket and cleaning their dirty, little mess up from your thighs.

“What?” Daryl asks, noticing your shit eating grin.

“You guys know that I’m on the pill right…?” And you can’t help but giggle at their reaction.

As much as the the thought of getting you pregnant got the two men going, relief flooded their faces as they both leaned in to attack your cheeks with kisses.

“Some day though, right?” Daryl asks, hoping that your words earlier, weren’t just for show.

“Of course.” You peck both men’s lips, and pull on their arms, forcing them to snuggle up on the tiny mattress. They chat among themselves and trace little patterns onto your back as you try and fall asleep. Dreaming of someday, when a little Rick and Daryl will be running around and causing chaos in your future home.

taglist- @rickswh0r3 , @elnyrae , @catt-leya

(message or comment to be added💗)

#rickyl #rickyl x you #rickyl smut #rickyl x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes smut #rick grimes fanfiction #twd fanfiction #smut #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixion x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x y/n #rick x reader x daryl #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x daryl dixon x reader

[loveshotzz]

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap one/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

Welcome To The Neighborhood

—> chapter two

summary: There’s a Bandit on the loose.

wc: 3.6k

warnings: 18+ series for eventual smut, 12 year age gap, reader is 30 and Steve is 42 otherwise none for this first installment :) it’s a meet cute baby.

author’s note: Here it is! chapter one of this little slow burn series with your painfully hot and confusing older!neighbor!widower!steve. This story will take place over the course of one summer, told in mostly blurbs of your chance encounters and run in’s with Steve. This series will have lots of pining, flirting, mild angst and eventual smut. Most chapters will range from 1-2k each except for a few. I hope you guys like reading about these two as much as I liked writing it & I hope to see you back next Wednesday! 🥹♥️

Series Masterlist // Playlist // The tune:

End of May —

Highways and state lines blur together like the buzzing of cicadas into busy Chicago streets. A fresh start. A new life. No plan - that was the promise you made to yourself ten years ago almost down to the date.

The excitement outweighs the embarrassment of how long it takes you to parallel park the Uhaul when you find that one in a million spot in front of your new home. Your hands are numb from the constant battle between the wind and your steering wheel. The breeze from the lake testing your strength for the last hour of your drive. The machine creaks loudly when you slam it into park, your legs wobbling like jello when your converse hit the pavement and out of your truck.

The city hits your ears like the humidity on your skin. The exposed parts of your thighs stick together when the thick air wraps around you like an unwanted blanket. Taking a deep breath, exhaust stings your lungs. Far away from the only place you’d ever known, it’s comforting the feeling that washes over you. You didn’t come here with an agenda. A fresh start with nothing to lose. You came here just to be you.

It seems like everyone is on their way to do something, going somewhere they have to be. They brush past you without even a glance in your direction, air pods buried deep in their ears caught up in their own little world. The sounds of dogs barking mingle with cars honking and loud conversations from patio bars the next block over. The city is alive with summer hanging fresh in the air.

The trees that line both sides of your street are lush and green from the moisture. They drape over phone lines, weeping under the heat of the sun. Bumper to bumper cars from all kinds of walks of life make the one way street even smaller. Mini gardens in front of mismatched houses only inches apart. This was your new home.

The three story townhouse is covered in dark green wooden paneling, the floors split up into separate apartments, and you managed to bag the top floor with protruding bay windows. Dumb luck mixed with being on craigslist minutes after they posted, you found the one mom and pop place in the city that fit your budget.

The chipped black metal gate that blocks off the front steps lands at your waist, and runs as a property line against an even nicer house next to yours. One that looks like it belongs to someone, not rented out to a bunch of someones. The bright red brick looks new, and the dark wood steps and patio freshly stained. An oriental rug that matches the house has chew toys with missing limbs littering the front entrance. A porch swing faces you and it sways gently with the wind. Your eyes catch the silhouette of someone on the other side of the stained glass in the middle of the thick mahogany door, and it reminds you to stop being so nosy.

Keys dangling in your hand, you take your first steps through the gate. The metal groans loudly before slamming closed behind you. You jog up the less polished, salt worn steps to your front door and the faint sound of a deep voice catches your ears from next door as you jiggle the lock open. Crossing through the threshold of the entryway you’re not surprised when there’s no reprieve to the heat, but disappointed just the same as you pull at our tank top that starts clinging to your skin. You eye the narrow staircase that curves up leading to your apartment, immediately regretting doing this alone. 

It takes you less time to unload than it did to load up, at least that's what you tell yourself as you round to the back of the open trailer. Sweat is slick against your skin and you thank yourself for keeping the previous owner's couch even if you thought it was an ugly shade of green.You stare pointedly at the four heaviest boxes left and you swear they mock you while you try to catch your breath from pushing your mattress to your room. The words ‘winter clothes’ scribbled sloppily in bright red marker make your face twist up.

“God dammit,”you breathe out running the back of your hand across your forehead trying to rally. Your A/C was already in the window and the cool air inside becomes your motivation.

You aren’t expecting the abrupt shove forward or the feeling of paws on your butt, sharp nails digging into the soft material of your shorts. Then you hear it, his voice.

“Bandit! Bandit - no! Down!”

Your hands hit the metal of the trailer stopping your fall under the weight of what you’re now realizing is an over excited fully grown German Shepherd. Pink tongue out with spit flying everywhere, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you when you turn around and he starts sniffing all over with a tail that wags a mile a minute. High pitched whines leave him when he realizes how much he wants you to play, but he accepts the scratches you offer behind his ears just the same. Body wiggling while also trying to stay still.

“Hi buddy!” you coo, your voice instantly slipping into the embarrassing one you only use for animals.

That’s when you see him. 

He has a few years on you, that part is obvious with the pepper that spots the sides of his honey colored hair and the scruff that lines his sharp jaw, but it only makes him look better. His broad shoulders are wrapped up tight in a white undershirt, the thick cotton telling you it was the kind that cost more than your phone bill. The black shorts he wears have a hem high enough to almost be inappropriate when you swear you see the outline of what’s underneath. The Nike swoosh near the slit at the top of his hairy thighs. His shoes match the color of his shorts, the On Cloud symbol etched on the side flashes in the light. Two hundred dollars on just his feet. 

The trained muscles in his arm flex when he runs a hand through his hair, catching the stray that flops over his forehead when he comes to a halt in front of you. The bright red leash clutched in his fist matches the color of his cheeks. Big hazel eyes meet yours after lingering on your curves a little too long, making you realize you’re showing off just as much skin as him. Clearing your throat, you tug at the bottom of your yoga shorts, willing them to grow just an inch longer with cheeks burning and not because of the sun.

“Sorry, I have a bad habit of getting him excited before I leash him up. I swear he’s friendly, are you okay? He didn’t scratch you or anything right?” 

You’re too distracted by his hands to comprehend his words, tendons moving under taut skin as he hooks Bandit’s hardness. The heat, the move, and the man all getting the best of you.

“Hey -“

His voice brings you back to reality, his brows furrowing over perfect features when he looks at you with genuine concern.

“Yes! Sorry, I’m fine. Honestly! I love dogs. The move in the heat, I think, I think it’s just getting to me.” You smile doing your best to calm the worried look on his face, and you swear you see him flush deeper because of it.

It’s his turn to clear his throat, left hand flexing like he’s looking for a ring that isn’t there. The skin is a lighter shade than the rest of him like there used to be. There’s a beat and an awkward silence before he finally notices the mostly empty trailer behind you. 

“Looks like you’re almost done though, top floor?” He questions rocking on his heels a little, pointing over his shoulder to your window. Your A/C is already dripping water onto the pavement.

“Yeah! You live in the building?”  Please say yes.

“Me? No.” He coughs a little uncomfortable, while you fight to stop the disappointment from showing on your face. “I umm, I actually live next door.” He winces, almost like he’s embarrassed.

“Anyway, sorry about Bandit. Your boyfriend is probably wondering where you’re at.” You don’t miss the way he assumes with a secret hope he’s wrong hidden behind the mossy greens of his eyes. 

“Probably,” you pause, ego boosting when you see him squirm, “If I had one.” You giggle and you hate the way your hips twist a little. 

That’s when he does it, he smiles, with all of his teeth. It’s just as blinding as it is contagious, and it makes your skin tingle, giddiness dripping from your limbs. It’s short lived though, like pieces of a puzzle clicking together you watch it disappear. It’s replaced by the same concern from before only with a new layer of disbelief.

“Wait, honey, who’s helping you move in then?” He looks at you stunned like he can’t fathom the answer he knows you're gonna give.

“The same person that drove here - me.” You grin a little proud with your chin pushed up and it makes his lips twitch, the same smile from before itching to come back.

“Let me at least help with these last few.” He peeks behind you, eyes scanning over your messy writing, “They look like they might be heavy.” 

He teases you just enough to earn a roll of your eyes, but the grin on your face makes him huff out a relieved laugh. Nerves like a first date twist in his gut when he sees the way you look at him from under your lashes.

“I mean, if you insist…?” you trail off, fishing for his name. 

“Steve, sorry! It's Steve, Steve Harrington.” He runs one of his big hands through his hair again, a nervous tell of his you pick up on instantly, before offering it out for you to take.

“I don’t think I caught that, can you repeat your name one more time for me?” Biting your lip into a smile, he narrows his eyes playfully, cheeks blooming, flustered from your words.

Sliding your hand into his, it disappears completely when he wraps his fingers around yours. The softness of his palm is warm like the sun that beat down on you all day and it sends electric currents running through your veins, heart thumping loudly in your chest and you wonder if he can hear the way he can hear it. Minutes pass before either of you make the first move to let go, or at least that’s what it feels like. It’s not until Bandit whines at your feet that Steve finally caves.

“Let me go put him back inside real quick, it’s still a little too hot out anyway and I’ll help you bring the last of this up, tough girl.” He winks with the kind of casualness that makes you question whether you saw it at all and you have to hold in the sigh that begs to slip past your lips.

“I’ll be waiting,” your voice cracks, your confidence slowly disappearing like the sun behind the hazed skyline. 

You try to cover it up by swooping down to give Bandit a kiss between the eyes. Only it backfires, making it worse when you realize how weirdly personal that was to do to someone else’s dog, despite the more than pleased wag of his tail.

“That - that was, oh god. I don’t know why I kissed your dog like I knew him. Or you. I’m - I’m sorry.”  You pinch the bridge of your nose, embarrassment rolling off of you in waves.

It’s not until you hear his laugh, and god is it pretty too, that you finally look up.

“It’s understandable, he’s a handsome guy.” Steve smirks with flirty eyes and it makes you dizzy. 

You can’t stop your giggle, the back of your hand doing little to hide your smile from him. Butterflies breaking from cocoons in your stomach as you watch him walk away to that big house right next to yours.

“What exactly do you have in these boxes?” Steve grunts as he follows you up the narrow staircase with two in tow despite your multiple warnings. 

“Winter coats, sweaters, maybe some boots...” you trail off trying to think, your disorganization more than evident when you open up your front door to even more boxes and bags spread out in disarray.

“You packed your coats and your boots in the same box?” His voice is muffled behind cardboard as the cool air hits, sending goosebumps across sweat-kissed skin. The low hum does something to dull your nerves when you work up the courage to turn around and finally face him. 

“Maybe! Who knows, I’ll find out tonight when I open it.”  

He huffs out a breathy laugh as his broad shoulders almost brush the sides of your door frame. Stepping one expensive sneaker in front of the other into your more than humble apartment, there’s a fleeting moment of regret about taking him up on his offer when your eyes dart around the mess. 

“Where am I puttin’ this boss?” His eyes meet yours from around the side of the boxes, playfulness filling the greens and browns like before.

The muscles in his arm flex when he re-establishes his hold on the box, the sleeves of his shirt getting tighter and the whites of his knuckles start to show. The simple brown leather band of his watch strains, and it makes your throat dry up.

“Ummm.” You shake your head, willing your brain to regain its normal function as you start a clumsy walk towards the direction of your bedroom. “We can put them in my -“

Your shoe hits something hard and you don’t have enough time to realize what’s happening until you're already on the ground. Palms flat against the scratched wooden floor and a sharp pain in your ankle. The culprit, an already half opened box labeled KITCHEN you must’ve left in the hallway when you got distracted by something else.

“Jesus, are you okay?” Steve sets the boxes down, pushing them against the wall and out of the way raking his hand through his hair again, it must be a stressed habit too. 

“Yeah, yeah, my ego is a little bruised but I think I’m gonna survive.” You try to smile, but only end up wincing when you go to push yourself up.

“Here, let's get you on the couch, let me take a look.” He doesn’t wait for your reply, both of his hands coming out to you in an offering. Stubbornness losing for once, you take them.  

He lifts you up like you’re weightless, moving you around with ease as he tucks you into his side. His fingers wrap around the curve of your hip to steady you. He’s warm, the pine of his body wash mixing with the spice of his cologne and it surrounds you in a strong hold. It's a short trip to your couch, his abs moving with each step, and you secretly wish it took just a little longer. 

He’s gentle when he untangles himself from you. Soft palms on your elbows to hold your balance as you sit down. There’s a hint of his aftershave that hits your nose as your muscles melt into the softness of the cushions, the day quickly catching up to you. Eyelids going droopy.

“Sitting was a mistake Steve,” you groan with a light stretch of your limbs, and another subtle wince.

“Well good thing you conned me into helping you with the last of your boxes then.” He waits a second before meeting your eyes as he pulls one of your many boxes over to sit on, his lips twisting up when he sees the way you scoff. 

“Conned you?! You practically begged me to let you help.” Your head bobs with attitude dripping from each word and it makes him grin. He nods furrowing his brows like he’s hearing you, but despite the limited time you’ve spent with him you knew whatever he was about to say was just going to egg you on more.

“I mean, if that’s what you need to tell yourself sweetheart. I remember it a little differently.” He can’t hold in his laugh when you roll your eyes hard at him trying to ignore the newest nickname.

His knees brush against yours when he finally takes his seat, the hem of his shorts rising higher, running tight against the muscle of his thigh. The cinnamon hair that covers his legs tickles you while the sun hits your bay window with just the right light to reveal an expanse of freckles and moles you didn’t see before under his five o’clock shadow and across the bridge of his nose. God, he’s handsome. 

His eyes catch yours like he can hear your thoughts, and for a moment you wonder if he actually can.

“Do you mind?” The teasing edge is gone, his eyes a little more soft when the tips of his fingers tap against your leg.

Your voice is lost in the shift in energy, static filling in the air between you when you shake your head ‘no’.’’ His touch is feather light when his fingers wrap gingerly around your ankle bringing your foot to his lap. He makes quick work of your laces, using extra care when he pulls off your shoe. The pad of his thumb rubs over the bruising bone and you notice the way he licks his lips.

“Does this hurt?” He applies a little bit of pressure to the spot just below your calf, his gaze making you nervous as he gauges your reactions.

“No,” it comes out a little breathless and he exhales deep through his nose because of it.

“How about here?” He does the same thing as before, only this time closer to your heel and you wince. “There it is,” he hums to himself, rubbing soothing circles as an apology.

“Like on a pain scale of one to ten, I’d give it a three and a half or four” you tell him, when really you’re too proud to admit it’s actually a five.

“Three and a half? You can’t use that. Solid number only,” he scoffs meeting your eyes from under his lashes, the forest inside them turning black.

“I actually think I can do whatever I want,” you laugh incredulously, your toes wiggling under black socks in his lap.

“I guess it is your house, I stand corrected.” Steve admits defeat with an exaggerated sigh before showing you his teeth in a wide grin, his thumb still rubbing circles because it never actually stopped. “Do you have an ice pack?” 

Your finger drums against your bottom lip as you think about everything you had packed, his eyes fixated on the way you lightly pull it down with each tap.

“I don’t remember and if I’m being completely honest I don’t think so.” You look sheepish when you admit your lack of first aid supplies to him.

He chuckles lightly, hot breath fanning against your skin with a shake of his head.

“I think I have one, I’ll grab it and bring those other two boxes up. Keep your foot elevated for me tonight tough girl. Unpack your chaos tomorrow.” He mocks the way your jaw drops at his teasing.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were tryin’ to take care of me Steve.” The joke is innocent, at least that’s what you thought. 

Something clicks behind his eyes, the warmth draining from his smile when it falls. His brows furrow and he won’t look at you anymore, his thumb stops rubbing those circles, and your foot is placed gently back on the ground. He’s standing up faster than you can catch your breath, faster than you can comprehend.  The energy shifts to something distant and the warm summer is replaced with frigid winter. He clears his throat with glassy eyes scratching the back of his neck, and you have no idea what you did.

“Hey I’m sorry if I -“

He cuts you off before you can finish.

“You didn’t do anything, It’s me - look, I’m just gonna go get those things. I’ll leave it at your door, please just elevate your foot. You should be okay by tomorrow.” He doesn’t let you respond, long legs taking him out of your place and leaving you to wonder what you did wrong. 

Your head lulls against the back of the couch, staring fixated on the old popcorn ceiling of your living room for what feels like twenty minutes as you replay everything back. Over analyzing his tones and body language coming up empty every time. This was going to drive you crazy.

There’s three raps on your front door, one coming down hard followed by two quick knocks. When you stand up this time, it hurts less, more true to the pain level you gave him as you slightly hobble to answer.

When you open it, your two boxes are stacked where he promised. A dark blue ice pack with a yellow sticky note that says:

beta’d by @superblysubpar 💕 (also made the cute post it for me 🥹)

dividers by @newlips 💗

chapter two

#my wrtitng #all i really want is you series #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington slow burn #steve harrington fanfiction #older!steve #steve harrington x y/n

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Congrats on 5k my dear you deserve it!!!! <3

My humble request is a lil angsty, [Reader] passing away unexpectedly (accident maybe idk) and leaving their child in Simon’s care whom he didnt know existed until then. Child is probably 2-5 years old maybe. Angsty, bittersweet Simon coming to terms with fatherhood, where it goes its up to you!! <3

Also if it feels this can be more than your current limit to two page request celebration then feel free to ignore it! ^^

—Supposed To Happen

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [You died and left him a child he had no idea existed. How can he even begin to try and understand?] ❞

He watches his child as they play in the living room with one of the blankets from the couch, his hands digging into the skin of his biceps. 

Simon didn’t know what to think, and that resulted in a panic that could only be seen in his unblinking eyes. So much had happened—so much gone wrong in so little time there wasn’t a moment to process before the next problem jumped on his already heavy shoulders. 

You were dead. 

Dead. 

And he’d had a child this entire time and had never known about it. 

Why hadn’t you told him? Why hadn’t you said anything? None of this made sense to him—even hours after he’d taken this small toddler back to his flat, Simon���s body was quivering under his clothes; indiscernible to anyone but himself. He felt nauseous. 

He wasn’t ready to be a father. Even normal civilian life was…difficult to fall back into. And that was putting it lightly. 

A child. His child. Flesh and blood.

Blinking slowly, the man hadn’t said a word as the child no older than two grabbed at the fabric with its tiny hands—raising it up and down to watch the material wave. Small cut-off giggles stab Simon in the heart and he has to look away firmly as his jaw clenches. It is a bone-deep fear that he holds like a brick in his lungs. 

“Fucking hell,” he breathes out, a hand coming up to rub over his face. Simon wasn’t wearing a balaclava—too afraid he’d scare the little thing. 

The last thing he needed was for them to cry.

“Fucking hell,” Simon repeats, slower and more harshly. 

He was a soldier—a killer…a father?

Simon hadn’t picked the child up after he’d last set them down on the floor, his hands gloved because of the blood he was afraid might be under the stitching; the stain that can never come out. 

A father? No, no he can’t be a father. Not now. Not…not after…

Tiny hands grasp at the material of his pants and he tenses, flinching back two quick steps. The mini body that had been attached to his leg stumbles, tripping on air as the balance it had disappears. 

Wide brown eyes stare tightly, face blank of any emotion as a small silence falls when the thump of little knees meeting the rug makes Simon’s ears twitch in remorse. 

Sniffles result in the man panicking. 

“No, no, no,” he utters, stepping closer with his hands raised as the toddler’s limbs move to their eyes, tears making their way to the floor. “Hey, d-don’t cry. You’re alright, Kid? Yeah? You’re fine.” 

Simon clears his throat as the crying continues—seemingly growing louder as his eyes move about the room. Seeing nothing, and locking with the grabby hands that are leveled up at his face, the soldier shoves down his fear and hesitancy grasps the child. 

Picking it up, he holds it to his chest, whispering quick pleas under his breath. 

“You’re fine.” He paces the room, slow heavy steps trying to make him ease his doubts as the thing grips at him, sniffling. “You’re just fine, eh? I’m begging you, little Devil, ease up on it. I’m right ‘ere.” 

Simon had a child. You were dead. He had a deployment in one week and a stack of paperwork to update. But he can’t leave his kid alone—no, no that was never an option. 

Family meant sticking by one another, and now…this one was the only family he had left. Brown eyes move downward to where the tiny being rests on his pec, his large hands splayed about to keep it secure—one on the little head that puffs breaths now that the tears have stopped.

When had they stopped? Simon didn’t know; he didn’t know the first thing about being a father.

He takes a deep breath of air, filling his lungs with oxygen. The shaking of his hands slowly settles as the minutes lengthen, letting his mind move back to the state it usually was in. There was so much to do—to try and understand. Truth be told, most of it would be shoved to the back of his fractured mind like the rest, but here, now…Simon grunts, keeping his child close to his heart.

First, he had to go buy baby food.

#cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #cod mw22 #x female reader #mw2 #call of duty x you #mw2 2022 #cod simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #cod simon riley #simon riley #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #cod x female reader #x fem!reader #cod mw #cod mw2

[impishjesters]

jax with a fem! rabbit reader pregnant of his litter of 6 bunnies (3 boys and 3 girls) and everything went well with y/n and the lil bunnies who are at the moment blind, hairless and deaf...

warning(s): it's honestly just some soft new dad Jax note(s): Since they aren't actual bunnies I didn't really include the blind and deaf part, but they are very much hairless. They are baby-sized though, I blame a fanart I saw once with Jax and his lil mini-copy babies and had to draw inspo from it. Also not mentioned but Jax was just being a lil shit, some of the kits do take after you. A/N: You can't tell me Jax (even as a joke) wouldn't try and name his kids after himself in some horrible manner.

Exhaustion still rang high even after a quick nap, popping out six babies would do that to you you suppose. You’d caught a decent glimpse at all the kits when they were cleaned up but once everything was done and clean and you were taken care of, you conked right out.

You woke to hushed whispers and a few cries, no doubt one of the kits being fussy. If anything you are amazed Jax has kept them so quiet—that or you were in a deep sleep. Probably the latter.

“Who’s being fussy?”

Jax mumbled a silent ‘fuck’, he didn’t mean to wake you, even if it wasn’t directly him who woke you. “I got ‘em, babe, you just rest.” He scooped up the fussy kit in question, giving them a gentle rock to try and soothe them.

“They’re probably hungry..” You moved to sit up and Jax rushed over to shove pillows behind you. “Hand ‘em over…”

He hesitated, so far it was just the one, but if they kept crying it was only a matter of time before the others did too. Jax carefully handed the kit over and simply watched you begin to breastfeed like it was nothing—not that you didn’t have practice with someone on your—

“I can practically hear you staring at my chest.” You gently ran your finger over the kit’s cheek while they fed, finally having a moment to really look over your little munchkins.

They looked like an exact copy of Jax, sans the thicker coat of fur, but you already knew they’d have to grow into it. Lightly tinted lilac skin and cute little ears tucked away, and if their eyes were opened there was little doubt they’d also have his eyes. “I carried these suckers for months, don’t tell me they all look like you.” You teased.

Jax snickered, perching himself on the edge of the bed to watch the two of you. Fuck, he was not prepared for just how beautiful you looked with his offspring. Sure you looked amazing when you were pregnant, that big ol’ belly was something he could see you wearing again in the future, but now? There was something breathtaking about seeing you holding a baby, his baby. And there were six of those little boogers.

“Sorry toots, these handsome genes are just too strong.” He ran a hand over his head, swiping his ears back before they sprung back up.

“Ugh,” you groaned, “that would be my luck. At least I didn’t get rug burn.”

The two of you share a quiet giggle at the joke before the kit pushes away from your chest. You burp the kit and not a moment after Jax takes them from you, laying them back down with their siblings.

“So I know we were struggling for names… and since they all took after me. I thought we could name them all after me.”

Coming up with six names had been a difficult task, but you did have a list—he was just being a little shit for the sake of seeing you smile.

“We are not naming our kids ‘Jax’.” You know he’s kidding but that doesn’t make the image any less scary, or stupid. Imagine Christmas with six little Jax’s and trying to differentiate all those damn presents.

He scoffed playfully. “Nah, there can only be one Jax. I was thinking Jaxson—” you let out a snort, “then there’s Jaxica, Jaxcella—”

“We are not naming them like that, oh my god.” Jax sat beside you with a playful pout and threw his arms carefully around you. “There will be no Jax-themed naming, at least give me one thing since they all look like mini yous.”

“Fiiiiine..” he groaned. “Guess I could be persuaded to let you name them all.” You lay your head on his shoulder, looking up at him curiously. “For a kiss.”

“Really? Our children’s names are on the line for a kiss? Avoiding years of future bullying by having the same Jax-themed names all boils down to one kiss?” What a goober. “You drive a hard bargain. Deal.”

The smile on your face is all he really needs, seeing you exhausted and stressed earlier made him annoyed for you. The nurses were stupid and making you more stressed than you needed to be—being a pain in your ass was his job, not theirs. Hell, he nearly decked someone earlier for upsetting you.

You nudged your face against him, he’d spaced out, and if you knew this man you knew he was no doubt thinking about something unnecessary. “Whatever it is isn’t important.”

“You’re very important, and so are those six little wrinkly nuggets.” he huffed. Leaning down he kissed you, it was gentle and sweet, like he was afraid of hurting you. Cute.

“That’s right I didn’t get to see, was the doctor right?”

“Three boys and three girls.”

You let out a groan, picturing all the future sit-downs and explanations you’d have to give to the girls and boys about heaven knows what. “You potty train the boys, I got the girls.”

“Deal.” He quickly spat out.

The two of you sat there quietly, just watching six little chests rise and fall until Jax cleared his throat catching your attention.

“I know it’s a ways off, but wanna really embarrass the kids by you giving the boys the sex talk and I’ll give the girls the period talk?”

You slapped his chest with your free hand, the other coming up to stifle your laughter. “Oh my god, you are awful.”

“I’m not hearing a no.” he hummed.

“We’ll see, periods can be embarrassing and sensitive I don’t want you—”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m not actually gonna be a dick, sheesh… I’m wounded you’d think I’d mess with my own kids—”

“You would.”

Jax pouted, giving you a little playful shake before dropping the topic as a whole. Yeah, he’d definitely prank his own kids—but that wasn’t until later on, he had to soak up all this cute baby shit for now.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x reader #jax #jax x reader #tadc jax

[wroteclassicaly]

Pairings: Eddie Munson x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, smut, NSFW, and vaginal sex!

A/N: Idk what this is, but I came up with it last night, so here you go. I miss posting (I’m working on stuff, though), and I figured I’d just go with the flow of this mini drabble idea. Love y’all! ❤️

Eddie sneaking into your window at night, because he’s woken up and he can’t stop squirming, needing to have you now. He usually opts for knocking or using the spare key you’d given him, but he kind of lost it in the mess that is his room (it’s buried under campaign idea sheets), and it’s late. His van is loud as it cruises down your street and finds your residence, his cock already aching in his black sweats. He’s fucking freezing, the only thing keeping him warm beside his sweats is a cut off white crop top with a faded Marlboro label (a shirt of Wayne’s he was given and made his own), his boots are halfway on and unlaced, making him nearly trip as he hobbles to your bedroom window and does his expert lock picking thing. It’s comical to try and clamber through a window with a raging boner.

He hisses when he successfully gains entry, latching the window behind him, then kicking off his boots to warm his toes in the comfort of your rug. Your form is curled around your pillow, your breathing even and steady. You look so fucking soft, so ripe. Eddie wants more than a taste. He slips easily out of his sweats and his shirt, boxers halfway down his hips, too painful to get off.

Eddie’s ring clad hand slides up and down your quilt covered side, sheets rustling as you slowly turn, his voice immediately easing your worried confusion. Those plush lips that taste like fresh cigarettes and cinnamon find your temple, kissing just lightly. “Mhm…? Eddie?” It’s a stifled whimper, an appreciative yawn. “What time s’ it?” You mumble.

With every letter you speak, Eddie is that much closer to losing it, the ache twisting in his gut. He’s beyond desperate, already peeling your layered blankets back and climbing in behind you, rolling his hips into your backside, cold hands finding hovering purchase on your tits beneath your shirt. Still the gentleman, he’s questioning you. “Can I? Need you so fucking bad, sweetheart. Drove over here in the sleet and rain just to have my girl and my sweet little pussy.”

Beyond the cove of your slowly awakening mind, arousal throbs between your thighs, making you arch into Eddie’s hands, whimpering when the wind soaked digits cool against your hot skin. A series of curses die in your throat, a gasp the only thing that escapes. Eddie’s hands pinch your nipples, tugging them into hardened peaks, continuing to rut into you, his boxers damn near sliding off his hips.

“Oh, fuck. You came all this way in shit weather just to do this?” You always sell yourself short, according to Eddie. Aside from the best lover you’ve had, he’s also your hype man/boyfriend.

You can practically feel his frown, his movements briefly halting, lips readying a kiss for your neck. When he speaks, it’s a warm gust of air on your ear, causing you to push your tits further into his palms. “Do what? Do—“ He dips his pelvis and drags his hard dick directly over your ass, making sure you really feel all of him through your sleep pants, before continuing. — “this?”

“Fuck. Help me get my pants and panties off, please.” You’re salivating, feeding off his energy, cock drunk and desperate now too.

Eddie has his boxers down over his ass and your pajama bottoms, complete with your soaked panties— off in seconds flat. His voice is still so raspy, wind bitten, his fingers finding your jaw as one hand leaves your shirt, tilting your mouth to his for a kiss. You help him maneuver your legs together, yours stretched back over his, the hair tickling the backs of your knees. His smell is surrounding you, fresh from his nightly shower, aftershave present, rainwater, and cigarettes from his crumbled pack. He’s breaking away to question you, blown pupils shaving off any remaining color in his irises. “Condom?”

You shake your head, forgoing the box you’d kept in your drawer. “Not tonight.”

Eddie slides inside you with ease, smacking your ass, grateful there’s a silhouette of a snowy sky and nearby street lamps framing your entire set of activities. He’s nosing into your neck, commenting on your request. “This your way of asking me to cum inside you, sweetheart?”

“I want it so fucking bad, Eds. Show me why you woke me up, baby.”

You wouldn’t care if it was sex or not. With how much you love Eddie, he could barge in later than this to show you a potato chip he’d taken a bite out of and you wouldn’t give two fucks, but you would admire, because he’s Eddie. And he’s all yours.

#kristenwrites #my work #my writing #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #stranger things 4 #stranger things #stranger things 4 smut #stranger things 4 fanfiction #stranger things 4 fic #stranger things smut #stranger things drabble #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fic #stranger things fluff #eddie munson

[afewproblems]

For the prompts #39 things you forgot to say and number 23 things you were forced to say steddie hurt/ comfort

Thank you for this combo - I hope I’ve done it justice but my hand slipped and this got long and it got sad…so I apologize in advance!

“Shit!” Steve hisses, wrenching his face away from the open oven door as a cloud of hot moist air rushes out, he wipes his face with the free hand not holding the oven door handle. 

“You good man?” Robin laughs from where she’s perched on the counter, her dangling legs swing joyfully back and forth. 

“Peachy,” Steve mutters, grabbing a hot-cloth to pull out the baking tray, he shakes the mini pigs in a blanket around to dislodge them from the foil before putting the tray back onto the middle rack, “put on another fifteen would ya?” he says over his shoulder to Robin.

She snatches the little blue egg timer from beside her thigh and twists it to the appropriate time before placing it back onto the counter. 

It's not the only snack he's prepared, granted to call it preparation would be a bit of a stretch. He had grabbed chips and pop, beer, and juice -just in case, that afternoon. It wasn't as though he hadn't needed a grocery run, and the most intensive snack was now baking in the oven, it wasn't all out, not really…

“Going all out I see,” she hums with a quirked eyebrow and a growing smile.

Steve smirks, ignoring the heat that blooms across his cheeks and ears that has nothing to do with the open oven door. She knows exactly what he's trying to do and who it's for. 

Eddie had somehow, after everything, burrowed his way into their lives and never left. 

And it was nice, he had a wicked sense of humor and warm brown eyes that made Steve's heart quicken in a way he couldn't quite explain. 

He and Robin had talked it to death in fact, analyzing each small moment, each lingering glance or touch that had occurred between them over the last few months since Eddie had been discharged from the hospital.

Steve had even begun hanging out with Eddie alone, invited along for movie nights in the new Munson trailer. 

***

“Come on,” Steve scoffs as he throws a handful of popcorn into Eddie’s face from his side of the couch, he laughs as Eddie meets the projectiles with an open mouth, “Han Solo Harrison Ford could totally take out Indiana Jones Harrison Ford, no contest!” 

Eddie snorts and shakes his head sagely, “Oh Steven, sweet Steven,” he takes a long drag on the joint between his fingers and blows it out through his nose, “you forget about Rick Deckard! The trenchcoat alone man!”

“Who?” Steve says as his face scrunches into a slight frown, he gestures for Eddie to pass the joint and takes a long pull before coughing roughly as the smoke hits his lungs, it’s been awhile since he’s actually smoked but, ah well, when in Rome.

Eddie grins and launches into an explanation of something called Blade Runner and the pros and cons of the retelling of something about electric sheep? He vaguely remembers the title on the Hawk Theater marquee, but he was also pretty sure that was the year he and Patty Campbell made out while The Thing played in the background, so he must have missed it. Steve feels himself drift away, slightly lost as Eddie continues to speak, he watches the way the metal-head’s hands fly around - emphatically gesturing as he lists his points. He’s so pretty like this, his eyes bright and his dimples on full display--

Oh. Oh shit.

The familiar bubble of warmth blooms inside his chest and travels up, spreading into his hands and dusting his face with a light pink that he hopes is obscured by the dim light in the Munson living room. Shit.

“Family video should have it, we’ll pick it up for next time,” Eddie hums, he reaches for the joint, letting his fingers brush Steve’s own and it feels like sparks dance along his skin. 

Oh, double shit.

Eddie suddenly sits up straight, his legs slide off of the couch and onto the floor, nearly toppling the ashtray on the rug. 

“I mean, not sure when we’ll get around to uh, to doing that though you know?” Eddie says quickly, keeping his face trained on the ashtray below as he drops the roach into it. It bounces once and hits the carpet prompting a low groan as Eddie scoops it up before the ash can stain. 

“With Hellfire I mean, I don’t,” Eddie swallows, he looks at Steve once before dropping his gaze back to the floor, “you know how difficult it can be to schedule the kids and then with trying to find a place to host everyone--”

“I could have you,” Steve says, the words leap from his mouth loudly with little to no thought, “I mean, I could host,” he says quickly, his ears feel as though they’ve been engulfed in flames but he presses on, “Hellfire I mean, you know, if you want?”

Eddie’s head tilts slightly as he finally turns to look at Steve once more, his large brown eyes flick back and forth between Steve’s own before he grins and clears his throat, tucking a handful of curls behind his ear. 

“Alright Big Boy, I’m preparing to be wow’d,” Eddie says as he leans back against the arm of the couch once more and brings his feet back up, stretching towards Steve - just shy of his thigh. 

Steve can’t help but beam at Eddie, even as his heart hammers at a mile a minute, he  leans into the ratty couch cushions as casually as possible, “Nothing but the best for his highness,” Steve murmurs as he points his face back towards Harrison Ford on the television screen. 

He calls Robin as soon as he gets home that night, it’s late, nearly midnight, but she still takes his call - much to the disapproval of her parents. 

Thank God for Robin Buckley.

“When are you going to get your own line Robs,” Steve huffs once Mrs. Buckley finishes scolding him for the late hour, he’s lucky she bothered to even get Robin for him but Steve has managed to ever so slightly charm Mr. and Mrs. Buckley over the last year or two. He’s fairly certain they think he and Robin are dating, but if that’s the case they haven’t said as much.

“Not all of us are rich you dick,” she yawns into the receiver, “now spill it, what's so important that you’re calling this late?”

“I..I think,” he swallows, the silence on the other end of the line makes the words stick in his throat, “I like someone, uh I’m kind of freaked out about it Robin…”

"You like Eddie, you mean?" Robin says, so matter-of-factly that Steve almost drops the phone, he scrambles to keep ahold of it, “Steve?” Robin’s confused voice floats out of the receiver in soft tinney tones as he brings it back up to his ear.

"How did you--”

“You’re not exactly subtle dingus, plus you had a crush on me before so I’ve gotten pretty good at seeing when you’re mooning over someone,” she says with a laugh in her voice, it finally manages to pull a small grin out of him.

Steve groans, pressing the heel of his hand into his left eye until stars flash in his vision, “What the hell am I going to do Buckley? I’ve offered my place to host Hellfire”.

“Why on earth would you do that?” She hisses in exasperation. 

“It just came out!”

She sighs and it crinkles in his ear like static, “Well then,” she hums after a beat, “we’re going to need a game plan”.

***

Steve shakes his head slightly, and winks at her, "You know everything I do is to impress you Buckley," he snarks back, flipping the oven door closed with a snap. Steve grabs a discarded tea towel from the counter to wipe his hands before he stretches the fabric out into a lax bridge between his hands, he spins the towel suddenly and whips it out to catch at Robin's jean clad knees.

She squawks and leaps away from the counter with a wide grin, "asshole," Robin says affectionately, snatching the makeshift weapon away from him.

She wanders over to the fridge, popping open the door and leaning down to inspect the shelves. Robin huffs out a breath, "I don't think I've ever seen this many drink options outside of a literal vending machine," she turns slightly to look over her shoulder, "not impressing anyone my ass". 

Steve rolls his eyes, ignoring the flutter of nerves in his chest, it wasn’t the first time he had hosted the kids for a game night but this was the first time for the rest of the Hellfire group and the first time Steve would be meeting Eddie's friends and bandmates.

It shouldn't be as nerve wracking as it is. 

"Is it too much?" he asks lowly, crossing his arms over his chest, it had been Robin’s idea after all to cater to their stomachs, as the old saying went.

Robin stands up with a can of coke in hand, she cracks the tab and sips it, her eyes never leaving his face, she stares contemplative for what feels like an eternity before eventually rolling her eyes. 

"Nah, as much as it pains me to say, I think it’s pretty perfect,” she tips the can towards him as if in a toast, “plus, if he still hasn’t caught it yet I'm sure you'll have to really spell it out.” 

Robin gestures towards the fridge with a wry smile, "perhaps using the bountiful drink selection you have for us".

Steve snorts and feels his chest slowly begin to unclench, "don't tempt me Bobs" he mutters under his breath.

A shout and chorus of groans and, 'what the fuck man's’ ring out from the living room where the group have set up, Steve snorts at the mutinous tone in Mike's voice which carries farther than any of the others.

"Better get a move on with the snacks, the mob is getting restless," Robin says sagely before grabbing a handful of chips from a nearby bowl.

Steve swears if he rolls his eyes harder they'd fall out, but he grabs two bowls and makes his way over to the swinging door connecting the kitchen to the dining room.

The sounds of arguing increases, as Steve steps over the threshold, he smiles fondly at the sight of the kids. Will has his face in his hands, he's seated cross legged in one of the dining room chairs, Lucas is seated next to him with an arm on his shoulder, his eyes volley back and forth watching Dustin and Mike snarking at each other. 

Mike is standing, leaning over the table and gesturing emphatically at the plastic mat draped over the wood surface of the Harrington dining room table. 

It had belonged to his maternal grandmother and had been collecting dust since Steve had been old enough to reach the stove, old enough to be left on his own while his parents traveled for work.

At least now it was finally being put to good use, maybe not as Nana Marino intended, but Steve didn't think she would have minded. 

Dustin stands as well and picks up a small model, thrusting it into Mike's face, "look me in the eyes and tell me you think that's a good plan," he snarls as Mike swats at Dustin's hand, the plastic goes flying as Mike's hand connects. 

"Hey, hey," Steve shouts as Dustin pushes Mike away by the shoulders, "break it up, Jesus Christ you two". 

He sets the snack bowls on the table, ignoring the huff from Lucas who immediately moves them off the mat. 

Steve rolls his eyes as he bends down to grab the discarded figurine, it's a tiny…dwarf? At least that's what Steve thinks, he's sure that Dustin has told him his character's name and that the word dwarf has been used a few times that night, but he's unsure -and the spotty paint job does nothing to make it clearer as he holds up the model to his eye line. 

"Whatever Steve, you don't get it, Dustin is being an asshole-"

"Me?! You're the one-" 

Steve blows out a sharp whistle before bringing his hands up to form a T shape, "Time out, Jesus, where is your mediator, your Dungeon Man?"

"You know that's not what he's called," Mike grumbles under his breath while Dustin scowls and points to the sliding glass door to the backyard. 

Steve nods and pockets the figurine, ignoring the loud, 'Hey!' that Dustin bites out as he wanders towards the door.

"Relax, you'll get him back when you can guarantee no one's going to have him jammed down their throat," Steve calls over his shoulder with a smirk.

Steve slides open the glass door and steps out into the cool evening air. The sun has set but the last hints of pink and periwinkle paint the horizon, bathing the yard in blue twilight. Steve hears voices from around the corner of the house and the unmistakable smell of cigarettes floats his way as he steps closer. He's about to clear his throat, announce himself, when he hears his own name. 

"So what's up with Harrington?" The first voice says, Gareth, Steve thinks to himself, he blinks at the tone, it's curious if a little…teasing?

"What about him?" Eddie says, a lighter clicks in the background before a short pause. The smell of tobacco blooms once more, stronger now than before. Steve settles against the wall of the house, it's not right to eavesdrop -he knows that, but he can't help but wait, his feet rooted alongside his mothers rhododendrons.

"I mean come on, how is it that King Steve is hosting us in this fucking 'McMansion'," another voice says sharply, Jeff, Steve thinks, ignoring the small wave of hurt at the old title. 

"It's just…,” there’s a pause, “kinda weird man," Gareth says quietly. Gravel crunches and for a heart stopping moment Steve thinks he'll be caught, "I didn't think you were friends?" 

Steve presses himself into the wall, willing himself to move, to run back to the house as quickly and quietly as he can, but he can’t seem to move, he holds his breath as Eddie speaks.

Eddie snorts, "You think I'm friends with a guy like that?" 

The words hit Steve harder than he thought they would, cutting into his chest, settling in alongside, Bullshit, and, Asshole. They curl together and sink into his skin like a bruise.  

"It's okay if you are Eddie," Gareth tries again, a soft grunt joins the words, and Jeff mutters something in begrudging agreement.

Eddie laughs. 

He fucking laughs.

"You guys are hysterical, he's friends with the sheepies, and yeah he offered this house, why wouldn't we want to take advantage of it?"

Right.

Steve nods to himself, letting the last threads of hope tear apart, he slips away from the wall as quietly as possible and makes his way back to the sliding glass door, grateful he left it open, silently making his escape.

He closes it as quietly as possible and considers latching the door for a brief moment before scrubbing his hand roughly over his face. 

That was the old Steve talking, the one who would have locked the doors and kicked everyone out over something as trivial as someone not wanting to be his friend. The one who rejected others before they could reject him first, who wrapped himself in barbs and venom and sneered at people who were unapologetically different. Like Eddie.

But Eddie wasn't just someone, and Steve hadn’t been King of anything for a long time.

And, unless Eddie had forgotten, Steve was fairly certain they were friends, or at least it shouldn’t have been a completely unfounded thought that he and Eddie were at least on some kind of friendly terms.

Steve shakes his head and swallows the newly formed lump in his throat. 

He always did this, his heart ran ahead of his head and got itself hurt, again. At least this time he hadn’t made a complete fool of himself.

Steve sighs and tamps down the wave of hurt that sweeps through his chest, he shoves it into a corner, into a little box on its own, and shuts the lid. 

It was fine, he was fine. 

The kids have settled down at this point as Steve walks back towards the dining room table. Mike is laughing at something, Will's face has been removed from his hands and Dustin and Lucas are indulging in handfuls of chips from the bowls Steve had brought out earlier. One is nearly empty and at least Will has the good graces to look sheepish as he spots Steve walking in. 

"Sorry Steve," Will says with a soft smile, as he grabs the bowl to hand over, "We might have gotten a little carried away". 

Steve smiles but it's tight at the edges as he reaches out to take the bowl, he can feel Will's eyes on him as he moves to the other side of the table towards the kitchen door, "don't worry about it little Byers," Steve mumbles mostly to himself. He misses the worried glances that Will and Dustin exchange with one another as he walks back into the kitchen. 

Robin has left her perch on the counter to stand beside the oven, magazine in hand, she doesn't look up as he walks in and places the bowl on the counter. 

Robin looks over at the egg timer with narrowed eyes, "five more minutes, wanna have a look at em?" she hums as she puts the magazine on the counter, a picture of the Charlie's Angels graces the cover.

He shakes his head and grabs another bag of chips for the kids to put out, Steve resists the urge to pinch his nose --Robin knows him too well at this point to miss such a gesture. 

He clears his throat, "I'm sure they're good Robbie, let me just bring more fuel for the goblins out there". 

Steve meets her gaze for just a moment, her eyes narrow at him now and trace over his face. He rolls his shoulders, shaking off her stare and turns on his heel as Robin opens her mouth to say something, he beats her to the punch, "You stare any harder, you're going to turn into the Terminator scanning me like that Robbie”. 

It works for a moment, throwing her off kilter just enough for him to escape to the dining room as a laugh tumbles out of her open mouth.

The older boys have rejoined the group as Steve makes his way to the table with the refill, Dustin makes grabby-hands at the bowl which Steve hands over with a roll of his eyes. 

Jeff is seated next to Dustin, his eyes trail after Steve but his expression seems neutral enough for the moment. Gareth sits in between Will and Lucas, his gaze resting pensively on the figurine in his hands, he looks up when Steve enters and a small friendly smile slowly blooms, it settles Steve - just enough to allow a small smile back. 

Eddie stands on the far side of the table, where a binder has been propped up to block his notebooks and dice, his arms are crossed tightly across his chest and his shoulders form a stiff line. He’s frowning slightly at his books, if he sees Steve walk in he doesn’t acknowledge it.

 Steve's chest tightens at the sight, he gathers up the second wave of hurt and sweeps it away once again, latching the lid of the box this time.

How the hell did he read this so wrong? Where was the Eddie that shared in private jokes, leaning over to share an aside to Steve that was just for them, the one who called him Stevie and slung a warm arm around his shoulders as they watched bad movies late into the night.

Had he done something, Steve wonders? Something to piss Eddie off tonight? 

He wracks his brain, sifting through the events of the evening but nothing comes to mind. They had barely said two words to each other before Eddie had disappeared while Steve and Robin were cooking in the kitchen.

So where was this coming from?

Lucas leans over the mat on the table to snag another handful of chips,littering crumbs over the crudely drawn map and character models, Eddie tisks loudly and leans over to blow away the crumbs.

"You always get the best snacks man," Lucas says brightly through his mouthful to Steve, “and maybe even, make the best ones?” 

Dustin, Will, and Mike all turn expectantly to Steve, Dustin and Will with open hopeful expressions and even Mike has removed his perpetual scowl to look at Steve with something closer to begrudging anticipation.

“Yeah, it should be done right away here, gotta keep you assholes well fed before you go out and terrorize Waterdeep right?” Steve 

"Since when does King Steve know D&D?" Jeff asks with a laugh, his eyebrows crease together incredulously and he and Eddie share a look. 

“Jeff,” Gareth mutters at the same time that Dustin says, “I’ve been trying to convince Steve to play with us for ages but--”

“Pfft, Harrington? Play Dungeons and Dragons? I’d know if Hell had frozen over Dustin,” Eddie scoffs as he sits down roughly in his seat behind the binder, from where Steve is standing it obscures Eddie's face before he leans back in the dining chair. 

Right. 

Steve nods once and clears his throat before turning away from the kids, he avoids Dustin’s gaze which burns into the side of his face, “I think the timer is about to go, I’ll uh, be back in a sec”.

He walks swiftly in three strides towards the door, letting his foot catch it as it swings open with a thunk. 

“What the fuck Eddie,” Steve barely hear’s Mike’s muffled words through the closed door as he walks towards the counter and snatches the hot-cloth from where it lay next to the timer. They offer little comfort as he wrenches open the oven door.

“Steve?” Robin says softly, she’s using her wounded-bunny voice that he absolutely hates. He ignores it and the way it makes his chest clench again, the box is getting too full for this. 

“Steve,” Robin says again, she reaches out to touch his shoulder but he keeps moving and grabs the pan from the oven. A few of the pigs in a blanket are burnt, the dark brown, almost black, singing on the edges mars just of a few of them. 

It’s the last straw of the night. 

“Fuck,” he snarls, slamming the tray onto the stovetop with so much force that one of the pigs goes flying, he winces as it hits the floor. 

Steve bends in half to grab it, ignoring the sting as the hot pastry and meat connects with his fingers. He tosses it into the sink with a muffled metallic thud. 

“Jesus Steve,” Robin hisses at him, her eyes dart back and forth between his face and the closed kitchen door, “what the fuck happened in there?”

“Nothing Robin, just drop it,” Steve growls as he wrenches the cupboard open and takes out a large plate. He can’t do this now, not while everyone is still here.

“Steve?” a small voice says from the door, Dustin slowly walks into kitchen, approaching the pair of them like wild animals, “I wanted to--”

“Oh shit, right,” Steve says, deflating as he remembers. 

He takes a deep breath and exhales slowly through his nose before pulling out the small dwarf model from his pocket, Steve tosses it over to Dustin who just manages to catch it. 

“Sorry man,” Steve mumbles with a shake of his head as he schools his expression into something flatter, more neutral, “completely forgot about him, if you want to wait a second I’ll get these on a plate you can bring them over to everyone--”

“No, Steve--”

“I think we have mustard in the fridge and maybe a little relish left, I’m not sure what all goes with these guys,” Steve mutters, crossing to the fridge, he opens the door and sticks his head in.

“Steve--”

“Or what everyone else likes, um, you know what, just take all of these,” he sighs, gathering up the bottles and jars in his arms, he brings them over to the counter beside the plate and brings his foot back to kick the fridge door closed once more. 

Steve turns off the oven and haphazardly tosses the remaining pigs onto the plate before turning around to Dustin and Robin. Dustin’s face is pinched and red, his mouth cast into a deep troubled frown, while Robin scowls with narrowed eyes but the smallest hint of worry seeps through. 

“Anyway,” Steve mumbles, avoiding their gaze, “don’t destroy the house, just let me know when you go, and I’ll lock up”.

Steve sighs again and sweeps his hair away from his face, “I think I’m just going to go lay down for a bit, migraine,” he says, lifting his hand to gesture towards his forehead. 

It’s not even a lie, a steady ache has been building behind his eyes since he overheard the elder Hellfire members talking in the yard. He tosses the cloth in his hands on the counter and turns to the main hallway to head upstairs. 

“Have fun,” Steve says softly before sweeping away down the hallway. 

Steve makes it about halfway up the stairs before he hears light foot-falls on the carpet behind him, he glances over his shoulder to see Robin following silently. 

She’s still looking at him with an irritated scowl but her worried blue eyes undercut the ferocity he’s sure she is going for, Steve sighs and continues climbing, knowing she wouldn’t listen to him even if he told her to go. 

Steve opens his bedroom door and flips on the light for them, wincing at the sudden brightness, he closes his eyes and walks until his knees hit the bed and lets himself fall gracelessly onto the mattress. He hears Robin wander over to the desk lamp, turning it on with a small snick, she crosses the room again and flicks off the ceiling light before closing the door and joining him on the bed. 

“So,” she hums, prodding him roughly between the ribs with a rigid pointer finger, Steve jolts and makes a muffled squawk into the covers, “are you going to actually tell me what’s wrong or are you going to take it out on more pork products?”

Steve rolls over slowly onto his back before bringing his lower lip up to chew on. Robin’s eyes grow softer the longer he takes to speak, he has to tell her. 

“I was wrong Robin, we were wrong, he practically hates me,” Steve whispers to the ceiling, he feels her shift on the bed beside him, inching even closer. 

“Eddie??” Robin whispers as she reaches out to place her hand firmly on Steve’s chest and rubs a soothing circle over his heart, “you-- no, that’s not true”.

“I overheard him,” Steve says eventually, he clears his throat and reaches up to wipe his eyes which have begun to sting, damn migraine, “outside when I went to grab them, they were talking about me”.

Her hand freezes and her fingers clench into his sweater, Steve reaches up to gently pry her hand away, he offers a firm squeeze of her smaller palm. 

“What did he say Steve,” she whispers, her eyes dart over his face, as though cataloging each small change in his expression. 

Steve chews his lip again, this time, keeping a careful lock on the words before they tumble out, “just leave it alone Robbie,” he says softly, “I just want to forget this ever happened”.

Steve turns over onto his side, pillowing his head under his arm. He scootches over to make more room for her.

Robin hesitates for just a moment, turning towards the door with fire in her eyes, before Steve tugs on her hand, stealing her closer, down beside him.  

Robin sighs as she curls up, she reaches over with her one free hand and pokes his chest again, hitting him square in the sternum, “he didn’t deserve you anyway, he’s your Tammy Thompson,” Robin says shrewdly, nodding once to herself, “and my villain origin story,” she mutters after a beat, under her breath. 

Steve closes his eyes and nods silently, the words are meant to be comforting, he knows, but what little balm they contain do not help with the ache deep in his chest.

Steve opens his eyes as Robin kicks at his foot, probably harder than she means to, she at least has the good graces to look sorry. 

“I mean it dingus,” she murmurs, “I wouldn’t lie to you, and us single losers have to stick together after all”.

Steve laughs brightly and pulls her closer, letting himself bask in her warmth.

She wasn’t wrong, at least they had each other, and maybe, for now, that was enough.

You can read Part Two Here

#afewproblems writes #afewproblems answers #platonic stobin #Robin is a great friend #hurt and comfort #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #One sided Steddie #This went in such a completely different direction that I was intending but #I do hope its still enjoyable #and maybe we're going to have to see what the heck Eddie is thinking because that kid has some splaining to do #Hurt Steve Harrington #Robin is not afraid to throw hands #Gareth is trying to keep the peace #this got so long somehow #also #this prompt was so hard to conceptulatize #so I really hope that the things that Eddie forgot to say and the things that Steve was forced to say were relatively clear!

[masonmountconcepts]

imagine on ur honey moon you surprise him with a pregnancy test and he gets all soft like 🥺🥺🥺 like wdym we're having a baby???🥺 like my baby??? and ur like yeah mason who else put this baby in me 😭

okay i had sooo many thoughts about this so i made it into a mini imagine <3 send me some others i can write thisss

“babe? you ready out there?” mason glanced at his watch then back to the mirror at his own reflection, tutting at his tie loosely dangling round his neck, completely unravelled once again, as he fixed his appearance for the fifth time over. for the last night of the honeymoon, mason reserved a table at one of the quietest yet delicious restaurants in the town centre — but little did he know you had your own plans for the night.

plucking up every ounce of courage you’ve got, you finally pulled yourself from the deck chair, dog-earring the page in your book, and slipped through the gap in the sliding door. mason kept a watch out of the corner of his eye and, with hardly a toe in the doorframe, he darted his head around, completely abandoning his tie — as it felt like the whole world was fading, leaving behind you, and only you, in all of your beauty. the cherry blossom colour and the white hemming of your dress, homage to your big day, complimented perfectly with your hair, and matched the jewellery of choice around your fingers and wrists. your sandals had heels, tall enough so it was easier to kiss him, but not so much it hurt his ego too hard.

you walked to one another and met in the middle of the bedroom rug, noticing how the other raked their eyes along your figure and took their time over each and every piece of you, blushing your cheeks this crimson shade, as your lips spread far into your cheeks, and for mason, his dimple started to form on the side of his mouth.

his hands found your hips almost immediately, melting into the delves in your body like they were made for his touch, and your fingers gripped around his biceps, the muscles contracting to a relaxed position and weaving the material of his shirt between your fingertips. “my wife is beautiful,” he puffed a sharp breath through his lips, making you giggle and mutter your thanks underneath your breath. mason dipped his head down to your height and rubbed his nose round in a circle against the blush on your cheeks, then peppered the sweet spots of your jawline in kisses — but, mason being mason, like a hawk, he could sense when something was up. especially when you didn’t react like you usually would, either pushing him away or mocking his useless attempt at a tie. you felt his body tense, and he leant back to get a thorough look of your face, one which was performing its best impression of ‘perfectly fine’ right about now.

you dropped your gaze to your feet, but his eyes still burned holes into the side of your head. “what happened out there? is everything okay?” he gave your hip a gentle squeeze, one to encourage you to speak, but also his own sign to you he was there, no matter what your problem happened to be — but you dropped your hands from his arms, letting them dangle in front of your stomach. and it was then his heart sunk and he took a step back, his fingertips still grazing over your hip on one side and you jinxed yourself into feeling a slight tremor of his hand against you.“baby talk to me. please?”

“can we sit?”

he nodded and guided you with one hand to the edge of the bed, yet throughout all of that, mason was oblivious to your right hand behind your back and out of his view. once sat, his hand landed on your thigh and his fingers squeezed around it, trying to settle your nerves again by stopping your heel from tapping against the floor — but he was clearly nervous, and could not hide it, as his hands shaking was even more obvious.

you puffed out a shaky breath, your chest rising and falling heavily, and you brought the box onto your lap. “i may have been keeping a little secret. since the wedding night, actually” you chuckled, but he couldn’t find the amusement. “but for our last night here, i think now is the perfect time to tell you this— also i can’t keep this to myself for any longer.”

you nudged the box onto his thigh, and mason lifted it with the most gentle of hands. now, all of that concern he initially picked up on in your eyes was out of your system, passed through to him in his gentle touches on your body. he was a bag of nerves, thinking he was hiding it well but evidently not by his shaky hands pulling at the blue ribbon to unravel the thread, his stomach churning in knots as he did so.

you watched his face, and you could pinpoint the moment all of the stars aligned — the dots connected, the puzzle took its shape — and everything clicked together. his shaky hands clutched the test in his fingers, and that look in his eye was so serious it was frightening. “is this— are you serious?”

you giggled nervously, hoping to lighten the mood a little, then scooched closer, rubbing your knees together and giving his thigh a squeeze. up this close, you spotted his watery eyes and slight quivering bottom lip. you nodded and sucked in a shaky breath — then and there, every worry left him, and in its place, his smile that could make anyone weak at the knees.

mason practically rugby-tackled you onto the bed, the baby growing in your stomach slipping his mind, as he just wished to hold you. his arms were so tightly wrapped around your frame, his fingers indenting into your arm as he lay just above you. he started with your cheek, his lips hardly leaving as he kissed over your skin, and you couldn’t do anything but shake your head to get away from his puckering lips.

“we’re having a baby,” he mumbled close to your ear amongst his kisses, before finally allowing you a moment to breath and kneeling on his forearms planted either side of your body. he stretched out his fingers to reach you, stroking the tips along your cheek, “you’re really carrying my baby— our baby.”

your lips tipped up at the corner into a smile, “well— who else would have put it there?” and he shook his head, but his rolling eyes were unable to hide that lovable smile of pure joy. his hand slipped up your sundress and held it on your chest, before leaning down to your stomach and kissing at the small bump forming. or more like a food baby right now.

your fingers combed through his locks, and you almost got lost in the sweetness of this moment.“you’re going to be the best daddy mase.”

#mason mount #mason mount blurb #masonmountconcepts #mason thoughts 🫧

[mamawasatesttube]

How about 35: "It's just a headache, I'm fine."

With Tim taking care of Kon after he overused his TTK?

A sliver of light falls across the floor from the hallway as the door starts to open. With the haze of pain fogging up his entire brain, it's barely enough warning for Kon to remember to croak out, "Don't."

Tim stops, hand falling away from the light switch. "Kon?"

Even the idea of lifting his head from the balled-up hoodie he's using as a pillow is agonizing, so Kon opts for the world's most pathetic peace sign. "Sup."

"What are you doing?" Tim slowly closes the door again, at least; the darkness is blessed relief from the stabbing pain behind Kon's eyes at even the faintest light. "Why are you on the floor?"

Kon squeezes his eyes shut, ignoring the way Tim is definitely scrutinizng him in the dimness. His brain is probably doing that BBC Sherlock thing, tagging and analyzing his pained body language, the way he keeps pushing his thumbs into the pressure points just below his eyebrows, the tension in his shoulders. Tim would hate it if he described it as a BBC Sherlock thing, of course; that's why Kon keeps doing it.

"It's just a headache." His voice is a little too breathy from pain to be dismissive, but he tries. "I'm fine."

"You could've gotten in the bed, at least." Tim sinks down next to him on the rug. "What caused it? Are you hurt?"

"Fuck, Rob, not so loud," Kon groans, rubbing his temples. "Ugh. S'nothing. Overdid the TTK holding all those skyscrapers up for so long this afternoon, that's all. And bed sounded too hot."

Tim is quiet for a moment. "You never told us that gives you migraines."

"Never seemed to matter." Another wave of agony throbs behind his eyes, lancing straight through the deepest parts of his skull, and Kon swallows down a whimper. "It, ugh, it happened way more when I was freshly hatched. Now s'not all that... frequent."

"You being in pain always matters to me," Tim says softly. He lets out a breath, quiet even in the silence of the room, and shifts his weight slightly; Kon can hear the rustle of his clothes. "...Can I get you something? Is there anything—you came to my room for a reason, right? What do you need me to do?"

There's an undercurrent of desperation in his voice, barely there, but readily apparent to anyone who knows him even half as well as Kon does. He hates being helpless, hates seeing anyone he loves in pain, hates not being able to fix it. Kon smiles wanly, opening his eyes to look up at him; it doesn't hurt, not too bad, since the room is so dark.

"I'm in your room 'cuz you have the best blackout curtains in the whole Tower," he says honestly; even in this state, he doesn't miss the way Tim's shoulders droop slightly. "But... if you could get me an ice pack—no, two—that would... that'd be pretty rad."

Tim's on his feet before Kon even finishes his request. "Yeah, of course, I have plenty—" and then he's off like a shot to the mini-fridge in the corner, pawing through the freezer in the dark like a raccoon. Kon hides a wince; his ears are too sensitive for even the slight crinkling and cracking of the ice, and nausea churns in his gut.

But then Tim's back, and in his hands are two blessedly cold packs, wrapped in cloth to make them easier to use.

"God, Rob, I could kiss you," Kon tells him, pressing one to the back of his neck. It's instant, if not total, relief, and he lets out a low moan as the agony spearing through his temples starts to ebb out into the chill. After a second, he presses the second one over his eyes. Fuck, that's so much better...

"Do you need anything else?" Tim asks, hesitating. "I can get you some tea, or a blanket—no, you said it's too hot, um—do you want a sleep mask? Or I can—"

Kon reaches up, grabs one of his hands, and hauls him back down to sit on the rug. It takes a mildly herculean amount of effort, but he lifts his head next, scoots over, and places it on Tim's thigh, so that he can tuck his face (and ice pack) into his stomach. "Shut up," he mumbles, "and just... stay."

If it's too cold, or uncomfortable, Tim makes no indication. He just lets out a soft, "Oh," and then, to Kon's delight, threads his fingers tenderly into his hair. "...Is this okay?"

If his touch was a little more direct, if his gentle caresses were any faster, it'd be too much. But as it is, it's helping, and if he stops anytime soon, Kon might cry.

"Better'n okay," he answers, and despite his migraine, he smiles slightly against Tim's shirt.

#necer0s #rimi writes #timkon #you sent this one and i went oh FUCK YEAH #because of how the reason im in agony soup currently is! chronic migraines! for which i am being denied my meds >:( but HEY #PERFECT PROMPT for me to cope with B) #tim #kon

[clarepreed]

Practice

Story Summary and Content - 4,834 words. As promised, Holly teaches Ginnie CPR. Semi-explicit sex. 🏳️‍🌈

Previous installment: First Date.

--

“I really like your place.” Ginnie stood in Holly’s living room, eyeing the exposed brick and large windows. “Though I bet it gets cold in here in the winter!”

“It does.” Holly slipped her arm around Ginnie’s waist. Ginnie was wearing a soft, long tank top and a pair of leggings, and she felt nice pressed against her. “I have a lot of blankets. Was it a long trip on the bus?”

“Only because I was impatient.” Ginnie turned into Holly and tipped her face up to the light.

Holly dipped her head, pressing her lips to Ginnie’s. She ran her fingers into the silk of Ginnie’s hair and heard her make a soft noise of satisfaction. When they ended the kiss, Ginnie’s eyes traveled across Holly’s face and her hand came up tentatively to rest over Holly’s heart.

“The bruises are all gone?” Ginnie asked, her voice soft.

“Faded away. Nothing hurts. I feel normal.” Holly arched an eyebrow at Ginnie, her tone light despite the serious nature of the conversation. “What about you?”

“I’m fine. I take my beta blocker like I’m supposed to and go to my cardiology appointments. Everything looks fine. She said I probably won’t be on those forever.” Ginnie leaned her head against Holly’s shoulder. “I’m supposed to get regular exercise, so I started running again.”

“I can help you get exercise,” Holly said, her voice wry.

“That sounded dirty.”

“I mean…”

Ginnie giggled. “Are we going to practice now?”

Faint heat spread across Holly’s cheekbones, but she grinned and nodded, gesturing at the items laid out on the coffee table. She’d laid out gloves, first aid supplies, different types of ventilation barriers, and a borrowed Laerdal Mini Anne mannequin. “I thought we would make use of my fluffy rug. I vacuumed it for you.”

She watched, both surprised and endeared, as Ginnie kicked off her shoes and dropped onto the rug on all fours, her hands splayed out in the fluff.

“I approve,” Ginnie said, laying down and then rolling onto her back. She brought her arms up, tucking her hands behind her head. “This is great.”

“Um.” Holly kneeled beside her, then leaned over Ginnie, carefully sweeping her blonde hair back. Then Holly planted her hands on either side of Ginnie’s head. “I’d like to kiss you.”

“Please, do…”

Holly leaned closer, her eyes taking in Ginnie’s facial expression. Everything was still so new; Holly was afraid to rush her. But Ginnie seemed relaxed, her eyes slightly unfocused at this distance. Holly kissed her. Their lips felt nice together. Ginnie’s were soft, her mouth sweet.

“Is that official first aid procedure?” Ginnie asked when Holly pulled back. Her mouth curled in a sweet smile. “Or do I get special treatment?”

“You get special treatment.” Holly moved one of her hands to Ginnie’s shoulder. “So, this is actually a good place to start. We can go over the recovery position and your ABCs.”

“I learned my ABCs a while back,” Ginnie said, raising her eyebrow and grinning.

“Not those ABCs, silly!” Holly squeezed Ginnie’s shoulder, then traced her collarbone with her thumb. She smiled down at Ginnie, then tried to school her expression to something more serious. “Hey, listen. If at some point anything upsets or bothers you, just tell me and we will stop.”

Ginnie nodded earnestly. She had a faint scattering of freckles across her cheeks. “You, too, Holly.”

“I promise. Ready?”

“I’m ready.” Ginnie pulled her hands out from behind her head and put her arms down by her sides. “Rescue me. Or show me how.”

Holly squeezed Ginnie’s shoulder. “So, if someone is unconscious, you wanna start by trying to get their attention. You can tap them, call their name loudly. I’m not gonna demonstrate because I don’t think you want me to yell in your ear.”

“That’s accurate,” Ginnie said, grinning.

“So if they don’t respond, this is where the ABCs come in.” Holly put on her best instructor voice. “Do you know what that stands for?”

“Oh! I do remember that! Airway, Breathing, Circulation!” Ginni’s cheeks grew pinker the longer Holly leaned over her.

Holly brushed her knuckles against Ginnie’s cheek. “Right!”

“I know how to open an airway,” Ginnie said. Her face took on a mildly anxious look, and she turned her gaze off to the side. “At least, I don’t think I made it worse…”

“You were perfect,” Holly said, quick to reassure her. She put her hands to Ginnie’s forehead and her chin, gently tipping her head back. “Can you feel that? I bet it’s easier to breathe.”

Ginnie took a deep breath and relaxed, her face in Holly’s hands.

“Yes,” Ginnie breathed. “It’s like… yoga. Meditation. I would probably fall asleep if we stayed here like this.”

“I’m going to look, listen, and feel for signs of normal breathing,” Holly leaned her ear toward Ginnie’s mouth. “For ten seconds. Is it okay if I put my hand on your chest?”

“Yes!” Ginnie squeaked out, her skin flushing pink. Holly moved her hand from Ginnie’s chin to her chest, resting on the skin above the neckline of her top. Ginnie’s breath quickened, and Holly could feel her pulse beneath her palm. Thump-thump! Thump-thump! Thump-thump!

“Our patient is breathing,” Holly said. “So we want to put her in the recovery position.”

“Go for it.”

Holly huffed out a laugh and nodded. “Alright. So I’m going to take your arm that’s closest to me and cross it over your chest. Then I’m going to take your leg closest to me again, and bend it.”

Ginnie’s hand was cool to the touch when Holly grasped it, crossing Ginnie’s arm over chest and laying her palm on her shoulder.

“Are you cold?” Holly asked, rubbing her hand up and down Ginnie’s arm.

“I just have cold hands. And feet.” Ginnie laughed. “But yours are warm!”

“Well, let me know if you get cold.” Holly gently bent Ginnie’s leg at the knee. Then she reached for her shoulder and hip. “Then you turn your patient on their side. Make sure their hand stays up by their mouth. Um… like a little vomit ramp.”

“Ew! Really?” Ginnie asked, struggling to stay still as Holly rolled her. 

Holly adjusted Ginnie’s hand, then leaned back, resting her hand on Ginnie’s hip. “Yeah, sometimes people barf, and it can be very bad if they inhale it. Anyway, that’s the recovery position. If you haven’t already called 9-1-1, you wanna do it now because if your patient is still unconscious there’s something wrong. And then you just make sure they continue to breathe.”

Ginnie pushed herself up and turned toward Holly. “Thank you. Could I practice? On you?”

“That’s the idea!” Holly laid down on the rug, smiling up at Ginnie. “Then I’ll grab the mannequin. And maybe some wine? I have to clean her after, anyway.”

“That sounds nice.” Ginnie took Holly’s arm. “So, I fold your arm across your chest like this… Then I bend your knee.”

Holly tried to keep herself limp, her limbs putty in Ginnie’s hands. She allowed Ginnie to roll her onto her side and felt her adjust the placement of her hand. Ginnie had petite hands that she moved delicately, her touch soft.

Ginnie leaned over and pressed a kiss to Holly’s cheek. “You are recovered.”

Holly grinned and moved onto her back. Ginnie looked down at her, face frames by a curtain of hair. Holly reached over and laid her hand on Ginnie’s knee. “Good job. Kiss me for real?”

The kiss was sweet, heating up as Ginnie laid her hand on Holly’s side, her fingers wrapping over her ribcage. Holly let her lips part and Ginnie deepened the kiss, reaching up with her other hand to rake her hair out of her face. A moment passed, or several. Holly wasn’t sure. Then Ginnie broke the kiss and said: “I want to kiss you, but I also want to learn CPR.”

“Okay,” Holly said, pushing herself up onto her elbows. “CPR now, kissing later?”

“Yes, please.” Ginnie blushed often, Holly realized, and she was doing it now.

Holly moved onto her knees, pausing to ask: “Would you like some wine? White, since we’re about to make out with the mannequin?”

“That sounds great. What kind?”

“I have a dry Riesling. Would that be okay?”

“I have no idea,” Ginnie said, shrugging. “I trust you. I am still pretty new to wine.”

“It’s good,” Holly said. “You can stay on the floor. I’ll be right back.”

Holly hurried through retrieving and opening the wine, her eyes flicking periodically back to Ginnie. The other woman had her arms wrapped around her knees as she eyed the small CPR mannequin on the coffee table. Ginnie looked so sweet and pretty to Holly, sitting there with her spine straight and her hair loose, her petite features serene.

Holly poured wine into each glass and then pushed the cork back into the bottle. “I hope you like it!” she called out, bringing the glasses into the living room. She handed a glass to Ginnie and watched her sniff the contents. 

“It smells good,” Ginnie said, before holding the glass out toward Holly. “Cheers?”

“Cheers!” Holly clinked her glass against Ginnie’s and took a sip, watching Ginnie expectantly.

Ginnie slipped from her glass and nodded enthusiastically. “Oh, this is good!”

“Awesome!” Holly drank some more wine, then sat her glass on the table, reaching for the mannequin. She sat it on the floor, just past the edge of the rug. “So, this one is especially odd-looking, but it was easier to get on the bus. And cheaper to replace if something happened to her.”

“Her?”

“Not everyone’s nipples are in the same place!” Ginnie exclaimed, laughing.

“Her name’s Anne. Poor Anne is always in cardiac arrest. Anyway, I know you said you took a class before, but I’ll go ahead and show you what to do.” Holly scooted over next to the mannequin and got into position. “So, they used to tell people to follow the nipple line, but—”

“Exactly! So you’re feeling for their breastbone. Their sternum. You want to stack your hands like this…” Holly interlocked her fingers and placed the heel of her hand on the lower half of the mannequin’s sternum. “Straight arms, shoulders over your hands. Want to try?”

“Yeah, thank you.” Ginnie smiled at Holly. “This is not so bad. Anne’s kind of silly looking, and it makes it easier to not be scared.”

“I’m glad,” Holly said, scooting a few feet to the side to make way for Ginnie. Then she guided her over the Mini Anne mannequin, one arm around her shoulders. “Yep, leaning forward like that. Good placement for the hands. Now, aiming for a two-inch depth, you want to push down.”

“Two inches, two inches, two inches,” Ginnie muttered, then she rocked herself over her hands and the mini mannequin made a clicking sound. Ginnie rose up and then rocked into her hands again. “I like that clicking sound! So I do thirty of these and then two breaths?”

“Actually,” Holly said, leaning back to give Ginnie some room. Ginnie kept compressing the mannequin’s chest, a rhythmic click emitting each time. “Current bystander guidelines—that’s what you are, a bystander—are for compression-only CPR. The exception would be for asphyxiation, such as drowning. Then yes, thirty compressions to two breaths.”

Ginnie, who’d been pumping away while Holly spoke, stopped and looked with wide eyes over her shoulder at Holly. Her voice came out in a shocked whisper. “Holly… Oh, but Holly…”

“Oh!” Holly exclaimed, immediately realizing what the problem was. “You did the right thing, Ginnie. You didn’t hurt me. They only switched to compression-only CPR because so many people took too long to switch back and forth, or refused to do CPR at all because they didn’t want to do the breaths. You did a good job, Ginnie. Thank you.”

Holly reached out and rested her hand on Ginnie’s back, rubbing in a slow circle until Ginnie nodded and looked back down at the mannequin.

“Was I going at the right speed?” Ginnie reached for her wineglass and leaned back on her heels. “I was singing a song in my head.”

“‘Staying Alive’? Ha! Yeah, you did a great job. I am not certified to certify you, but if I could, I would.”

Ginnie took another sip of wine, a thoughtful expression on her face. After a moment, she said: “I expected ‘Circulation’ to involve checking for a pulse.”

“Pulse checking is above your pay grade. But I’ll show you anyway.” Holly sat her wineglass on the coffee table and stretched her hand out toward Ginnie. “Give me your wrist?”

Ginnie stretched out her arm, palm up, and Holly cradled her wrist in her hand. Then she took two fingers and ran them down the inside of Ginnie’s arm, smiling when she giggled. She settled her fingers on the correct spot and applied a small amount of pressure. Ginnie’s pulse beat against her fingertips; a good, average pace. Not too slow, and certainly nothing like that day in the stairwell. It was a calming rhythm.

“Right there,” Holly said. “That’s your radial pulse.”

“What’s the one in the neck called?”

“That’s your carotid.” Holly reached up and pressed her fingers to Ginnie’s neck. “Right there.”

“I should have guessed that,* Ginnie said, sighing. “You’re groping arteries!”

Holly laughed. “I am groping arteries.”

To her surprise, Ginnie reached up and took Holly’s hand, pulling it down and clasping it between both of hers. “Hey, um. What about the third spot?”

“The third spot?” Holly asked. “Oh! You mean femoral? The groin?”

“Yeah,” Ginnie whispered.

“You’ve seen that one?” This question came out tentative and worried. Ginnie’s face reflected anxiety instead of the humor from seconds before. Ginnie nodded, but she didn’t speak. Holly asked: “When I got hurt?”

Ginnie looked down and nodded again.

“Oh. Okay.” Holly wanted to ease the tension and hopefully steer things back in the right direction. “Um… Hey. This calls for a sip of wine.”

That made Ginnie smile, even if it was weak and tremulous. They disconnected from each other long enough to pick up their glasses and drink. Holly sat back on her heels, considering Ginnie. Her cheeks were flushed, hair slightly mussed. She still looked anxious, but her posture was open, her shoulders visibly relaxing as Holly watched. 

Ginnie glanced up at Holly. “I’m sorry I brought the mood down.”

“You’re fine, hun.” She reached out and rested her hand on Ginnie’s leg. “We had some intense experiences.”

Ginnie nodded, draining her glass before she sat it on the table. She seemed to mull something over. Finally, as Holly finished her own glass, Ginnie asked in a soft voice: “Would you like to feel my femoral pulse?”

Warmth gathered between Holly’s thighs. Her eyes widened. She nodded, watching as Ginnie laid back down on the rug. Holly sat her empty glass on the table and stretched out alongside Ginnie, leaning over her. Ginnie shifted, opening her legs and bending her outside knee. Her own heart racing, Holly reached out and found the top of Ginnie’s thigh through her leggings. She slid her fingers along the crease, searching for the right spot.

Her femoral pulse was a little difficult to locate through Ginnie’s leggings, but when Holly found it, she glanced up at Ginnie’s face. The other woman was chewing on her bottom lip, her eyes on Holly’s hand.

“There it is,” Holly murmured. “Is this okay?”

“Yes. How does it feel?” Ginnie’s voice was breathy and curious, her eyes intent. 

“It’s distant. Almost didn’t find it through your clothes. Nice, healthy rate, though.”

Ginnie swallowed and looked up, giving Holly a rare moment of eye contact. “Would you like to try without my leggings?”

Want, or need, lanced through Holly. She felt Ginnie’s pulse pick up the pace. Holly nodded. “I would.” No pretense about it being a better demonstration. Just desire.

Ginnie slipped her thumbs into the waistband of her leggings and pushed them down, arching her hips off the floor. Holly helped her, rolling the tight fabric down Ginnie’s legs and off her feet. Holly couldn’t help herself, running her hand all the way up Ginnie’s leg and along the edge of her underwear. She pressed her fingers into Ginnie’s skin, her eyes falling closed as she felt her rapid pulse against her fingers. 

With her eyes closed and her attention dialed in, Holly caught an unmistakable whiff of musky arousal. She opened her eyes and shifted her hand, pressing her palm to Ginnie’s thigh and finding her pulse with her thumb. Ginnie’s face was pink again, her eyes dilated and her lips parted.

“You like this,” Holly said, the words slipping out of her before she could think them through.

“Yes,” Ginnie whispered. Her lips trembled.

Holly stroked her skin. “Want me to show you how to find your landmark on a person instead of a mannequin?”

Ginnie nodded, and Holly moved her hands up to her abdomen, stroking her sides through her shirt. “I won’t hurt you, okay? I’m just showing you where.” Holly traced her fingers along the bottom of Ginnie’s ribcage, grinning when Ginnie shivered.

“That tickles!” 

“This is your sternum.” Holly ran her fingers over Ginnie’s top, tracing a line between her breasts. “You’re aiming for the bottom third.”

Then she stacked her hands, pressing them between Ginnie’s breasts. Her fingers overlapped the soft flesh, and she felt Ginnie’s nipple pebble underneath the cloth. Holly straightened her arms and moved her shoulders over her hands, though she didn’t press down. 

“You want to keep everything straight like this,” Holly said. “That way you can more easily push down two inches. If you do it at an angle, it will be too hard to push down enough.”

Ginnie nodded. She moved restlessly, her fingers tapping against each other and her thighs rubbing together. “That makes sense.”

Holly removed her hands, leaning down to kiss the skin just above Ginnie’s neckline. Simultaneously, she moved one of her hands just under Ginnie’s left breast, palm pressing firmly. “I can feel your heart here, too.”

Holly gave Ginnie a chaste kiss. The smaller woman was panting, and reached up to stop Holly from sitting up. They kissed gain, deeper this time, the taste of wine on Holly’s tongue.

When they came up for air, Ginnie stroked Holly’s cheek. “May I practice on you?”

“Yes!” Holly leaned back so Ginnie could sit up. Then she reached for the hem of her shirt. “I’ll make it easier for you to see what you’re doing.”

Holly peeled her shirt off and dropped it to the side. She could feel Ginnie’s eyes on her as she laid herself out on the rug. When she looked up, Ginnie leaned down and kissed her.

“You’re very pretty,” Ginnie said, her voice soft and reverent. “And it’s okay for me to touch you there?”

“It’s more than okay.” Holly took a steadying breath. “You can touch me anywhere you want. Anywhere, Ginnie. Do you understand?”

“I understand. I’ll take you up on that.” Ginnie brought her hands to Holly’s sides, hesitating before she touched her. “Of course, I don’t want to tickle you, but it’s probably gonna happen.” 

“It’s okay. I promise.”

Ginnie bit her lip, but she trailed her fingers along Holly’s ribcage anyway, then up over the butterfly clasp of her bra. “The clasp marks the spot?”

“That’s it!” Holly watched as Ginnie pressed her hands over her sternum and moved her shoulders into place. At first, she kept her fingers elevated, trying unsuccessfully not to press into Holly’s breast tissue. Then she relaxed, letting her fingers curl naturally. “Exactly the right spot.”

“Your head,” Ginnie said suddenly. “It’s not tipped back.”

She lifted her hands from Holly’s chest and brushed Holly’s hair back from her forehead. Holly felt her slim fingers under her chin, and then Ginnie tipped her head back, extending her neck. To Holly’s surprise, Ginnie delicately pinched her nose and then leaned down and pressed her lips to hers.

Holly parted her lips to accept Ginnie’s tongue as it plunged into her mouth. Ginnie released her nose so that she could breathe, though she kept her fingers in place. Her other hand slipped down, stroking Holly’s neck and chest before massaging her left breast through her bra. Holly reached up and slipped her fingers into Ginnie’s hair, cupping the back of her head and keeping her face close to hers.

They kissed like this for a while until Ginnie pulled back and whispered: “I wonder what it feels like to have another person breathe for you.”

Holly felt like her own breath stalled in her lungs. “I wondered if you remembered. You briefly woke up…”

“No.” Ginnie shook her head. “I don’t remember that part.”

“Do…” Holly swallowed hard, then tried again. “Do you want me to try breathing for you?”

Ginnie slowly nodded. “Is that weird?”

“Not to me.” Holly pulled Ginnie down for another kiss and then said: “Lay on your back.”

Ginnie sat up, pulling her shirt over her head and leaving herself in only her bra and panties. “Now you’re overdressed,” she said, eyeing Holly’s pants.

Holly quickly took them off and tossed them at the sofa. “We’re even now, beautiful.”

“Yes.” Ginnie laid back on the plush rug, her arms above her head and her knees bent. 

“It might take a few tries,” Holly said. “I’ve never done this on a conscious person. Usually I do this on a mannequin in class…”

“That’s okay. I want to try. If I can’t handle it, I’ll let you know.”

Holly leaned over Ginnie, running one hand up Ginnie’s abdomen, between her breasts, and up to her chin. She tipped Ginnie’s head back and gently pinched her button nose. “Ready?”

Ginnie nodded and exhaled.

Holly took a deep breath and thumbed Ginnie’s chin, opening her mouth further before sealing her lips over hers. Then she exhaled, with more force than she would if she weren’t trying to inflate another person’s lungs. Both of their cheeks rounded, and Ginnie made a muffled noise, her chest heaving. Holly broke the seal, worried, as Ginnie let out a cough. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Ginnie said, her eyes wide. Her voice was high-pitched with excitement. “I’m fine! It was just… different. Do it again. Please.”

Holly complied, blowing a steady breath into Ginnie. This time, Ginnie’s chest rose evenly. She let her exhale, then gave her a third breath, her hand moving from Ginnie’s chin to her chest. Ginnie’s lips and skin were warm to the touch, her mouth relaxed but not slack like it had been when she’d done this for real. Holly nestled her palm between Ginnie’s breasts, pushing down ever so slightly when Ginnie exhaled. The next time her breath left Ginnie, the other woman moaned.

She does like this. Just as much as me.

“I’m going to change positions,” Holly said. Ginnie took a few breaths of her own as Holly swung her leg over hips. She curled her hand around to pinch Ginnie’s nose and then angled her head. Ginnie exhaled as Holly took a deep breath, relaxing when Holly filled her lungs. 

Holly felt incredible, her body tingling and a telltale sensation of moisture between her thighs. She braced herself on the floor next to Ginnie’s head, felt Ginnie’s hands come up to run up and down her sides. She let a bit of her weight sit on Ginnie’s hips and felt the smaller woman grind up against her. This time, she was the one moaning as she breathed for Ginnie, as she felt Ginnie’s body respond to her air. Ginnie’s cheeks puffed out and her chest swelled. Then the air came out of her in a rush.

Holly heard a snap, felt the clasp of her bra release, followed by Ginnie’s hands on her breasts. At Ginnie’s next exhale, she took her own quick breath and murmured: “I’m getting lightheaded.”

“I’m sorry!” Holly leaned down and pressed a series of kisses to Ginnie’s jawline. “I should have thought of that!”

“I’m okay,” Ginnie said. She cupped Holly’s breasts with both of her hands and circled her thumbs around her nipples. “Kiss me.”

Holly did, trapping Ginnie’s head between her hands. She shifted, coming up long enough to slip her thigh between Ginnie’s, and felt Ginnie buck up beneath her. Moving one of her hands down to Ginnie’s chest, she pushed her bra up and over her breasts. Ginnie moaned into her mouth as Holly cupped her breast, her nipple hard against Holly’s palm.

“Is this okay?” Holly gasped out. “We didn’t talk—”

“This is great, I’m great, you’re great…” Ginnie arched her back, panting. “I’m going to cum just from this, Holly!”

“I’m close, too…” Holly slid her hand between Ginnie’s breasts. “I’m going to try something, Ginnie. Stop me if you don’t like it.”

“Oh!” Ginnie gasped. Holly pressed the heel of her hand to Ginnie’s sternum and pumped ever so slightly. She was afraid to use any real pressure, but she pushed at the correct rate. Or as professionally as she could manage, her rhythm growing more and more erratic as the two ground against each other. Ginnie made soft mewling sounds, her hands clutching at Holly until she arched her back again, her mouth opening in a small, silent “o.”

Holly kept moving, writhing and pressing until the tension forming in her pelvic floor reached a peak, pleasurable sensations running through her, concentrated in her clit. She stopped pressing Ginnie’s chest and dropped her face into her neck, letting out a low cry.

She felt Ginnie’s arms come around her, squeezing her tight. They were all soft skin and silken hair, with only scraps of cloth between them, their chests heaving. 

Holly kissed Ginnie’s neck and pulled back so she could see her face. “Was that okay?”

“Surely you could tell that it was,” Ginnie said, a small smile lighting up her face. “But, yes.”

Holly rolled off onto her side, pulling Ginnie with her. They remained tangled up together on the soft rug, hearts slowly resuming their normal cadence. Ginnie trailed her fingertips down Holly’s back.

“You have very beautiful, soft skin,” she murmured. Her eyes were on Holly’s neck. “And I can see your pulse.”

Holly leaned forward and kissed her, their lips gentle. When she laid her head back down on the rug, she said: “We skipped over some talks. Namely… Can I call you my girlfriend?”

Ginnie’s face flushed pink again. “Yes! I was going to ask you the same thing. I was working up to it. I was just nervous.”

“You can ask me anything, sweetheart. Anything. Tell me anything. Please, don’t be anxious.” Holly rubbed Ginnie’s back soothingly. “I’ll always do my best to be open-minded and gentle with you. I… Correct me if I’m wrong, but I get the impression that you haven’t always had that?”

“You’re not wrong.” Ginnie bit her lip, and Holly was dismayed to feel her tremble.

“What’s wrong?” Holly draped her leg over both of Gennie’s and pulled her closer.

“I’m trying not to be anxious, but I want to tell you something.”

“Okay.” Holly kissed her forehead. “Take your time.”

Ginnie took in a sharp breath and then blurted: “I’m autistic!”

The shaking increased, and Holly quickly responded with: “Okay. Great! That’s cool… It’s okay, Ginnie, take a deep breath for me.”

She felt Ginnie comply, her breasts pressing against Holly’s. Wine-scented air wafted across her face. 

“You know,” Holly continued. “Most of my friends are neurodivergent. And my favorite cousin has OCD. I know it’s not the same thing. But, Ginnie, it’s not a turnoff! It’s great. I really like you, okay? You are who you are and I wouldn’t change you!”

Ginnie sniffled, a single tear running across the bridge of her nose and down her cheek. “Sometimes people get mad if you don’t tell them before they go out with you. But I know you’re not like that, Holly. I wouldn’t like you so much if you were.”

She shivered, and Holly squeezed her tight. “Are you cold?”

“Yeah,” Ginnie said, her tone sheepish. “I am now.”

“Stay here! I have blankets!” Holly disentangled herself from Ginnie and stood, letting her unclasped bra slip off her arms. She skipped the slightly scratchy crocheted blanket draped over the back of the sofa and pulled a softer blanket from the big basket on the floor.

As she kneeled beside Ginnie, the other woman sat up, pulling her bra up and over her head. Then she laid back down, reaching for Holly. Holly stretched out beside her, wrapped her leg over Ginnie’s, and covered them both with the blanket.

“Nap time?” Ginnie asked, yawning.

Holly pulled her close, savoring the skin-on-skin contact. She felt her girlfriend relax in her arms and closed her eyes, content.

#resus writing #wlw love

[lostgirlmuseum]

🐚Chapter 1

Mini Series Masterlist ❤️

Summary: You invite both your best friend and your boyfriend to a three-day weekend getaway at a beach resort. This trip was meant to be relaxing, but tensions and jealousies rise as both Miles and Bucky fight for your attention. 

Pairing: BestFriend!Bucky x f!Reader

Words: 3.3k

Warnings: Nothing that bad I don't think? Language. Miles being a dick. Please let me know if I've missed something!

A/N: I really hope you like it! I don't have a taglist, but you can follow updates at @lostgirl-library instead

(Divider credit: @firefly-graphics)

Reader’s POV

“Welcome to FM 98.2, I’m Nash Reeves, and you’re listening to The Grooves. Now if you’ve been following us on our social media, you already know what’s up. If you haven’t then I’ll catch you up to speed. Today is the last day to win ‘The Groovy Giveaway!’ The prize? Win up to five tickets to an all expense paid visit to the SunHaven Sea Resort’s special beach houses! Now callers, you can find our phone number on our website, but—”

“You have the right number, right?” You interrupted the radio host and turned to Wanda. You were both sitting on the soft rug of your room, crowded around the small silver radio, waiting impatiently with your phone in hand.

“I’m not an amateur, of course I have the right phone number!” 

You’d both dialed separately, in hopes of doubling your chances of winning.

“We’re about to play ‘Guess That Sound.’ Callers, have the number ready, and dial in when you think you know. Best of luck to all of you out there! Here we go. In three…two…one.”

“whHScHRRRR-whHRiRI—” The most obnoxious sound attacked your ears, but neither of you jumped. You were Avengers. You knew how to act when the stakes were high.

“CALL IN WANDA, CALL IN!” 

“I DID!”

“THAT’S A BLENDER, I KNOW IT!” 

“We already have calls pouring in! But who called first? Let’s see…hello? Caller?”

“NOOOOOO!” You yelled, falling back onto the floor when both of your phones continued ringing.

“Stay calm, they might get it wrong! We still have a chance.”

“Hi Nash!” A cheery and nearly mouse pitched voice crackled.

“Hello! What is your name?”

“Sunny!”

“Fuck you Sunny!” You abruptly sat up, pointing at the radio, “I bet that’s not ever her real name!”

“Welcome to the show Sunny! What is your guess for the sound?”

“Is it a car starting?” She said with confidence.

“No, unfortunately it is not a car starting. If that’s how your car sounds when you start it, I recommend you see a mechanic ASAP. I think you’re having major car problems Sunny.”

“Does this mean I lost?”

“Alright, next caller!” He completely ignored her and hung up.

Wanda’s phone stopped ringing.

“Hello, what is your name?” The voice had a strange delay.

“OH MY GOD, IT’S US!” Wanda squealed, quickly covering her mouth.

“Answer him!” You quickly turned down the radio and forced her to put the call on speaker.

“Hi! This is Wanda.”

“Hello Wanda! Do you have a guess for ‘Guess That Sound?’”

“Yes,” Wanda leaned in closer to the speaker, “is it a blender?” 

“Sound the alarm everyone, Wanda guessed the sound!”

“YES!” You both jumped up and started bouncing around each other.

“Congratulations, you’ve won yourself one ticket. But can you guess what specifically is in the blender for four more tickets?” 

“Um…” Wanda stopped jumping and looked at you, then the phone, concerned. “Can you play it again?”

“I’ll play it one more time.”

The annoying sound blared again and you felt your heart stop. Holy shit.

“I KNOW WHAT IT IS!” You screamed, yanking the phone away from Wanda. “Frozen strawberries, non-fat yogurt, half a banana, ice, oh… and um…” you closed your eyes, thinking hard, “Oh! And milk!”

“...”

You waited for the response. Were you wrong? Was it actually a full banana?

“THAT IS CORRECT!” Nash cheered.

“HOLY SHIT, HOW DID YOU DO THAT?” Wanda grabbed your shoulders, shaking you with elation and disbelief. “I KNOW MY FUCKING SMOOTHIES!” You pound your fists in the air.

“We’re going to the beach!”

“Hell yes we are!”

With five tickets, you mostly already knew who you were going to bring. Wanda wanted to take her boyfriend, Vision, you desperately wanted to take Bucky, and you discussed bringing one of Wanda’s friends as your fifth. You had one problem. By taking Bucky, you’d be leaving behind your boyfriend, Miles, and you knew he loved the beach. And besides, you wanted to see if this could be the next step in your relationship.

You and Miles had been together for three months. Neither of you had said I love you yet, which you were secretly relieved about. You knew you felt something for him, you just weren’t quite sure if it was love yet. You had met at the bar spontaneously when he offered to buy you a drink. On any other night, you probably would’ve turned him down, but that night you went to ignore your confusing feelings for your best friend. You had been battling these strange emotions for months, wondering why you felt so uniquely about him. Do you love Bucky? Of course you do, he’s your best friend! But do you love Bucky? No. Right? Because that would make things complicated. And he would never love you back. But what did it matter if you didn’t even like Bucky like that? And anyways, how could you have feelings for Bucky if you were with someone else? That sort of logic led you to where you were now, dating Miles Proctor, a brown eyed, sandy blonde, relatively charming (when he wants to be), beach loving man.

You told Wanda your predicament, and she told you to bring both Bucky and Miles. Apparently, her friend had a work conference already scheduled, and wouldn’t be available for the trip. You felt bad that Wanda’s plan fell through, and you promised her she and Vision could take the master suite. 

DAY 1: FRIDAY 🐚

“Miles!” You called, once you spotted his red cap coming through the airport doors. He heard you, gave you a short wave, and made his way to you, immediately wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing your cheek. He failed to acknowledge Bucky, who was standing right next to you.

“Miles, you know Bucky,” you gestured, giving a radiant smile. You were ecstatic to have them there together.

“Bucky,” Miles slowly nodded, a lilt in his voice, “right.”

You felt your heart squeeze when Bucky lifted his left arm to initiate a handshake.

He’s going above and beyond! I thought he’d only nod his head!

You missed the way Bucky slightly pulled up his sleeve to reveal more of the metal. You also missed the way he squeezed with just a little bit too much pressure, causing Miles to wince.

“Miles.” Bucky stated like an observation. 

“We met at the…” Miles held the last word, prompting Bucky to respond.

“The gala.” His voice sounded bored. 

“Right.” Miles nodded, acting as if he still wasn’t sure.

“C’mon Miles, stop joking around, I talk about Bucky all the time.”

“All the time.” Miles gave Bucky a synthetic smile.

“Funny, she doesn’t talk about you that much,” 

“Yes I do,” you defended, and looked at your watch. “We’re running low on time, we need to start moving.”

You successfully got Bucky passed security with his arm, boarded and exited the plane, and the only step left was to get a rental car and drive for an hour. Bucky offered to drive, you took shotgun, which left Miles in the back seat. Bucky remained silent the entire ride, but Miles made up for it.

“It’s beautiful!” You cried as Bucky drove the rental car into the driveway.

“So your friends are already here?” Miles asked, unbuckling his seat.

“Yeah, Wanda and Vision flew earlier today.” 

“Why didn’t they take the same flight as us?” 

“No, I mean they flew here. Vision can fly, remember?” You stepped out of the car and went to grab your bags from the trunk.

“Oh, yeah. Weird.” Miles mumbled.

“I’d argue that anyone that works with the Avengers has got to be at least a little bit weird.” 

Bucky had beat you to the trunk, and had already grabbed your things for you.

“Some are weirder than the others,” Miles said, grabbing his own bags.

You ignored his comment, missing the way he glanced at Bucky when he said it. 

“You don’t need to carry my bags, Buck,” you smiled and shook your head at your best friend.

“It’s not a problem.” His voice was a bit gravelly.

Seeing as Bucky only brought a single small suitcase for himself, he literally had super strength, and the walk to the door was less than fifteen feet, you acquiesced with a thank you.

You followed the steps up the porch and didn’t even have time to knock before the door was opening.

“Welcome to paradise!” Wanda squealed, bringing you in for a quick hug.

“Happy to be here!” 

“Come on in!” She stepped out of the way and gestured to the living space.

Bright white walls surrounded you in sunlight, and teal accents covered the space. The area felt fresh and untouched, and smelled lightly of sea salt. 

“Are you sure you’re okay with Vis and I taking the master bedroom?” 

“Of course, Wan, it’s all yours.” You smiled, and slowly turned, taking in the area. “Where’s Vision?”

“I sent him to go pick up some groceries. He should be back soon. In the meantime, you guys should get settled.”

Wanda pointed you to the bedroom with the queen bed, which happened to be to the left of the foyer. You opened the door, and appreciated the cute pineapple theme of the room. You and Miles quietly got to work unpacking your things, and it stayed quiet until you started plugging your charger into the base of the pineapple lamp on the side table.

“So,” Miles cleared his voice, “Wanda and Vision get the master bedroom?” 

“Yeah,” you mindlessly answered, looking up the weekend weather for the fourth time.

“Okay…” 

“What’s wrong?” You glanced up from your phone. He was putting his swim trunks away.

“Nothing.”

“Okay.” You looked back to your phone.

87℉ right now, but it’ll start cooling down around six…I should probably put on some sunscreen—

“It’s just, why do they get it? Weren’t you the one who won the game?” He made eye contact with you and quickly added, “It doesn’t bother me, I’m just curious.” 

“Yeah, but the whole thing was Wanda’s idea. She just let me do it with her. And besides, she seemed to want the master bedroom more than me.” You tilted your head, “You don’t mind, do you?”

“Nope.”

“It kinda seems like you mind.”

“I mean, their bed is probably bigger.” He said matter-of-factly.

“This is a queen size bed, it’s plenty big for us.”

“It’s fine.” His voice was high. “Does Vision even sleep though? I mean, if it’s one big bed for one person, that seems a little weird, right?”

You sighed. 

“I’m going to go see if Bucky’s unpacked yet.” You politely smiled and left the room.

The walk to his room was short, seeing as it was just across from yours.

“Hey Buck,” you gently knocked on his door and it creaked open.

“Hey.” He replied, sitting on the side of the bed. 

His room seemed to follow a deep sea theme, his walls a deep blue with kelp and coral decals crawling up the walls.

“All unpacked?” You asked.

“Didn’t bring much.”

You nodded, and pursed your lips. He stayed silent.

“Are you okay? You were pretty quiet this whole trip.” You cracked the door behind you and sat beside him.

“You don’t need to worry about me.” 

“That’s kind of my thing,” you chuckled. “Seriously, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. You know me, just quiet around new people.” He shrugged.

“But what about the gala?”

“I didn’t talk to him much there.”

“Yeah. Well, I’m hoping this trip will be a great opportunity for you guys to get to know each other. I think you’ll get along.”

“Are you certain about that?” 

“Why? Did something happen?”

“Nothing,” he shook his head. “You’re right, I’m sure we’ll get along.”

“You’re the best.” You wrapped your arm around him into a hug.

“I try.” 

“I want you to have fun this weekend.” You let go of him and made sure he met your gaze. “Will you try to have fun?”

“Yes, I will try to have fun.” 

“Good. Because you deserve a vacation.” You said earnestly.

There came a small rumble.

“Somebody’s hungry, huh?” You nudged his side.

You could tell he was about to laugh until the door opened.

“Babe, let’s go swimming.” Miles stood leaning in the doorway, already in his green swim trunks.

“I think we should probably get some lunch first. I did some research earlier about the restaurants, the hotel has it’s own seafood place. We could walk if we wanted.”

“But I wanted to go swimming. We just got here.” He whined.

“We have all weekend to swim. And anyways, Bucky is hungry, and I’m getting hungry too.”

“Okay.” He changed his demeanor from pouty to cheesy. “Anything for you,” he walked in and kissed you on the head.

Bucky looked away.

Vision soon returned with the groceries, and the group made their way to lunch. It was around 3 p.m. when you got back to the house, and everyone decided to take advantage of the beach.

Wanda swam for a couple minutes before returning to sunbathe on the sand. Vision sat next to her in one of the provided blue striped beach chairs. You and Miles were splashing around in the water, far enough out that the water was up to your neck, but Bucky had yet to join in. He was sitting on the steps of the back porch, simply watching you.

“Does he seem lonely to you?” You asked Miles once he came back up for air. 

“Bucky? No, he’s fine.” He answered nonchalantly, flipping the hair out of his eyes.

“But he hasn’t even gotten in yet.”

“If he wanted to get in, he’d get in.”

“Yeah…” you agreed. But one more glance back at Bucky’s form had you changing your mind. You started to swim a little closer to the shore and waved vigorously above your head.

“Hey Buck, come on in! Come on!”

After a bit more coaxing, he stood and made his way to the water, eventually meeting you. However, where the water was up to your chest, the water only met him a little past his midriff.

“See, isn’t this fun?” You laughed, giving him a small splash. 

“I think I see the appeal,” he smiled, the first real one you had seen all day.

“Babe, come back out farther,” Miles whined, coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around you.

You shook your head.

“I feel safer here, we were a little too far out I think. I don’t want to get stuck in a current.”

Miles huffed.

You felt the sand give way to something hard under your foot. You leaned down, while also trying to keep your head out of the water, and grabbed it.

“Oh my gosh, look how pretty!” You held the peach colored shell up into the sun for the boys to see.

“I think that’s a conch,” Bucky noted, bringing his fingers up to the shell and lightly touching the ridges.

“It’s just a shell,” Miles rolled his eyes, “they’re at the beach a lot.”

“Obviously, but isn’t this one pretty?”

“Sure.” He shrugged, clearly disinterested. “I’m going back out.”

“Just be careful, okay?” 

“Yeah, yeah.” He quickly made his way back to the deep, leaving you and Bucky together.

“You’re bringing a bunch of shells back home, aren’t you?” Bucky asked, but it was definitely more of a statement.

“Do you want to find some cool shells with me?” You asked, giddy.

Your enthusiasm was contagious.

“There is nothing I’d rather do.” He smiled, and you could see the crinkle of his eyes from under his sunglasses.  

You spent the next ten minutes swimming around together, showing each other the cool things you’d found, and placing the keepers on the shore before returning to your searches. The waves slowly started to get bigger, eventually to the point where it was nearly knocking you off balance.

“Bucky, I think I found a starfish! Look!” You pointed somewhere in the sand. Bucky waded over to you and patted you on the back in a congratulatory manner.

“Probably should leave the fella’ alone, I don’t think it’s good to pick them up.” He said, removing his hand from your back.

“I know. It’s so cute, I wish—” you started, but were abruptly cut off when the biggest wave yet came crashing over you, pulling you briefly underwater. Within seconds, firm hands grasped onto your arms, and pulled you back above. Instead of letting you go, Bucky moved his grip to your hips, holding you steady as you coughed.

“Are you okay?”

“Yep,” your voice came across nasally, “just wasn’t expecting that. Salt water up the nose hurts like a bitch,”

“Are you ready to get out?” He asked, picking you up as another wave came rolling through, only forcing him to back up a step.

“I think so,” you wheezed. 

Bucky escorted you to the shore, using himself as a shield against the attacking waves.

The moment your feet hit the dry sand, you looked back at the sea. Where was Miles?

“Miles?” You called over the crashing waves. He was nowhere to be seen. “Miles! M–”

“Gotcha!” Miles came up behind you and picked you up in an effort to try to surprise you, but the way his hands stuck to your wet skin only managed to hurt you.

“Ow!” You yelped, turning to face him once he’d put you down. “What the hell! I thought you drowned!”

“Me? Drown? C’mon.” He wiggled his eyebrows but it only pissed you off that he wasn’t taking you seriously.

“You scared me, asshole,”  

“Alright, I’m sorry, jeez.” 

“Whatever,” you sighed. 

You didn’t even realize Bucky had walked off until he reappeared with a bucket full of shells you’d accumulated and a towel over his shoulder.

“I’m going to start washing these off,” he said, and tossed you the towel.

“I think this one’s a Sunray Venus!” You beamed, holding the shell to the laminated shell guide you'd found on a counter.

You and Bucky had set up shop at the kitchen table, admiring and identifying the treasures you'd found together.

“Doll, I think that one’s a Dosinia.”

“Oh. Yeah, you’re right. Bummer.”

“Bummer? What’s wrong with a Dosinia?” 

“Nothing, but Sunray Venus just sounds so cool. I haven't seen one yet, though.”

“We have a lot of cockles,” Bucky noted, picking another shell out of the yellow bucket and lining it up on the table.

“Oh my gosh, look Bucky! It’s a sand dollar!” 

“Too bad it’s broken,” he commented, holding it gently in his palm.

“What do you think the chances are of us finding the other half?”

“One in ten-trillion.” He looked you dead in the eyes.

“I don’t like those odds.”

“I’ll find you a full sand dollar.” 

“Good luck with that,” you laughed. 

Bucky put down the sand dollar and turned to face you.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Wanda scheduled me and her appointments at the spa tomorrow, but besides that, I don’t think anything is on the docket. Is there anything you’d like to do?”

Bucky sat back in his seat a bit.

“Whatever you want to do, Doll.”

Oh Bucky, always the gentleman.

“C’mon, Buck. There’s gotta be something.”

“I’d be happy just reading on the beach with you.” He smiled, his voice gentle.

“Consider it on the schedule,” you nudged him. 

“Looking forward to it.”

You could tell he meant it. 

God, how did I end up with the sweetest best friend? If only—

...

If only.

A/N: Thank you so so so much for reading the first chapter! I really hope you like it. I’m pretty nervous bc even though this series is short, I still feel like it won’t ever be as fleshed out as I want it to be, so I’m just kinda forcing myself to be happy with it. I didn’t really know how to end it, but the next chapter is in Bucky’s POV! 

Chapter 2

#bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x y/n #bucky angst #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fanfiction #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #jealous bucky #jealous bucky barnes #jealous!bucky #bestfriend!bucky x reader

[tinyidle]

hear me out!

Spoiled!soyeon annoying daddy!yuqi (g!p)

you are my last! and since i actually have little to do tonight and am bored, here's the last ever hear me out fic thingy

behave - jsy x syq

WARNING: smut ofc, rough sex, allusion to rough throatfucking, spanking, overstimulation, creampie, bratty!soyeon, spoiledsugarbaby!soyeon, brattamer!yuqi, sugar'daddy'!yuqi, g!p yuqi, all fiction ofc

wc: 983

she took her to their favorite spot. yuqi had a small social-business gathering to talk to work buddies and discuss the upcoming project. all she wanted was for soyeon, the woman who is supposed to be the unnie in this situation, to behave.

that's it.

sit still, don't move. laugh at a funny joke here and there. look like yuqi's older yet mini eye candy.

but even that the smaller couldn't do.

within minutes of the friend group having a very serious conversation about how sales needed to be increased through marketing to the public, yuqi felt a long, manicured finger trail up her skirt. the woman gasped and quickly clutched onto the finger before excusing herself with a slightly awkward chuckle.

she turned to soyeon, subtly yet forcibly grabbing her hair behind her ear to whisper into her ear, " what the fuck do you think you're doing, unnie?"

soyeon simply shrugged and pulled away with a cute and mischievous smile. the older knew she didn't have to be this way. in fact, she didn't even need a sugar mommy-- or in this case, 'daddy'. but soyeon wanted it. despite her having as much (if not, maybe even more) than yuqi, along with being a year older than her, soyeon loved the thrill of doing something out of range for her. and that included punishment.

fortunately for her, yuqi had enough.

after a couple of light drinks and even more light-hearted laughs, yuqi excused both her and soyeon being escorted to yuqi's limousine headed back to her penthouse.

i was huge, the penthouse: a wide-concept living room with an even more spacious kitchen, if that was even possible. the bedroom, bathroom, and even closets felt like one could live in there alone and be content. what made the place all the more exciting for soyeon, however, was the illumination of the overhead lights at night: an ambient mixture of lilac and violet.

it reminded her of what's to come.

"on your knees, slut," yuqi commanded the moment she locked the door. not wanting to get punished any further, soyeon slowly went to her kneed on the soft and fluffy rug in the living room. "oh, so now you want to listen, huh?" the taller woman tsked, quickly undoing the feathery faux belt attached to her skirt. when she went near soyeon, she held her face between her hands before making her look up. "you're going to listen to everything i say, got it?" soyeon nodded. "good. now get on my lap and take what you deserve."

--

the older woman's ass was now a burning crimson, and in all fairness she could say the safe word. but where's the thrill in that? besides, with every SMACK! the belt deliciously landed, the more soyeon's cunt would cause her panties to soak through. she felt soiled: her hair was a mess, tears stained her cheeks, and despite the harsh grip she had on yuqi's thighs that had the taller's legs bruise, soyeon knew her bottom definitely looked worse.

just one more, she told herself.

SMACK! and that had soyeon crying out a harsh '25!' before yuqi let the belt drop to the floor. carefully putting the woman on the couch next to her, yuqi gently massaged soyeon's bottom until the older sighed with relaxation.

yuqi nodded once to herself and stood up. once soyeon felt this, she immediately got to her knees and waited for the next instruction. "look at that, my little slutty baby's now wanting to behave after getting spanked. does she want daddy's cock?" yuqi feigned sympathy.

soyeon nodded before answering, "yes, daddy. please give me your cock." the older woman was fully bottomless, but her top was still on while yuqi was fully clothed. that was going to change in just a bit.

smiling, yuqi finally instructed. "well, then, take off your top and bra so you can take daddy's skirt off. ive been waiting for your mouth on me." soyeon wasted no time and pulled her top and bralette off of her before carefully yet hastily tugging of yuqi's skirt and panties. seeing that she was getting a bit too excited, yuqi decided to take the reigns again. "uh-uh, unnie. ill fuck your mouth, since you're still in trouble."

--

how in the world is soyeon able to scream? her throat is sore from the previous harsh throat fucking she's gotten before, and she was given at least three orgasms already. in the living room alone. it was torture, but soyeon loved it.

and secretly so did yuqi.

they were now in the bedroom, and yuqi had soyeon on all fours, 'dicking her down' into next week. the younger woman's fingers were harshly gripping the sheets, so much so that a couple of her nails came off, but she didn't care.

as yuqi pressed harshly into her, soyeon let out a guttural moan as she came once again. "fuckk, daddyyy! im too- sen-sen sensi-" she wailed before whining into the pillow below her as yuqi smacked her extremely vulnerable asscheeks.

the taller kept on thrusting, frantically searching for her high. "i told you over and over again in the past to behave, but you like to test me. so now, im testing you. but i think im going to let you go by cumming. you want me to cum baby?"

soyeon tried her best to say "yes, daddy, pleasee."

"yeah? want me to cum in this greedy, slutty pussy?"

"PLEASEE" she responded.

yuqi couldn't take it anymore. with one more thrust to the hilt, yuqi's pelvis came into contact with the back of soyeon's thighs where her ass met, cumming deep and hard. "that's it, shit. take all of daddy's cum like the slut you are."

all the older could do was hum with a smile. she simply loved the thrill of being naughty. and getting everything she wants out of it.

#hear me out 2 #gidle smut #soyeon smut #yuqi smut

[general--winter]

Hi I hope I'm not late to request anything! I was wondering if you can do any headcanons or whatever you feel like writing of arven finding out the his partner y/n had physic powers after walking in on them using their powers

author's note: Inspiration struck me with this one! I made a little mini one-shot. No, no, this absolutely isn't me displaying my Arven favoritism. But I must say, who else liked him throughout Scarlet and Violet and then began hardcore simping after the scene in Aera Zero? I know I did and I am not ashamed to admit it. Enjoy!!!

rating: general

fandom: pokemon

pairings: arven x gn!reader

word count: 535

warnings: none

summary: Arven finds out that his partner is a psychic. Now what does Mabosstiff have to say about him?

Arven thought of himself as a composed and coordinated person. Whether that is the truth is up to those who know him. What he will admit, though, was that he thought you were nuts when you claimed you and Mabosstiff were deep in conversation and that’s why he couldn’t bother you.

“Run that by me again,” he deadpanned after picking his jaw up off of the floor of his dormitory. “You’re talking. To Mabosstiff.”

“Yes,” you replied, patting the Pokemon on its head before standing up slowly to meet Arven at eye level. “We chat quite frequently, actually.”

He couldn’t believe his ears. Or his senses. His partner, the one he’d been dating for only a few months, was talking to a Pokemon? No, he figured that you just knew how to communicate with his most beloved partner Pokemon already, which was still impressive. There was just no believing the alternative. You haven’t known Mabosstiff for long enough to understand his queues, but there’s just no other way.

“How, praytell, did you manage to understand my dearest Mabosstiff so fast?” Arven shouted, pointing a finger at you with a weirdly playful look of terror across his face. “You’ve only been around him for a few months.”

Your reply was… unexpected. Completely vague and incredibly weird.

“Oh, I just talk to him. Like I would anyone else!”

“If you say that you talk in words, I’m going to have a breakdown right here and now.”

“Yes, we do. I can communicate with Pokemon through my mind.”

Arven is down for the count. You manage to scamper over and catch his head before it hits the ground, maneuvering him to lay on the rug. Mabosstiff lumbers over too to sit on the now-free lap of his partner.

“But that’s… completely unheard of. Impossible,” Arven muttered while you put a pillow under his head. “Someone would have researched this by now.”

“I was actually the subject of a study recently,” you said, fixing his hair. Arven gently swatted you away, but you kept stroking his locks.

“Has the paper come out yet? I’d love to read it.”

“No, but I’ll be the first to know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, by the way. But this was a funny way to have you find out.”

Arven laughed dryly, sitting up from his position on the floor. His hands immediately met yours on Mabosstiff, the two of you holding hands and petting the Pokemon. His butt wagged with his tail, and his true eyes were gently shut as his legs splayed out. Curiosity danced on Arven’s features as he turned to face you.

“So, although I am sure of the answer,” he began before you cut him off right away.

“You want to know what Mabosstiff says about you, yeah?” you finished with a wink.

Arven’s face dropped to horror. “You… can’t read my mind too, can you?”

“No, silly. Just Pokemon. Now, was I right?”

He nodded, glancing back down to his partner. “I’m just curious. I want to hear his words.”

“Mabosstiff always refers to you as his ‘bestest friend in the entire world’. He does want you to change his food, though. He doesn’t like it.”

#pokemon #pokemon x reader #pokemon scarlet #pokemon violet #arven x reader #rival arven #arven #request #one shot #god damn it the way he catches your character around the waist i #*chefs kiss*

[incandescentt-iridescentt]

brain empty, just best friend kirishima's attraction to you multiplying tenfold after he finds out about your dirtiest secret. going feral for you after seeing you in a different light

cw: kissing, slight grinding, alcohol, light choking, technically dubcon if you squint (they're both tipsy, but he checks in and reader verbally consents)

wc: 1.8k (woops)

a/n: nothing? i just hope you enjoyyy!!

kirishima finding about about your only fans/nsfw twitter during a game of do or drink. you're having a party at izuku's house with all your friends n you're all tipsy n giggling, some sitting on the couch and accompanying armchairs, others sitting on the soft rug.

it's mina's turn to ask you something, and of course, being the sly little minx she is, dares you to tell the person to your left your biggest secret. the second the words leave her mouth you're staring at her, lips open like a fish out of water. she stares back, only a small quirk in her brow, urging you, challenging you. "what? you scared, buttercup? fess up or it's four shots for you." you scoff with a smile. you see right through her little scheme. you see, earlier, when she had originally suggested the drinking game, she purposefully placed you next to kirishima. why you may ask? because she's the only one to know about your super duper major fat crush on him, and she knew all about your naughty little account.

she had this set up from the beginning. you turn slowly, bringing a cupped hand to his ear, hesitating slightly before your pink-haired friend interrupts you girlishly. "ah ta ta! you must tell the person to your left your biggest secret.. in detail," everyone pauses, a few shouts and ouuu's passed about the room, "out you go now! out! out! to the kitchen to reveal you dirty little secrets, y/n. i'll make sure no one spies."

the walk to the kitchen is silent but not awkward. he's one of your best friends! you know he wouldn't judge you.. it's just, how would he react? you make your way to the counter and turn to face him, lower back resting on the harsh counter edge. it doesn't faze you, not with the way you're practically shaking out of nervousness. he puts his hands on each of your forearms, squeezing lightly, "you don't hafta do this if you don't wanna, okay, angel? i can lie and pretend you did it anyways." but you're already shaking your head. besides, it'd be nice to tell someone other than mina. you take a breath, but he cuts you off- "wait! sorry, that was loud, uhm.. can we sit on the floor, my legs get a little tired when i'm tipsy." you giggle and nod, and in seconds you're both facing each-other cross-legged on izuku's kitchen floor. you giggle again and clear your throat. his eyes are wide and lit up in interest, body subconsciously leaning towards you.

"okay okay.. so.. you know uhm, twitter?" he nods slowly, curious as to where you were going with this. "well uhm, y'know how there's like.. another side to twitter, like... a nsfw side.." you pause and he blushes lightly, but nods anyway. his mind starts racing,

are you like a sugar mommy or something? or do you just watch a lot of porn there or something? twitter porn is usually very good, much better than the mainstream brazzers shit he knows mineta undoubtedly watches... his mind trails, but refocuses when you continue. "i'm kind of.. on there?"

i was right. he thinks. she watches twitter porn. but that's not-

"... i post there. like my b-body and stuff."

oh... oh i was wrong. so, very wrong.

your hands are covering the lower half of your face, clearly embarrassed. he feels his cock twitch. he doesn't mean it! he swears, it's just the alcohol taking effect. but you look so cute all shy like that, and his eyes betray him when he glances at your plush tits from your low cut top and the sliver of your panties showing from your mini-skirt where you sit cross-legged. his mind is racing ever faster than before.

you? since when? how did you even get into that? you don't seem the type to.. i mean, almost everyone knows you to be quite insecure about your body, even though i think it's fucking ridiculous, considering how gorgeous you are.. do you make bank off that shit?! can i-

"can i see?" the question leaves his lips faster than he can catch them, and he's absolutely mortified. "..oh, my god i can't believe i just asked you that, please forgive me i'm horrible-"

"it's okay, eiji!" you interrupt with a soft chuckle, reaching to pull your phone out of your bra. he quirks his brow at this and you mumble something along the lines of what? it's not like i have pockets. he sees your fingers swipe and tap on your phone screen, pulling open the app. you scroll for a few seconds, murmuring once more about 'having to find a good one'

he bets they're all perfect.

your finger stops scrolling and you huff a little before looking back at him... "ready?" lost for words, he can only nod dumbly again. you turn your phone the slightest centimeter before interjecting yourself-

"j-just remember i'm not skinny like most girls on here and- and i have stretch marks and-" you're cut off by his fingers squishing your cheeks, hard. his face is much closer you yours than you remember, and you can feel his breath on your lips.

"shut up." he says, but his eyebrows are slightly raised, and his eyes are soft, voice gentle as ever. you nod as he pulls away and you turn your phone to him.

his breath stops.

delay between brain reception and alcohol failing him once again when he says,

"shit, y/n."

your stomach twists. it's said deeply, carnally, and you have the sudden urge to squeeze your thighs together.

you can only chuckle nervously and respond with a little 'yeah', trying to play off how fucking jittery you feel.

"y/n, i mean.. this is.. i- i never would've guessed. i mean it's not that you're not attractive! you are! and i've always thought so, and it's not that you have no sex appeal either, because well, obviously.. b- but this is.. something else. it's.. lewd. you seem so? so into it? fuck, these poses.."

and he means what he says! he's always thought you were a pretty girl, but he never let his mind wander past that invisible boundary. you were one of his best friends, and he wanted to be respectful of that.

"unexpected, hm?" you grin.

"yeah.. and y'know, i can't lie and say that i haven't thought of doing the same thing.. i mean, some people make decent money on the side off this stuff! i only decided against it because of my tattoos. would be more difficult to stay anonymous, y'know? but you? you're so.. i dunno you're sweet.. you're innocent-looking, and i've always observed you to be more insecure about your body?? if that makes sense."

"well, yeah. i mean i really started this account for myself. so that i could be able to feel sexy and pretty. not just in an innocent way but in another way. it's nice to be able to feel like i can be attractive beyond the 'cute' girl-next door sort of appeal. it started mostly as a way to build self-confidence."

"honestly, that's.. that so cool? especially if it's helped you! it's unexpected, of course, but i'm happy for you! like i said, as someone whose always wanted to try something like this.. to see you do the same and be successful too, it's just awesome. i'm proud of you!"

you cackle, "i tell you i post my tits online and you tell me you're proud of me.. never thought i'd get that as a reaction."

you make eye contact with him again, but something's changed.. his eyes are lidded, and his gaze drops to your lips, then back up. you feel yourself leaning in before you can stop yourself and he grabs your chin with his thumb and index. a little "c'mere" is whispered before his lips are on yours in a slow and deep kiss.

his other hand snakes to your waist pulls. pulls you into his lap, not breaking the kiss for a second. you can't help the little whimpers that escape as he gropes the flesh of your hips, practically grinding you down onto him before he pulls away for a second-

"w-wait i'm sorry, are- are you okay with this? are you consenting to this, i don't wanna-"

but you're cutting him off with a desperate plea of yesyesyes before your lips are back on his. your hand travel, in his hair and down his chest, hooking around his pants loops and even dipping slightly into the front of his sweats, where you feel his hips buck the slightest bit at the contact there, and his hand then slides down to your throat to squeeze. you moan into his mouth and he pulls away to mumble a soft "fuck, you're good at this." before you hear faint footsteps approaching. you pull yourself off of him, back into your original position, sitting face to face. you hope no one sees your kiss-swollen lips. he can only smirk at the thought of someone noticing. it's bakugou who comes in, almost a little surprised to see you both sitting on the floor.

"forgot you two idiots were here. the game's been done for a while, we just gave up on you two when you didn't come back.. i'm making coffee for the group, y'want any?" the two of you shake your heads no and he continues fluttering around the kitchen to find the things he needs. bakugou could be a barista if he wanted. he makes latte art effortlessly, and can stir up any creation someone requests ont he spot. it a talent that comes in handy at get-togethers like this, when a drunk kaminari requests a caramel macchiato on a whim, and soon every other one of your friend is nodding along, requesting the same.

the two of you are still sitting on the floor, and when bakugou isn't looking, he steals another quick peck from you with a smirk before helping you up and leading you back into the living room to the rest of your friends. no one really said anything. by this point, some had passed out, others laying on top of eachother watching tiktoks on a single phone, laughing at something that probably wasn't remotely funny, but was due to the leftover tequila buzz. kaminari, sero and jirou are all bickering while playing mario kart, and the two of you are able to settle in so nonchalantly with the rest, it's as though nothing ever happened. but the eye contact you make throughout the night.. and the little kisses he continues to give you anytime you find yourself alone with him tells you that it did, in fact, happen. and he'll never let you forget it.

#my hero academia smut #mha smut #mha thirst #mha scenarios #my hero academia thirst #mha headcannons #mha drabbles #mha x reader #fem!reader #my hero academia scenarios #my hero academia drabbles #my hero academia x reader #leora prattles #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha imagines #kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijiro smut #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x you #my hero academia #mha #bnha #eijiro kirishima #boku no hero smut