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#i use the denim i saved from my shorts
mbat · 1 year
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does taleblr ever remember. the jennys
they only existed for like one episode i think but i remember them and how they somehow chose the best possible player models for them and i still hate how good a choice those playermodels were
i have no idea what that episode was called or even about so its a lost cause to find unless i go crawling through the channel lol
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pinkmirth · 1 year
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I think we need some headcanons of cowboy Reiner
— ( save a horse, ride a cowboy! )
༉‧₊˚. — synopsis: just a cluster of fluffy and smutty headcanons for none other than the love of my life, cowboy reiner!
༉‧₊˚. — contains: (2k words of…) cowboy!reiner x fem!reader, (black coded), fluff, nsfw/smut, modern au, southern setting, established relationship (married), fantasies of having a child, breeding kink (‘cause this is reiner we’re talking about duh!), mentions of pregnancy, bondage kink, oral (m!receiving/blowjob), cowgirl position, doggy-style, creampie, reiner calls himself “daddy”, use of the petnames (mama, sugar, darling, honey, cowgirl), reiner calls you “woman” once, lowercase intended, minors shoo!
༉‧₊˚. — mira’s note: oh absolutely, nonnie! here are some thoughts I have on cowboy rei-rei 💕 (check masterlist for other reiner fics!)
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this man is always covered head-to-toe in classic cowboy attire— embroidered cowboy boots, blue denim jeans with a lasso hanging from his belt loop, and a trusty old cowboy hat. he’s got the whole getup, and he looks even sexier in it every time you see him! though, his best look by far is the shirtless one. it’s the highlight of your day when whenever it gets too warm outside, because he’s soon to peel off his top. from across the farm, he can feel your eyes burning into his lightly-tanned skin as he does the most mundane chores. his muscles tense and flex with every move, pecs gleaming with sweat. he shoots you a smirk, folding his arms across his bare chest. “y’like what ya see, honey?” you pray the weather’s even hotter tomorrow.
it warms his heart whenever you come around to watch him do his daily chores around the farm. your presence motivates him to work harder, so he can continue to provide for you and sustain your comfortable lifestyle. you try not to be too much of a distraction, but you can’t help wanting to be closer to your husband; so you tug at his leather belt and pull him in for a kiss. that gets him giddy like nothing else. “ya know how much i love it when y’do that… gimme another,” he puckers his lips, and you giggle. “i don’t wanna keep you sidetracked for too long, rei. you were busy before i got here,” you caress his stubbled cheek and he pouts in response, leaning forward to receive another pillowy kiss. “jus’ one more, mama.”
cowboy reiner loves to cook and bake! he often goes on farmer’s market dates with you, walking hand in hand as you help him pick out the freshest ingredients and spices. you chat and laugh amongst one another, dropping carrots and apples into the hand-woven basket that reiner made for you. after arriving back home, he allows you to relax in yours and his shared bedroom while he whips together a hearty southern meal for the two of you. he shouts from across the house, adorned in nothing but a short pair of checkered boxers and a flimsy apron, “supper’s ready, darlin’! come on down ‘n eat!”
he’s great with animals! reiner cradles an adorable month-old horse in his strong arms, feeding milk to the baby with a soft smile. it’s just about the sweetest thing you could ever see! all the little foals follow him around the ranch because they love papa reiner just as much as you do <3 he’s built something of a connection between himself and his beloved herd, which is why he’s able to bring the horses over to their stables with no hassle whatsoever. this man could practically be a veterinarian with all the animal knowledge he has!
he’s a locally known rodeo champion! reiner wins the prize for longest bull-riding every single year. he should allow someone else a fighting chance, at least 😭 but he’s just effortlessly good at anything he puts his mind to! he skillfully rides the beast with such ease, leaving the crowd in awe. courtesy of his natural-born strength, he hardly ever gets tossed off. reiner’s got medals galore hanging on his wall from every competition.
as a southern man, he’s very family-oriented. his loved ones are of the utmost importance to him, and he’ll always put family first before anything else. he utterly adores you, and can’t wait to start a tiny lil family of his own with you <3 when I tell you this man cannot wait to be a papa, I mean it! there’s no denying that reiner would be an amazing father, considering that he’s so caring and attentive. he knows the best tickle spots to target, and the silliest faces to make to get a child cracking up (both of which he discovered through spending lots of time with gabi when she was small.) he constantly daydreams about dressing up his little one in tiny boots and overalls and carrying them up on his shoulders. (yes, I’m pushing the daddy rei-rei agenda on this fine weekend!)
cowboy reiner has manners like none other— the epitome of a true gentleman! he’s a great listener, is always so patient, opens doors for you, pays for your things without hesitation, gives frequent massages, carries you when you begin to feel tired; the list goes on! he’s just so kind and selfless, and never fails to show it. cowboy rei-rei is truly the perfect husband. “your feet hurt? well c’mere, sugar. i’ll carry you. it ain’t too much for me, y’know i can handle ya! jus’ hold onto me. i gotcha, okay?”
cowboy reiner is a grown man who can wholly appreciate your body and every striking detail about it. he scrutinizes the small dotted beauty marks scattered across your skin, your cutely patterned stretch marks, the curves and crevices of your soft tummy and thighs, and he fucking loves it all. makes it a habit to kiss up and down your body, just to give you a well-needed confidence boost. this man right here surely knows how to make a woman feel special! “listen t’me— you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, y’know that?”
(nsfw) — reiner loves when you treat him to a surprise blowie during work. he’s up to the usual, arranging things around the barn and tending to the animals. you then make your entrance, wrapping your arms around his waist to hug him from behind. your plump lips curve into a sensual smile as you ask him, “can I steal you for a moment, baby? it won’t be for too long, I swear it.” in an instant, he's allowing you to pull him away from his duties, unknowing of where you’re taking him, but also uncaring because he’d allow you to do whatever you please. he follows you with the goofiest smile plastered on his charming face, because he knows that he’s about to receive the most knee-buckling blowjob of his entire goddamn life. you bring him into the hayloft, pushing him against the red-painted wall until he’s flat against it. you drop to your knees and bring his jeans down with you. “fuck, darlin’… kiss the tip ‘fa me.” he moans lowly. you do as he wishes, suckling on his cockhead with the most beautiful, glistening eyes. you’re so eager to please, and it makes him throb on your tongue. with a hand at the back of your head, he guides you further onto him until you’ve swallowed the entirety of his fat dick. reiner ruts his hips, fucking into your wet mouth. you always know just how to make him feel so good, so loved. he adores you like nothing else. “oh, that’s it, honey, right there… atta girl.”
(nsfw) — the bondage kink on this man is insane, I tell you! cowboy reiner loves to keep your hands tied behind your back and watch you squirm against the rope. “rei,” in a breathless whine, his name falls from your plush lips. you wiggle your ass in the air for him, anticipating his next move. he takes you from the back, raw-dogging your pussy with a merciless pace. you truly wonder where he gets all this unparalleled energy to drill you into the bed, especially considering all the hard work he puts into maintaining the farm every day. one large hand of his stays planted on your waist, hastily grabbing, while the other holds onto your tied hands for leverage. he delivers harsh, deep-reaching thrusts, with his firm hips sharply smacking against you from behind. your wrists struggle against the rope, and he can tell just how desperate you are to touch him. his gaze is fixated on your soft body; every jiggle of your ass and ripple of your thighs is more hypnotizing than the last. you mewl for him, stuttering out something along the lines of ‘t—too much!’ … reiner leans down until his chest grazes the arch of your back, so that he can say, “quit alla-that whinin’, woman.” he clicks his teeth, flooding your ears with that sexy southern drawl of his. “y’can take it all, you’ve done it before.”
(nsfw) — we all know it, the entire goddamn fandom knows it: cowboy reiner has a massive fucking breeding kink! he wants nothing more than to get you pregnant by stuffing your pliant womb with his thick loads of cum. giving you a creampie makes him go completely wild; he watches his seed drip down your slit with hitched breath. a sight such as that is enough to get him hard all over again. the lust takes over, and he’s thinking with his dick for the next three rounds. plowing into you and rubbing at your puffed clit with calloused fingertips, reiner asks, “want me to come inside you? hm?” he gently holds onto your chin, directing your gaze to him. you dazedly look at your husband, pulsing around his thick cock. seeing how fucked-out you are makes his chest swell with the utmost pride. his greatest achievement is being able to please you. “tell me how bad y’fuckin’ want it, baby.” he rasps. your pleading moans urge him to release for you. his warm, pearly arousal seeps into you for the nth time that night. all he wants is to fill you up until you’re walking funny, with your leg shaking from all the stimulation. or, at least until that little stick comes out positive one day. having you grow plump with his child is his ultimate fantasy. “you’d look so stunnin’ as a mama, carryin’ my baby… don’t’cha think so, sugar?”
(nsfw) — reiner likes to let you wear his cowboy hat while you ride him. mounting onto your husband with your legs on either side of his hips, you straddle him. your dainty hands are planted on his broad chest for balance. he pulls off his iconic hat, hair cutely tousled from wearing it all day, before sitting up to place it on your head. “since you’ll be the one ridin’ tonight. giddyup, cowgirl.” he teases with a slick grin. you tip the hat with a breathy laugh before sinking down on his fat dick, maintaining sharp eye contact with him as your throbbing cunt takes him in little by little, until your clit’s grounded and snug against the dark-blonde tufts of his happy trail. his warm palms rub along your body as you swivel your hips, slamming down on all nine girthy inches that he has to offer. he watches your tits bounce, one manicured hand of yours squeezing at your left boob while the other holds onto his hat that rests upon the crown of your head. you rock back and forth with fervor, and he swears he can feel every spongy ridge of your contracting pussy. he throws his head back onto the pillows and gazes at you with the prettiest set of honey-golden eyes, hooded and lust-blown. gravelly moans fall past his agape lips as he spurs you on, giving your ass a thorough smack, “bounce on it, jus’ like that— yeah, fuck daddy’s cock.”
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loveshotzz · 11 months
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Big Boss
older!steve harrington x fem!reader
summary: steve’s had a stressful day at work, you know just how to help.
word count: 1.8k
warnings: 18 +porn with little plot, we’re just giving our favorite daddy some sloppy toppy. oral (m receiving), dirty talk.
authors note: this is just a little fun blurb in the colors univserse but could be read as a stand alone. Had to finish this as a joe keery day gift to you. inspired by this post . thank you @pastel-pillows for always being so filthy in my asks and every single one of you for always being horny for our favorite boy with me.
Steve was stressed, you could tell by the way he only came out of his office once to refill his coffee mug instead the half dozen times he’d found excuses for your first two days here. Finally reappearing again when the clock struck 4pm, his bare feet pad with force against the plush cream carpet of his living room where you sit lounged out on the contrasting dark brown leather couch. A guest. Scratching his peppered scruff with deft nails he grumbles a “Hey honey” giving you a chaste kiss on that top of the head before running a clearly frustrated hand through his already messy hair stomping off to the kitchen.
Despite the itching feeling to go check on him, you decide to give him space. This was unchartered territory. You try to refocus on the passage of the book you’d left off on before he appeared, avoiding the picture of Jenny hanging on the wall that always seemed to catch your line of sight.
The pop of a cork being pulled makes you jump, the hollow noise echoing through the hall before the clink of glass signals he's pouring wine. You wonder if it’s the same as last night, cheeks heating up at the thought of the way he had you cumming on his tongue in the middle of dinner last night. The flush of the red wine made him insatiable, even though he said it was just you.
Biting your lip into a smile, warmth floods your stomach as you press your thighs together, your body already needing more and he’s not even touching you. Not yet. Closing your book with a sigh of defeat you glance towards the kitchen. Steve’s back is to you as he leans against the island, the black cotton of his shirt stretches over his shoulder blades when he lifts the glass to his lips, downing its contents in one gulp before pouring himself another one.
“You gonna save some for me baby?” The nickname you give him is new, but you say it so sweet it makes his muscles relax at the sound of your voice. You wonder if he’s smiling like you are.
He huffs out a tired laugh pushing off the counter to grab another glass before finally turning around to face you. The smile you’d hoped was there doesn’t disappoint as his hazel eyes meet yours through the thin rims of his glasses. Grabbing the bottle with his free hand, the wet spot in the lace you wore just for him grows when it looks small in his grasp.
“Got plenty saved for you.” He grins at his own joke making his way over as your gaze drops to his loose fitting worn jeans. They look like they’ve been in his possession for years, hanging low on his waist, you get a peek of the happy trail leading to what you’d hope to get to soon.
You uncurl your legs from under you, the small yoga shorts you have on leaving little to the imagination as your toes hit the floor. He steps confidentially between your spread legs, the spark that had been missing from his eyes returning as he towers over you.
“I know you do.” Your fingers gran at the denim on either side of his thighs using them as leverage to pull yourself to the edge of the couch, quirking an eyebrow with a knowing smirk when his pants start to strain.
He holds out your empty glass for you to take, fingertips brushing yours on purpose when you grab it. The intensity of his gaze has you squirming as he holds your eyes, filling the ruby liquid half way. He sets the bottle down on the end table when he’s done, not moving an inch from your space.
Taking a sip, the bitter fruit hits your tongue making you remember it tastes much better on his. Running a bold hand up his thigh, you hook a finger through his belt loop tugging gently.
“What’s got you so stressed?”
His face softens at your question, fingers reaching out to tuck a fly away hair behind your ear. Soft tips tracing the shell, sending goosebumps across your skin.
“Just a long day, nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about.” Running his knuckles across your cheek bone, his lips twitch when you lean into his touch. Already putty in his hands.
“Let me help you relax?” Your words are soft when you look up at him, and the green specks in his eyes turning black.
“You wanna help me relax? How are you gonna do that baby?” The pad of his thumb swipes against your bottom lip when he asks. His jeans tighten even more when your tongue comes out to collect the salt from his skin.
“I’ve got a few ideas in mind, but I need you to sit down first.” your cheshire grin gives away your intentions and he gladly listens.
Standing up when he sits down, his eyes stay on the curves of your body. He watches you intently as you polish off your glass like he’d done in the kitchen before setting it down. Your cheeks heat up from the wine and his stare, getting his full attention like this always makes you bold.
You run your hands over all his favorite dips, the softness of your hips, finger tips catching the hem of his old shirt you’d thrown on lazily after your shower together this morning, teasing just a peek of the skin underneath. Leaning his head back against the cushions of the couch, you enjoy the way he greedily drinks you in.
“This looks an awful lot like teasing me honey.” There’s a playful edge to his voice despite how hungry he looks.
Giggling when you drop to your knees, it only makes his smile grow, pearly whites showing through his pink lips.
“I promise, that’s not my intention. Mr Harrington.” Practically purring his last name, his eyes roll in the back of his head at the sound of it. A low groan rumbling out of his chest when your hands start to wander up his legs, squeezing the muscles of his thighs under the layer of denim in your way. You needed it gone.
The bulge in his pants is intimidating when your fingers brush against the zipper, a low hiss slipping out from between his clenched teeth.
“You gonna let me take care of you?” you look up at him from under your lashes as you find the button of his jeans. Nodding, his pupils take over any color left in his eyes when you pop it open with ease.
“Need it baby.” He sighs when you start working at the zipper, lifting his hips for you so his pants pool at his ankles.
You’re more than happy to find he’s opted out of underwear when his cock springs free smacking hard against the dark happy trail covering his stomach. Precum already leaks from its pretty pink tip and it kicks up when the heat of your breath fans over the sensitive skin. You’ll never get over how big he is, always challenging yourself to take him deeper than the last time even if it left your throat bruised in the process.
The carpet is rough against your knees as you scoot closer, wasting no time to take him in your hands. Your fingers are barely able to wrap around the girth of him as you lick a long flat stripe up the underside. The tip of your tongue tracing the large vein protruding and it makes him exhale a loud breath you didn’t know he was even holding.
“Shit, honey.”
You do it again with a little more mess, spit coating your lips before sucking gently at his sensitive head to collect whatever he already has for you with a greedy tongue. His long fingers find their way into your hair when you take him halfway into the heat of your mouth, humming against him when he starts gently scratching at your scalp.
“S’good for me. Look at you, so pretty like this.”
His praise goes straight between your legs, as you hollow out your cheeks. Spurring you on with his words you try and open up more of your throat for him pumping whatever you couldn’t fit with your hand until you could.
Your nose brushes against the dark patch of hair that frames the base of him when you finally hit your limit. His moan vibrating off the walls echoing through the empty house as you take him deeper than you ever had before.
“God, just like that angel. Taking me so good. Like you were made for this. Made for me.”
You can feel the intensity of his stare, he loves watching you like this. Head bobbing up and down with tears prickling the corners of your eyes that keep looking up at him searching for more. Your tongue swirls around his length in a way that makes him lose his mind while his fingers stay gentle, continuing to play with your hair. His voice is thick with want whispering praises that make you feel special on your knees for him.
The outline of his cock moving inside your throat has him twitching, saliva dripping onto your hand that keeps stroking him while the other starts massaging his heavy balls. His toes curl into the carpet when you somehow fit the rest of him in your mouth, your nose hitting the warm skin of his stomach.
“Fuck! honey, I’m gonna cum, holy shit.” He tugs at your hair signaling to meet his eyes as he starts thrusting up, gagging you just enough to make you restrict around him in a way that has him shooting hot down your throat.
His jaw goes slack, brows pinching together while he holds you right where he wants you, forgetting his gentle nature as his orgasm washes away the stress of his day.
You swallow everything he gives you, making sure to suck him clean as you slowly start releasing him from the confines of your mouth. He shudders with a bob of his Adam's apple when your lips let him go with a loud pop, tears staining your cheeks with a proud smirk. He needed a picture of you like this.
-read more is a bitch line-
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munson-blurbs · 2 months
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Argyle x Fem!Reader smut
Summary: Your plans tonight only involve ordering a pizza, but a conversation with the pizza boy has you craving something very different.
Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), phone sex, masturbation (m! and f!), voice kink, Argyle is a simp as per usual
WC: 1.7k
A/N: This was inspired by me and @word-wytch ordering pizza at Steel City Con where the pizza boy did not want to get off of the phone. Nothing spicy happened, but it made us think...what if it had?
Also, big shout out to @munsonmuses for helping me with the ending. Love you, Addie!
--
“Surfer Boy Pizza, this is Argyle speaking. Can I interest you in a delicious pie? Perhaps the Argyle Special?”
You stare at the shiny brochure in your lap, breath catching in your throat when you hear his voice. You were expecting someone brusque, rushing you off of the line so they can collect the next order, but the man speaking to you might as well be laying on a white sand beach. 
“Um, h-hi,” you wince at the way you stammer, tempted to hang up and save yourself further embarrassment, but you keep the receiver pressed to your ear. Lenora Hills is a fresh start, a place where no one knows you, and you’re determined to spread your wings and become more than the ‘shy, awkward girl.’ So, even though you were going to order a small cheese pie, you push yourself to ask, “what’s the Argyle Special?”
Soft laughter trills from the speaker; it’s warm and welcoming without a hint of malice. “Oh, the Argyle Special? She’s kinda my baby.” Good lord, the way he says baby has your thighs clenching involuntarily. You hear him shuffling a bit, adjusting positions to get more comfortable. “So, we start out with your classic thin crust.” Argyle lowers his voice and adds, “You might think you can toss it in the air a coupla times and call it a day, but you’d be wrong. You gotta knead it, get all the kinks out, right?”
“Mhm.” Your free hand begins to dip below the waistband of your denim shorts before you pull back. What are you doing? Touching yourself to a stranger explaining how to make pizza? “I, uh, I gotta—”
“Next comes the sauce,” he continues, not noticing your interjection. “Now, less is definitely more here, y’know what I’m saying? A little goes a long way.”
You nod, too caught up in the moment to remember that he can’t see you. “A-And then what?”
“Cheese. Enough to achieve that perfect amount of gooey goodness, but not so much that it weighs down the slice.” Another peal of laughter, just as kind as the one earlier. “Some people ask for extra cheese, but in my humble opinion, it takes away from the rest of the toppings, y’know?”
There’s a quiet swishing sound coming from his end, and it draws your attention. “What’re you doing that’s making that noise?”
“Huh? Oh, uh, yo-yo.” Your question has clearly caught him off-guard; instead of further explaining his baby, he asks, “what’re you doing?”
Immediately, your thoughts flit to the way your fingers yearn to be inside you, the way your clit aches to be rubbed each time he talks. But he can’t know that. “N-Nothing. Um, yeah, nothing.”
You can practically hear his brows raise in disbelief. “Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Argyle teases gently. “In fact, it sounds like you’re doing something important.” He pauses for a second. “Lemme guess: top secret CIA mission?”
“No.”
“FBI?”
You giggle despite the embarrassment washing over you. “Not quite.”
There’s silence; his audible breathing is the only way you know he’s still on the line. “You got a really cute laugh.” 
Is he flirting? This is flirting; it has to be. But he doesn’t even know what you look like. 
You don’t know what he looks like, either, and you were about to masturbate to him, you remind yourself wryly. Anything’s possible. 
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah. Sweet but also sexy. A rare combo, if you ask me.” 
You summon all of your courage; the ball is in your court. “I, um, I like your voice.” Heat pools in your cheeks as you say the words. 
“My voice? Shit, I always thought it was kinda goofy. My friend Jonathan says I sound like Cheech and Chong. Well, not, like, both of them, but just…one.” A rustling noise; he’s shaking his head. “Sorry, I’m not good with getting compliments and stuff.”
“S’okay. Me either.” You laugh again, finding the ability to be honest refreshing. “Keep telling me about your special. Your baby,” you amend. 
He exhales a cloud of lust. “Fuck, say ‘baby’ again.” Ah, so it had the same effect on him that it did on you. 
This time, you don’t chastise yourself for the way your fingertips graze your cotton panties. You and Argyle are clearly on the same page. Why fight it? “Tell me more about the Argyle Special, baby.”
“I gotta know first if you’re doing what I’m about to do,” he says breathily. 
“I am,” you affirm, finding your clit easily and applying the lightest pressure. 
A sharp inhale, then, just above a whisper, “Good. So, so good.” He unzips his fly and groans as his hand wraps around his cock. “I’m just gonna talk, and you keep touching yourself for me, okay?”
“Mhm. Just…keep going.”
“Shit, yeah, I got you.” Another moan as he strokes himself, his sentences getting choppier. “The toppings…I like to combine sweet and—mmf—savory.”
You tug your panties aside, slipping your middle finger into your waiting pussy. “Keep going,” you urge, desperate for his silky voice. 
“Some diced g-green pepper…sliced jalapeños…and…” Argyle’s focus is split between listing ingredients and jerking off, and one is evidently winning. 
“And what, baby?” There’s a slight edge to your tone—dare you say, a sultriness—as your ring finger joins your middle, fucking yourself with both of them. 
You’re not the only one who picks up on your newfound confidence. “And pineapple,” he manages. “Comes from a can…fuck, I can hear how wet you are.”
You whimper, forcing air into your lungs. Breathing has never been a manual task until right now. “It’s because of you.” Your fingers move faster; you curl them slightly to maximize your pleasure. “You and your voice.”
“I’d talk all goddamn day for you.” His voice is thick with desire. “I’d do anything you asked me to—oh, fuck,” he grunts. “What would you want me to do if I was with you right now?”
What wouldn’t you want him to do is an easier question, but you try to quickly formulate a response. “I-I’d want you to touch me.”
“More specific, honey,” he tuts. “Where do you want me touching you?”
Everywhere. Anywhere. You think about where your own hand would be if you weren’t holding the phone. “My clit,” you say urgently, “or my…my tits.”
“Mmm, I could put my mouth on one and my fingers on the—”
“No,” you insist, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Fingers only. Need to keep your mouth free so you can talk.”
A chuckle, then, “fair enough. Guess I’ll rub that pretty little clit of yours, huh? Make sure you’re ready f’me.” There’s a soft puh as he spits on his cock to lubricate it. “Wish I was inside of you. Bet you’re so wet…and warm…and—ohh, yeah— so tight…”
“I’m so close,” you whine, absolutely desperate for this orgasm. You tuck the phone between your ear and your shoulder, bring your newly-freed middle finger to your clitoris, now swollen with need. “Please, Argyle, tell me how you’d fuck me.”
“Oh, baby,” he rasps, the schlick of his fist stroking his erection becomes louder, faster. “I want you screaming my name. That sweet little pussy st-stuffed with my cock. And I’ll go deeper…and deeper…and deeper…until you can’t—fucking—take it!” He growls out the last four words. 
It’s enough to drive you to the edge. You don’t tell him you’re cumming, but he knows just from the choked moans that you’re there. Your fingers are shiny with the proof of your arousal as you finish all over them, wishing they belonged to Argyle. Wishing you belonged to Argyle. 
“I’m cumming, fucking shit, h-oh, my God.” He’s in another galaxy now, stars swirling around him as his release spurts from his aching tip and coats his hand in his sticky seed. “Holy fuckin’…whoa.” There’s a brief pause. “Gimme one sec, okay?”
Argyle’s racing across the kitchen, phone dangling from the cord, before you can even respond. “Sorry,” he says, panting and laughing when he returns to the receiver, “had to grab some paper towels and clean myself up. Can’t go walking around with jizz on my hands.” 
“Not a good look,” you agree, the warmth from your giggle melting any residual awkwardness. “You definitely need to wash them, like, a hundred times before you make another pizza.”
“Nah, man; I’m actually clocking out now. You were gonna be my last customer, but, uh…” he trails off, and it occurs to you that you never finished placing your order. “We got a little distracted.”
Distracted is putting it mildly, but you’re in no headspace for a semantics debate. “I guess I’ll have to call back the next time you’re working and try again.”
“Y-Yeah, for sure!” Eagerness dominates his tone, and he tries to rein it in. “Or, um, maybe you can come by in person? I’d like to see the girl who made me cum harder than I have since…ever,” he adds cheekily. 
“Mhm. I can do that.” Can you? Yes, you tell yourself, I can. I’m turning over a new leaf, and that apparently involves having phone sex with the pizza guy and then meeting him for the first time at his job. 
You swear you hear a quiet yet triumphant, “yes!” before he says, “You sure? Because I’d totally get it if you wanted to keep this a one-time thing.” His hesitation indicates that he’s no stranger to unrequited pining, like he’s bracing himself for a rejection. “But I gotta be honest with you; I really wanna see you.”
“I wanna see you, too.” You wrap the springy cord around your forefinger. If his voice could make you feel this way, imagine what he could do with his fingers, his tongue, his…
“I work from noon until six tomorrow, if you wanna stop in?” Argyle cuts into your train of thought. “Or if that’s too soon, then we can just—”
“Argyle?”
“Yeah?”
You smile widely even though there’s no way for him to know that. “See you at six tomorrow.”
--
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roosterforme · 2 years
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Is It Working For You? Part 5 | Rooster x Reader
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Summary: Just a day at the beach. Bradley finally gets some of the answers he wants, and maybe a little more.
Warnings: angst, fluff, some swears, adult banter, getting more into 18+
Length: 5000 words, yes 5000 words JUST FOR YOU!
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
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"What does dress for fun even mean?" you asked Maria through your open door as you tore into your closet the next morning.
"I guess a bathing suit? It's a beach day, make it sexy," she yelled back. You immediately thought of what Rooster might be wearing. Or not wearing. He'd definitely be shirtless at some point, and if you knew anything from the times you'd briefly touched him, the man was ripped. 
"Shit," you whispered as you pulled out your bathing suits. Your body was not the specimen of pure perfection that Bradley's was, but at least it seemed to get the job done. "Purple one piece or black two piece?" you asked Maria.
"Hmmm, black two piece!"
You finished getting ready and inspected yourself in the mirror. It was no string bikini, but you were definitely showing a lot of skin. And your intentionally messy ponytail would be shocking for a work day, but it seemed fine for a day at the beach. You threw on a pair of ripped jean shorts and an oversized tee shirt and headed to your car with your backpack, "I'll meet you there, slowpoke." Maria just gave you the finger in response.
The parking lot above the seaside cliffs beach was narrow, and you snagged one of the last open spots, right next to Bradley's Bronco. Your heart danced in your chest, excited and nervous to see him. You had been waxing poetic about how much you liked him while you were at the Hard Deck, but he hadn't really given you much of a response. Of course, you'd had an awful lot to drink, and hopefully he was just being gentlemanly. But would he be happy to see you today? You also really needed to talk to him about how you felt.
You realized you were going to have to climb down a lot of rocks to get to the beach below, and you wished you had worn something better than your boat shoes. Very gingerly, you took your time safely navigating the boulders all the way down toward the sand. But you slipped and nearly landed on your ass as soon as you saw Bradley. Phoenix had said all of the guys got attention from the locals, and you agreed, they were a good looking bunch. But Bradley was just ridiculously hot. He turned so his back was to you, and he was talking with Coyote and Bob. Just as you hopped off the last of the rocks onto the sand, Bradley reached behind his neck and yanked off his US Navy tee shirt, tossing it to the sand. 
Your lust ridden body was moving at a snail's pace. You didn't know where to go. Thirty feet ahead of you stood the sexiest man you'd ever seen, and you were only looking at his back for fuck's sake. Bob waved to you, and Bradley turned your way to see who was there. 
"Y/N," he called with a smile, seemingly happy to see you. 
His cut off denim shorts rode below his belly button, and he had perfect six pack abs. You could just barely see the waistband of his underwear, and you wanted to run your fingers along it. His body was literally a 6'1" fantasy. 
He ran a hand through his hair and adjusted his sunglasses. As he took a step in your direction, you felt your thighs clench together, and you almost moaned out loud. It was going to be a long day. 
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So you had decided to come to the beach. Bradley knew Maverick had invited a lot of the support staff for the day as well, but so far Hondo was the only one who had shown up. But now you were here, looking beyond adorable. God, he wanted to get you alone and make you explain to him exactly where he stood with you. 
"Y/N! I saved you a spot!" Phoenix called from behind Bradley. And you took off in her direction, just giving Bradley a nervous smile on your way past. He turned and watched you spread your large beach towel out near Phoenix and Halo in what he heard you all referring to as 'the girls' corner '.
Well that just wouldn't do. He gave you a couple minutes to settle in as he walked down to the water to rinse off his arms and cool down a bit. But, then he went and crashed that party. 
"Forgot my towel. Yours looks big enough to share," he announced before plopping down on your towel and lounging back on his elbows.
"Excuse you, this is the girls' corner. Get out," Phoenix told him, pointing toward the area where some of the guys were lounging about. 
"No, I like it over here," he replied as he looked up at you. 
You sighed dramatically and took your sunblock and water bottle out of your bag. "I guess you can stay, but we will be talking about you boys and all manner of other girly things."
"That's cool. I'm very in touch with my feminine side. And I also have a lot of opinions on these guys." 
Halo and Phoenix laughed, but Bradley's breath caught in his throat as you unbuttoned your shorts and shimmied them down your legs. After you neatly folded them and tucked them away, you brought your hands up along your hips and under your shirt. As you pulled it up and over your head, he bit back a groan, completely hypnotized by the expanse of your pristine skin and your cleavage. 
He'd probably made a bad decision by hijacking half of your towel, but it was too late. He was already here, and now you were applying sunblock to your legs. God, those fucking legs. He was dying to touch your skin. He watched you glance between Phoenix and him a few times before holding out the bottle in his direction. 
"Will you do my back?"
Bradley was more than willing to do so, so much to your back... your whole body, really, if he was allowed to. He quickly got himself into a seated position and patted the spot in front of him on the towel. After a second of hesitation, you carefully sat cross legged a few inches in front of him. 
The first swipe of lotion across your shoulder had you leaning back a bit, and Bradley used his big hands to gently rub it into your soft skin. As his fingers dipped underneath your bathing suit strap, he could feel you exhale sharply. He took his time, going over every inch of your back two times with his hands. He let his fingertips rub into your lower back just above your suit bottoms. As he brought his hands up to the back of your neck, he noticed you had stopped conversing with Halo and Phoenix and seemed to be enjoying this little backrub as much as he was. You hadn't pulled away from him. In fact you had been inching closer. He caressed the back of your neck softly, touching the wisps of your hair that had come loose from your ponytail. 
If any of the guys were watching, Bradley would surely be in for a ribbing about this later. And Hangman would try to make his life a living hell if he saw any of this. But you were melting into his touch, so it was worth it. Phoenix had a shit-eating grin on her face, but surely she wouldn't make fun of him too much, since she already knew what a mess Bradley was over you. 
"All done," he whispered to you as he let his fingers drift away from your skin. 
Your simple response of, "Mm, thank you, Bradley," went right to his cock. He was good and fucked at this point, so he just let himself collapse onto his back on your towel. He closed his eyes and listened in on the promised girl talk and the sounds of the ocean. Apparently Phoenix and Halo both used to have a crush on Coyote. That could be good blackmail information for later. Then you told the girls a funny story about a horrible date you went on a few years ago, and your laugh washed over him like the warm sunshine. 
It was still pretty early, and some of the aviators and others were still slowly arriving at the beach. At one point he heard Maverick announce that he had a cooler of drinks and had ordered sandwiches for everyone for lunch. He knew this was supposed to be a team building day, so he was going to try to push aside his feelings about Maverick and make the best of it. 
And it didn't hurt that you broke away from the girl talk to lay down next to him. When Bradley turned his head toward you and opened his eyes, he could tell you were already looking at him through your sunglasses. You both sized each other up for a few minutes, Bradley slowly memorizing the shape of your lips and the curve of your cheeks. Finally he reached out his index finger and tapped your hand. "Wanna talk?" he asked quietly.
"Not really, but yeah, I guess we should. I'm sorry, Bradley. I was pretty out of line on Saturday night. I... shouldn't have butted in on you when you were talking to your two new... friends."
He swallowed hard. "So you want to be just friends with me then?"
"No, that's not what I said. Oh, this is so embarrassing," you groaned and propped your head up on one elbow so you were looking right at him. It took a lot of willpower for Bradley to pry his eyes away from your chest and focus on what you were saying. "I just can't believe I did that. I-I came at you like you were mine or something, and I'm sorry. I think it was the tequila talking, but I know that's not an excuse."
"Sweetheart, I wasn't interested in those girls. I'm interested in you. And you said you liked me. You said you were attracted to me. Was that the tequila talking?" Bradley was ready to beg you for answers if needed.
Sweetheart again. You couldn't handle it. You puffed out a little laugh and a blush crept along your neck and cheeks, now refusing to meet his eyes. "No, that was the sober truth. Drunk truth, too, I guess. But I do like you, and I am attracted to you."
"Then why did you turn me down when I asked you out?" he asked, his heart pounding in his ears.
"I didn't turn you down, I told you not to ask me out at all."
"Is there really a difference?"
"No, I guess not. But I know how you guys are. And I know how I am. And I'm scared ," you whispered.
Bradley liked you so much, he couldn't imagine a world where he would do anything to you that would scare you or hurt you. He would take you out wherever you wanted to go. He would hold you against him and kiss your neck. He would listen to every single thing you had to say. He would appreciate you. He would make love to you exactly how you wanted him to. "Why are you scared? And what can I do to show you that you don't have to be scared of me?"
You raised an eyebrow at him before taking a deep breath. "When I got serious with my last boyfriend, he changed his mind part way through. And then recently when I tried to keep a casual friends with benefits thing going, the guy changed his mind and suddenly wanted to be serious with me. I'm tired of trusting the guys I shouldn't, and having others demand of me what I don't want to give them. And don't even get me started on how dating another officer could impact my career with the Navy."
That made a lot of sense to Bradley. And maybe he wasn't the only one with some issues here. "And does that leave any room at all for me?"
Your only response was your fingers tangling with his on the towel.
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Your friends finally showed up hours after you had. Now you were sitting on the rocks with Cam and Maria, eating sandwiches and drinking lemonade. 
"Rooster keeps looking at you," Cam noted as he worked on his third sandwich. 
"She keeps looking at him too," Maria added.
They weren't wrong. Bradley was playing volleyball with some of the others, and you were pretty sure he had missed a few shots, because he'd been smiling at you. All you had done was gently held hands with him while you relaxed in the sun, but you'd felt a little bit lighter and fuzzy around the edges since then. 
"No comment," you said as you hopped up from the rocks and started walking toward the water.
"Seriously?! I'm practically employed as your life coach and you won't tell me what's up?" Maria called as she and Cam followed you to the water.
Then all of the guys plus Halo and Phoenix made their way loudly toward the water's edge as well, and Hangman had a football in each hand. Hondo was sorting everyone into two teams. His hand connected with your shoulder as he said, "Blue Team".  
"Huh? What's happening here?" you asked Halo as she was sorted onto the Red Team.
"It's dog-fight football. Offense and defense at the same time. You'll love it."
"How is it offense and defense at the same time?" you asked, frantically trying to find your teammates. 
"It makes sense once you start the game. I'll help you out," said Coyote, who had somehow been selected to be captain and quarterback of your Blue Team.
"Listen up!" yelled Hondo. "I'll keep score. Don't make me call penalties, because it will piss me off. Absolutely no tackling into the sand. And... everyone on the losing team does fifty pushups!" 
Your eyes bugged out, unsure if you'd done that many pushups in the last six months.You had a desk job for crying out loud, and basic training had been a decade ago.
"Maybe I'll just sit this one out," you muttered and tried to sneak away. But Bradley appeared in front of you, shaking his head. "At least let me put my shorts and shirt on over my bathing suit before we start," you pleaded, thinking if you could just get back to your towel, everyone would forget about you.
Bradley took you by the elbow and pulled you back into place, lined up next to your teammates Coyote and Bob. "You have to play, or it will be an uneven number. And I promise, there's nothing to be afraid of," he said, crossing his heart with his index finger. Then he lined up directly across from you with the Red Team and crouched down, hand planted in the wet sand, biceps bulging. You mimed his actions, causing him to burst into laughter. "Now that's intimidating. I'm a little scared, actually."
"Oh, shove it, Rooster!"
"She's already trash talking!" exclaimed Bob. "Kick his butt, Lieutenant Y/L/N!!"
Hondo blew his whistle, and everyone took off running in every direction. You saw Maria pulling Cam through the water, and Phoenix had somehow already scored a touchdown before you even moved. But there was so much chaos, you managed to distract Hangman by calling his name, and you got him to pass to you, even though you weren't on his team.
"Oh no," you gasped when you caught the ball. Then you were off, ducking and running as Payback, the intended receiver, was headed right toward you. Maverick provided some cover, and you scored for your team. 
Halo was right, you were loving this.
"Damn it, Bradshaw! She's fast! Cover her better!" Payback yelled as you jumped up and down with the ball.
"Yeah, I've got her," Bradley replied as you and he lined up across from each other once again. You stuck your tongue out at him in response to his smirk. "She's all mine." 
Now Bradley was on offense, and you had to figure out how to keep the football out of his hands.
"Shit," you gasped as he caught a beautiful pass from Hangman. Unsure of how to stop him from scoring, you jumped directly into his arms. Maybe you could get him to drop the ball?
Nope, not a chance. Bradley scooped you up one handed and hauled you along with him and the football. He adjusted his forearm under your butt, and his massive hand wrapped around your thigh, holding you against his abs. You grabbed his shoulders as he picked up speed and dodged Bob. You tried not to get turned on as his fingers gripped your leg harder. And you tried so hard to keep your hands still, but you couldn't deny yourself the feel of his shoulders then collarbone and then neck beneath your palms.
"Nice try, but that was never gonna work," Bradley whispered against your left ear. That raspy voice left you speechless as he set you gently down in the sand. The loss of contact with his warm body almost made you whine for him to pick you up again.  
Lining up across from Bradley over and over again was exhausting. Sure, the game was tiring you out, but trying to stay calm while presented with his body was mentally taxing. It was as much a form of foreplay as your banter had been. If you moved to the right, he followed you. If he tried to sneak around behind Halo, you were there. Offense or defense, it didn't matter; your hands were all over each other. Sand and water splashed and sprayed up everywhere, adding texture to his glistening, sweaty body.
Oh, how you wanted more.
When Hondo blew the whistle for the two minute warning, you were on defense. Bradley crouched down, planted his hand and slowly shook his head at you. "Come on, Y/N. Show me what you got."
The pass came right toward you both. You jumped and tried to catch it, but he was too tall. He paused and tried to gauge what you were going to do, so you went with your one and only move. You jumped directly into his arms again, wrapping your legs around his waist, and his hand came up to your thigh again. This time you tried to knock the ball out of his hands, but he just laughed and held it high above his head. You felt your chest smashing into his as you scrambled to reach for the ball. Your nipples were so hard, and you knew he could feel them. He ran for the touchdown and tossed the ball back over his shoulder.
"Come on, Baby Girl. I thought we already established that isn't gonna work," he rasped against your neck as his other hand came up to your waist with a squeeze. 
Baby Girl. Fuck, you were on the verge of combustion. His mustache was tickling your neck as he chuckled, and his grip on your body was unrelenting.
You faintly heard the Red Team cheering as they had tallied more points when he scored, but he kept his attention on you.
"You keep doing this, and a guy might think he has a chance with you."
You couldn't respond, you were too turned on. If you opened your mouth, you would definitely kiss him. If you moved your hands from his shoulders, they would end up in his messy, sandy hair. Bradley just slowly lowered your aching body back to the ground, and when your feet hit the water, he winked and told you, "I think it's time for your push-ups."
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Bradley watched you struggle through your push-ups, but you never gave up. He'd come to appreciate that about you; you were smart, resourceful and determined.
And honestly, he was thankful to have a moment to cool down. Your whole body had been wrapped around him, twice. It was too much. He had been on the verge of kissing your lips and dragging your body against the front of his shorts, where he really needed you.
"Good game, Bradshaw," you told him when you were finally finished with push-ups. You were looking at him like you wanted to jump into his arms again. You shouldn't be looking at him like that, not in front of everyone.
"I really had a lot of fun, Y/N," he replied, hoping nobody else could hear how horny he sounded. 
He watched you swallow hard and then turn back toward your towel.
"God damnit," Bradley muttered as he took off in the other direction. He needed to get away from you, or soon everyone else on that beach was going to know without a doubt that he had it bad for you. They probably already did. Anyone with eyes could see the way he reacted to you every single time you were around him. He grabbed a drink out of the cooler and downed the whole thing.
"Well, that was hot," Phoenix crooned behind him. "Jeez, Rooster, you could at least take her back home before you maul her apart."
"Fuck, everyone knows now?" he asked, his voice pleading.
Phoenix just shook her head in a maybe motion. "I don't think so. I can just tell with you how big of a deal this is. The others probably just think you turned your flirt meter way up for the day."
This did not help calm his nerves at all.
"But it's going to be okay. I've got your back," she said with a saucy wink that did not bode well with him.
Bradley took a walk along the water alone, stopping to wash some of the sand from his body and hair. The sun was starting to dip lower in the afternoon heat, and there had been talk about everyone meeting up to get burgers and then going to the Hard Deck for drinks. It was nice to see everyone getting along today. Maverick was even going to buy the first round. Apparently nothing got aviators more excited than free drinks. 
He turned to see some of the group had already started the climb back up to the parking lot, but you hadn't left yet. You were taking your own solo walk along the far side of the cove, so he took his time before gathering his things together. 
"Bye. See you at the Burger Shack," Phoenix said as she rushed past Bradley, arms filled with stuff as she headed for the boulders. 
"You need help with all of that?"
"I'm doing you a favor," she called back. "You can't help me do you a favor, that's not how it works!" 
There were officially zero women in Bradley's life that made any sense or made things easier for him. 
And now it was just you and him left on the beach as the sun dipped lower. He got his shirt and shoes back on and tucked his keys and phone into his pockets as you slowly traipsed back from the water's edge. 
"Wanna walk up with me?" he asked as you picked up your towel. 
"Where's all my stuff?" you asked, looking around frantically. "I thought my bag was under my towel. My teal backpack had everything in it. My phone and keys and everything."
Bradley glanced around at nothing but empty sand. "I'll bet someone grabbed it by accident. Here, call your phone." He unlocked his and handed it to you as he realized who the culprit most certainly was. 
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Your phone rang and rang and rang. After the third try, you realized nobody was going to answer it. Now you were so mad you'd never taken the time to set up that remote phone tracker app. 
"It's probably with someone at the Burger Shack," Bradley reassured you, shoving his phone back in his pocket. "I can give you a ride there, we can get your bag, and then I'll bring you back to get your car."
You looked up at him and laughed, pushing your sunglasses to the top of your head. "Bradley, I don't have anything except my towel. I don't even have shoes, and it will take me all night to climb up the rocks with bare feet." 
Bradley looked down at your feet as you wiggled your painted toes around. "I can carry you."
"I can't ask you to do that!"
"Then don't ask, just get on," he said, gesturing for you to jump on for a piggyback ride.
You hesitated for a moment, but then conceded, draping your towel around your shoulders. The man had already carried you up to your apartment and that hadn't killed him. "Okay..." you mumbled as he crouched down a little and you hopped up onto his back. You squealed and wrapped your arms around his neck as he grabbed your thighs with both large hands and hoisted you a little higher.
"You okay back there?" he asked, and you could hear a smile in his voice. Of course you were okay, his biceps were rubbing against your sides.
"As long as you are." But he was already starting up the rocks, taking his time to make sure he had good footing. You held on a little tighter and rested your chin on his left shoulder, anxious to see where he was going to step next. He felt so strong, his back pressed against your front. And he smelled so good, you wanted to bury your nose against his warm skin. The thin layers of fabric between you both were doing nothing to keep the butterflies at bay. "I honestly don't know how you are doing this. I almost fell on my ass walking down here earlier!"
Bradley chuckled. "You might be surprised by the things I would be willing to do for a chance to carry a cute girl around."
You could feel yourself blushing hard as your legs rubbed along the soft cotton tee covering his back as he moved. "Will you let me buy you a burger later?" you asked.
"No."
"How about a beer at the Hard Deck?"
"No."
"Well then, what will you let me do?" you whispered in his ear, almost screaming when he audibly groaned in reply.
"There's only one thing I want."
"Oh really? What's that?" 
"I want you to admit that you can't get enough of me, and that's why you jumped on me twice during football." He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye behind his sunglasses with a grin.
You were quiet for a moment as he continued the journey upwards, finally nearing the top.
"Okay, first of all, how am I supposed to defend against someone roughly twice my size? It should have been Bob playing against you! Second, that was my only move, Bradshaw. Other than flinging myself at you like a flying squirrel and hoping for the best, there was no better option. And third...."
"Yes, go on..." he teased as you two reached the top of the hill, the beach now far below you. You were coming up quickly to the Bronco as Bradley carried you in that direction. 
"Well, third, yeah... you know. Come on, you know you look good, Rooster." 
"Not as good as you, Sweetheart," he rasped as he let go of your leg with his right hand and quickly unlocked the passenger door. He pulled it open and gently bent to set you down on the passenger seat. You slid into place and tossed your towel to the floor as he turned to face you. "Not as good as you."
You needed to feel him against you again. It was the only pressing thing now, your missing backpack totally forgotten. Bradley leaned toward you and wrapped the seat belt around your bare torso, his fingers gently grazing your left side as he clicked it into place. Before he could remove his hand, you grabbed it with your left one. You reached up with your right hand, removed his sunglasses and tossed them onto the driver's seat, revealing a look of longing in his eyes. Then you let your fingertips trail along the scars on his cheek. His eyes closed for a few beats as you pushed your fingers up over his ear and into his hair. His eyes opened again, pleading with you as you played with his messy hair, your fingers moving to the back of his neck. 
You pulled him closer and closer until you pressed your lips against his. You should have been embarrassed by the broken sigh that escaped you, but his hands were both immediately on your waist, and you were gone. He drew little circles on your skin with his thumbs as he explored your lips gently with his mouth, his mustache tickling your upper lip in the most delicious way.
You kissed and nibbled on his lips, now using both hands to pull him in tighter to you. Your nose bumped his as you changed positions slightly, leaning up to feel the pressure of your chest against his. With a moan, he used his mouth to part your lips, and you could feel the tip of his tongue against yours. 
He tasted so good and so warm. Your fingers dipped into the collar of his shirt as you teased and tasted each other over and over. When his lips danced over your chin and along your jaw, you really dug your hands into his hair. You had to squeeze your legs together to stop from crying out as his mouth connected with your neck, nipping just below your ear. 
"Baby Girl," he whispered and you almost lost yourself completely. Then his phone rang loudly causing you to jump back an inch. 
You looked at each other, panting slightly as he checked who was calling.
He cleared his throat a few times before saying, "I think someone is calling back from your phone."
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I can't thank you enough for reading along!
Part 6
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2K notes · View notes
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Tips for making actually cheap punk clothes from someone that has spent a maximum of $11 on any specific project over 3 years:
Bottle caps make AMAZING pins. There's countless ways to make bottlecap pins, but I mainly do it by 1) filling the cap with hot glue and 2) gluing a safety pin to the back. It's up to the individual. But the point is: Save bottlecaps.
DRINK CANS ARE AMAZING FOR MAKING SPIKES! Any aluminum can works - Monster cans, beer cans, etc. - all you have to do is cut off the tops and bottoms; make it a flat sheet; cut the metal into small semicircles; and roll it into cones. They stay in place easily with hot glue, and when you put them onto anything, they look just as good as store-bought.
Save Can Tabs. They can be put onto jackets, made into chains, earrings, necklaces, or anything else you want.
Literally anything can be made punk. Jeans, cargo pants, denim jackets, t-shirts, shoes, hoodies - the sky's the limit. Don't let these tiktok punks tell you that only their $80 Social Distortion pants and $120 denim jackets can be punk. Any clothes you pull out of a dumpster can be punkified.
Old T-shirts that no longer fit and have a design on them can be cut out and made into backpieces. Band shirts are particularly great for this, so if you thrift a Motorhead shirt that's too small, you can cut out the design and sew it onto a jacket and bam - you've got an exclusive piece of merch.
This one's more of an opinion, but: If you're patching up a jacket, sew the patches onto the outside of the jacket. If you're patching up pants, create holes where you want the design, and sew the patches from the inside of the pants.
Do research. If a "thrift store" calls itself a cheap alternative store, but has $50 jeans, it's not a thrift store. It's a vintage reseller, and the clothes are almost always WAY overpriced.
Shoplift carefully. Go somewhere you don't usually go - a large chain like Walmart or Target or Staples, not a local business - and take small things. Don't go somewhere that you're a regular at, or shoplift multiple times in a short period of times, or do too much at once. You will develop a track record and have more of a chance of being caught. However, the workers don't get paid less for you stealing, and the big suits in corporate won't notice or care about a missing pack of dental floss.
Experiment! Have fun with it! I've been Frankenstein-ing my jacket for years and counting - I've taken off the sleeves, added new sleeves, painted on it, put patches on it, added pins, anything you can think of. Be loud, be ugly, be weird, be happy.
If you have a painted patch or spot on pants/a jacket/whatever and it's old, but you want to take it off now, or if you just made a mistake, acetone can get pretty much any amount and age of paint out of any fabric. By acetone, I mean most nail polish removers or rubbing alcohols.
Now, I hate buying things for making punk clothes, but there are a few things that, in my opinion, are investments that last FOREVER. This includes: Hot glue guns; nail polish remover (for the last tip, mainly); paint pens and containers of paint (fabric or not); sharpies; dental floss or just normal thread; fabric scissors; and SAFETY PINS. None of them are very expensive, but they'll come in handy for years.
ESPECIALLY SHARPIES. That's the one thing I won't debate is a perfect investment. You can get a set of 12 colors or 12 black ones for like $9, and you can use them for EVERYTHING. The color also won't bleed when washed, as opposed to most pens and markers.
SAFETY PINS ARE A FASHION STATEMENT IN AND OF ITSELF. They're super useful in making clothes and jewelry, they're cheap and easy to find, and just nice to line the hems of your pants with.
When you make a square patch, fold in the edges slightly so that the edges don't fray. This makes it slightly harder to sew on, but it keeps the patch in good condition for longer - unless the idea is to look tattered. Then don't.
Don't be afraid to add something random and weird to your clothing because "oh people are gonna see it and know I like this weird niche thing" - that's the whole point! It's an expression of who YOU are, not what people want you to be. If people - especially other punks - judge you for it, fuck them. Unless...
No swastikas, no iron crosses, no symbols of oppression, no TERF shit. I'd say that's the only rule of punk - to say "oppression is punk" is going against everything punk stands for. Of course, if you do it anyways, you should at least know you deserve the beating you get at a basement show attended by underpaid and rage-filled faggots.
Of course, these are just mine, and there's plenty more that I do not know. If you've got your own way of doing things that goes against mine, that's awesome. But if you need to start somewhere as a kid punk, I hope this helped.
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campbyler · 8 months
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hello!
this is a little bit random, but do the characters have any specific hairstyles you'd been envisioning for them? or any specific vibes/style when it comes to clothes?
i really like to doodle and this fic is my current brain-focus, so i was curious!
hello suni here! thea answered with some hair references for the entire party here but because i am extra as all hell, here are moodboards for mike and will’s styles (with more for the rest of the party to follow)!
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acswy will is a big fan of sweaters and stripes (!!) and he looooves a good colorblock moment! i see him in a lot of earth tones (it’s easier for him to match and layer that way. he’s just like me fr) with the exception of a few choice colors (bright yellow, red, etc). to Us he’s also a shoes guy but in a very lowkey and Normal manner which is why the bowie reeboks have been in my pinterest board for camp au will for months now bc i think he sees them somewhere and then saves up for months to buy them and then immediately refuses to wear them anywhere out of fear of getting them dirty lol (also peep the byler shoes 👁️👁️) he’ll prioritize comfort over fashion a lot of the time — ergo the infamous hanes six pack of t-shirts from chapter 1 — but when it’s not one million degrees out and when he is not about to get covered in dirt, this is the look he’s going for!
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to us acswy mike is also a big proponent of comfort and and practicality but he’s also a grade A dork LOL he has a thing about jackets the way will has a thing about shoes so thrift finds like his beloved leather and denim jackets are a staple for most of the year! (not summer though. obviously.) i think he would love a good crewneck + shorts moment in the spring especially (the “shorty short shorts” are literally the length of the shorts in the middle photo so idk what will was getting so worked up about 🙄) and he owns one million really stupid shirts that he wears all the time that will definitely does not find endearing. also to us mike loves collecting vintage pins so below the cut are some we think he would have been so so so excited to find:
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(the whale one was admittedly a little self indulgent bc i want that pin but who cares i think he’d like it)
+ links: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8
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icyharrington · 1 year
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Hayyyy prompt 13 & 18 with Stevie ??
Yesss OKAY ill do them as 2 separate ones if that’s ok?? Also I’m sorry this turned out way longer than I intended, I think it’s around 2k words so not exactly a blurb lmfao but ohhh well ^_^
Contains: vaginal sex, car sex, bratty reader, daddy kink (sorry to those who aren’t into that lmaoo i just feel like steve has a daddy kink)
13. “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.”
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It’s just about sundown, and Steve pulls down the visor of his car with a grimace as he’s hit head-on by a potent ray of orangey light. “Jesus, that’s fucking blinding!”
The situation isn’t much better on the passenger side, where you’re seated in your denim shorts and crop top, thigh bouncing with excess energy from hours of remaining still. You dip your head down to avoid the beams of sun, sighing impatiently. “How close are we to the motel?”
“You’re the one with the goddamn map, (y/n)!” he snaps irritably, clearly struggling to maneuver his head between you and the sunbathed road. “Shit! It’s like someone’s shining a flashlight right in my eyes!”
It’s been approximately twelve hours since your road trip to California with your boyfriend had commenced, and Steve had gotten it in his head to take some of the backroads during rush hour in order to avoid the traffic. He turned out to be right about that theory, with the roads being sparsely populated for miles on end, but neither of you have any clue where you are anymore. “Just fucking pull over at this point.”
Steve complies with your suggestion, forearm flexing deliciously as he shifts his beloved BMW into park, choosing a shady spot out of the way of the street. He’s visibly stressed, with his hair starting to go limp due to an extended period without a Vera Fawcett touch-up. “Let me see the map. I marked where the motel is, so we just need to figure out where we are right now.”
He retrieves the pen he has tucked behind his ear, clicking the back down with his mouth as he swipes the gigantic map from your hands. Resting it up against the dashboard, he scans the tiny dots and letters with knit brows until he finally turns back to you with a solemn expression. “Yeah, I  have no fucking clue where we are.”
“Well, this sucks,” you gripe, sliding down in your seat until your butt is hanging off, like you’re melting into a puddle right there on the floor of Steve’s car. “I’m so fucking bored.”
“Well, damn! Sorry that you don’t like playing I Spy with me!” Steve says, appearing genuinely offended. “Just give me a few minutes and I can figure this out, okay? We can’t be more than an hour away from the place.”
“Oh, fantastic. Only an hour?” you groan, not attempting to hide your sarcasm in the slightest.
Steve shoots you a pointed glare, opening his mouth to speak before apparently deciding against it, instead giving you an incredulous shake of his head. Then he goes back to studying the map, leaning forward as he rests his elbows on his denim-clad knees.
You stare at him from where you still sit slumped, pushing yourself back up onto the seat so you can stretch your bare legs out in front of you. Your shorts are impossibly short and high-waisted, to the point where the pockets stick out the back; they’re Steve’s favorite, not that he’s paying you any attention in them right now. Your sneakers have been discarded into the backseat, leaving your lower half bare save for a pair of calf-length tube socks.
Resting one leg onto the dashboard, you use the other to nudge Steve with your foot. “Steve.”
He keeps his eyes fixed on the map, rubbing the underside of his chin pensively. “I’m kinda in the middle of something, (y/n).”
Rolling your eyes, you give him another poke, kicking your legs up into the air once his focus is back on you. You can see the way his hazel eyes linger on the smooth expanse of your thighs and calves, jaw just barely clenching at the sight.
You just can’t stop yourself from distracting him; after all this time  staying put, you’re in desperate need for some action.
“No,” he says sternly, as you return your foot to his leg, rubbing him playfully. “Do you want to get to the motel by the end of the night or not?”
“But I’m so horny,” you whine, a pout evident on your painted lips. You dance your legs back and forth in front of you, using one hand to idly pull at the front of your top. “I can’t stop thinking of your big dick filling me up.”
You hear his breath catch in his throat, a rosy flush rising to prominence in his angular cheeks. He glances down to your cleavage, which you show off to him proudly, stretching the fabric down even further until your lacy pink bra is on full display. “Fuck. Babe, please- you know I want you, but we need to figure this out before it starts to get dark. I’ll give it to you good when we get to the motel, yeah? I promise.”
He draws a cross over his heart with his fingertips, but you aren’t satisfied with the declaration. The more you look at him, the more you crave him- the smell of his shampoo and musky deodorant, and his aftershave, buried in the crook of your neck and sinking into your skin, pressed as closely as your atoms will allow. The thought makes your head spin, a burning urge making itself known in the pit of your stomach.
You center your vision on him, with his plump lips and cutting jaw, fixing your eyes into wide, deceptively sweet pools of longing; your mouth is slightly parted as you take sharp gulps of oxygen into your lungs, your heart racing at the prospect of getting what you want. He can’t resist you when you’re like this, all faux-innocent and needy, which is exactly the reason why you’re putting this show on for him.
“But Steve…” you purr, tits heaving with each quickened breath. “I need you.”
You can sense that he’s trying not to fall into your trap, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he shakes his head slowly. “If you keep looking at me like that, we won’t make it to a bed.”
“So?” you counter, lashes fluttering. Unbuttoning your shorts with a quirk of your eyebrow, you test him, bringing the fabric down just low enough that he can see the lace of your panties peeking out.
“Ah, shit. Fuck it. Get over here.”
You’re unable to contain your excitement, squealing out gleefully as Steve undoes his jeans, wiggling his hips in order to pull them lower. He scowls at you resentfully, but the edges of his lips twitch as he fights back a smirk.
“What’re you waiting for, huh? You were the one begging me for my big dick- now hurry up and strip for me.” He licks his lips, pulling his boxers down with his jeans to reveal his semi-hard cock, the view of which makes your mouth water.
You follow through with Steve’s commands, figuring they’re only fair. There’s a sense of pride that washes over you when you witness Steve grow fully hard, seemingly in perfect time with you removing your skimpy top and even-skimpier shorts. You don’t take off your matching bra and panty set from Victoria’s Secret, seeing that you would rather not be seen butt naked in the middle of who-knows-where by some pervy truck driver, and also because it’s cute and you spent a lot of money on it.
Steve doesn’t complain, though; his teeth sink into his lower lip as his eyes drink in your figure, draped all in lingerie that you purchased specifically with him in mind.
“You like it, Steve?” you ask, although the dumbfounded look on his face already gives away the answer to your question. “I got it just for you.”
“You are so goddamn sexy,” he mutters, taking a greedy hold of your backside with both hands as you climb into his lap. “Fuck the underwear. It’s all you.”
“Oh, please,” you giggle, flustered by his complimentary nature, though you should probably be used to it at this point. “You’re just saying that.”
Steve reaches between your legs, a low groan escaping his throat when he discovers how aroused you are, petting you experimentally through the brightly colored lace that veils your pussy. “Mhm. Don’t try and play modest, baby. You know you always drive me crazy. Now c’mon and ride me.”
He tugs your panties to one side, holding them in place for you while you position yourself to straddle him. Once your narrow, slick entrance is lined up with the wide tip of his cock, he brings his hands to support your hips, hissing as he guides you down into his lap.
His length stretches you wide, just like every other time he fucks you- he isn’t just being delusional when he claims to be packing, like most of the other college-age boys are. It hurts a little in the beginning, but he peppers your throat with open-mouthed kisses until your thoughts are incoherent, and you hardly notice the burning pain anymore. “Steve…”
“That’s my girl,” he praises lowly, his fingertips digging possessively into the padded flesh of your upper thighs; his face is hidden in your neck, words vibrating against your jugular, and you’re so overwhelmed with arousal that all you can do is whimper. “Won’t stop whining until daddy splits her on his cock, will she?”
You shake your head deviously, rocking your hips in a slow, easy rhythm; you tilt your head back, eyes blurred and vacant as Steve trails his veined hands up and down your body, cupping your breasts through your bra before traveling one down to rub circles on your clit. “Yeah. My babygirl’s being so nice and quiet for me now, finally.”
His voice is raspy, shaking; he thrusts his hips up underneath you, causing you to cry out, moving up and down on him faster. Steve slides the straps of your bra down your shoulders in preparation to free your breasts from their obscuring garment, attaching his lips to the space in between your breasts and collarbone and leaving bruises in his wake. “That’s it, baby. Take my cock like a- fuck- good girl.”
There’s sweat beading on your forehead, and you wrap your arms around him, needing his scent to envelope you entirely. You’re both moaning, immersed in your shared state of lustful bliss as he fucks you open, so hard and deep that you can practically feel him in your throat.
He continues circling your clit with his fingers, pushing in hard to make you squirm. His teeth scrape alongside your nipple, breaking several blood vessels in the process, which he takes obvious delight in. “If I make you cum on my dick, will you be a good girl for the rest of our trip? Hm?”
You pretend like you’re thinking about it, though at the moment you’re not exactly able to form a cohesive idea. “Maybe if you make me cum r-really hard…” you choke out, shocked by how much you’re struggling with the simple task of speaking.
He takes your face in his hand, eyes narrowing sternly. “No. It’s either yes or no, or you get nothing at all, ‘kay?”
“Fine! I’ll be a good girl, Steve, I swear. Just make me cum,” you beg, boosting your momentum so that you’re bouncing on him, your pussy taking his massive length with obscene, wet sounds. “Please?”
He chuckles at the panicked tilt of your voice, rolling his body underneath your own as he massages your clit in fervent, nonsensical shapes. “S’what I thought. Go on and cum for me, baby.”
As if he’s just recited some type of spell, your body obeys him without hesitation; an unabashedly loud cry escapes you as the orgasm ripples throughout your body, your walls clamping tightly around him.
Steve’s lips curve into a smirk as he observes you coming undone in his lap, stroking your hair affectionately when you eventually collapse into his chest, gasping with exhaustion.
“Good girl,” he whispers, tracing his right hand back and forth up your spine. “Now will you stop whining and distracting me?”
You let out a puff of air, your voice muffled by the fabric of Steve’s old band t-shirt. “Fine. As long as I can make you cum now, too.”
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piratefishmama · 1 year
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Crossing the line | Part 8
“What do I wear, what do I wear, ROBIN WHAT DO I WEAR?! Do I wear this? Or—or this? He said he—”
“Steven Marlon Harrington if you do not put that sweater vest down this INSTANT I will burn it. I’ll open the window—”
“You can’t open the window it doesn’t open this high up, and that’s not my middle name.”
“I will BREAK open the window and set that highly flammable offense to the eyes on fire then throw it out of said window. Put it down.”
“But he said he liked the idea of the sweater vest! He got all ‘oh nooo’ when I said I wasn’t going to wear it!”
“You keep your kinky shit out of my first metal gig experience, Steven, you keep it far away from my metal gig experience.”
“You didn’t even want to GO! How is it KINKY?”
It was Tuesday, specifically 7:49pm Tuesday evening.
After their magical first meeting in that coffee shop, Steve had promised, hand on heart, that he wouldn’t go back to the coffee shop before the gig. Something that Steve had balked at because he wanted an authentic coffee shop au experience dammit. But Eddie had put his foot down, claimed it’d be unfair.
Eddie wanted him to experience the gig, he wanted him to experience it, experience who Eddie actually was outside of the apron and the indie coffee shop aesthetics because they often softened a lot of the rough edges in people, he wanted this beautiful human with… an admittedly really nice voice shut up, to experience the real him, and then ask him out.
He didn’t get to spend days putting on the charm, making Eddie feel all whirly, only to rip it away at the gig when he realised he didn’t actually like the real Eddie Munson.
Steve didn’t think that was entirely necessary since he’d gotten a verbal beat down for an entire week from the guy, but he’d wasted zero time in purchasing those tickets anyway. Maybe he was pathetically down bad for a little wet cat, Steve would own it.
Eddie was an incredibly attractive little wet cat, he wore the wet cat look well.
“Cause he wants to see you in it, it’s gotta be a weird kink thing. Do not bring that energy to my metal gig. I will vomit.”
“What were you actually going to do if I scored with this guy and left us with a twin room at the Conrad? What would you have done?”
“Cried myself to sleep in the bathtub wearing earplugs. Maybe I’d have had a dish of chocolate covered strawberries in there with me, I dunno.”
“You’re so weird.” The words said with such fondness that she couldn’t help but turn her head toward her brother from another mother, her Sistah from another mistah, her twin separated at birth, and grin at him, all teeth and scrunched nose.
They were getting ready in the same room, no awkwardness, no weird vibes, they’d accidentally showered together before, shared a bubble bath in Steve’s ridiculous jet tub back at his apartment, their level of platonic soulmate was so far unmatched.
“You love me.” He did. He really really did. “Okay, okay, put that down. Maybe you can save the sweater vest for like… a date or something. Maybe the dinner you wanted to take him out on. Let’s see what we have here” She rounded the bed in naught but a cut off band tee crop top and a pair of fishnets over her underwear, having been doing her makeup before donning the ripped black pair of shorts she’d thrifted because there didn’t have to be a right order to do things in. “Right… this is a metal gig, and from what we know of Corroded Coffin, it’s not like… glam metal, we don’t need anything flashy, shit’s thrash metal, so like… ripped denim, belt chains, leather jackets, band Tees, guys don’t have to dress up for this shit. Pretty sure your wet rat will be wearing a dumb band tee and ripped jeans. The only thing you have to worry about, is overheating.”
“Overheating?” Gosh he was so unprepared, how was she more prepared for this? Hyper fixation maybe.
“Yeah, why do you think I’m wearing shorts, you’ll be sweating bullets in there, it’s a dive bar, Steve it’s not The Garden. It’s not open air, it’s dingy, the floor will be sticky, the alcohol will be trash, and there’ll be a mosh pit, it’s not going to be pretty. Have you got your plugs?”
Steve lifted a tiny metal tube up and wiggled it in his hand “Gottem”
“Good, make sure you put those in before the music starts, they’ll filter some of the harsher sounds, keep your migraines at bay.” Concussions did damage, and he’d had a few. Not just The Hemsworth Incident™️, he’d partied hard as a teen, lost a few fights, okay, he’d lost most fights.
Brain damage was a real issue with concussions apparently!
Migraines happened, he had little earplugs that didn’t block all noise, just filtered it a little to reduce the impact on his eardrums so he could still enjoy things. Sometimes they helped, sometimes they didn't, it wasnt perfect.
“Okay so… what should I wear? I can’t just wear the plugs, Robin, I know I’m trying to like… pull, but naked celebrity in a dive bar sounds a bit dangerous.”
“Alright smartass, those jeans, that band tee, skip the jacket, you’ll just wind up dying from heatstroke. Actually, gimmie that shirt.” Robin snagged the tee out of Steve’s hands as he held it up she took it over to the dresser where she’d left a little sewing kit she’d also picked up during their thrift shopping, grabbed the scissors and went to town on the damn thing. “You’re gonna sweat, so— accept that he’s gonna see you all gross and sweaty.”
“Nghhhh but—" He wanted to be flawless dammit! Turn on his charm. He couldn’t do that while sweaty and gross!!
“It’s fine, he’ll be all gross and sweaty too. Maybe he’ll even like the gross sweaty look, who knows, he seems like a weird ‘I like sweaty, hairy men’ kinda guy.”
“I thought you said he seemed like a 'moms’ basement dwelling virgin' kind of guy.”
“He’s a weird, wet scraggly cat with layers. He also seems like a ‘clap if you believe’ kind of guy too, but I can’t judge him on that cause—” and she clapped, he let out a brief snort of a laugh. “Okay, here” she threw the remnants of the shirt at him, now transformed into a sleeveless muscle tee, the sides cut to shit to reveal the expanse of mole-dotted golden tanned skin and soft muscle of his sides, the graphic on the front looking like a red hand holding a mallet of some kind, the name of the band too faded to make out. “Wear that, the ripped jeans, and those combat boots.”
“…Just this?”
“Yes, I’ll finish it off with some kohl after I’m done, okay?” Steve raised a single brow at her, but he didn’t argue. He’d long since given up arguing with Robin about how eyeliner made his eyes ‘pop’, it… actually did, so he’d accept it. So when she finally finished dressing and accessorising herself, she completed his look for him too, mussing his hair a little in a way that only she was allowed to do, a little smudged eyeliner, a brush of mascara, and he was good to go.
“Well?” Steve asked, standing straight for Robin’s assessing gaze.
She smiled, like a shark sensing blood in the water, she was pleased with her work. “Oh Stevie Stevie Stevie, trust me, he’s not gonna know what hit him.”
God he hoped she was right.
Part 10
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Text
Leeds Au Blurb #1
Summary: First Ross memory. Leeds Fest 2013.
Warnings: Swearing. Mentions of men being gross and harassment.
Author's Note: The first of series of blurbs that will be memories including Ross from the Leeds Au universe that in my head and hopefully yours, will make the reader's ending make sense.
Word Count: 1.1K Words
You can read the main piece here first if you want!
2013
You were currently stood in a muddy field in the middle of Yorkshire grasping on to your over priced drink and gripping on to Ross’ hand for dear life as you attempted to make it through the crowds to see Eminem headline. The other lads opting to get high backstage whilst the two of you made your way out into the crowds of people to see the rap legend.
You were absolutely buzzing to see the rapper; having loved him since you were a kid and you were gutted when you thought you wouldn’t get to see him due to the boys opting to get high instead. But when Ross timidly popped his hand up to get your attention, to let you know that he would be more than happy to go with you. You jumped in elation, pulling the bassist into your arms in appreciation.
Now you were currently making your way through all the crowds of people to get to the main stage, just as you made it to the main crowd of people, Ross’ phone rang. Matty on a weed induced ramble about an idea he’s had, he let go of your hand quickly as he spoke to Matty in a rush, in hopes of getting back to you as soon as possible.
He must have left your side all for of two minutes when the group of lads approached you. You could hear them talking about the denim shorts you had on and how great your ass looked and you just rolled your eyes but then one of them seemingly started talking straight to you, trying to get your attention. You looked over your shoulder at them and smiled politely before turning back towards the main stage in hopes they would just go away.
But then the group of them were surrounding you. All clearly drunk or high on something and usually you would just tell them to fuck off and roll your eyes at them but after asking them to fuck off and leave you alone a handful of times, an unsettling feeling set in your stomach when they wouldn’t take no for an answer. You looked around frantically to try clap eyes on Ross but you couldn’t find him in the masses of people.
“Why don’t you come back with us? We’ll show you a good time baby.”
“No thanks. Fuck off!” You scowled; but the blonde fella wasn’t having any of it.
“Come on sweetheart.” The blonde gripped on to your wrist tightly as you fought to lose his grip as he attempted to tug you away into the crowd. 
The panic started seeping in as you continued to try pull him off you when Ross’ familiar smell invaded your senses, his hand gently resting against the small of your back as his frame towered not only your height but of those of your harassers. “Sorry darling. You know what Matty’s like when he’s gets going.” He spoke softly; his hand slipping around your waist and pulling you in close, his eyes set in stone as he eyed the hand grasped around your wrist. “I believe she told you to fuck off mate. Now remove your hands from my girl before I remove them for you!”
“Shit! You’re in that band that sings about chocolate! Saw your set earlier. You were wicked! Sorry man, I didn’t realise she was your girl. Sorry! Sorry!”  He scampered away, his friends running after him with their tails between their legs too.
“I leave you for all of two minutes and you’re already getting yourself into trouble!” He joked; pulling you closer as you snuggled into his chest.
“Thank you.” You mumbled against his chest.
“What for love?” Ross pulled back so he could look at you properly, to find you already looking at him and he swears his heart skipped a beat. 
“For saving me from those arseholes.”
“Darling, I’ll always save you.” 
You blinked up at him as his words reached your ears; his features soft and endearing as he smiled down at you and it made your heart speed up because nobody had ever really explicitly told you they would bat for you like this before. You couldn’t help it, you reached up to wrap your arms around his neck and pressed a kiss to his cheek. A soft “Thank you” whispered between the pair of you before you dragged him further into the crowd.
The rapper was everything you could have ever wanted and more! The pair of you bursting into giggles as you both tried to reel off the lyrics to The Real Slim Shady and failing miserably because no one was ever as good as the legend himself. When the moment came and you heard those first few notes on the piano, the screams of excitement became deafening once the audience became aware of what was about to happen.
Turning to look at one another dramatically. You and Ross squared up to one another; quoting the opening monologue to one of the best rap songs of the century. You could feel the adrenaline rushing through you knowing that you were about to witness something so iconic that you couldn’t help bouncing up and down with giddiness.
“His palms are sweaty, knees weak arms are heavy.There’s vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti! He's nervous, but on the surface, he looks calm and ready…”
The grin on your both your faces creeping up on you both as you recited the iconic lyrics to one another.
“To drop bombs, but he keeps on forgetting, What he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud. He opens his mouth, but the words won't come out.He's chokin', how? Everybody's jokin' now.The clock's run out, time's up, over, blaow…”
“Snap back to reality, ope, there goes gravity. Ope, there goes Rabbit, he choked, he's so mad.But he won't give up that easy, no, he won't have it. He knows his whole back's to these ropes, it don't matter…” You were both screaming now. Gripping onto one another as you geared up for the infamous chorus that was sure to set the thousands strong audience into a pure frenzy.
You had never felt anything like being in that crowd before. Screaming at the top of your lungs with your best friend, watching an artist you’ve loved for years. Wrapping his arm around you shoulder, you easily fell back into Ross’ chest as you watched him finish the set contently in the arms of your best friend. When he finally does, the crowd goes insane and you couldn’t help but turn round and slip your arms round Ross’ waist as you revelled in the glow of serotonin this experience had given you.
Ross’ handsome face was already enamoured by the bright smile on your face and he couldn’t help himself, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear with a smile that could break hearts. Seemingly neither could you because you sneaked a hand up his chest to cup his bearded cheek and captured him in a sweet kiss. 
The bassist kissed you back for a fleeting moment before pulling away. 
“Come on, let’s go find the others.” You chuckled, smiling brightly at him. The words soft between the two of you as you held on to his hand tightly and heading in the direction you thought your friends could be.
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mangekyuou · 1 year
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Hey Mangek, i hope your doing fine
I just wanted to know if you could do monster triox teen!reader
Reader is a loyal and strong individual but reckless and maybe they sacrifice themselves, like taking a bullet for their big brother figure and I wanna know how the trio would react to reader almost dying for them
Please and ty!❤️
⟡    ֺ   𓂂  headcanons  ,  with a crewmate who sacrifices themselves to save them
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!!     characters! . . .  luffy, zoro, & sanji.
!!     cw(s)! . . .  platonic. gn!reader. no pronouns used. depiction of a panic attack. [ luffy ] mentions of blood. violence. wounds. chain-smoking. [ sanji ] not proofread.
!!     notes! . . .  i wrote something similar to this a year ago. and it did really well. so it's nice to write an updated version of it a year later to see if my writing has changed any. it hasn't lol. thank you so much for requesting !! <333
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when he saw you take the bullet and fall to the ground right behind him, he froze. the world around him froze
he dropped to his knees and held you in his arms. the color drains from his face as he sees the wounds and the blood quickly seeping into your clothes
focused on you, he failed to even notice chopper had made his way over to tend to your wounds. he had even failed to notice that he was crying, tears streaming down his cheeks
as chopper takes over, luffy tries to climb back to his feet but his legs feel wobbly. his vision becomes blurry. it feels hard to breathe. he clawed at the denim fabric of his shorts, he feared for the worse
he's lost someone he viewed as a sibling before just like this
and now here it was happening again before his very eyes
jinbei does his best to comfort luffy, helping him through his panic attack, reassuring him that you are a strong person, you'll make it through, and that he has nothing to worry about
it does work, but he's still worried sick, sitting outside of the sick bay on the sunny, staring down at the ground, blaming himself for what happened
this would have never happened if he was stronger and faster
when the door to the sick bay opened and out walked chopper with a smile, he raced into the room where he saw you
he hugs you tightly. he's so happy he could cry, and he does
you two compare scars
"luffy! look at this sick new scar i got!"
"we're like scar buddies now!"
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zoro knew something had felt off the very second, you all had stepped foot onto this open field
his worry would be proven correct when he heard your gasp and you suddenly push him out of the way. before he could even get pissed at you for pushing him, he heard the gunshot, seeing the bullet into your shoulder
before you could fall, he catches you, his eye was already trained on roughly where the bullet was shot from
he swore he could see who shot you, and they damn sure were not going to get away with it
despite the pain in your shoulder, you could feel just how angry he was
it wasn't often you saw zoro lose his temper, he was always so cool and badass, which is one of the reasons you looked up to him
but this zoro was seething with anger
he was angry at everything. more importantly, angry at himself for not seeing the bullet a mile away and letting you get shot
he hands you to chopper, who he entrusts with your safety before going to kill fight the bastard who did this to you
zoro tries his best to not show just how worried he is. but it finally breaks through after he knows you're okay
all of that built-up stress from thinking you weren't going to make it because you took a bullet that was meant for him
tears flowed down his face. you realize that you've never seen him cry before
"i thought...i thought i lost you" his voice breaks
you knew it was ill-advised to hug him after you got shot in the shoulder of all places, but you had to, he needed one
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he didn't know why he froze up. it was a mistake that nearly cost him his life if it wasn't for you jumping in front, taking the bullet for him
not before shooting down the enemy yourself
he yells your name, realizing you had been hit...realizing that you saved him
he sees you stumbling over your feet, nearly falling. he catches you before you fall, looking over your wound and the blood you're already losing
he's trying to remember what chopper told everyone to do if they were ever in a situation like now and he wasn't around. he pulls up your shirt, placing a clean cloth over it and applying pressure to stop the bleeding
it hurt like hell, and you made sure to let him know by wincing.
he feels terrible for hurting you like this. he apologizes profusely as he's trying to keep calm because one of you has to...and it definitely wasn't him
he's freaking out more than you, the one who got shot...
when help finally arrives and you are able to get back to the sunny to sick medical help, he's unable to even rest
his hands are trembling as he lights his 4th cigarette out on the deck. he's beating himself up on the inside. if he would have never frozen, you'd be okay
when he gets the ok to see you, when he sees you laying in bed, that's when he starts crying
"i'm supposed to be the one who protects you, but i failed. i'm so sorry, ( y/n )" he apologizes. he felt like a failure of a big brother, nearly losing you because he froze
"no, we're supposed to protect each other" you tell him, shaking hands on it, forming a promise
though he's never ever going to let you jump in front of a bullet for him again. that was RECKLESS
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© MANGEKYUOU — do not copy, repost, or translate my works.
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riddle-me-ri · 9 months
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A/N: asdfgg finally dipping my toes into another fandom. Not sure how long this fixation will last but damnit if I don't see a grumpy sarcastic hot traumatized character and I do not get attached (by no means am I an apologist just a simp lmao and I am a sucker for deep characters) 
For anyone reading this purely from the atsv fandom. Hey hi hello, I'm Ri, I'm usually known for DC stuff but I'm an all around whore nerd (meh both) and I was inspired by atsv as I'm sure all of us were and just couldn't not like do something with the ideas in my head lmao so go easy on me friendos but glad to to see you here and thanks for reading! Also new banner who dis? New fandom new banner…may or may not change lmao
Trigger Warning: None, maybe some angst if you squint? Overall just a fluffy wee dream because those are always fun.
Word Count: 713
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Miguel O'Hara x Reader - Just a Dream
The sun beamed down on you as you practically roasted on the metal bleachers. It was too hot to not wear shorts but it also was too hot to not have some kind of protection for your thighs. 
A man beside you chuckled as you played hot potato between each thigh trying to keep one body part from getting more burned than the other. 
The man was a looming figure to say the least. His cheekbones caused his eyes to slightly squint as he continued to be amused at your discomfort. 
"I swear, I don't know how you're wearing a long sleeve shirt in this weather." 
"It's light colored, it doesn't attract the sun." He responded. 
"Still, how are you not hot?" 
"Amor, I'm always hot. You should know this." 
He chuckled as you rolled your eyes at him. He patted the top of his thighs conveniently protected by a pair of thin sweatpants. 
"You also know, you can always sit here." 
You nudged him and he faked a hurt whimper. 
"I will not embarrass our daughter like that." 
He nods as he puts his hands up in mock surrender. Completely out of ideas to protect your skin from the scorching metal.
You groaned, opting to sit where the denim met the metal. Even if you were practically about to fall out of your seat. You tried to distract yourself by watching the girl's soccer game in front of you. You kept your eyes peeled for a certain little girl in particular.
You reluctantly couldn't deny the girl was the spitting image of her father, the man beside you teasing you. Even though she was just as much yours as she was his. 
Still she was very much a daddy's girl. 
Soon you were saved from the bleachers as you stood up to applaud your daughter for scoring the winning goal for her team.  
Down on the field, laughing and smiling, celebrating. You were recording the victorious day on your phone. Your daughter, Gabriela was nestled proudly upon her father's shoulders with a cupcake in hand. 
Her dad opened his mouth to mention something only to be interrupted by a cupcake being planted on his cheek followed by the sweetest squealing fit of giggles. 
You and him both join in, not sure if it's from the humorous sight of frosting on his neatly cut cheekbones or her laughter being that infectious. 
"All right, well, piggyback privileges have been officially revoked." He brought his arms up to lift her up off his shoulders and safely place her down. 
She took a satisfied bite from her cupcake, still giggling proudly. 
He looked up to face you but ended up looking straight into your camera. 
He chuckled some more before muttering, "all right, that's enough." 
You put the camera away still giggling. You went up and scooped some of the frosting off his cheek and onto your finger. You put the finger in your mouth, tasting it. 
"Not bad..not bad…could do without the sweat though.." You commented as if you were a food critic. 
This caused your daughter to double over again in laughter. 
"Well, sweet and salty frosting is an acquired taste." He quipped. 
More snickers can be heard just below. 
You nodded to let Gabriela run off to talk to her teammates as her dad reached up to wipe the decadent frosting off his cheek. 
You leaned in and gave him a kiss on his once messy cheek. "Ah that's better." You giggled. 
He beamed down at you, a soft sweet smile. "Ah, that can be better-" 
He curled his finger just below your chin to raise your lips up closer to his. 
You smiled as you leaned in for a kiss–
You sit up, your alarm blaring on your bedside table. You quickly snatched your phone to turn it off. 
You cursed under your breath. Same dream…same damn dream. And the same two people…a little girl…at least you got her name, eventually, Gabriela. But the man…your…dream husband?…Her father…was still a mystery. 
It couldn't be a coincidence, they…they felt so vivid…like they were memories…
The soccer games, birthday parties, breakfasts, anniversaries, dinners…it's like you lived some double life in your dream.
But that's all they got to be right? 
Just a dream?
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of-a-chaotic-mind · 2 months
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Glue (Part 2)
Summary: The Pogues go to the police for help getting (Y/N) back but JJ and John B end up taking matters into their own hands.
TW/CW: Routledge!Reader x JJ Maybank, More mentions of a gun and Reader being kidnapped, more JJ angst.
Requested?: No
Word Count: 1,053
A/N: Part 1 Here || Aww my poor baby... Requests are Open! Much love to all!
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JJ's POV
A quick drive later, we’re pulling up at the Sheriff’s office, storming inside and demanding to speak to Shoop. Having created a commotion, Shoop exits his office to investigate, “What on earth is going on here?” Sarah places her phone on the counter and hits play. Luke’s voice once again permeates my senses as Shoop looks down at her phone and watches the entire video, “Get me anything you can on that number,” he commands to his officer before turning his attention back to us, “Last seen? What was she wearing?” 
John B nudges my side and I whip my head up to look at Shoop, “Bout 8:30. Grey muscle tank, denim shorts, and flip flops.” 
Shoop nods and motions to another officer, “Put out an amber. Make sure you make it sound like a runaway young teen. Throw him off as much as possible.” 
The officer nods and hurries off as John B glares at Shoop, “He said not to get the cops involved. If my sister dies- “ 
Shoop throws his hand out, “He’s gonna make sure it’s vague enough. Calm down and have a seat. JJ, my office.” I begrudgingly follow Shoop to his office and once inside he shuts the door and motions to a chair on the opposite side of his desk from the seat he takes. I take my offered seat and he says, “I need to know as much as possible. I don’t care how unrelated you think the detail is, I need it.” 
I nod, “We were outside working on the boat,” I show him the back of my hand, “I sliced my hand on the inside of the engine bay, so she went inside to get the first aid kit.” I pause trying to remember as much as possible. “She was in there about fifteen minutes, so I went in to check on her. All I found was the first aid kit on the floor. She was gone.” 
Shoop nods, taking notes, “Anything else? Any small detail. Anything you dismissed at the time?” 
Searching my memory, I realize and get flashed back to the many nights that I laid on the floor beaten and bruised, listening to his truck rumble out of the driveway and leave before calling (Y/N) to pick me up. “A truck. I heard a truck off in the distance, but I didn’t think anything of it. It had to have been his truck I swear, Shoop.” He nods and adds this to his notes. “Shoop, you gotta find her man. I- we can’t lose her. She’s our glue.” 
Shoop nods, “We will JJ. Just hang in there.” He motions for me to leave so I make my way to join the others. We’re waiting amongst chaos as the entire sheriff’s office hustles to filter through amber alert tips. Finally, my phone ringing breaks through the noise. I whip it out and recognize the number.  
I rush to Shoop’s office and put my phone on speaker, “Hello?” 
“Duckette’s Warf, midnight tonight. Don’t forget $200k, don’t call the cops,” Luke’s voice flows through the speaker. Shoop writes a note and shows it to me. I nod, “I-I need to know she’s alive. I don’t trust your ass.” 
Sounding braver than I feel, Luke chuckles, “We’ll you sure grew some balls. Here sweetheart, talk to your little boyfriend.” 
Her voice is steady and stern, “JJ… please…” 
Luke takes back over, “There. Now bring me my money boy.” He hangs up. 
I can’t do anything but worry over my best friend. I can’t lose her. She’s my best friend and now the worst person possible has her. And it’s all my fault. Shoop speaks before I can spiral down that path, “You kids just settle back in, in the waiting room. We’ll let you know when we need something.” 
“No, I want to know what you’re gonna do to save my sister,” John B demands. “I need to know that this is in good hands or I’m gonna go get her myself.” 
Shoop sighs, “You two will do the drop off with false bills. We’ll have a team nearby to take him down after you make the switch.” 
John B’s jaw clenches, “You swear to me that you won’t let her get hurt.” 
Before Shoop can promise, I speak up, “He won’t bring her to the drop. He’ll keep her somewhere and give us her location only after he gets the cash.” I pause as everyone looks at me, “I know how he thinks. He’s gonna use her as a distraction for his getaway.” 
Shoop sighs, “Plum!” Plum pokes her head in the office allowing Shoop to give his instructions, “Filter the amber tips for spottings near Duckette’s Warf.” She nods and leaves to do so. Shoop returns to us, “We’ll look for locations he may be hiding out. If we can get to her before the drop, we can save the hassle of a drop off.” 
We all nod as Shoop motions us back to more waiting. Finally, after hours of worrying myself shitless, Plum heads to Shoop’s office. We all jump up and race to the door, hoping to hear what she has to say. “There was a tip about a guy fitting Luke’s description at a marina right next door to Duckette’s. I checked and there was a houseboat rented a few weeks back under the name Mason Bank.” 
Shoop nods, “The oldest alias he has. Get some under covers out there to scope the area.” 
John B and I look at each other as Plum rushes off. A silent look passes between us.  
After a narrow escape from Sarah, Kie, Pope, and Cleo, John B and I sneak away to take matters into our own hands. We make our way to the marina, beating the under covers there. We’re scoping the boats docked when I see it. A houseboat sits at the very back of the marina. I drag John B with me, and we sneak around the side of the boat, peaking into windows and keeping an eye out for Luke. Finally, I spot her in a dark room on the other side of a small window. Luke is in the room with his back to the window. We watch as she struggles against the zips around her wrists. 
Part 3 Here
Masterlist
More JJ Maybank Imagines
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bimbboslutt · 9 months
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Just a splash of powdered seroquel in your food or one of our drinks for the night to turn you into everything I want and need. I pretend to fall asleep and set an alarm for 2 hours later. I hardly get a wink anticipating what's a out to happen. The alarm rings and I wake instantly. Turning it off for fear it might stir you from your drug induced slumber. I should know better but the worries always there. You sleep so peacefully normally. So beautifully. But tonight your mouth hangs open and irregular snores fall out of your lips. I take my time testing you, almost begging you to wake up. My iPhones setup on the bedside table to record it all and use against you as blackmail. I start by prettying you up. Closing your mouth to shut up your irritating fucking breaths. Wiping your hair out of your face and rolling you over onto your stomach. I pull your tight denim shorts down past your knees and over your ankles. Spreading your legs and sitting my knee in between them I kiss your body gently the last kindness I will give you before becoming the monster that you deserve. I spit on my hand and start rubbing your clit. Your body hasn't even realised what's happening to you yet. It takes a while for your cunt to start getting wet but as soon as it does I'm inside you. I'm inside you. My cock throbbing with love, lust and anger for you. I make sure to push myself deep inside you until I bottom out. The point where most women would say ouch and ask you to be gentler I sit there force myself further into you pushing your cervix up and up and up. Your body stirs a little in its sleep with this pain. Like the times before it only takes whispering sweet nothing's in your ear for you to mumble some nonsense and relax. I use your hair to hold your face nice and center to the camera making sure anyone that sees it could recognise you. I bite on your neck and open your eyes for the camera degrading you and letting all my fans know that this is only use a woman can be for us. Quiet, breedable, submissive and fucking obedient for once. I fuck you in any position I see fit slapping you and spitting on you all for the camera making sure to sure how reciprocating your body is against this intrusion. Your holes getting loose and I'm getting bored so I find the small packet of lube on my jeans pocket and rub it down my cock and pour drops onto your asshole. Testing it to see if your body will tense up on me. It doesn't so the drugs are still working I get 3 fingers in and work them around making sure I can push myself in easily. It's tighter and warmer in here then it was in your useless cunt. I grab my phone and record your little hole spreading around the thickness of me before pulling it out and using your open snoring mouth to clean it off. I want you to wake up with all the signs all the evidence and all the reminders of how worthless you are. "You stupid little slut" "I hope I have to show the world this" "you can finally realise your fucking place in this world" I get lost in the abuse when the warning alarm goes off. I've gotta wrap this up soon I grab your panties and shove them dry inside your little pussy and go back to fucking your ass I hold your eyes open for the camera and fuck you relentlessly until I can feel myself letting go, I shoot half my load into your ass and the other I to your cunt hoping it breeds more degenerates like me. I clean your ass off me with your own mouth again. I airdrop the video to your phone and use your pass code to login and save a screenshot of it as your locks screen.
DONT MAKE ME SHOW THE WHOLE WORLD EXACTLY WHO YOU ARE
The first words you see in the morning when you roll over to check your phone and a photo of you with a cock and drool and cum hanging out of your mouth
might want that to happen ….. in need of my address?
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dameronology · 2 years
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Hi! Could I please request imagines of Steve or Eddie with a short reader? (Pref one who isn’t a rabid chihuahua because not all tiny ppl are filled w/ rage 24/7 ty 🥰)
i will drink to this bc i'm 5'3 on a good day which isn't even that short but i work with lots of tall ppl so i have a little bit of a napoleon complex at times but i hate the tHeY'Re DeMoNs cOs tHey'Re ClOseR tO hElL bullshit
eddie munson
a lotta people write eddie as being tall as fuck but canonically, he is 5'10 which is definitely on the taller side and he's somehow still lanky and gangly as hell
idk how people individually define short but in my head it's like 5'4 and below so he's definitely towering over you in some way or another
obviously, he teases you about it; especially when you ask him to get stuff down for you from a shelf in the supermarket or to reach the leftovers at the back of the freezer
it makes him feel needed in a sweet domestic way
eddie will sometimes use your head as an arm rest, just to take the piss
one of his nicknames for you would definitely be "short stuff"
"having trouble reaching that, short stuff?" and "how's the weather down there, short stuff?"
it also means this clothes hang off of you and he loves that !!
like seriously his heart skips a beat every time you have to roll back the sleeves on his denim jacket or t-shirt that he's leant you
his arms are long enough so that he can keep a hand on the small of your back when you walk.
i'll tell u what tho. sharing a bed with him is a pain in the fucking ass
because the man spread eagles his stupid gangly limbs everywhere and you're forced to resign yourself to one singular corner of the mattress
but then he tangles himself with you in the night, and he's tall enough to completely enclose your body in his and it's sweet as fuck
steve harrington
steve is also on the much taller side at 5'11
he insists he's six foot though and honestly you're just gonna have to let him have this one
either way, he's a lot bigger than you
honestly it's not something he paid much attention to until dustin, lucas, mike & will had their growth spurts and he's all like "wow haha you're actually fuckin' tiny"
one time he took you & the kids to the theatre and the lady in the box office asked if you wanted a kids ticket
steve said yes because he wanted to save money and you didn't talk to him for the rest of the day
he loves the height difference tho. it means he can rest his head on top of yours when you hug and you're the perfect height for forehead kisses
his favourite thing to do is sling an arm over your shoulder whenever you're walking beside him
and sometimes he runs up to you and picks you up into a kiss
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rawmeknockout · 1 year
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G1 Bumblebee with a breeding kink with human female s/o? Maybe it's the first time and he realizes how much he loves them during it??
The rush of battle is still tingling along his lines, pushing energon through his system like one of those race horses on television, and it's almost as thrilling as the way you look at him. Like he's your knight in shining armor. Like the way he has always looked at Optimus. Bee had to stop himself from giggling giddily in the middle of battle. There's charge rippling across his sensornet and lighting up the equipment behind his modesty panel, his valve already uncomfortably wet with lubricant.
The walk to his habsuite is too long, but Bumblebee tries to rush as quick as he can on his little legs. Even your small stay in Ratchet's medbay felt like it took years, and the grumpy medic certainly hadn't liked the way Bumblebee hovered with tapping pede. The dent on his helm would ache tomorrow. Bee offers you a sheepish grin, flustered with the way your bright eyes never leave his face.
If he weren't so impatient, Bee would let you walk on your own two feet to his hab like a gentlemech, but as it is he can't help plucking you up and rushing you away as soon as possible. There's an unspoken sort of tension he isn't used to between the two of you, and he desperately wants to explore it in the privacy of his berth.
"You were the most handsome mech on the battlefield," You coo into his audial as Bumblebee lays you down on his cot. If only he had an officer's berth. "I would get accidentally kidnapped way more if I got to have you rescue me every time."
Bee giggles along with you, although his lips make quick work of kissing down your small neck and shoulders. You're so dainty in his hands, something he's never been able to say about a partner before. The way your tiny hands glide across his broad chest sends a thrill right to his half-hard spike. He's imagined those small hands doing way more than you two will have time for tonight. Unfortunate.
"Please don't. Starscream nearly knocked my helm off," The punch still aches in his memories, but Ratchet took care of that for him. It wasn't going to stop Bee from charging right at Thundercracker to wrestle you back, despite how stupid a move that was. He's definitely going to get teased later.
"It's such a handsome helm, too. I'll stay out of trouble then," Your impish grin is going to kill Bumblebee. Now he knows how Optimus feels when the twins get into it with other mechs. But if you get taken by the Decepticons, Bee knows he'll be the first rushing out to save you. "Are you ready for your reward, my hero?"
The purr in your voice almost arouses him as much as the sight of you shuffling off your denim shorts and flimsy undergarments. Almost.
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