#crushed gravel walk way

[allinonedemo]

Tropical Landscape in Los Angeles Inspiration for a large, fully-shaded, drought-tolerant mulch garden path in the backyard.

[miraavx]

Los Angeles Patio Outdoor Kitchen Example of a huge island style backyard brick patio kitchen design with no cover

[serialthrill]

Pathway Los Angeles An example of a large tropical full sun and drought-tolerant backyard mulch garden path.

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ LIKE THE WAY I FUCK ('CAUSE I GET ROUGH) — an undercover mission with your superiors leads to compromised positions (in more ways than one)

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + könig

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, canon-divergence, age difference, slight power imbalance, jealous/possessive behaviour, discussions of violence, tags to be added

// NSFW CONTENT BELOW THE CUT //

Turns out, undercover missions involve a lot more make-up, perfume and dresses than you'd anticipated.

Being a seasoned task force operator, it's been months, if not years since you've been to a party outside of your barracks. Let alone one of this calibre; CEOs, billionaires on Forbes Top 50, politicians.

It's off-putting. 

All of it; it's stressful, and it feels as though your skin's crawling, having so much skin on display, so many eyes on you at once. You feel as though you’re an animal at a zoo, being inspected by families with their snotty-nosed kids.

"Sit-rep, Diamond?"

Swallowing around a dry mouth, you reply to your lieutenant's request through your earpiece, tone low and careful. "All as planned, Lt."

Ghost hums a low sound in reply, and your shoulders loosen slightly from their tense position.

You knew that your superior was already inside, having arrived ten minutes earlier. A small, selfish part of you wished that you'd have arrived with him, if only to see how he cleaned up.

Ghost? In a suit? It's like one of your deepest, most dirty of desires come to life.

Such thoughts that you'd never let leave your lips -- thoughts too likely to wreck your entire career and any opportunity to keep your relationship with the man.

"König?" Is Ghost's next question, although it's just the other man's name alone.

Right.

König.

The other superior featured in your dreams. Thoughts. Wank-material?

Whatever they are, they're becoming all too common, all too realistic, and all too risky.

"Successful entry," König replies, heavily accented voice low and quiet -- he's amongst people.

Your limo comes to a stop outside of the decorated museum, and a suited man opens your door with gloved hands. His upper lip is covered in a well-groomed pencil moustache, and you have to stifle a chuckle. Soap would’ve appreciated it.

With a small smile, you incline your head towards him, lifting up the fabric of your skirt so it doesn't brush against the gravel. It’s so… impractical, and you really can’t help but respect those that dress up like this on a regular basis. Looking down at your outfit, you let out a low breath.

When Gaz and Soap had burst into your room with shit-eating grins and a garment bag, you had just known that your dress was going to be... extravagant at best, and downright sinful at worst.

You were correct, of course.

So, here you are, walking down the red carpet into the building, cameras flashing and paparazzi screaming, in this... dress.

Silky black, strapless, and with crossing lines of fabric across your bare back. Chiffon skirts fall behind you, with a slit rising all the way up to where your thigh meets your hip bone. A gun hides beneath, strapped around your inner thigh, paired with your right, adorning a delicate yet hefty knife.

You look... not at all like a Sergeant on Task Force 141.

You look like a celebrity, one just out of her fans' reach. It's a surreal experience, and the mere thought of your two superiors (crushes) seeing you like this... It's frightening. Maddening. And, maybe, a tad bit exhilarating.

Gaz had insisted on doing your make-up -- having so many sisters made him a fully-fledged artist, apparently. And an artist he was, talented with the brushes of eyeshadow and flicks of eyeliner against your skin.

Soap, for his part, had begged for you to let him do your hair -- but considering his only experience was his mohawk, you were less than lenient. With a huff, he’d let you go to Laswell’s wife with the request, as long as he picked out your jewellery.

And now, hours later, your heels click against the stone tile as you enter the museum.

Soft lighting cascades all of the guests in gentle hues of yellow, laughter and polite mingling surrounding you as you enter the main ballroom, skirts brushing against your legs.

Chandeliers above glisten, a live-band plays beautiful jazz, and servers walk around with trays of champagne and finger foods.

It's nothing like you've ever experienced.

This mission, somehow, terrifies you more than the weight of a sniper in your hand and an order to neutralise.

"Target, six o'clock," Ghost's voice carries through your comms as you take position near the corner of the room. There’s fewer people here, and it allows you a moment to breathe and recalibrate.

Your eyes dart to the direction your lieutenant has supplied, and you catch sight of your target immediately. "Got eyes," you murmur softly, smile on your face as you pretend to fix your hair.

"Affirmative," König answers then.

"I haven't seen you before."

Whipping around to the source of the words, you find yourself face to face with a man who you've seen the face of too many times to count.

"Apologies for startling you," he inclines his head respectfully. He's got a few inches on you -- although you find it hard to consider him tall when you're with your superiors more often than not. His skin is closely-shaved, his blonde hair gelled to the nines -- and a smarmy, trust-fund baby smirk to top it all off.

Extending his hand, he announces, "I'm Phillip. Phillip Graves."

...Graves.

The last name of your target -- the son of your target.

"I'm Louise," you say with a sweet smile, taking his hand and shaking it. Your undercover name was going to have to come into play sooner than you'd hoped. "It's a lovely atmosphere, isn't it?"

"Positive, Diamond?" Ghost's deep voice instantly responds to your subtle codeword.

"Not as lovely as you, I'm sure," Phillip flirts, and you pretend to bat your lashes and hide your face from him.

"Ah... thank you, Sir. You're quite dashing yourself," you meekly reply, giving him a soft smile. 

Men like this were so easily played, you found. Not at all like the military men you were surrounded with on such a constant basis. Not at all like…

You can hear both König and Ghost swear underneath their breaths. Releasing the hold on your bracelet -- the one with the built-in comms button -- you shyly bite at your lower lip.

Phillip’s eyes track the movement, and if not for the stakes of this mission, it'd be almost comical.

"May I have this dance?" He asks, offering his arm for you to take. He’s adorning an obviously wealthy suit, dark blue and silky – and it rubs you in all the wrong ways.

You can hear your heart pound in your ears -- this wasn't the way the mission was supposed to go. But, then again, you didn't get into Task Force 141 by expecting every mission to go as planned.

"I would love to, Sir," you smile, wrapping your hand around his arm, allowing him to escort you to the main dance floor.

Subtly folding your hands together around his arm, you're able to push down the button on your bracelet. "You want us to dance in the middle of everyone? I'm not the best of dance partners..."

Phillip chuckles, but through your inner ear piece, you can hear König report, "Got eyes, Diamant."

Chills run down your spine. Either from this situation or…

Or something else that you're not entirely supposed to -- or allowed to -- feel. Not for those two men, and certainly not for your superiors.

"I'll lead you, darlin’," Phillip leans down to whisper into your ear, his lips brushing against your skin. They’re thin, and chapped against your own skin.

His hand moves to sit at your lower back, just above your ass, and the other moves down your arm to interlace your fingers with his. It's an intimate position, your front pressing against his as he starts to lead you with the beat.

Of course you knew how to dance; you wouldn't have been picked for this role if you couldn't. 

However, you deliberately misstep a few times, just to play into Phillip’s ego -- his desire for control and intelligence. 

"For such a beautiful girl, you sure aren't the smartest," he jests, and it takes everything within you not to just swing your fist and leave him twitching on the dance floor. You could, realistically speaking, but that would cost you all the mission. And you would not let yourself, nor König or Ghost, down.

Instead, you nervously flit your gaze from him, moving in closer to his chest. By his squeeze on your lower back, you know it's the right decision. "I... I'm doing my best, Sir."

You want to crawl out of your own skin at the way you’re feeding into his misogyny, how you’re downplaying your own strengths.

He huffs, a demeaning, cruel thing.

"I want to shoot 'im," you hear Ghost mutter, and you'd be a liar to say that those words in that tone don't make you clench your thighs together as you sway against Phillip.

"Make it a competition, ja?" König quips. There's... irritation -- anger, maybe -- behind his question. It's so unlike the gentle giant of a man, and that fact alone has your breath coming out in a short pant.

Phillip, of course, thinks it's him making you so flushed.

With a vindictive smirk, he spins you, completely throwing you off balance. Maybe a tad too dramatically, you find yourself falling into his arms, giggling a little bit.

...It's worth it to hear Ghost grumble under his breath through the comms.

This whole situation doesn't feel quite real, and you know that their attitudes are nearly definitely due to the stray in plans. That's fine. That's all it can possibly be. It’s all that you’ll allow it to be.

But your mind has never been kind, and your imagination has always had the habit of wandering.

"Let's go get some drinks, hm?" Phillip asks, his hand falling dangerously close to 'inappropriate hand placement' territory.

You shoot him a seductive smile, nodding as he pulls you to the open bar, his arm wrapped tight around your waist, leaving you glued to his side. It’s a possessive position, and you find yourself wishing it was either of your superiors holding you in such a way instead.

"Don't drink anything he offers you," Ghost warns. You almost have the mind to chew him out for not trusting you with something so obvious, but... There's something about such subtle 

protectiveness that only feeds your elementary style crush on the man.

"I would love to," you reply as Graves leads you to the bar, hand only moving lower with every step the two of you take. Fear trickles down your spine, your hands squeezing tightly together at your front.

"Say the word and we get you outta' there, Princess," Ghost quips, sharp and to the point.

With your hands already together, you manage to reply an agreement in Morse code -- quick, successive taps of the communications button.

"Good girl," König replies, just a touch breathy from the quietness of his words.

You manage not to trip on your feet, but it's a close thing.

a small snippet, because i feel really bad for my lack of posts!! life is so insane atm its like a satire.

[mountainsandmayhem]

Shhh...Just A Little Bit More

DBF!Joel x Fem!Reader

18+ MDNI

Masterlist || Part Two || Part Three (Soft Version) || Part Three (Spicy Version)

Summary: Joel catches you somewhere you shouldn't be, twice. CW: all p no plot! age gap, spanking, dirty talk, parental guilt, brat and brat tamer, sub/dom dynamics, edging and degradation kinks if you squint AN: I found the bottom right photo on Pinterest and @mermaidgirl30 said it screamed DBF!Joel. I have never written for DBF before so please be kind. Dividers by @saradika-graphics - thank you for all your amazing graphics and dividers, I'd be lost without your page.

“Let go of me, you fucking psycho!” You’re practically yelling over the music of the club, wrenching your arm from Joel’s strong grasp. The security guard approaches and Joel shoots him a glare so dark that he holds his hands up and steps back. “What the fuck, Joel?”

“What are ya doin’ here, sweetheart” he demands, one eyebrow raised. 

“I’m working!” You stomp your foot and then get right up in his face, pointing a finger at him. Joel Miller, your dad’s best friend, hanging out in a strip club one town over. “The real question is, what are YOU doin here?” 

You’re only a bottle girl, you don’t get on the stage and have no intentions of stripping. It’s good money, great money actually. At 22 you’re already well on your way to having a down payment on a condo, it’s just too bad you’re having to lie to your parents. 

“With my crew, they picked the place. I’m takin’ you home. Go get your coat.” He crosses his arms over his chest, staring at you sternly. The music is pounding in your ears, the air thick with smoke. Even in the dimly lit hallway you can see the way Joel’s eyes rake over your body, taking in the very tiny Jean shorts and bralette you’re wearing. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you spin and flip him the bird as you walk away. You know he’s staring so you give a little extra wiggle of your ass as you walk away. Joel Miller, staring at your ass. The fourteen year old inside you does a happy dance - that version of yourself had a tiny crush on him. Too bad he’s a stuffy, grumpy asshole now. You miss the fun, young Joel. He used to do cannonballs in the pool with you and his daughter Sarah. She was a few years older than you, but he was much more fun than your father. But now? Now he’s a certified prick. Thinking he can drag you away like some sort of barbaric caveman. He’s not your dad, even if he was, you’re an adult. 

When you finish your shift you head outside and pull up your Uber app, men often want to do shots with you so even though you never get drunk at work you also don’t drive there. 

See, Joel. I’m responsible. 

“Let’s go,” his voice is deep, still angry with you. You didn’t see him waiting by the door so you jump. 

“Jesus. You fucking scared me.” 

“Watch your language. Get in the truck.” 

You grumble under your breath that he should kiss your ass as he holds the door open for you. He stalks around to his side of the truck while furrowing his brow and shaking his head. 

“Got somethin’ to say young lady?” 

“Ya,” you say, slumping in the seat and putting your white vans on his dashboard, “kiss my ass.” 

He presses his lips in a thin line, you can see him eyeing your long toned legs from your peripheral vision before the engine roars to life and he speeds off down the gravel highway. 

When you pull up to the house he hops out of the truck and is right on your heels as you open the door. 

“I’m fine, Mister Miller.” You say with a sneer. You know he hates that, he has told everyone he’s ever been introduced to to call him Joel. 

Joel steps into your parents house and calls your dad’s name. “What the fuck! Joel! Shut up!” 

He calls for him again and your dad comes stumbling from his room, tying his robe around his sleeping attire. “Joel? What’s going on?” He flicks on the light, squinting against the brightness. “It’s 3 in the morning.” 

“Just thought I’d let you now know that the guys at work wanted to go to The Skin tonight. Caught your daughter working there.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Joel?!” You yell, pushing at his broad chest. Your dad stands there stunned. Eyes wide and mouth agape. He thought you were working as a nurses aide overnight at the hospital on weekends. He’s even seen you leave the house in scrubs. All a part of the web of lies you have weaved. 

“Don’t speak to Joel that way,” your dad snaps. “Go to your room young lady. We’ll talk about this later.” 

“Kiss my ass, cowboy.” You practically spit at him as you stomp to your room. As you round the corner your mom is standing in the hallway clutching her crucifix necklace. You have a sudden urge to hiss at her with the way she’s looking at you, like you’re a disappointment. A sinner, the worst kind of person in her eyes. 

The next morning was the fight of all fights with your parents. Your dad tried to ground you, your mom started shoving church pamphlets at you. They wouldn’t even fucking listen. 

“IM NOT A STRIPPER,” you yelled at them over and over again. 

Finally, when the yelling ceased, your dad said in a very quiet anger, “young lady. I FORBID you from going there again. Is that clear? I don’t care if you’re 22 or 42, if you live under my roof, you live by my rules. You’re going to go to continue going to your university classes during the week, and on weekends you will be home. Studying. Helping your mother with the chores. You will go to bed at respectable hour. If you need money, you ask us. Is that clear?” 

You blink back tears and head to your room, slamming the door behind you. You are NOT quitting that job. 

When the next weekend rolls around you say goodnight to your parents at 10pm and head to your room. You worked it out with your boss to work the midnight to 4 am shift. So you wait - ear pressed to your door until you finally hear your parents go to bed. You sneak out the same way you’ve been sneaking out for years and run down the street with your newly embroidered denim shorts in hand to meet your Uber. 

You peel yourself away from the men and the booze around 2am to get some fresh air, exiting through the back to the dimly lit alley. You take a big inhale through your nose before you see it. The truck. Joel’s truck. And Joel. Leaning against the truck box, arms crossed, one foot up on the tire. 

You flip him off and then turn back towards the back entrance to the club. He’s on you so fast, grabbing the back of your bicep in his large hand. “You little brat. You aren’t supposed to be here.” 

“Read the shorts, MISTER Miller.” You say it as much venom as you can muster. 

His eyes rake down your body and you can almost feel them burning into you. It feels so good, you never want him to stop. Your pussy throbbed when he called you a brat and you wouldn’t be surprised if your light jean shorts hadn’t been soaked through already. When his eyes reach the pocket he sees ‘Kiss My Ass, Cowboy’ stitched in baby pink lettering and his grip tightens. 

He’s fucking furious with you. Furious that you’re here. Furious that other men get to see you dressed like this. Furious that he wants you so fucking badly. But mostly, furious because he knows you want him too and he’s a weak weak man when it comes to pretty little things like you. He yanks you back against his body and you let out a pained moan. 

“Don’t make me punish you,” he says coldly in your ear and you fight to stop your knees from buckling. 

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you say breathlessly. 

Joel’s lips graze against the shell of your ear, hand gripping so tightly that you’re sure you’ll have bruises tomorrow. “So that’s what you want? You want me to punish you? Put you in your place? Huh?” 

You grind your ass back against him, “you would dare, Joel.” 

His other hand clamps down on your hip as he steers you to his truck, walking you around so no one can see the two of you. He opens the back door and pushes you forward until your legs are against the cold steel frame of the vehicle. “You don’t get to call me that. You call me Mr Miller from now on. Understood?” 

“Go fuck yourself, Joel,” you emphasize every vowel of his name, digging deeper. Pushing him. Pushing to see how far he’ll go. You get off on being a brat, and by the way his hard cock is pressing into your ass, he does too. 

He unbottons your shorts then lifts you slightly and pushes your upper body down onto the seat, the truck is high enough that your feet are dangling, ass stuck out for him. “Look at these slutty little shorts.” He tugs on the hem, your shorts now sitting just above your knees. Your pert ass is exposed to Joel and the night air. He tuts at the sight of you, “No panties. Little fuckin’ tease.” 

You whimper at his words, slick starting to coat your thighs. “You’re the one standing back there doing nothing.” You taunt. 

The cool night air spreads goosebumps across your skin, your clit twitches in anticipation of his touch. Other men have fucked you hard to get you to shut your mouth. And finally, FINALLY, you’re going to get fucked by Joel Miller. However, you grossly underestimated the different between the boys were with before and the man behind you now. 

His hand strikes your cheek hard and you let out a loud pained yell. “What the fuck, Joel!” 

“If you’re gonna be a brat,” his hand lands on your ass again, “you’re going to get a spanking.” His voice is harsh and rough as he hits you a third time. The sound of his skin on yours echoing through the cab of his truck. He hits you again, not caring about your cries of protest. 

You’ve never been spanked before and you’re thrown by your bodies reaction to it. At first you were shocked, then humiliated and then the pain and heat travelled to the base of your spine and you found yourself starting to get turned on. Arousal pools in your belly with each strike of his palm and when your pussy throbs the humiliation starts to creep back in. Are you supposed to be enjoying this so much, is this what Joel wants?

You bend your knees up, trying to make space between your bodies. One of his strong hands wraps around your ankles, pinning them to the back of your thighs as he spanks you again. 

“Stop! I’m sorry. I’ll - “ he strikes you again, harder than the last few times and there’s no more pain, every slap is full of pleasure. You let out a deep moan, your pussy practically gushing onto the leather seats. “Oh fuuuuck.”

Now that it’s turning you on it almost eggs Joel on. “Put your hands out in front of you,” he commands. Your arms shoot out, stretching them across the seat above your head. “Such a needy little slut. You’re drippin’ all over my fucking seat, baby girl.” He strikes you again and your arms flinch. “Keep them there.” 

Your ass is starting to get pink, his splotchy handprints covering it. The world around him starts to fade, all that he can see is you and your ass - and he wants to make it hurt. Then he wants to make it good. So very good. 

His strikes keep coming, he’s like a man possessed. “Stop, Joel. Please.” 

He drops your ankles, then uses his hand to spread your thighs apart, the denim biting into your knees. “Shhh…just a little bit more. Look at this messy pussy. You don’t want me to stop.” 

He hits you again and you start to hate how much he’s right. You don’t want him to stop, you’re on the verge of coming and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re sure the second he’s near your clit you’ll explode. 

Both of your cheeks are glowing red and Joel finally stops. You’ve both lost track of how many times he’s hit you. His large palm rubs the marks. You know you should keep your mouth shut, but fuck do you love to rile him up. 

“Are you done now? I have work to get back to.” 

Joel growls behind you. You hear the sound of his belt undoing, the leather whipping out from the demin loops. “I’m sick of your goddamn mouth, baby girl.” 

Your eyes widen in fear, stomach twisting up over the thought of him striking your sore ass with his thick leather belt. Your pussy, however, flutters in excitement. Slut, you think to yourself. 

You hear his buckle clinking, he grabs you by the hair and jerks your head back. “Open you mouth,” he says with a snarl. You obey him and he slides the folded up leather between your teeth. “Bite down on this. You can speak to me again once you’ve learned your lesson.” 

You press your teeth into the rough leather, waiting for his next move. His hand comes across the back of your thigh and it’s a whole different sensation. The pain shoots straight to your core, the walls of your pussy clenching harder than your teeth do as you whine out a high pitched squeal. On instinct your hands shoot back, knees bending to protect yourself from him. He steps back from you, without his heat you’re left in the cold air. 

“Arms up and legs down,” he says in an eerily calm voice. 

You whimper again, grinding your teeth against the leather of his belt before slowly peeling your arms and legs away from your body, returning to Joel’s desired position. You’re so wet that it’s staring pool along the leather seat of Joel’s truck, your hips slipping slightly. 

“Dirty little thing. I’m tryin to punish you and you’re sopping wet.” He steps forward and lays a loud sharp slap with perfect precision right across your sore thigh. 

You yelp again, whining as your lash line fills with tears. This is not what you thought would happen when Joel threatened to punish you. And you definitely didn’t expect to fucking love it. You’re so turned on that you feel dizzy. 

Joel’s lips come to your thigh. Light kisses and his scratchy facial hair peppering along your red hot skin. “Fuck me,” you say around the leather clamped between your teeth. 

Joel laughs into your skin, kissing along the handprints he’s left on your ass. You’re squirming underneath him, pushing your ass towards his face, desperate for him to make you come. His hands grip around your shorts and your whole body relaxes at the thought of him finally fucking you. “I need you to listen to me now, ok?” 

You nod fervently and he lets out an amused laugh. You arch your back at him invitingly, but instead of removing your shorts he yanks them back up. You moan out in protest as he lifts you down from the truck. His strong fingers work to do up your shorts before he spins you. You look like a wreck; mascara smudged under your eyes, cheeks pink, eyes glazed and dopey looking. Cock drunk and he hasn’t even given it to you. He grabs the belt and you release it for him. It’s killing him not to fuck you right here and now. 

His hand cups your chin, squeezing your cheeks and locking eyes with you. “Do you want me to fuck you?”

You try to nod but he’s gripping you so tightly. “Yea? Then you need to do what I say. Ok?” 

“Mm-hmm” 

“Go in there and quit. Then come back out here and I will fuck you so hard that you’ll feel it in your throat.” 

Taglist:

@corazondebeskar @hiddenbabynyc @rainstorms-library @smutsmutslut @sullyrocky44 @keylimebeag  @pimosworld @casa-boiardi @pedritoferg @paleidiot @lorilane33 @pansexual-potatoes @baar-ur @jessthebaker @jasminedragoon @koshkaj-blog @pedroswife69 @strawberri-blonde  @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @iloveenya @javierpena-inatacvest @blazeflays @mermaidgirl30

[jiyascepter]

The Tattoo | 18+ Only

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Rockstar!Bucky x Fem!Tattoo Artist!Reader

Words: 3820

Summary: Bucky, the charismatic and wildly popular rock performer of America, asks for a tattoo from you in a rather..."unconventional" place 👀

Warnings/Content: Smut; Use of "Y/n", Lightly drunk Bucky & Steve, shy/nervous reader, cursing, mention of tattoo needles (no tattoo making scene!), cocky & teasy bucky, mention of getting tattoo on dick, bucky smokes a bit, bucky has piercings and tattoos on his body, semi-public, m!masturbation, handjob, blowjob, kissing, biting, licking, nipple licking (both male and female receiving!), acliteration, riding, praising, nicknames, begging, missionary, softdom vibes from bucky ;) lmk if i missed anything!

A/n: my first bucky fic!! i hope you all like it 𖹭 also there's a lil pun in the last line if u see it which i wanted to add for no reason || also thank you @buckys-wintersoldier & @vbecker10 for motivating my lazy ass to finish this fic, bucky is sending kisses your way <3

The hum of the tattoo machine had just died down as you began cleaning up your shop for the night, the last customer thanking you for the beautiful work you did on her arm.

The familiar scent of ink and disinfectant mingled in the air, grounding you after a long day of work.

The night was winding down, and you were just about ready to call it a day when you heard the sound of a powerful engine gliding down to the dirt road, roaring in the quiet of the small town nestled in the heart of South America, reminiscent of a Midwest American town but infused with a distinctive Latin flavour.

You walk over to your window, which was painted with bold texts of “TATTOO” in different fonts and colours all over, but there was still space to peek at what was happening outside.

The car's rich wine paint gleamed under the moonlight and came to a halt just outside the porch of your shop.

Dust swirled in its wake, kicked up from the gravel road, the familiar vintage Mustang came to a halt just outside the pavement of your shop.

The doors opened from both sides and silhouettes of two men momentarily outlined against the street lights as they got out of the car and you immediately recognized who they were.

James “Bucky” Barnes. The popular, deliciously sexy rockstar of America. Lead vocalist and sometimes drummer of his band.

For over a year he had been your regular customer, gotten about five tattoos on his amazing body from you, secretly away from the eyes of the paparazzi.

He used to drive from the city to your little tattoo shop settled in the small town, just to get a tattoo from you because of the popular reviews about your talented and clean tattoo skills.

Despite his fame and money, he wanted his tattoos from an “authentic” tattoo shop situated in the Midwest.

You had always had a crush on him, even before he became your customer, used to seeing him go all crazy on the stage.

And oh he looked so hot doing that.

He was with his friend and guitarist of the band, Steve Rogers today and your breathing hitched when you saw them both get out of the car just outside your shop.

You were used to him visiting usually during the early mornings, but it was the first time he drove in this late.

The sound of Bucky's laughter, mixed with the boisterous voice of his guitarist Steve Rogers, drifted through the shop's glass window.

They staggered, arms over each other’s shoulders as they giggled over what you could not figure, but it was something stupid for sure.

Were they…drunk?

Not wanting them to see you peeping at them like a nosy neighbour, you quickly pulled back from the window and pretended to be back to cleaning your equipment.

The faint chime of the customer bell was heard when they both entered, a light drunken grin on both of their faces.

“There’s my favourite tattoo maker.” Bucky spoke in a deep rumble that made your stomach roll.

You turned and looked at him with a smile on your face. “Mr. James! It’s been so long since you..last visited...” You cringed at how excited you sounded in the beginning.

“Yeah it’s been a whi…oh come here…” He slurred and pulled you in a hug, surprising you with it, your face meeting the hard muscles of his chest. You blushed a little and Steve grinned at the sight.

Maybe it was the drink, because you two had never hugged. You had always tried to maintain yourself in front of him enough to not let him know that you had a massive crush on him.

You try to calm yourself when he pulls away, hating how you were always nervous around him. You looked up at him, then Steve and said with a nervous chuckle, “Uhm…What are you two doing here at this hour anyway?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Oh, he needs a tattoo.” Steve says eagerly.

You sighed, shaking your head. “Sorry, Mr. James, I can't give you a tattoo when you're drunk.”

“I'm not drunk,” Bucky insisted and Steve agreed.

You could smell the alcohol on his breath and gave him a sceptical look. “I can smell it right from your breath, Mr James.”

He reached out and took your hand, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "Y/n, please. I'm not drunk, and I need to do this." He put extra emphasis on the word "need," his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.

Damn those blue eyes.

You sighed, feeling the familiar flutter of nerves in your stomach. "Al-Alright…but if you regret it tomorrow-”

“-he won’t, that's a promise. Besides, we’re still in our senses.” Steve says, patting Bucky’s back.

You smiled and agreed.

“Okay then, I’ll get going for a drink while he gets inked.” Steve says, asking the routes of the nearby local bar from you.

Once he left, you looked at Bucky and politely asked him to take a seat on the tattoo bench. “So, where are you planning to get the tattoo?”

He smirked and took a seat on the tattoo bench, taking off his dark leather jacket and keeping it aside. “I was thinking if you could give me a tattoo on my, well, let's just say it's a bit unconventional.”

You look at him sceptically, “where do yo-” it took a moment for you to realise what he was implying. When it clicked, your eyes widened, and a blush crept up your cheeks. "You mean…?"

“Yup,” he confirmed, enjoying your reaction. “On my cock.”

“It's a dare by Steve,” he added with a chuckle.

Ah, so that’s why Steve was so eager.

Oh god, you think. You had tattooed his inviting arms, irresistible abs, and even his thighs (only god knew the struggle you endured to control yourself that time), but you had never imagined giving him one on his most precious body part. Your heart hammered in your chest.

You had tattooed plenty of people in intimate areas before, but this was Bucky Barnes. THE Bucky Barnes. Your secret crush, the rockstar you had always fantasised about. And now he was standing in your shop, asking you to tattoo his most private area.

“I, uh, okay,” you managed to say, your voice shaking slightly. “But you’ll need to… you know, get it…hard.”

He grinned. “That will not be a problem, sweetheart,” he says in a flirty manner.

Ugh, why was he like this? If this man never flirted with you, acted like a stereotypical asshole celebrity, maybe you would have lost interest in him and would not have been stuttering and blushing for no reason. But he was always so sweet and so direct with his words.

“T-then you can lay down and get comfortable…I’ll…get the things ready…” you instructed, trying to sound like this was just another Thursday for you, and it was, but not when it’s HIM.

You turned your back to him, gathering your supplies and trying to calm your racing heart. You positioned your seat so you couldn’t see him while he worked himself up, but you could hear every little noise he made.

After a slight rustling of his clothing, the dark denim jeans– the creaking of the tattoo bench when he laid down, you knew the rock singer was absolutely naked behind you.

In no time you could hear his soft groans that sent shivers down your spine. You fought the urge to take a quick glimpse.

“No, no, no, this is so wrong,” you muttered to yourself. You try to busy yourself cleaning the needles, but the way he was making those sounds made it really hard to concentrate.

Bucky, leaned back on the tattoo bench, the cool air of the shop brushing against his skin as he worked himself up. He tried to imagine all the girls he’d ever fucked, but the setting was not quite adding up.

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched you busy yourself with the supplies. His keen blue eyes took in every detail of your nervous movements, the way your hands trembled slightly as you gathered the ink and needles.

He could sense your flustered state, the barely contained excitement in your voice, and the way your cheeks had flushed a deep pink when you realised what he wanted.

He smirked to himself, he loved seeing you flustered, the way your voice hitched when you spoke to him. It was endearing.

As he lay there, waiting for himself to get fully hard, he couldn’t help but think about how much he enjoyed teasing you.

He loved the way your cheeks flushed when he called you sweetheart, the way your eyes darted away when he caught you staring at his body.

He had suspected for a while that you had a crush on him, and the thought had crossed his mind more than once: what would it be like if he made a move? Tonight, with the alcohol loosening his inhibitions, he decided to push the boundaries a little more.

“Y/n…?” His voice broke the chain of your sexy thoughts.

“Mhm…?” You responded, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Do you wanna take a look, sweetheart?” he teased.

Your face burned with embarrassment.

Did he figure you out? That you were thirsting over his undoubtedly beautiful co– now was not the time.

“N-no,” you stammered, heart hammering in your chest.

He lets out a deep chuckle. “No? But you gotta look to draw on me.”

“Oh so you’re- are you ready, Mr James?” You say, deeply breathing to calm your nerves.

“I think I am, yes.”

You turned around slowly, your eyes widening at the sight of him lying there, fully exposed below, just his shirt on. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your composure as you wore your silicone gloves and approached him with the rest of your supplies.

You tried to calm yourself. Maybe this would not be so tough if you didn’t think too much. You looked at his cock, your breathing hitched.

“Mr James…this…isn’t hard enough.” You say, cringing at your words.

He grins to himself. “Not hard enough huh?”

You nod shyly trying not to look at his cock again. “It needs to be fully erect…or the tattoo wouldn’t look good.”

He shifted a bit towards your side in his bench and said in a low tone, “How about you help me sweetheart?”

“H-help?” You reply, your voice trembling slightly.

Bucky’s eyes twinkled with perversity as he smirked at you. “I wouldn’t mind an…extra help.”

You shook your head, trying to resist the pull of his charm. “I really shouldn’t,” you insisted, but your resolve was weakening under his intense gaze.

Bucky leaned closer, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke. “Just a little assistance,” he murmured, his lips almost brushing against your skin, “from my sweet tattoo artist.”

You bit your lip, the temptation becoming too strong to resist. With a shaky breath, you nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. “Let’s get this over with, it’s…it’s getting late already…”

And with an unsteady hand you wrapped your hand around his needy member.

“Fuck,” Bucky hissed, nearly pushing his hips forward for you. You started stroking his semi-hard length, staring at it and then his face for the reaction. And oh, was he enjoying it. He was enjoying it too much.

“T-the gloves…” He almost whispered, gesturing to your silicone gloves you were wearing. “Take ‘em off…”

In no time you almost made it your goal to please him, taking off your gloves and gripping his cock tighter and brushing it up and down with your soft, bare hand.

You touched his red tip with your thumb, and noticed how it glistened with pre-cum at your touch.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this,” he whimpered, gripping the leather bench tightly with both of his hands. You looked at him and murmured with a shy grin, “I’m a tattoo artist, what did you expect?” He grinned at your answer, “such…skilled hands…baby, you’re a handful.”

You squeezed the base of his thick cock, and he let out the sexiest moan you must’ve heard from a man.

You watched as Bucky's face contorted with pleasure, your hand moving up and down his length, feeling the smooth, hot skin beneath your fingers.

Bucky’s voice ringed in your ears again, “Y/n,” he said low and husky, “take a lick, sweetheart.”

Your heart pounded in your chest, your body responding to his request before your mind could catch up.

You leaned down, your breath warm against his skin, and flicked your tongue across his tip, tasting the salty pre-cum. His reaction was immediate, a sharp intake of breath followed by a deep, guttural moan.

“Fuck, I knew you wanted it,” he whispered, his hands clenching the edges of the leather cushion. You gripped the base of his cock, holding it while your other hand massaged his balls.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he murmured. Encouraged by his response, you took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the head before taking him deeper. He groaned louder, his hips bucking slightly as you sucked him, your hand still working his base.

Bucky's hand—adorned with several metal rings—found its way to your hair, gently guiding your movements as you bobbed your head up and down. "Just like that, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice strained with pleasure. "You like my cock, don’t you?"

“Mhm…” you hummed, releasing his cock from your mouth and putting it in again. You felt a surge of pride at his words, your arousal growing with each passing second.

You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper into your mouth, feeling him swell and harden further. His moans grew louder, more desperate, and you knew he was getting close.

Before he could finish, you cooed in your sweetest voice, “Mr. James, I need you inside me.”

Bucky's eyes darkened with lust at your whispered request, a predatory smirk playing on his lips. “Cutie wants that huh?”

Without waiting for a response, he leaned forward and captured your lips in a heated kiss, his tongue immediately delving into your mouth.

The kiss was hungry, passionate, his hands roaming your body with an urgency that made your head spin.

His hands surrounded your waist, grabbing hold of the hem of your top and lifted it up from your body and kissed you hungrily again. He discarded it carelessly, his hands immediately finding your breasts, kneading them through your bra.

“Aren’t you a sexy thing,” he growled against your lips, his fingers expertly unclasping your bra and tossing it aside. He pulled you closer and you lifted your knee up on the bench between his legs.

His mouth descended to your breasts, sucking and nibbling on your nipples, making you moan and arch your back, pressing yourself against him.

He swirled his tongue over and over your aching nipples, his hands working their way to pull off your jeans. Your hands grabbed hold of his shirt almost needily, lifting it off of him to reveal his sexy, tattooed body with abs as if daring you to take a lick.

“I need you, Mr Ja-” he kisses you again, shutting you up. “It’s Bucky for you.”

His words made your cheeks go red as you nodded.

He grinned at your flushed face, his big hands roaming to your back and down while his tongue found its place back on your nipples. His hands undo your jeans, pulling them down to reveal your panties.

He pulled away from your nipples and pulled both of your knees on the tattoo bench, holding your butt while he pressed kisses on your belly. He squeezed your bottom before pulling your panties off too, leaning down and placing a kiss on your mound.

“You wanna ride me, babygirl?” He asked breathlessly. You nodded almost greedily at the idea.

His hand slides gently around the back of your neck, his touch firm yet tender. With a subtle tug, he pulled you closer, and his lips met yours in a needy kiss.

He lifted you effortlessly onto the tattoo bench, positioning you so that you were straddling him. His cock was hard and ready, pressing insistently against your wet entrance.

You moaned as you felt him against you, your body aching with need.

“So needy aren’t you, baby?” He grinned, slowly sliding his member against your wet clit. “All wet and ready for me…I’m already leaking cum at the sight of you.”

“Bucky please…” You whimpered, not able to take the tension aching between your legs.

He smirked and licked his thumb (oh what a sight!) and softly grazed it against your nipples. His cold metal ring on the thumb only added to your pleasure. You softly gasped, the need building from the friction of his cock and this wasn’t helping at all.

He chuckled in a low voice, “you’re so cute,” looking at your reactions and how you tried to not melt on him then and there.

“Please,” you breathed, “I need your cock inside me.”

“Stop driving me crazy,” he says, biting his lower lip and sitting up to meet your face, his slicked member pressing against your bud.

He pressed kisses against your jaw, moving down to lick your neck and gave you a bite.

“You’re getting so shameless aren’t you?” He murmured against your skin, his tongue swirling over the spot on your delicate neck. “First you can’t even look at my face properly, and now you’re begging for my cock like a slut?”

You dived your finger in his dark hair, gripping it while he made you crazier with his lips and teeth on your neck.

“Fuck me.” You breathed.

He pulled away and licked his lips, looking at your face. “Poor baby,” he whispered and leaned against the tattoo bench comfortably, positioning himself against your entrance properly.

With a groan, he thrusted up into you, filling you completely in one swift motion. You cried out as he stretched you, the sensation overwhelming and intoxicating.

He paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the feeling of him inside you, his hands moving to your waist to guide your movements.

"Ride me, baby," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Show me how much you want me."

You began to move, slowly at first, lifting yourself up and down on his cock, feeling the delicious friction as he filled you over and over again. His big and hard member stretched your insides while you moaned helplessly.

“Fuck– so hot,” he murmured with a little drunken grin on his face.

His hands gripped your hips, helping to guide your movements, urging you to go faster, harder. You obliged, your pace quickening, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure built inside you.

Bucky's hands slid up your back, pulling you down so your bodies were pressed tightly together. You moved down to lay against his hard chest, while his hand gripped your arms behind your back while he started jerking his hips with a smooth motion.

You licked his nipple, your tongue encircling his piercing and taking it between your teeth, pulling at it. Bucky’s face skewed into pleasure and surprise.

Surely he wasn’t expecting that move from someone as you.

“Damn– are you tryna eat me up today or somethin’?” He says, loving the sight of you.

You grinned against him and pressed kisses against his chest while he started to thrust into you faster. He kissed you hungrily, his tongue exploring your mouth as he thrust up into you with a renewed intensity. The new angle sent jolts of pleasure through your body, your moans muffled by his kiss.

You could feel the pressure building inside you, the tension coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

You sit back on him, riding him out, getting him and his cock all wet in your fluids. He gripped your arms tighter, hitting the perfect spot inside you when he started to fuck you almost mercilessly.

Your walls clenched around him.

He picked you up, his cock still throbbing inside you while he got up from the tattoo bench and laid your back on it. The cool leather against your back sent shivers down your spine, contrasting with the heat radiating from your body.

His eyes, dark with lust, locked onto yours as he leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

“God, you're so tight,” he groaned, his voice thick with pleasure. Each thrust grew more powerful, more intense, as he pounded into you.

You couldn't take your eyes off his chest, mesmerised by the way his piercings shook with every movement, adding to the intoxicating sight.

His neck muscles stretched and tensed, enhancing the raw, primal allure of his powerful body moving against yours.

You could feel the tattoo bench creaking beneath you, but all you could focus on was the incredible sensation of him inside you, the way he seemed to fit perfectly.

"Bucky," you gasped, "I'm so close."

His response was a low, guttural growl. "Come for me, baby," he commanded, his hips snapping forward with a force that made stars dance behind your eyelids. "I want to feel you come around my cock."

His words pushed you over the edge, and with a cry of his name, your orgasm crashed over you, your body convulsing with pleasure.

Your walls tightened around him, and you could feel him throbbing inside you, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release.

You looked so pretty when you were drunk on him.

"Fuck, Y/n," he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he drove into you one last time, his own climax hitting hard before he pulled out and released himself all over your pussy.

He rubbed his tip against your messy clit, the sensitivity of it making you moan and whimper.

You could feel the mix of your fluids dripping from you, while you panted and just laid on the tattoo bench trying to catch your breath.

He grinned at the sight of you, then began to pull his clothes back on, still watching you with a satisfied smirk as you tried to regain your strength and catch your breath.

Once dressed, he leaned down to your face, “I knew you’d be incredible, my sweet tattoo artist.” The nickname jolted you back to the reason he was here in the first place.

“Bucky, I–” He shushed you, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

His eyes lingered on your exposed breasts as he smirked, “I’ll come again for the tattoo tomorrow,” he said, leaving the shop with a chime of the door, lighting up a cigarette.

┈➤ Bucky Taglist in the comments! Lmk if you want to join or just click this 𖹭 Thx for reading !

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

logan howlett blurb 18+

hi hi im sorry guys this isnt awesome but i love my wolverine and maybe ill make a part two or perhaps something cool like that if ya like it! also just general warning for smut and some kinky age gap stuff! also. reader is fem and a mutant! word count: 1030 edit: you can now read a full version of this blurb here!

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

"Aw, I'll make it up to you," he smirks, "Promise, spitfire."

[lunajay33]

Migraine🕷️

Summary: You get frequent migraines but they’ve been mia since the apocalypse but even since you got to the farm they’ve returned but you didn’t wanna bother anyone until Daryl finds you balled up on the floor in pain

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Request by @avrmee

•Masterlist•

Soul crushing migranes were always a struggle to deal with before the world ended, but there was ways to try and relieve them, medicine, piercings, acupuncture but now that it’s been about a year and there was no more medicine or anything really the migraines came back and almost stronger than before

They’d come on when the heat was high and the sun was near blinding, triggering what ever it was in your head to cause crippling pain that no matter how much pressure you applied to your eyes or the amount of water you drank it didn’t matter, but in this world you couldn’t afford to take a day off especially with all the work the others were putting into the prison it was only fair you pull your weight even through the pain

Walking out of prison, opening the door to the blinding white light that was the Georgia sun stung just hoping it didn’t flair up another episode, walking out to the court yard where Daryl was tinkering on his bike you sat next to him

“I missed you this morning” you said leaning your head against his shoulder as he used a wrench against…..well you have no clue but you loved watching him work

“Sorry ya know I’m an early riser plus ya’ve been sleeping lot longer now, ya okay?”

You didn’t wanna worry him and tell him that after these long days of over exerting yourself in the heat that the pain in your head kept you awake late into the night causing you to wake up later than everyone else

“Oh yeah I’m fine, just tired is all, plus I got a beautiful sight next to me at night it’s hard to fall asleep” you laughed poking his side making him gruff out a laugh

“Well I have to go work on the crowd of walkers around the fence, if you need me I’ll be there” I said leaving his side walking down to the entrance gate, using a pole to take down as many walkers as you could working your way down the fence, working for hours when you felt an aura around your head, the groans and snaps of jaws became louder and overwhelming, your knees became weak, you became nauseous as your vision became blurred and specked with black dots, all topped off by the painful pressure in your head

Losing control you dropped to the gravel clutching your head in your hands, knees tucked up to your chest, whining from the pain, this is one of the worst it’s ever been, in the distance you could hear your name being yelled but everything was so overwhelming you couldn’t even process it until the screams got closer

“Y/n baby what’s wrong” Daryl asked holding your body close to his, your head in his lap as he rubbed your back

“It…….it hurts so much” you whined as you clutched your head more wishing for this pain to fade

He just held you for what felt like half an hour trying to comfort me, the walkers noises started to dwindle someone must have came down with Daryl to take them out, you huffed out a breath as the pain subsided a bit giving you enough strength to sit up, seeing his worried expression

“What happened?” He asked brushing my disheveled hair back

“I get this awful migraines, I didn’t wanna say anything and use it as an excuse but they keep me up at night but sometimes they get so bad, like this and I don’t know how to stop them”

“Darlin ya should have said something, we’d understand, I could’ve tried to help ya at night”

“I know how hard you work all day you need your sleep”

“But if yer feeling sick yer more important, promise me you’ll let me help ya”

You bit your lip hesitant not wanting to be a burden

“Y/n” he said sternly

“Okay I promise”

“Good, ya know yer damn stubborn”

“You love me” you said smiling

“Yer lucky I do”

[sunflowerwinds]

first night traditions | e.w

summary: back for your third summer in a row, you reconnect with your friends you hadn’t seen for a whole year, including one ellie williams. seeing her again brings back the silly crush you developed on her the first summer. you promised yourself that this summer would be different but your heart is betraying you.

pairing: ellie wiliams x fem!reader

contains: fluff, tension between ellie and abby, characters from a different au (steve & robin from stranger things), probably inaccurate depictions of summer camp because i’ve never been, maybe flirty!ellie :)

word count: 4.1K

a/n: i literally couldn’t think of any other name for extra characters. stranger things had been heavy on my mind even though 90% of the cast and production team are so insanely problematic. fuck the duffer brothers. but i am so so excited for yall to see what i have for this. a day late posting i apologize but i hope you guys enjoy <33

under the summer stars masterlist

For the past two summers, you’ve been a camp counselor at Little Explorers Summer Camp. As irritating as the summer heat made you, being able to spend a month in this little paradise with the sweetest kids in the world made the burning UV rays worth it. You pulled into the parking lot, watching your friends from previous summers lining up beside you. You sent a text to your dads to let them know you’d arrived safely at the campsite.

As you adjust your minimal amount of makeup, you hear a knock on your window causing you to jump slightly and turn down your music that you had been listening to on the 3 hour drive. You turn your head and gasp in excitement as your good friend and fellow counselor, Jesse, tugs open your door.

“Oh my god, Jesse!” You chuckle as you step out of your driver's seat to wrap your arms around his neck.

He chuckled against your temple as he wrapped his arms around you, patting your back.

“Holy shit! Have you been working out? You nearly choked me out just now.” Jesse joked as he pulled back from your embrace.

You put your arm up to flex playfully, nodding with a cheeky smirk.

“Prepping for this summer, you know?” You shrugged your shoulders before looking over his shoulder to see a familiar blonde head making her way over.

“I think we should really put that to the test,” the blonde folded her own muscular forearms over her chest.

You make your way over to her to give her a tight hug as you had missed her presence dearly. Abby had become a close friend of yours after your first summer as a counselor being a year older than you and having more experience than you did.

“Abs, I missed you,” you laugh softly as she gives you a squeeze, slightly lifting you off the ground.

“I missed you too. Ready to deal with whiny kids and minimal air conditioning for a month?” Abby grinned from ear to ear as she pulled away, patting your shoulder.

“Oh, nothing but excitement and not at all fear,” you give her a thumbs up before you turn to see Jesse opening up your trunk to grab your suitcase.

You thank him as he breezes past you with your two suitcases, watching him walk down the gravel road to the counselors cabin. Abby mumbles ‘show off’ as Jesse lunges with your suitcases on either shoulder causing you to chuckle. The sun beat down on your exposed neck, beads of sweat already trickling down your back and centering on your upper lip.

You and Abby get to talking as you shut your car door, double locking it as you had the tendency to forget to lock your car. Abby explained to you how she had been excelling as a personal trainer back home, loving the differences she makes in people's lives. You were a barista at your campus when you weren't here at the campsite.

As you both walk up to the camp main office cabin, you notice a few other familiar faces. Dina, another fierce friend of yours, and Joel, one of the only mature adults in charge, both leaning against the old wooden railing with bright smiles.

“Well, who are those sexy ladies?” Dina shouts, cupping her palms over her mouth.

The sound caused the birds in the trees to scatter, you flinching at fluttering and squawking above you. You shake your head with a blush from not only the heat but her words.

“Dina,” Joel says warningly.

“What? The kids aren’t here yet.” Dina rolled her eyes playfully before making her way towards the two of you.

She threw each of her arms around your necks to pull you both into a quick but sweet hug.

“You’re one to talk. Hello? Your hair is growing and have you been doing squats?” You check her out as you admire her figure.

“My genetics blessed me.” Dina insisted with a bright smile.

The three of you were all sharing conversation as you walked up the steps, giving Joel friendly smiles and ‘hello’s. You peeked inside the cabin to see Jesse talking to the one person you were ashamedly the most excited to see. There she stood in a black tight wife pleaser, arms crossed in front of her chest as she nodded to whatever Jesse was rambling about. She even stopped her conversation with the man to walk up to you to give you the tightest hug, her toned arms wrapping around your frame.

Ellies’ sigh brushed against your temple, like she was relieved to see you. After all these summers, no one ever exchanged numbers so you yearned for her presence at the beginning of the month of June. Your dads already gave you a million pep talks but you told them your crush on Ellie was no more. Your heart betrayed your mindset as it fluttered at her grip on you, melting into the embrace without even realizing.

That is until Jesse spoke up.

“Jesus, Ellie, you guys are going to have a whole month together.”

This caused you to flip him off behind Ellie’s back. Ellie, sadly, pulled away regardless but didn’t let Jesse’s comment go unpunished and gave him a punch to his shoulder. He simply winced and rubbed the skin, shaking his head at the auburn haired girl.

“You’re just jealous because I’m her favorite,” Ellie snipped with a confident smile.

You couldn’t even lie as it wasn’t far off. It made you over think how you act around her. Have you made it obvious these past two summers how much you favored her?

“So are you guys excited for tonight?” Dina pipped in, raising her thick eyebrows as she glanced at everyone.

Every summer for as long as this camp has been active, all of the counselors take a night to go for a late night swim and a beautiful campfire to take the time to mentally and emotionally prepare for the next month.

The children come on Monday. It was Saturday so they had all of Sunday to prepare everything for the kids.

“Oh hell yeah. Dina and I are going to sneak into the dining hall to grab everything for the s’mores. What cabin did everyone get assigned to this year?” Jesse spoke up, grabbing the clipboard with everyone’s cabin and the amount of campers everyone had.

You glance at Ellie to motion to the clipboard. She grabbed your arm to tug you towards Jesse’s figure, peaking over at the highlighted names.

“Shit, Els, our cabins are right next to each other this year. T-Rex’s and Daisy’s.” You beam at her as you run your finger down the list.

“Finally. It’s been, like, three years and we’re right next door to one another.” Ellie looked over at you with just as much excitement in her sage green eyes.

You couldn’t help but match her excitement as you recalled the past two summers where the cabins you were assigned to were tens of feet away and you weren't able to see each other until lunch time or late at night. The cabins next to each other were usually teamed up to do activities with the kids together. More time to spend with Ellie.

Platonically and BFF-like, of course.

“Wait, Joel, where’s Steve and Robin?” You question the elder man as he walked through the screen door with a large box in his arms.

“Ah, those two will be here much later.” He paused to set down the box near a desk. “They missed a few exits and called ahead to let me know.”

You nod to yourself. Steve and Robin were like ying-yang twins. The brunette pretty boy and the freckled girl were the definition of platonic soulmates. It freaked you out how well they got along.

“Well until then, let’s all unpack our shit in our counselors cabins.” Jesse spoke up, grabbing one of his suitcases.

You agree and go to grab your suitcase when Abby and Ellie speak up.

“I can help—“

“Hey, no, I got it.”

You froze at the two of them reaching for your travel cases, looking in between the two of them.

“Guys, I can carry them myself,” you shake your head with a soft laugh but neither of the girls were having it.

“It’s like a mile walk to the Daisy cabin. I’m right next door. I can help,” Ellie emphasized, looking at Abby with a tight-lipped grin.

“A mile is not that far, Ellie. I really have no problem doing it.” Abby chuckled in Ellie’s face, grabbing the handle tightly to your carry-on suitcase with your toiletries.

Dina and Jesse exchange looks with you before silently maneuvering around the three of you to carry their own suitcases to their assigned cabins. Was there a weird tension between the two or was it just you?

“Okay! How about you both carry something? There. Problem solved.” You speak up, placing a hand on Ellie’s shoulder and turning to face Abby.

The two were driving causing your shoulders to set in a hunch at the strange encounter. The girls agreed on that before leaving the main cabin to yours. Abby’s biceps flexed as she carried the heavier suitcase with ease as Ellie rolled her eyes behind her, telling you to follow behind them so you could get settled in.

Reluctant already to walk in the shaded heat, you give Joel one more forced grin. He muttered ‘good luck’ before returning to his own tasks with what you swore was a teasing grin.

The walk to the cabin wasn’t as irritating as you were expecting as Ellie and Abby were right: you would’ve been complaining a lot more if you had a suitcase in each hand along with your carry on. The heat was causing your baby hairs to stick to your forehead, huffing in annoyance but keeping your snarky words to yourself as you arrived with the two very helpful girls.

Ellie kicked open the door, a soft grunt leaving her lips as she placed the suitcase she was holding next to your counselor bed. Abby did the same, stretching her palm in and out from the tight grip. You sigh as you lean against the doorway, feeling the cool A/C hit your face.

“See? Teamwork guys,” you give them both thumbs up. They looked back at you with panting chests but smiled at your words nonetheless. “I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit. Thank you, Els. Thanks, Abby.”

You give the girls a side hug — Ellie’s a little tighter than the blondes. Abby gave Ellie a look once over before leaving the cabin to have you and Ellie be on your own. Once the door shut, Ellie turned to you with a soft sigh. She placed her hands on her hips as she looked around at the cutesy decor that was floral themed. You took notice of how homey the bunk-beds felt in comparison to all of the other ones.

Sure, they were just as adorable but this one felt right. Or maybe it was the fact that a certain auburn haired girl was making you feel more at ease than ever.

“This is a cute little cabin. It suits you,” Ellie walked over to trace the mural of sunflowers with the campsite name in a beautiful cursive font.

“Right? It’s perfect. I mean, the Mushroom and Grizzly cabins were adorable but this feels a lot better for some reason.” You glance over at Ellie’s inked arm, sucking in a deep breath.

Ellie hummed in agreement, looking back over at you. You fiddled with your random bracelets, giving her the least awkward smile you could muster. She reciprocated the gesture right back and tilted her head to the left.

“I should probably head over next door to get all of my shit unpacked,” Ellie huffed out, walking over to you to be merely inches away from your face.

“I thought you were just going to annoy me for a little longer but if you wanna go, Els.” You tease, scrunching your nose at her.

She scoffed and leaned in, narrowing her eyes. “You love it when I annoy you.”

And how easily you could kiss me right now if you were willing, you thought.

“I guess I do since I keep you around,” you shrug your shoulders.

Ellie’s eyes poured into yours as she took a step back. Her hand reached at one of the ends of your braids, twirling it around her pointer finger. You watched her carefully as her smile slowly grew.

“You’re not sick of me yet?” She questioned, still messing with your hair.

Not in the slightest, your brain echoes.

“We’ll see. I’ll get back to you when the month is over.” You chuckle as she releases the dutch braid from her fingertips.

Ellie muttered ‘fair enough’ under her breath as she nodded to herself, a smile creeping on her lips. You watch her take a moment to glance around the cabin once over before inching towards the door.

“I’ll see you in a bit, okay? Campfire and then late night swimming.” Ellie pointed one finger at you expectantly.

“I know, Els. I’ll see you,” you give her one more nod.

“Wear something cute for the swim,” was the last thing she said before opening and shutting the door behind her.

You watched her now more blurred figure through the screen over the windows, waiting for her to leave before letting out a long sigh you weren't aware you were holding.

It was going to be a long month.

After unpacking for what felt like centuries, you had everything in their correct places and were able to peacefully make your way to the campsite. All of the beds were made, your counselor door had your name in dry-erase along with the rules for the camp opposite of the door.

And maybe you took into consideration what Ellie said about the cute outfit and threw on a pair of brown cargo shorts and a loose white tee. You only brought three pairs of shoes so you landed on your black and white Reebok Club C’s. What’s underneath was also taken into consideration.

As you were shutting the door behind you, you turned around to see Dina standing right in front of you with her arms crossed and eyebrows raised. You scoot back as she had scared you with her silent presence.

“Hey D, everything okay?” You tilt your head at her as you make your way down the steps.

“What the hell was that with Abby and Ellie earlier?” She trailed behind you, speeding up her steps to walk beside you.

You glance at Dina as you recall how intense hours before were between your other two friends; one whom you felt more deeply for.

“I really have no idea. It was… freaky but hey, I got out of carrying my luggage.” You joke and Dina nods along with a weak chuckle.

“Yeah, that is true but I don’t know. Ellie and Abby have always been neck in neck for some reason. They get along enough to be cordial but those two can get on each other’s nerves fast.” Dina explained to you.

You never really noticed it before. You assumed it was because if you weren’t trying to make sure the children were pulling or cutting each other’s hair, bullying one another or making sure their bladders were in check. Along with your flourishing and embarrassing school-girl crush on Ellie blinding you.

“Why?” You question as the two of you were approaching the campfire that was sparkling and crackling under the setting sun.

“I really have no idea, babe but what I do know is that you’re not being any less obvious with your crush on Ellie.” Dina nudged you as she jerked her head to Ellie who was watching Joel pulling at the strings of his acoustic guitar, a bottle of Coke dangling from her long fingers.

The green eyed girl had a small smile on her pink lips as she watched the father figure in her life sing lowly with the tune. Her effortless beauty to you was always captivating. Maybe Dina was right.

“My crush is extremely under control,” you lie straight through your teeth.

“Suppressing it and not confessing is not having it under control,” Dina stated with a sigh, shaking her head.

“Okay, enough talking about it. Plus, I’m trying to move on, D.” You lower your voice once you approach the group of familiar faces.

Dina pressed her lips into a thin line as she respected your wishes. What you told her was half true. Yes, you did want this crush to wither away in the wind but you didn’t actually have someone else to fixate on.

”Robbie, hey!” Dina approaches Robin, giving her a quick hug.

Robin rested her chin on her shoulder with a soft chuckle, reciprocating the motion. You make your way over to Steve who was chugging a lime Gatorade. Everyone was wearing a mix of tank top and tees with either jean or cargo shorts with athletic sneakers. Steve, being the manwhore he was, had on 5 inch inseam jean shorts. He looked like he stepped out of a 1987 slasher movie.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you tease as you stare at his head of gorgeous hair.

Steve rolled his eyes playfully before wrapping his free arm around your waist from where you were standing quickly. You hear Ellie and Joel snort at your statement as Steve shakes his head at their laughter.

“What’s up, Bubbles?” He grinned up at you.

Now the entirety of the camp erupted into giggles at his nickname for you. Last summer, the children in your cabin pranked you with the help of Jesse and Steve. The idiots got all 12 kids an extra large bubble gun and doused you in soapy bubbles right after getting out of the shower. You swore half of them just went up your nose and in your mouth. The HD photo of you is hanging in the main office for everyone to see.

“Alright, alright, enough. You guys are asses.” Ellie spoke up but she covered her mouth to hide her own laughter.

You sit down next to Abby and point across the fire at the auburn haired girl.

“You better keep one eye open at night.” You shake your head, allowing the warmth of the fire and the soft tunes of Joel’s guitar put you at ease.

Everyone else ‘ooh’d’ and ‘damn’d’ at your words as Ellie merely shook her head. She didn’t believe you were going to really do anything to her. That is until the blonde sitting next to you threw her muscular arm over your shoulders, tugging you into her side.

“I’ll help you prank Williams. Let me know before we go on our weekly trips to town.” Abby whispered into your ear which caused weird shivers to trickle down your spine.

You send her a small smile with a soft ‘thanks’.

Before you knew it, everyone was sharing how their past year has been since the previous summer. The sticks were passed around with the huge marshmellows at the end, everyone roasting them to a slight crisp. This camp had been a second home to you and these people had become like family. You found out that Robin had finally made a move on that girl she had been cruising on for the past year and had a date with her when she got back from camp which everyone drank to. You pressed your melting marshmellow in between two graham crackers, a small amount of chocolate between the two as you weren’t the biggest chocolate fanatic.

Ellie was almost pressured into playing the guitar tonight but she insisted she saved it for the kids.

Just when you were trying to get over her she said something as sweet as that. God, you hated her. After everyone had inhaled their s’mores, a series of sighs and complaints about how hot it was trickled down the line of counselors.

“Screw it. It’s time for that late night swim.” Robin stated, standing up on her high-top Converse covered feet.

Even though the sun had been set for almost two hours now, you were still warm all over. The cool lake would be heavenly. Everyone except for Joel got up from their seats on the logs, making their way over to the lake.

“Y’all be safe now. Ev’rybody knows what to do when you’re done swimming right?”

They were scattered ‘yes’s’ and ‘got it, Dad’. In a sense, Joel was like a father figure to you all since each and every one of you viewed him as such; comforting and an older man.

Once he gave you guys the ‘okay’, the group took off in a sprint to the bridge overseeing the lake. You let out a loud laugh as you watched Steve trip over his shorts as he kicked the denim off. Everyone had left their clothes and shoes on the small wooden pier, each of you plopping in one by one.

You set your shorts aside hanging on the rail along with your shirt and shoes. You tried to ignore the negative thoughts about Ellie seeing your body in just your underwear; a pair of hipster panties and a bralette because you couldn’t stand wired bras.

”Come on! The water feels amazing,” you hear Robin shout.

You saw Dina shoving Steve’s head into the water with joyous laughter. Jesse, Robin and Abby will peacefully swim around in the dark water. The only source of light being the singular lamp post at the end of the pier and the moonbeams bouncing off the still water.

Then you see a familiar head of wet auburn hair pop up at the end of the wooden ledge.

“Don’t make me get out of this water and push you in,” Ellie warned but her smile showed she was only teasing.

You flip her off before motioning for her to back away from the pier.

“Move your head, Els. I don’t wanna risk accidentally kicking you in the face when I jump in.” You give her a pointed look.

“I could get a badass black eye though,” she raised a hand to push back her wet hair out of her face, giving you more of a view of her stupidly perfect side profile.

“No, seriously. I don’t want to hurt you. Please move.”

Ellie muttered an ‘alright, sorry’ before swimming backwards so that she was now in the little group, all eyes on you. You took a few large steps back, the rough wood tickling underneath your bare feet. You heard a few shouts of encouragement come from Ellie and Abby’s mouths.

Within minutes, you were sprinting off the pier into the deep water. The borderline freezing lake engulfed your body entirely. When your head popped back up above the water, everyone was cheering you on for the jump. You were shivering a bit until Ellie came up behind you, placing her palms on either one of your shoulders. The warmth of her hands eased your goosebumps that raised on your skin.

“So you did wear something cute for tonight,” Ellie said lowly, the cockiest and most stupid grin on her face.

At first, you thought she meant the clothes that were hanging off the pier but no, she meant the underwear that was now clinging to your body. Your cheeks flushed at her words, moving your falling bra strap back onto your shoulder.

“This is what was at the top of my suitcase.” You state before splashing her face with the water, leaning in closer so that you were inches apart. “Not everything is about you, Ellie.”

Ellie spat out what water got in her mouth before shaking her head as she smacked her lips against her teeth. It shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was.

“I missed you,” was all she said.

No sarcastic comment back. It sounded so genuine and maybe you felt bad for talking to her in that manner. You had to if you were ever going to move on from this fantasy world of Ellie liking you back.

“Well, I’m here now. I missed you more, Els.”

Ellie shook her head. “You can ask Joel. He’ll embarrass me with how much I was talking about how excited I was to see you again.”

Don’t, you shouted at your rapid beating heart. She misses me as a friend.

“I don’t think I have to ask. He loves embarrassing you enough on his own,” you reply with a shrug of your shoulders, kicking your legs through the thick water to keep yourself afloat.

Ellie chuckled as she agreed.

“Well, anyway, I can’t wait to have fun with you again. ”

You nod mindlessly, completely enamored with how soft and gentle her eyes looked under the minimal light as she spoke to you. You whispered, “me too.”

You were so screwed.

tag list: @abbyshands @ih8chickentenders @elliesprettygirl @justhereforinspopics @be3flow3r @hearts4joongie @plutolovesyou @bready101

[olsenmyolsen]

Let's Go For A Little Ride

master list

dark master list

Driver Natasha AU (Female Reader X Natasha Romanoff)

Summary: For about two months, a redhead has stopped by your place of work, the diner, and ordered the same thing over and over. You two started as strangers, but what happens when she's about to leave?

Word Count: 3.3K

Content: Mutual Pining, Longing, Hot Natasha, Fluff, Kissing, Dangerous Driving

You hated quite literally everything at this exact moment.

You hated the feeling of your hair on your neck, along with the sweat on your forehead. You hated how every ungrateful customer seemed to be visiting the small diner you work at today. You hated how loud they were. You hated how you, even through all of that, in the back of your mind, you could hear your mother asking when you would get a better job or go back to school.

You hated it all.

And yet. As you calmed yourself down and walked out of the kitchen to the countertop of the small restaurant, it all seemed to fade into the background when a redhead in a leather jacket pushed through the front door, knocking it into the little bell above it.

With one look, she changed you and had you hooked.

Her name was Natasha Romanoff.

However, you didn't learn that until she came by again the following week around the same time. She was always sporting the same leather jacket. Her hair would change from braided to a ponytail or curls one weekend. But her green eyes danced with your eyes. They became softer every time the redhead came in.

By the third week, you found out Natasha had a cat. Liho. According to Natasha, she was a rescue and had a knack for "always getting me into trouble." You laughed a little too hard at that, but Natasha loved hearing it regardless.

Slowly but surely, your hatred of the job declined as your feelings and crush for Natasha expanded. Sure, you knew it was silly and that she was a paying customer who was kind to the person serving her food. But her lingering touches and sweet remarks couldn't have been for nothing, right? Plus, there are tons of other places a person with Natasha's physique could be eating at. So why continuously stop at your shitty little diner?

After around two months, you got an answer.

You lifted your eyes up and out the diner window as a roar came from a speeding black sports car that peeled off the road onto the gravel lot before pulling into a parking spot as if it were nothing. You guessed who it could be, but seeing the door open and Natasha rise out of the driver's side with her sunglasses, white tank, leather jacket, and a smile was just as perfect as you would think.

The few other patrons and wait staff also watched as the redhead walked into the diner like it was nothing.

Not that you or Natasha noticed. Too busy eyeing the other one up as, Natasha entered the business and came closer to the bar top with a shy smile. "Hi Y/n." Your name from her pink lips sounded more and more beautiful each time you heard it.

God what you wouldn't give to hear it another way.

"Hi, Natasha." You smiled back and placed a water and a menu in front of her, even if she hadn't ordered anything other than the same meal for the last couple of weeks. Natasha looked up from the closed menu in front of her to look at you in the eyes. She smiled as you nervously looked away before keeping your eyes locked with Natasha.

"What?" You said quietly before lifting your hand to wipe your face. "Is there something on me?" Natasha shook her head. "No. There's nothing." She giggled as she rested her arms on the counter, and suddenly, it felt like it was just the two of you as you looked into her dangerous green eyes.

"What time do you get off?" Natasha asked a series of words you had not heard before. You froze and stumbled with your own words before shutting your mouth and starting over.

"Four." You answered. Natasha hummed and looked at the clock on the wall. It was only a little past one.

Damn, you and your mid-shift.

Natasha looked back at you. "Okay." She spoke softly and smiled before opening the menu. You looked at Natasha and smiled back before furrowing your eyebrows a tad. You leaned a bit closer, the edges of your fingers running over the countertop. "Natasha?" Natasha put the menu down and looked back up to you. Awaiting your question. "Why do you want to know what time I get off?"

Natasha smirked and lifted her hands to place them gently on yours. "Because I want to hang out with you." Her touch was blazing hot, and it made you melt. "Outside of these four walls." She added, and you nodded. "That sounds nice." You replied, but the words flowed quickly and freely from your lips. You weren't sure you had actually said it.

But you knew you had when Natasha placed more pressure on your hands. It was comforting. "Good," Natasha replied, making you smile like an idiot before you blushed hard when Natasha said. "There it is." About your smile.

You wished to keep this moment alive and going, but of course, you had to pull your hands away and let the cool air hit you when a patron down at the end was asking for a refill of their coffee. "Sorry." You said to Natasha, who shook her head and waved you off. "Go. We'll have time later."

Time for what?!

You weren't sure, but Natasha stayed in the little diner at her spot at the counter for the remainder of your shift. You don't think you smiled that much and for that long in a while, but Natasha seemed to have that effect on you. That and made sure you did your best to embarrass yourself by dropping people's food and coffee.

Okay, yeah, it only happened twice, but still, when you looked up from the mess, Natasha's lips curved into a smile, which were the only thing you saw.

"Okay, so give me like a few minutes to grab my tips, and then I'll clock out." You said to Natasha as you were putting up your hair into a ponytail after your band broke. Natasha watched your fingers fly through your hair like a wave before she found your eyes and smiled at you. "That sounds great. I'll be out front." Natasha replied to you and went to pull out her wallet from her jacket, but you stopped her. "Don't worry about it. I covered it already."

Natasha looked up to you with a less than amused face. "You paid for my lunch?" Her voice wasn't as soft as before. Not that you noticed. You just loved it when she talked to you.

You finally took your hands away from your hair and smiled with a shrug. "Yeah, it was no big deal." Natasha continued to pull out her wallet and open it up. You could see stacks of bills inside. "You make money from what people order and how great your service is." Natasha pulled out a $50 bill to give to you. "Take it. You deserve it."

"Natasha, I'm not taking your money." You laughed. "We're more than just employee and customer." Natasha liked hearing that but hated that you were right because she still wanted to give you more than what you got from this place. But with a sigh, Natasha pulled the $50 back into her hand. "Fine. But you owe me."

"Owe you?" You questioned with a slight tease in your voice. Natasha nodded and smirked. She was having fun. "I'm taking you out sometime in the future." You smiled wide and stared into Natasha's green eyes for a moment. "I- uh- sure. That sounds great!" Natasha smiled back. "Great... I'll be out front."

Natasha pointed with her thumb to the sleek black car outside, and you nodded before watching her walk away.

Those jeans did wonders.

A few moments later, after Natasha told a guy to fuck off from touching the car, did you make it outside. Natasha watched your shoes hit the gravel as you made your way over. Natasha could also tell how you must've used the bathroom to try and freshen yourself up as you appeared to be lighter, not to mention how you were now wearing a grey sweatshirt and gym shorts instead of your yellow diner outfit.

"Hi." You awkwardly said as you stopped a few feet in front of Natasha with a bag over your shoulder. "Hi." Natasha smiled through her sunglasses and lifted herself away from the car. She stood next to you and looked back at it. "Do you like it?"

"The car?" You asked Natasha to ensure the two of you were on the same page. Natasha laughed at that. "Yes, the car." You looked from Natasha to the car again. Fully taking it in without a hot redhead in or on it. "It looks great!" You then looked back at Natasha. "What is it?"

Natasha laughed loudly and motioned for you to follow her to the drivers side. It being on the other side than what you were used to. Natasha opened the door for you and took your bag from your shoulder in one motion. The action makes your stomach flip and your brain break simultaneously. "Hop in," Natasha said as she took your bag and put it into the trunk.

This would be a surefire way to get kidnapped, but with Natasha doing it, maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

Still, you stood outside the vehicle. "Natasha, I'm all sweaty from work, and I smell like vanilla mixed with cheeseburgers. I don't think you want me in your car."

Natasha closed the trunk and walked back to you.

"Well, lucky for you, I like vanilla and cheeseburgers." She then shined her pearly whites at you as you blushed before she placed her hands on your arms and moved you to sit in the car. "Besides, it's not mine. I'm just testing it." Your butt touched the leather seats. "What do you mean it's not yours? You're testing it?" You questioned as Natasha walked around the car and sat in the passenger seat next to you.

God, she looked fucking sexy.

Natasha lifted her sunglasses and moved closer. Over the middle console. Her green eyes looking in your eyes. "I'm a test driver for multiple car companies. They send their cars out, or I fly to them." Suddenly, Natasha made a lot more sense. That's why you never had seen her until recently. That's also probably why she always drives something different every time she arrives for lunch.

Looking at her made you think of that Billie Eilish song.

You pulled your lip into your mouth before looking back at the car. "So what's this one?" You ran your fingertips carefully over the steering wheel. "This is a Lotus Emira." You nodded as if it meant anything, which made Natasha smile. You pretending to care.

"You can drive it if you want," Natasha said after a beat of silence. You whipped your head over to her. "How much does it cost?" Natasha tilted her head, not expecting that answer. "To drive it?" You shook your head. "The car."

"Over 100K."

You immediately hopped out of the driver's seat and started coming around the front of the car, which made Natasha chuckle before she exited the vehicle. "I'm going to leave the driving to you." Natasha smiled and followed you to the passenger door. She held it open for you and closed it once you got buckled in.

"The offer still stands," Natasha said as she started up the vehicle. Under Natasha's foot, it roared to life. You could feel the horsepower slightly shake the car, which Natasha assured you was normal.

But what definitely wasn't normal was how she kept glancing at you, almost like she was trying to look at every detail of your face. So much so that you called her out on it once the two of you were flying down the two-lane road to wherever.

"Okay, do I have something on my face now!?" You asked, making Natasha shake her head and playfully roll her eyes as she zoomed onto another road. "No, I'm sorry. I just..." Natasha trailed off as she thought of the right words to say. "You just?" You asked as Natasha slowed the sports car down once the two of you reached a fence. A security guard took one look into the car and waved you in.

Your question hung in the air as you were now on an abandoned airstrip. You looked around at the view before looking at Natasha. She stopped the car as the tires rolled onto the tarmac.

Natasha looked over to you. She lifted her sunglasses up and moved towards you. "I like you. I like seeing you."

Her answer took your breath away. Sure, you flirted or at least attempted to, and it worked?? She liked you??

"I- I like you too." You came right out and said it. No point in hid- "I leave in the morning."

Those words left Natasha's lips like she never wanted them said. They hurt.

"What?" You questioned, making Natasha lift her downcasted eyes to you. "They want me in Germany." She answered quietly before looking down as she picked at her fingers. "I wanted to tell you, but I wasn't sure what we were..."

Your heart formed cracks but grew warm all in one swoop.

And then the two of you sat quiet for a moment. Natasha lifted her eyes to you as you looked out the window of the car, off into the distance.

"I still like you." You turned to Natasha as she finally switched from her puppy dog face. "I like you too," Natasha stated again, making you blush. "I find it hard to believe." You replied with a laugh, making Natasha shake her head. "Not funny." She cleared her throat. "And it's easy to believe. I think you're stunning."

You threw your head against the car seat. "Natasha, there is no way that's true. You've only ever seen me all sweaty and greasy and-" "and smelling like vanilla and cheeseburgers." Natasha smirked as she finished your sentence. "I told you I like it."

Your face became red as you shook your head and turned your eyes out the window at the tarmac in front of you guys. "So now what?" You asked with a smile.

Natasha followed your eyes sight. "I guess we make the most of this moment." You turned to her. She looked at you. "There's some cars in the hangar over there." She gestured with her head to one on the left. "We can see which one suits you." Natasha winked before starting up the car.

Natasha and you spent the next couple of hours laughing and talking while you sat in the passenger seat as Natasha showed off the reasons she's the best.

It felt like you were in a movie whenever she spun the car around. Your hair flew out of your ponytail and into your face, making you laugh while Natasha shifted the car before laughing at you.

Scenes like that play out more and more.

You even took your shot at the slowest car in the hangar. You had never gone that fast in your life.

But it left you wanting more, wanting Natasha more. Wanting the night sky not to fall into you both. But yet it did. The stars shined bright in the sky above as you and Natasha laid on the hood of a car the was worth more than the two of you combined.

"How did you get started?" You asked as Natasha handed you a beer from a cooler she brought out from the hangar. "My friend Carol hooked me up. She's a professional driver in the GT women's series. Her team was looking for test drivers. She called me up, and one thing led to another, and now it's my career."

(A/n: Carol will be a future story too.)

You took a sip of your drink as Natasha talked. You could see it in her eyes how much she actually did enjoy it and love doing it. "That's great." You spoke up as Natasha looked at you with a sad smile. "Yeah, but I'm never in one place for too long. I can't really plant roots." Her green eyes looked at you and your lips before turning away.

You saw it.

"How long will you be in Germany?" Natasha wasn't sure, but she gave you a guess. "Three weeks. Maybe longer." You nodded as Natasha licked her lips before sipping the imported beer. "And after that?" You asked.

Natasha shrugged. "Don't know. Maybe here." She said, even though you both knew that probably wasn't true.

"It's okay." You said as you found yourself closer to Natasha. She looked into the sky and let the moment rest. "Hey, Natasha." You spoke up, making Natasha turn towards her left, and the next thing Natasha tasted was your lips on hers.

The two of you sharing a messy top lip kiss as you fall onto her. Natashas back hitting the hood of the car as you two find a rhythm. Natasha drops the beer bottle from her hand and lets it roll off the car before it smashes onto the ground as her hands find your hair. Her fingertips brushed against your scalp as she moaned into your lips. Your body presses against her before air becomes a problem.

The two of you pull away, catching your breath. Natasha looks at you with desire in her darkened eyes. You look at Natasha, shocked by your own actions. "I'm sorry." Natasha stops your stupid apology by kissing you softly this time. "Don't. It's okay." She whispers before she kisses you again with a smile.

"What time in the morning do you leave?" You ask as you separate before kissing again. "My flight is at 8." Natasha kisses you, and you melt like butter before lifting yourself away from Natasha. "We don't have to talk about it," Natasha says to try and help you in any way she can, but you shake your head as you think of a plan.

You look to the redhead. "Do you think we'd work together?" Natasha doesn't know what you're asking. "What do you mean?" She scoots close to you again. Her hand on your thigh. "Like..." You look away. "Like as a couple." You mumble before Natasha pulls your chin to look at her. "One more time?"

You smile. "Like as a couple..." Natasha hums and moves her hand up and down your thigh with some light pressure. "I don't know, honestly. I'd like to say yes, but we never know what the future holds." Natasha answers you with a soft tone of voice as she keeps her eyes on you. "But I'd like to give it a shot if that's what you're asking."

You grab Natasha's hand from your thigh and hold it. "I really hate my job." You say, making Natasha smile and laugh. "You're probably the only reason I haven't quit yet." Natasha couldn't believe her ears. "Little ole me?" She fans herself and puts on an adorable Southern accent, forcing you to laugh and roll your eyes. "Oh gosh, is this what I have to look forward to." You fall against the hood and windshield of the car. Natasha slaps your arm. "You like it."

You smirk. "I do."

Now it's Natasha's turn to roll her eyes as she lays beside you. "So you'll come with me?" She wants to ensure she won't leave tomorrow with a broken heart.

You nod. "Good thing I have my passport." Natasha chuckles and smiles warmly at you. "Have you ever been to Germany?" Natasha asks, but you shake your head. "Well, I guess I'll have to spoil you."

"I could get used to that." You then look at the car under the both of you. "Well, that and watching you drive."

Natasha leans forward, and just before she kisses you, she whispers: "Oh, you have no idea."

dividers by @/benkeibear

[shotmrmiller]

absolutely not a smoker but

imagine stepping out of that rowdy pub you tend to visit with your friends. The chilly evening air cooling your overheated skin.

The place can get a little too lively, sometimes you have to step out to take a breather. Or a smoke break, like in this instance.

Placing the lit cigarette in the corner of your mouth, you lean back against the brick wall of the establishment, feeling the cold seep through your jacket. Tipping your head back, you gaze at the night sky; shimmering specks of light scattered across the deep darkness, with the full moon gently illuminating the surroundings.

And then the pub doors squeal as they swing open, but you keep your eyes up and away.

Gravel crunches under the person's feet as they walk. Only for those footsteps to get closer to you.

God fucking damnit. You don't want to talk to anyone right now- your social battery is currently charging.

Exhaling softly, you close your eyes and open them as you turn to look at whoever is approaching and... the cigarette almost slips from your fingers from the fright.

A man that's a head taller than most, shoulders too broad, chest like a barrel. His thigh was the size of both of yours pressed together. He wore all black- the leather jacket creased around where the sleeves and where the elbow crooks. Well-worn but still in good condition.

But what almost sent your heart into failure was the skull balaclava mask he wore over his face.

Fucking hell, why is he staring at you like that?

Tapping the smoke with your pointer, you place it back in your mouth and pull the sides of your open jacket over your midsection, crossing your arms after.

"Can I help you?"

His response is immediate. "Bum a cig off ya?" he asks, a mancunian accent heavy on his tongue.

Shrugging to yourself, you shake the box and offer him the one, which he takes without even a thank you.

Ingrate.

"Got a match?"

Wordlessly, the lighter clicks once and a weak flame comes out of it. Only to get snuffed by the crisp breeze. Your thumb rotates the spark wheel once again, but this time you cup your hand around the pathetic little fire.

It holds long enough, so you watch him pull the mask up just enough to put the smoke in between his thin, chapped lips and lean forward to the lighter in your hands.

A warm puff of air extinguishes the flame.

His dark eyes cut to you- dark, nondescript. You flick the tip of your cigarette with your tongue in frustration.

Then his gaze wanders to the dim, orange glow on the other end. "Bum the light, then."

Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline but otherwise do as he says- rising to the tiptoes, and draw in a steady breath, the burning end flaring.

His face gets too close to what anyone would deem appropriate, getting a real good view of his unfairly long, wispy ash-brown lashes that framed his eyes.

The furl of smoke begins to rise, stinging your nose, and he finally straightens, the lit cigarette bouncing in his mouth.

The silence after is comfortable, just two complete and utter strangers having a smoke.

Tossing the filter to the ground, you step on it and crush it with your heel as exhale the remnants of it. A small wave his way and you head back inside.

If you'd paid any sort of attention, you would've noticed that the smoke that came out of his mouth was too thick, concentrated. As if it just sat there, instead of going through his lungs.

He gives it 3 more minutes before putting out his own, nearly full cig under his boot and following right behind you.

[ashwhowrites]

I just watched clips of megan fox in transformers. Pleasee can you write Eddie x older hot neighbour that he instantly smitten on from the first day she moved in. But he is embarrassed thinking it wasn't appropriate, so he always tiptoeing around. Wayne grown sick of eddie's antics and encourage him to properly pursue her. Eddie who is previously insecure of himself being inadequate for a mature woman, turns to be a great young father.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

The older woman

Eddie was minding his own as he worked on his cigarette. But his ears perked up as he heard the sound of a truck driving on the gravel. He watched as a woman stepped up, dressed for the hot heat in Hawkins. She wore a tank top, tight in the right places, and small jean shorts. Eddie felt the sun beaming down on him as his hairline began to sweat. He swallowed the dryness in his throat when she noticed him staring.

"Hi there, I'm Y/N, we must be neighbors." Her smile had Eddie's heart running. He threw his bud to the ground and wiped his hands down his sweat shorts.

"Eddie," He said as he shook her hand. He ignored the buzz of electricity he felt. She was even hotter up close. "Need any help?" he offered, his eyes trailing over to the amount of boxes that sat in the truck bed.

"That would be amazing."

Eddie spent two hours sweating next to her as they moved her boxes inside. He felt his shorts get tight whenever she bent over. He learned she was single, and he had no idea how. She was older, but Eddie didn't care. He was smitten by her on the first day.

~~~

"Those flowers seem to be coming in great," Eddie smiled, he came from Hellfire and saw Y/N out in her front garden. She was on her hands and knees as she pulled out the weeds. Sweat dripped down her neck, and Eddie tried not to stare.

"Seems like someone had a good eye for placement," she flirted, she sent him a wink. Eddie wasn't as stone-cold as he thought. She could tell the younger boy had a little crush on her, from how he blushed or played with his curls when she was around. She enjoyed making the boy nervous.

He stuttered out a thank you before he raced back into his trailer.

Wayne watched from the window with a smirk, he sipped on his coffee as Eddie practically ran in.

"Smooth," Wayne teased

"Shut up," Eddie groaned as he went into his room.

~

Sadly, Eddie didn't get any smoother, he looked like an idiot when he talked to her. He felt that his crush was inappropriate so he tried his best to be a friendly neighbor.

Y/N sat in her front yard, swimsuit on as she soaked in the sun. Eddie watched from the window, wishing he was on her lips instead of the cigarette she inhaled.

"That's creepy," Wayne said, scaring the world out of Eddie.

He jumped and acted like he was looking at something else. But it didn't matter, he was caught.

"Kid, just ask her out instead of staring like a stalker." Wayne sighed. "She moved in two months ago and all Eddie did was tip-toe his way around her.

"No way, she's older! She will probably laugh in my face if I ask her out." Eddie groaned, he shut the shade and looked over at Wayne.

"She wouldn't. I've met her and talked to her. She's very kind."

"You can't talk to her! What if she likes you" Eddie panicked

"Flattered, but she doesn't. But what about all the other guys she might meet in town? Really want to take the chance?"

Eddie thought of Wayne's advice and bit at his lip. He could take the shot, what is the worst that could happen?

"Fine." Eddie huffed and opened the door.

He took a deep breath as he walked over the small distance.

"Can I get a hit?" his voice reached her ears and she smiled. Her eyes shut as she simply held it out for him to take.

Eddie sat next to her tanning chair, liking the way she was at a higher ground. He could see her skin glistening with sweat as he grabbed the cigarette.

God knows he needed it

He inhaled it and let it calm his nerves. The tobacco on his tongue as he relaxed.

"You know windows work both ways, right?"

Eddie froze as she smirked and turned her head to look at him. She flipped up her sunglasses and took in his blushed face.

"Yeah..."

"I hope I gave a good show,"

Eddie was smitten by how much confidence she had, and how she knew he was tied around her finger.

"A ten out of ten review," Eddie joked, he smiled as she laughed.

"Wow, the boy does speak!" She cheered as she sat up, and swung her legs to the side. Her hot legs were inches away from Eddie as she leaned down and placed her arms on her knees.

Eddie didn't say anything as he inhaled another hit before he passed it back to her.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked, he looked up at her and squinted as the bright sun was above her head.

"Yeah, wanna go inside for a drink?" She offered, her eyebrow raised like she was hinting at something.

Eddie coughed but nodded.

She stood up, and Eddie whimpered as her whole body was now on display inches above him. He wanted to get on his knees and kiss every inch he could reach.

She held out her hand, he grabbed it and stood up. As they walked in, he looked back at the window. He rolled his eyes as Wayne stood watching. She was right, the window worked both ways.

"You old enough to drink, Eddie?" she asked as she grabbed two beers from her fridge

"Not that young, sweetheart," he said as he grabbed it from her hand, easily cracking open the top.

"Good," she said as she sipped her beer, "what did you want to ask?"

"Not many people pick to live here, were you running from something?" Eddie asked, he leaned his arms on the counter

"I left my ex-husband, and needed to be somewhere he wasn't." She shrugged, leaning on the counter, across from him.

"I'm glad he ran you here," Eddie admitted

"Yeah? How come?" she asked, leaning closer

Eddie licked his lips nervously as she was inches away from his face

"So I can...ask you out" Eddie confessed, his eyes flicked down to her lips

"Alright, let me hear you ask," her eyes flicked down to his lips

"Can I take you out to dinner? Tonight?" his eyes back on hers, "on a date"

"Yes you can," she smiled, her lips inches from his but she pulled away. She laughed as Eddie didn't care to hide his disappointment.

~

Eddie sat across from her as she sipped her wine. He took the time to admire how breathtaking she looked in the restaurant lights. The low glow smoothed her skin.

"What are you staring at?" she asked as she set down her glass

"You," Eddie said, a small smile on his face as he leaned back in his chair

"You do that a lot, huh?" she turned her head to the side with a smile

"Can you blame me? I never want to look away."

Y/N felt butterflies in her stomach. She didn't know if feeling so beautiful because of a younger guy was a good thing. It was frowned upon, but she didn't care. The heat in his eyes was what she had been searching for in her marriage.

"Smooth talker," she said

"Dirty lover," Eddie replied, a smirk on his face

"Are you trying to get in my bed, Eddie?" she asked her chin on her hand as she looked at him through her lashes

"I hope so," he laughed as he leaned forward, "but I'm trying to win you over."

"You'll score," she said with a wink

~

Eddie drove them back to the trailer park, his hand on her thigh as he hummed along to the music

"Want to come in?" Y/N asked as Eddie walked her to her front door

"Course," Eddie smiled, a silent cheer in his head as he followed her in

They settled on the couch and played a random movie. They talked through two movies, getting closer. Her body was practically on top of his as their words became whispers.

"I don't think at my age I'm supposed to feel like a teenage girl," Y/N said, her face inches away from his.

"I was worried I wouldn't be mature enough for you, so if you want to be a teenager, that'll make it easier for me" Eddie chuckled, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. His fingers softly trailed up and down her skin.

"Don't worry about being anything but yourself for me. Because I happen to really like the boy next store," she said with a wink, "plus," she whispered, moving onto his lap. "I like having you in the palm of my hand."

Eddie shivered underneath her body, itching his lips closer to hers.

"You want to kiss me?" she whispered, moving her arms to wrap around his neck

"Yes, please" he breathed out as he licked his lips

She didn't say anything, just placed her lips on his. Eddie put his palms against her back as he pushed her body against his. He wanted to inhale every part of her.

He whimpered as he felt her tongue slip inside his mouth

He might have to thank Wayne for this later

Tags!

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[queenimmadolla]

Could you do a blurb where reader rolls a joint for Eddie for the first time with all her cute papers and stuff and he loves it?

Happy Stoner Christmas!

happy 4/20! 😶‍🌫️💚

“Well, if it isn’t for my favorite customer.”

  You hear him before you see him, and sit up straighter as you look up, torso twisting around to face Eddie.

  He’s walking through the tree line that acts as the ‘fence’ to your backyard. Not exactly born into wealth, your home is on the edge of Hawkins and lacks the white picket fence and concrete driveway, with nature and gravel filling in. Just down the street is Jonathan Byers’ home. 

  Confidence radiates off of Eddie as he approaches the picnic bench you were waiting on, his curls sway a little. He’s rocking a band shirt today—long sleeves rolled up his forearms—and some dark jeans. You try not to squirm under his stare, the wild grin on his face stirring something in your tummy.

  You knew you’d end up crushing on him after the first time you went to him for weed instead of Rick. He was cute. 

  Eddie was so freaking cute and charming and funny. You probably would have been fine if he had just been cute and charming, but the humorous trait was your weakness. You loved funny guys.

  Sure enough, by the fourth time he dealt to you—his tongue was in your mouth. And the fifth time, you’d gone to third base. Now, whatever happened when he came around just happened. You accepted it, even if it makes you a little nervous because you know very well you’re interested in more than just the benefits that come with your encounters. 

  You want him. Like, boyfriend him. It’s kind of tragic, actually, because you don’t even know if you’re the only one of his clientele he treats this way. Eddie can be fucking the rest of them for all you know and it drives you insane because you want to ask—you’re just too chicken shit.

  “You say that as if this wasn’t prearranged.” You laugh out and Eddie snorts, dumping his black lunch pail on the leaf riddled bench top next to your scooby-doo lunch box with a metal clang.

  “I’m trying to be cute and you’re ruining it.” When you laugh again, Eddie’s eyes squint in triumph, “And I’ll have you know I have been waiting—no, yearning for you to call upon me. Moved my bed over to the phone and everything. Thought you forgot allllllll about me.”

  “Me forget about you? Impossible.” You declare in a joking manner, though you truly mean the sentiment. Your mental health might be better if you could forget him. Then you wouldn’t be able to make yourself sick over the idea of him kissing other people.

  “You better mean that.” He jabs an accusatory finger, silver ring glinting, in your direction as he settles in across from you, “The usual, my sweet?”

  UGH! SEE?! Too damn cute.

  “Please?” You’re too busy opening up your own lunch box full of supplies to notice the heated look he fixes you with right then.

  Eddie clears his throat, tongue darting out to swipe over his lower lip as he pops the lid of his lunch pail open, pulling out a little baggie with your favorite strain of buds. He eyes it with a glint in his eye before it’s held out to you, dangling from his fingertips. 

  You look up once you realize it’s being offered, and pinch the top of the baggie as your other hand holds out the folded bills. Eddie flicks them out of your loose grip, and it goes flying to land in your lap while you jump in surprise.

  “My bad,” he snickers, his pretty teeth gleaming, “it’s on the house.”

  You pick up exactly where he wants you to, “In that case, please accept my offer to smoke you out with my newly acquired goods.”

  That feeling in your belly—butterflies—intensifies at the slow and large smile that spreads on his face, forcing his little dimple to make an appearance.

  It always goes like this now. 

  Eddie comes over (or you go to him), weed is exchanged and when you try to pay him for it, he refuses. Then, you invite him to smoke weed with you (and he’ll always pull from the extra inventory he carries around—never from what he’s just given you), the two of you get high and you finally feel brave enough to make a move because you know he always waits for you to do it. Gives you the power to start things, your own comfort, though he takes full control once you get going. He’s always so keen on taking care of you. You’d once thought that maybe he didn’t want you as much as you wanted him, since it was always you initiating things, but the way he’d beg for you, ramble about how much he wanted you, how desperate he was for you and his ‘finally, I thought I was gonna die’s on just your kisses alone, soothed that insecurity. 

  “I’d be delighted to! But─”

  “Nope.” You interrupt, having seen his hand reaching into his pail. “My weed—not yours.”

  He raises his eyebrows in surprise and when you don’t back down, both of his hands are lifted in surrender before one is extended to you out on the bench, palm up. Eddie’s waiting for you to give him your grinder and the weed so he can start rolling but you low five his palm instead and he chuckles, skin tingling from the contact.

  “That’s not exactly what I meant.”

  “I know, but I’m also rolling today, too.”

  Eddie scoffs and smirks, fixing you with that heated stare again and you quickly divert your gaze, pulling out your pretty purple grinder and getting to work. You are not gonna let him make you nervous and fumble around, “Baby…”

  Oh, god. The way he coos it out, nice and low—you’re instantly taken back to other times you’d heard him say it like that. You’d been bent into all kinds of positions as it was rasped into your ear, the sweat from both of your bodies plastering Eddie to you. Your hand twists the top of the grinder on autopilot as you stare at nothing, gaze vacant.

  Eddie knows exactly where your mind has taken you and his smirk widens.

  “You can’t roll for shit.”

  That snaps you out of your stupor, mouth dropping.

  “I can, too! You’ve never seen me put in the work.”

  “I have, that’s why I roll.”

  And you cringe as you recall the first time you’d try to roll a joint. It had been the second time Eddie sold to you, having only used pre-rolled cones prior. Those only meant you had to pack the wrap in with weed, kind of like a funnel and then twist the end closed before partaking.

  Rolling from start to finish was a whole other endeavor and you’d failed so badly, Eddie had rolled around on the floor laughing. You didn’t take any offense, too busy jumping up and down inside at having made the cute, charming funny guy you liked laugh.

  “I’ve been practicing,” You pout, placing the grinder down after you’re sure the nug of the bud you’d placed in it was now almost powder-like.

  “You tryna impress me, hm?” He hums out, and you refuse to look up, knowing those pretty brown eyes of his are gonna be lidded and it’ll do you in early. You’ll have to jump him right there, “Been practicing to show me what you can do?”

  You ignore him, focusing instead on the rolling papers you had. 

  Eddie places his chin in his hand, watching you intently as you frown in concentration before it breaks when you select a rolling paper, cherries decorating the white sheets. You pull your small rolling tray out and some part of Eddie throbs. You hadn’t had that before.

  You quickly scrunch a filter together, folding the rolling paper and placing the filter at the edge of the fold before you unscrew the grinder and begin pinching the green within to sprinkle on the paper. Once it was full, and Eddie notices with wide eyes that you’ve packed it with a significant amount, you use dexterous fingers to carefully roll it together, tongue poking out as you take diligent care to ensure no fall out. Once the green flower is properly contained, you lick the free edge and fold it over the rest of the joint before you pinch and twist the end.

  After a few moments of intense scrutiny, you hold it out victoriously, “Taduh!!! For you.”

  Eddie takes the joint, turning it this way and that as he marvels. You really had been practicing, it was beautiful. He feels an intense amount of pride bloom in his chest and something else. Always for you, only ever for you.

  “Did I do good?” You ask, voice shy as you bite your lip and this time you don’t look away when that heavy stare focuses on you. You wanna faint, but you don’t. He doesn’t say anything for a while and you know where tonight is gonna lead. 

  “Baby,” There’s that rasp again that makes you want to drop dead and smash your mouth to his at the same time, “I’m gonna need you to come over here now. Don’t think I can wait.”

[v1x3n]

⸝⸝ ꒰ BROTHERS BESTFRIEND ⁞ ˎˊ˗

simon 'ghost' riley ⸝⸝ navigation

୨୧ 𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴 : hes your brothers best friend and a friend you've known since the three of you were children, you could class him as family. so the place he chose when he needed somewhere to stay was of course your place.

୨୧ 𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 : angst, fluff, smut - longtime crush, regret, dry humping, praise, degrading words, cumming inside.

You were 10 when your brother, Jack, invited his best friend over. He was 13. It just so happened that every other day he would come over, hang out with your brother and talk a little with you. Soon you began to gain a little crush on him, but he was your brother's best friend - ofc you couldn't do anything. Plus he was older than you, at the time even 3 years apart seemed like a million. Maybe when you're older?

Growing up with your brother and his best friend constantly around you, causing Simon to be classed as ‘family’. So when he needed a place to stay after a 3 month mission, your family let him in instantly. Meaning he would live with you until his next mission - hopefully he wouldn't be as annoying as he was when he was younger. You hadn't seen him for maybe a few years after he joined the military - 3 years at least. At least your brother and him still talked so there was some sort of contact.

Knock knock knock

The door. Without thinking you stand yourself up and head to the door. You knew it was Simon and you wanted to greet him kindly. Perhaps he was still fit - ofc you would wanna be nice looking and get dressed up all cute for your old crush, definitely if he was fit. Almost sprinting to the door whilst sorting out your outfit, trying to make yourself look more presentable. Just so he doesn't think you're a scruff or anything of the sort.

"Hi!" cheerily greeting him as you fling open the door.

He retorted with a small nod and a grunt - as if he was telling you hello back. Swiftly shuffling out of the way to let him through, you couldn't help but feel like he was avoiding you. You watched him walk away, a puzzled look plastered on your face.

Entering the kitchen - leading the once known man along with you. "Tea?" murmuring trying to get away from this very awkward situation. Simon gives a slight nod, still not spilling words from his mouth. An uncomfortable atmosphere fills the space around you as you make his tea, grabbing one of your brothers' mugs, pouring the heated water into the cup. "Your brother around?" he hums, finally speaking up. A quick shake of the head comes from your person as he looks over at you mixing his tea bag into the water. One fast, clean swoop - passing the mug over to Simon as he looks into it, almost checking if it's good enough then he nods at it. “At work.”

Taking a small taste test of it as you lean against the counter, glaring into his eyes as he sips on the tea you had made for him. He smiles at you, a warm but slight one, before taking another sip of his tea. Gazing into his eyes and finally checking him out, head to toe.

You could tell he had just come from battle, war, revenge, just by how he was dressed. Grey sweater with his camo army pants, his vest and his big puffy black boots. Stained in blood, mud and gravel. A haze of red rushes to your cheeks as he speaks up. "like what you see or what?" grumbling with an obvious grin smelted onto his lips, under his Black, skull printed balaclava whilst he catches onto your eyes peeking at his body - lingering for more than his liking. "Oh sorry. i..i was just uh." trembling through your words as you search for an excuse.

"I was just joking, god you haven't changed a bit" he slightly laughed, your face burning through with embarrassment.

"Say yourself, you're still the cold, sarcastic little shit you were years ago." retorting back at him as you start to giggle as well. Simon stops himself from laughing more whilst holding the mug, making sure he won't drop it. "Well," he chuckles. "But at least I don't get all nervous and blush from silly, small things." Your two's banter had gone on for years, since you had met. That's probably the main reason you're so close - and the reason you fell for him whilst you were a dumb child. You both share a knowing look, and then start laughing again.

"Heard you're a lieutenant now?" you question, full well knowing the answer because your brother had told you. He gives a miniscule nod, still sipping on the tea that was almost empty now. A small smile on your face burned from the joke fight a minute ago.

Simon was never a talker. Yeah, he would piss around a bit, but still not much speaking. He would whip up some snide or mocking response in a flash if he wanted to - but most of the time he wouldn't bother. You knew Simon and you knew what he was like. So seeing him this quiet was normal - even though you were used to having a mad, loud life. Simon would only really banter with close mates, mates he had been with for a long time. It wasn't a surprise he was like this with you then, you know years of pissing each other off to mockery to small lil crushes almost made you more than just a mate he had known for a very long time.

You take a deep breath and continue with the conversation. "Anyways," biting your lip subtly while stretching and standing back up - grasping his cup away from him. The once filled mug was now just cold leftovers from the tea - pushing it from the counter and into the sink, ready to wash later. "I'll go show you your room, yeah?" without even waiting for a reply you scatter off down the hall. Eagerly following you down, up the stairs then back down another overly long corridor: then there it was, Simon's new room.

The room was plain, with a few pictures on the wall, a nice king-sized bed with soft, plush bedding. A small desk with a few documents scattered on the top of it, across was a wardrobe - filled with some guest clothes, PJs, towels and a robe. Stuff like that. There were some shirts he had guessed you had bought specially for him - seeing the size of them.

Not like he was fat or anything but you cannot say Simon wasn't a big guy - he was excessively muscular and quite tall. Tall enough that you had to almost strain your neck to look up at him properly.

"Here," you added, passing him a towel that you had picked up from the bed.

A quick glance gets chucked at you and he greatly accepts it into his arms, "bathrooms just next door and clothes are in the wardrobe."

"I stink that much?" He already snickers, removing his jacket from his person as he does so. You scoff. Almost instinctive too.

"you're alright, just don't want you going around spreading blood and dirt round the house. i don't think my parents would like that." He rolls his eyes and smirks at you. "Yeah, yeah." He steps out of the bedroom leaving his filthy jacket behind. "Your brother told me your parents are away for a bit?"

Your parents had left for some work thing for a few months - leaving you and your brother at home alone. At least now Simons is here you could have some more fun.

"gone for the next two months." you reply from his bedroom, chatting while he turns the shower on. You neatly fold up his dirty jacket and take a slight huff.

Around an hour goes by, lying down in your bedroom - scrolling endlessly through your phone as Simon stays in the shower. Thuds. Loud foot-slamming thuds blast from the bathroom. Pull yourself up and out of bed to check on Simon just to see him with just a towel on his bare body, the towel slowly descending down his hips. Peeking down at his pelvis as crimson rushes to your eyes, you swiftly glance back up to see his smug face gazing down at you.

"You good?" the man before you pondered, staring down at you as your eyes hovered around his damp body.

"Yeh, fine." you mumble, averting your eyes. "Jacks not back until late tonight, works keepin him behind so I'll just order someit" you added, your voice barely audible.

He nods, swiftly and heavily - great you were stuck with him for a few more hours seeing as your brother was busy. Sighing when you move away from him, back to your room to order some food. You couldn't get the image of Simon out of your head. His naked person, water dripping from his hair. His chiselled and smooth face. Plump lips that would just be great to kiss. Bet he would be a sloppy kisser, especially when drunk. God can imagine. With his glistening brown eyes that had seen more things than anyone could ever think of, you could tell his story, his life through his pupils. You loved his soft, flowy hair - it was the perfect length that showed off his sharp but still soft jawline. Dirty blonde colour that you would actually just die for. It just suits his fine hairstyle.

Let's not even talk about his body. Shit his sexy ass body. His perfect waist. God he looked slutty. You could see the outline of his cock through the towel. Aaaa. Thinking about it makes you wet. The towel was slanted so you could see his nice hips. It felt for your eyes only, as if he had done it for you. His muscles are just flawless - not too chiselled so it's not rock solid, but not too soft so there's still an outline. His alluring pecs, they looked as soft as a marshmallow. You need to get your hands on them instantly. knead them, give them seductive, black and dark purple bruises, lick his pretty ass nipples. Maybe you shouldn't be thinking about this.

Fuck did you still like him? Pack it in honestly! He's your brother's best friend, plus it wouldn't be like Simon was attracted to you. You weren't his type. Now that you think of it you don't recall Simon ever mentioning a girlfriend or crush or anything of the type. Has he ever had a girlfriend? I mean there's nothing to disapprove of when it comes to him. He was sweet when needed, sarcastic, funny, hot, fit, cute, cold. However, you don't mean a mean cold. You mean a sexy, mysterious, snarky, controlling cold. If he wanted you too, you would bend over for him and let him take control - do whatever he wanted. That's just the type of person you wanted and it was lucky you had someone who seemed like that type naked right now in your house. Fuckkkkkk. Were you starting to recatch feelings again? Maybe you're just needy and need to get laid.

With an irruption the thoughts hault as you hear Simon, “is there eh.. anything I could do? Chores or whatever?” he asks with a certain nervousness in his voice. You didn't quite catch exactly what he said with your head half still in the clouds.

“what? No no. "you're a guest it's not your place” sweetly laughing at his ridiculous ask. A subtle ‘oh’ sound pours from his lips. You stare up at him - making quite uncomfortable eye contact with him as he sighs in and out and walks towards the living room. “You sure? I wouldn't mind.” His rough accent formed out through his lush words. It was hard to tell whether you thought he was cute or not.

"Oi" you warm him when you see him picking up some rubbish and putting it into the bin, pointing your finger at him as if to tell him off while following him into the living room. As you see him sitting on the couch you continue, "shut it, it's fine.” sighing softly when you sit beside him.

Soon you two began to talk a little - carrying on your banter from before as a shitty TV show sounds in front of you. Throwing harmless insults side to side to each other as it starts to get more physical - jokingly hitting each other, pushing and messing with each other's hair and now this… Simon was chuckling and pushing you over onto the cushions to then tower over you - pinning you to the couch. "Hey!" you howl as he grips onto your arms to keep you down. Grimacing as he snickers above you, almost mocking your tiny body with his. He lingers there for way too long, staring down into your eyes - his contact deciding whether to look into your eyes or those distracting lips of yours. Then he chooses; his glaze loiters over your cherry lips as he leans more into you. The sensation of his scent fills your nose as he gets closer, blocking the space that divides you two. "S-simon?" whispering your answer to him while he gets way too into your space.

That was enough of a sign for him to make his move. And before you can resist, He closes the gap between you, his lips find yours, claiming them in a passionate kiss. It feels surreal and wrong, but part of you can't help but be swept up in the moment. The moment felt electric as your tongues met in a sensual way. Your heart is beating faster and faster. You can feel your body melt into his, all traces of thought and logic vanishing amidst the heat of the moment.

He grabs onto the side of your waist and calmly smooths it out as he increases his kiss, stopping every few 30 seconds to breathe. "Wait!" you burst out and push him away from you. He breathes heavily - catching his breath as you scoot yourself to the end of the couch. Swiftly picking yourself up and exiting the room that now forever holds that memory. Simon was left confused and dazed. You were sloppily kissing him one second then you had just picked yourself up and left him; not saying anything about it.

Emotions of confusion to lust to anger to sadness flood your mind as you figure out what the fuck had happened. I mean it wasn't like you didn't like him but you liked the kiss. But that's normal right? Liking the kiss? It didn't mean you liked him. You had told yourself for years so you had told yourself again: you cannot like him. He's your brother's BEST mate. There's no way your brother wouldn't stab you if he found out you were even thinking about Simon like this. Making your way to the bathroom floor - the slick cool floor so you can just slide onto and rethink your entire life. You sit there with your head in your hands, trying to make sense of the feelings you were feeling. Sighing as you fight with your inner self.

It wasn't like you hadn't kissed before though. It was after parties a lot- both of you were hammered and in each other's company and then it would just kinda happen. The warmth of his lips were always on your mind, after the amount of times you two had kissed it was almost like his plump lips were imprinted onto yours. You could draw them with your eyes closed almost. "This is wrong," you whisper to yourself, "this is wrong." But it felt so right. The feeling of Simon's lips on yours, the way his body pressed up against yours like a perfect fit, and the way he looked at you with those irresistible deep brown eyes.

“y/n?” a rough voice sounded from the room behind the bathroom door, scared to even answer at the act you had just pulled.

“‘M sorry si.” whispering so he can just barely hear you.

He then pops open the door to see you were on the floor and hiding yourself from the world almost. "Love? You got all upset?" isn't wasn't really a question - more of a statement.

You had kissed him and then left him. Maybe you should at least give him an explanation?

“It's- it's just I can't…

Your Jack's best friend man, and- and it's wrong. You're one of my mates for fuck's sake.” Whimpering kinda through your words, looking up at him with your nearly pricked eyes.

“Maybe we should yk… not do this.” Your words slip out as you regret the thoughts spewing out of you.

Without another word, you two had lived out the rest of the day in silence - not talking about the situation nor anything in general. It was weird, almost eerie how quiet the house was. Faint blasts of media when either of you switched on a TV or your phones but other than that no sound came from your mouths. Jack still hasn't come home, god his shifts were ages.

It was awkward- too fucking awkward. You two had sat down on the couch, put on some TV show you both enjoyed and ate your takeaway. All you wanted was a big fat burger more than anything and maybe to unsay everything that happened a few hours ago. It was a fucking mistake to kiss him then.

“Simon” a small voice creeps out of your mouth, barely audible. His head swings in your direction, so fast he could actually break his neck. God it was too embarrassing to bring up before, “your food alright?” fuck why the shit did you say that?

“Yeh. Fine." Fuck, you were fucked. Holy shit. The air was dead silent, it was pure threatening. You knew you had upset him. He didn't show his emotions tons but you knew you had. You almost felt like you were in the eye of the storm. Not a word is spoken and the air is thick with tension.“Good, good” your tone progressively gets quieter the more you talk. "Listen" words get cut off by the blast of the door opening. The sounds of stomping follow through the hall and into the living room.

“Oh Simon!" Jack almost squeals out.

Simon looks at Jack with his heart pounding in his throat. Jack looks back and smiles, seemingly unaware of the tension in the room. He ruffles Simon's hair and grabs the extra bags from the takeaway, snacking on them as he settles down in his chair. The air is thick and unbearable. You try to act calm and casual, but your nerves are getting the best of him. Your leg is bouncing off the floor like crazy, bounce bounce bounce - over and over until Simon lays his hand on your knee. “Pack that in."

“Ooooo, Simon!" Jack laughs as he smirks at you two, “you better not be touching up my sister.” He chuckles once more, as if he didn't know the obvious sexual tension in the room as his hand touched you. You wanted his hands to touch elsewhere but you had fucked up. The pooling puddle of guilt only increasing with time just made it worse, the little voice in your head chanting ‘simon, simon, simon’. JUST SHUT UP!

“I wouldn't go anywhere near her '' Simon laughed it off as if he wasn't on you a few hours ago. You feel your heart sink and a wave of embarrassment wash over you. You try to force a smile but your face feels numb. You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart and ease the tension in the room. You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. You force yourself to make eye contact, hoping you look confident and composed. You take a deep breath and attempt to speak up. "oi twat," you speak to Jack while pushing Simons hand that was still on your knee away, "work alr'ght?"

"what yous been up too?" jack smiles over at you.

"Oh uhm," a blush spreads across your cheeks when you remember the kiss you and Simon had shared on this same couch a few hours ago. "Just watching uh tv" you smile to try to make yourself seem less suspicious. “Oh well, I'm goin’ to bed” Jack states and then moves away from the living room to his bedroom. Leaving you and him alone once again.

“You didn't need to lie." His eyebrows knit softly, and he looked at you in a way that indicated there was more on his mind.

“Way what else was I meant to say? That we made out on the sofa, his best friend and his sister, then i ran off cause im too much of a fucking pussy because the person i like finally kissed me and i was scared?!”

He sighs out loud, then shakes his head in his hands, “you like me?” Simon's breath hitched in his chest. He didn't hide the colour that crept into his cheeks, his eyes searching for yours as he breathed in and out - trying to process everything. As his eyes looked at yours, yours were glued shut. Trying to block everything out.

“N-no.. I- it just came out. I didn't mean like- like that." Your body stiffened. His nostrils flared as he took an uneasy breath, his expression turning sour. He cleared his throat once and took a slow breath. "Good." Simon muttered. His voice was cold as he looked away.

“Good? Why's that good?” Your scoff becomes almost deadly when you hear his mumbles that he obviously didn't intend on you hearing.

He glares at you, knives being thrown at you through his firing pupils. “Wouldn't wan’ get into that” simple but saddening answer. Your eyes mould shut and you sigh at him.

“Whatever” you set yourself up and start to step off, away from the scene - once again. "Fine, pussy off again" He's trying not to show how pissed off he is, but it bleeds through every syllable.

“What the fuck?” Your eyes squinted as if you were trying to see him. Stomping towards him, your footsteps create thunder and lightning with every step forward. Getting himself up and then backs up and glares at you with that dead expression he had only used on the pricks he met. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Why are you leaving again?”

Letting out a harsh sigh as a response, you stop in front of him as if defeated.

“Cause we fucking kissed!” you shout at him, pushing him from his chest but he doesn't budge, the tears calmly falling from your tear ducts, calmly despite how fucking angry you are, “and maybe i like you but im just some fucking toy for you!” your voice quieting while the tears cloud your mouth. The salt seasoned your tongue. Simon groans. "It's complicated love.” His voice has taken on that husky tone that sends wet heat straight to your core even though all you wanted to do was fucking kill him right now. "You are not a toy to me, your- it's-''

“It's fine Simon, I understand."Mumbling and whispering your answers.

“No you don't. Even I don't even fucking understand. You're amazing but I'd fucken ruin you doll. ‘M not right for you. Love, you need to move on.” He said, sputtering, like he didn't want this to happen. You could sense a hint of sorrow hidden in his eyes.

“I DON'T WANNA. I WANT YOU!” finally shouting at him, to knock it into his head. Not caring if your brother hears your desperate words anymore. You could see him fighting against anger. He was trying hard to control his anger in order to respond calmly. In the end, he couldn't hold back and barked at you. “Love. Fucks sake” he cursed under his breath, the words wrought with exasperation and longing.

The details melted from your brain, like you fought and now you two were on the couch - the place you two had been earlier that day, kissing once again. You positioned yourself atop him, feeling his hands curve around your waist as his grip intensified. Your body pressed firmly against him, enhancing the closeness of the intimate embrace. The kiss was deep - almost smothering you with his lips. The groans that fall from his mouth to yours echo through you both could make your little cunt throb. But instead of your cunt throbbing, his cock does instead. The tight tent growing under you, the sensation pushing up against your pussy, the gentle, sweet moans that drip from your lips only create an even smaller free space in his boxers.

He presses his lips to yours after slipping his tongue out of your mouth, a small peck on your lips and then releases you. Simon's heavy breathing mixed with his blush filled face made your wet spot glow. “This - is this alright?" you nervously whispered into his ear to check up on him. Simon pulled back so you two were not in each other's face to catch his breath before leaning back in and kissing you more. It’s deep and passionate, a lot of feelings built up inside him for you, and it was all being unleashed through his actions and kisses. The length underneath you being unable to leave your head, your mind running with lewd thoughts. As if you were sleepwalking or something but as soon as you thought about riding his girthy, thick, hard length it was almost magically your cunt started dragging against his size, humping his pathetically rock hard cock.

The kissing stops as he lets out a short whimper before pulling you back in for a rough kiss, almost eating your face off. Like he needed you so fucking badly, like he had wanted this for hundreds of years. Like a hungry lion when meeting any piece of meat near. Dangerously gripping onto your hips and helping you through your grinding. He knew it would be pathetic if he came from this, no actual contact- it was just you humping his hard on through layers of clothes but he was close. The heat from both your bodies combined with your passionate, deadly kissing and then on top of that the grinding, it's all intoxicating to him.

As your breaths synchronise and the space in between you grows as he leans back against the couch, letting you do whatever - surrendering to your touch.

His head gets launched back and a groan falls from his mouth when you grind faster as your hands trail up your body and lift the fabric over your head. The shirt drops to the floor as he aws at your chest, the plump skin that flows above your pretty yet basic bra. “So fucken pretty" he groans into your breasts and kisses the fat.

His hands comfortably lay on your thighs, squeezing the fat and gleaming his smile up at you. His mind is hypnotized by your perfect body, the way your body curves at the right place, soft skin and fuck your sensitive spots. Could almost finish with the way you moan when he grabs onto a sensitive spot. His gaze lingered on your figure. The only thing that snapped him back was when your voice reached his ears. "This okay si?”

“More than okay darling.” He smiles sweetly up at you, "You okay with more?”

Swiftly you nod at him, ready to take anything. Within a second he took off his shirt, his hand still around your waist so you don't fall with his movements. His shirt fell down to the floor, exposing his bare chest that you had seen so many times before but… today was different. He then pulls your body up and places you on the other side of the couch.

As your eyes follow his chest he unzips his pants, his rough voice sounding through your ears. “Pants off.” He commands you to do as asked - and you follow through. Scrambling to tug off your pants and then your panties, your cunt gets a hit of the breeze to it. He gazes at your bare form, no pants, no panties and no shirt. Only a bra yet to be ripped off. He groans at the sight of you. As you look back towards him you see him getting out his cock, the length bouncing out. You were a little scared to touch, after the events from before you weren't sure what was okay now…

“Come ‘ere love” Simon's voice mixed between his rough voice and one that's trying to be as loving as possible. Following his commands brings you to be sitting on his lower stomach, he was laid down with his hands rubbing up your hips. Murmuring sweet, soft things to slowly melt your brain.

“So so pretty dove” he hums to himself and smiles, meeting your gaze with his own.

Without asking you had enough, enough of the build up, enough of practically edging since the shower scene, enough of not being filled with his cock! Pulling your hands to his chest and lifting yourself, making sure to be careful and not hurt him. He questions, “what are you up to love?" not angry, just curious. No reply came but a soft whine while you sink yourself onto his cock, feeling him fill you up. Hovering just above, not taking the full thing. His groan just makes you a little more scared, well not scared just you wanted to take this slow. It's your first time with him, Simon Riley - the man you had a crush on for years maybe, and you didn't wanna drop down onto his big cock and cum instantly. That would be so fucking pathetic. But then again you feel the knot ripping already by just seeing his face making those sounds and his cock being slightly in you.

Simon's hands wrap around your waist, gripping his fingernails into you - small curved cresents buried into your skin. A groan growls from you, then when he lifts you up, and plops you all the easy down onto his cock, a loud gasp follows. Spearing your cunt. “S-si!” you loudly moan out. Your cunt squishes his cock, his groans only make the heat maximise. Eyes roll back when his strength lifts you back up and spears you onto his length once more. After a while of the same movement you were basically a flop. Just his fleshlight.

“Fuck princess!” Simon whines when he stops force impaling you, then you start bouncing up and down. Your tits bounce along with your movements, creating a hypnotising target for him. Up and down, following every jump you make. Your walls tighten around his cock. The wetness from you running down his cock, creating almost a fountain from your moistness. “Keep going doll” groans drop from his lips as his orgasm nears, your wet cunt engulfing his dick. Your cunt is filled with his cock. Honestly if he were to come, you'd just burst. You thrust yourself up and back down. His groans and your moans create one big potion. A potion that would surely have you, Simon and your brother all sitting down at the dinner table tomorrow talking about what the fuck was going on.

Your guilt gets closed off when Simon's voice whispers out, “‘m close!” fusion between being quiet and being loud. Bouncing faster, more mewls fall out of you. Being ping-ponged onto his cock just felt so fucking good. “Me too” barely formed your words, too busy with the pleasurable activity.

“Your body's so fuckin’-” his groan slices through the sentence, “so fucking perfect, fucken made to take my cock. Werent you? Cute little slut all f’ me” His blabbers between his shut teeth came out louder than he wanted. He was very clearly trying to last as long as possible and not cum. Your bounces fasten up when your high glows closer and closer, so desperate for a release and his release. His length hits all the right fucking angles.

“Let me cum inside you.. Please please please" His plea filled the living room, so eager to fill you up. With your mind elsewhere and letting your slutty body take control you let him. His grip onto your waist tightens, forcing your movements to grow. His cock feels every wet spot inside you, the pressure building up. He moans out, his grip tightening as he thrusts up into you. His rhythm increases, you feel yourself getting closer and closer, your body trembling and your mind spinning. The small sweet faces you make, your eyes rolling back into your currently empty brain. Soon his warm, salty cum fills you up, spurting down from your pussy. Your orgasm soon follows after, both your cum mixing together - creating one big sticky mess. A mess that surely you'd regret in about 10 hours. His eyes almost fell back with his head, leaning back against the sofa.

He slowly pulls out of you, a small trail of cum following behind him. Taking a deep breath and a big stretch. You feel a rush of pleasure course through your body as he leans in and plants a soft kiss on your forehead. Your eyes are glued closed, savouring the moment. His lips linger on your skin, and you can feel the electricity in the air. You take a deep breath and open your eyes, looking into his addictive eyes as you smile weakly at him.

Perhaps you were right to fuck him and it was for the best. You finally shagged him and the faux images didn't have to be in your head anymore - you finally put an end to those fantasies. Now for all the consequences for shagging him. Simon Riley. Your brothers' best mate.

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[talesofesther]

wildflowers

Astarion Ancunin x Reader

Summary: Astarion has shared a lot of firsts with you already, and you just so decided to add one more to the list.

A/N: A little something special for valentine's day. <3

Masterlist

You'd grown up around flowers.

With your mother being a druid, it was only natural that wherever you went, nature followed. Even in your family's estate back in the city, the walls were adorned with all kinds of colorful plants and vines, the air feeling all the more pure inside your lungs and the green leaves being a sight for any sore eyes.

You'd spend hours in the garden, tending to the seedlings and speaking more with the flora than you did with people.

That's why, after the nautiloid's crash and as you walked through unknown lands, you found some semblance of comfort in all the wildflowers adorning your mysterious path.

You hummed a song under your breath as your boots crushed the gravel underneath, feet a little sore with all the walking you'd done today, but you needed to reach the shadow-cursed lands as soon as possible; how much time you had left remained uncertain.

Shadowheart had already started complaining about the rough terrain too, and with the sun starting to set on the mountainous horizon, you figured you could set up camp soon.

"I'm not offering any rides, if that's what you're thinking."

You caught the end of the cleric's conversation with Astarion, and at his quip, you changed a glance in his direction.

He caught your gaze, lips quirking in a small smirk as he gave you a wink that got you avoiding his stare again when you felt warmth coming to your cheeks.

You'd grown fond of the pale elf, it's true. But part of you thinks he's grown fond of you, too. At first, his smiles at you were sharp as a dagger or overly seductive, yet lately, there's been a softer edge to them.

Blinking at the golden sunlight in your eyes, you started scouting the area for a good place to rest, and that's when you caught sight of a patch of white on the ground. Leaving your companions to discuss amongst themselves whether it was late enough to camp or not, you walked up to it.

There, on the edge of a set of bushes and trees, stood a small bundle of star-shaped white flowers, their six petals delicate and thin; the bright white stood out amidst the deep browns and greens.

You reached down to run a gentle finger over one petal. And as you plucked a single flower from the bunch, you couldn't help but think of him.

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Bags were being dropped onto the ground with a few tired groans escaping your companions. You'd found a decent enough place, tucked in between old ruins and overlooking a breathtaking view of the nearly set sun.

You gave a sympathetic smile to Karlach as you passed by her tent, watching with a fond glint in your eyes as your fiery friend ruffled the fur of her teddy bear. Such a softy at heart.

Astarion had his nose buried in a book, and that's where you were headed. Whenever he concentrated on his reading, he'd furrow his brows ever so slightly; sometimes he'd play with his fangs, running his tongue over them and biting his lower lip. It was endearing, you wondered if he knew he did it.

You approached him, heart in your mouth and white flower held in between your fingers. The last of the golden rays were kissing his skin, he looked ethereal.

"Hey," you spoke lowly, the moment seemed to call for it.

The elf perked up at your voice, a smile instantly painting his face as he closed his book to settle his attention on you. "Hello darling, what can I do for you?"

You shook your head briefly, "Nothing, I just came to give you this." You raised the single flower with a timid tilt of your lips, hesitating on your next words, "It… reminded me of you."

Astarion looked at you as if you'd just asked his hand in marriage. He kept quiet, eyes way too wide and jaw way too tense for such a simple moment. You wondered if you'd somehow poked at something you weren't supposed to poke. If flowers brought him bad memories or if maybe he was allergic to them.

You watched as he gulped, avoided your eyes, and then looked at you again. He raised his hand but it was a clumsy gesture, as if he had no clue what to do.

Your heart shattered when you wondered if he had ever received any flowers in his life.

Taking half a step closer, you took the liberty of placing the flower in Astarion's hand, wrapping your fingers around his own so you could close his grip around the delicate thing. "It's for you." You reassured again.

With a gentle smile, you ran your thumb over his knuckles and turned around to check on your other companions, figuring he could use the time alone.

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Astarion never cared much for flowers.

In his 200 years of torment, trapped in an eternal night, there wasn't much room for color and delicacy.

There were rare times he saw it, when he'd stumble upon a young couple, one person bowing lightly with a smile as they gave the other a flower; both drunk in passion. He never understood the gesture. Everyone did it, but why?

Was it a silent request for something in turn? Was it a sign of commitment? Or did it happen simply to show affection?

In any case, he did not need to understand it, it's not like anyone would be handing him flowers.

Wrong. Maybe he did have to.

Because you had just given him a flower.

You had captured his attention ever since he put a dagger to your throat when you first met. His excuse for the captivation was because you'd be an easy one to seduce, nothing more. He'd charm you, gain your affection, and secure his safety in your group of misfits that you were unintentionally leading.

A simple plan, all he had to do was not have any feelings of his own. Yet it seemed like your plan, was to make his more difficult.

"It's for you." You'd told him, voice as sweet as honey and as soft as velvet as you placed the white flower in his hand.

Astarion held onto the delicate plant as if it could crumble between his fingers.

Would he care if it did? The thought certainly didn't bring him joy.

His mouth stayed agape, fangs barely poking from behind his lips. Looking between you and the pale white of the flower, he didn't know what to make of it. Did you want something from him? Was there some hidden message behind the gesture he was yet to understand?

You simply gave him a soft smile, bashful eyes avoiding his, and kept on walking. Just like that. As if you hadn't just turned his world upside down.

Was this what… affection looked like?

A small scoff escaped Astarion then. Clearly, his plan was working, you were growing fond of him. So naive, so easy.

But then… why did he feel like his dead heart was the one coming back alive only so it could beat for you?

All of a sudden he felt tainted for treating you as if you were nothing more than one of his victims. But did that mean he wanted you to be something more?

The question didn't even seem like it was his to decide anymore.

Astarion looked down at the delicate flower in his hand, twirling it around and making the petals dance.

"It reminded me of you."

His ruby eyes seemed to sting. When was the last time someone had compared him with something as delicate and precious as this?

He looked up at you again, watching as you crouched down to cup Scratch's cheeks and most likely spoke with him in that silly voice you always made.

There was a weight in Astarion's chest, heavy yet warm, scary yet pleasant. He wondered, would you catch him if he fell for you?

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆

Next morning you woke up to the sight of a carefully crafted bouquet resting just beside your bedroll. Wildflowers of all colors and shapes held together by a single strip of red satin.

Astarion watched from afar, as you picked it up and buried your nose into the flowers, smiling brightly as your fingertips traced the shape of them.

When you raised your gaze to him, a dark blush dusted his cheeks and the tip of his ears. He didn't know what love looked like; but he's learning, he thinks. And if the feeling inside his chest is any indication, it looks a lot like you.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

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Astarion’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @asterordinary

[lady-of-glass-and-bone]

Sway The Stars Which Dazzle Like Pearls

Pairing: Din Djarin x female!reader

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Warnings: reader is mute due to trauma that isn't specified and uses sign language taught to her by Din, everything in italics is being signed.

A/N: I feel like I haven't written anything in forever and I was worried about not being able to get this done in time and that if I did that it wouldn't be good enough anyway. But, here it is, good or bad. If I got anything wrong as far as communicating via sign language, let me know so I can do better! My fic for the Summer Lovin' 2024 writing challenge. @pedgito @chaotic-mystery

The planet they land on seems to have an eternal night, a never ending full moon and black sand beaches. Here, the stars reflect perfectly in the still waters, a mirror image of the galaxy spread out above. She walks down the Razor Crest's ramp silently, assessing these surroundings with a sharp eye.

He watches her squat down on her haunches to scoop up a handful of the dark sand, crushing it around between her fingers like she's feeling for the quality of an expensive fabric woven on a far off planet. Her face gives little away of what she is thinking.

Din doesn't know much about her past, about what happened before he found her stowed away on the Crest and petrified of her own shadow after his (first) explosive departure from Nevarro, the tiny green kid in tow.

All he knows is that she can't talk. The words are there, he can see them tumbling around behind her eyes, but they seem to get clogged up in her throat, like a gummed up hyperdrive. So he'd started teaching her to sign.

Her footsteps crunch the gravel-sand as she makes her way over to his side, brushing her hands together to clean off the excess sand but some grains still cling to the creases between her fingers, almost sparkling in the moonlight like jewelry. She pins him with a questioning gaze and signs

'Why?'

"Why what?" he motions backs and she fumbles another word, face scrunched in frustration until she finds her rhythm

'Why are we here? Bounty?"

Din shakes his head, considering what he would call this little excursion between jobs before he replies with

"Pitstop, for fun"

"You do fun?" she pulls her mouth into a smirk, pleased at her little joke.

Din tries not to sigh. He's glad they can communicate so freely now, it's light-years better than their rough early days where any movement to sudden or big had her flinching away violently. But he has no idea how she learned to put so much sarcasm into her gestures. Not that he minds now. Anything is better than seeing that unfiltered terror in her eyes.

"Come" he turns and takes a step toward the gently lapping waters edge but doesn't hear her follow, he turns back with a questioning tilt of his helmet

"What is it?" she asks, expression concerned, still rooted in place

"Something good" he assures

"Promise?"

"Yes."

When they reach the water, the ship and the sleeping green child inside it are only a few yards away, a hulking silhouette jutting out of the otherwise flat landscape.

Pulling off his gloves and tucking them safely away, Din crouches down, the toes of his boots touching the water. His companion mimics him, watching carefully as he slowly submerges his hands in the water before carefully feeling around in the wet sand below.

She taps her knuckles into the soft place just below his beskar pauldron, knowing from unfortunate experience not to catch the armor with her bare hands, furrowing her brows when he turns to look at her, seeing her ask

"What are you looking for?"

"Just wait" Din says aloud and she leans back to sit properly on the ground, still curiously watching him dig around, one of her own hands drawing meaningless shapes in the sand beside her.

It takes him a few tries before he finds it, a small orb made and shaped by time and natural forces until it was washed ashore, waiting to be found.

Sitting back beside her, Din holds out his find nestled in the palm of his hand. It stands out stark white and shining in the odd moonlight.

She signs something he doesn't recognize at first, she watches him for a moment, waiting, and then tries again

"Diamond"

"No, pearl" he says out loud and signs it once, twice, then watches her repeat the motion.

The first few times are uncertain as her eyes dart between her hands and his, studying the movement he makes which shapes this new word. Then a couple more times, each with more confidence until

"Pearl" she signs, grinning over at him

"Good" Din smiles beneath his helmet, holding out the pearl to her, an offering.

"Mine?" she quirks a brow at him, still uneasy with receiving things she doesn't feel she has earned.

Din just watches her, hand outstretched and waiting patiently for her to accept this small gratitude.

Eventually, with the barest brush of her fingertips across his naked palm, she takes the pearl. Holding it reverently, worry flashing across her face before she curls her hand around the gifted treasure.

Din had learned to sit with silence long before he met her, so he turns his head out toward the water, then upward just a little, like he's watching the stars.

He isn't. He is giving her the privacy to feel those sometimes tumultuous emotions that come with receiving a gift.

She frowns at her closed fist, lips pulled down in a deep scowl. If her eyes look a bit glossy, she would never admit it. There's a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, a roiling feeling that urges her to not accept this. Not to trust.

But she can see the Mandalorian from the corner of her eye, pretending to watch the stars, nervously rubbing the tips of his fingers together and smearing the gritty sand there until it sloughs off and back onto the beach.

Her courage feels like a finite thing, urgently flopping around in her chest like a gasping fish on land. She leans over closer to the Mandalorian, sees his helmet shift but not quite turn fully toward her as she wraps her arms around his bicep, the pauldron on his shoulder cold even through her shirt.

Hugging him feels like a monumental leap, her cheek pressed against the mudhorn sigil on his beskar shoulder. Her courage has waned and she feels weak, vulnerable, but the little pearl clutched in her hand reminds her that it isn't gone for good.

That it is okay to lean into her companion, her friend, who seems like a forever sturdy rock in the storm that has eclipsed her life.

Awkwardly, arms still wrapped around her Mandalorian's arm, she tells him

"Thank you."

Din makes a sound of acknowledgement, smiling gently beneath his helmet and watching her from the corner of his eye. Her face seems content and his chest constricts in pride, to see that he has hopefully earned her trust enough for her to relax in his presence.

"You're not even looking at the stars" she softly accuses, leaning forward to fully grab his attention

"Neither are you" he retorts.

She huffs a small laugh, tilting her head and raising a hand slowly toward the smooth metal cheek of his helmet. She guides him so they are face to face. Sort of.

They stare, her watching the reflection of the stars in the visor of his helmet, wondering just a little if his eyes are bright beneath all this beskar. If he's looking at her as gratefully as she is him.

Din watches her face, unsure about the hand she has on his helmet, but far more distracted with trying to decipher her expression. Joy seems too big, maybe contentment?

Either way, neither one of them is watching the stars turn above them, a precious pearl clutched between them, a symbol of more. Of hope.