rya

thinking about Steve giving you money to buy yourself new clothes only for you to come home with nothing because you feel like nothing looks good on you. dressing rooms make you so self conscious and you’d rather never buy new clothes again then try them all on. trying them on makes you so sweaty and gross and feels like your exerting all your energy onto something that’s just gonna make you feel worse in the long run.

why does nothing look good on you?

you return home with nothing and when Steve comes home from work he’s devastated he doesn’t get a fashion show from you.

“Why didn’t you spend my money honey?”

You stutter, embarrassed and worried about being perceived poorly by Steve, “Nothing really was my style.”

Steve doesn’t believe it for a second. You loved the stores at your local mall. You must have been struggling again. He knows you’ve had some moments in the past with your weight and body image. He hates that you go through that. You’re his angel, you should never have to think so badly about yourself.

He reaches out for your hand, wanting to soothe you before he asks the tough questions.

“Was it hard again? Trying on clothes? You can tell me baby.”

It doesn’t take you long to break down in his arms. You hide your face in his chest, melting your tears into his bomber jacket.

“Nothing fits me and it all looks terrible and- and-”, your words are broken up by your constant hiccuping, trying to catch your breath from crying and talking at the same time.

Steve slowly smooths out your hair, gently petting all the way down your back. “Honey, nothing looked terrible on you. You are gorgeous, your body is gorgeous, your soul is gorgeous. I love you.”

You sputter against him, too afraid to show face. Your kind, loving boyfriend gave you his own money to buy yourself nice clothes and you don’t think you deserve it.

You do the only thing you can think off, apologize.

“I’m so sorry Stevie.. I should have bought something. I didn’t mean to make you upset, you were trying to be nice..”

He cuts off your word vomit, “Shhh… no need to be sorry. I just want my girl looking and feeling her best. Makes me feel good when I know I can provide that for her.”

The tears dry up but you’re still plastered against Steve’s chest. He slowly pulls back to get a good look at your face.

“Baby, I know you’ve struggled with body image but you are perfect to me. How can I show you I mean that?How do I show you you’re beautiful?”

You go silent, hands still pulling and begging to be attached to him. “I don’t know… I- I just had an awful time today. All I could think was how nothing looked… right. It was all too big or too small. Nothing flattered me.”

He kisses your forehead and then continues to stroke your hair as he pulls you back into his chest. “Honey you flatter the clothes, not the other way around.”

Steve always had such a way with words. You suddenly feel better then have had all day since you stepped inside that dressing room.

“ I have Sunday off. How about we go back to the mall and I’ll sit in that dressing room with you all day and fight off all those mean thoughts. They’ll be left outside the curtains. Only you and me allowed.”

You slip out a quiet chuckle.

“Hmm? Sound good? I want you to spend my money honey,” He leans in and pushes your hair behind your ear to whisper, “and not think so badly of yourself. I love you. No matter what size you wear or how you’re think people perceive you. You are my gorgeous girl.”

You nuzzle into his shoulder. “Sunday then Stevie.”

Pairing: OB/GYN!Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: SMUT 18+ after supporting Steve through medical school, he shows his special girl just how much he learned.

Warnings: Inspection kink, pussy pronouns, fingering, squirting, established relationship, talks of engagement, talks of his work, porn with plot I feel like it's kind of slow burn, pet names (sweetheart, baby, my girl, honey), roleplay I guess?

i hope you guys are picking up what I'm putting down ;)

Steve has been in medical school for 8 years. 8 long years of late night takeout, flash cards and moral support. After you graduated with your 4 year degree, you told Steve you’d support him. You’d work full time while he finished school. And not once did you regret that decision. You loved Steve and after a spiral of what he wanted to do with his life, his settled on gynecology. It honestly made sense, women felt comfortable around him, he was passionate about babies and childcare, and he loved the female anatomy.

His graduation creeped up quicker than expected. After spending 8 years in school and 9 years dating you, it finally felt like life was beginning for him. He was ready to start his residency and finally get paid. Finally love and support you like you did him all these years. He was planning on a buying a you a ring with his first big paycheck. Obviously, you were oblivious to this because you were so focused on making sure Steve could make it through school. You never asked for a ring or talked about marriage, it just seemed obvious that you guys would stay together, so why talk about it?

His residency started next week. The weekend was a blur of him getting everything prepared, last minute meetings, and kissing up to you. Not like he needed to, he just wanted to spoil you before he started his weird hours.

“Sweetheart, you want to watch a movie tonight?”

You look up from your spot in the kitchen. You were meal prepping his lunches, something you always liked to do cause it felt like he was taking a part of you with him everyday. “Sure, baby. Anything you want.”

You wrap up your prepping and label the containers. You place them in the fridge and wash your hands. The walk to the couch was cut off by Steve snaking his hands around your waist. He gives you a squeeze strong enough to lift your feet off the ground.

“Steve!”

He attacks the back of your neck with kisses, slobbering all over you.

"Put me down!"

He gently releases you and leads you over to the couch with a hand on your back. You immediately cuddle up to his side and pet the hair at the nape of his neck. "Are you nervous for tomorrow?" you ask him. His head dips a little bit before he makes eye contact with you.

"I guess. It feels like everything has led up to this moment and I'm not even done yet. I still have to finish this residency before I can even go into general. I don't know how you're so patient because I'm not."

"I'm patient because I love you. This is your dream and I support you baby." you ruffle his hair a bit and he stifles a laugh. He completely embraces you and stuffs his nose in the crook of your neck. "You're too good to me sweetheart."

The night blurs in cuddles and sleepy kisses. In the morning, you finally get ready side by side brushing your teeth and fluffing each other's hair. You pack his lunch and your work bag. Your business causal looks bland next to his colorful scrubs. His office required he wore marron scrubs which was definitely doing it for you. You press a kiss to his lips and send him off to his first day of residency.

"Text me on your lunch Stevie? I want to know how it's going."

He agrees and presses on more kiss to your forehead. "See you tonight sweetheart. Don't work too hard." he winks and heads down to the parking garage to make his way to the office. You walk to the train, ready to head into the city.

The first half of your day goes by incredibly slow, all you can think about is how Steves first day is going. Residency was a big deal, and you were so proud of him, but you hated that you couldn't keep in contact with him during the workday like you could when he was in school. When lunch finally comes around you check you phone almost every minute. You were desperate for an update. You hoped all his hard work was paying off. Then your phone rang. You picked it up on the first ring.

"Stevie?"

Hi sweetheart. How's your day been?"

"No no no, how was your day Steve? Everything going well?"

"Sweetheart... It's actually amazing. I'm actually putting in work here. It feels great."

"Yay! Steve I'm so proud of you. You worked so hard for this."

"Thanks baby. I couldn't have done this without you. Genuinely. I love you baby."

"I love you too, Steve. Is chicken parm okay for dinner tonight?"

"Of course. You know I like anything you make. I'll tell you more about it over dinner tonight, ok?"

"Sounds good Stevie. Have a great rest of your day!"

"You too sweetheart. See you tonight."

The call disconnects and you can finally focus on your workday now that you know Steve's going alright. You clock back in and can't wait to see him after his shift.

You take the train back home and change out of your work clothes. You pull on one of Steve's old ratty hoodies from high school with sleep shorts and slippers. Steve was weird about shoes in the house, so he made you wear slippers. You told him you could go barefoot but he wanted you to protect your feet, so he bought you some slippers a while back. It makes him feel better that your being safe within the apartment. Someone must have said something to him in medical school about not wearing shoes and he just never let it go.

As you finish up the chicken parm, you hear Steves key turn in the door. He walks in, toes off his shoes at the door and sets his lunch box down on the counter.

"Oh, sweetheart it smells delicious. I missed you so much."

He leans in and kisses your cheek. You giggle as his lips tickle you. You start to plate dinner and hand him a soda.

"So how was it? My big doctor man."

"That's Doctor Harrington to you baby."

You pull on his scrubs teasing him, "This color looks so good on you."

"Oh yeah? My scrubs turn you on?" he reaches around to grab you ass. Before he makes contact you swat his hands, " Eat your dinner first, Steve."

He immediately retreats and grabs his plate, "Yes ma'am."

Steve shares his day over dinner, allowing you to poke and prod with your millions of questions. He neverminded you being curious about his studies or even his work because you never understood the medical field, that's why you ended up in corporate. You never held jealousy or resentment towards Steve for the path he took because he was genuinely helping women. He had a such sweet heart, and it belonged to you so there was no need to doubt or be jealous around him.

Dinner wraps up quickly and you take the dishes to the sink to wash them.

"Why don't you go wash up while I do the dishes. I'm sure you want to get out of those scrubs."

"Actually, I think I have one more patient today," Steve smirks and sizes you up and down. You set down the dish you were washing, confused.

"Do you have to go back in? I thought you agreed to the day shift."

Steve rounds the bar top and smothers you from behind. "Steve! What are you doing." He hoists you up, getting enough momentum to hook his arm under your knees to carry you bridal style.

"I gotta take care of my favorite patient. Make sure she's all ok down there."

You gawk at him; you've never seen this type of boldness from him. Maybe it was the way you complemented his scrubs earlier or maybe just the fact he liked to be more playful in the bedroom, either way you could tell you were in for a long night. He takes in your shocked expression, "Scared of a little checkup baby? Don't worry Dr. Harrington's going to take real good care of you."

He lays you down on the bed. His arms hook around your thighs pulling them apart and towards him, closer to the edge of the bed. The breath catches in your throat at the sudden movement.

"Steve-"

"Ah ah," he tsks at you, "It's Doctor baby.

A blooming heat starts to rise in your stomach trailing all the way up to your throat. This bossy side to him was really getting to you. Maybe the whole doctor thing really went to his head. Whatever it was it was also going straight to your wet heat, making your panties stick to your cunt. You were almost embarrassed. should this be turning you on? But it was your hot boyfriend in scrubs, surely this fantasy was ok to indulge, especially if he started it.

Steve starts to play with the waistband of your sleep shorts. "I got to take a real good look at this pussy sweetheart. Make sure she looks ok, alright? Be a good girl for me."

You nod, biting your lip. He taps your leg signaling to lift your hips. You oblige and he basically rips the sleep shorts off your hips. He leaves you in just his hoodie and your thong. You weren't expecting this, but you were secretly glad you decided to wear some presentable underwear.

"Alright sweetie, I need to open you up get a good look,'" he starts to trace the line of your thong with his fingertip. His slow, dragging movements make you clench around nothing. You let out breathy sigh, you go to bring you thighs together looking for some pressure, but he keeps your legs spread.

"Gotta keep em open for me baby. I gotta do my job correctly."

His finger resumes its tracing. He adds more pressure, pushing against the fabric harder making it rub against your already puffy clit. You were needy for Steve on a normal night but whatever power trip doctor thing he's got going on right now was wrecking you.

He slips his finger under the fabric and pulls it back taking a look underneath. Then suddenly he lets go letting it snap back against your folds.

You yelp, "Steve!"

"She's all nice and sensitive for me. That's a good sign sweetheart." he reaches up to your hip and finally pulls off your thong. The cold air of the bedroom sweeps over your wetness making you shiver and pulse. Steve rubs your thigh, "It's ok sweetheart we are about to start your examination. Try to stay still for me."

He fingers make a V and he starts to rub your lips. "Wanna make sure you're all worked up baby." he gently closes his fingers squeezing your lips between them. You squirm at the sensation and he lets go.

"Stev-"

He goes straight for your clit, rubbing slow lazy circles.

"Prettiest pussy I ever saw baby."

You mewl, finally getting the attention you need. His face travels closer to your cunt. He continues his circles as his mouth ghosts over you. You arch forward begging for the connection but instead he pulls back and blows cold air over your clit.

"Ah- oh- Steve..."

You continue to pulse as his fingers get closer to dipping into your core.

"Everything seems to be working just fine princess. So good for me. My good girl."

"Please Steve.."

"You want my fingers? Want me to check inside? Make sure I can work your g-spot? Huh, Honey?"

You nod; you buck your hips up again feeling the tips of his fingers dig into your hole.

"Since you've been such a good patient, I'll let you have it."

He finally sinks his fingers all the way into your sopping pussy. You cry at the sudden pressure. You moan and twist so worked up by his constant teasing. He scissors and plunges them in and out in a terrifying rhythm almost pulling you to the edge too soon. Your hands fly to find something to grasp onto, making purchase on his biceps. You squeeze digging your nails into his skin. He grunts and his fingers get a little faster, your squeezing egging him on.

"My sweet girl. Her pussy's so health for me, squeezing me so good."

Your moans get louder, your grip getting tighter. He knows you're getting close. He keeps his rhythm pushing you closer to your release, "So close sweetheart, I know your so close for me."

"Steve I- I'm gonna.."

Suddenly, the heat in your stomach starts to turn, you feel a pressure you've never felt before, it felt almost like you had to pee. The pressure from his fingers and from inside of you was almost too much to handle.

"Steve stop- I think I have to-"

Stev continues his pace, "That's normal sweetheart just let it happen. Means your pussy's working right for me."

Your eyes squeeze shut, and you reach the height of the pressure. You feel a rush of liquid cascade out of you. You moan and squirm and scratch at Steves arms. He works you through the rest of your orgasm, lightly petting your lips and up and down your thighs. When you finally open your eyes, your eyes catch on the dark patches all over his scrubs.

"Oh god- did I pee on your scrubs?"

"No sweetheart, you just squirted for me. My good girl, my best patient." he leans down and gives you a kiss, moving your sweat slick hair off your forehead.

"It kinda felt weird. Like I was peeing."

"You weren't. Sometimes when you have an orgasm liquid from your bladder can mix with your ejaculation. You just have to know how to put the right pressure on it to happen. Did it feel good for you?"

"It felt so good Steve, I didn't know I could do that. But I got your scrubs all wet."

"That's alright sweetheart, I don't mind."

He walks over to the hamper and pulls of his scrubs. "I'm officially off duty. My last patient was such a good girl. Let me get you cleaned up." He runs to the bathroom to grab a warm cloth. He wipes you gently and presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Do all your patients get this type of treatment?"

He laughs, "Of course not baby. You're the only one." He snuggles in next to you and curls into your back pushing his nose into your neck.

"Like I said, you're my best patient." his voice gets lower just enough to where you can barely hear him, "and my favorite pussy." He attacks your neck with sloppy kisses.

"Steve!" you can't stop giggling at the ticklish sensation on your neck.

"Maybe I should get checked out more often."

"Anything you want princess. Next time I'll pull out the white coat."

"Oh yeah, Doctor?"

"Anything for my favorite patient."

Rearranging Habits

Joe Keery x ocd!reader | Word Count: 1,027

Summary: Cooking dinner with Joe turns into a look within your daily habits and how you can navigate your OCD.

Warnings: Intrusive thoughts, talks of OCD, joe being a sweetie, health OCD a bit, cooking

a/n: i hope this was what you were looking for. sorry it took forever to get out!

Dinner was always the worst time of the day for you.

Making sure the food was cooked properly, that everything was fresh and safe to eat as well as keeping everything clean at the same time. It was exhausting. Dinner should be a time to bond with your partner and be able to reconnect after the workday, but it always ended the same way, a fight between you and Joe.

You had to have control over everything that was going on in the kitchen. If you were micromanaging something might just fall through the cracks.

What if the meat's not all the way cooked?

What if Joe cuts himself?

Did he wash his hands before handling the vetables?

Did you wash your hands?

Every second that passes in the kitchen adds to your never-ending spiral so now Joe sits in the living you and you handle dinner. It wasn't always like this, but your spells have gotten worse, and instead of seeking comfort in Joe you've been pushing him away. Especially pushing him out of the kitchen.

"Sweetie, you know I can take over right?" he calls from his worn spot in the couch. "You love the way I season my chicken."

He's right. You did love the way he grilled chicken. Or maybe loved. There were too many risk factors with letting someone else take over, even if it is your loving boyfriend.

"I got it," You start to slice the chicken.

The knife will slip.

You stop cutting. You turn around to face towards the sink and wash the knife making sure the handle is completely dry and free of oils. Once you are sure the knife is dry, clean and safe, you return to the chicken. You can feel Joe's gaze, but you keep going afraid to break the flow of your cooking.

While the chicken sizzles, you work on the vegetables. You hear Joe stand up from his spot and make his way into the kitchen. His footsteps are light like he's worried about spooking you.

"Let me do the vegetables, baby. You've done enough tonight. Let me help."

"Joe, I have to finish what I've started." you say sternly. Joes heard this argument before, but he doesn't really understand it. Why would you want to do all the work when he was right there basically begging to take care of you. He hovers in your space for a bit, clearly not getting the hint that you are set on finishing the dinner. You throw the vegetables in a separate pan to sear those too.

"Joe? Space please?"

He steps back respecting your wishes, but he still looks like a kicked puppy. " Just let me know, sweetheart. I'm here for you."

You instantly feel bad. Yeah, Joe knows about your OCD, but it's not like you tell him about it all the time. He knows the basics and that's all you thought he would want to know. But if he could reach into your mind he would. He just wants his girl to feel safe and secure with him.

When everything is finished cooking you plate it up and set them beside the stove. You click off the stove and grab the plates to set them on the bartop.

Wait did you turn off the stove?

You cross back over to the stove and check the dial, it's off.

Is it really off though?

You click the stove back on. The back off.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Click.

You get caught up in the motions until you feel Joe rubbing your shoulder, "Sweetheart? Everything ok? What's going on with the stove."

It'll catch on fire if you don't turn it back off.

Click.

Click.

"I'm fine."

You drop your hand and walk away. Joe follows behind and you take your spots at the bar. Dinner is pretty much silent. Thoughts are running through both of your heads. Joes are arguably more pensive than yours are, but nevertheless you guys are both lost in thought. After the plates are scraped free, (you can't leave anything left on the plate or else someone will go hungry), you stand to clear the table. You reach the sink and start to pull on your washing gloves.

"Baby I got it."

Joe knows you hate doing the dishes. The feeling of wet food icks you out, which is why you bought gloves instead of just letting Joe take care of it. Finally, he gets fed up with your stubbornness and takes over. He grabs your shoulders, spins you around and pulls off your gloves.

"Sweetheart. I am going to do the dishes, and you are going to sit on the couch and watch tv."

You stare back at him, shocked by his sternness. Joe usually always gives into you and your habits, so him being this unmoved is unusual.

"It makes me sick watching you tear yourself apart. Let me take over some of the load," Joe reaches into the sink to start scrubbing the dishes. You move behind him and hug him pressing your stomach to his back.

"I love you honey but it's ok to ask for help. I love doing things for you and I love cooking dinner. I know it's hard in your head, but I will be there to debunk the thoughts." He continues to wash and dry dishes and you never let go of his back, your arms snaking and crossing on top of his tummy.

You stay intertwined until he finishes the dishes and once, he turns around he places a kiss on your forehead. "Let's get ready for bed sweetheart, and you can tell me all about what's going on in the head of yours. Nothing you say can scare me."

He gently guides you to your shared room and you guys change into pjs and brush your teeth side by side. Once you both snuggle into bed your thoughts come out in a stream of consciousness, all the weight being melted off of you by Joes warm hands.

steve harrington x female reader | word count: 1,159

summary: when you feel ashamed of your acne, steve reminds you how much he loves you.

warnings: discussions of acne and periods, self-deprecating reader, fluffy steve

you couldn't go out like this. the acne that always flares up right before your period was invading your face. you couldn't even see yourself underneath it. no matter how many layers of makeup you seemed to cake on your face, the acne always peaked through.

the tens of layers of mascara started to smear down your face as frustrated tears fall out of your eyes. you yank out another makeup wipe and go to town taking off the useless makeup. tears mix with the foamy soap coming off the wipe. you scrub harder aggravating your skin, making it redder than it was before. wipes pile up on your vanity making a mountain in front of your caboodle.

you rub your eyes defeated, the remnants of the mascara smearing your undereye. you couldn't see steve like this. you always hid from him anyways when your period came creeping around. you'll just tell him you're sick (which is bad karma), or your tired (which is true), or that you're grounded (he'd never believe that).

you rest your forehead in the pile of wipes on the desk as you hear a soft knock on your bedroom door. steve.

"honey? you awake in here?"

you groan, " go away steve."

"baby? why weren't you downstairs? the movie starts in 30 minutes."

he cracks open the door to catch a glimpse of you slumped at your vanity.

"can i come in?"

you shrug which is basically motioning him to come in. you don't lift your head off the vanity when he gently closes the door. his warm hand embraces your shoulder, the heat feeling like a lifeline against your skin. he waits for a second trying to see if you would say anything first, but after a minute he realizes hell have to pull it out of you.

"honey, can you look at me?"

you shake your head as its buried in your arms, "steve i have to cancel tonight. you can just go home."

steve pulls his hand off your shoulder and places the flowers he was carrying on your vanity. if you picked your head up earlier you would have seen he brought you your favorites. but determined that he can't see your face you ignore them.

"did i do something? you seemed excited on the phone earlier."

he nudges the flowers on your arms to see if that will perk your head up. steve loved getting you flowers and you loved receiving them just as much. you always thought about how he cute he must look shopping in the floral section of the grocery store for you.

"i just- i'm not feeling up to it. i'm don't look my best tonight."

"baby you always look good. can you please look at me?"

you cave, finally raising your head but keeping your eyes pinned on the flowers. steve reaches over and tucks your hair behind your ear. he takes in your bare face with nothing but admiration in his eyes

"i don't care that you don't have makeup right now. don't ever feel like you have to wear it out with me."

you laugh, "steve it's not about the makeup." you gesture to your face, too embarrassed to say it out loud because then steve will know too.

"then tell me sweetheart, i'm listening."

you finally meet his eyes and your self-restraint snaps. every nasty thought that was bubbling up in your mind found its way out of your mouth.

"my face looks all blotchy and i'm basically an active volcano and i just look stupid and gross and my makeup won't cover and i don't want you being seen with my cause everyone will think i'm ugly and you have to be associated with that and my period is coming up which is even grosser cause you can't be around me during it so i suffer myself and-"

"woah woah woah, slow down sweetheart." steve turns your stool around and sits across from you on the bed. "i didn't even notice your acne baby. i just see your beautiful face."

you look down embarrassed of your word vomit. he pushes your chin up to meet your eyes again.

"you are not ugly. ever. and i sure as hell don't care about some acne."

"steve i-"

"also, i have never once said anything negative about you being on your period. you are a woman and that is a beautiful part of womanhood. literally nothing would make me happier than being able to cuddle you when you're hurting or on your period. i just thought we weren't at that stage yet in the relationship. you should have told me that you felt this way."

" i didn't want it to be an inconvenience for you. plus, i get all gross and bloated."

steve rubs his hands through his hair, "baby you are gorgeous to me no matter what. i don't care if your bloated or if you have acne, i just want to love on you and make you feel like the princess you are."

you face heats up immediately. steve reserves princess for very special occasions so you know he's being serious about every single word he is speaking.

"i have craters on my face steve. that is not attraction."

"i have moles all over mine baby."

"that's different."

"no it's not. i still get self-conscious about them. but you call them constellations. so your acne is just temporary constellations."

"steve-"

"constellations of you. constellations of your womanhood. what makes you so special and perfect and beautiful to me."

your eyes begin to prickle with tears. "oh sweetheart it's ok." you let steve wipe your under eyes and cross the gap into his lap. you melt instantly, burying your face into the crook of your neck. his hand comes up to caress your back.

how about this. i replace your flowers, you pick out some of those silly face masks you have, and we'll watch a movie tonight here. no pressure, just us."

you sniffle, "sounds perfect." you slide off his lap and make your way into the bathroom to find the face masks you keep for when you can convince steve to do them with him. maybe hell even let you try to braid his hair tonight. he always feigns annoyance, but you know deep down he actually likes it.

"and sweetie? if you ever hurting on your period, call me. i'll pick you up some ice cream and give you all the warm cuddles you need. you know i run hot." he winks.

you look back at him through the bathroom doorway, "you run like a sauna, but yeah i will."

"no more hiding baby. i'm here to help, that's what boyfriends are for."

you nod suddenly overwhelmed with your love for him. you lucked out and or the rest of the night, you never once think about your acne.

Steve Harrington x ex!reader | word count: 2,045

Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of the night and there’s only one person who you can possibly call this late at night, your ex Steve Harrington.

Warnings: cursing, problems with parents, car issues, reader is kinda avoidant towards Steve

a/n: so this literally happened to me today and all i could think about was how i wish i could call Steve to fix my car lol

Driving home from dinner with your parents was already stressful enough. With the constant complaint about the food and endless bickering over stupid stuff, all you needed was a quiet drive home.

The radio was set to 5, just enough to where you could hear it over the sound of the wind gliding off the top of your car. You had one hand perched on the wheel until all of a sudden the air started to feel hot. You check the vents and the air is almost scorching, like you would have it in the winter time. Moments later you hear a soft ding, the temperature light popping on.

“What’s going on?” you whisper even though you’re completely alone.

The car starts to slow, the temperature gauge pointing all the way at the big H on the right.

“Shit”

You press the gas harder, you were almost to your house why was your car deciding to overheat right in this very moment. The car stalls and slows even more, causing you to flip your hazards on and pull over. Once parked, you realize you will not be making it home in this vehicle tonight. You needed a ride, but who would you call? And how would you even call?

There has to be a phone box around here somewhere, you think.

You check the street signs and recognize that there should be a gas station a couple blocks up. You can call from there. You lock the car and trudge through the night until you see the glowing street signs advertising gas and slushees. You dial the local towing company, but your met with a harsh dial tone as the were closed for the night.

What kind of towing company closes?

You ponder for bit. You absolutely did not want to call your parents. Robin’s definitely sleeping and doesn’t even have a license. None of the party can drive by themselves yet. After racking though the catalogue of all your friends you land on the one person you told yourself you’d never call again.

Steve Harrington.

Right person, wrong time. You broke up right before you left for college, worried that if you did long distance you would hold Steve back from living his life in Hawkins. It was a terrible decision, but after hearing from Robin about the many dates he went on after you left, it didn’t seem so crazy after all.

But you missed him. Bad.

Jeez, I can’t call him. That’s shitty.

You play with the phone cord trying to come with any other excuse to call him, but you fail. It’s late, you have to get home. And he always used to talk about his love for cars. If anyone would know what’s wrong it would be him.

You talk a deep breath and dial the Harrington’s house phone. After 2 rings it connects. You can hear Steve’s sleepy breathing over the receiver.

“Steve? Uh it’s-”

“Honey?”

The nickname catches your breath in your throat. This had to be a mistake.

“Honey what’s wrong? Are you at school?”

School. He thinks you’re at school. What are you doing?

You take a moment to collect your thoughts.

“I’m in Hawkins. Did I wake you?”

“Kinda.. are you okay?”

“My uh.. car broke down. I think it overheated. Could you come take a look?”

“Are you alright?” his voice almost sounds panicked.

“I’m alright,” you reassure him, “but my car sure isn’t.”

You hear a shuffle over the phone which kinda sounds like him tumbling over himself to put on shoes.

“Where you at? Tell me the street.”

“My car’s on Magnolia, but I’m at the gas station a bit up the road.”

“Hon- just walk back to the car, keep watch of your surroundings. I’ll be there in 10.”

The line disconnects and you’re standing frozen in the booth. Steve was coming. You woke him up and his was coming to get you. This was going to be a long night.

By the time you walked back to the car, you could see Steve’s headlight shining in the distance. He pulls in behind your car and parks.

You stiffen as he steps out of his beloved Beamer. He’s in plaid pajama pants and his trainers. He’s got awful bedhead.

“I uh think the car overheated. I already popped the hood if you could look,” you shuffle your feet feeling pretty bashful that you woke him up in the middle of the night for this. He grabs a tool box from his back seat and makes his way over. You can tell he’s trying his hardest not to maintain eye contact with you. Maybe the break up affected him as much as it did you.

He examines under the hood playing around with a few things until he comes to a conclusion.

“Your coolant is cracked and has a leak. It means that the waters leaking into the car instead of going to the motor to cool it down when it’s running.”

He wipes his forehead with his sleeve, “Unfortunately it will have to be fixed professionally, so we’ll have to leave it here tonight and we can come get it in the morning and take it to the shop.”

He starts to pack up his tool box as you stare blankly at him. Your car, your baby, has a serious issue and you have to leave her on the side of the road. Worst night ever.

“Come on, sweetie. I’ll drive you home.”

“Sweetie?”, you question.

“Force of habit”, he says bitterly. “Hop in.”

His car smells exactly the same as it did last summer. His cologne fills your nostrils and the soft yacht rock fills your ears. It feels like coming home.

You drive in silence for most of the car ride, until his misses the turn into your neighborhood.

“Steve you missed the turn.”

“I’m taking you to mine tonight. It’ll be easier when we have to go get your car in the morning. Plus I know that look on your face. You fought with your parents tonight, didn’t you?”

How did he know that?

Apparently he’s scarily good at reading you.

“Yes. Unfortunately I did.” you respond. “I barely even wanted to come home and look what happens. My basically almost exploded.”

“Your car will be ok. I’ll get her fixed tomorrow.”

Without thought, his right hand loses the wheel and squeezes your thigh reassuringly. You heart almost stops. You haven’t this close to Steve in ages and it’s really having an effect on you. He pulls away his hand and continues to look straight ahead, nervous to see your reaction on his slip of the hand.

After a few more silent minutes he pulls into his driveway, “I can get the guest bed made up for you. My parents are in Europe right now, so it’s just us.”

The house is as welcoming as ever, with its showcase interior. It looks the same as the last time you saw it. Barren of any family photos. Steve’s room was the only room you liked in the house because it actually had character, and maybe because it smelled like Steve x100.

Feeling the boldness of Steve placing his hand on your thigh, you muck up the courage to ask, “Could I actually stay in your room?”

His face goes pale at the ask.

“Are you sure?” he shuffles his feet nervously.

“I just feel safer in there. Plus your beds super comfy.”

Steve’s face flushes and he steps aside to follow you up the staircase. It all feels weirdly familiar like you didn’t date him for 2 years. You slide your hand up the banister taking it all in. This would be last time you ever saw the inside of his house. Hell, you weren’t even supposed to be in here in the first place.

Once you reach his bedroom he beelines to his drawers to grab you some pajamas. He pulls out a set you must have left a while ago. The ones you thought your roommate must have took a school.

“Hey! I was wondering where those went!”

He blushes again sheepishly. “You uh left em here when you went to school. I didn’t know how to contact you and all. It’s not like dorm rooms have their own phone and stuff.”.

He looks down as he hands them to you. He head to the bathroom to change. You take your time honestly nervous to go back out there. Why would you agree to stay with him. You should have been stricter and made him take you home. This isn’t right.

When you return, he’s already in bed, wearing a pair of glasses.

“Since when did you wear glasses?”

“I got em after you left. Couldn’t see when I was working so figured I’d get them checked out. Now I need em.”

“They’re cute.”

You look down fast, as both of your faces heat up. The compliment completely slipped off the tongue. He just makes it so easy.

“I missed you.”

You look up catching his gaze.

“You don’t mean that.”

“I do.”

You saunter over to the left side of the bed. Steve pulls back the covers before you get the chance to.

“You leaving.. was probably the worst thing that ever happened to me.”

“Steve, you’re being dramatic”, you say as you settle into his pillows.

“I’m not. I swear. I was torn apart that you left me.”

“I thought it would be better for you.”

He sits up straight. “Better for me? Funny.”

You turn over to face him completely. “Obviously you were fine without me here. Robin told me all about your dates.”

“Dates? What dates?”

For a moment you stutter. Steve looks genuinely confused.

“Robin told me you were seeing people.”

“I haven’t seen anyone since you left.” There was no waver to his voice. You could tell he was being dead serious.

“So who were you out with?”

He scratches his neck, “ I was kinda interviewing for babysitting gigs… I just thought since I was so good with the kids that maybe I could do it for some extra cash.”

He shoots you a cheesy but sincere grin.

“Are you serious?”

“You know I’d never lie to you. Or see anyone else. Even though we were…” he chooses his words carefully, “broken up, I still cared for you. You were the only one for me. Kinda still are.”

He laughs nervously.

“I’m sorry I broke it off. I thought I was doing right by you. I didn’t want to weigh you down by doing long distance.”

“I’d do anything for you.”

“Like pick me up in the middle of the night when my car almost explodes?” you joke.

His expression doesn’t change, “Yes. Obviously.” He says it easily, like he truly means it.

You mull it over for a while. Maybe you two could start again. Talk through the whole long distance thing. See if it could really work. You missed him so much at school and being with him again in his bedroom is almost making you sick thinking that you don’t have him like this.

“I’m here until August. I was gonna go back early, but maybe we could rekindle a bit.”

Steve’s face lights up instantly, but he speaks slowly like he’s testing the waters. “Are you sure? Maybe I could visit you up there so you have to stay with your parents for that long. Or you’re even welcome here until you leave.”

You consider it for a moment. “We can talk about it after we get my car fixed in the morning.”

“Perfect.” He reaches over to turn off his bedside lamp and pulls his glasses off his face. His head meets the pillow and his hand sneakily snakes to find yours under the covers. You let him loosely wrap his fingers around yours.

“You should wear your glasses more often,” you say sleepily as your body molds into its rightful spot in his bed. He huffs and you both fall into a deep sleep.

clarks thighs basically bulge out of his slacks when he sits down. they are so thick, they just can’t be contained. you always though it was strange how he would wear oversized suit jackets, yet he would wear the tightest pants known to man, always showing off his ass and thighs. maybe you were just a perve for noticing, watching him awkwardly jog around the daily planet when his story was almost past due. his pants straining to try and keep up with him.

you thought you were immune to clark’s boyish charm until you were sitting in his apartment with only your cotton underwear on. the pink bow right in the middle of the decorative lettuce lace keeps bringing clark’s attention right to your center.

“ my pretty girl wears the cutest underwear.”

“clark!” you gasp, overwhelmed by his boldness and the feeling of his thick finger tracing just above your underwear line.

he pats his lap, beckoning you over to him. you shyly saunter over and just as you’re about to straddle him, he clicks his tongue. “uh ah, sweetheart. just pick one.”

you face flushes, stricken by his instructions, you timidly throw your legs on either side of his right thigh. the second your clothed pussy connects with his slacks you let out a shaky moan. the pressure was heavenly and his thighs were just big enough to feel like you were riding your pillow, which is what you would do when you used to dream about clark. now with the real thing underneath you, you wait for his sign for you to start moving.

“it’s ok sweetheart, take what you need.” he hums. “you’re such a good girl, waiting for me.”

you begin to move your hips, taking in the feeling of fabric rubbing on fabric. it just so perfectly rubbed against your clit they way you needed. clark starts to bounce his leg, using his super speed to vibrate underneath you. you heart rate explodes at the new sensation. between the vibrating and the the sturdiness of his thigh you were already so close to hitting your peak.

“i know sweetheart. don’t think i didn’t notice you checking out my thighs at work.” his hand finds your hip to steady you, your body absorbing the speed and movement he was outputting with his leg. “you dirty girl.”

“clark.. i’m close-”

his leg keeps up the steady pace, allowing you to rock back and forth to take what you need. your tits were bouncing up and down in time with his leg. clark couldn’t decide what to stare at, your pretty face or your beautiful tits.

oh and the sounds. the sounds were so erotic. your moans, the wet fabric gliding across your gushing pussy, you tits slapping against each other, and the sweet sounds that were constantly escaping your mouth.

how did clark move this fast? you thought. with his thigh vibrating at a super sonic speed, you wondered how fast his fingers could go. maybe they could vibrate too. you’d never have to touch your vibrator again if clark could do it for you.

your hips start to lose their rhythm, rutting against clark’s now drenched slacks.

“clarkie.. i-” your breathing goes erratic. your hands fly to his shoulders to keep you up. suddenly your release washes over you, damping his pants even more. your panties we’re soaked, molded to your pussy and slick with your cum.

clark slowly stops vibrating his leg allowing you to come down from the high you were experiencing. you slump against his shoulder breathing into his neckt. his large hand comes to covers your back soothing you.

“was that ok for you sweetheart? not too much?”

“it was perfect.” you sigh.

still in your embrace, he reaches around your head to adjust his glasses. you stay straddled on his thigh and play with the tufts of hair just barely peeking over his dress shirt.

“so do you fingers vibrate like that too?”

pairing: joe keery x fem ocd!reader | word count: 1,700

summary: a dinner date at home turns into joe learning more about your specific ocd manifestations.

warnings: contamination ocd, medical/health ocd, pre-established relationship, joe being understanding, anxiety, mentions of salmonella and meningitis, pet names, alcohol

joe had been on his mini tour for about 3 weeks now. you honestly didn't mind when he went on tour because it gave you a break to focus on your hobbies. not that you didn't love joe, you loved him like an insane amount, but it's nice for partners to have breaks from each other. especially when you know he's having a great time with his bandmates.

touring was never for you. you would of course visit him at whatever show you could make it to, but the bus life was not your thing. you told him it wasn't personal; it was just the small spaces and the uncertainty that comes with travel. he understood and called you every single night after his shows.

tonight, joe was coming home. he wrapped up the mini tour was ready to be back at the apartment with his girl. once the buses made their stops to drop off all the boys, joes apartment was last. he started to gather his suitcases and guitars, excited to see you.

inside the apartment you were preparing dinner. parmesan chicken was always joe's favorite, so you thought it would be a good welcome home for him. after checking the recipe about 10 times, you cooked the chicken. you might have burned the chicken, just to make sure it was cooked all the way through. you didn't want to give joe salmonella after all. you were just being an attentive girlfriend.

the last few weeks you have been more on edge than usual. with joe touring the east coast, you were constantly worried for his safety, checking his location on the hour. he was almost always just at the venues he was played, but you checked up on him just to make sure. usually being apart from him, wasn't this hard, but something buried into you when he left this time. your anxiety spiked every time he went on stage. shame filled you when you knew you shouldn't be so worked up about it. you never said anything to him about it. you didn't want him to worry about you the way you worried about him.

once you believed the chicken was cooked all the way through you started to plate it, waiting for the moment he walked in the door. a few minutes later, the latch started to turn. joe walks in with his arms full of bags. he immediately drops them when he sees you and basically jumps in your arms.

“oh sweetheart, you are sight for sore eyes." joe exclaims. "it smells so good in here? is this all for me?" he gestures to the candles on your small dining room table.

you nod, " i made you favorite. i'm so happy your home."

a huge, wet kiss lands on your forehead, one of joe's specialties, and he moves to finish bringing his bags inside.

once all of his stuff is fully inside the apartment, a huge weight is lifted off your shoulders. joe is home. joe is safe. you feel a little freer, watching him saunter across the room unpacking the most important things he's needs for tonight. you bring the plates to the table setting up the perfect welcome home meal.

on the counter, your half drunk wine glass sits waiting for you. you were drinking a bit while making dinner to calm your nerves. there were about 4 more sips left in the glass when joe picks it up and takes a large swig. your eyes focus on how his lips mold around the glass, leaving an imprint. your back stiffens a bit. you think about how his spit must have gotten into the wine. you couldn't drink that. he then picks up the glass and sets it next to your plate on the table.

"joey you can have my wine if you want." you try to act calm, like your just simply offering him the glass to make it easier.

"oh it's ok darling, i was hoping we had some beer in the fridge. i'm not in a huge wine mood tonight."

you nod and grab a bottle from the fridge from him. you pop the top open and hand it to him.

"thank you baby. i missed you so much" his voice becomes a little lost as you focus on the table.

your eyes find the wine glass sitting on your coaster. you can still see the outline of his lips on the glass. you kiss joe all the time, but sharing the drink was so different in your mind. you couldn't possibly drink after him, you'd get sick.

you sit across from him and dig into dinner. the chicken's a little hard from you overcooking it, so you hope he doesn't notice. he happily eats his food and takes a swig of his beer.

“everything ok baby?” he asks. "you haven't touched your wine since we've sat down."

"i - uh don't really want it anymore..." you say softly. you just want him to drop it and let you guys finish dinner without any more questioning.

he doesn't take that as a true answer, "it's your favorite though, do you want me to get you a glass of water instead?"

you shake you head, "it's ok joe, really."

he stares at you a bit, like hes mulling something over in his head and takes another bit of the chicken. " so, what did you do will i was gone? the apartment looks great sweetheart, but you didn't have to clean for me."

you look around the apartment and its unnaturally clean state. normally the apartment looks lived in, with just the right amount of clutter, but right now it looks like a showroom.

" i read a lot. and cleaned a lot." you say shortly, you're starting to get anxious about his line of questioning. you know he's just being a loving boyfriend asking about you time apart, but it's really getting to you. joe seems to notice as he grabs you hand and starts to squeeze it, grounding you.

"you only clean like this when you spiral. did you have a spiral while i was gone?" he says it so calmly like the answer won't upset him. " i won't be upset if you did sweetheart."

"a little," you mumble.

"hey, it's ok to speak up. do you know what caused it?"

"uh.. you being gone. i worried about you being safe, and uh… not being sick." you head hangs low, eyes finding the floor. joe squeezes your hand again to remind you he's right in front of you.

"why didn't you tell me?"

"i didn't want to worry you. plus you were busy."

“baby, we talked every day. i am never too busy for you. i could have helped you through it, you know i love to help you."

joe has always been super sweet and caring once he found out about your ocd. you never planned to tell him, but he was so invested in your relationship he ended up finding out on his own. you always had patterns and certain things that would tick you off, so he just learned to recognize them and help you through it without making you feel small.

"can i ask what's up with the wine glass?"

his question catches you off guard. you weren't expecting him to ask you again about the wine, but you know you can't hide from him.

"you drank from it. you might give me meningitis."

"meningitis?"

"yes. i don' want to risk it."

"i don't have meningitis baby."

"you might."

he doesn't rebuttal. he gathers his thoughts then says, " i'm sorry for drinking from your glass without asking. next time i will ask first."

you immediately fell awful. you basically just told him he has cooties. yet he's being so sweet. you swallow, "thank you joe, i appreicate that."

"baby, i never want to put you in a situation you feel sick or unsafe in." he starts. "is there anything else i should know to be better going forward?"

"i just don't want to share any food or drink right now. and i would prefer you to take a shower before you get into bed."

"the shower's a given baby. but of course, i'll be mindful about sharing in the future."

he gets up and pulls a fresh glass from the cabinet. he fills it half full and replaces the old glass with the new one. "here baby, fresh and clean." he kisses the top of your forehead. you take a sip from the new glass, grateful that he did that for you.

the rest of dinner goes smoothly. he tells you funny stories from tour, and you explain to him all the books you read in the time he was gone.

without being asked, he takes care of the dishes. he scrubs both glasses clean and disposes of any garbage.

“i'm gonna hop in the shower sweetheart. i'll be out soon."

joe showers for about 25 minutes. you know he only took that long so you could be sure he was actually clean. he walks out in only a towel and changes into blue boxer briefs. he lays down next to you in bed pulling you into his arms.

"you smell good joey." you say as you take in his scent. you can feel the cleanliness on his skin. he feels safe.

"thanks sweetheart. how about i make us pancakes in the morning?"

you nod against him, "that sounds good."

"perfect. i love you baby."

"i love you joey."

"don't ever be afraid to tell me when something's bothering you, ok? no matter how crazy you think it sounds."

he catches your smile in the dark. " i will joe. i know you'd never make fun of me. i guess it's just a mental block."

"then i'll tear it down block by block. you're safe and healthy with me."

you snuggle closer, letting yourself melt into joe's embrace. you missed this the past couple of weeks, and you can already feel the tension disappearing within your muscles.

"goodnight my sweet girl."

"goodnight joey."

paring: clark kent x fem!reader | word count: 1,012

PART ONE PART TWO

summary: desperate to get you out of the city, your parents sign you up you up to be a camp counselor at a sleepaway camp right outside of smallville. to your dismay, you hate the outdoors and sticky children, but someone just might convince you it's not all that bad.

you don't know how long you've been staring, but once you can form a coherent thought, you snap around turning your back to him. "i'm sorry. i wasn't expecting you to be showering right now," you huff. "i mean i wasn't really expecting anyone."

you hear clark shuffle around a bit, going over to the window to grab some clean clothes from his trunk. "hey don't worry about it. it's not like both of our names are on the outside of the cabin."

you freeze. "what?" you break your stance to go check on the outside door until you run straight into what feels like a brick wall. "when you look up, you ran straight into clark, who now only has pj pants on.

he arm shoots out to steady you. "hey, i'm just joking," he says. "lighten up a bit, will ya?"

his hand on your arm makes your face flush. clark could hear your heartbeat pick up and he gives you a shy smile. if you knew that he could hear your heartbeat you would have been mortified, instead you take the smile as him just having lots of southern hospitality.

he slowly releases your arm, "you can have the shower if you want. i'm a heavy sleeper and i don't snore." you don't know what's worse, showering while he waits in your shared room, or not showering and having to stare at him all night. let's be honest you are probably gonna stare at him anyways, so you walk to your trunk and pull out a towel.

" we can share the drawers," he says. "i'll leave the bottoms ones to you so you can reach them."

oh how thoughtful, you think. you roll your eyes and walk into the shower forgetting your pjs that you folded nicely on your bed. you shower until the water runs cold. what could you have possibly done to deserve this messed up, wacky situation. your dad's gonna hear it in the first letter your allowed to send.

you step out and realize you didn't bring your pjs. how embarrassing. you muster up all your dignity and say through the door, "uh... clark could you bring me my pjs?" a second later there's a knock on the door. you crack it open, taking the pjs from him. they had little pink and blue shells on them. they were your favorite because it reminded you of your grandparents' house on the beach. usually you'd spend your summers there, but you weren't so lucky this year.

clark looks away as he passes you the pjs. you change quickly, tame your wet hair and slide into bed. across from you clark still has a lamp on. he's reading. "i'm sorry, does the light bother you?" he asks timidly.

was he always this considerate? you're almost annoyed by it, yet you've never met someone so... nice.

"it's ok. ill be fine." you roll over and face the wall.

the sun barely peaks through the window when you realize clark is gone.

great. scared him off already.

the breakfast bell begins to ring, loud and piercing through the cabins built in speakers. you rush to get up, get dressed, and do something with your messy hair. you throw on your lanyard and make your way to the mess hall.

clark's standing in the middle of the room handing out papers. "ah, there you are sunshine." he says as he abandons his post to make his way over to you. the nickname annoyed you, but you weren't in the mood to fight with your roommate.

"you're going to be with the acorns this summer. don't worry that's my team too! i'll teach you the ropes."

clark was too cheery for 7 in the morning, but since the campers arrived at 9, everyone had to be prepared. "ok! everyone can break!" he exclaims. "make sure to be at your check in spot at 8:45 so you can meet your campers. and you, sunshine, can come with me."

you sigh but follow him out of the mess hall to a table closest to the entrance of the camp. "what's with the sunshine?" you prod.

"i just though it would fit you." he shrugs.

nothing about you screams sunshine. you wonder what he could possibly see in you.

"since we are the only co-ed counselor team, our campers are co-ed. so i was thinking i'll handle the boys and you can handle the girls, sound good?"

everything clark said made sense. he was perfectly organized all the time. it kinda killed you because you always wished to be as focused like he was.

"sunshine?"

his voice snapped you eyes back to his face. "sorry, i was.."

"listen, i know you don't want to be here, but the campers do. could you put on a happy face for them, then i promise i'll let you take it out on me back at the cabin. "

you face contorts, what did that even mean? i'll let you take it out on me? before you mind starts to wander, the first couple of campers start making their way towards the check-in. clark greets them with a smile, and the kids seem to be happy to see him again.

a particularly small boy runs up to clark behind the table. "i missed you mr. clark" he yells boyishly. clark picks him up with one hand, balancing him in a way that seems to defy gravity. "i missed you too, buddy. let's get you checked in." clark checks his name off the list, then sets him down so the boy can grab his trunks from his parents.

"they seem to really like you." you observe.

"they'll like you too, i have no doubt sunshine." he reaches over and tugs your braid. you heart flutters at the unexpected touch.

you try to shake out of your clark induced trance as a group of girls make their way to the table. you smile at them still blushing and take their names.

pairing: clark kent x fem!reader | word count: 1,727

summary: something about clark's hands do it for you everytime, and you find out they have a mind of their own.

warnings: SMUT 18+, hands, hand kink, finger sucking, fingering, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl), clark being a sweetheart, some light dirty talk, established relationship but she doesn’t really know he’s superman

you never realized when you first started staring at his hands. maybe it was when he would profusely push up his glasses, or maybe when he would cook dinner for you when you came home from a long day of work.

you noticed everything about him. the way his skin would shift over his veins, how they almost always seemed to be callused even though he only worked a desk job. sometimes when he would bring work home, you'd sit next to him for hours watching the way his long fingers would fly over the keyboard, his tongue popping out of his lip when he was extremely focused.

his hands were always something you were ashamed of liking. why did it turn you on so much? it's just a regular body part, everyone has them. but not everyone has hands like clark's.

clark quietly noticed your obsession with his hands, he just was never brave enough to say anything to you about it. the way you always reached for his hand when walking down the sidewalk made his heart flutter. and when you guys would sit on the same side of the booth and you would grab his free hand and place it gently on your thigh like you wanted his attention, that made him even more nervous.

he truly pieced it together when one night you guys were sharing some left over birthday cake. while trying to cut you a big slice, his finger accidentally dipped into the frosting. instead of grabbing a napkin to clean it up, you lifted his finger to your mouth and sucked the icing clean off. it was safe to say he was shocked. as you lips popped off his pointer finger, his pants began to tighten. he finished cutting your slice and pretended like it never happened.

tonight, you were sitting on the couch scrolling through the channels, waiting for clark to come home. he told you he would be staying late to finish up some pieces so you weren’t worried about him. after a while you gave up and put on an old romcom, one of your favorites. about 30 minutes later, the latch to the apartment door opens and clark comes in with his briefcase. he loosens his tie and takes off his loafers at the door.

“hi sweetheart,” he calls out, happy to see you all comfy on the couch in your pjs. “sorry i was so late. today was absolutely the last day to get the story turned in.”

“it’s ok clark. i understand.” you say as you push yourself up a little bit. “there’s still some pasta on the stove if want some baby.”

clark makes his way into the kitchen to inspect the pasta. “wow honey, this looks amazing.” he starts to plate himself some, then adds a little extra because he knew you’d want some bites. when he sits down next to and tries the pasta for the first time his face lights up.

“good?”

“better than good sweetheart. so did you miss me?”

you giggle, letting warmth flood your face. “maybe just a bit clark.” clark collects some pasta on his fork and raises it up to your mouth. you gladly accept the bite, your eyes never leaving his big hand. you trace the lines of his veins as he flexes his fingers around the fork. you chew and think you’d rather have something else in your mouth instead.

as his finishes his pasta, he gets up, rinses the bowl and saunters into the bedroom. minutes later he comes out in plaid pj pants, his chest bare.

“and what do i owe the pleasure clark?” you smirk, watching your boyfriends muscles contract as he makes his way over to the couch.

“my suit jackets gets so constricting during the day. it’s nice to let my body air out some.”

“sure clarkie. whatever you say.” you can’t help but smile at his coy reply as he sits down next to you. clark is hefty, and he claims this to be because of the farm work he did as a teenager, so when he sits down the couch completely molds to his body. your feet instantly find purchase in his lap, his massive hands coming to cover your ankles.

“this movie again?” complains clark, even though there really isn’t any annoyance behind it. his fingers rub circles on your ankles driving you wild.

“it’s my favorite. plus nothing else is on.”

suddenly his fingers start to trail up your calf. you pretend not to notice, but he hears the subtle change in your breathing. his well groomed fingernails lightly scratch your skin as they travel higher.

“clark,” you whisper.

“sweetheart.”

“what are you doing?”

“just enjoying my sweet girl. why, is that a problem?”

his fingers go higher and higher until his arm is completely stretched out. once he can’t reach any further he quick pulls you legs further into his lap, sliding you down the couch.

“clark!”

“sweetheart!”

“you could have just asked if you wanted me in your lap so bad.”

“where the fun in that?” clark teases.

his fingers ghost over your thin pjs shorts. they were the ones that clark bought you for your birthday last year. the ones that have the cute little hearts on them. you eyes flick back to his hand that’s now rubbing the inside of your thigh. you part your legs without even thinking about it.

“these look so cute on you, pretty girl.” clark coos. his hand slips under your shorts and starts to rub the lace that is sitting on your hip. “what color you got on underneath these, sweetheart?”

your breath hitches. usually clark isn’t this forward. “um pink.” you say shyly. you continue to watch the outline of his hand under your shorts. the fabric flows over his hand so nicely, but you wish you could see the tanned skin.

“pink? you wore pink for me sweetheart?”

your face goes a little pink. warmth is trailing up your body. even warmth is starting to settle low in your belly as he continues to play with the lace. “well.. i uh- i didn’t know we’d be doing this tonight.”

his hand stops immediately and retreats from under the fabric. “i’m sorry did i make you uncomfortable?”

“no.. no never clark. i just- usually i initiate this kind of stuff.” your face must be bright red now because clark just laughs.

“i know, but i have some things i want to try. is that ok?” he hand flexes. it makes your mouth water. you finally get the courage to nod and his hand slips under your waistband. “can i take this off pretty girl?” another nod from you urges him to light pull down your pj shorts leaving you in the pink lacy underwear.

“pink might just be my favorite color on you.” clark says, his hand drifting across your thighs teasing at the lace. “i’ve been thinking.. did you know your heart beats faster when you look at my hands?”

“my heartbeat? clark what are you talking about?”

“i can hear it.. uh speed up. drives me crazy.” he gives an awkward smile. his fingers finally dip past the lace making you shiver. “i can smell you too. right now. this is turning you on.”

you’re shocked and kinda confused at his rambling. “smell? what smell? clark, i don’t-” his fingers swipe over your damp center. “clark!” you gasp.

“smell so good. let me make you feel good. just watch my hands sweetheart.” his fingers find your clit, rubbing slow, soothing circles. he’s so precise in his movements you already start to whimper and wiggle.

“you like my hands don’t you sweetheart. i saw the way you were eyeing them today.” you nod barely being about to catch your breath from his relentless attention. one finger starts to prod at your hole, “please clark” you beg. he pulls off the pink panties, finally freeing yourself to him.

“you don’t need to beg sweetheart, you know i’ll give it to you.” his finger slowly enters, leaving time for you to adjust. somehow you can feel the roughness from inside, feeling the hard work left on his hands. he starts to pump inside of you, reaching places you never thought were possible with just one finger.

“can i add another one sweetheart?”

at a loss of words, you nod again. the stimulation from both inside and outside your pussy was enough to take you over the edge. once the second finger slips in, a moan escapes your lips.

“good girl. you sound so pretty for me.” his fingers finding a rhythm that matches the beating of your heart.

“clark, i’m close” you whisper not being able to even speak clearly. the feeling of his fingers so deep inside of you, brings you to the edge faster than you realize. his hands tearing you undone.

“so pretty, sweetheart. give it to me. i know you want to.” he eggs you on. between his voice and his fingers, you lose all strength finding your release. “clark!”

you catch your breath, heart still beating out of your chest. as he slowly removes his fingers, a string of your release connects his finger back to your pussy. when he pulls them far enough away, the string snaps, coating his fingers. he brings them up to your mouth. “open sweetheart.” he pleads.

you suck in his fingers, tasting yourself on him. you don’t know what you enjoyed more, his fingers in your mouth or pussy. maybe next time you can convince him to do both. he pops them out of your mouth and wipes them on his pj pants.

“was that ok for your sweetheart? i kinda wanted to focus on the hands since you’ve been so focused on them recently.” he leans forward pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“was i that obvious?” you ask.

“maybe just a bit sweetheart. but i notice everything about you.” he pulls you closer into his lap. his hand finds yours as you tuck yourself against his bare chest.

“clark?”

“sweetheart?”

“what did you mean by you could hear and smell me?”

clark goes ridged behind you.

“you know what, nevermind it was hot either way.”

paring: clark kent x fem!reader | word count: 1,043

PART ONE PART TWO

summary: desperate to get you out of the city, your parents sign you up you up to be a camp counselor at a sleepaway camp right outside of smallville. to your dismay, you hate the outdoors and sticky children, but someone just might convince you it's not all that bad.

a/n: hi! this is my first piece! i really enjoy camp settings and clark kent so i thought i'd give it a go. there's only one swear word so nothing too crazy right now. i thought it would be cute to do a little grumpy x sunshine between them. i hope you enjoy!

"sweetheart! this will be so good for you." your dad says. he's got both hands on the wheel and was trying to make eye contact with you in the rearview mirror. you refused to give him that. "you know i met you mother at a sleepaway camp all those years ago."

"in the middle of nowhere? some random small town so small it's called smallville?" you retort. "i mean how did you even find this place" you whine as you shuffle in your seat. your camp trunk, which used to be your fathers, digs into your side.

"i had some friends back in college from smallville. really sweet, down-to-earth people. their sons a counselor too." you can hear the smile in his voice as he starts to recount old camp memories. you can't be bothered to listen.

just great. the last thing you need is little kansas boy bossing you around here.

as the car pulls through the welcome campers! sign, dread starts to come over you. you shouldn't have been blindsided like this. you were supposed to spend the summer with you best friends, running around the city with not a care in the world, yet here you are in smallville, kansas, possibly the most welcoming town ever. your dad puts the car in park and loads out your trunk. "ok sweetheart, do you have everything? all your clothes, sunscreen, bathing suits?"

you sigh, "basically everything except my dignity dad." you take the truck from him, give him a big hug, then drag it all the way over to the check in table. the cheerful lady at the table hands you your counselor lanyard and keys to your cabin.

"cabin 13 is on the right past the mess hall. most of the time we like to spilt the boys and girls into separate cabins, but we have an uneven amount this summer. since you signed up so late, i think you might have a boy staying with you." she must have noticed your face go pale. "honey will that be alright?" you swallow, "it's fine, wonderful even." you take the keys and hightail to the cabin as fast as possible.

it was not fine. it was not wonderful. you had to share with a boy. probably a gross, smelly boy that snored and never showered. this was the worst thing that could have ever happened to you. as you enter the cabin, its completely empty. both beds are neatly made and unclaimed. you take the bed closest to the bathroom. as you start to unpack, reality sets in. you are actually here for 6 weeks. you have to manage children and eat mess hall food and share a cabin with a boy. and on top of all that, camp smallville is almost completely off the grid. no tvs, no phone calls, the only way you could reach the outside world was through letters. charming for some, a nightmare for you. you think back to your dad saying camp was always like the "good ole days" and that it stayed untouched by "technology and hardship". you heavily disagree. this was probably going to be the hardest 6 weeks of your life.

after you unpack, still no boyish roommate in sight, you head to the mess hall where you were told a counselor meeting was taking place before the campers arrived tomorrow. you were the last one to show up.

so much for making a good impression.

inside, about 26 counselors are hugging and catching up, talking about what they missed since last summer. the ages seemed to range from 19 to 23, so all college students coming back after long year of studying. what you wouldn't give to be in your college town right now instead of being here, a dirty mess hall where you are the only non-returning camp counselor.

The meeting goes by fast, and no one forces you to introduce yourself, so you take that as a win. just as you're trying to slide out the mess hall, a sweet voice interrupts.

"excuse me? are you the new girl?"

you slowly turn around, wincing like you've been caught. "maybe, depends on who's asking" once you make eye contact, your breath catches. he was almost handsome, actually really handsome. he had a sturdy build, which you could appreciate, and the most perfect messy hair.

"uh clark kent," he reaches out to shake my hand. "i didn't mean to scare you, but uh i help train the new counselors, so i thought i'd introduce myself."

you stare at him for an awfully long time. kent. kent. where have you heard that name before? then it hits you, your dad's friend's son. oh my god this is him? he isn't small at all. he's actually quite the opposite.

you don't how long you were staring, but it was obviously long enough for him to drop his hand. he awkwardly rubs his hands on his gym shorts, almost embarrassed you never shook his hand. "well if you have any questions tonight, i'm in cabin 13."

your jaw drops even wider. "13?" you stammer. you look like a bus hit you.

"i mean, i haven't unpacked yet so i'll be busy tonight, but yeah cabin 13 if you need anything." he pulls a baseball cap on and flashes a sweet smile. "can i get you name?"

still ogling him, you tell him your name. "well it's nice to meet you, i hope to see you tomorrow" he walks off towards your shared cabin. you stay frozen in place for a moment. your bunk mate is clark kent.

he definitely looks farm fed, you think. after a few minutes your feet start to move, carrying you towards cabin 13. everything will be fine. you'll get along nicely, hopefully. as you push open the door you find clark's 2 trunks stacked neatly by his bed by the window. everything will be fine, you remind yourself. the thought was broken by the sound of the bathroom door opening. out steps clark, only covered by a small towel. you eyes catch down his abs, then back up to his filled-out arms.