Jul 7
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ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴇʀ'ꜱ ᴇᴅɢᴇ
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ : dustin loves camping with his mom—it's been their tradition for years. but this summer, he's bringing someone new: you. this lakeside trip offers something rare and precious—space to just be together. and for the first time, you'll fall asleep side by side, a kind of closeness you've both been craving.
ᴄᴡ / ᴛᴀɢꜱ : intense kissing , body image issues , dustin's canon physical body appearance , cuddling , a single suggestive movement
ɢᴇɴʀᴇ : fluff !!!
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄɴᴛ. : 3.9k (sorry)
ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ : i'm most likely going to continue writing for dustin, as he's so underrated and doesn't have nearly enough fics written for him. so please, my requests are open!! and of course, enjoy.
The car is loaded full of blankets, campfire necessities, and snacks for the trip ahead. Dustin usually sits in the passenger seat next to his mom, but since you're here this time, he's sitting in the back with you. The song 'Heroes' hums from the radio, and soft raindrops land on the windows, creating a cozy atmosphere for the two of you.
It’s the summer after the school year, so it’s granted you two more availability to hangout– to really have some space away from Hawkins and all of the chaos– but better yet, together.
Dustin’s sat next to the window, allowing you to lay against him. He spins his finger through your hair, looping the strands around it like spaghetti on a fork. He loves doing this. He does it every time he gets the chance to. With his other hand, his fingers are interlocked with yours, but of course Dustin’s trying to respect the fact that his mom is sitting 3 feet away from you guys– so he stops himself from kissing you.
The raindrops smashing against the window act like a spell to cast you to sleep, and unfortunately, it works. You find yourself drooping into Dustin, your head landing onto his lap in search of comfort. But of course, he doesn’t mind. He runs his fingers through your hair, soothing you to sleep.
With sleepy eyes, you slowly blink up at him, memorizing his features. The rain droplets on the window cast a unique, textured shadow on his face, and his soft smile looking back at you gives you a nice feeling of relaxation.
Without thinking, your hand reaches out to him, touching his face softly. You drag your index finger around his face, tracing the outline. Dustin’s face becomes flustered– his eyes widening and his mouth slightly ajar. When your finger finds its way to his lips, you bring your entire hand up to cup his face. Your thumb slightly brushes over his bottom lip, causing his eyebrows to raise and his smile to grow.
As tired as you are, you manage a soft smile back at him before dropping your hand to rest on your chest. He grabs ahold of it softly, biting the inside of his cheek to try to stop himself from smiling. Before you know it, your eyes betray you by closing, setting your body to sleep.
Once you're asleep, Dustin continues to softly run his fingers through your hair. He sits there, admiring your features, taking it all in as if you're a sunset that will disappear within the next hour. But he's found himself quite tired too—so soon after, he leans his head against the window and closes his eyes. His fingers stay tangled in your hair, and his other hand limply holds onto yours.
────୨ৎ────
Ms. Henderson pulls into a campsite surrounded by tall pine trees, their branches swaying gently overhead. The scent of wildflowers drifts through the air, and just a few meters away, the lake's surface ripples with gentle waves. You and Dustin must have slept through the entire long, bumpy ride because you aren’t woken until Ms. Henderson's voice pulls you back to consciousness.
"Wake up, sweethearts," she calls softly, glancing over her shoulder. Her curls bounce with the movement. She reaches back with one hand, her finger gently poking Dustin's knee.
His body jerks. A low groan escapes him as he squeezes his eyes shut tighter, fighting against waking. "Mom..." he mumbles, the word barely coherent.
The sudden movement stirs you awake. Your legs stretch out slowly, and your arms rise instinctively—only for your hand to accidentally poke him in the face.
Dustin jerks again, his eyes finally fluttering open.
"Oh gosh—I'm so sorry!" you say, your head still resting on his lap.
He looks down at you, one eye squinting shut against the light. A tired smile tugs at his lips. "It's okay."
“Are you two ready to set up camp?” Ms. Henderson's soft voice is enough to snap you back to reality.
You spring up, your face grazing by Dustins as you sit up. “Yup–yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.” Your legs swing back into place, as you adjust yourself next to Dustin. His hand finds its way to your leg, as it rests on your thigh.
“So ready.” Dustin says to his mom, giving her a light smile.
Ms. Henderson gets out of the car, leaving you and Dustin more time to wake your bodies. He squeezes your thigh before opening the door and getting out of the car. He holds the door open for you. “Here you are, m’lady.” He jokes, but his voice is laced with sweetness.
You smile at him from inside the car, and lean your body out of the seat. With the car door in between your bodies, you lean over the top of it, leaving a small kiss on his lips. “Thank you, good sir.” You smile back at him before turning back to help Ms. Henderson who’s at the trunk. Dustin’s face heats up, taken aback by the sudden kiss.
Within 15 minutes, the three of you unload the car piece by piece—blankets tucked under arms, coolers dragged across the dirt, tent poles clattering as Dustin drops them onto the ground. Ms. Henderson surveys the campsite, pointing to a flat patch of ground near a circle of stones—an old fire pit left behind by previous campers—and you all get to work. Dustin unfolds the tent instructions, understanding it as if it was a children's book. He’s always been smart like that. After several minutes, the tent stands tall and sturdy. You toss pillows and blankets inside the tent while Ms. Henderson arranges the cooler and camp chairs nearby, then starts placing kindling in the fire pit, preparing for the evening ahead.
────୨ৎ────
A few hours pass as you and the Hendersons sit around the glowing campfire, telling stories as your laughter echoes through the forest. The sun begins to set, and the chill starts to creep in. You glance back at the lake, your eyes linger long enough for Dustin to notice.
“Do you want to swim?” Dustin questions.
Your eyes find his. “Maybe.”
He laughs softly, “I’ll get my swimtrunks on.”
A smile grows on your face as you watch him get up from his chair and disappear into the tent behind you. The fire in front of you cracks and pops whilst the flame sits in between you and Ms. Henderson.
“Thank you for having me, Ms. Henderson.” You say softly.
“Oh, sweetie. You can call me Claudia. I’ve known you too long for all that proper stuff.” She chuckles sweetly, “and I’m glad you agreed to come, Y/N.”
You two continue to talk, awaiting Dustin's arrival. Before too long, you hear the rustle of the tent and the zipper unzipping. You look back, watching Dustin step out. His long curls drape over his bare shoulders, and his maroon trunks sit nicely on his hips, highlighting his pinkish cheeks. You smile at his cuteness—his soft, round stomach, his full cheeks, the gentle curves of his body. His biceps carry an equal mix of muscle and softness, and there's a warmth to the way he carries himself. God. You love this boy.
You smile at him, waving at him softly with your hand close to your chest. He waves back, an unclear smile appearing on his face. You rise from your chair and step toward him, your heart picking up pace. Standing in front of him, you reach for both of his hands, intertwining your fingers with his.
You whisper softly, “Guess it’s my turn.” You lean in, pressing your lips softly against his. He leans into it, fighting the urge to deepen it right then and there. Before he manages to escalate the kiss, you step backwards into the tent with a teasing smile on your face. He bites his lip, your taste lingering. Your hands slip from his as you reach for the zipper, watching his figure blur and disappear as you seal yourself inside for privacy.
Rummaging through your bag, you find your swimsuit. It's a warm red color that complements your skin tone and hugs your body in all the right places. You slip it on slowly, adjusting the straps, smoothing the fabric over your hips. But as you catch a glimpse of yourself, your stomach tightens. You run your hands over your sides, your arms, second-guessing every inch. It's not that you don't like how you look—you love your body—but showing Dustin feels different. More vulnerable.
You know he'd look at you the way he always does—like you're the only person in the world. But you can’t help the nerves, as your shaky hands reach for the zipper. You hesitate, fingers hovering over the cold metal piece. Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes for a moment, clearing your head. Then, swallowing your fears, you pull the zipper up, exposing your body to the light outside.
And there he is. Dustin. Standing right outside the tent—like he was waiting for you. His head swings toward you, his curls bouncing just like his mother's. You peer your head through the open slit of the tent, your body still hidden behind the flimsy fabric door, which makes him smile. And suddenly, the feeling of fear comes back up. You haven't fully stepped outside—in fact, you're very much still inside, lingering at the threshold. You shake your head slightly and curve your lips downward, trying to communicate with him through actions rather than words.
His smile instantly drops, and without hesitation he reaches to grab the tent door from you. Startled, you bounce away from the entrance. You stand by yourself, hands instinctively moving to caress your arms, making a quiet effort to cover yourself.
Dustin, who’s still outside, glances back at his mom, who's nose-deep in a book, and slips into the tent before she notices. When he steps inside, his eyes find yours immediately. He keeps them there—on your face—even though it takes effort to not glance down at your body.
“What’s wrong?” his voice comes out soft, almost like a whisper.
You avoid his eyes and shrug.
“I know something's wrong– if you were okay you’d–you’d come out and.. give me a smile or– y’know..” Dustin's voice wavers, his voice laced with worry.
You try to get the words out, but your throat tightens and your mouth goes dry. Another shrug is all you can manage.
Dustin’s face falls when he realizes. He hesitates for just a moment before stepping closer, closing the gap between your bodies, taking you in for a warm, comforting hug. His arms are wrapped around you– warm and solid and safe.
“It’s okay. I get it now– I get it.” he pauses before continuing, “It’s okay, I’m here. And I’ll be the only one to see your gorgeous body.”
You melt into him instantly. Crazy how he could read you so well. One hand finds its way into his curls while the other grips his shoulder tightly– close enough to hear his thumping heartbeat. Your face presses against his bare skin, and you feel a familiar burning behind your eyes; the tears that threaten to spill.
"You're beautiful," he murmurs into your hair, his voice quiet but certain. "I mean it."
You bite your lip to contain the tears, as that one simple– but oh so comforting– comment made it much harder to do so. The two of you stand there, swaying slightly. He doesn't rush you. His hand moves slowly up and down your back, patient and steady, waiting for you to be ready—giving you all the time you need.
You pull back from him, still avoiding his gaze. He notices your teary eyes and brings a hand up to your face, cupping your cheek. His thumb gently wipes away a forming tear. His palm is soft, though the ends of his fingertips carry the usual calluses from his engineering projects.
With little time to react, he pulls you into a kiss. The kiss is soft at first—reassuring—until he tilts his head to the right– to the left– deepening the kiss. His other hand settles at the back of your neck, easing your mouth open to allow his tongue to slightly brush your lip. You allow his access, letting your tongues brush against each other. He uses the force of his hands to grab your body closer to his, the skin to skin contact being almost too much–
His kisses leave your mouth, and start to trail down your neck. He nips at your soft skin, both of his hands gripping your shoulders. His head continues to trail down– stopping at your chest. He starts to suckle on your chest, the tickle sending a shiver down your body. Your hands rustle through his curls as he continues downwards– he slowly kneels onto the ground. His hands now caress over your ass and hips, as he kisses around your stomach and thighs.
He looks up at you. “You’re beautiful.” His voice was low, almost seductive.
Your face flushes, warmth creeping up into your cheeks. You look away, bringing your hands up to cover your face in embarrassment. His soft laugh escapes through your fingers, warm and affectionate.
“I mean it," he says, gently pulling your hands away so he can see you. His eyes are so sincere it makes your chest ache.
Then, with a playful grin breaking through his tenderness, he scoops one arm around the back of your knees and the other under your shoulders, lifting you up bridal style as he stands. You let out a surprised laugh, gripping his shoulders for balance.
He puckers his lip– a joking way to ask for a kiss– and you give in, landing a small, quick kiss on his lips.
“Shall we go swim, m’lady?” he articulates the last part, tucking your body closer to his.
“I’d love to.” you say with a soft laugh.
He carries you like this outside of the tent, towards the water. He easily holds your weight, keeping you sturdy in the air. The effortless action from him comforts you in all the right ways.
After his feet reach the edge of the water, he places you down softly. Your feet sink into the damp mud below you, which frankly– feels a bit odd. You both stand next to each other–side by side– and look out onto the landscape. The sun that continues to set reflects off of the water, and the mountains in the back create a gorgeous scene.
Dustin elbows you, breaking the silence. His voice was as low as a whisper, “Almost as pretty as you.”
“Dustin–” He cuts you off, grabbing you by your hand as he runs into the water.
You stumble after him, laughing and protesting, but he's determined. His grip is firm but gentle, pulling you forward as his feet splash into the shallows. The first touch of water against your ankles is shockingly cold, making you gasp and try to pull back, but Dustin just grins over his shoulder—mischievous and bright—and tugs you deeper. The lake rises to your knees, then your thighs, each step sending a fresh wave of cold up your body. You shriek and grip his hand tighter, half trying to escape and half letting him lead you further in. When the water reaches your waist, you finally stop resisting.
Dustin turns to face you, his curls dripping, his smile wide and triumphant. "See?" he says, breathless. "Not so bad."
You roll your eyes before flicking some water into his face. “Not so bad, huh?” you tease, mockingly.
He scoffs, laughing along with you. “Oh, you really wanna play that game?”
He splashes you with the icy cold water– straight into your face. You gasp sharply as the water drips from your face and the front pieces of your hair. “Dustin–!”
His laugh slows as his hands find your waist under the water, his warmth radiating from his palms. From there, he pulls you deeper under the water until it reaches your collar bones. You swing your arms around his neck, your body close to his in search of warmth. His forehead rests against yours for a moment and his damp curls tickle your arms.
“It’s– so cold–” You say in between teeth chatters.
He hums in response, twirling your body around lightly in the water. “It’s okay, I’ll warm you up later. In bed.”
“Later–? Bed?” Your voice pitch changes at the realization, “I thought we weren’t allowed to share a–”
“My mom said we could. Just for tonight– I mean. There’s only one tent, so I mean she’d be with us– but– I thought it’d be nice.” Dustin says, his face flushing.
You smile at him, your eyes locked as the water swirls around your bodies. “It’s perfect.”
Your lips find each other once again, a light pressure pushed up against your lips. When you part, you surprise him with another splash– which he follows up with soon after. The moment becomes a fight of the water, until you both are soaked and freezing.
────୨ৎ────
After a light hour of swimming, the sun is fully set. The stars shine bright above your heads, and the campfire’s smoke fills the air. Ms. Henderson calls you two to dry up, which you promptly do. You both change into more suitable clothes; a layered shirt for protection from the cold and fuzzy, cotton pants.
You three gather at the campfire one last time for the night, the campfire cracking as stories and conversations roll off your tongues. You roast hotdogs– a fulfilling meal after your workout under water.
But of course, s’mores follow after. Dustin prefers his marshmallow extra burnt, with a chocolate slab slipped into the middle. You both argue whose creation is better, (even though they taste the same) which Mrs. Henderson settles by trying each of them, but ultimately crowning yours as the tastier one.
Dustin groans, saying that the voting was rigged and biased. But deep down, he knows yours was better.
After Ms. Henderson tells a few stories of her past, she decides it’s about time for bed. The stars shine brighter than before, and the moon's light peers through the dark clouds above.
Leading into the tent, Ms. Henderson creates her own bed consisting of a few layers of blankets to comfort her from the ground floor, and a single pillow. You and Dustin create your own shared bed, consisting of nearly the same things as hers, except with two pillows instead of one. The two “beds” are on opposite sides of the tent, which Dustin prays is enough space to allow him to cuddle up to you without getting caught.
All three of you lay comfortably in your creations, looking up at the ceiling of the tent.
Ms. Henderson, who’s already in bed, clicks the single lamp off. “Goodnight, sweethearts. Don’t get too close tonight.” She giggles softly.
Dustin groans into his palms, still laying on his back. You can faintly hear the shuffle of Ms. Henderson as she finds a comfortable position.
After a few long– and painful– moments, she finally stops moving. Only the moonlight is left to light up the space, creating a cold glow on the sides of the tent. Both you and Dustin are too nervous to move closer to one another, worried that Ms. Henderson will call you out.
As you lay on your backs, Dustin creeps his pinkie closer to yours. His palm glides over the top of your hand before his fingers find their way to intertwine with yours. His touch is warm and sure, and just this simple contact hitches your breath.
You lay there for a few moments, his thumb tracing slow circles over your knuckle. But it's not enough. You crave to be pressed up against him—to feel his body's warmth against yours, to hear his heartbeat, to match the pace of his breathing, to hold onto him. So in one swift motion, you roll onto your side, facing him, and rest an arm across his chest. He holds his breath for a moment, glancing toward his mother.
When silence follows, he finally exhales. His body relaxes beneath you, and you settle your head on his bicep while his other hand comes to rest on top of yours against his chest. You can feel his heartbeat now—steady and strong beneath your palm. His thumb begins tracing gentle patterns over your knuckles again, a mindless gesture that makes you feel safe. The scent of lake water and sunscreen clings to his skin, mixed with something that's just distinctly him. His breathing slowly syncs with yours, rising and falling in the same rhythm. Every so often, he tilts his head slightly to press a kiss to your temple or forehead—soft, unhurried touches that say everything words can't. His fingers occasionally drift up to play with strands of your hair, twirling them the way he always does. At this moment, nothing else exists. Just you, just him, just this.
After a few sweet moments, he shifts. He slides his arm out from under your head and repositions himself, rolling onto his side to face you. His arm wraps around your waist now, pulling you closer, while his other hand settles at the small of your back. He nestles his face against your chest, finding comfort– a pillow he could die for.
You smile at this new position—it allows you to play with his hair for a change. Your fingers thread through his curls, gently scratching at his scalp the way you know he loves. He hums contentedly, relaxing further into you. Then his leg shifts, sliding between yours and creating a pleasant friction that makes you hum softly in response.
Dustin's face lifts immediately from your chest, his eyes widening as they meet yours. His cheeks flush a deep pink, somewhere between embarrassed and something else that you can’t yet read.
“Sorry–” he whispers out, but a slight smile lingers on his face before his face finds its way back into your chest.
You bite your lip, pushing down the thoughts threatening to surface. Instead, you let yourself melt into his touch. His hand softly scratches your back, moving in sync with your fingers playing through his hair. The gentle rhythm soothes you, pulling you toward sleep faster than you'd like. Your eyelids grow heavy, and as consciousness begins to slip away, one last thought drifts through your mind: you wish you could be this close to him every night—
“I love you.” a whisper escapes your lips.
Dustin’s response was slightly muffled, but still clear, “I love you too.”
His arms tighten around you just slightly, pulling you impossibly closer. You feel his breathing begin to slow and deepen, his chest rising and falling against your stomach in a steady rhythm. Your hand stills in his hair, fingers tangled gently in his curls, too tired to continue. His hand on your back settles into place, similarly to yours. The sounds of the campsite fades—the distant crackling of the fire, the gentle lap of the lake against the shore, even Ms. Henderson's quiet movements. All that remains is Dustin's heartbeat against you and the warmth of his body wrapped around yours.
After a few swift moments, you two find time to drift off to sleep.
But this time, together.
hope you enjoyed <3 reqs open
Omegaverse Rabbot/Huckleabbot!!
Robby and Jack have been spending their heats/ruts together for years, but that's it. No courting, no dating. Even though they both desperately want to.
Jack was mated before, and he was so miserable after his omega died that Robby figured he would never want to again. So he built walls up to stop himself from having fruitless hope. Jack, however, would love to start a courtship with Robby, but he's made it clear he doesn't want anything other than casual, so Jack licks his wounds and takes what he can get.
Robby occasionally dates betas. As much as Jack hates it he can handle it, Robby's made his desires clear. One time he dated an alpha and Jack avoided him outside of work until they broke up. Thank God it lasted less than a month.
Jack doesn't date anyone, and though Robby is selfishly grateful, it also reinforces the idea that Jack will never mate again :(
This needlessly painful cycle goes uninterrupted for nearly a decade before a wrench gets thrown in.
Robby's doing the most boring part of his job, approving leave time, when he sees something that makes his heart drop.
Emergency Request: Jack Abbot - Heat Partner
He has the start date listed as tomorrow.
It's inappropriate, but Robby calls Jack on instinct.
"Sorry," he says. "I know it's late notice, but he's really desperate. Said the last five have been by himself, it's getting dangerous."
Robby has no choice but to approve. He spends the days Jack is with this mystery omega, moping around the ED. As if this wasn't bad enough, his favorite protégé is missing too. He asks Santos if he's sick. She looks at him funny.
"You approved his leave."
Robby doesn't remember that. "Is he on vacation?" He must have put the request in a while ago.
Santos laughs. "No, but I'm sure he's enjoying himself."
It takes a minute to click, and when it does, Robby's stomach sinks. No. There's no way. It's a coincidence. There's thousands of omegas in the city, surely there's bound to be some overlap.
But four days later, Whitaker walks in looking brighter than ever. Happy, healthy, and smelling like Robby's alpha.
He doesn't bring it up, obviously, that would be crossing professional boundaries, even he isn't willing to. But he does make an effort to interact with Whitaker as little as possible. Not that he notices. He's too busy whispering to Santos and Javadi with a pretty pink blush on his face.
Fuck Whitaker is perfect.
He's small, but not dainty. Jack's never liked omegas that were too tiny. His arms are thin and strong. Robby's broad shoulders rival an alpha's with no such definition to justify their size. He seems mostly hairless, unlike Robby, who gave up on shaving his body in his late 20's. Robby scratches at his beard in the mirror; he could've taken care of that at least. He pinches his soft belly. Whitaker's is surely taut and muscled like the rest of him, it'll swell so beautifully when he's pregnant.
Robby's going to be sick. Whitaker is in the prime of his fertile years and he has a maximum of five heats left before he loses Jack forever.
Jack doesn't act any differently. The next time Robby sees him, there's the faint remnants of Whitaker's scent on him, but it's dull enough that Robby can pretend it's just from working together.
Until he notices Jack coming in to the shift changes earlier. It's not entirely unusual. He hates being home alone. But usually, Robby is the first person he finds. Recently, Robby has spotted him leaning over the counter, distracting Whitaker from his charting with a chat or worse, food.
One day, Robby comes in early himself, and they get the handoff done relatively quickly, but Jack still hangs around. Robby spots him through a window, waiting in Whitaker's usual spot. When the other omega comes in, Jack beams. He takes his jacket off, and Whitaker gladly accepts, pulling it on and tucking his nose into the collar.
Robby bites his lip to suppress a humiliating whine. It looks like his last five heats just dropped to zero. Even if Jack was still willing to help him, Robby wouldn't accept the offer. He'd spend his whole heat wondering if his alpha was thinking of someone else.
He lowers his head and focuses on the work. He'll deal with this on his own. Like always.
You had always had body image issues. People loved making little comments all of the time about what you ate, how clothes fit you, and how you were always somehow "too big."
You met Kyle at the gym, surprised that a muscular man would be interested in a dance class. He also knew every step of the routine, fluidly going along with the class even as he broke a sweat. You weren't sure if he asked you out because you stared at him half of the class, or because he still found you attractive drenched in sweat and heavy breathing; but he did.
You knew he loved you. He told you every day in multiple ways, and everyone could see how much he cared for you. But years of self-doubt could not be taken away with a few years of love.
"Love, why are you looking at yourself like that?" Kyle asks as he does his tie, watching you study your outfit in the mirror. You jump slightly, turning to him with a horribly veiled nervous expression.
"I'm just making sure there isn't a stain on anything. I haven't worn this in a while." You lie, squirming when Kyle fixes you with a skeptical gaze. He knows you're lying, letting you stew in silence until you finally tell him the truth. "Do you think I'm good enough for you? Physically?" You ask bluntly, your face feeling hot.
Kyle's face falls, eyes widening a little at your words as he closes the gap between the two of you. "Have I said anything to make you feel bad, baby?" Kyle asks sincerely, watching you shake your head.
"No. No, I would've said something, I promise." You assure him as you pull him close and kiss his nose. "I just... Sometimes, I compare our bodies. I know I shouldn't, but I just don't know what you see in me." You explain quietly as Kyle wraps his arms around your waist.
"The differences between us are what drew me to you!" Kyle insists as he lowers his forehead to yours. "Everything about you makes me so happy. You challenge me, and you push me to try all kinds of new stuff. You remembered that I'm allergic to strawberries when I mentioned it on our first date." Kyle explains as he kisses you softly.
"You have to slow down when you hike with me." You point out, ready to continue your spiraling negative thoughts.
"And because of that, I'm seeing the nature of trails ove walked hundreds of times. I've always been in such a hurry, so busy to keep active. You remind me to slow down and to rest." Kyle cuts you off, grinning at you. "Besides, you kicked my ass in that small weights class last week."
You burst into giggle as you lean into him and kiss the corner of his mouth. "I'm a free man, Y/N. If I didn't want to be here, I wouldn't be." Kyle assures, squeezing your bottom with a quiet groan. "Sweet stuff aside, I also love this ass." He sighs, smacking a palm down to watch your cheeks jiggle.
"Kyle!" You squeal, giggling into his shoulder as he lands another on the opposite cheek.
Hi! I'm not sure if the inbox monster devoured my request 😅🫣 but would you write something for bucky & petite/thin reader with body image issues? She feels awful for not having any curves, getting always told "she needs to put some meat on her bones", and just not feeling womanly at all. Just need all the angst, hurt, comfort, FEELS from bucky reassuring her 😭 thx & sorry for requesting again
You learn early how to fold yourself smaller.
Not physically, you’re already small enough for everyone’s commentary, but emotionally. You tuck your shoulders in, keep your arms crossed, laugh when people say it, roll your eyes like it doesn’t sting.
You need to eat a burger. You’re all bones. Men like something to grab onto, sweetheart.
They don’t say it with malice most of the time. That almost makes it worse.
“(even ignoring the fact that will probably also has some body issue stuff… that might be fun to explore but at a later time…)”
pls speak your truth on this i’m enjoying reading the mack soft tummy agenda but im also curious about beautiful princess wsh and his issues
mostly this idea stems from the fact that will was in the ntdp… that place is like hockey prison from what i’ve read
like, there’s a willgabeleno interview from their time with the ntdp where the last(?) question was “who eats the healthiest” and will was kind of offended when there was implications that it wasn’t him and how the ntdp had them like, counting grapes (there’s a lot here but the whole food section of this is very telling… highly recommend j’s ntdp stuff if you’re ever curious)… ive also heard* tell of a clip where will says at team dinners he waits until other guys have ordered to see what’s “okay” to get
there’s also the whole struggling to bulk discussion… this interview from before his debut talking about how he had to change his whole diet in order to start bulking…
and then like,,, a lot of his walk-in fits tend to sway baggier? like not necessarily in a bad way but i’m thinking about that sweatshirt fit on his first game back from ir, the thick plaid zip-up that we were all theorizing mack bought his houndstooth jacket at the same time… like obviously he has his suit moments his fitted pants moments, but something about the baggy fits just rings a little bell in my brain, all the wide-legged pants and the thick jackets…
and lastly, i know we kind of say it as a joke, but we haven’t seen will shirtless since his post-summer dump? like we say “macklin never-nude celebrini” but we’ve seen mack tarps-off THREE TIMES this season already and not that it’s a competition, but not ONCE have we seen will tarps off since the season started…
so idk… i’m also not a psychologist/psychiatrist or anyone particularly well-versed in this, just someone who deals with their own body issues and thinks way too much about will smith hockey
if I loose like ten more pounds my life would be perfect tbh