#both of these guys just. huh. those are Names certainly

[maruflix]

  — ★ 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇

☆ — “STOP THIS NONSENSE AND MAYBE I’LL LET YOU TAKE ME OUT ON A DATE, HOW ABOUT THAT?”

FROM THIS ASK

SYNOPSIS : Spending all your waking hours surrounded by rowdy boys in the biggest dojo in town, it’s no surprise that you grow up to be a skilled fighter with a fiery personality to match (you suppose it is one of your charms). You are the tempest incarnate, a force to be reckoned with — and Takiishi Chika can’t help but get swallowed up in your storm. FEATURING : Takiishi Chika x f!reader CONTENT : 3.6k words, badass!reader, chika can’t express himself, endo gets beat up (again), enemies to lovers, soft chika ftw, pining, jealous chika, things escalate quickly, slightly suggestive but you know i can’t write smut so i don’t, reader is both physically and mentally badass

“A challenger? What the fuck does that even mean?”

Nights at the dojo are spent by sitting on the floors, doing cooldowns and chatting about whatever interesting gossip circulates around the town. Tonight is no exception— you’re sitting cross legged on the mat that carpets your family dojo with your friends stretching not far away from you.

Sakura Haruka is the first one to answer, his eyes shining in excitement, “So one of our seniors heard that we train at your dojo, and somehow the news got to two real scary seniors! Their names are Takiishi Chika and Endo Yamato.”

“They’re bad news, really. Always out looking for a fight with anyone to scratch a weird fighting itch, I guess? They’re real delinquents.” Those words are harsh, especially when they came from the gentlest, kindest guy you knew, Umemiya Hajiime.

“Anyway, we just heard it from a friend of a friend. It might be a hoax for all we know.” Suo Hayato pipes up from behind you, massaging your tense shoulders with the ease of a seasoned masseur.

Your arched eyebrows have now relaxed thanks to Suo’s expert hands, but a slight annoyance is still visible on your features. “Well damn, I didn’t realize we’re living in the world of Tekken Chinmi. What, are they gonna destroy my place and steal the secret dojo technique if they win?”

“Huh? You have a secret technique?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s joking, Sakura…” At Nirei’s reply, Sakura’s face turned beet red. You laugh boisterously as the poor boy fumbles with his blue belt.

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure the old man won’t let me kick their asses if they really do come.” You are unable to mask your disappointment and your friends’ expressions start to turn into worried ones.

“(Y/N)...” Umemiya warns, “Whatever you’re thinking in that head of yours, stop. They’re actually really strong.”

“As strong as you?” Smirking, you take a jab at him, to which he barely dodged. Even though he may not look like it, you’ve experienced first hand how strong Umemiya is in a fight. Belt rankings sometimes don’t mean a thing when it comes to real fighting, and Umemiya is a surprisingly seasoned fighter. (The current record is 11-10, but you’re aiming to get it to a 11-11 at least by the end of this month.)

“One of them is too emotional and reckless, but the other one?” Umemiya trails off, as if thinking about something from long ago, “He’s crazy strong.”

You raise an eyebrow, now thoroughly interested. Umemiya Hajime with his pretty face and eerie calmness is a real pain in the ass to fight during kumite, being one of the only guys in the dojo to actually beat you, who have been training since you were a toddler. So for that kind of guy to say that someone is ‘crazy strong’? It certainly rouses your curiosity.

“Anyway, why are you guys not heading home already?”

Like a cue, the doors are slammed open, the chilly night wind invading the warm dojo air. You shiver involuntarily as the cool breeze tickles the part of your neck that is not covered by your gi. Everyone turns their head to look at the visitor, and they certainly have mixed reactions.

Sakura and Nirei let out a full gasp. Suo stays silent, even though his eyes are bulging out from his skull. Umemiya growls, a displeased scowl on his face. You, on the other hand, are puzzled upon seeing a boy with messy black hair standing at the door. A loose black yukata envelops his muscular body that is covered with tattoos, and his blue eyes are locked on you.

“Hey, can I help you?” You wanted to cuss him out for not immediately closing the door, but your father has always told you to be kind to potential customers. So you roll your eyes, bite back your ‘fuck you’s, and ask him in the most sarcastic tone possible: “And can you close the door, please? It’s literally November.”

The boy’s lips twist up to form a cheshire grin as he studies you, ignoring the four glares that are directed at him. “You’re the owner of this dojo, yeah?”

You roll your eyes again. “Too bad for me, my old man’s still alive and kickin’. And too bad for you, he’s out right now. What business do you have with him?”

He chuckles, a low tone that definitely spells trouble. “Nah, it’s you I have business with. That belt of yours, is it real or is it just for decoration?”

Your eyes glance down at the two-striped black belt that hugs your waist snugly. You have worked your ass off to get to where you are, all the blood, sweat, and tears that carried you from a white belt to an officially recognized nidan— not just a black belt, but a black belt of the second degree. It’s fairly new, too, the excitement that you got from receiving it a week ago is still not completely gone.

“What’s it to you?”

Your friends tense up next to you. They’ve seen you try not to stir up a fight, but with the way the situation is progressing…

“(Y/N), this is one of the seniors we were talking about.” Nirei whispers in a pleading tone, hoping to calm you down. It only riles you up.

“Oh, nothing. I seem to have exhausted all the fighters in town and I remembered that there’s still one place I haven’t gone to. Maybe my opponent won’t disappoint me this time?” The challenge is clear in his voice. With every step he takes, your eyes only narrow even further. You are now standing face to face with him, looking at him squarely in the eye, like two tigers sizing up each other.

“If you’re looking for a fight, I suggest you do it elsewhere. This is no place for your egotistical, frivolous hobby.” Despite the itch in your arms to deliver a blow straight to his smirking face, you still try to honor your father’s wishes not to start petty fights, especially not in the dojo.

“Oooh, you scared? Wanna call daddy? But I bet I’d beat him up too.”

There is a deafening silence. Even with all the playful banter, a normal human being should know that there are some lines that you cannot cross. But the damn idiot took a big stride across the fucking line. Your friends are watching mutely with mouths hanging open as your last strand of patience finally snaps.

Oooh. He is so gonna get it. 

“Is that so? Very well, you started it. Don’t go crying to mommy when you lose.”

He’s visibly pleased to see that he’s successfully angered you. “Endo Yamato, by the way.”

“Boy, you won’t even remember your name by the time I’m done with you.”

And with that, you grab fistfuls of his black yukata and knee him straight in the gut.

Takiishi Chika isn’t sure what to think when Endo Yamato limps to him that afternoon, lip cut and cheeks bruised. He knows that for all the bullshit Endo spews out he would certainly get into real trouble someday, but he has always thought that Endo is not that bad of a fighter. A bad judge of character, yes, but not a bad fighter.

So why is he clutching his right arm and wincing in pain like he’s just got back from war?

“... what happened to you?”

Endo stops in front of him and winces again as he looks down at his arm. It is now sporting a bluish-purple bruise. He can’t even stand straight because his stomach is still pulsing uncomfortably. “That damned girl…”

“Girl?”

“From the damned dojo… the one I told you about yesterday…”

Takiishi hums in acknowledgement, recalling the same dojo Endo has been blabbing excitedly about. ‘Apparently,’ he had said, ‘it’s where the Furin guys go. And get this, get this, they practice with the owner’s daughter! Ha!’ he had snorted, ‘Bet I can beat her up in less than ten seconds, what a joke.’

Warily, Takiishi sweeps his gaze over Endo. The minor cuts on his face are probably from a sharp nail. The bleeding lip, a punch? The bruises are most probably from powerful punches. The way he is limping like that, he definitely got his footing sweeped. He blinks when Endo hunches over more; yup, definitely kneed in the gut. What a joke.

“Stronger than Umemiya?”

“More or less the same… I think.”

Takiishi has guessed as much, with the way Endo is struggling to speak. He doesn’t really care about avenging Endo, the weakling blabbermouth, but this girl he is speaking of is certainly interesting. He can feel his heart thrum in excitement. A girl as strong as Umemiya Hajime? Now that’s someone he should definitely meet.

“Aw, I missed all the fun stuff!” Hiragi Toma groans, holding his head in his hands. Your four friends have made it their life mission to tell the world about the showdown at the dojo yesterday, and now everyone at Furin High knows your name, your dojo, and how you kicked Endo Yamato’s irritating ass.

Kaji Ren offers you a lollipop, and you take it gratefully, unwrapping it before plopping it into your mouth. Your sides still hurt slightly from the harsh kick you received from the asshole, but you’re otherwise fine. You have expected Endo to be crazy strong, but once you one-upped him a bit, he instantly loses all rationality and ends up crumpled up beneath you. Pathetic ass.

“You okay? Does it still hurt? Ugh, how can I face your father now?!” Umemiya groans. You can tell from his face that he’s proud and satisfied of your victory, but also worried sick. It doesn’t help that your dad has made him the person in charge of looking after you. Something about you being a troublemaker who needs a reliable person to take care of you, and blah blah blah. Mostly, Umemiya is your childhood friend and he can be overprotective when he’s not handing you your ass at the dojo.

“Calm down, it’s just a small bruise.” Truth be told, it hurts a lot more than you let on. (As if you’d let your friends know that.)

“You need to take care of yourself more.” Great, now Kaji of all people is lecturing you too. You pout at him, about to make a snide comeback, before you bump into Sakura’s back. Noticing that Sakura and your friends have now stopped walking to look straight ahead, you peek from behind Sakura’s shoulders to see yet another stranger. 

In just one glance, you can tell that this person is a lot stronger than the weirdo who stormed your dojo. Standing just a few centimeters shorter than Umemiya, the golden-eyed boy is openly staring at you. His orange-red hair contrasts the dark attire he wears. Before anyone can say anything, he is already marching to your direction, a murderous aura heavy on the air. Sakura is the first to react, protectively shielding you from the other’s advances.

Your blood runs cold when he gets smacked away. Hard. Sakura stumbles, instantly supported by Suo and Nirei before he falls down. You snap your eyes to the stranger, anger flaring like a wildfire. “You’re the other one, aren’t you?” Halting his movements, he merely grins like a maniac at your question.

This time Umemiya is the one who steps in front of you, eyebrows knitted and lips pursed in a thin line. “Takiishi. What do you think you’re doing?” Kaji and Hiragi quickly move to shield you as well, shoulders squared.

The four guys are now having a staring showdown with neither of them backing down. But what they don’t realize is how furious you are. Sliding from behind Umemiya, you face this ‘Takiishi’. “You wanna get your ass handed to you like your little friend yesterday?” Despite Suo’s pleas to calm down, you press on. “Wait, are you here to avenge him?”

Your mocking laugh doesn’t affect him in the slightest. “He’s weak.” He simply states, and you did a double take at how nonchalant he sounds. “It’s too noisy. I’ll find you when you’re alone.” Without waiting for an answer, Takiishi leaves.

Scrunching up your nose, you merely smirk. “When I’m alone, huh? I’ll be waiting for you.”

By now, all your friends are giving you pleading looks for you to stop, but you’re too annoyed to care. You’ll deal with his cocky ass when the time comes, but right now you’re focused on making sure Sakura’s okay.

Takiishi keeps his promises when he saunters to you on a swelteringly hot afternoon. He still wears the same black jacket from before. Even with the jacket on, you can tell he has a muscular build. The calculated steps he takes are intimidating, too. He wastes no time for words, quickly throwing you a powerful punch.

You’re able to dodge it, but you’re not so lucky with his next strike. A jab to your sides in the same spot that Endo bruised. Grimacing in pain, you take a few steps back, mentally cursing at your carelessness.

This asshole doesn’t pull his punches.

Within a few moments into the fight, you can already tell that he’s much stronger than you. His long hair and long clothes don’t seem to hinder his movements because he keeps launching strike after strike, each one more agile than before. After taking a few too many punches, you’re now racking your brains trying to come up with tactics to destroy this guy. Unlike your stoic father, you’re comfortable with trying every dirty trick in the book if it means guaranteeing your victory. Real life is different from competitions, after all.

“What a waste.” You spit out after taking a few steps back to catch your breath. “Got a pretty face, but your personality is shit.” He’s visibly surprised and you seize the moment to land a powerhouse kick, effectively sending him stumbling. Grinning at your small victory, you continue. “Stop this nonsense and maybe I’ll let you take me out on a date, how about that?” Once again, he stiffens up, and you land another kick.

He seems to have finally learned his lesson, now glaring at you and fixing his stance. You giggle at his little frustration. “Aww, don’t pout like that, sweetheart. Just say you think I’m pretty and move on.”

“You’re pretty.” He nonchalantly says, and it’s your turn to be surprised. He instantly tackles you down, locking you with a death grip.

Words can’t describe how angry you are at being beaten with your own tactic. You manage to struggle free from his death grip, but he is still sitting on top of you. Realizing that his face is a little bit too close, you decide to take a gamble…

… and crash your lips into his.

Oh, he’s definitely surprised now, his posture laxing. You flip him on his back, your positions now reversed. Even when you pull away, he still stares up at you, arms at his sides. You try to gather his arms and pin it so you can pummel his face, but he won’t budge. For a second you debated on kissing him again, seeing how effective it renders him immobile, but he moves quicker.

He loops an arm behind your neck, bringing your face down before capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His long hair splays under his head like a halo, his eyes surprisingly closed. You yelp and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, both of you now fighting for dominance under the hot sun.

There’s an indecipherable tension when the two of you pull away. “You’re mine now.” Takiishi unexpectedly says first, his eyes never leaving yours.

You tilt your head in defiance, a smirk on your lips. “Am I?”

Takiishi quickly learns that even though there is an undeniable spark between the two of you, you’re not someone he can tame easily. After kissing him hotly on the mouth, you had kicked him again in the exact same spot as before, grinning and telling him that it was payback. He wakes up the next morning with a purple bruise.

He still doesn’t understand why on earth he ends up chasing you around in the hopes of kissing you again instead of fighting you, but all he knows is that he beat up Endo for talking shit about you and he feels ready to burn the world down when he sees Umemiya sling an arm around you. Or when Suo makes you laugh with his jokes. Or when you take a lollipop from Kaji. Or when you baby the damn brat, Sakura.

For some reason, your friends don’t really care about him showing up anymore. Perhaps you told them that he’s harmless around you now, he doesn’t really care. All he wants is to feel that dizzying feeling again. He watches you go about your day, stirring up trouble and beating up bad guys on the street, laughing and running with your friends. And at nights, after a fun day of hanging out, you stride to him with a ravenous look in your eyes, pulling him by his collar to give him his reward. 

Endo tells him that you’re just using him, but he doesn’t mind.

“You,” Takiishi growls in between kisses, “are mine.” His jacket is thrown away somewhere, leaving him with his turtleneck. Your hand shoots forward to caress his face, and despite the alarm bells ringing in his head, he finds himself leaning into your touch. The moonlight shines down, illuminating your face with an ethereal glow. He watches you breathlessly, admiring his work on your neck. Seeing his bite marks there only fuels his possessiveness as he captures both your wrists and pins them on top of your head.  Even without saying anything, you’re able to rile him up this much… and you look so unaffected. It’s hardly fair. 

He leans down again, hearing you giggle. “Am I?” 

He feels a prick of irritation at your brattiness. He uses his free hand to wrap it around your throat, and you resisted the urge to laugh. He barely squeezes. “Oh, you’re choking me-” Faking a pained moan, your eyes light up in amusement when he immediately loosens his already-loose grip, his eyes widening in shock. Oh, what a cutie.

“Then stop annoying me.”

“Huh? You’re so mean to me, how do you expect me to like you back, huh?” Once again, you used your best sad face. You don’t think you’re a very good actress, but you know what they say: love is blind— and Takiishi Chika is blindly in love.

There’s a conflicted look in Takiishi’s eyes and you giggle again, craning your neck upwards. His hand is still around your throat when you peck his cheek. “Just kidding.”

Oh, you are going to be death of him.

Takiishi knows that you like him too. You had to be, with the way you tease and act around him, the way you instantly go to him the second you finish practice, sometimes still in your gi as he rips it off from you to mark your body again. Takiishi is certain that you like him too, so why..? Why do you insist on making him jealous? 

He watches from a distance, body coiled up like a spring, ready to pounce at Umemiya freaking Hajime who has his arms around your waist, guiding you down to sit. Suo is telling another one of his shitty jokes again, making you laugh like an angel, while Sakura is glued to your side like a baby, blushing everytime your hand grazes his’. He watches each interaction, fuming, with a silent Endo by his side.

He knows he’s being irrational. He’s not even your boyfriend, and you were supposed to be enemies. He thinks. He doesn’t really understand anything anymore. What he knows is how much he wants to beat up your friends, and how much he holds it back because he knows you will hate him for it. He doesn’t want you to hate him. Anything but that.

Umemiya whispers something in your ear, before lifting up his gaze to meet his own mockingly. You follow Umemiya’s gaze and tilt your head at him teasingly, as if the hickey on your neck wasn’t given by him the night before. He feels his breath getting hotter as Endo shifts in his seat uncomfortably.

But he knows how much you hate it when he storms in front of your friends, so he stills himself. He’ll get his reward later. He can wait. He takes out his phone to type a warning to you. Not that you usually care.

You’re mine.

He watches a smirk curl on your lips as you type a short reply.

Am I?

Meanwhile, you shudder in your seat at how intently Takiishi is watching you, his gaze practically boring holes into you. You force yourself to shift your attention to your friends again, who thinks that you managed to beat him up and now he won’t dare to disturb you. They have no idea that Takiishi has been taking special care of you almost every night now. You’re not ready to sort and come to terms with your feelings right now, not when Takiishi himself hasn’t even manned up and asked you out.

So you lean back into Umemiya’s embrace, laughing with Sakura, Suo and Nirei, talking about underrated songs with Kaji and Hiragi, snapping photos with Kiryu. You decide to make the best of the moment, because you know that you won’t be able to walk by the time Takiishi is done with you tonight.

NOTES : It’s here! (aka part 2 of my ‘get more people to join the Takiishi Chika nation’ agenda). Thank you for the ask, anon! You have no idea how excited I am to write a badass reader. The reader is written as a karate practitioner because that’s the only martial art I have experience with. Gosh after rereading this you can tell that this piece of writing holds a special place in my heart. This is written with love y’all. Anyway I have my own headcanon that the Wind Breaker boys must train at a dojo or a center somewhere, because there are only so many bad guys they can beat up, right? How else are they gonna get those EXP?! (Also, if you get that Tekken Chinmi reference, I LOVE YOU FOREVER!!)

[msgexymunson]

Sammy's Mom

Description: Eddie Munson finds it difficult to get over his fantasies about you, his best friend's mom. He tries so hard to keep it in check. The only problem? Sammy's mom has got it going on.

A/N: kind of a little nod to the song "Stacey's Mom" (which is 20 years old now BTW, so if you remember it it's time to take aspirin for your back pain), I've written too much older Eddie in my time so trying to balance it out, as I've given him far too much rizz! And his friend is called Sammy as I've watched a lot of Supernatural recently. Please comment and reblog if you enjoy this my sweethearts.

Warnings: where do I start lmao, NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll slap you with a wet fish, age gap, Eddie's 21, reader is early 40s, MILF reader, reader referred to as 'Mrs F' a few times no first name given, perv Eddie, voyeurism, male masturbation, very slight foot fetish (nothing actually happens), oral both male and female receiving, p in v unprotected sex, slight anal play, cum eating.

10.5k words

Masterlist 

"UNCLE EDDIE!!" 

Johnny's little six year old voice rings out like a bell in the front yard. You look out the window and see him running as fast as his little legs could carry him towards a young man getting out of a beat up van. 

"Hey Squirt!" Crouching to his knees, he accepts your kids embrace, then stands with him, swinging him around in the air as Johnny shrieks uncontrollably, unbridled joy brimming from his chest. The next minute he's got Johnny on his shoulders, walking around the house to the back yard. 

You smile at their antics, warmed at the gesture. Eddie has always been good with your youngest son when he comes to visit Sammy, your oldest. It was nice, him having another man around to look up to, even if he really needs to remember to watch his language. 

Voices sound from the back yard; Eddie had found Sammy and as usual, they were loud and laughing. Not that you minded at all, any laughter those kids could get was music to your ears. 

You grab your sunglasses and perch them on top of your head, searching around for your gardening tools. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and you wanted to be near the kids at least. Grasping your pruners and gardening gloves in one hand and a cooler in the other, you make your way to the rear of the house. 

Pushing the back door open with a hip, you see Sammy is already in the pool. Johnny is still talking a mile a minute at Eddie, as he sits on the edge of a lawn chair. 

Well, he's certainly grown up. 

Eddie's shirtless, sitting there in his long black swimming trunks. There's a new tattoo on his ribs but you can't make it out from this distance. He's looking toned; his jaw is sharper, with shoulders broader than you remember. He's become a man. 

When the hell did that happen? 

Shaking your head out of your temporary revelry, you walk over to the pair of them. The snippets of conversation you overhear as you approach widen the smile on your face. 

"So, you think of any new monsters for me big guy?" 

Johnny beams at Eddie with pride. "Yeah! So right, it's like, a big bat thing right? With metal bits all over, and- and- then it's got these huuuuge teeth, and- and- when he opens its mouth the teeth fly out, right, and turn into bats!!" 

He starts excitedly flapping his arms around and screeching as Eddie laughs and ruffles his hair.

"Bats huh? That's sick. Pretty metal, squirt. Have to add that to the campaign." 

Johnny beams at the praise, staring down at his hand, trying to work out his fingers, then flashes the devil horn hand at him triumphantly. 

"Johnny honey, do you want to play in the pool? Give Uncle Eddie a chance to breathe?" 

"Yeah! Can I do cannonballs? Can I can I can I?" 

His enthusiasm always brings a smile to your face. "Sure thing honey, just don't go in the deep end, 'K?" 

"Kay!" He flashes a thousand watt smile at you and runs off, calling to his brother. 

Your gaze returns to Eddie, who you are sure was just checking you out. His eyes flick to yours almost guiltily. 

"Brought some beers out for you both. Here." Passing him the cooler, your hands brush briefly, the slight touch running a shiver down your spine despite the heat. 

"Thanks Mrs F." 

Eddie licks his lips and you trace the movement with your eyes.

"Mom! What are you wearing?" 

Sammy has exited the pool, dripping water everywhere. You look down at your outfit. You were wearing a two piece, slightly skimpier than your usual swimwear, and a pair of jean hotpants. 

"Sammy love, it's hot. I'm in my backyard. What am I supposed to do? Dress like a nun?" 

Eddie snorts a laugh next to you. 

"But you're all… exposed mom." 

"Sammy, shut up. Your mom can wear what she wants." 

"Yeah? You're only saying that because you-"

But you're destined to never hear the end of that sentence as Eddie pushes him into the pool. Water splashes everywhere, and Eddie laughs, throwing his head back. The gesture has you staring yet again, looking at the skin on his neck, the way his Adam's apple bobs. A mad idea enters your head; what if you just darted your tongue out and licked over it? Decorated that delicate skin with kisses? Nipped at the sides of his throat with your teeth?

Eddie makes eye contact with you then, and you quickly look away. He was sure you were eyeing him up, almost certain of it. Hell, he's been staring at you for years, mapping your curves with his eyes, knowing he'll never get a chance to feel them under his hands, but the look you just gave him made his stomach twist.

Before your thoughts can go any further you tear yourself away and over to the rose bushes. You deadhead the rose bush as if your life depends on it, furiously snipping and cutting, as if you're trying to trim back the impure thoughts you're having. 

After a while, the bushes are looking a lot neater. Stepping back, you remove your gardening gloves and swipe the sweat beads on your brow with the back of your hand. 

"Mrs F, you wanna beer?" 

You turn to see Eddie laying on a sun lounger, waving a cold one. As you walk towards him he stands up to hand it to you. 

"That a new tattoo Eddie?" You ask, pointing to his abdomen. He looks taken aback by your question but responds nonetheless. 

"Yeah, you like it?" 

Your hand drifts towards him almost instinctively, only realising when his muscles tense under your soft touch. It's a scorpion, surrounded in a wreath of flames. Tracing it with your fingers, you circle it slowly. Eddie can feel his heart pounding in his chest. A slow moan escapes Eddie's lips which pulls you out of wherever the hell you were heading. The heat must have gotten to your head. Pulling back your fingers, you respond.

"Yeah, I like it. Metal." 

Looking up around him through your lashes, your eyes meet his. He looks flushed, cheeks heating at your stare. 

"You OK Eddie?" 

"Y-yeah, fine. I'm gonna have a dip in the pool." 

He shuffles awkwardly off, nearly bent double. All his strange stance does is draw attention to the tent in his swimming trunks that has appeared. It's really rather large; to your amazement, you can't seem to take your eyes off it. Eddie dives into the pool, swimming over to your son. 

Did I just do that? 

You shake your head, banishing thoughts of Eddie's package, and head off to the kitchen to clean some dishes. 

As Eddie rushes into the pool, he's wishing the cool water would shrink the raging hard on he just got. 

Fuck, you look so good today. That skimpy bikini top barely covering the curves of your tits; them damn near spilling out of the top. Those tiny shorts, framing your hips and ass perfectly. Then you had to go and touch him. That had him nearly busting in his pants. He can't help but wonder if it was on purpose. A crazy thought he shouldn't be entertaining. 

He dips his head under the water trying to cool the blood that had rushed to his cheeks. 

You had to be at least 40. Sammy's Dad had been out of the picture for a while, he knew that much. He couldn't help but wonder if you were a little lonely; maybe that's why you had been flirting with him. Or it was entirely Eddie's imagination and he just needs to jerk off and get it out of his system. 

As he gets out of the water, shaking his hair like a dog, he thinks he sees you looking at him through the kitchen window, but he can't be sure. 

"Dude, why have you got a boner?" Sammy points at him from the water, forcing Eddie to cup his erection, trying to hide it from prying eyes. 

"I can't help it!" He whisper shouts, cheeks flushing anew, "your mom's hot!" 

"Eddie! Don't say that, that's gross!" Sammy slings back, pulling a disgusted face.

"Hey it's not, she's a total fox, what can I do, it's like, biological, she's a babe!" 

Little did he know you can hear every word, pressing your lips together firmly to suppress a laugh as you dry up a cup in the kitchen. 

"She's like, really old, and she's my mom for God's sake!" 

"Hey, rude, she's not that old. You think she's into younger guys?" You can hear the smile in his voice, he's clearly just trying to wind Sammy up now, but your thighs clench together at the thought. The cup in your hands is dry as a bone right now. 

"Eddie shut the f-" 

"What's a boner?" The little voice is clear and loud, cutting through the argument. 

A loud laugh shoots from your chest uncontrollably. You try to mask it with your hand but there's nothing you can do, it's out there now. 

Eddie's head whips around to face the house, flicking water droplets in its wake. 

"Oh shit." It's low, but loud enough to hear. 

Making your way back outside, you call out to Johnny to save either of them answering the awkward question.

"Come on kid, you want a snack?" 

"Yeah mommy! Shit!" Eddie's mouth drops open. 

"What did I say about copying Eddie" you ask sternly. 

He parrots back in a sing-song voice, "don't copy Eddie, Eddie is dirty." 

"That's right. Come on, inside." He runs past you in the way only a child can, feet flat on the floor slapping on the concrete.

Eddie steps a little closer to you.

"I'm so sorry Mrs F it won't-" 

"Hey, it's OK," you reply, stepping to meet him. You drop your voice lower, hand up as if you're telling a secret. On autopilot, Eddie leans towards you to hear your whisper, close enough to smell your shampoo. 

"Sometimes mommy's dirty too." 

Turning on your heel, you walk back into the house without a glance, leaving Eddie with his jaw on the floor.

Where the hell did that come from?

You try to steady your breathing as you go inside. That was reckless of you, he's half your age. You admonish yourself, telling your brain that you need to stop flirting with the poor boy. 

Eddie's frozen on the spot. It's clear you overheard their little conversation, and then you come out with something like that? It's definitely not his imagination at this point. For a crazy moment he thinks he might actually have a shot at you. 

Stop it. She's Sammy's mother for Christ's sake. Pull yourself together Munson. 

"Imma take a quick shower if that's alright and get, er, changed. You wanna work on the campaign some more?" Eddie says it over his shoulder to Sammy, not daring to turn. He's never been so hard in all his life. 

"Sure, just stay out of my mom's room." 

Eddie laughs nervously, "who do you think I am?" As he walks to the house. 

"Eddie fuckin' Munson." Sammy mutters under his breath. 

As he stumbles into the house with his bundle of clothes over his crotch, he catches another glimpse of you, on your hands and knees searching in a cupboard. 

"Honey, I don't think we've got any animal crackers left." You say over your shoulder to a pouting Johnny. 

You're barely contained in your jean hot pants, the denim tight against your perfect ass. 

"Fuckin' hell" Eddie mutters under his breath, tearing his eyes away to make his way upstairs. 

He practically runs up the stairs, tripping slightly on the last step. Flinging his body into the bathroom, he shuts and locks the door. 

Five seconds later he's in the shower with his hand wrapped around his slippery cock, tugging on it as if it were his last day on earth. 

Fuck, why does she have to be so fine? 

He's whimpering and stifling breathy moans as he cums hard in less than five minutes. Shame snags its sneaky claws into his heart then, as he hangs his head under the shower head. He needs to get it together before the thought of you ruins him completely. 

********************

Knocking on your eldest son's door, he calls out for you to enter. Both him and Eddie are sitting on the bed, a pile of books and notes between them. You do your best to ignore the smoky weed smell as you address him.

"Sammy, I'm heading out, you still OK to take care of Johnny?" 

"Woah, Mrs F you look h-" Sammy elbows him in the ribs before he can finish the sentence, "-very nice." Eddie finishes lamely. 

A smile spreads over your face at his words. Your date tonight was nothing special, not really, but the need growing between your legs needed to be sorted out somehow. So, you'd dressed to impress; a red figure hugging dress, ending just at the knee, with matching slingbacks. Your hair was down, hanging past your shoulders in soft curls. 

"Mom, I'm going to Tiffany's, to stay over, remember?" Sammy responds, raising his eyebrows meaningfully at you.

"That was tonight?" Well, fuck. "Your grandma's coming to pick Johnny up at 9, can't you stay until then? 

"I can watch him." 

You both turn to look at Eddie. He looks just as surprised as you two at his words.

"I can watch him, no problem. I ain't got anywhere to be tonight."

Eddie doesn't know why he offered. Well, in part he did. He might get to see you again in that dress later. 

"Thanks Eddie, you're a lifesaver. I can pay-" 

"Oh no, don't worry about it." He flashes a grin which does something to your insides, melting them just a little.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it. Johnny's downstairs watching TV, he's had dinner, just need to wait for my mom to pick him up. You sure it's OK?" 

"Of course, it's no problem." 

"OK, well make yourself at home." You give him a winning smile of your own which makes his face flush red. 

"Oh, and Sammy?" 

"Yeah mom?" 

"Use protection." 

"Mom!" 

You laugh and shut the door, heading off to your date. 

********************

The date was a total bust, not that you'd expected anything less. Greg from accounting was nice, sure; kind of handsome, in a middle aged balding kind of way. A reliable sort of guy. Then, when the dinner was over and he kissed you, you knew there was no way it was going to go any further. So, you'd refused his invitation to go to a bar, made your excuses and got a cab home. 

Standing outside your house, you look at the time. 9:30. Rock and roll. You huff into the humid night air at how old you must seem right now, and open your front door. 

"Eddie!" 

Sprawled on the sofa, manspreading, sits Eddie. A beer rests on the coffee table, and the TV is blaring out some horror film. 

He scrambles to his feet looking like he's about to be told off. 

"Mrs F, sorry, erm, your mom's not here yet, she called saying she was running late-" 

As if on cue, there's a knock at the door. You open it, and see your mom standing there, pushing past you in a cloud of perfume. 

"Hey love, so sorry I'm late!" She looks at you, then Eddie. "Is this your date?" 

Blushing a furious red, you shake your head. 

"Oh, no this is Sammy's friend, he was watching Johnny for a bit." 

"Oh, the young man I spoke to on the phone. Shame, he's very handsome." She winks at you. 

"Mom!" 

Eddie looks like he's about to die from blood loss; his face is so drained it's ghostly white. 

"I-I'll go get squirt," he stumbles out awkwardly. 

"Mom, please behave." You whisper when he's left the room.

"I'm behaving! I thought you were on a date, what happened?" 

"He wasn't my type." 

"Well, you should find someone who is. How long has it been?" 

You run your hand through your hair, feeling a little more confrontational than usual due to the alcohol in your veins. 

"Mom, just drop it. I'm fine!" 

"OK, OK! That babysitter is a fine looking young man-" 

"Mom!" 

"Mommy!" You turn just in time for Johnny to grab your legs in a hard hug, squishy cheek pushing against your thigh. 

"We went on an adventure! I'm a Knight, I saved the lady! There was gobbins and stuff!" His little eyes shine, staring at Eddie in pure adoration. 

"Really? Well done! Sounds amazing love. Go on, go with nanna. I love you." 

"OK! Love you mom! Bye Uncle Eddie!" He runs over to him and grabs his legs fiercely. Eddie ruffles his hair in response.

"Night squirt. Or should I say Sir Johnny the Just?" 

"Yeah! Imma hero!" He beams and runs off to grasp your mother's hand, regaling her of his adventures. 

"I'll see you later mom," you say, passing her Johnny's overnight bag by the door. 

As the door shuts, the only sounds are coming from the gristly movie on the TV until Eddie switches it off. Silence. 

"Mrs F, I only opened the beer after I put him to bed, I swear-" 

"Hey, it's fine, don't worry. Thanks for staying longer, I appreciate it." 

"Oh, it's fine. My trailers empty anyway, and you have cable." He smiles sheepishly at you. 

"I told you, make yourself at home. Finish your beer." 

Shoes are kicked off to join the jumble at the front door, and you rub some life back into your aching heels. Eddie's staring at your feet and he can't figure out why. He's never had a thing for feet, but yours? Yours he'd happily have running over his body, in his mouth, on his cock. He's almost ashamed at how just the slightest bit of your flesh on show has him practically drooling. 

You're oblivious to Eddie's perverse thoughts however. Tonight was not what you wanted, and it makes you huff aloud at the thought. 

"You alright Mrs F?" Eddie asks, concern in his voice as he sits back down on the couch, trying his hardest not to stare at your cleavage. 

"Yeah I'm-" why are you lying? "no, actually I'm not. Not the night I was expecting." When you flash a weak smile at Eddie, it's not returned. He looks worried almost. 

"Wanna talk about it?" 

It's sweet of him to ask, and you're about to brush it off but he just looks so invested in your welfare that it takes you aback briefly. 

"Sure. Hang on a minute." You pad barefoot to the kitchen and grab a beer, returning to the living room to sit on the couch beside him. 

Eddie is trying to tell himself he's just being nice. It's not just an excuse to stay. It's difficult to believe his own thoughts however when your dress is riding up your thigh like that.

The very air between you both seems thick and laced with unanswered questions, tension real and palpable. 

"So, Sir Johnny the Just?" You ask, to try and clear the closing space. 

"Yeah," Eddie grins, face lighting up at the mention of your boy, "I gave him the name. Made a little one shot for him, you know, fought some goblins, saved a damsel in distress. He's got a knack for D&D." 

Your eyes glisten at that.

"Thanks, he really looks up to you. It's nice, him having some guys around." 

"Can I ask, what happened to… Mr F?" He knows he's crossing a line here, but he's so curious, and Sammy never talks about it. 

"He left me. I was pregnant with Johnny, and he met some blonde twig, had an affair." 

"Oh, I'm so fuckin' sorry." 

You shrug. It's trauma, yes, but it's passed. A wound that has long since closed over the years, scarring but healing. You sip your beer and ask a line crossing question of your own.

"So, no girlfriend then? Since you're free on a Saturday night?" 

You're not sure where that came from, but it's been asked now. A bubble of nerves pops when you ask it, showering you in drops of second guesses. 

"N-no, well I mean, yeah I've had like, girlfriends in the past but no, I'm single. As a pringle." 

What was that about? Smooth Munson. 

You just laugh as he visibly cringes at his own words. 

"Pringles aren't single, they fit together. They come in a tube." You add, mock helpfully. 

You both chuckle then, diffusing some of the awkwardness between you. He knocks your knee with his. You reciprocate, and look up into those soulful puppy dog eyes of his. 

Eddie's arm lays on the back of the couch behind you, and he's painfully aware of that fact. He wants to drop it to your shoulder, to run circles on your exposed skin and give you that smile, the smile he's given to a dozen girls. But you aren't a girl. You're a woman. The thought is making him more nervous than a virgin on prom night. 

Coughing the thought away, he asks you about tonight. 

"So, what happened on your date? I thought you'd be out later." 

"So did I." You slug some more beer back to calm yourself, and continue, "he was a nice guy. Opened doors, paid for dinner. Then he kissed me." 

Eddie attempted to ignore the burning jealousy in his gut. 

"Oh yeah? Sounds awful.' 

Laughing, you reach and stroke his side for a minute. Your hand lingers, feeling down to his hip. Eddie's heart is pounding in his throat. To his amazement, you leave it there, absentmindedly running fingers over his t-shirt. 

'Yeah, torture," you quip, "it was the kiss." 

Suddenly, you're moving your hand, much to Eddie's dismay, and turning to face him on the couch. He does the same, noticing that his arm is now so close to your head he can feel a slight tickle from your hair. 

"Can I be honest with you?" 

"Sure," Eddie tries to say coolly, to act like his entire insides aren't on fire because of the eye contact you're giving him. 

"It's, er, been a while. A very long while." Your eyes dip down, unsure why the hell you're telling Eddie this, but something about him is making you want to be open when usually you're a closed book. 

Eddie swallows thickly. He knows exactly what you're getting at. On instinct his thumb is rubbing the back of your head, over the soft curls. You don't seem to mind, better yet, your shoulders drop some tension, letting go just a little. 

Still looking down, you say "I can usually tell what someone's going to be like, in bed, from a kiss. Never been wrong yet," you laugh a little, "and he felt, well, dull, and kinda selfish." 

Grabbing your beer for something to distract you from the ache in your core, you drink some more, nearly finishing it. 

As you place it back down on the coffee table, you glance at Eddie's lap. He's fumbling with his rings, spinning one with his thumb as he shifts in his seat. There's an unmissable bulge in the front of his jeans; they're so tight you can see the outline of it. Of him. 

Glancing up at his face when you feel brave enough, it's beetroot red, but his eyes look dark, hungry almost. 

"Well, th-that's a cool superpower to have," he laughs out nervously. 

"I suppose it is" You smile. 

Eddie's trying so hard to control himself. The devil on his shoulder is pulling at his hair and yelling in his ear to make a move. 

This isn't right though, it's Sammy's mom for fucks sake. 

That's when you put your hand on his knee, touching that bare patch of skin where his jeans are frayed. Your touch is delicate, almost hesitant, and it destroys any resolve Eddie had. His hand is shaking slightly as he puts his fingers over yours. 

The touch is warming and electric, fanning the flames of the blazing fire in your stomach. As your eyes meet, Eddie's confidence grows. He can see that you want this, but someone needs to make the first move, and he would kick himself if he missed out because he didn't have the balls to make it.

"You know sweetheart," he begins, as you take a sharp breath at the nickname, he's never called you anything other than Mrs F before that, "you can't just say you have a superpower like that and not show me." 

There's nerves in his voice, but also a cheeky smile playing on his lips. To his amazement you blush, mouth curving into a smile of your own. 

"Listen, Eddie, you're a very sweet boy-" 

"-man," He interjects, "I'm 21." 

Chuckling, you reply, "OK, a very sweet young man, but I don't think that's a good idea." 

It's true, you don't. It's a very bad idea, but it's one you can't get out of your head, your eyes drawn to the curve of his jaw, his stubble, those plush lips of his. Wetting your lips impulsively, you nibble at the bottom one which sends Eddie's head into a dizzying whirlwind. 

"I just wanna know if I'm good in the sack, think it's only fair if you can tell me, it's just a kiss." 

Luck being pushed as far as it can go and then a little further, he daringly places a hand on your cheek. 

He is right, it's only a kiss. 

You say it in your head as if you're trying to convince yourself of the lie. By the time you realise how weak of an argument it is, you're already leaning forward, eyes unmistakably drawn to his lips. 

Eddie leans in, breath fanning your face. 

"Don't you want to… satisfy your curiosity?" 

It's bold, he knows, but you're the one who leans in further.

Eddie doesn't think twice, not when your eyes are hooded like that and your lips are forming a sultry pout. He presses his lips to yours softly at first, feeling the plush of them melt against his, his hand winding into your hair. 

You don't stop him, or pull back. His lips on yours are disarming, taking away your bite. The kiss is gentle, and you dissolve into it, moving your lips against his with a passion you can't remember ever feeling. 

Eddie's trying really hard not to just stick his tongue down your throat and feel you up, but he needs to prove something. He might not ever get a chance ever again, so he takes it slow. Opening his mouth, his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, begging. Not only do you let him, you return his tongue with a lick of your own, running it over his lip in turn. Tongues stroke into each other's mouths sensually; you feel as if you have something to prove. Like he's the one who will be judging you and not the other way around.

He tastes intoxicating; you can't put your finger on why, it's beer, and cigarettes, and something else that's drawing you in. It's just pure Eddie. His smell too, leather, smoke and Old Spice;  it's filling you up from the inside out, making your head spin. 

Eddie's obsessed. Your touch, your scent, your taste. He could kiss you forever; he could kiss you until he dies, suffocated by your mouth, your passion. This feels like some sort of fever dream and he never wants to wake up.

Your fingers are touching cotton fabric before you even understand that you've got a fistful of his shirt, pulling him in further. He responds by dropping his hand to your neck, thumb rubbing intoxicating patterns on your pulse point. 

When you're feeling on the brink of being entirely consumed by his kiss, he's the one to pull away. It's a little sneaky, he knows that, but he wants the upper hand and thinks he won't get it ever again. Eddie can't believe his luck when he sees your eyes still closed, lips chasing his touch, with a ball of his shirt in your hands. 

As your eyes flutter open, you look up at him. A self satisfied smirk is smeared across his face and you can't help but think he's won this round of whatever the hell you're playing. Playing with fire it feels like. 

A moment too late and you remember your hand bunched into his clothes. You unhand him and slap his knee, fingers unwilling to pull away. 

"So, what's the verdict sweetheart?" Eddie asks. His fingers are still massaging at your neck, rubbing back and forth, sending tingles down your spine. 

"What?" You ask, mind well and truly blank. 

"Guessing that's good." He laughs, taking his hand away to take a sip of his beer. "Remember your superpower, Wonder Woman?" 

"Oh, yeah. It was… good." You shrug, picking up the last of your beer and downing it. 

"Good? Good?! Come on, you gotta give me more than that!" He huffs dramatically, slamming his beer bottle on the table. 

Laughing aloud, you turn and face him again. He really is beautiful. His hair framing his face, that triumphant smile on his lips, laughter lines creasing in his day old stubble. You can almost believe he's older than he is, but knowing what you know about his family, he's been through a lot. 

"OK, it was the best kiss I've had in a while. A very long time." 

"Yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

It's quiet for a moment; a loaded kind of quiet. It hangs heavily in the air like a thunderstorm. 

"Well, how about you?" You ask. 

"What do you mean?" 

"You know what I mean!" You laugh, nudging him with your foot.

"It was… good." He says, mimicking your words. Then he takes in your face, drinking in your beauty with his eyes, until he can't hold back anymore, "alright, it was mind blowing, you're really fuckin' hot." 

"Yeah, for my age" You scoff at his response, disbelieving him even after that kiss. You hear it alot, ever since you passed 35. 'You look good for your age', the backhanded compliment that feels like a knife in the chest. 

"That's bullshit!" Eddie responds loudly, shaking you out of your head and into the here and now, "you're fucking hot, period. Nothing to do with age sweetheart." 

If his words are lies, the bulge in his pants sure isn't. You feel drunk, and not from the alcohol. Eddie's kiss had you feeling reckless. Naughty. Young. 

"I overheard your little conversation earlier," you admit, scooching closer to him on the couch. Faces an inch apart, Eddie's torn between pouncing or running. So are you. 

"Yeah, you weren't supposed to hear that. Kinda glad you did." 

That makes you braver. All thought has gone, and the pounding need in between your legs has you losing all inhibitions as you lean towards his neck.

"Do you want me, Eddie?" You purr into his ear, nipping at the lobe with your teeth. 

"Uh, like, yeah. Yes, o-of course" He replies shakily, hand restless against your thigh. 

"You're trembling Eddie" it's your turn to smirk, lips dragging against his throat, "you've been with a woman before, right?" You know he has, but you can't help teasing him a little. 

Yes, a dozen, but none like you. 

"Y-yeah, I'm not a virgin, if th-that's what you're asking." 

Get it the fuck together Munson. 

"Then why are you nervous?" 

"Girls don't make me nervous. You make me nervous" He laughs, with absolute honesty in his words. 

With a flick of your eyes to his lips, you cradle his jaw. Eddie can't wait a second longer, he's about to burst. He takes a breath, grabs you by the hip, and presses a hard kiss to your mouth. 

The first one was a test, an examination. This one is pure desire, neediness etched into the marrow of his bones. Yet you're the one to deepen the kiss, mouth opening up to him, your tongue running over his with fervour. Lust is rolling off the pair of you, filling the room with its sultry fog.

Impatience gets the best of him, he needs you closer, so he yanks you into his lap, hands grabbing hard to your hips. Gasping into his mouth at the sudden dominance, you let him lead. His kiss is burning you, hot and heavy. Your hips start grinding into his lap of their own accord, each movement inching your dress higher and higher. 

Eddie rolls it up and over your ass so your red lace panties are on display, dress bunching at your waist. His hands are all over you, feeling at your thighs, your hips, your ass, kneading at the dough of your flesh desperately. 

Each grope, each bruising squeeze of his fingertips has you panting in his mouth, your hands winding into his loose locks, tugging. 

The kisses are becoming sloppier, allegedly immovable lipstick starting to smear on Eddie's face. You're biting at his bottom lip, grinding hard against his clothed dick; Eddie feels like he's died and gone to heaven. 

He tugs at your dress urgently, coaxing you to wriggle it up your frame and fling it away. 

The sight of you in your matching bra and panty set is enough to stop him in his tracks. It's gorgeous satin and lace, one of many you have. Even Eddie can see this is expensive. He runs his hands up and down your sides, drinking it in as if it were his last day on Earth. 

You allow him the few moments he takes to worship you with his eyes. If anything you're enjoying it as much as he is, his hungry stare fuelling your ego. 

"See something you like?" You tease, fingernails dragging across his neck. 

"Fuck yeah" comes his breathy response, pulling down a cup of your bra roughly, his mouth finding your nipple and sucking. 

Throwing your head back, you let out an unadulterated moan. You grab the hem of his shirt and tug it upwards. He gets the message, wrestling it off of his toned frame and throwing it away as if he's exasperated with clothes. Relishing in this new uncharted territory, your hands run all over his skin, tracing tattoos and freckles, fingernails leaving evidence of your desire. 

"Sorry, I just need to-" instead of telling you, he shows you, standing up with you grasped firmly at the hips. You think for a moment that he's going to take you upstairs, but he's pressing you down gently to the floor, lips and tongue tasting your neck, playfully licking over your collarbone. 

Eddie needs to know what your pussy tastes like; he's been dreaming of this for as long as he can remember. The thought of you unravelling because of him has him twitching in his pants. 

So, he makes his way down your torso, mapping your skin with his tongue. You're just so reactive; each time he laps and sucks at you a breathy gasp comes spilling from perfect painted lips.  

It's driving you crazy, his mouth is setting each patch of skin aflame, burning with passion. You're surprised by his movements as his mouth trails lower and lower. It looks like he's taking every enjoyment in tasting you, and the way he wiggles to get between your spread legs makes you realise he's going to go down on you. That is what's so surprising; you've never had a man who did that without some serious coaxing, let alone one who seemed to really want to. 

Now you're not self conscious by any means; you've grown to be very comfortable with your body, the feeling just comes with age. You can't help but be a little worried however, when Eddie reaches the stretch marks on your tummy. Little lightning strikes, lighter than the rest of your skin. You're not embarrassed, those little marks on your stomach and thighs are signs of your two beautiful boys. What's troubling you is the fact that Eddie can't have possibly seen any before, at least like this. What if they disgust him? 

It seems you needn't have worried. Eddie's in awe, running his fingers over the soft skin of the scars. He plants a kiss over the top and watches your muscles tense up. 

It's not that he likes them, or dislikes them for that matter; it's the fact that they are real. You're real, and in front of him in your underwear, and they ground him to the fact that this is actually happening. 

Reaching the hem of your panties he's torn between taking them off or not; you're just so damn pretty in them. He settles for running his tongue along the seam making you moan. You, Sammy's mom, moaning underneath him. He'd pinch himself if he didn't think it would spoil the mood. 

"You can take them off if you want baby." 

"Can I just, move them to the side? You're so fuckin' pretty like this." 

"Sure" you nod at him. He does so and nearly dies at the sight. Seems everything about you is thought of, down to your manicured nails, waxed legs, and bikini wax. The little patch of hair left is driving Eddie fucking crazy. 

He wastes no more time and runs his tongue through your folds, lapping at you like a man possessed. You taste exquisite, a flavour Eddie will remember for the rest of his life. It has him groaning into you, the vibration tingling over your clit making you writhe under him.

He's trying to map what you like, what makes you whimper, what makes you buck into his mouth. You can tell he's trying, really trying, but you know what you need. 

"Eddie, oh fuck, use, use the flat of your tongue," as he changes his tongue shape and rhythm, you wind your fingers into his hair and tug him right where you need him, "Oh God fuck, right there!" 

Yes fucking ma'am. 

Eddie's birthdays, Christmases, Easters, fuck it, all the holidays, have come at once. You are using him for your pleasure, riding his face. His dick is so swollen it's almost painful; he's rutting into the carpet like a teenager, the seam on his jeans not nearly providing enough friction.  

The pleasure is coursing through your veins, throbbing inside your stomach and thighs as you take what you need, fingers pulling hard at his hair. 

The moan that rips from your chest when Eddie pushes two fingers into your soaking wet cunt is pornographic, long and loud. He curls them upward, stroking incessantly at your g spot and spots appear in your vision. The last coherent thought you have is, fuck he really knows what he's doing. 

"Eddie!" 

You come with a strangled scream of his name, then it's all just white light and searing ecstasy as you ride out your orgasm. Your pulse and the feel of Eddie's hair taut in your fingers are the only things keeping you on planet Earth. 

Eddie just about holds it together, fingers working you through your release. You screamed his name. He almost came in his pants right then and there. The sound of you screaming his name is now a new core memory. He's sure he will replay it in his head many times with his fist on his cock.

Your back finally touching the carpet again, you tear Eddie's head away from your pussy and coax him none too gently upward. He hovers over your mouth, a little worried about kissing you when his face is covered with your release, but that worry turns into shock when you push his head forcefully towards yours and slip your tongue in his mouth. 

You can't help but moan at the taste of yourself in his mouth. The moan sounds low in your throat, buzzing into Eddie's mouth so low he feels it in his dick. Seems you weren't lying when you said mommy is dirty too. 

Suddenly Eddie's world turns sideways as you flip him onto his back, pushing his thighs apart with your knee. His scent, the feel of his skin, it's intoxicating. Before you realise what you're doing, you're sucking a love bite into the side of his neck, hard. 

Mine. 

Trailing lips and manicured nails down his torso, you pause at the fly of his jeans. You look up at him through your lashes. 

"This OK Eddie?" 

"Erm… oh God yes?" 

You giggle girlishly, flicking the button of his jeans undone and unzipping the fly gently. Relishing in the moment, you guide him to lift his hips and pull his jeans and boxers down slowly, unwrapping him like a gift.  

And what a fucking gift. 

As you pull his jeans and underwear down to his knees, his hardened cock springs out, coming to rest on his abdomen. It's big, the biggest you think you've seen in real life. Blushing a pretty pink at the tip, a pearl of pre cum sits on the slit at the top. 

Eddie takes your stillness as judgement, he can't help but fill in the silence. 

"Sorry, it's er, it's not like, impressive or anything- oh fuck" 

His apologies are interrupted when you take the tip in your mouth, sucking up the pre cum that glistens there. You roll the tip around your mouth, amazed at the fact he tastes so good. 

Breaking away with a pop, you reply, looking at him as you fist his length slowly with one hand. 

"Eddie, you're really, really big." 

"Really?" He doesn't look convinced, leaning up on his elbows to look at you. 

"Really. You're huge Eddie." 

"Yeah?" An edge of disbelief coats his voice, but he's smiling. 

"Biggest I've seen." 

Eddie's smile is damn near splitting his face in half. 

"So, could I get that in writing or- Jesus fuckin' Christ!" 

You take him in your mouth again, fitting as much as you can, fisting the rest in your hand. The groans and whimpers coming from Eddie's mouth are downright obscene. The wetter you get him, the louder he gets, so you dribble purposely all over your fist, letting it drip down to his balls. 

Eddie's eyes keep trying to roll back but he won't let them, he refuses. He needs to see this, to see you. The slick sounds your hand and mouth are creating are making him fizz from the inside out, each movement is making him want to blow his load in that perfect practised mouth. 

Sammy's mom is sucking my fucking dick dry. 

He's trying to get his head around this impossible situation but it's so outlandish he wants to laugh. Or cry. Or scream. He settles on moaning, hand resting on the back of your head, stroking encouraging circles. 

"Fuck, you're- you're too good at this, holy shit!" 

Relinquishing his length with a sodden wet noise, you fist his length, running your thumb over his tip and lapping at his balls. Taking one in your mouth and playfully sucking, he nearly busts right then and there. 

"OK sweetheart, I-I can't hold back if you, fuck, if you d-do that-" 

You finally unhand him with a cheeky smile and straddle him, your underwear the only barrier between your sex and his throbbing length. 

"You OK there champ?" You ask, a mischievous grin plastered all over your face as you drag your perfect nails down his chest. 

"Y-yeah, I'm fine, I-" Eddie grabs your hand, stopping you in your tracks, "Please give me a minute, please." 

Eddie's eyes are big, wide and wet. Almost like a lost puppy. You're torn between wanting to hold him close, look after him, and fucking him hard until he cries. 

Suddenly he looks concerned, eyes growing impossibly wider. 

"I don't have, a-a condom or anything-" 

You chuckle lowly, bringing his hand to your lips, kissing softly at his knuckles. 

"Eddie, baby, I had my tubes tied years ago. It's OK. If it's OK with you?" 

Holy shit. Sammy's mom wants to ride me raw. Jesus Christ. 

His head is spinning; he realises he's nodding so hard he may have whiplash. You smirk at his response, the rigorous nodding and wide eyed look is just doing something to your insides; twisting them up, making you hungry. 

Maybe that's why you do what you do. You wink at him, and swing your leg over, pushing your underwear to the side once again. Though this time, you're straddling him backwards, round ass on display as you tease the head of his cock with your soaking wet lips. 

As you sink down onto him, you hear the guttural moan that strikes out from his soul almost, travelling swiftly to your core. He's big, you weren't lying. You feel each vein, each ridge, as you seat yourself fully onto his cock. 

This boy has no idea what he's packing. 

Jesus Christ, the spots this impressive length can reach are unreal. You bounce on him slowly, revelling in the stretch. He's throbbing underneath you, inside you. The sensation makes you moan wantonly, feeling sexier than you've felt in years. 

Eddie's mesmerised by your ass, watching it bounce on his dick, drooling at the shake of it when it plunges back down. His eyes are drawn to your tight hole, half hidden by the pricey underwear that still adorns you. Just a tiny slip of lace hugged in your ass cheeks. 

He's already pushed his luck; he's well aware of that fact. The arousal pumping through him has him throwing caution to the wind however, so he sucks his thumb, getting it nice and wet, and pushes it against your asshole.

It surprises you, sure, but you're moaning louder at his bold move. 

Eddie's reeling, dizzy at your reaction. He was expecting at least for you to just slap his hand away, but if anything you speed up and make even more noise. Fuck, if you could get more perfect, you just did. He pushes his digit in, feeling you clench around it, riding him for all he's worth. 

"Oh fuck, Eddie!" 

It's too much for you to take, being filled in both holes, riding him hard and fast until your vision is blurring and spots are in your eyes. Your release startles you, a fuzzy feeling filling you up from the inside out and exploding from your cunt in a gush. 

Reality seeps in as you come down from your high; pain in your knees searing up your leg. 

"Sweetheart, I need to get on top, please." 

It's a relief you're not prepared to admit to as you climb off, legs twitching and knackered. 

Near collapsing on the floor, Eddie's on you, falling in his excitement. He's forgotten his jeans are still woven around his ankles. He kicks them off and slides between your spread legs. 

"Can I take your panties off now sweetheart?" 

What he's not saying, is he really doesn't want to miss what might be the only time he gets to see you naked. You oblige, lifting up your hips so he can wrestle the sodden garment off you. 

As if you can hear his prayers, you unhook your bra too, flinging it toward the couch. Eddie's nearly having a heart attack; it's hammering hard in his chest, the only thing stopping it from bursting out is his ribcage. The sight of you, nude, beneath him? It's unravelling him in a way he didn't know was possible. 

So he loses it for a moment, burying his head in the valley of your breasts, licking and sucking as if his life depended on it. Your nipples stand to attention at his ministrations, yet your core hums at the lack of attention. 

"Eddie, please, I need you inside me." 

Fuck this is unreal. She's so beautiful and she's begging for me. Feels like a dream. 

But it's not a dream. He's pressing his quivering length against you again and your pussy is swallowing him up as if it's hungry for him. 

You let him in, his hard member spearing you, humping into you hard and rough. You groan against him, fingernails finding leverage in his broad shoulders. 

His arms hook under your sweaty knees, pulling them hard against your torso, angling himself to fuck into you mercilessly. 

"Fuck, you feel- so fuckin' good" He stammers out, slamming his hips into you. 

You're beyond words, screaming his name like it's the only word you know. 

"You gonna come again? Please, fuck, please come, I need it, I need it baby please" His babbling words fire out at you, driving you ceaselessly to another orgasm. 

Fingers wind between your heaving forms, running urgent circles over your clit. They slip and slide against your sodden nub, desperately seeking to get you to that precipice. You moan, and moan, and finally clench and scream his name, voice hard, burning in your throat.

Eddie can't take it, not the way your cunt is grabbing onto him so tightly, constricting his dick as if it's afraid he'll leave. He stutters his hips and grunts his own release deep into you. 

For a minute he doesn't stop, He refuses to stop. He doesn't want it to be over. So, he fucks his cum into you until it's impossible to continue and finally comes up for air. 

You envelop his lips into a suffocating kiss, swollen lips and tongue and spit. Messy and passionate, he returns it, glad that you still want to kiss him at the end of all things. 

Though, you don't want it to be over. His touch, his feel, his taste, you could soak it up, roll around in it forever, wrap yourself in his arms and stay. A mad thought. A maddening thought. 

Eddie slips from inside you making you frown at the loss. His smile is soaked in mischief however, as he starts to kiss down your front again, burying his head in the deep valley of your breasts, tongue lathering over the supple flesh and moving downwards. 

He's never, ever, felt the need to taste himself on another. As a matter of fact, if you had told him yesterday he would feel the desperate urge to press his tongue into a pussy that is dripping with his own cum he would have laughed in your face. But, this is your pussy. Your tight wet cunt, and he needs to taste it. He needs it like he needs air to breathe. For a second he stares up at you with big soulful eyes. 

"I wanna taste what we made." 

His words are shooting into the pulse spilling from your core.

"Really?" Your words drip in perplexity, amazed that any man would want that, but the thought lingers, making you realise that you want that. 

No further time wasted, he dives into your dripping core, tongue dragging through your aching lips. For a moment it's too much, until it drops into pleasure; pleasure that you sink into, melting under his touch. 

Eddie laps furiously at your clit, both of your releases dripping from his chin. He sinks thick fingers inside, squelching into your soft heat. 

Wordlessly, he takes his fingers out and reaches them up to your face. His eyes are trained on you, flat of his tongue rubbing against your swollen nub. 

Hesitantly, you take in the sight of his sticky fingers, before you take them into your mouth, sucking and hollowing your cheeks. The taste is indescribable; it's salty, sweet, tangy, each separate flavour hitting your tongue differently, fuelling your desires.

You're making Eddie's dreams come true with that gesture. Your trust in him, your filthiness, the way your tongue works against his fingers, it's all shooting to his heart, and his cock. He's impossibly hard again, groaning into your cunt. 

Another release is speeding toward you. You can feel yourself hurtling towards it, free falling into ecstasy. You grip around his wrist, fingers digging bruises into the tendons as your orgasm rushes out of you in a string of curse words. 

He moves back up your body and you envelop his slicked lips in a firm kiss. To your surprise, you can feel his hard member digging into your thigh. It's been a long time since you've been with anyone who couldn't go more than one round before rolling over and falling asleep. The joys of youth. 

"You OK Eddie?" You ask between breath-taking kisses. 

"OK? I'm fucking amazing sweetheart. Feel like I just won the lottery or something" He huffs a laugh, nudging the tip of his nose with yours. 

"You, erm-" you begin, feeling almost embarrassed, "-you wanna go again?" 

"Oh hell yeah." 

His tip is already begging at your entrance but you place a firm hand to his chest, stilling his movements. 

"Eddie, upstairs? My back is killing me." You admit it, the hard floor giving you aches and pains. 

"Fuck, yeah, sorry. Come on" practically leaping up, he holds out his hand to you and you grasp it in yours. You giggle at his eagerness, the sight of him stark naked leaping up the stairs three at a time stoking your amusement. 

This might be inappropriate, it might be a bit wrong, but damn, this is fun. Having someone desire you so much, who wants to fuck you over and over? Morals can kick in tomorrow. Tonight, you have a gorgeous young man aching to give you more. 

********************

"Hey, you still here?" 

You look up, distracted from your musings of last night. God, that boy had some stamina. 

"Huh?" 

"Wow, that date must have been good! You going to spill? Come on, tell me about it!" 

Blushing, you sip the glass of wine in front of you. Karen Wheeler had popped round unannounced with a bottle and you were sitting around your kitchen table whilst she grilled you about why you were smiling so much. She would lose her shit if she knew who you were smiling about. 

"I mean, I can't really talk about it." You mumble around your glass. 

"Oh God, why? Oh, he's married, I bet he's married! You naughty thing!" Her words are admonishing, but her cheeks are glowing. She's loving every minute of this. 

Why not? At least that would explain it away. 

"Yeah, he's married." 

"Oh my you're terrible!" She cackles, laughing. "How was he?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about Karen." 

"Oh, come on you're practically glowing! I know that look" She says, nodding sagely. 

"OK, look" You say, taking a gulp of wine for composure and a deep breath before it rushes out of your mouth in a torrid whisper. 

"It was fucking incredible, like toe curling incredible, you know? And he just kept going, I mean, honestly? The best I've ever had." 

Karen coughs and nods pointedly behind you. Glancing over your shoulder, you see him. 

Eddie. Fuck. 

He's standing there nonchalantly, leaning on the doorframe with a Cheshire cat grin. 

"Sorry for the interruption, just grabbing a couple beers." 

He bounces into the kitchen and fetches two beers from the fridge. 

"Me and Sammy are just working on the campaign. I'll er, leave you ladies to it." 

He practically skips out the room, leaving you red faced. 

"That Eddie?" You nod, face red as a beetroot. 

"He's grown up, hasn't he?" 

You steer away from this line of questioning, mortified that he heard what you said. 

"Only on the outside. You want a top up?" She agrees with a grin as you fill her glass up and she regales you with all the poolside gossip. When the bottle is done, she leaves with a wink, saying she'll keep your secret. If she only knew what that was. 

Eddie's on cloud nine right now, bouncing up the stairs three at a time. 

The best she's ever had. The best she's ever had. 

It's in his mind, playing in a loop. His mantra, a quote that will live deep in his chest from now until forever after. 

The best she's ever had. 

He flings the door open and flounces into Sammy's room, banging a beer down on the bedside table. 

"A beverage for you, good fellow!" 

"Aha! Fine work m'lord!" Sammy twists the cap off, tossing it in the bin. Eddie does the same, twisting to face the waste paper basket, and takes a long swig. 

"Eddie you dirty fuck." 

He freezes, ice pouring down his spine. Spinning on his heel, he turns to face Sammy.

"What are you on about?" He asks, a fake smile masking the fear that had bottomed out in his stomach. 

"I see the panties you've got in your back pocket, red ones. They're poking out! Dude, did you get lucky last night?" Sammy smirks, swigging his own beer.

He couldn't help himself. He swiped them when he was leaving. They were still wet, soaked with a mixture of his spit and your release. He'd sniffed them and got himself off twice this morning. 

Chill out. Sammy's grinning. He's got no clue who they belong to. 

Eddie relaxes and grins smugly back, laying on the floor, his back against the bed. 

"Oh, you have no idea." 

********************

Humming to yourself, you sort through the dirty clothes in the laundry room, separating darks and lights. 

Your thoughts drift yet again to that messy haired rocker. His large hands, his tight torso, his dick. Fuck, his dick. 

Shaking your head, you do what you can to rid your brain of your salacious thoughts, loading the washer a little more forcefully than you necessarily needed to. 

You hear the unmistakable click of the door behind you. Not bothering to turn, you huff as you shut the washer lid with a bang. 

"I swear to God Sammy if you need a shirt for tonight I've already-" 

"Hey sweetheart." 

Flipping to face the door, there he is. Arms folded across his slender chest, smug smirk spread stickly across his features, he stares at you. 

"Eddie, you need to leave." 

Your tone is stern, but your bottom lip disappears into your mouth, being nibbled at by your teeth. 

"You sure? Thought you might wanna see me. You know, since I'm the best you ever had." 

"Eddie shut the fuck up!" You hiss between your teeth, eyes flashing to the door. 

"Sweetheart, Sammy's fallen asleep. He had a long night. You know what that's like." 

"Eddie, that was a one time thing. God, it's not like this can go anywhere, so why are you here?" 

Tapping your foot impatiently, he closes the gap between you, cornering you between the wall and the washing machine. 

You want to be angry; to push him away and leave, but the pounding of your pulse between your legs betrays you. 

As if he knows, he slots his leg between yours, denim clad thigh hovering near your throbbing heat, pushing your sundress up in the process. 

"I know. Fuck, I'm well aware. I just wanna- help you out. Like, an arrangement" He smiles, knuckles reaching up to stroke your cheek. 

"Eddie-" 

Before you manage to form words, he's on his knees in front of you, large palms running over your bare thighs. 

"Please." 

That's all he says, wet doe eyes wide, gleaming up at you as if you were some sort of goddess and he was kneeling at your altar. 

Eddie's begging to the old Gods and the new; fuck it, to anyone who might be listening. He wants you, with everything he has. Each fibre is burning for you. He thought it might go away after last night, but it was simply a taste. A drop of water doesn't quench an undying thirst. 

This little sundress is doing nothing to sate his hunger for you. The flimsy material clings in all the right places, forcing his eyes to trail over your curves like a man starved. 

Without a thought in your head, you wind your fingers into Eddie's hair, relishing the feel of his hot breath on your naked thighs. Guiding his head forward, you shudder as his lips trace across your flesh. 

Eddie lifts your dress up, reaching desperately to pull your panties off and away before you change your mind. Slick sticking to them, he pulls them down, watching as they gradually peel from your core. 

He sits on his heels, eyes flitting from your eyes to your cunt. 

"Sweetheart, please. I just wanna- I wanna help you with your needs. Fuck, with my needs." 

Nodding emphatically, you tug at his hair, drawing him in. 

Eddie counts his blessings and dives straight at your pussy, lapping between the folds just like you taught him. 

"Oh God" you moan aloud, then bite at your hand to stop your noises. Flicking one leg over his shoulder, you force his head as close as you can, nearly riding his face. 

If anything, Eddie is a quick learner, at least when it comes to you. 

His tongue is electric, hitting all of the right spots. He feels your cunt on his tongue, leaving hot and heavy licks. Running his hand up your thigh again, he presses his thumb against your clenching hole, wiggling into your slick drenched pussy. 

"Eddie, yes!" You whisper, fingers pulling at his curls incessantly. Eyes rolling back, you rut your hips into him, on the brink of falling apart.

White hot light sears your eyelids as you  come with a stifled cry, cunt undulating around his thick digit. 

"Fuckfuckfuck!" 

Yanking his head away from you by the roots of his hair, you cannot fail to hear the unmistakable moan that spills from his lips. 

Eddie's staring up at you dumbfounded, as if you created the universe just for him. 

Panting, you stare back down at him, his lips parted and shining with your orgasm. 

"Eddie, holy hell." 

He stands, wiping the slick from his face with the back of his hand, though it does nothing to remove the grin. 

Against every better judgement, you grab him by the shirt and pull him closer, lips nearly touching. 

"You- you can't tell anyone about this, OK? Not a soul, understood?" 

If it were possible, his grin grows even wider, palm resting at your waist. 

"I can be discreet." He whispers as he presses his lips to yours. Winding fingers into his hair, you deepen the kiss, tongue moving expertly between his parted lips to taste him, and you. 

Eddie pulls away reluctantly. 

"I better go." 

As he moves to the door, hand hovering over the handle, you call out to him. 

"Eddie, wait." 

Turning his head, he looks at you. 

"Sammy's seeing Tiff again tonight, and er, Johnny's still at his grandma's." 

"Good to know." He winks and leaves. What you don't know is that he does a mini victory dance once the door is shut, fists pumping in the air with sheer joy. 

He doesn't know how long this is going to last, but he'll take every single second he can get with you whilst you let him. 

Taglist (just some likely candidates ;) )

@cursedyuta @eddiesprincess86 @munson-blurbs @rip-quizilla @emsgoodthinkin @josephquinnsfreckles @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @eiightysixbaby @lightvixxen @ali-r3n @usedtobecooler @roanniom

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

The Fun Kind of Sparring Pt. 2

Soldier Boy (The Boys) x Reader

(Aka minors do NOT interact with this post)

A/N: Sooooooo… did ya miss me?? Heh. My down stairs brain has been exercised, that’s for sure. Took five but now I’m trying to change lives 💪

Anyways, as always, all interaction, especially commentary/tags, is extremely appreciated! It really makes my day to hear that people like what I’m putting out there.

Content Warning: 🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️🌶️ If you thought the last one was diddle-that-skittle-worthy, this one… I think I’m going to need to take a cold shower. I mean, my man doesn’t stop talking. I will say he’s really sweet to the reader. A few things he says sound more like him in canon, but overall he’s really sweet. Look, guys, life is lifing rn so I just needed a sweet hot old man to talk me through it 🤷‍♀️

****************************************************

Previously on The Fun Kind of Sparring

"Good girl," he praises, and it's all I can do not to keen. I have to be soaked through my shorts by now, there's no way. "Well, what l'd do next... that's simple. I'd fuck her until she cried, and then I'd keep going. And I'd keep going until the only thing she can remember is my name, until she's gooey and clingy and a sweet little fucked out thing, all for me," he finishes, his grin from before returning back to his face. I'm losing it. I can't think straight. And yet- he's still waiting for me to make the first move. Son of a bitch.

"O-okay," I clear my throat, unable to find my senses. "And if that hypothetical girl was me?" We both know it's me, I just need to hear it.

"Well in that case I think l'd be the luckiest bastard who ever lived," he says sincerely, looking at me with a gaze that can only be described as pure adoration and lust. Yep. That's it for me. I lean up and kiss him with as much force as I can muster.

A strand of spit connects our lips when we part, and if I hadn’t heard him say all those dirty things I’d think it was the most erotic thing imaginable. It’s certainly a close second, though.

He crashes his lips back to mine once the strand breaks, demanding access that I could never be strong enough not to give. He explores my mouth with great fervor, silencing the small whimpers and whines trying to tear themselves from my throat. Once he’s sure I’m breathless he moves down, planting a row of kisses to my jaw before kissing down my neck, biting and sucking dark marks at the juncture of my neck and shoulder.

But through the lust induced haze that’s already clouding my brain I can only remember one thing.

“Uh, Ben?” my voice is unrecognizable, breathy and high.

“Yeah?” He says into my collarbone where he’s been leaving more love bites.

“What about you? Don’t you get to come in the story?”

“Oh, you’re sweet on me, huh, baby? Don’t you worry about me sweet girl, that’ll come later- no pun intended.”

“Oh, okay,” I mumble, tugging him up by the hair so I can kiss him again. “I could kiss you forever,” I say. And it sounds stupid, but his plush pink lips are just too good to be true.

“That can be arranged, sweetheart,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss me again. There’s just no feeling like it. I reach for the hem of his grey sweatpants, but he grunts, pulling away. I look at him, eyes wide with confusion.

“Sugar, as much as I’d love to give some sad sap the chance of walking in on this, I think it’s better we move this to my room.”

“Oh, okay,” I concede.

“Trust me,” he says, almost… shifty? Whatever. I’m too horny to decipher his gaze at the moment. I let him all but pick me up off the floor, and I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror embellished wall: my face is sweaty and splotchy, hair already a wreck, hickies everywhere on my neck and shoulders. Holy hell. I haven’t even gotten laid yet, and I look like I went nine rounds in a porno. Motherfucker. Me-fucker, in a minute. Good god.

“I think I’m an artist,” he says smugly from behind me, admiring the blues and purples on my neck and shoulders, and catching my gaze in the mirror. He presses his bulge to my ass, at which I gasp. He’s huge. I can already tell. How the fuck does he even-? I don’t even know how I’m going to finish that question.

“C’mon sweetheart, my room ain’t far.”

“Okay,” I mumble, stuck on the absent feeling of his bulge against me. “But the floor was so hot,” I pout.

“Don’t I know it, sweets,” he grins. “But I’ve got big plans for you, if you remember.”

I moan softly at the memory of his dirty words

“Attagirl.” The shit eating grin from before is right back on his face. “Now c’mon, sweets,” he tugs my hand in his, practically dragging me out of the gym. Before I know it I’m laying on my back in his soft bed, him over me. He somehow kisses me both soft and slow, and rough and fast, and it’s almost impossible to breath. Especially as he adds more to the canvas he’s made of my body.

“Can I?” he asks, tugging at the hem of my shirt. I nod, and pulls it up over my head, obviously enjoying what he finds under it.

“Of course my pretty girl has pretty tits too, I shouldn’t even be surprised, but”-he kisses the tops of each of my breasts-“damn, baby.”

I blush at his praise, unable to help myself. “Can I take off this cute little bra?” he asks.

“Mhm,” I say, hoping that he’ll just rip it off. But instead of being raucous he gently unclasps it from behind, teasing it off of me. He trails lower with his lips, lavishing my breasts in attention that leaves them perky and alert once he leaves them for my stomach.

I can’t help but start giggling at the feeling of his scratchy beard on my stomach as he continues his trek of kisses and such southward. “What’s funny?” he asks, obviously amused by my laughter. I can only giggle harder because he seems to catch on, now intentionally scratching at me with it. He starts kissing lower and lower, and eventually my giggles dissolve into moans as he nips at the juncture of my thigh and pelvis.

“So sweet,” he mumbles, tugging at the waist band of my shorts. He pulls both them and my underwear off in one go. “Oh, sweets,” he breathes. “You this wet all for me?”

I squeak, unable to respond to the dark, lust-filled look in his eyes as he asks. Thankfully the question is rhetorical, because my brain is already starting to get fuzzy.

He gingerly pulls off my shoes and socks, before pressing featherlight kisses to and massaging up my left leg. Just as he reaches my sopping heat does he stop, biting the squishy flesh of the inside of my thigh before returning back down on my right leg.

“Ben,” I whine impatiently, unsure of how much more of this teasing I can take before I just come without him doing anything.

He just tuts at me before continuing his ministrations. And good grief does he know what buttons to press, because my legs already feel like jello in his hands.

Finally he bites my other thigh, and I’m all but shaking with how eager I am for him to do something, anything to me. And he seems to be more than happy to comply.

“Listen, if you tell me to stop, I’ll stop,” he says roughly, sincerely, as his cheek rests against the inside of my thigh.

“O-okay?” I say, my tone far past breathy.

“That’s my girl,” he grins before diving in.

It’s like nothing I’ve felt before. It feels like he’s lit orgasmic fireworks, like far too much and not enough all at once, like… it’s fucking inexplainable. Especially while I’m physically squirming from how good it feels, while he only needs one big hand splayed over my stomach to keep me down. I couldn’t even tell you what I’m moaning between the incoherent mess of his one syllable name and the whines he’s pulling out of me.

It’s incredible. And he’s so methodical, so good at it. Eighty odd years of experience will do it to you I guess, but this is like, next level.

And before I know it my stomach is tightening in on itself, and I try to warn him. I really do. But he doesn’t even need me to warn him. Instead he takes his hand off my stomach and places both on either of my thighs, locking me in place around his head. And before I know it, his tongue thrusting in and out of me and his nose and facial hair rubbing on my clit have me coming with a loud cry of his name. I’m physically shaking by the end of it from how he continues to fuck me through it, lapping up every last drop.

The thing about Ben is that he does everything with great fervor. Passion, really, except he thinks that’s too feminine a word. There just has to be a certain exceptionality to the way he does things. When he snorts a line of coke, the line had better be four times longer than anyone else’s. When he performed back in the day, it had to be more grandiose than Queen, more ostentatious than Madonna. When he eats pussy, it has to be fucking leagues ahead of any other man or woman in the entire world.

And man oh man does he deliver. I think I come again, but it’s hard to tell from how intense the initial orgasm was and how fuzzy the overstimulation is making my brain. But he eventually pulls back, once again resting his stubbled cheek on the inside of my thigh, my come glistening on his jaw and mouth. It’s a sight of debauchery in its purest-or should I say filthiest- form. I’m panting, trying to ground myself as he smugly smirks at me, his greens eyes sparkling like cut emeralds.

“Y’like that, sweetheart?” he asks, knowing damn well I do. And yes, he’s cocky as fuck, but… he’s not wrong.

“Yes,” I mumble.

“Good girl,” and at that I clench around nothing. And he does not fail to notice.

“Aww, my sweet girl likes being a good girl,” he observes, languidly running a knuckle through my folds. I gasp, and he chuckles. “Easy.”

He surprises me by thrusting one finger in- and like he said, it wouldn’t do much with how wet I was. So he gives me a second, and I start to feel it, especially when he hits my g-spot on every languid thrust, eliciting tinny moans from me. The tinny moans get louder when he starts scissoring his fingers inside of me, opening me up as far as he sees fit. “Gotta get you ready for me,” he explains, spitting on his other hand before brining his thumb to my clit. I’m beyond fucked once the rough pad of his thumb meets my sensitive bud, gasping his name and arching my back.

“You’re taking ‘em so well, sweet girl. Gonna give you another,” he tells me before adding a third finger and rubbing on my clit even faster. I barely last three minutes of this before I come for the second-third?- time with a weak cry of his name, still ready for more. I’m flustered from how easy it was to make me come, and his words certainly don’t soothe my blush.

“Oh, look at this pretty pussy gushin’ f’me, she’s too good to me,” he groans, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out to prolong my bliss. “Aww sweet girl, why’re you embarrassed, huh? I think my new favorite color is pink cause of your sweet cheeks. My pretty girl, my perfect girl.”

My mind is so fuzzy. Ben- Soldier Boy- is literally praising me whereas he calls anyone else a disappointment or a whore. And he’s making me feel so good, not only because of the incredible sex but with the way he’s treating me.

He kisses me again before he stands up, and I can taste myself on him. I don’t mind though, because his lips, his tongue… I can hardly account for my senses, much less comprehend the taste of myself. He stares at me and finally takes the waistband of his sweatpants in his hands. I can’t help the way my jaw drops as he finally pulls them and his boxers down, and naturally he gives me his signature smirk.

The bottom line is that he’s even bigger than I had thought earlier. Like, this is a size I thought only dildos came in, not the real thing. It’s long, it’s thick, and it’s rock hard. His eyes are trained on mine, so naturally he catches me gaping and laughs. Jackass.

“You know that not all of that is going to fit, right?” I ask, a little nervous.

“We’ll see about that,” he says, cocksure. I can’t help but gulp involuntarily, but once he brings his lips back down to mine I’m right back into my whipped frenzy, pouting and following his lips like a puppy when he pulls away, rummaging in his bedside drawer but talking all the while.

“Don’t worry, m’gonna give you what you want, just gotta ease you into it, okay? Ain’t gonna treat you like a loosened whore, I could never. My sweet girl. Didn’t bring you in here for nothing, wanted this.” He holds up a small bottle, and that’s when I get it. He needed the damn lube. That’s why he wanted to come back here. Not a big connection, but for someone who’s ready to let him doin all sorts of unspeakable things to her and thank him for it, it’s a revolutionary revelation.

“Oh-oh,” I say, my voice breaking when I watch him fist himself a few times.

“Gonna make it feel so good for you,” he mumbles, rubbing a generous amount of lube up and down his length. As if it hasn’t already been beyond good. “Tell you what, baby, I want you to ride me, just to start. Y’can adjust on your own time, take it as slow as you need, okay sweet girl? ‘Cause if I’m on top… I don’t think I can make any promises.” At least he’s honest. The horny part of me wants him to just go ahead and rail me within an inch of my life, but the small, annoying, rational part of me recognizes how huge he is. He sits down next to me on the bed, comfortably resting against the pilos and the headboard. His legs are splayed, showing off the endearing curve to them.

It takes a lot out of my already fucked out self to move two inches and straddle him, but I do. He smiles, genuinely smiles, and I can’t help but smile back.

“Take it easy, sweet girl,” he tells me. “We’ve got all night. You just take all the time you need.” I’m so turned on by how sweet he is, I genuinely can’t even help it.

“Okay,” I mumble, reaching for his cock, feeling it in my hands. It’s just a little thicker than the grip of one of my hands- definitely thicker than anything I’ve ever had, but not as scary as I thought. I rub the leaking precum over his tip, because even though he’s already poured a more than generous amount of lube on himself I can’t be too sure. Not to mention the delicious gasps he’s making at every touch are enough to just do this for the next six hours.

But finally, finally I’m ready. I position myself over it, my arms encircling Ben’s wide, freckled shoulders.

And then I slowly, ever so slowly sink down on the tip. We both moan at the newfound sensation, and I physically have to stop for a second. He’s just so big. All of him is, from his ego to his overall stature, but inside me? He’s huge, and the stretch is beyond satiating.

“You okay, sweets?” he asks, recovering quicker than me.

“Yeah,” I whisper.

“Good girl,” he kisses me on the lips. The distraction of the kiss lets me move more comfortably down his length. I make it a little bit more before I have to stop again. “You’re squeezing me so good, this pussy was made for me,” he groans when I stop, and I hide my own noises into the crook of his shoulder.

“Ben?” I mumble.

“Yeah?”

“I need help,” I whine, keeping my face hidden to hide my embarrassment.

“Aww, sweetpea,” he lets out a small laugh despite himself, furthering my angry red blush. “C’mere, look at me,” I do as he says, my thighs sore from keeping me up as I do so.

“No need to be embarrassed with me, sugar,” he says softly, before bring my lips to his, a big hand cupping the side of my head. I barely notice his other hand on my hip until he slowly starts guiding me down on him, lifting me up and down where I’m and pushing me down further and further as he does so. He muffles my whimpers and whines into the kiss, kissing me so long that I forget what it’s like to breathe.

Once he’s bottomed out and I’m properly seated on his lap does he pull away, letting me moan as loud as I need to.

“How do you feel?” he asks, his own voice strained.

“Full,” I mumble, because it’s true. He’s so all consuming in this moment, all I can concentrate on is how he fills me to the brim.

He twitches inside of me at that, his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Nothin’ baby, you just can’t be throwing around words like that,” he groans.

“You asked,” I protest.

“I know,” he retorts, kissing me again. After a few moments of sitting there on his lap, I tell him I’m ready to move a little.

“You need help, sweets?” he asks, giving me a knowing look. And I want to say no, that much is probably written on my face. Want to show him that I’m capable of bouncing on his enormous cock, but I sincerely don’t think I am.

“Maybe,” I concede sheepishly.

“That’s okay, baby,” he smiles gently, grabbing me by the hips. He slowly lifts me up his length, and I can feel my walls trying to contract around him as he moves me up, clenching him like a vice. A soft groan leaves his lips whilst various whimpers leave mine.

He keeps this gentle pace, so slow that I can feel every single inch of him slide in and slip out. Slowly the burn from the initial stretch disipates into pure pleasure that leaves me whispering his name every time he bottoms out. But eventually it’s not enough, because the thoughts of his promises creep into my empty mind, his promises of fucking me. Until I cry, until I can only remember his name and nothing else.

“Ben,” I mumble, my head still resting in the crook of his neck as he eases me up and down. “I’m ready.”

“Ready for what, pretty girl?”

Jackass. He knows damn well what, I can hear it in his voice. “I don’t want to say it,” I whine. He pulls me back so we’re eye to eye, resting me on his lap.

“I think you’re gonna have to,” he’s grinning ear to ear.

I pout, my hands resting on his chest.

“C’mon baby,” he prods, thumbing my lower lip. I take his thumb into my mouth, sucking on it. It clearly takes a lot out of him to take his finger out of my mouth, he seems to be turned on by the action.

“Fine. I want you to fuck me,” I tell him, crossing my arms.

“You’re lucky I like you so much. If anyone else were acting this bratty with me I think I’d have to teach them a lesson,” he smirks, the cocky promise clear in his eyes. Before I can retort he slips out of me, and I whine at the emptiness. I don’t like it.

Thankfully I don’t have to wait long because he lays me down, resting over me in a plank just as he was when we were “sparring.”

“Y’trust me?” His thumb comes up to meet my pulse point, his other fingers grazing across the bitten flesh of the juncture of my neck and shoulder, creating the most delicious sting. I nod frantically. “Words, baby.”

“Yes,” I whisper. His presses down barely a fraction harder, and yet it’s already enough to set me off even while being empty.

“I need you to promise me something, gorgeous,” he says, making the most intense eye contact I’ve ever seen from him.

“Okay,” I whisper.

“If you need me to stop, you tell me, okay?” His eyes are slightly wide, indicating how important to him this is. It’s easy to say: “Okay,” he has all of my trust. I kiss him for good measure, and we’re back. Fireworks gone off again halfway through as I take initiative to deepen the kiss before he can. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s stronger and so all consuming, and before I know it my mind is blank again. Blank and wanting one thing: him.

He gets up and I whine, not wanting him away from him. “Miss me already? My clingy girl,” he says affectionately, grabbing a pillow and putting it under my hips, kissing my stomach.

Settling above me once again, he lifts my legs up so that my ankles are resting on his shoulders, nearly bending me in half. But I let him, I’ll be as malleable ad he needs me to be if it’ll help him deliver on those promises.

“You sure you want this, sweets? Last chance to back out,” he tells me. I can’t believe he has the audacity to let the thought of me wanting to back out cross his mind. I’ve never wanted anyone more than I want him.

“I’m so sure. Fuck me, please,” I tell him. This is the strongest my voice has been this far, and I think he gets the memo.

“As you wish,” he grins, before sheathing himself in me in one go. I scream his name, but the noise is cut off by all air leaving my body as he thrusts into me at a literal superhuman pace. The sounds are ungodly, with every thrust a broken moan and the occasional grunt from him. He finds my g-spot with ease, slamming into it with every thrust ad he pounds me into his mattress.

“You sounds so pretty, maybe we should look into making one of those Internet videos.” I moan at the idea. I didn’t think starring in a porno would be my thing until he and his transatlantic 1950s accent suggested it.

“Yeah, everyone would want a piece of this pussy. But she’s all mine,” those last three words are punctuated with particularly hard, possessive thrusts that leave me gasping his name.

He brings his hand up to my throat once more, and the moment his thumb grazes my pulse point as it did before I realize just how much I want to come. “You like that, huh. Such a good girl,” I clench around him as he presses light pressure to my throat, and even though he’s not even done anything with my clit and it’s been maybe two minutes I’m coming hard and all-consumingly. It washes over me in waves that match Ben’s pace, seemingly getting more intense as he keeps fucking me.

“Oh sweetheart, you look so gorgeous when you make a mess of my dick. I’m hopin’ to see that five more times before the end of the night,” he tells me, but I barely hear him, too engulfed in my pleasure. He somehow adjusts the pillow under me while continuing his incessant pace and his grip on my throat and the new angle has me crying from how good it is.

“Aww, what’s the matter sweets?” he coos, knowing damn well what the matter is. It’s just too good.

“You’re so deep,” I sob, unable to gain my bearings because of how full I feel.

“Don’t I know it,” he groans, going impossibly harder. Eventually he takes his hand from my throat, and I whine, until he brings it down to my clit.

“Make it a good one, beautiful,” he winks with a click of his tongue before skillfully rubbing circles into my sensitive bud.

“Ben, it’s too much-,” I protest, but all it takes is a few more circles and I’m coming undone around him again. I’m both hyperaware of my tears soaking my face and the burn from the position of my legs but also on the verge of unconsciousness with how good it all feels. My legs are quivering around him but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“You’re okay, sweet girl, taking it so well,” he mumbles against my lips, kissing away my tears. I’d never had a lay so good that the guy had to reassure me that I was okay because I was shaking and crying uncontrollably from just how good it was. But then again, prior to tonight, I’d never had a lay with Ben.

He quickly brings me to the edge again, his fingers fast on my clit and his thrusts deeper than ever. When I come I can’t say his name, I can’t say much of anything because my mind is blank. Fuzzy, syrupy, I feel almost soft while the only noises I can make are little whimpers as he just keeps going. And I fucking love it.

“‘m gonna come,” he warns, and I muster enough of my bearings to tell him ‘please.’ He gladly obliges, coming with a loud grunt of my name, bottoming out so far inside me that he may damn well be in my cervix. I can feel it leaking out of me, and even in my fucked out stupor I can remember to moan. It’s the hottest feeling I’ve ever felt. He slowly pulls out then, gently easing my legs down.

I look up at him with questioning eyes, wondering why he doesn’t go for another three like he was planning to.

“Don’t want to break you on the first night, sugar,” he says, sweetly cupping my face in his hands. “I know you don’t feel it right now but you’re gonna be real sore in a couple hours.”

I pout, unsure of how to react to that. My legs are still shaking and while I do feel tired I’m still turned on.

Okay, maybe there’s dull ache.

“Oh, don’t pout. There’s other nights, and I’m gonna take care of you,” he smiles softly.

“Okay,” I whisper, finally regaining enough sense to talk.

He leans down to kiss me, softly this time. I melt into the kiss, and that’s when I realize: I don’t just want Ben. I think the feelings might be deeper. Maybe I… love? him.

But hey. There’s other nights.

****************************************************

As a bonus, cause I love y’all: if we can get 250 notes on this post by the end of the poll time then I will do a spicy soldier boy fic with whichever of these gets the most votes. If we can somehow get to 400 I’ll do the top two! No kink shaming, okay? 🥹🎀

In the meantime, if you want more Soldier Boy try Taming the Supe!! <3

For fans of Big Sky!Jensen, part two of 2SC (aka my favorite project thus far) should be coming out next!

And don’t forget, asks/requests/thoughts/thots are always open!!

[the-goo-goo-muck]

NOW PLAYING

CLUB: SWEET TART

starring: Choso Kamo <3

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

The dressing room was still rather empty when you walked in & dropped your purse, only a few dancers here this early. Most of the time you were expected to be dressed & ready when you showed up for your shift, but you weren’t a dancer tonight, or at least not a dancer for the show. 

Tonight was the first of seven hellishly sweet nights of Shiu’s personally concocted torture. Now, having sex with these men, or whatever it is you’d be doing, was not the problem; if anything, you were looking forward to it, some nights more than others. Takuma’s insistence of “whatever she’s comfortable with.,” Nanami’s instructions of “10:15pm sharp,” especially your mystery client, no name, no services listed, just four hours of your time reserved for them. It made you nervous, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t looking forward to it. You’d probably be more nervous if not for Shiu who was typically an asshole, but he would never let some sick pervert at you. No, whoever this secret client was had been personally vetted by one of the scariest men in Tokyo; they wouldn’t be trying anything with you. 

It didn’t take you long to get ready, it never did. This was a song & dance you’d become all too familiar with. As you pulled your eyelid taught to run the black liquid over it, you thought about what Choso might like. He had left little information on the form Shiu had advertised, so it was up to you. You kept everything simple: Choso seemed like a simple guy. 

When you entered the room, you realized it had already been set up for you, but maybe that was normal; despite your years of experience, you’d never really done this before. Sure, plenty of guys paid you to “dance” on their lap, but never in a private room, & never for a whole hour, which is what Choso had requested. 

It was dark, walls covered with cheap, bright LED lights. The door timidly opened & then closed. You could make out his figure: tall, wide in the shoulders, cowering just a little, & when he got close enough, he was beet red &. . .was he shaking just a little? 

You didn’t know him, & you didn’t recognize him as someone who’d been here before, that you knew of, so you didn’t know what he’d like. He’d requested “a dance, if she pleases,” & you were both a dancer & a pleaser, though this would be a very different kind of dance (not really a dance at all)—private dances usually just meant a little humping, some hairflipping & kissing until the song ended & that was that—but that’s all he’d said. Most men left a little bit more information on the forms. “I want a blonde,” many of them said or, “I want a girl with a nice rack.” Those kinds of comments were usually unhelpful because that described half the women who worked here, & blonde wigs were a dime a dozen. But Choso hadn’t left anything of the sort, thought you knew from experience that almost any guy would like a compliment. 

“Well, hello, pretty boy,” you purred, sliding your hand down his shoulder. 

He cleared his throat, looked away, looked back at you for a second, then looked away again. “H-hi.” You had a disappointed look on your face. That was all he was going to give you, huh? That’s okay, playing the long game didn’t bother you one bit. 

If all he wanted was a dance, you’d be able to expend more energy flirting with him. Not like with Satoru & Suguru; good god you could only shudder at the thought of what they had planned for you.

“Hi,” you repeated, a smug smile plastered on your face. You’d get him to loosen up, or at least show him a good time anyways. “My name is Sugar.” It wasn’t, but the girls who’d encouraged you to apply for a job here told you that you’d need a name. Guys always liked little nicknames like that: Sugar. & even though he looked ridiculously uncomfortable, you could tell he certainly did, too. 

“Is something wr-wrong?” he asked, so worried. “You don’t have to do this, you know? I’d hate it if you did this unhappily.” Oh, so he knows what “this” is, huh? With such a rich baritone voice, you half expected this to be an act, for him to turn his head towards you, grab your neck, & tell you to “kneel, bitch.” Lots of men were like that, even nice ones, but apparently not this one.

“Oh no, I’m fine,” you assured him. “Are you okay? You look a little hot,” & this was said as you tilted your head, eyes half-lidded. Mostly, you’d meant it as a joke; of course, he was hot: two messy knots on the top of his head, eyeliner smudged beneath his wide eyes, pretty pink lips, & what you assumed were rock hard abs underneath that jacket. You wanted it off. 

“Hot? No, I’m not–I mean, I guess a little, but. . .” He was missing the point, that much you could tell. It hadn’t occurred to you that maybe Shiu didn’t vet these guys as thoroughly as you’d hoped. This guy seemed a little off. It wasn’t going to deter you, though. 

You took a couple slow steps forward, put your hands on his lower stomach. “Is it alright if I touch you, Cho?” He smiled, so sweet, at the nickname, & nodded hastily. That was the only response you got, so you took it greedily, sliding your hands up his chest to the zipper resting there, tugging it down, pushing it off his shoulders to reveal a simple black t-shirt clinging to—ding ding ding—those deliciously rock hard abs you’d been hoping for. 

You tugged on the jacking that was falling off of him & turned him toward the chair set out for you.  

“Here,” you said, & you flashed him that saccharine smile, “sit.” & he obeyed, almost like you knew he would. But he was awkward with it, shuffling a couple steps & delicately sitting on the edge of the chair, hands in his lap. 

Music was playing, rather loudly, but it seemed you were both tuning it out. 

You turned to face him, bending just a little, uncaringly throwing one leg around his, then the other, until you were pushing him back into the seat, straddling him as the chair reclined slightly. He briefly grasped your hips with his hands to steady you, or maybe himself, you couldn't tell, & the motion excited you. Finally he was going to do something, anything, but he quickly removed his hands. 

“What-what are you doing?” he asked, almost alarmed. Did he not know what was about to happen? He’d booked the appointment, how did he not understand what you were doing? 

“Don’t you want me to dance for you, Cho?” you just kept smiling; maybe if you did, he’d finally catch on.

“If that’s what you want to do, but I don’t expect you to.” Okay, maybe he wouldn’t catch on. What on earth is wrong with him? you thought. But then a thought dawned on you, & you almost felt a little sorry for him. Excited, though, at the thought of getting to show him something new, something you were sure he was going to just love. 

“Is this your first time getting a dance, Choso? You shoulda told me,” you preened, running your nails through his hair, tucking it behind his ears. You felt bad; you had figured this was old hat for him, normally people who ask for this kind of stuff have done it before, or specify if they haven’t. Had you known, you would’ve done things a bit differently. 

He looked at you a little confused, but then something occurred to him. “Oh yes, that’s what Mr. Kong said, a dance. I guess I just figured you would dance like-like you girls usually do, y’know? On the stage?” 

& this made you giggle, for a myriad of reasons. Firstly, Mr. Kong? Shiu would’ve paled at that. This boy was as sweet as they come. Secondly, “You don’t really have to pay for that, silly.” This session was costing him $500, & he really just expected you to give him what you gave 300 or more guys a night for a $20 entrance fee? Truly, as sweet as they come. But it was reassuring to know that he’d at least been to this club before. 

“But I want to. You’re so good at it. . .” he cleared his throat, “you deserve it.” What was he playing at? Was he truly this clueless, this nice? But you enjoyed hearing this because that means he had  seen you before. That made a little bit of sense, it helped clear up why he chose to do this. 

“Oh, sweetie,” you cooed, “this is a little different than that. Do you want me to show you?” & again he nodded vehemently. “Okay, but if you want me to stop, you just have to tell me, alright?” You wouldn’t let him nod this time; you’d wait for a real answer. 

“I won’t stop you.” 

You leaned in, & closed your eyes, hoping to show him what you meant. You pressed a chaste kiss & at first he just tensed up, no other response. But then he leaned into it more, encouraging you to continue. Tentatively, you lined his bottom lip with your tongue, silently asking for permission. He didn’t seem to get it, but he didn’t stop you when you sucked his tongue softly, in fact, you swear you hear him whimper a bit. &, heaven above, you enjoy that, maybe a little too much. You trail your kisses down his jaw, his neck, until you're sucking at his pulse point, hard, rubbing the plane of his chest with your hands, slowly rubbing your fingers against his hard nipples, which earns you another whine, this one much louder. You let him adjust himself in the seat & let out a tiny squeak of “S-sorry,” before continuing. Slowly, trying not to overwhelm him, you rearrange your position on his lap, bringing your already aching cunt to sit directly on his crotch, & you felt that first ounce of friction between the two of you. He moaned this time, outright, seemingly unashamed, but then his face flamed crimson. You ceased marking his neck, to bring your lips back to his. 

“Is this okay, Cho?” you murmured against his lips, scraping the back of his neck softly with your nails, slowly moving your hips back & forth, up & down. & those simple movements were driving him insane, making his head feel fuzzy & empty. “You gotta answer me, pretty boy,” & that is what does him in the most. Pretty boy. 

“It’s good, s’good, too good,” he babbles, letting his head fall back against the seat, relishing in the sweet motions of your hips. 

Without ceasing your movements, you lift the hem of your flimsy, glittery little halter top up, up, until you’re pulling it off, revealing a simple lacy red bra that’s just too much for him. He wanted to be polite, he wanted to ask, & he wanted you to do this how you wanted, but he can’t help his roaming hands; gripping your hips, your waist, & finally your breasts. His thumb reaches the wire of your bra & he tears his eyes away—rather regretfully—to look at you, begging, pleading, but silent. So you look back at him, honeyed & teasing. 

“Won’t you touch me, Cho? Please?” His reaction is instantaneous, hands reaching behind you to unclasp your bra, kneading your breasts, pinching your nipples delicately until you whine so pretty for him, encouraging him further. 

He’s sure that he can’t take anymore when you reach your fingers under the waistband of his pants, he’s sure of this when you drag your nails along his happy trail to the base of his cock, he’s sure of it as you suck a hickey into the bobbing apple of his neck. . .but you give it to him anyways. Oh, if only he could see himself, he’d be so ashamed, so embarrassed. The humiliation of it would fuel the burning fire in his cock.

He wasn’t a virgin, but he’d certainly never experienced anything like this: the heated desire urging him to roll his hips up against yours over again, until he went mindless with the pleasure of it. The utter need to feel your skin against his, rubbing his hands up your waist, your back, tangling them in your hair, pulling you up to kiss him because he just needs a kiss from a pretty girl right now; that’s all it’ll take really to get him off. & he cries so prettily when you rake your nails against his sensitive buds, he jerks in your delicate hold, the trance you have him in is melting his poor head. 

& you can tell he’s close to coming when his whines get louder & his pants get harder, when he begins to beg so sweetly for “j-just a little more, please, please, you feel s’good, you’re so perfect,” he’s rambling nonsense that runs straight to your throbbing core, & you might just be as frantic as him, chasing your own high, throwing your hair back as you moan in a way that his him coming to the pretty sound of it.

You’re both breathing heavily & unfocused as you finish, & Choso looks beat: face flushed, chest rising & falling so quickly, dick still twitching under your clothed cunt. But you have plans for him. He’d requested your services for a whole hour, & he was gonna get what he paid for. 

You slide off of him, relishing in the whimper he lets out at the loss of contact with you, but you silently shush him, keeping your eyes low, slitted & sultry, gently coming to your knees & reaching for the zipper of his pants. 

His hand grasps your wrist & he looks at you almost alarmed. “What’re doing?”

You look at him a little guiltily. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No, no, no,” he assures you. “I just—you don’t have to do anymore, you’ve done plenty, I promise. I don’t want you to do this if you don’t want to.” God you could just eat him alive. If only they could all be this sweet. 

“Cho, if I didn’t want to,” you look at him devilishly, unzipping his pants, “I wouldn’t.” 

He gulps & lifts his hips so you can slide off his pants & boxers for him. He’s so embarrassed, so shy. You drag the fabric down just low enough for you to have your way with him. You knew he was big, you’d felt it, but you’d never imagine sweet, innocent Choso to have a horse cock on him. You repressed a smirk, you didn’t want him to feel inadequate in any way; the opposite actually. He’s pretty & pink & oh so hard. 

“You made a mess, Cho. Won’t you let me clean you up?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—didn’t mean to, just couldn’t help it, I—“ Wow, the man really could not understand the concept of flirting. 

“That was the whole point, pretty boy.” That shuts him right up. He wants to stop you when you lean your head over him to leave little kisses on his lower abdomen. You wrap your fingers around him gently, marveling at how small your hand looks. Your hand is so much warmer, so much softer, so much better than his could ever be; how will he ever get off again without you? 

How humiliating, he thinks, his soft cock still twitching at the sight of you. He doesn’t stay that way for long when you suck the tip of his cock into your heavenly mouth—he can only fantasize about how perfect your cunt would feel around him—& trail your hand down to cup his balls. Fisting the base of his cock, it’s already hardening in your mouth, making it easier to take him. 

He’s biting the heel of his hand in a futile attempt to mask his grunts & groans, the veins in his arms popping out as he flexes every damn muscle in his body because jesus fucking christ how is it possible for anything to feel this good? It’s straight out of his filthiest fantasies: the hottest fucking girl he can imagine cleaning up his messy dick, a man’s truest wish. 

You look up at him & you’re met with just the kindest, but most drunken, lidded eyes. He’s nervously gripping the arms of the chair, fearful he might pass out from the immensity of it all: the pleasure, the pain of cummming twice in such a short time, the ache of desperation, of wanting you. “You’re so tense, pretty boy. Relax,” you purr through glimmery lips, coated in his cum, & at the sheer sound of your voice, his dick twitches. You sit up a bit on your knees, & delicately  push on his chest. “Just lie back ‘n relax, Cho.” He doesn’t, not until you take him back in your mouth; then he falls back against the chair, pupils blown wide with utter satisfaction, obsession. He tightens his jaw, tenses up, but he’s trying so hard to do what you tell him, to relax. But it’s so hard when every nerve in his body is begging him to come. 

He can’t fathom it, the heady sensation of pure pleasure burning through him, his cock was so hard, so desperate to come, that it hurt. But you soothed it so kindly with your tongue, working him up again, & he’s gripping your hair, biting his bottom lip: anything to ground him, bring him back to reality, because this? This had to be a fucking dream. 

You bob your head with a steady rhythm, one hand slowly rubbing up the base of him that you just can’t fit in you, his dick already kissing the back of your throat, the other hand ghosting over the skin of his thighs, cupping his balls, & it’s all so overstimulating for him, he just can’t breathe. 

“Please, it’s too much, too—ngh—much, can’t take it, can’t gonna cum, please—“ You suck hard as you pull your lips off his weeping cock, the taste of his cum already coating your mouth. 

“Where do you want it, pretty boy?” & you can sense the utter confusion coursing through him, the disappointment at the loss of your sinful mouth around him. But recognition dawns upon his features. 

“I-in your mouth please. . .if that’s okay wi-with you,” he pleads. How could you deny such a sweet beggar?

It doesn’t take you long to work him all up again. He’s not fucking your throat, per se, he doesn’t have the forethought to even try, but he’s unconsciously bucking his hips up into your mouth, desperately chasing any sort of reprieve for his painfully hard cock. It doesn’t take much for him to grip your scalp & hold you at the base of his cock, shooting his thick cum down your throat. 

You keep on sucking him, milking him through his orgasm, overstimulating him. He’s a sweaty, shaking mess when you push yourself up on his thighs to give him a kiss. 

“You’ll have to come back again, Cho. For a dance,” you murmur against his lips, tickling the nape of neck with the tips of your fingers. 

“Yeah, I’ll be back, I’ll come back to see you, you’re so good to me.” When you arrive the next evening to start your shift, sitting on your vanity table is $500 cash & underneath it is a white note with scribbly handwriting on it: “Mr. Kong didn’t tell me the price of the services, so I hope this will suffice. Please do not hesitate to reach out if this is not adequate compensation.” Beneath his adorable letter was his phone number. He was slyer than you’d thought. 

Night 1, complete.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

PART 2: Legal Advice | coming soon to a theatre near you <3

[jo-harrington]

Promotion (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: You take a Tuesday night off to surprise Eddie at a Corroded Coffin show and you both get more than you bargained for.

Previous Part: Team Building

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. (Do I need to say this anymore?) Fluffy, a little angsty, culmination of a lot of big feelings on both Eddie and Readers parts.

Note: I have been working on this part. Since January 15th. This has always been (and if you've read Peak Sales Hours you know) the way they finally reveal their feelings for one another. DAMN TOOK THEM AND ME A REALLY LONG TIME. The idea has evolved a little, but I hope the wait has been worth it. (Really gonna suck when we go back to the 2 parts of the story where they...aren't together yet but I promise both of those parts will be worth it and it's gonna make a few things towards the end of this part make sense...) We're almost at the end.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other Eddie stories and writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

“Nice fake, kid,” the gruff bartender scoffed, taking a quick glance over your ID. “Illinois huh?”

“Yeah, Illinois,” you insisted. “And it’s not a fake.”

“Whatever,” he sighed. “Enough of you kids home from college, I can’t keep up. In for a penny, in for a pound. What can I getcha?”

You ordered then turned to survey the ambience of The Hideout.

Bars weren't typically your scene.

You really didn't have a scene, if you were honest. Work and school had been your life for the longest time. If you had a social life, it was garage beers with your friends back home, or going out with coworkers after a really difficult holiday season or something. Your old Store Manager had certainly forced you to join her at dive bars and parties now and again. And now, you guessed...outings with Eddie and his friends.

When he had first told you about Corroded Coffin and their gigs, he said that the Hideout wasn't typically busy.

"It's like...like Cheers, you know? A place where everyone knows your name," he explained that first night you two had hung out. "Off the highway, used to be the local watering hole for everyone at the plant to wet their whistle after quitting time, according to Wayne. Lately, not as much.

"But the owner lets us play every Tuesday and it's good if we want to make it big someday. Even though right now it's really just...you know, a few regulars who tolerate us and clap if they're sober enough."

This, though, was most certainly not a few regulars.

Just like the bartender had said, there were a lot of kids home from college for Thanksgiving week, looking to get away from their families for a night. They'd already been milling about StarCourt; you'd seen a lot of unfamiliar faces. You wondered if this was just a convenient place to get a drink with friends now that they were back; it wasn't like the bartender was really taking anyone's ID seriously, real or fake.

Everyone was here for a good time, regardless. An old house-turned-bar with a few tables, mostly occupied, and a pool table that a group of guys were crowded around. Only a few open spots at the bar, one of which you had claimed for yourself.

It wasn't a club, it wasn't really even a bar.

It was just...kind of a shithole.

But if you were to remove all the people who were here tonight who didn't seem to fit in anyway, you felt it was the perfect venue for Corroded Coffin.

The stage was small and makeshift and illuminated by the many neon signs on the adjacent walls touting Coors and Old Style and PBR, and even though you were a little ways back you could easily enjoy the show.

You were actually planning to hang back anyhow. You usually closed on Tuesdays so you wanted to surprise Eddie.

He had mentioned, way back during your first Sunday night hangout, that you should come and see the band if you were ever free. You had brought up your schedule to him then, and immediately felt bad when he looked a little disappointed. And even more so the dozen or more times you tried to bring up the topic again, especially as you spent more time with him and his friends. Music was something you two had quickly bonded over, so you were hoping you could come and support him. But he never took the cue and never extended the invitation again.

It took a lot of bribery to get Mindy to take the Tuesday shift, and thankfully with the impending holidays, she had some time-off needs of her own. So a little quid pro quo and you had your night off.

Not to mention a covert trip to Tape World to grab one of the flyers for the show, disguised as a run to the bathroom, when you had lunch together a few weeks ago. Eddie's manager Kyle always let him have his homemade flyers on the counter when he was Manager on Duty, but they always went home with Eddie after his shift was over.

"I just have this bad feeling," he admitted to you once. "That someone would come in just to fuck with them, you know. At least while I'm there, I can...I don't know. Protect them." You understood, having been witness to how shitty some of the people in Hawkins were to him. You had dealt with bullies before, and it had gotten better for Eddie in the past few months but...he was still cautious and you didn't blame him.

So now, sitting here in this crowded bar, sipping kind of bad beer, wearing one of your brother's band tees that must have gotten mixed up with your shit from your last visit home, and waiting for the boys to appear "on stage," you felt happy that you'd be able to show Eddie just how much you cared for him. How much you wanted to be there for him the way he'd been there for you the past 6 months.

How worth...all of it he was.

And the other boys. Of course.

Eddie was the only one you wanted to kiss though.

He was the only one you wanted to do any of those sweet, sickening...ahem...sexy...things with. You really had wanted it all since you met him, and you'd gotten your taste and that was enough to smolder and turn your craving into an actual thirst.

Unfortunately, what you'd hoped was mutual attraction...never went anywhere, so friendship it had stayed.

You could always indulge in your little crush-fueled fantasies after you hung out. As pathetic as that was. Especially when you realized he was a touchy kind of guy. Hugs at the ready whenever you wanted them and even sometimes when you didn't. Hands always grabbing your shoulders to shake you when he was trying to make a point. He'd popped the arm rest up when you went to the movies so you could put your head on his shoulder. And then he would cover your eyes with his hand whenever there was something especially gorey or steamy on the screen.

"Otherwise, I’ll have to wash your eyes out young lady," he mocked with a very stern voice to mock your overprotective father, who Eddie had met once.

And on one of the toughest days of your life when his attention had fully been on you so how he remembered your dad enough to get his voice down like that...

You shook your head to release you from your thoughts as you noticed Gareth and Jeff haul in Gareth's drum kit from some back hallway and onto the ramshackle stage.

It wouldn't do to get lost in your daydreams when they were about to perform. Because yeah, Eddie was always doing things like that-- remembering things you said off-handedly, surprising you with things he thought would make you laugh or smile--and you tried to do the same for him, but coming to see one of his performances was gonna be different.

It meant more than quoting his favorite movie or getting him that snack he liked at the gas station.

This was his dream.

And you wanted to be fully present for it.

A couple people clapped kindly as all four boys took the stage and Eddie said a quick, slightly shy "hey" into the microphone, clearly unused to the crowd. You let out a tenuous whoop, and Eddie squinted in your direction and waved, but with the haze of cigarette smoke lingering in the air and the bustle of bodies that swarmed the bar to refresh their drinks, you doubted he could see who it actually came from.

So maybe you would need to worm your way up eventually. Maybe.

Once they started playing, though, you knew you would have to.

They were...

Well...

Ok they were not the best, but they were certainly getting there. They could be something great if they took the time, and you knew that was a high priority for the boys.

You didn't know what you expected though.

Certainly not like something professionally recorded or the one or two concerts you'd been to with friends over the years. Surely something closer to the bands that played during street fairs or the local venues back home.

Corroded Coffin was something in-between. Eddie's proficiency at the guitar and his overly confident stage presence once he got going, paired with Jeff and Dave who matched his energy with their endless strumming and head banging and enthusiastic vocals. And of course Gareth on the drums, who kept them in line as though he was simply amplifying the beating of his heart.

They were...one-of-a-kind.

It was a sight to behold and had you enraptured by their entire performance.

And you were surely not alone, as there was a good bit of applause after every song--none louder than you, you hoped--that caused the boys to preen with the attention. Especially Eddie, who would showboat if more than 5 people clapped.

"And now," he rumbled into the microphone, voice a little croaky, as the others set up a thrum of drumbeats and repetitive notes on their respective instruments. "Lend me your ear as I weave a tale of adventure and destruction."

You shifted on your stool with a grin, excited to see this. He'd explained it to you, how he and Jeff had been working on these little attention grabbers...stage patter...in tandem with his campaigns for Hellfire Club.

"Being a frontman is more than just singing, it's about...captivating the audience."

He told you it would make more sense once they had some more original songs and not just covers. But they were still working on it.

Thus, Eddie began talking about Lord of the Rings, of all things. Of a great journey with perilous consequences if the Fellowship were to fail, of the jaunts through Rivendell and encounters in Khazad-dûm and finally the terrible task on Mount Doom.

"And none of it would be possible without..." he started plucking at his own guitar strings, running his fingers up and down the frets, creating a haunting sound in place of a harmonica. "The Wizard."

You jumped from the stool and let out a whoop, beer sloshing over the rim of your glass and onto your hand. But it didn't matter, because when Eddie's eyes zeroed in on you, he beamed brightly and it was magical.

The moment would be burned into your brain forever, the way his big, void-like eyes got all round and soft and those lips stretched over his teeth to grin, lines carving deeper into his face in a look of sheer joy. And then glanced back down at his Sweetheart as he began to play his best performance of the night.

Or so you thought, but you were a little biased.

You were torn away from the performance as someone took the glass out of your hand and pressed some napkins over your beer-soaked skin.

"Here, watch out, you spilled some on the floor too," a deep, teasing voice said. "Jules, can you grab some more napkins?"

"Yeah. For sure."

"You Corroded Coffin's number one fan or something?" the guy asked as you kept trying to look back at the stage. You looked at him and felt uneasy. He was tall but unremarkable and had a plaid shirt under a denim jacket, a few patches similar to ones you'd seen adorned on Eddie's battle vest. He seemed like someone who might enjoy the music but there was a glint in his eyes and a smirk on his mouth that seemed...off to you.

"First time hearing them," you tried to dismiss. "Thanks for the help."

His friend or...maybe date returned with a stack of napkins and she handed them to you with her own tight smile, latching herself to his side.

"I thought it was music time, not story time," she joked snidely as you dropped the napkins on the floor to clean up the spill. "Are we gonna get out of here soon Mick?"

"Yeah don't worry," he patted her shoulder and then looked back at you. "So, not number their one fan. You dating Munson or something then?"

Jules let out a laugh.

"None of your business, who are you again?" You put on the hard city exterior you grew up with--the one that often clashed with your tight-knit community and customer service exteriors, each an interchangeable mask—and turned away from him, glad to put some distance between you.

You asked the bartender for another beer but there was already a bitter taste in your mouth and you knew you wouldn't enjoy the drink.

Mick and Jules…

---

You were happy when everyone gave them an outstanding applause at the end of the set, but the boys were quick to dismantle the stage after a stern look from the bartender.

Eddie had tried his best to have an encore performance.

"Come on Phil." He batted his eyelashes enticingly. "You know you love us."

"This isn't Madison Square Garden," Phil ran a finger over his throat. "You'll run up my electric bill."

"Make sure you tip your bartender everyone," Eddie quickly announced with a mock salute, then pulled the plug on their equipment and dashed offstage.

Dave, Jeff, and Gareth made their way back in sometime after they broke down their equipment, as some the crowd started to dissipate, and were ecstatic to find you at the bar.

"It's seriously so busy in here," Gareth exclaimed after he chugged his Coke and belched obnoxiously. "I don't think we've played a crowd like this ever."

"I don't think we've seen this many people in the Hideout ever," Dave gave you a hopeful grin and pressed his hands together in prayer. "You sure you don't want to buy us a round of beers to celebrate?" You pushed his shoulder good-naturedly but got them a round of the cheap, watered down stuff nonetheless.

"Ok and listen, I was supposed to do the intro to The Wizard," Jeff started, hand on your shoulder as though he was telling you a secret. "But I chickened out. I don't think I would have been able to do it with all of these people here."

"You would have crushed it," you reassured him. "Next time."

"No, because Eddie destroyed it up there," Jeff hollered. "I almost forgot the chords, he was so good. You seriously need to come to Hellfire one time...or Eddie can have a special session over Christmas break. That was on par with a Munson Death Monologue, if I ever heard one. Right guys?"

"Where is he anyway?" you asked.

Instantly, all three boys got nervous and it had you on edge.

"The bathroom."

"Just having a smoke."

"Had to restring his guitar."

They fumbled over each other with their excuses.

"Don't make me pull the mom card," you crossed your arms over your chest and glared at them. "You know I hate that shit."

"Only the freshman call you mom," Dave attempted to deflect.

You rolled your eyes and simply turned on your heel and exited the bar. You heard the three of them bicker as you walked away.

"Nice cover shithead."

"Me? What about you? Restring his guitar?"

"Fuck off."

When you got out to the parking lot, you heard talking. Bickering, much like the boys had been inside.

"...I'm trying to give you a compliment."

"A backhanded compliment isn't a compliment."

Eddie's voice. And another one.

You didn't want to interfere, but you were from the midwest and as a result, you were nosy.

And Eddie was your friend, if he needed help, you'd be there for him.

You rounded the corner of the building and saw Eddie sitting in the open side door of the van, cigarette smoldering between his fingers as he gestured wildly while talking.

"I don't know why you think you can just show your face here," he told the other guy.

Mick...the guy who'd helped you out inside.

"Come on Ed," he scoffed. "This doesn't have to be painful for either of us. I moved on, so can you."

"That's right Mickey, you moved on," Eddie argued. He dropped his cigarette to the ground and stomped on it aggressively. "You decided it wasn't worth it to be my friend anymore and you and Jack moved on."

Mickey and Jack. Eddie's old friends, the former members of Corroded Coffin.

He'd told you about them...in passing. You never really got the full story from him, you never wanted to pry. But seeing this guy...now...

"You decided not to be friends anymore, when we wouldn't throw our futures away for a stupid garage band! And look, two years later and you're still here? Heard my mom say you're still at Hawkins High too. Look at you, Ed. A waste of fucking space."

Well you didn't know whether to walk away or butt in and give the guy a piece of your mind.

It was a good thing that Eddie got to his feet and got right into Mickey's smug face.

"Go fuck yourself Mick." His hands planted on Mickey's shoulders and he shoved his old friend a few feet. Not to knock him down, enough to disrupt his balance though.

The aggression left Mickey then, and even from where you stood you could see his eyes go wide.

"Come on Eddie," he whined. "I didn't come out here for this. I've got friends in there and I told them I could get weed. Julie's in there."

"Julie fucking Williams," Eddie rolled his head back and let out a sardonic laugh.

You vaguely realized why Jules had sounded familiar. Jason Carver had mentioned her way back when, when he tried to play the macho protector act.

"He was sniffing around this girl Julie Williams a few years ago too..."

"She still got her claws in you?" Eddie continued. "You here to rub it in my face that you're still with her too? High School Sweethearts and all of that?"

"Stop being an asshole. I made them all come and sit through your stupid show, Eddie. You should be thanking me."

"Thanking you?" he scoffed. "You...you're just rubbing salt in the wound now Mick. Throwing me a bone thinking I’m hard up for cash. Bringing people along cuz no one would come to our shows way back when, so now I gotta know that the only way they would, is if you bribed them with weed? And Julie? Julie only fooled around with me, dated me, so she could get closer to you and you fell for her like an idiot."

"I don't know why you care Eddie, I saw your girlfriend in there. Besides, you two were never dating. So if anyone is the idiot here, it's you."

"Fuck off, Michael," Eddie muttered, turning his back to his former friend. "If you want weed, go to Rick."

There was a beat and you watched Eddie's still back and Mickey shuffling on the gravel drive, looking simultaneously like he wanted to say something, and regretting that he even said anything in the first place.

Finally, he stalked off, hands shoved in his pockets.

You ducked against the side of the building to avoid being noticed as he passed and headed back into the Hideout.

You didn't know what to do. You didn't...yeah you were nosy, but you knew you should have probably walked away when Eddie told him to go fuck himself the first time.

Still...then no one would have been out here for Eddie now. Even after all these months of getting closer to him, months of friendship and learning more and more about him, all it took was an overheard conversation to make the pieces click. You needed to make sure he was alright because that...that hadn't been good.

He'd already been in some kind of state of constant self-deprecation when you first met him, you didn't want him to fall back into it because of some asshole. You understood now why Jeff had been so protective of him at the start. You were that way now. You wanted your friend to be happy.

To see how much he mattered. That's why you came tonight in the first place.

At the sound of something crashing in the back of the van, you shuffled back around the corner and got closer.

"Fuck," he muttered pathetically. "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

There was the twang of a string on one of the guitars snapping, and then Eddie's heaving breath.

"FUCK!" He turned around and kicked at the gravel, and it sprayed across the lot before landing at your feet. He ran his hands through his hair and stopped at the sight of you.

You froze too, unable to stomach the sight of his red, tear-filled eyes and the wetness of his cheeks illuminated by the streetlamp overhead.

"So uh," he sniffed and quickly ran the cuff of his sleeve across his nose. “Dunno if you heard but that was my old friend. Who's dating...well I guess she wasn’t my girlfriend. So she’s not an ex either.”

He rolled his eyes and hung his head pathetically.

“I’m sorry,” you muttered and took a few steps closer. “I’m sorry that they did that to you. Both of them. All of them. You deserve so much more than that.”

“Do I?” He scoffed. “I’m a freak, a loser. Too stupid to finish high school or get out of this town.”

“Stop it!”

"No, Mickey's right. My stupid band, my stupid friends."

"I'm your friend, am I stupid?" you asked. You knew it was a little shifty, trying to turn this onto you, but you needed him to see that he was being...well...

Stupid.

"Maybe," he shrugged.

"And Jeff? And Dave? And Gareth?"

"Maybe."

"Fine," you pointed back at the Hideout. "But those people in there...they couldn't have all been Mickey's friends. They clapped for your stupid band. Are they all idiots too? Freaks. Losers."

"Maybe."

"That was a really good crowd, you were great up there. I was so surprised. So impressed."

"Well you shouldn't be."

"Eddie," you said in a chastising tone.

He mimicked you in a childlike fashion, said your name in the same tone, and then ran his hands over his face and groaned.

"I don't want to let him get to me like that," he shouted into the sky. "I don't...want my stupid, dumb, shithead old best friend to get to me like that. To act like it's some favor he's doing me by rolling back into town and bringing some people to my show. When it still should have been our show. Together.

"I had to very nearly give up on all of my fucking dreams because our friendship wasn't worth it to him. Because he pretended to grow up. He...he barely got accepted into a college. He was going to take classes at Tri County and keep working at Bradley's forever and we were gonna have this band and make it big one day and now..."

He trailed off and heaved.

"And now?" You pressed after a few minutes of silence.

"And now..." He waved his hand dismissively. "I don't know...nothing I guess."

You put your hands on your hips and scowled at him.

"And now you have friends in there that actually support your dream, who actually believe you've got a chance as a band. Jeff's a better best friend than Mickey. And you've got a job at TapeWorld and have Kyle and the guys there. They all believe in you. What did you tell me a couple weeks ago? Kyle wants to see if he can make you an ASM after you graduate?"

"Yeah."

"You've got...a future...and new dreams...just like Mickey does," you tried again. "Losing old friends is hard. It's a hole in your heart that doesn't ever go away.

"My high school best friend moved away and I don't talk to her anymore. We had...maybe one phone call after she went off to some out-of-state school. It hurt when I tried to call her and she never made time for me. But...then I made other friends. It's not the same as her, but sometimes it's better. Because I have Jen, and the girls at the old store and now this store and now I have...now I have you too.

"You're better than my high school best friend ever was. Tell me I'm not a better friend than Mickey...whatever his last name is."

Eddie's face went gaunt then, his eyes evaded yours and immediately went down to his feet, hands wrapped around his stomach defensively, like you wounded him.

You breathed heavily for a few moments and then softened.

Maybe you went a little too hard.

"Eddie, I'm sorry, I..." You backtracked a little. "I know I don't know the whole story. I just...I want you to know how much I value you as my friend."

"Stop saying that!" He shut his eyes and scrunched his face.

"What? You need to hear it! I know it's hard to hear how good you are--"

"No," he opened his eyes and took a step back, holding his hands out beside him, as though he was offering himself up for the slaughter. "Stop saying that you're my friend."

"But I am your friend!"

"But I don't...I don't want you to be."

Your eyes went wide this time and your mind raced.

At first you just...you thought this was him saying he didn't want to be friends anymore. Maybe you'd overstepped boundaries and had gone too far. The little insidious self-conscious voice inside of your head told you that you were dumb and too stupid to realize all the signs of him pushing you away. Overanalyzing every interaction for some indication that he didn't want you there.

But then he kept talking and you realized you were dumb just not dumb in that way.

"I...I have...kind of always thought you were pretty," he let out a dry laugh. "Well...actually I thought you were awful...way, way back...at the beginning before I even knew your name. I thought...wow it's another mean popular pretty girl coming to tease me and make my life hell. Only...you didn’t. You’re not mean and you're not a popular girl."

"And I'm not pretty," you joked.

"But you are," he disagreed. "And you didn’t make my life hell. You're everything I...well...I know this is gonna ruin everything. So fuck it. But I have the biggest, stupidest crush on you and everyone fucking knows about it and won't stop teasing me about it and I thought...after that night at the trailer that maybe...you know, you felt the same way. That we were just two dummies. I got my hopes up. I was coming to ask you out that Friday. I even skipped school."

Your heart skipped a beat, thinking about that night.

About that kiss and about...

"And then your grandpa..." he trailed off. "And how could I bring anything up after that? I just needed to be a good friend. Be there for you, like you're always there for me. Just like you're here for me tonight.

"Sweetheart, do you know how fucking happy I was to see you back there?" he asked, eyes big and round and wet with tears. "Shit you took a Tuesday night off?"

"Of course I did," you laughed. "I told you way back at the beginning I could move things around."

"Yeah but..."

"I get it," you nodded and then felt your heart ache with longing. "Eddie..."

"So no," he continued sadly. "I don't want to be your friend anymore because I just...want you."

He backed away a little, on weak legs as though he had been wounded. Especially when you took too long to process all of your thoughts and he probably took it as rejection. He turned back to the van to try and finish packing everything up.

And your mind finally caught up to your body.

Eddie liked you and he wanted to...not be your friend anymore because he wanted more than friendship.

Right? Was that it?

Fuck, why had you been so...

You walked right up to him and grabbed him by the sleeve and turned him around.

"If you're an idiot," you told him, vulnerably. "Then so am I."

You surged forward and captured his lips with yours.

It was...admittedly not like a John Hughes movie. It was sweet for a second and your heart was soaring and then his nose bonked into yours and you both broke into a little bit of laughter.

"You're not that good at kissing," Eddie teased.

"Me?" you guffawed. "It was your nose."

"Maybe we're just both out of practice," he suggested.

"Yeah." You reached out and shook him by his vest. "One uh...maybe extra high kiss on your couch two months ago is not the warmup we needed."

He smiled at you.

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Are we both just...stupid?"

"Yeah I think so."

"How long has Mindy been mocking you?" he asked.

"Pretty much since Day 1. Kyle?"

"Before Day 1," he ran a hand through his hair and blew a frustrated breath through pursed lips. "He was the one who told me I should go up and ask you out."

"No he didn't!" You slapped a hand against his chest and stared at him incredulously.

"Scouts honor." He crossed over his heart. "So uh...you wanna try again?"

Eddie waited for your little nod before he pressed a kiss to your lips. His hands sought your waist and pulled you closer to him, body flush with his as your hands became trapped on his chest. You grabbed him by the vest and held him to you.

It was sweet exploration at first, lips tentative and pliant. Then tongues got involved, painting your tastes sweetly to the seams of each other's mouth, taking turns until they gained the courage to dance together.

Before long though...you both got a little impatient and you were pressed up against the side of his van, one hand in his hair as he kissed down the side of your throat, fingers plucking at the neckline of your t-shirt to gain more access to skin.

"Didn't know you liked Pantera," he muttered and licked back up the length of your throat then lightly bit the softness of your jaw. "S'this Jimmy's shirt?"

"Please don't say my brother's name right now."

You gently pulled him by the hair and led him right back to your lips to shut him up.

Sweetness turned into impatience, where 6 months of friendship and unrequited feelings were released--for real this time. Eddie's body slotted between your legs, hands roamed, giggles turned into moans, and just as he was about to scoot you into the van for some private time away from the elements of the Hideout Parking lot--

"Whooo..."

"Mom and Dad, sitting in a tree..."

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G."

--the guys exited the bar and found you in your...compromising position.

Eddie, ever the gentleman, made sure your shirt was on the right way and your hair not...too disheveled before turning to shoot his friends with the most scathing glare.

"Alright you fucking pervs," he shouted. "Nothing to see here."

"Are you kidding?" Dave exclaimed. "This is like...Christmas."

"Yeah, about time Eddie," Jeff clapped a hand on Gareth and Dave's shoulders. "We were about to start a bet to see if it was even gonna happen."

"It was Wheeler's idea," Gareth confessed.

"Of course it was," Eddie rolled his eyes. "Little rat."

"Mike's nice," you poked Eddie in the side and he jumped. "Stop picking on him so much."

The guys all started their whooping and hollering again until you sent your own dead stare their way to shut them up.

Eddie shouted for them all to pile into the van, and once they were all inside he turned to you and awkwardly stuck his hands in his pockets.

"So," he ran his tongue over his lips nervously. "Uh...I mean...that was nice."

"It was," you beamed. "Changed your mind about if I'm a bad kisser?"

"Yeah, oh," he nodded vigorously. "I...yes...I mean, no. You're a really...good kisser."

"Not so bad yourself Casanova."

"So we gonna...do that more often?"

You both burst out laughing and then jumped as someone inside the van honked the horn.

"You wanna come to Benny's with us?" Eddie thumbed over his shoulder. "Post-show patty melts? Kind of a tradition."

"Yeah. I'd love to."

"Kay, we'll see you there then."

"Sure."

He was about to back away and head towards the driver side of the van, and you back to the front lot to get into your car, when he swept in and cupped your face with his hands. Thumbs running gently over cheekbones, lips gently ghosting over yours.

And you couldn't help but think as you covered his hands with yours, this was definitely a perk you were going to take advantage of in this...

Relationship?

...promotion from friend to something more.

---

Next Part: Peak Sales Hours

[angelbitezzz]

Recently read Tilikum by Llama_Goddess on Ao3 (check out the link it's so good) and it gave me some interesting brainrot ideas

Fic under the cut

A day dawned like any other for Sans. Get out of bed, work various odd jobs, slack off at said odd jobs, and get home to sleep some more.

Today was a new gig—Janitor work at the local aquarium. It was good, easy work. He'd been all sorts of things in his time both underground and now on the surface, so he was largely left to his own devices practically since the first day.

Some kid spilled one of those themed ice creams on the floor in front of one of the siren tanks. Big attractions, those guys. Not quite human, too physical to be a monster, they sort of floated in this odd in-between state of natural existence. Word was that the song of one would easily lead you to your drowning death. It was a good thing that glass was thick and soundproof, otherwise any of the ones held captive would likely jump at the chance.

Sans mopped away at the spill slowly, dragging out the task. The place was closing for the night soon, he certainly didn't want to be redirected to something else when he had such an easy job right here. A whistle leaked from between his teeth, some song he'd heard on TV earlier in the day.

The room was empty now. With the evening settling in and closing time within the hour, no one had come by to this one since he'd gotten here. Probably since this specific siren didn't seem a fan of performance, or being seen. You were lucky to get a glimpse of it if it was feeling curious on a given day, or so Sans had heard.

He wrung the mop in the bucket and set about just mopping the entire room, still whistling away. But a chill ran up his spine, halting his movements.

The unmistakable, burning feeling of being watched.

He turned his head slow, pupils sliding up along the glass he stood next to until they connected with a bright purple gaze that seemed to peer right through him.

The siren.

It—She? She floated right there, hand pressed against the glass. Her pupils were blown wide open, though they dilated just a little when their eyes met properly. There was something curious about the look on her face, so human if not for the subtle shine of fine scales along her brown skin. Dark hair drifted around her face, some kind of kelp braided into it at certain spots, that same stuff even braided and tied together to make up the cloth she was wearing around her chest. Did sirens care for modesty? He didn't know. Her lower half was that of a fish, something tropical he hadn't bothered to learn the name of. Powerful muscles twitched the end of the tail, keeping her afloat in the same position with ease.

He wasn't sure when he'd stopped breathing. It seemed like time itself had stopped when he realized he was being watched. Was this typical of sirens? Did the gaze of one paralyze as much as the song?

No, that couldn't be the case. Otherwise they wouldn't bother with displaying them at all.

When he didn't react behind meeting her gaze, she seemed to relax just a little. Her eyes slid along his form, taking in the details of his Janitor's uniform and the bones that were visible.

"huh. you're, uh, curious, i guess?"

Sans wasn't sure why he was talking, it wasn't as if she could hear him. But the way his eternal grin moved with the speech seemed to fascinate her. She lowered herself to be more at eye level, both hands against the glass. He slowly put his mop back in the bucket and turned towards her, tugging at his gloves to pull them tighter before stepping closer. The siren didn't move, only followed every movement with that same burning gaze.

"heya." Sans gave a little wave, the way the kid had taught him.

The siren waved back, copying his movement exactly. Then she did something new—she pointed at him. He pointed at himself.

"me?"

She nodded and did something else, crossed her hands over her chest in fists, only the index and middle finger half extended. She bumped them together at the wrist, tapping the fingers to her shoulders and sliding them down to a point at her mid-chest. When he responded with a blank stare, she repeated it. His head tilted.

"now what does that mean...?"

The siren only did it once more before she seemed to give up. She made a recognizable motion this time, both hands in fists together and turning down as if snapping something. He almost frowned.

"that a threat?"

Her face broke out into a wide smile, revealing teeth sharper than he expected before she was laughing on the other side of the glass. There was no other explanation for what she was doing, she was laughing, entirely too amused by his reaction as her shoulders shook. His grin widened a little at that. Well, at least someone here was having fun?

The siren seemed to recover from her fit and gazed at him once more, pupils dilated again. Then they flickered up—an alarmed look flashed over her features before she was suddenly gone. There was a flick of her great tail and then she had twisted away into the kelp and seaweed populating her tank, only the waves of the greenery giving away how fast she'd moved. Sans glanced backwards, feeling oddly like a kid caught doing something he wasn't supposed to when he met the fascinated stare of a fellow janitor.

"hey, paul. uh. somefin the matter?"

"....I didn't see a damn thing."

The older human just turned and walked out, grumbling something about working here for too damn long just for a newbie to get the attention of one of the shyer sirens. Whatever that was about.

When the intercom crackled to life to announce the night's closing, Sans cast one last glance at the tank as he retrieved his bucket and mop.

The siren was nowhere to be seen.

[alexlikesairconditioninh]

Geo x reader

Regarding SOL

You became friends with the group after crowe brought you in, at first you and geo didn't have anything going on, but somehow, he developed feelings— and it seems like he isnt the only one.

NOT PROOFREAD (this is under the assumption that geo knows about hyugos crimes)

The first meeting;

Geo wanted to get close to you, but he honestly struggled. So he opted for just being by your side and helping you out. He heard of solivan brugmansia all too well, afterall the rumors regarding him are very well known to those that heard of him.

But, did he care? No, not really. A rumor about some random student he didn’t interact with didn’t matter to him, besides, people spread false rummors around constantly. He wasn't intrested in finding out the truth behind the rummors. Until, he had realized you acquainted yourself with him.

It was after class, you and your friends were out in the hallway pondering where to hang out. Before you spot hyugo and sol. Youre unsure wether to not to bother them as they seem deep in conversation. However it seems hyugo could feel your eyes on him. His eyes locked with yours, and you take that as an opportunity to wave at him. Thus, he waves at you in return. Sol notices and his demeanor changes, a smile tugs on his lips and he gives you a dreamy look. A blush faintly noticeable on his face.

Geo looks away at his phone to seek out the subject of your attention— hes surprised, and certainly not pleased.

His brother.

Were you friends his brother? Out of all people, hyugo? And that guy— why is he looking at you like that? You dont seem to have any special feelings towards him, youre waving to him like you would anyone else. That begs the question, what are you to him?

He goes in your direction to get your attention. he taps you on the shoulder, and just like how its supposed to be, your attention is on him now.

"Huh?" you asked, curious as to why he uncharacteristically sought your attention. While you didn't know much about geo, there was this weird feeling emanating from him.

He takes a quick glance at his brother and that black-haired boy with him, and hes surprised to see the tall male with a deathly glare in his eyes, targeted at him— and also his friends. His eyes were ugly, blood red. Is that why hyugo befriended him? Because blood is somthing hes used to, right? Whatever it was, he immediately took a disliking to that man.

"brit wanted your input". He focused his attention back to you.

"O-oh yeah! How about the garden? I have a key for there." Geo gave a pleased look.

"Lets go tell her then". And with that the two of you turn your backs to sol and hyugo, heading closer to the group. Geo takes one last good look at the two boys. Unfortunately for him, he accidentally makes eye contact with his brother.

"OH MY GOD" Hyugo moves towards you and geo.

"SUBARU" eyes littered with excitement hyugo approaches him

"Shit..." geo begrudgingly accepts his fate.

—————

It seemed Britney, jess and deryl were the most amused at the scene hyugo had caused. They were pestering geo while hyugo took that as an opportunity, as sol's wingman.

"Oh- sunny and I were wondering if you wanted to hang out wit-"

"[name], cmon, Britney's waiting" geo interrupts

"Oh yeah!- uh" you look back to hyugo, and sol, eagerly awaiting your answer, hoping you leave that purple haired prick and spend time with him instead. "Sorry, im hanging out with geo and our friends, uhm, ill talk to you guys later!". You frown, and wave bye to them as you head for your friends.

Later, in the garden, you sit next to geo. Curious of his relationship with hyugo, after all they are brothers and you’re friends with them both! isn’t that nice?

“You’re hyugos brother? what’s he lik-“

“He’s not my brother, forget what he said in the hallway, I don’t want to associate myself with him.” He interrupts, shooting you a glare before his gaze softens. “He’s…” he pauses, recollecting his thoughts. “He’s just dangerous to be around.”

“How?” he looks away as you ask.

“Things you don’t know, he gets into shady shit” he redirects his gaze back to yours, “[name], for your own sake, and safety, don’t get involved with him… or his friend.”

“Solivan?” You question at the mention of sol

“Brugmansia?” If his memory is serving him right, then he’s not good news.

“Yeah that’s his-“

“Especially him, both of them, stay away from them.” He thinks back to the hallway and the look in sol’s eyes. One of putrid hate and murder. Maybe, those rumors were true”

“That’s hard to do, I’m in a class with them— although hyugo never attends, and I’m sols partner for an art project.”

“Then don’t make conversation with him, only do what needs to be done for the art project, once it’s done, never talk to him again— or hyugo” he instructs you, for now at least. He’s thinking about what strings he could pull to change your art class for a different period, one without sol or hyugo. If he had to play dirty to keep you, and his friends safe, he’d play dirty as hell.

“Okay.”

I don’t wanna go too deep because I wanna wait for days 3&4 for more lore and info, so I’ll probably wait and do other stuff

[fillinforlater]

Spaceship: Horizon - Season Finale: How did we get here?

Male Reader x Miyawaki Sakura & Choi Yena

Length: 2480 words

Tags: a lot of what the fucks, a lot of fucks, sudden sex, sex as a reward, threesome, friendly rivalry, blowjobs, forced deepthroat, 69, pussy eating, face sitting, snowballing, cowgirl, overstimulation, very numb, very exhausted, very confusing, commander!Sakura / dorky!Yena / puzzled!You

TW: Kinda forced with a lot of plot point coming together. Feel free to back read ;)

Inspiration: A lot of ppl wanted Kkura, other wanted Yena, and I wanted to finish one of my many plans I had for this season finale. This series is super old, hell, I don't even remember all the things I set up and names lol.

Credit: @midnightdancingsol for the late edit. Really saved some stuff, tbh. You're the best.

(A/N: FInally, we are! Season two wrapped up after HUGE holes in between lmao. A lot my newer reader might not even know this series exists lmao. This was always supposed to be my flagship, but yeah, I guess others are more well-liked. Enjoy this season finale, it (probably) won't be the last!)

“Hm! Look, he is waking up, Commander!”

“Stop calling me that, Yena! These titles are absurd.”

The ceiling above you is familiar. The cushions below you are familiar. The two do not evoke positive memories, unlike the two familiar voices that argue for a brief period of time, before they stop. 

Two pairs of eyes look down on you. They sparkle in excitement and thrill—at seeing you, perhaps?

“Sakura? Yena?” you call out the two names you associate with those orbs and reach for where you assume their bodies are. Texture—an arm, a hand. This is reality and not some weird lucid dream. You have experienced enough of those in the past to be cautious, but luckily, both Sakura and Yena are real.

“Welcome back!” Yena shouts. She wraps an arm around your nape and her following hug leaves you breathless for a second, her sizable breasts for another. 

“Back?” you respond, mildly confused, although it is nothing new to you that this girl says random shit again and again without explaining herself.

“Aw, Commander, look at him! He is a literal war hero and doesn’t even know it.”

Yena giggles, thus Sakura gives her a quick slap on the butt. It was certainly not a kind slap, but the idol does not look angry at all. The excitement and amusement do not disappear from her. It’s all absurd. It would all make more sense if you died and went to heaven. No more aliens that want you to record porn, just the weird, dorky, sexy guide from the spaceship and your favorite idol. Sounds like heaven, alright.

“War hero? Damn, I can’t even remember the battle I fought, but it explains why I’m dead.”

Sakura shakes her head.

“Yena, please, this poor guy is completely lost. Enlighten him about everything he asks for. We got the time.”

Yena suddenly straightens her posture. Like a news anchor delivering important, serious information, she tries to stare at you, but her attempt fails. Her laughter echoes off the walls and through the large room. She repeatedly slaps her thigh in loud amusement. Sakura looks pissed.

“Yena! Get your act together!”

“But how would you tell him? It sounds so weird when I try to put it into words!”

“Weird?” you say confusedly. “Nothing can be weird to me now. We are on a fucking spaceship with aliens that can shapeshift and want to film us have sex.”

Yena laughs again. “Oh boy, about that!”

Sakura, visibly at the end of her patience, plants an angry hand on the younger girl's mouth. She glares at her, then at you, and says with a bit of resignation:

“All of the things you just said—they changed. A lot.”

“Huh? How so?” you say while giving looks to both of the girls and their banter. If they weren’t so cute, you’d cringe at their behavior.

“A couple of weeks ago,” Sakura begins as she still suffocates a teary-eyed Yena with the palm of her hand, “we found ways to communicate with other parts of the spaceship. It is absolutely gigantic, we still have no idea how big it actually—Yena, stop it now, please—is. A couple hundred kilometers in each direction, probably. At first we thought it was a trap, that these intelligent creatures would not allow us to meet up in secret and share information. But then, we found the reason: all of them were watching your videos. Every single one of them.”

“What do you me—please, no!”

Your fingers dig into your hair. It feels sweaty, greasy, and definitely unwashed, the new stress is not helping either. Your pornography spread further than you would have imagined. If these aliens saw it, then other people saw it too. The size of this ship makes you imagine that potentially millions of humans could have seen you naked and get it going with dozens of women. Well, there goes your reputation, even if you ever return to Earth.

“Listen to her, she is not finished,” Yena says with a large grin on her ducky facial features. She places a caring hand on your shoulder, while Sakura places a not-so-caring-but-rather-threatening-hand on hers. 

“Don’t interrupt me, please.”

“I won’t, Commander.”

“I said you—never mind. Anyways, these aliens were addicted to the porn, the sex. Something about it made them lose focus. They became sloppy and made mistakes that left holes for us to not only be able to communicate with more and more people, we also made plans to get more information about this place and how we could use this addiction to our advantage.”

“Maybe you noticed it too,” Yena barges in. “Some aliens—especially your Worker—must have been very affected by it. Being irrational, less caring, all that kinda stuff.”

You nod. He certainly was affected. Uncontrollable, maniacal, not paying attention, getting desperate for more material, Worker became a junkie for your fucking porn. 

Your mind spins at the thought. Where the hell is this leading up to?

“Just a couple of days ago,” Sakura continues with intensity, her eyes wide open, “we were able to throw away all our strategies and battle plans. The aliens started to evaporate. At first we thought it was a trick by them and that they figured it out, but then we got reports that they probably died due to an overdose of your porn. We knew their deaths, or rather obliteration, was inevitable. And so we watched them evaporate, one by one, and we took control of their positions. We found all kinds of young people held as cattle, tortured as slaves or being forcefully fed food. Not all of the experiments were cruel of course, but I think everyone is delighted that this shit is over.”

Sakura takes a deep breath and pinches her forehead. Her rambling wasn’t all that coherent, but she got the point across to you, which is—

“So… we won?”

Your question lingers in the air for a bit. The smell of sweat and some fine perfume reaches your nose for the first time since you woke up from your slumber. The mattress below you feels wet, your legs are still kind of numb. 

Oh, it must have been them who gave you the drug. They wanted you to film the ultimate video to finish the aliens off. The pieces of the puzzle are slowly coming together, but the picture couldn’t look any more bizarre. 

“Yes!” Yena exclaims and lunges herself at you. Her entire body presses onto yours, from thighs, to tummy, to titties. Yena doesn’t seem to care that you’re all sweaty. She looks genuinely happy.  It feels great, this feeling of victory, of freedom, Yena pushes it all onto you. 

“After we live streamed your holy-moly-crazy-orgy to the last remaining aliens, they all evaporated.”

“It sounds so stupid,” you giggle and shake your head, “but I guess I’m glad. I bet there are still so many insane things that happened. No need to tell me now, to be honest, I’m not sure I understood the things you already told me. But can I at least know why you didn’t tell me about it?”

“So it didn’t look forced,” Sakura says with the attempt of a wink, “We had no clue if you would have been able to perform under pressure if you knew what was at stake. We also like to keep these top secret issues in a small circle.”

“Damn, you all sound like the CIA.”

Yena rubs her cheek on yours as she gives another hearty laugh. 

“Our guerilla group really developed into a whole organization. It’s gotten even worse during the three days you were asleep.”

“Wait, what?” you groan defeated. Another three days of life missed for something you can’t grasp yet. And what the hell do they mean by organization? The questions don’t stop coming.

“Don’t worry!” Sakura flails her arms as she shifts closer to you as well, “We used the Helper system to keep you hydrated.”

“Wait, how? I don’t—”

“We have some smart people among us,” Yena says, her lips pouty, for some reason, “They were able to hack into the system, which is why we can communicate and use the Helpers to our benefit. Communication, water, food, hell, even teleportation. These things are amazing.”

“I—”

You stare at the ceiling. It’s the same, it’s been the same, it has not changed.

Your eyes open to the possibility that this is all fake, a dream to make you feel better. It’s a simple explanation for the absurdity tenfolding with every word the girls say. But can it be true? A dream this realistic and detailed, with all the right changes? 

Wait, maybe you really died a war hero and this was your reward. Like in those old, ancient stories—your brain is coming full circles. Damn this drug, damn this fucked up spaceship.

“—cannot understand, but I guess it’s fine.”

Silence, then the two girls giggle.

“Yes, it’s basically long story short,” Yena blurts out, “You fucked, fucked up things happened, the Aliens are fucked and we won. Everything is fine.”

Take a deep breath through your nostrils. The air still feels real, the wetness on your skin too, but most importantly, Sakura still smells as good as she did back then. You’re not dead, thank God, and apparently a porn star war hero, thank God? 

“Okay, whatever,” you respond and force your upper body into a sitting posture, “Can I please take a shower now? I smell of sweat and… other, more obscene bodily fluids.”

“Not so fast,” Sakura responds and sits down on your legs. Fuck, they are still numb, you can’t even fiddle them out underneath her light body.

“Let me in on it too, Commander!” Yena shouts and climbs next to you. She begins to pull at your shirt, while Sakura wiggles out your pants from under your butt. 

“What the—hey stop! We don’t need to film anything anymore, right?” you fight back with words, while your body surrenders immediately.

“You are right,” Sakura says as your cock springs free, already semi-hard, “No cameras. This is just for you, your reward.”

It might not be the first time that your favorite idol has taken your cock into her mouth, but there is something absolutely incredible about this time. She, the Sakura, is literally some Commander that gives a guinea pig porn star head for winning a war against shapeshifting aliens—oh yeah, and there is Yena, rubbing her now exposed breasts on your arm as her ducky lips suck your neck. It’s impossible to let that sink in.

You moan out in pleasure. It’s a miracle that your cock still works after what happened during the last session. Then again, it is Sakura who uses her skilled tongue and lips to make you hard and throbbing. 

Judging from Yena’s annoyed hums on your ear as she nibbles on it with great care, she feels neglected. Suddenly, one of her tits is in your mouth so you lazily suck on the hard nipple. Sakura hisses from in between your legs, your cock still in the warmth of her mouth. She stops sucking and jerks you off to properly address Yena.

“What are you doing? This is his reward, not yours! You can’t use him like your plaything.”

“Oh stop it, Commander! I know you want to ride his cock badly and cum on it like the needy bitch you always were while we watched the vi—”

“Fine, shut up!”

Through their bickering, they don’t seem to realize the mess of moans and whimpers you have become. Yena’s soft breast firmly placed in your mouth leaves your mind numb yet blissful, while Sakura’s hand goes up and down your cock at high speed. It’s like she is electrically charging you, to the point where you might explode. Why the fuck does a foreign hand feel so much better on your length than your own?

“Gimme some of that too,” Yena says and leaps at your crotch. At one moment, her chest was all you could see, the next moment it’s her pink pussy, hovering above your face. 

Lips on your tip make you beg for mercy, but the two don’t have any. Sakura pushes down on the back of Yena’s head and you unexpectedly penetrate her face deeply. Your entire cock disappears in her mouth and she slobbers all over it. A mix of saliva and lipstick covers your sweaty legs.. 

“Ye-Yena, K-Kura, I can’t—”

“You don’t like it?” Sakura asks, her tone missing seriousness entirely.

“No, I—fuck!”

Throw your head back as Yena moves. The warmth of her throat is gone and back again as soon as Sakura allows it. The idol is thrusting her friend—or are they just rivals—onto your shaft ferociously. Because of Yena’s firmly placed knees next to your shoulders, you are unable to stop them. All there is is your climax. Resign to it.

“Fuck, I c-can’t, hmpf!”

As the two girls work together to suck out your semen, Yena bluntly drops her cunt onto your lips, its scent a bewitching perfume to make you forget the pain of your overstimulated dick. She tastes delicious, her nectar drips into your groaning, gasping mouth. 

“My turn, finally!”

Yena pulls her stuffed mouth away, but your twitching, probably completely red cock doesn’t stay cold for long as Sakura lifts herself up and after a long hum goes down on your length, it bottoms out with ease, and your mind shuts off.

“So good!” Sakura screams and starts to ride you with no regards to your exhaustion or obvious overstimulation. Her body, flawless skin, flawless proportions, flawless everything, is uncontrollably fast yet she still finds a way to make it a show. Somehow, she is able to lift one of Yena’s legs high to give you a view of what is to come (granted, through Yena’s slick and suffocation, your eyesight is a bit dazed) and then pulls the cum-stuffed duck into a messy kiss. 

It’s not snowballing, it’s an avalanche. Cum drips from their loosely connected lips and tumbles down Sakura’s curves. Weird sucking and licking sounds fill the room as Yena tries to drink your whiteness before Sakura can steal it. The two girls fight and Yena continues to ride your face to not be outdone by the eager Sakura. You feel the remaining snow drip down on your tense torso, but they are eager to lick it off of you. 

This drags on for minutes, until their mix of pants, teases, giggles and actual words are only feral moans. In the confines of Sakura’s cavern, you survived the overstimulation and are ready for another release and possible death if the horny idol doesn’t stop afterwards. Luckily, she seems close as well. Yena also starts to rub her own clit frantically, more and more of her juice covers your features. 

The moment you all cum is surprisingly silent. There is a gasp here and there, wet smooches from fucking and face riding, but other than that, you all succumb to your release rather quietly. Sakura fucks your rod and it’s erupting seed deep into her cunt, while you make sure to open up for Yena to dump her fresh nectar into you. 

Wait a minute. Whose reward was this supposed to be again?

(A/N2: maybe mine? 😉😳)

[stardropsaloongossiptrain]

Bachelors and Having a Baby

I saw another hc blog do this and I wanna do my own take~

Sebastian --

Extremely shocked when you tell him you're pregnant, but would react with a blank face and "oh, huh. Interesting." It does not sink in for a few minutes to an hour, and then he's losing his fucking mind.

Never thought he would be a dad, and convinced himself he would be a bad one. Even if him and the farmer weren't using protection, it still blindsides him

He cuts back on freelance work to help more around the farm, especially in the last trimester. The farmer is NOT allowed to do anything more strenuous than play video games. He will prob call on Abigail and Sam to help, he's not exactly the most athletic guy in the world.

Despite his fears that he wouldn't do a good job, he certainly works to make sure they won't come true. Reads a lot of parenting books and talks to Robin a lot. Those talks heal a bit of the rift between them.

Robin jokes that she's too young to be a grandma, but Demetrius cries when he's given a World's Best Grandpa mug. Maru happily steps up as an aunt and will spoil the baby with custom made toys and a ton of STEM for baby books.

Abigail and Sam are the chaotic aunt and uncle I imagine Shane was to Jas. They will babysit (mostly Sam) but expect funny pictures and wacky situations.

Elliott --

He is overjoyed when you tell him the news. He's going to be a papa! Lots of hugs and swinging you around. He doesn't strike me as the type to seek parenthood, but would lovingly embrace it once given to him.

It doesn't hit him for a while that a baby is going to mean changing his lifestyle quite a bit. No more all nighters, he won't be able to write for hours and hours at a time anymore. He finds it worth changing that aspect of his life to adjust to this new addition, a physical manifestation of your love.

Starts to change his habits early on so he'll be better suited after the baby arrives. Fully supports when you go nest mode and will move the furniture around as much as you want.

Has had a list of names for years before you even meet him. And all of them are beautiful

Leah takes on an aunt type roll, and loves teaching the baby about art and colors.

Sam --

Panics hard at the announcement. It doesn't matter that you're married, he still feels like he's sixteen sometimes, and he's worried about getting in trouble

Jodi and Kent are overjoyed at becoming grandparents, and Vincent thinks it's cool he's going to be an uncle.

Abigail and Sebastian make fun of him for being so worried about it, and help him get ready mentally to be a dad. They may need to remind him how much he helped with Vincent.

Once he calms down and realizes his family isn't going to be mad and his friends will stick around, he's extremely excited. He helped make an entirely new person! Someone he can teach music to! Can you skateboard with a baby?

Happily becomes the stay at home dad and handles a lot of the childcare.

Absolutely writes banger after banger of goofy songs for his kid

Alex --

I think he would be the type that always wanted to be a dad, just to spite how bad his was. When you tell him he's going to be one, he's over the moon. One of the few times you ever see him cry is when you tell him about the pregnancy, and again when the baby arrives.

Immediately befriends all the moms in Pelican Town and joins their gossip groups so he can get their advice and help as you prep for the baby. They adore him. He's like their pet.

Gets into what-to-expect books and takes over farm chores basically as soon as you tell him. No, you don't need to be doing all of that. He's got it. Which, I do think he would be pretty involved on the farm. I don't think he's the type to slouch while his spouse does everything. You can trust that he'll do well.

Evelyn and George are shocked by the news. George especially didn't think they'd live long enough to see it. They both love the little one quite a bit, and despite George's general attitude, he only speaks sweetly to the baby.

Haley will absolutely bury you in baby outfits as gifts.

Harvey --

Probably the most panicked on the list. He's not an ob/gyn but he IS medically trained and knows how easily everything can go wrong.

This doesn't mean he isn't thrilled and amazed in equal measure. Sure, you knew it was a possibility, but... He's so happy. He always wanted to be a dad, and now it's happening! He gets very misty-eyed.

He starts taking over cooking to be sure you're getting all the nutrients you need. You will find snacks in your bag, all healthy.

He also wants you to cut back on the farmwork, maybe hire someone for a season or two to hold it down. He would take over if he could, but being the town's only doctor keeps him too occupied.

He will absolutely do every type of birthing partner class.

He also helps set up the birth plan. He handles your medical needs until the birth. The plan is to go to Zuzu City about when the baby is due, deliver in the big hospital where he can be by your side and let someone else be the doctor. This plan fails when you deliver early and he has to step up. Everything goes well.

Shane --

He never thought he would be a dad. He didn't think he was good enough to take in Jas, and for the longest time, he didn't think he was good enough to be involved enough to have a kid.

He's come so far since when you first met. He's still got his issues, but he has a healthy grasp on them anymore. He isn't filled with loathing when you tell him, but tears up and holds you close. He feels incredibly lucky to have someone that loves him enough to welcome a child from him.

He is excited to prep for the kid. He was around when Jas was born, so he still remembers a fair bit about the baby years.

Jas can't wait to be a big sister. She likes playing with Vincent, but it would be even better to have a brother or sister. Marnie tears up when you both tell her the news. She's already a great-aunt to Jas, but looks forward to welcoming your baby as well. If you call her Grannie she will melt.

Shane absolutely faints in the delivery room. Man thought he could handle it. He cannot.

He's a very attentive dad. He never, ever wants this part of him to feel like it's not loved or good enough.

[roanniom]

Hi! I love the bits you've done for King!Steve, just how he pursues and gets a nerdy reader is just so 🥴

Thank you!! I just love the idea that it's practically a sport for King!Steve to find, break, and fuck the nerdiest girl he can find.

King!Steve Harrington x fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, semi-public sex act, finger/rubbing, King Steve is a coercive douche but he's hot so we let it happen

You're the girl volunteering at the library, and Steve's been sent to the library during free period to write an essay as punishment for being a dick in English. He clocks you immediately, eyes narrowing as he takes in the length of your skirt as you reach a high shelf to put away a book. He takes in the way you nervously adjust your clothes when you notice him looking.

"Can...can I help you?" you ask, stepping forward because you just realized that the librarian is out to lunch and you're alone in the library with the hottest guy at Hawkins High.

"Yeah. Yeah I think you can," Steve replies, a slow grin spreading across his face.

You don't even know how it happens, really. All you know is that soon you're locked in one of the study rooms, your ass perched on a table with King Steve standing between your spread thighs. He's sucking bruises down the column of your neck, one hand rooting around under your skirt to grope at the inside of your thighs and the other planted squarely on your breast beneath your bra. You cling to him to pull him as tightly against you as possible and you feel the bulge awaiting you behind his zipper.

"Oh - oh god. Steve!" you gasp out.

"Ohhh so you know my name, huh baby?" Steve asks with a chuckle. He bites down on your collarbone lightly and you hiss. "That's not really fair. I don't know your name."

You tell him, surprised to hear how out of breath you sound to your own ears when you do. Steve says it back to you and it causes even more wetness to pool at your center. As if he can immediately tell, Steve's grin becomes a dark smirk.

"You like it when I say your name." It is a statement, not a question, but you both know it's also a fact. Steve pulls back to look at you and shakes his head. "But I think I'm going to keep calling you baby. That okay?"

You nod dumbly and Steve nods along with you, mimicking. It is that moment that his hand finally slides all the way up, making contact with your sticky panties. He drops his jaw in a faux gasp.

"You're wet for me, baby." Again, a statement, not a question. You try to hide your face in his neck but Steve won't let you. "Don't be shy. Don't you know what you're doing to me, pretty girl?"

To punctuate his statement Steve takes your hand and places it on his clothed erection. Your eyes widen as you feel how big and hard he is through the fabric. You bite your lip and Steve reaches up to rescue to plush flesh, pinching it between two fingers.

"Seems like we want the same thing here, huh baby?"

You nod again, gazing up at him, but your eyes slam shut and your brow furrows as he slides his fingers past the edge of your panties, immediately finding and rubbing circles into your clit. If you weren't already seated on the table, your knees certainly would have buckled.

"Yeah, Steve. We do," you manage to mumble in reply. Steve sucks another unrelenting hickey into your neck before sighing dramatically.

"Well I want to make you feel so good. And I know I can, baby," he trails off, finger sliding down to your entrance, pushing in a bit experimentally so that you gasp and squeeze around him. He stops short of pushing in fully, however. "But I can't."

"You...why not?" you ask, your voice heavy with disappointment.

Steve pulls back to look at you, an animated frown on his face.

"I have to write this fucking essay, and I'm pretty bad at those so I'm sure it'll take forever - ,"

"I'll do it!"

Steve quirks an eyebrow at you.

"You'll do what?"

"I'll write the essay for you," you blurt out, kicking yourself internally for how needy you sound. "I mean, essays are really easy for me. I can get it done in no time."

Steve's face lights up in a brilliant smile that melts your insides, all while his finger slides back up to your clit, rubbing at it softly.

"You'd do that? For me?"

You do your best to bite back a moan from his stimulation and nod fervently.

"Yeah, 'course." You sound exactly as eager as you are. Steve gathers you in his arms and hugs you to him in response, primarily so you can't see the triumphant smirk that he can't bring himself to suppress. When he pulls back, he's already pulling his hand from you (much to your displeasure) and unbuckling his belt.

"Well then let me repay the favor." Steve pulls his cock out of his jeans, spreading your wetness all over so he can stroke himself smoothly. You eye him with a hunger he enjoys, especially knowing that only a short while ago you'd been looking at him timidly. The knowledge of your transformation, and his hand in it, boosts his ego and hardens his dick even further than the sight of you waiting for him to take you.

"Open those legs for me, baby. That's it."

-

--

---

----

Fuck he's the worst and I need him to fuck me. Hope you enjoyed!!

[vanillaxoshi]

Elements Seperated - Human form not (really) needed

It’s nice, Gempa thinks, waking up to the warmth of your family, feeling their presence, knowing they’re all here. Safe and sound, but he needs to get up. Slowly not to wake his siblings, the earth spirit made his way out from under the blanket to welcome a new day. He glances at the clock on the table. It’s still early in the morning.

And it seems his older brother already got up too. Old habits die hard huh?

Slipping off the bed, Gempa’s form shift and changes. There’s no need for a detailed human form right away, just whatever will let them function. Both spirits ended up just looking like vaguely humanoid constructs decorated by their elements, but nobody will mind.

“Mrgh… Guys?”

Their master, Boboiboy asked in his sleepy morning voice. He must have woken up because of their absence.

“Yes, we’re here Ori” Gempa touched his forehead against Boboiboy’s, shards of mineral gently brushing Boboiboy’s bed hair out of his face.

“What day is it?”

“It’s a Sunday. You can sleep in if you want”

Boboiboy looks at his current state, surrounded by the still asleep orb elementals, chuckling.

“Yeah, I think I’ll have to be in bed for a bit”

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me”

A look in the fridge tells him he’ll probably need to go grocery shopping today, but for now, this is plenty ingredients for both breakfast and lunch, there are also leftovers from yesterday.

At the kitchen area, he spots Hali opening the cupboard with a limb made of red lightning, bringing out a bag of coffee instead of cocoa.

“Coffee?”

Gempa nods. He usually prefers tea but coffee doesn’t sound half bad this morning. The lightning spirit hits a few buttons, and got the coffee machine working. The delightful smell spreads throughout the house, successfully rousing another of their sibling out of sleep.

“Good morning you glorified chandelier”

“Good morning to you too, Hymenopus Coronatus”

No, Solar didn’t cast a spell on Hali. The two are simply calling each other by what they look like now. Gempa goes back to cooking after saying his own good morning to the spirit of light, seeing no reason to worry about a fight.

“I smelled coffee”

“Yeah, making some right now. Want any?”

“Obviously”

The sudden increase in lighting for a brief moment tells huge spirit of earth that Solar just had his coffee.

A warm beverage goes well with this peaceful morning, Gempa thought, as one of his arms brought the cup to his ‘mouth’. Just this finishing touch and breakfast should be ready. Suddenly, the doorbell rang, he could hear the fastest game of rock paper scissors ever happen, and Solar walking towards the door.

It’s natural one would prefer nice home cooked meals over rations, and Fang certainly isn’t the best chef, so eating at Tok Aba and Boboiboy’s house it is then. Not that he would ever admit that out loud, it’s embarrassing. He can give a compliment when it’s due though and it shall be expressed in actions.

But either he misremembered, or something bad has happened, as the one who opened the door… Whoever it is definitely isn’t human. A body made of light with no discernible features save for limbs, hands with blackened tips, and worst of all is their head. It was like one of those ‘biblically accurate angels’ he was shown by Gopal once, golden rings intertwined together, covered in silver eyes and mystical patterns. In the middle of it all, is a white dwarf.

It took Fang a few seconds to process what in the name of stars he just saw, but he reached for the door handle and pushes it back.

“My apologies, it seems I’ve gotten the wrong house-“ the alien said as politely as possible, while frantically trying to close the door.

“Wait a minute- Child it is I- Wait no, Fang it’s me, Solar!” The light spirit was also frantically trying to convince Fang it’s him, while keeping the door open.

Breakfast was nice, but Fang wished he had a warning about the elementals not bothering to look human today.

“Please, transform properly before opening the door?”

“Sorry about that. You know caffeine has no effect on us”

The purple haired alien could only sigh and bury his head in his hands. Now he knows why all those ancient civilizations were so spooked by the elementals

- By your pal, SP Anon

Drew the scenarios :)))

[puppiesandnightlock]

LINK: I Just Really Hate Your Face

summary: Top Student Damian Wayne is assigned to tutor his high school's resident Juvenile Delinquent, Jonathan Kent, who seems less interested in his work and more interested in his handsome tutor.

Damian is *not* having it.

aka the Bad Boy x Good Student Jondami AU no one really asked for but i delivered anyways

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that, sir?” Damian gritted out, unbelieving. 

Oblivious to the pain in his voice, the principal repeated what he had said just moments before in an overly-cheery tone.

“You are being assigned to tutor Jonathan Kent. Hopefully, you’ll be able to get his grades up by the end of this year, for both semesters. And perhaps you may be able to corral him into actually showing at his classes.”

Damian controlled the scowl beginning to show on his face. Jonathan Kent was the worst possible student he could have gotten. What would merely associating himself with a boy like that do to his spotless reputation? Surely, this would be placed on his record, and he didn’t see how tutoring the school’s resident juvenile delinquent would appeal him to universities.

And he was supposed to influence him? Gods above, help him.

“Sir. With all due respect, why is he even in this program? Certainly there are many other viable candidates…more respectable people that would benefit from my teaching.” he attempted to phrase this in a way that was not outright insulting.

“Damian, you are well aware, I'm sure, that you are this academy’s top student, and you’ve worked hard to get to this spot, unlike many other kids. I think that you can give Mr. Kent a push in the right direction, if not outright change him for the better. You signed up for this program, did you not?”

“I did, sir.” if not only for the nice view if would give his college admission.

“Then you will work with the student assigned to you. However, if there is no improvement, or you truly can’t manage him, you will have the option to switch, or drop the program completely. Is this more reasonable?”

Hm. It would have to do. “Yes, sir. Thank you sir.”

Let it be known that Damian Wayne was not a quitter, and stubborn enough to move a mountain with a single word if he so chose. Jonathan Kent would be a changed student by the end of the year, if he had his way.

Jon Kent rolled into school at approximately 12:37 on a saturday morning, already fifteen minutes late to his tutoring session. It was absolute hell for those forcing him to go to even make him get dressed, and he was prepared to stall as long as possible. Hell, if he was lucky, the tutor would be pretty and he could score himself a ticket outta there with a wink and a few well timed smiles. 

He entered the library, doing a quick once over, straightening his jacket and checking his eyeliner.

“Your studies are much more important than your appearance, Mr. Kent.” a voice drawled from behind him, and as he turned, a smirk came over his features.

Hello, Gorgeous.

The boy in front of him had delicately sharp features, striking green eyes framed by long lashes. His skin was a tantalizing carmel, clashing beautifully with the forest sleeves of his sweater. 

“If you could remove your jaw from the floor, we should begin.”

He had a mouth on him too. Perfect. 

“No name for me? Guess I'll just have to call you Beautiful.” Jon purred, the other boy’s face twisting in something that was definitely not a blush.

“It’s Damian. My name is Damian. We’re fifteen minutes behind already, if you could please take a seat.” 

Jon sidled up to his side as they walked towards the table with a sheaf of papers. 

“Damian, huh?” he tested the name out, rolling off his tongue pleasantly.

“Sounds familiar. Have we had a class together? I could swear we have chemistry .”

Damian looked torn between strangling Jon and strangling himself, settling only for a glare.

Jon was getting slightly annoyed. This guy was not taking the bait, and that was an excellent line for a nerd. 

“ Sit. ” Damian pointed to the chair, Jon muttering ”Bossy.” under his breath.

“Let me make myself extremely clear, Jonathan, I have one job here, and that is to raise your grades. If I don't, it will not look good for me, and will look even worse for you. I’m not here for you to flirt with, make friends, or be stared at, nor roped into whatever it is you have going on here.” Damian gestured to his whole with a manilla folder in hand.

Well. If that wasn’t both flat out rejection and  warning all at once, Jon'd be dammed. It hurt his pride slightly and added more fuel to the slowly building flame of annoyance.

“And what is this , exactly? Is that why you’re here? Teacher’s Pet turns the bad one into a brand-new man ?” 

Damian snorted. “As if anyone could part you from your disastrous fashion and life choices. No, as I've stated, I'm here to make your grades better, by having you do all the work.”

“That’s a contradictory statement.”

“Would you look at that, you’re already using your big boy words.” He deadpanned, flipping open the folder to show Jon’s transcripts.

“Honestly, just looking at these makes me want to burn them. The only class you are currently passing is AP Physics, with an 89%.” 

Huh, apparently he wasn’t completely dense.

“I can taste the approval, do good grades turn you on?” Jon taunted. “Must be so great, getting all the way to the top with only Daddy’s money.”

A dangerous scowl overtook his face and Jon quickly realized that was too far for today.

“For your information, Kent , not everyone has managed to stay in this school based on money and reputation alone, despite your clearly projected opinions. Now, should we get started, or do you have any more poorly based comments to share with the class?”

Jon glowered at both him and the papers, shaking his head once in a firm “No.”

“Good.” Damian’s smile was predatory in a way where he knew he had already won.

The other boy put up a stubborn fight when it came to learning, purposefully answering questions wrong and poking at Damian to watch him snap.There was a self-satisfied smirk when he did so, the older boy looking as if he wished to slap it off his face. 

After the third or fourth time of this, Damian slammed the math book closed.

“Kent, I’d like to pride myself on endurance when it comes to annoyances, due to several older brothers and sisters. However, should this continue, I have no qualms about leaving you to repeat your next two years five times over.”

“Can’t handle the heat, get out of the oven.” Jon challenged.

Damian, to his annoyance, appeared unfazed. “I should be saying this to you, when a few years from now, you’ll still be here. Now, should I go, or will you at least look like you’re attempting to be competent?”

Pretty face, pretty form, ugly words. 

Jon bit at his bottom lip, face turning into more of a petulant pout then a scowl. “Fine.”

What a child.

Damian made a dismissive ‘tt’ noise, and began the lesson again.

Two hours later, they emerged from the school, one with his pride flattened and brimming with emotions, and one with a folder and a smug smirk.

Jon spotted his elder brother Kon in the corner of the parking lot, perched on a motorcycle. He had a stupidly knowing grin on his face, causing Jon to scowl.

He swung a leg over the side and held onto his brother’s jacket.

“Next week, I expect you to be on time. Understood, Kent?” Damian tapped a pen to the large folder he held. He seemed completely undaunted by the fact that there was a motorcycle being driven by the school’s ex-local bad boy in front of him.

“Whatever.” 

“Try again, Kent.”

Jon huffed. “Yes, I'll try to make it on time.” 

“Good.” Damian flipped through the folder in front of him. “Your superiors will be pleased with these results. If you continue like this, we’ll be seeing a significant increase in your performance marks.”’

He nodded towards Kon as he closed the folder. “Have a pleasant evening, Connor. You as well, Jonathan.”

He walked away and the moment he was out of earshot, Kon pulled off his helmet and began to howl with laughter.

“Oh my God, you are whipped !” 

“Shut the fuck up, Connor, I am not and I hate his guts! Self-righteous little brat .” Jon hissed.

“He has you wrapped around his finger! At this rate, he’ll have whipped you into shape by the end of the semester!” He wiped away tears of laughter, chuckling still.

“I will resist.” Jon scowled. “And you’re smudging your eyeliner.”

“Am not! Brat.” Kon then returned to his knowing smirk. “Bet five bucks you thought he was hot, tried to hit on him and he rejected you to high hell.”

Jon’s silence was proof enough, sending Kon into another fit of laughter.

“Those Wayne boys, Jonno. The way you were headed, I’m surprised fate’s taken this long to send one to you. First Wally, then Roy, then me, and now you.”

“I will continue where I'm headed, and no stupid, annoying, pot-stirring stuck up good boys with pretty eyes are going to change me. Now drive.”

He kicked his older brother’s leg, Kon pulling his helmet back on. “Whatever you say, superbrat. But when you come crying to me when you can’t get past their straight A’s no-time-for-feelings exterior, I’ll have a bigass ‘told you so’ waiting for ya.”

Jon glowered as the bike started up. “Well, you can save it, cause it won’t happen!”

“Can’t hear you!” Kon sing-songed over the roar of the bike.

“Asshole!”

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Hi, if you’re still doing Doctor Who fanfics, I was wondering if you could please write a silly little 11th Doctor x Platonic!TimeLord reader where they are best friends and have a relationship dynamic like Joey and Frankie from the Basement Yard Podcast.

Like they’re in a dangerous scenario and one of them makes a joke and they both just start laughing. Or when they’re on the TARDIS they’ll be arguing and then one of them says something that reminds them of a song and they both just start singing it. And they use insults and a term of endearment.

I think this would be really fun and silly, but no worries if you don’t want to.

Thanks<3

okay I’m gonna be honest, I have no idea who those guys are but I’ll still do this idea.

Okay so one thing the 11th doctor is the best next to Tennant (yeah I’m biased cause Matt smith is MY doctor).

and yeah being friends with 11’s doctor is a WILD ride!!

yet at the same time you guys just click with one another from the moment you guys meet.

let’s say both of your chaotic energies just mesh together like fish fingers and custard hehehe

and that sometimes can be pretty strange or confusing to others especially when it comes to saving the galaxy

like this one time when you, the doctor and the Ponds got ambushed by the Daleks.

“Resistance is futile. Prepare to be exterminated!”

“Damn and I think I left the stove on in the Tardis.” You say.

at that comment 11 couldn’t help but say.

”how many times does this make? The fourth? The fifth?”

”lucky number seven actually my friend. But you’ve forgotten plenty of times. Remember when you thought a grease fire could be extinguished with water?”

“And you could’ve told me that?”

after briefly glaring at one another you both start to laugh.

“What is all this?” Proclaimed one of the daleks.

”it’s better you go with it” Amy said.

There was also another time with some space pirates that had taken a town hostage for their crops and money (real bugs life type situation)

they had you and the gang in cages along with the villagers and the pirate captain was going on a villainous monologue of how he was superior than these foolish villagers.

"With the subordination of these meek-little farmers, soon the entire galaxy will know my name! BLAZER THE WRATHFUL!!!" the pirates soon uproared in celebration, but soon a loud laugh overcame that.

It was your laughter.

"Something funny monkey!?"

"I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry my dude, did you say your name is Blazer-fury?"

"Yes!"

"So do you--shoot blazers out of wrath?" you ask.

"Enough out of you! Or we'll kill you first!"

But you couldn't help but snicker under your breath. The Captain turns back to you demanding what's funny.

"I'm sorry. My guy I am soo sorry. I just keep thinking to myself of how every morning you standing in front of them mirror saying to yourself, 'You know what would be a real kick-ass name! BLAZER THE WRATHFUL!!' HAHAHAHAH! That's how I hear you in my head. Remember Doc like that movie?!"

"Which one? You mean the Dinosaur one? Ahh I remember when we got to have those dinos on a space ship. That was a fun time."

"No, no, no Doctor you know the one with the talking Raccoon."

"Oh yeah. Huh? Art imitates life."

"RIGHT!?!? HEY! HEY CAP! What was your second choice gonna be? BLAZER THE SCROTUM HEAD!?"

At your comment, you had his entire crew laughing when Blazer the wrathful puleld you against the bars, his sword to your neck as he sneered.

"That's it wench! You die now!"

"Well, dying would certainly be better than living in a galaxy where a misogynistic moron who thinks Blazer the Wrathful is a kickass name." you said bluntly before using your taser gun that River gave you the last time you both met.

In the end, you all saved the village and defeated the piarates.

Overall, when it comes to being you and the Doctor, you better watch out cause there's bound to be some chaos, mischief, and a bit of eye-rolling due to their chaotic energy together.

"Hey Doc! Where's the flux-capacitor on SEXY?"

"She doesn't have one of those, this is a TARDIS, not a Delorian."

"Do you think she'd be able to transform into that?"

"No! I like her this way and this way she'll stay."

"Then can you make me a time-machine Delorian?"

"No."

"C'MON DOC!!"

Yeah, chaotic energy at the max.

[silverflqmes]

໒⦂ 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.

synopsis. rosaria is assumed to be bitter among those who don't know what she's been through, but you don't care what they say about her.

genre. hurt / comfort

tw. consumption / mentions of alcohol

rosaria x gn!reader.

"did you hear rosaria skipped out on church duties today to drink at angel's share again?"

"i heard she's been playing with those daggers and knives again.. as expected of an adopted daughter of the grand master.."

"no way! last time she joined in to pray, she couldn't even say the name of our beloved archon, barbatos! how dare she!"

"you're kidding- last night i caught her walking home with master diluc and kaeya! you don't think she's-"

"shh, guys! i think she's heading back!"

the woman in question ascended the steps, a look of indifference on her countenance as the click of her heels bounced through the arched walls of the cathedral. it silenced her fellow sisters almost instantly, just as it had many times before whenever she entered the room.

rosaria was far from being deaf, and certainly not an idiot. their chatter slipped into her ears as clear as any other occasion. though she couldn't give less of a damn to hear the same old.

it wasn't it was anything new to hear, anyway, certainly not from a church full of sisters. no one was an exception to gossip, and the cryo user knew it. because of that, there was hardly a need for getting heated or putting them in their place.

let them think, let them talk. if that was how they planned to waste their breath, then it'll be theirs, not hers.

however the burning sensation behind her head did get rather annoying over time.

slowly, rosaria turned to raise a brow, grey eyes slitting. "something the matter? or can i carry on with my day."

her words sliced through the clique of girls like the knives she carried as they shook their heads profusely. "o-of course not, sister rosaria!" typical, can't even own up to their actions.

rosaria's gaze lingered a moment longer before she averted her eyes, not bothering to answer as she continued down the crimson carpet.

only idiots with no lives had time for drama, and that wouldn’t be her, not in million years.

"have i kept you long?" she asked, bringing her steps to a full stop when she found you, nose buried in whatever book you managed to pick up this time. rosaria could only wonder how you had the patience for stories.

lifting your head from what you were reading, a small smile crossed your lips when you found your girlfriend standing there. "only a minute." you joked. "ready to go?"

that's right. having gone unnoticed on the bench you had sat on to read, you had heard it all. from the badmouthing all the way to the arrival of the fuchsia haired sister.

it brought a frown to your lips to hear her fellow colleagues speak so lowly of her, as though she had been the filth of the earth they walked on. a bastard child, unworthy of the purity a servant of barbatos beheld — that was how they viewed her.

though what angered you more, was that rosaria stayed silent. no matter how many comments have been uttered regarding her, never once had she reprimanded or reacted to them.

perhaps it was just her being the bigger person, giving the benefit of the doubt.. but you couldn't bear it. as her lover — the person who cared the most for her in the cruel world you both lived in — you couldn't stand it anymore.

but what could you do?

"rosa, why won't you let me tell them off- they deserve to hear every word of it and more!"

"it's not for you to say, and it isn't worth it. they will continue their rumors and create even more if you speak out. don't meddle."

absolutely nothing.

as you opened the cathedral door for her, you blew a soft whistle, peering up at the sky; dusk melting into twilight. "nightfall is almost upon us, huh." came your soft comment as you looked to the woman beside you. "are you gonna be clocking in soon?"

rosaria was always on her vigilante shit, deep into the night when even the rumored dark knight hero was out.

but today would be different.

"if i was, i wouldn't be walking into city as i am with you now." she responded curtly, eyeing her clawed nails. "did you want me to work?"

you shook your head. "no, i was only checking. was there anything in particular you wanted to do?" a simple question, though part of you had known her answer already.

a quiet scoff. "i think you already know the answer to that. a long day's worth of praying and chanting calls for some needed wine."

hearing that made you chuckle as you rolled your eyes. "it's a good thing i brought a bottle, then." you hummed out, rummaging through your bag before pulling out a finely aged flask of dandelion wine. "care to share it with me? or will it be the same exact thing, but with a price at angel's share."

rosaria nearly wanted to roll her eyes but the smile on her lips said otherwise. "i suppose it would be rude to refuse such a delicacy." she hummed out, leading you down the steps to the docks overlooking cider lake.

with a grin of your own you walked to the end of the dock and sat with her, popping the cork before handing the bottle to her. "you first, let me know how it tastes."

rosaria scoffed, "a generous move to offer up the first taste, but you make it hard to refuse." she jested, taking a long sip before loosing a breath. "best wine i've had in awhile, though."

you brought the bottle to your lips, nodding after the sip you took. "agreed. but, that's what matters most." you assured, looking out to the horizon. "on a more serious note, though." your smile sullied a bit as you turned to face her. "how much longer do you plan on ignoring them while all the gossip spreads."

the cryo user fought the urge to sigh, having expected to hear something like this. “until i’m in the ground for good.” she answered calmly, taking another swig before wiping her lips. “it will only spur them on if they hear it bothers me.” it was true, people did get a sick high from knowing they got to someone.

“and i can’t tell them off?” you offered, looking over at the icy skinned woman. “i know i’m not one to say anything, but i would for you, rosa. in a heartbeat.”

she eyed you for a second, ready to tell you know — which you were prepared to hear. but her next words.. took you by surprise.

“i know you would.” the sister answered softly, bringing your head to her shoulder. “perhaps it’ll make drama entertaining for a change.”

notes. i forgot i had this sitting.. anyway rosaria my love<3 first character i ever wanted<3 loosely based on a shawn mendes song called bad reputation ( hence the title lol ) cuz it just screamed rosaria</3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

[gnrbitch]

Old Friends

SlashxY/n

Warnings: mentions overdosing, profanity

Angst!!!

Includes flashbacks

————

1990

“NURSE!” Dr. Noel called to the girl, who was already rushing to his side. “Get me the narcan” He said as Y/n slammed it into his hand, looking at the doctor slam the needle into his body, he told Y/n to forcefully push down on his stomach, watching his heart rate start up again on the machine, they sighed in relief. Then…

The man on the table sat up as he puked all over his clothes. Y/n quickly grabbed one of the bowls and put it in front of him. “I’ll go get him a gown” Y/n said as she left the room. Walking away, she caught Dr. Noel tell the man “Good to have you back Mr….”

As Y/n walked back to the ER with the gown in her had, she stumbled upon Dr. Noel, “Y/n” he said, “We moved him to room 505, I want you to run an IV on him and keep this low profile, the guys famous” He said as she shook her head, working in a hospital in LA, she certainly has seen some big names come through that door.

“Hello?” She said as she walked into the man’s room, seeing him lay there in his puked covered clothes “I bought you something you can change into” she said handing the man his gown, “I’ll be back to start you on an IV Mr… Hudson” She said as she read the name Saul Hudson on his chart, quickly snapping her eyes back at him…

*****

1986

“Don’t you think it’s a bit hypocritical for a nurse to be smoking a cigarette” Slash said coming out of their bedroom, rubbing his eyes.

“You try studying the Drug Handbook and tell me how it goes” Y/n rolled her eyes at her boyfriend, walking over to the couch, he gave her a kiss “Yea yea, you know i’m only joking baby” he laughed, “I know” Y/n sighed, “I’m just so stressed” She said putting the book down, gesturing her boyfriend to sit next to her.

“Don’t be, you’re gonna be the best nurse ever.” he said pulling her to him, “You’re super smart, and you’ve got a big heart Y/n, we both know you can do this” Slash said as he looked into Y/n’s eyes, “I love you” she said kissing him.

“I love you more”

****

“Yea, thanks” he mumbled, taking it from her. Y/n shook her thoughts away “Do you need help?” she asked as the man shook his head, not looking at her. “Okay, i’ll be back in 2 minutes to start you on and IV.” she said as she watched him nod his head.

Walking out the room, Y/n let a deep breath out. Fucken Slash, she thought looking down at her watch. She hoped he wouldn’t recognize her, but at the same time she did.

****

1988, January

“What do you mean you can’t trust me?” Slash yelled through Y/n’s apartment “You think what? i’m gonna go out fucking other girls?” He said looking Y/n dead in the eye “Jesus fucken christ Slash! It’s not that!” She raised her voice, “I don’t fucken trust the fact that you’re gonna be sober!” She yelled back to him.

“Are we really back on that topic” He rolled his eyes “Yes! Yes we are because i don’t wanna get a fucken call telling me you’re dead!” She yelled

“Gosh you’re such a fucken nag Y/n! Always up my ass about that shit!” He said getting angrier, “How can I not Slash? You’ve overdosed countless fucken times! And i get you’re sober now, but what about when you’re on the road huh? You think you’ll be able to resist being around all of that shit?” She yelled back

“Just stop!” He yelled, loudly “Do you know how many girls i could have replace you?” he said, pointing at her “All those girls that won’t be such a fucken nag about everything!”

Y/n stood there silently, “Thats how you feel?” She said in a quiet, but angry tone. “Every time you’re up my ass yes, that’s exactly how i feel” He said crossing his arms

“Fine then. Go” she said getting angrier, “Go?” he scoffed, “Yes! Go! get the fuck out of here! Go out and get all those fucken girls” she raised her voice, sighing she mutedly said, “Cause at the end of the day Slash, they don’t give one tiny fucken fuck about you, but that’s what you want right? So get the fuck out of my apartment”

*****

Sighing, Y/n checked her watch to find the two minutes up, knocking, she entered the room.

“Hudson?” she said as she walked in to find the man sitting on the edge of the hospital bed.

“Can you lay back for me” she said to the man as she grabbed the IV and needle, “I’m going to put in your IV now, is that okay?” she said looking at Slash who nodded his head, laying down and only looking at the wall in front of him

“Okay” she sighed, trying to ignore the tension in the room, grabbing his arms, she could clearly see the small track marks on his arm.

Keeping professional, she ignored it and put in the IV.

“Okay, all done” she said as Slash looked down at his arm and back up at her, she gave him a small smile “It’s going to help with your withdraws, i’ll be back to check on you, alright?” she said looking at him.

About to leave, Slash called out, “Y/n”, she turned around to look at him “Yes?” she said politely, heart racing.

“Y/n im sorry” he said looking at her, voice shaky “Please” he whimpered out

“Slash” she said slowly walking up to him, he grabbed her hand and put it to his face, “Please” was all he said.

“It’s okay, Slash it’s okay.” She said trying to keep her composer

“Please don’t leave me” he said, clutching her hand.

“Okay okay I won’t, i’ll stay” She said, using her other hand to touch his face, “I’ll stay okay?” she sent him a solace smile.

That night, and all the other nights Slash was in the hospital, Y/n was there, whispering sweet words to Slash, running her hand through his hair and coming across all the other members, giving them a small hello.

And then he left.

————

I’ve had so much writers block it’s crazy omg 😭

I kinda gave up on this towards the end sorry guys, but I hoped you enjoyed!! I’m trying to get back on the writing grind fr 😢

[lightofraye]

Jensen is a highly blessed person, he is privileged in every sense of the word.

He gets to do what he loves for a living, aka acting, singing, golfing... etc.

He gets to share his art, his music.

He has a family, and many friends, he's not alone by any means.

He's talented and charismatic and beautiful, and yet he's humble, with both feet on earth, he's the nicest person, respectful and polite, a great conversationalist, and he always helps in whichever way he can.

He's sweet and sensitive, he genuinely cares for other people, he's super loyal and he values his relationships the most.

He loves his wife depply, he'd do anything for her, and his kids, they are the reason of his existance.

He's a good guy and he's full of love, and if you think he can only be happy when he's with Jared, then you're a frigging idiot.

Hi anon!

So! Congrats on finding out that my anon asks was back on!

Also, wow. Copy-paste much? This has been circulating for a while! I mean I believe @hologramcowboy got one of these and @walker-girl the other!

But! Y'know what? I'm in a mood. Congrats, you're going to get a bit of an education.

Shall we?

Jensen is a highly blessed person, he is privileged in every sense of the word.

Uh... I guess? I dunno about blessed, per se. His looks--something he was born with--got him a foot in and his acting got him to where he is today. In America, sure, he's rather privileged--white, straight, male, Christian.

He gets to do what he loves for a living, aka acting, singing, golfing... etc.

Sure, sure....

He gets to share his art, his music.

Uh huh. I'm waiting for you to get to the punchline here.

He has a family, and many friends, he's not alone by any means.

Oooh. So close. He has a lot of "yes men" and sycophants, but I dunno if I'd say he has many friends. Not real friends, anyway. Too many would like to use his fame and his name to further their advances, so we can't say it's real.

He's talented and charismatic and beautiful, and yet he's humble, with both feet on earth, he's the nicest person, respectful and polite, a great conversationalist, and he always helps in whichever way he can.

... are you about to nominate him for sainthood? Because it sounds like you want to nominate him.

He's sweet and sensitive, he genuinely cares for other people, he's super loyal and he values his relationships the most.

Uh. Are you sure? I mean, he backstabbed Jared, betrayed him, in regards to The Winchesters. Even Eric Kripke was surprised because he thought for sure Jensen would do that.

And that steadfast loyalty is not always a good thing, especially when some of those people he calls "friend" have hurt other people... (Michael Weatherly comes to mind.)

He loves his wife depply (sic), he'd do anything for her, and his kids, they are the reason of his existance (sic).

I added (sic) to inform you that it was spelled incorrectly. I'm nice like that.

And no, anon, he does not love his wife. Nor does she love him. Just pay attention to his stories. Trust me. There's no real love, no affection, when he tells stories about her.

He's a good guy and he's full of love, and if you think he can only be happy when he's with Jared, then you're a frigging idiot.

He's a decent fellow. I dunno about "full of love"... no one is capable of that. We all have our limits.

And, um... ah, poor anon, you really thought you had something here.

Jared is likely one of few people who was real with him, and Jensen to him. Certainly Jensen has said he couldn't be himself with Danneel.

I pay attention to Jensen at conventions. This most recent one, at Seattle, he was relax, smiling genuinely, and just overall seemed like he was lighting up.

It's a damned shame you can't see it because of your hate for Jared.

But y'know. Nice try.

Thanks for visiting!